Chapter 5: A Reliable Adult

──September 5th──

The morning of reckoning had come.

I’d promised Satoshi I’d go to school today, but dread gnawed at me. The thought of facing yesterday’s venom again twisted my insides. It felt like the internet’s wrath had spilled into reality, with even strangers turning their hostility on me.

I choked down breakfast—toast and consommé soup—though my stomach churned with stress, leaving me nauseous and in the worst shape.

“I’m heading out,” I called to Mom and Nii-san, busy in the kitchen, before stepping outside. The sun’s rays beat down, weighing on my already heavy body.

A girl in a school uniform stood waiting in front of the house. My heart sank—Miyuki? Cold sweat prickled my back at the thought. But as she turned, her presence radiated a gentle grace, like an angel’s.

It wasn’t Miyuki. It was an irreplaceable friend.

“Ah, Senpai! Good morning!” Ichijou Ai’s voice rang out, bright and warm. The surreal moment overwhelmed me, and I instinctively retreated, shutting the door.

“Huh?! Why are you closing the door? I woke up early to walk to school with you!” Her flustered protests only deepened the dreamlike haze.

“Oh, is that Ai-chan’s voice? You came to pick him up! Hurry up, Eiji, it’s rude to keep a girl waiting!” Mom’s excited voice cut through as she bustled out to greet Ichijou-san.

“Morning, Ai-chan. You came all this way? Thanks for looking out for my silly son. Oh, by the way, do you like kaki fry? We’re starting kaki fry today, so come by tonight if you can. Our tartar sauce-heavy kaki fry is a super popular seasonal special. For you, it’s always on the house!” Mom’s auntie-mode chatter erupted, unstoppable.

“Ah, Senpai’s mom! Good morning. I love kaki fry, but I feel bad eating for free so often. I’ll pay properly next time,” Ichijou-san replied, her tone polite yet firm.

“Oh, you’re such a responsible girl. Don’t worry about it. We do takeout too, so just let us know.”

“Yes, thank you! I’m looking forward to the kaki fry!”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a natural rhythm between them. Neither forced it, and their ease was almost enviable. Urged along, I was half-pushed out the door.

“Alright, you two, off you go!”

※

We walked the familiar path to school, other students gradually appearing around us. Honestly, Ichijou-san’s presence dulled my fear significantly. Our compatibility made chatting effortless, and even in my rattled state, I found myself laughing. She really did love kaki fry, it seemed.

“But, are you sure?” I asked, hesitation creeping in. “If people see you with me, Ichijou-san, you might get targeted too…”

She brushed it off with a carefree laugh. “No way that’d happen. I know it’s weird to say myself, but I’m pretty popular, you know. With both guys and girls.”

It was true. I’d never heard a bad word about her. She rejected confessions with ruthless clarity, but her sincerity left no room for grudges. Popular with guys, her kind and caring nature made her a rare figure adored by girls too.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” I admitted.

“Senpai, use whatever resources you’ve got. Walking with me is pretty safe. At the very least, the chances of someone throwing insults to your face should drop significantly.”

She was right. As we passed other students, those who noticed us froze, too shocked to jeer. Their gasps carried over instead.

“Why’s Ichijou-san, who hates guys, walking with a dude?!”

“Oi, isn’t that the rumored ‘Aono’? Did he, like, force her…?”

“Nah, no way. Look, Ichijou-san’s having so much fun.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her look that happy.”

That was the chatter trailing us.

“If things go well, those slanderous rumors might get drowned out by today’s gossip,” Ichijou-san said, her grin mischievous. “Third parties are so reckless with their curiosity. Besides, girls love a good romance rumor.”

“But I don’t want your reputation to suffer because of this,” I pressed.

“Senpai, you’re too kind. You’re overthinking it. A reputation that crumbles just from walking to school with a friend isn’t worth having. People who sling malice at you without knowing your character? I’d rather have nothing to do with them.”

We’d only known each other a day.

“That’s amazing…”

Having such an incredible friend stirred a warmth in me, threatening to spill over as tears of gratitude.

“It’s too early to cry,” she teased. “Save the tears for when this is all over, and we can cry together.”

Satoshi had given me the resolve to face school. Ichijou-san gave me the strength to fight alongside someone. I’d been on the brink of losing faith in people, but now, I felt I could still trust them. One step at a time, we moved forward.

※

As expected, we drew countless stares at school. With the gates just ahead, our unlikely duo became the center of attention.

On one side, Ichijou Ai, a peerless beauty and school-renowned talent. On the other, Aono Eiji, the supposed scumbag who’d abused his childhood friend girlfriend.

The crowd’s gazes dripped with disdain, but Ichijou’s presence overwhelmed them. They held their tongues, wary of badmouthing me within earshot of the school idol. A careless word could cost them their social standing—self-preservation at its finest.

Above all, Ichijou-san looked genuinely happy. She walked with me by choice, her lively chatter and radiant smile undeniable. That smile could steal any guy’s heart, and no one dared disrupt her joy.

“Aww, we’re almost at school,” she said, her tone tinged with playful regret. “Senpai, you’ll walk home with me today too, right?”

It was her kindness—a shield against harassment. Her deliberate “today too” hinted we’d walked home together yesterday, weaving a subtle narrative for the onlookers.

“Is that okay?” I asked, unsure.

“What are you talking about? I’m the one asking you.”

She raised her voice just enough for others to hear, her playful tone irresistible. No guy could refuse her like that—not when countless others had been turned down for far less.

“Please, then.”

“Hehe, then treat me to some kaki fry! Just kidding!”

We parted at the shoe lockers, promising to meet again after school.

※

From here, it’s a battle I face alone. Steeling myself, I headed to the shoe lockers, bracing for the worst. My indoor shoes might be gone again, stuffed with thumbtacks or trash.

But my locker stood untouched, pristine as it was yesterday. No signs of tampering. Glancing around, I spotted Iwai-sensei, the grade head, lingering near the entrance, his presence oddly deliberate.

“So that’s it,” I murmured.

He must have been keeping watch since early morning to deter anyone from messing with my things. No one would dare try something under the grade head’s nose.

“Yo, Aono. Morning. You heard from Imai, right?”

“Yes, I have.”

Iwai-sensei’s hearty laugh echoed. “Good, good.”

“Then go meet Takayanagi-sensei in the staff room first. He’s been worried about you since yesterday.”

I’d expected a scolding for skipping school, but there was no trace of reprimand in his tone.

“Yes, sir.”

Our exchange was brief, but his satisfied smile spoke volumes.

※

I made my way to the first-floor staff room, my steps heavy with reluctance. Under these circumstances, entering that room felt like walking into a spotlight. I’d stand out, and some teachers, swayed by rumors, might cast cold glances my way.

“Morning, Aono.”

To my surprise, Takayanagi-sensei, my homeroom teacher, was waiting in the hallway outside the staff room.

“Good morning. Why are you out here?”

“Ah, well, given the situation, I figured you’d feel uneasy coming into the staff room alone, so I waited here.”

His slow, familiar drawl carried a quiet consideration that eased my nerves. I was grateful.

“Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do. No need to thank me. For now, let’s hear what’s going on. The hallway or staff room isn’t ideal, so let’s use the meeting room over there.”

I’d assumed they’d use the guidance office for something like this. The thought must have flickered across my face, because he addressed it.

“Would you prefer the guidance office? That place has a vibe that puts teachers above students. This time, I want to talk to you on equal footing, so I’d rather not use it.”

I shook my head quickly. The guidance office’s heavy atmosphere was the last thing I needed.

“Thought so.”

We stepped into the meeting room, and he gestured to a chair. “Aono, sit next to me. It’s easier to talk side by side, right?”

His wry smile was disarming, clearly meant to put me at ease.

“Before we talk, there’s something I need to say first.”

His tone shifted, serious now, as he straightened in his seat. My nerves spiked, bracing for what was coming.

“Aono, I’m truly sorry. I failed to notice something was wrong with you yesterday and let you go through something painful. If I’d created an environment before summer break where you could’ve confided in me, maybe I could’ve eased your suffering. I bear some responsibility for this. I’m really sorry.”

He bowed deeply, holding the gesture for over a minute. Guilt gnawed at me—I didn’t deserve this.

“Sensei, please lift your head. I didn’t reach out either. The fact that you noticed the problem this quickly is already amazing…”

My hurried words prompted him to raise his head, his eyes sincere as he murmured, “Thank you.”

“Aono, I have a rough idea of what happened. I heard bits and pieces from Imai yesterday. So, when you’re ready, even if it’s little by little, could you tell me about it?”

Normally, I’d recoil at the thought of a teacher prying into my love life. My childhood friend, someone I trusted, branded me a “stalker DV guy” and dumped me. The shame of being ostracized by classmates and club members, the harassment—it made me feel pathetic. But maybe, just maybe, I could tell Sensei.

If I could summon a sliver of courage… My fear was that confiding would force him to act, and those harassing me might resent me for “snitching,” making things worse.

He must have sensed my turmoil. “Sorry, Aono. I’m rushing you, aren’t I? You don’t have to force yourself to talk today. You need time to process things.”

“…Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Thirsty? It’s technically against the rules, but today’s special. I’ll treat you to a canned drink. Want anything?”

His kind tone was a lifeline, pulling me from the edge.

“Then, a cola.”

“Got it. Wait here.”

“But, Sensei, what about first period? Isn’t it almost time?”

“Good point. We adults have it covered. The vice-principal’s taking over my world history class for first period. He used to teach social studies, you know. Right now, the school’s top priority is supporting you, since you’re the one suffering the most.”

The teachers were going out of their way for me—Iwai-sensei’s vigilance, now this. Gratitude mixed with shame; I felt pathetic for struggling to speak.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“Hey, I haven’t even bought the cola yet. Save the thanks for then.” His lighthearted jab, so familiar, sparked a flicker of warmth.

※

“Here, drink up.”

Takayanagi-sensei returned, handing me a cold cola fresh from the vending machine. He held another for himself, two red cans glinting in his hands.

“Thank you.”

“It’s so hot, I’m breaking my low-carb diet to have one too,” he chuckled, cracking open his can with a grin more like an older cousin’s than a teacher’s.

“Sensei, why do you believe me? No one else even listens to my side.”

“Good question. Two reasons.”

“Two?”

“Yeah. First, most students right now are caught up in irresponsible rumors, like a collective panic. As adults, we’re a bit more objective. You know how internet pile-ons work, right? The target’s always the ultimate villain, no matter their circumstances. People convince themselves they’re on the side of justice and spew awful things.”

“Yes.” It was my reality, laid bare.

“But often, the source of that fire isn’t clear. Jumping on rumors and hurting someone carelessly can cost you everything. The people harassing you are doing just that.”

“…But what if I’m the guy the rumors say I am?”

“That’s not impossible. That’s where the second reason comes in. No matter what trouble you’re in, you don’t strike me as someone who’d resort to violence. When something bad happens, you seem like the type to blame yourself, not others. At the very least, you don’t seem like someone who deserves this kind of vicious harassment. In harsh terms, it’s a teacher’s intuition.”

He took a swig of cola, sidestepping the weight of his words. I knew Takayanagi-sensei was sharp. Calling it “intuition” felt like a gentle choice, tailored for me. A typical teacher might say, “I trust you,” but that could feel like pressure to spill everything. His vague phrasing showed trust without demanding more than I could give.

If he was going this far, I couldn’t hold back. My resolve hardened.

I met his gaze, steady and determined. Sensing my shift, he nodded softly.

“Takayanagi-sensei, there’s something I’d like you to hear.”

──Takayanagi’s Perspective──

Aono steeled himself and began to speak.

“Sensei, you know I was dating Miyuki… Amada Miyuki, right?”

“Yeah.”

As I’d suspected, it began with a romantic relationship. Most high school troubles boil down to love.

“So, on August 30th, my birthday, I was supposed to go out with Miyuki. But she suddenly canceled. Then, while I was walking in town, I saw her… with third-year Kondou-senpai, arm in arm, strolling through the shopping district…”

My heart sank. So Amada was cheating? Kondou, the soccer club’s ace, came from a prominent family—city councilors, I believe. Scouted by top universities, decent grades, but his reputation among teachers was poor. Too many romantic entanglements, always skirting the edges of trouble.

The problem was his cunning. Cheating, while morally wrong, isn’t legally punishable for unmarried couples. Unlike marital infidelity, which can lead to damages, a high school romance lacks legal weight. It’s unforgivable, but without clear violations like violence or theft, the school’s ability to discipline is limited.

I’d heard that last year, when Kondou’s homeroom teacher subtly cautioned him about his relationships, he snapped, “Do teachers have the right to meddle in students’ love lives?” He’d even intimidated the teacher. He’d left a trail of ruined relationships, untouchable by school rules. And now, it seemed, the issue had erupted.

“I approached them to confront them and grabbed Miyuki’s arm. I didn’t think I used much force, but she acted like it hurt… Then, Kondou-senpai, who was arm-in-arm with her, suddenly…”

Aono’s words came haltingly, each one laced with pain. For a high school boy, baring his heartbreak to a teacher must have been agony.

I nearly told him he didn’t have to push himself, but he met my gaze, resolute. “It’s okay.”

“He punched me in the face… called me a violent guy, a stalker…”

“What…?”

I was stunned. This wasn’t just cheating—it was violence.

“Then, Kondou asked Miyuki to choose between me and him. And… she…”

Aono’s gaze fell, his body trembling.

“She chose Kondou, didn’t she?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. Regret hit instantly—how could I add to his pain?

“Yes…”

Aono’s wordless cry of anguish blurred my vision. For a single teacher in his thirties, perhaps these thoughts were naive, but they overwhelmed me.

“That must’ve been tough, so painful, Aono. Thank you for telling me.”

Judging by his state, Aono likely hadn’t sought medical attention after the punch. He’d probably hidden it from his parents too. A doctor’s report could have justified immediate discipline for Kondou, but without evidence, that cunning soccer star would likely dodge accountability, claiming he was “protecting a girl from a violent stalker” or downplaying the incident. We’d need to gather information, find cracks in his story, and dismantle it.

“From here, it’s the adults’ job.”

Our priority was ensuring Aono’s school life moving forward was free from harm. Forcing him to endure classes amid hostility would scar him for life. The principal had insisted that victims of bullying shouldn’t suffer disadvantages like missing classes. Subject teachers were arranging makeup lessons and assignments to keep Aono on track, but prolonging this ordeal would only deepen his wounds.

“Sensei, I’m sorry. I’m causing so much trouble for everyone.”

Even in his pain, he was thinking of others.

“Trouble? No way, Aono. Listen, you might think this is just your problem, but it’s also my problem as a teacher and the school’s problem as a whole. When I or other teachers take action, it’s not a burden. Also, you’re too responsible and too kind.”

He looked puzzled.

“That’s a virtue, but because you’re so kind to others, the people around you want to be there for you when you need them.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Loving someone is, in a way, the purest feeling there is. When that’s trampled, even adults’ hearts get torn apart. For you teens in puberty, it’s even more so. So when it’s tough, rely on someone. It can be me, Mitsui-sensei, or any teacher worried about you. Friends like Imai, your parents, or your brother—anyone. When you’re hurting, prioritize yourself. Please.”

Embarrassed by my own earnestness, I steeled my resolve to pour everything into resolving this.

※

I ended up in the infirmary. Starting tomorrow, the teachers will arrange makeup lessons, but they couldn’t manage it for today. Honestly, I never expected the school to be this supportive—it feels like a dream. Still, spending all day in the infirmary is tough. It’s boring, and I feel guilty occupying a bed when I’m physically fine.

“Aono-kun, you’ve been through a lot. Are you feeling okay?” Mitsui-sensei’s gentle voice broke the silence as she checked on me.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good. But even if your body’s fine, you’ve been through something tough, so don’t push yourself. Your heart’s tired, you know.”

Kind words had been showered on me all day, each one a small anchor in the storm.

“It feels reassuring, like the teachers are really protecting me.”

“Really? But Takayanagi-sensei’s the one working the hardest, so remember that.”

“Yes.”

“Spending seven hours in the infirmary must be boring, right? Want me to grab some books from the library to pass the time? I got special permission.”

Doing nothing left me drowning in negative thoughts. Keeping busy was the only way to stay afloat.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, but don’t make a big deal of it. If it’s too obvious, I’ll get in trouble.”

Her mischievous smile, paired with the warmth in her eyes, coaxed a laugh from me despite the contrast with her usual professional demeanor.

“Of course.”

“Then it’s our little secret, just you and me.”

The infirmary, once sterile and daunting, began to feel like a haven.

※

Mitsui-sensei returned with a small stack of novels—mostly recent bestsellers. A literary novel that topped last year’s bookstore clerk contest, a masterpiece medical manga by a legendary artist, an interview collection with insights from top experts, and a few others.

She’d clearly chosen lighter, human-drama-focused books to lift my spirits despite my low mood. I read quickly, finishing the literary novel by noon. Books over a thousand yen were a luxury for a high schooler, so I was genuinely grateful to dive into something I’d wanted to read.

“Oh, you already finished? That was fast. Want to take a break? Shall I make some tea?” Mitsui-sensei, back from the staff room with documents, smiled at my progress.

“Is that okay?”

“It’s a special treat. Green tea okay? I don’t drink coffee, so we don’t have any.”

“Thank you.”

I glimpsed an unexpected side of the usually polished Mitsui-sensei.

The tea’s aroma was incredible. A glance at the tea bag box revealed high-end green tea. Relaxed by the scent, I found myself speaking up.

“Sensei, why did you decide to become a teacher?”

She laughed softly. “Hehe.”

“Honestly, getting a teaching license was like a safety net. I wanted a qualification in college. I didn’t have any strong ambitions, so I went to the local university’s education department and got certified.”

Her candor caught me off guard. Noticing my expression, she chuckled.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say this to a student, but since it’s just us, I’ll be honest.”

“So, you became a teacher right after graduating?”

“No, actually, I worked at a regular company and switched to teaching five years ago.”

“Wow, that’s surprising. I thought you’d always been a teacher.”

“Well, I vaguely thought about it in college, but I gave up on it once.”

A fleeting shadow of melancholy crossed her face. I hesitated, unsure if I should press further, and fell silent.

“It’s okay. It’s not that I can’t talk about it. In a way, I ran away. I enjoyed my teaching practicum, and everyone said I was suited for it, but I got scared.”

“Scared?”

Mitsui-sensei was popular among students, always fielding their concerns. The idea of her being afraid seemed unthinkable.

“Yeah, scared. A teacher’s words can change a child’s future so easily—it’s a huge responsibility. Realizing that terrified me.”

“Are you still scared?”

The question was rude, but it slipped out.

“Yeah, I am. Especially now, since you’re at such a critical time. But I felt like sharing a bit about myself. Will you listen?”

“Yes.”

She met my gaze, her eyes steady, and began.

“You see, I struggled with workplace relationships at my old job. My heart was in tatters. The company had a sports-club-like culture, and to put it delicately, it was a bit old-school…”

I nodded. I’d read about such places in novels—old-school companies with harassment issues, grueling environments. It felt uncomfortably close to my own situation.

“That culture pushed my mind and body to the limit. All I could do was keep pushing forward. But the harder I tried, the more my heart wore down, getting closer to breaking. I couldn’t confide in anyone and just kept getting cornered alone.”

That’s what would’ve happened to me. If Ichijou-san, Satoshi, or Takayanagi-sensei hadn’t stepped in, I’d still be dragging myself to class, enduring harassment, crumbling in silence.

“In the end, I collapsed from overwork and was rushed to the hospital. When I woke up, my mom was crying beside me, saying, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice at all.’ I was living alone then, only talking to her occasionally on the phone, so it’s not like she could’ve easily noticed anything wrong.”

Her story mirrored mine, the weight of it sinking in.

“When I said ‘I’m sorry’ to her, she got mad, asking why I didn’t tell her. She said she’d regret it forever if something happened to me. That it’s painful for a parent when their child doesn’t confide in them during tough times. She told me to burden her as much as I needed if it meant avoiding lifelong regret. And that’s how I got here.”

I pressed my eyes into the blanket, hiding my trembling. Mitsui-sensei, like a saint, kept murmuring, “It’s okay. We’re here for you.”

──Ichijou Ai’s Perspective──

After parting with Senpai, I headed to class. Since I’d slipped out and skipped school yesterday, my classmates’ gazes carried a hint of confusion. I’d told my homeroom teacher I wasn’t feeling well and left early, so it should be logged as an early dismissal.

“Ichijou-san, I heard you weren’t feeling well. Are you okay?” The class president’s concern was genuine, her braided glasses and honor-student aura oddly comforting.

“Yes. I rested yesterday and feel better. I guess the heat got to me a bit.”

I kept my tone light, as always.

“Good. It’s still hot out, so don’t overdo it.”

“Thanks for worrying.”

This was my mask in class—kind to all, but at a slight distance. It kept me from being isolated or misunderstood.

Being attractive in a closed space like school was a double-edged sword, inviting romantic troubles or jealousy. So I avoided making enemies while keeping others at arm’s length.

I was a troublesome girl, yearning to rely on someone yet unable to. That’s why I pushed myself too hard, like yesterday. I felt pathetic, torn by my own contradictions. Still, I had to play the “Ichijou Ai” everyone expected. No one saw the real me—not teachers, friends, or even the household staff.

Not even my parents.

That’s why Senpai, who I met just yesterday and became my best friend, was a singularity in my life. With him, I could bare my most embarrassing parts, the real me, even sides I hadn’t known existed.

“So this is how the real me smiles. I didn’t even know.”

Strangely, the pain faded when I walked with him. He probably thought I was shielding him from others’ malice. He was kind, and I was sly.

But it was Senpai protecting my heart. That’s why I wanted to spend every moment I could with someone so precious.

I bet this is how girls fall in love. I’m probably a bit unusual, though.

“Hey, Ichijou-san. Sorry, one more thing?” The class president’s voice pulled me back.

“What’s up?”

“Sorry, I saw something.”

“Saw what?”

I knew what she meant but asked to confirm. I’d braced for this kind of talk.

“This morning, you were walking to school with that senior who’s been in the rumors.”

As expected.

“Oh, you mean Aono-senpai?”

I said his name loudly, deliberately, for all to hear. The class buzzed instantly.

“Why’s Ichijou-san…?”

“Aono’s that senior who caused the violence thing, right?”

“No way. It’s gotta be a mistake.”

The class president nodded, guilt flickering in her eyes. She’d meant to ask discreetly to protect my standing, but now it had blown up.

“Yup, I went to Senpai’s house, and we walked to school together,” I declared boldly, letting the ripple spread. It would serve as a deterrent.

“From his house?! Are you that close with him?”

“Yup. Close enough that his mom invites me over for dinner.”

My first-ever romantic rumor sent the class into a frenzy, especially since I’d never been linked with a guy before. Claiming it was practically parent-approved was my possessiveness slipping out—not a lie, though.

“Ichijou-san, do you know the rumors about Aono-senpai?! I mean, I haven’t heard anything good about him!” Maehira-kun from the soccer club butted in, his trendy flair making him unable to resist.

“Yup, I know.”

I kept my tone casual.

“Then why…? Someone like that isn’t worthy of you…”

Normally, I’d let it slide, but I let a flicker of irritation show, fixing him with a sharp glare.

“Hey, Maehira-kun? Have you ever talked to Aono-senpai directly?”

“No, but…”

“Then, did you see the rumored incident yourself?”

“…No.”

I pressed him relentlessly. Sensing my anger, the gossiping classmates fell silent, the air turning heavy.

“Senpai’s not the kind of person the rumors make him out to be. As his best friend, I know that better than anyone. He’s my benefactor. So, please don’t say irresponsible things. I hate people who attack someone just because they’re labeled a bad guy without even knowing them.”

Pushing too hard could backfire. I meant to soften my tone, but my voice sharpened. I was projecting my past self onto Senpai.

“Yeah, sorry for saying stuff without knowing,” Maehira-kun apologized, surprisingly sincere. Knowing he wasn’t a bad guy at heart, I relaxed.

“No, I’m sorry for being a bit harsh.”

I flashed a polite smile to smooth things over.

“Sorry, it’s my fault for bringing it up,” the class president added, apologetic.

“It’s fine. It’s not like I’m hiding anything.”

A twinge of guilt hit me for pulling her into my scheme. Even if Senpai’s proven innocent, the slander’s shadow could linger. I didn’t want him haunted by bad rumors forever.

I wanted to overwrite the malicious gossip with positive whispers, even just a little. For Senpai, I’d do anything.

──Kondou’s Perspective──

Damn, what a drag.

A practice match loomed, forcing me into morning practice I usually skipped, and my mood was sour.

“Don’t fall for a weak feint like that, Mitsuta! And you, first-year fullback, you’re leaving too much space! You think we can win the practice match like this, you idiots?”

I vented my irritation on my teammates. Seriously, if we lose and it tarnishes my brilliant career, who’s taking responsibility? I’m the king of this team.

I’m exempt from defense—an unspoken rule with the coach and teammates. I just need to shine in attacks. If I lose the ball, I don’t chase it. Midfielders and defenders cover for me. Wasting energy on boring defense would dull my artistic attacks. Obviously.

I sent a perfectly timed pass into open space. My delicate touch was my greatest strength. The average players scrambled to defend, but it was futile. The gap in talent was too wide. Watching them flounder reminded me of Aono Eiji’s pathetic face.

Is that guy still coming to school? I can’t wait to see how long he holds out.

Yesterday, my lackeys trashed his desk. The rumor of him being violent has spread like wildfire. With his reputation in tatters, just existing must be torture. He’s on a fast track to dropping out.

And something even juicier happened.

Miyuki’s started escaping reality.

Last night, her parents were out, and she invited me over. We had some fun.

“Make me forget everything.”

“I know there’s no going back now.”

“You’re really the only one I have.”

I barely held back a laugh as we embraced. Yup, this girl’s done for. She’s sinking right alongside Aono.

“Yeah, I’ll be with you forever. We’re in this together.”

Her teary gratitude, her repeated “Thank you,” was almost too perfect. I slipped in some advice on handling teacher interviews to keep things under control.

Once Aono’s completely broken, I’ll dump Miyuki and move on. Her guilt over betraying her childhood friend is barely holding her together. The moment her pretty face twists in despair, her mind collapsing—that’s the ultimate thrill.

She’ll cling, saying:

“I chose you over my beloved childhood friend!”

“No, no, don’t leave me!”

“I’ll do anything!”

And I’ll hit back:

“Get a grip, you cheating slut.”

“You think I’d trust a girl like you?”

“I can’t deal with clingy girls.”

The moment they break down sobbing fuels my ego like nothing else.

I can’t wait for those two to crumble!

※

The tedious morning practice finally dragged to a close, and I changed in the clubroom.

Phew, finally over.

“Yo, Kondou-senpai, check this out. It’s going around,” second-year Aida said, shoving his phone in my face. It showed a class group chat.

“What’s that—?”

I froze. An unbelievable photo stared back at me: Aono, the guy I roughed up, walking to school and laughing with the school’s idol, Ichijou Ai.

Curious third-years peeked over and burst into laughter.

“That’s the first-year, Ichijou Ai, right? Why’s she with that violent guy? And looking so happy…”

“Right? Hilarious. They call Ichijou a perfect superhuman, but she’s got a flaw. Her taste in guys is trash,” Aida snorted.

“Yeah, Aono? Really? Her taste is awful.”

With that, the two sauntered off, still chuckling.

But I was trembling, humiliation burning through me. Ichijou Ai… Last term, when I asked her out, she shot me down with a cold stare, saying, “Sorry, I’m honestly scared to go out with a guy I don’t know.” So why’s she with that loser? After I stole his girl and turned the whole school against him… What’s going on?

Why do I have to endure this? I’m the king of this school. There’s no way I’m losing to some nobody.

Fine, I’ll make them understand—the difference in our class!

──Takayanagi’s Perspective──

With solid information from Aono, I had him stay in the infirmary to avoid overwhelming him. After everything he’s endured, expecting him to return to class immediately would be too much.

He agreed, so, as arranged with Mitsui-sensei, he’ll attend school from the infirmary for now. But if it impacts his studies, it’s counterproductive, so I’ve enlisted teachers with free periods to assist. We’re setting up makeup lessons in empty classrooms at a manageable pace, starting tomorrow since today wasn’t feasible. The principal and vice-principal have coordinated it all.

The principal, an English teacher, will handle that subject, and Iwai-sensei, the grade head, eagerly offered to help.

When I apologized to Aono for making him “hide away like this,” he replied, “No, it’s a thoughtful arrangement. I’m truly grateful,” which eased my guilt.

One issue, though: when I mentioned informing his parents, Aono firmly refused, saying, “That’s the one thing I absolutely don’t want.” He likely wants to spare his single mother, who raised him alone, and his young brother, who’s working hard to support the family business for his sake.

It was the strongest resistance he showed during our talk. For now, I backed off, but we can’t keep it from them forever. As teachers entrusted with their child, I want to share the information soon—it’s too late once something irreversible happens, and it already has, in a way.

But pushing risks further wounding Aono’s heart. Knowing he trusts us, I deeply respect his wish to shield his family.

“In the end, neither choice is fully right or fully wrong.”

For the first time since tackling this, I let out a weary sigh.

I consulted the principal earlier, and he said, “That’s a tough one. From our position, we’d want to contact them immediately. But I understand Aono-kun’s feelings. We’re amateurs when it comes to matters of the heart. My generation learned crude mental toughness theories, so I might unintentionally hurt him. Let me ask Mitsui-sensei, the expert, for help. We’re also arranging for a school counselor to visit soon.”

He’s right. Even with utmost care, navigating a teen’s emotional space during puberty is delicate. I’ll take his advice and consult Mitsui-sensei to help Aono move forward.

For now, I’ll focus on what I can do. First, I’ll meet with Aida and Shimokawa from the soccer club in my class, then Amada. Given her personality, it’s unlikely Amada directly harassed Aono, making those close to Kondou, the soccer club’s ace, the prime suspects. I’ll talk to them and, if nothing surfaces, check with students from Kondou’s middle school.

Yesterday, the class president mentioned, “When I got to class at 8, the desk was already vandalized.” If someone was there earlier, it’s likely a club member with morning practice, narrowing the suspects.

※

After meeting with Aida, I moved on to Shimokawa. Both were pulled from class.

“Sorry, Shimokawa, for calling you out suddenly,” I began in the guidance office, facing the brown-haired student.

“Why’d you call me?”

“Well, among the students I want to talk to today, your name came up first alphabetically. Yesterday, I spoke with kids not in clubs. Just a precaution. Bear with me; it’s my job.”

To ease his tension, I leaned into my usual laid-back act. His face softened slightly.

“It’s about Aono, right? Am I a suspect?”

He was chatty, which made this easier.

“No way. Yesterday, I checked with students who came early, and they said the desk was already vandalized when they arrived. So I need to talk to sports club members.”

I played the unmotivated teacher, keeping my tone casual.

“Man, tough job, huh? But it wasn’t me. Soccer club guys go straight to the clubroom, not the classroom.”

“That so?”

“Yup. So when we got to class in the morning, we were shocked to see it like that.”

“Got it. Then, did you see any classmates before morning practice?”

“Uh, no. Just Aida, I guess. He’s in the soccer club too.”

“Right.”

“If you’re gonna suspect us, show some proof, Takayanagi-sensei!”

“Yeah, Aida said the same. Got it. Head back to class.”

“Okaaay.”

He left with a lazy grin. I sighed, watching him go.

“Why do both of them have the exact same story? At least try to hide it a bit.”

Those two are definitely suspicious. They confirm if they’re suspects, claim they went straight to the clubroom for morning practice, say they only saw each other, and demand proof. It’s like they’re reciting a script, their answers eerily identical. Too suspicious. And, Aida and Shimokawa, you greeted Makabe from the basketball club, didn’t you? I know because I talked to Makabe yesterday.

For now, I’ll keep an eye on them to corner the mastermind pulling their strings.

※

Next meeting. The target student stepped into the guidance office: Amada Miyuki, Aono’s childhood friend, likely holding the key to everything except Kondou’s role.

An exemplary student and former vice-class president, she and Aono started dating last winter. She’s beautiful, popular with guys, and didn’t seem the type to cheat. But love is a drug, driving even the best to madness. Since ancient times, it’s led countless youths to ruin—a forbidden fruit. As a history teacher, I could recall plenty of love-fueled disasters: the Kusuko Incident, Yang Guifei, Henry VIII’s divorces. If mighty rulers fell to love, a teenage honor student was no match.

Maybe I’m still single because I lean on history trivia in moments like this. “Fools learn from experience, wise men from history,” but that’s a thought for another day.

“Sorry, Amada, for calling you in.”

“No, it’s about Eiji, right?”

“Yeah.”

Amada was steadier than I expected, but dark circles shadowed her eyes, her complexion pale.

“I had nothing to do with this!” Her tone edged toward hysteria as she protested.

“Hm?”

“You called me here because you suspect me, right?! Sure, Eiji and I had a messy breakup… and when I was talking to Kondou-senpai about it, Eiji saw us walking together and misunderstood.”

Her calm facade crumbled fast, words tumbling out unprompted, far from the composed vice-class president of last term.

“So, Aono grabbed your arm?”

“Yes. Eiji was upset and yanked my arm hard to pull me away from Senpai! We’d been discussing breaking up for a while… so…”

“That’s quite different from Aono’s story.”

“He’s… probably lying.”

I’d hear her out fully.

“Do you know anything about the SNS post claiming Aono assaulted you?”

A glint of suspicion flickered in her eyes—a rehearsed response.

“It’s probably because Kondou-senpai was worried about me and consulted someone, and it leaked. He’s not the type to spread rumors for fun. And it’s true that I got a slight bruise from being yanked hard.”

For a moment, she slipped back into her honor-student poise.

“One question, if I may?”

“Yes.”

She hesitated, clearly unprepared for a follow-up.

“I checked the SNS post for fact-checking. If Aono really assaulted you, the school would have to discipline him. So, let me confirm: did Aono, as the SNS post claims, use violence against you?”

This was a calculated move, appealing to her conscience by mentioning punishment. Given her agitation and the suspicious testimonies from Aida and Shimokawa, Aono was almost certainly the victim. This was a bluff. My trump card: I’d told Aono to save his SNS message logs with Amada, and they’re intact. I’d prefer to avoid prying into student privacy, but if Aono shares them, they’ll likely expose the liar. I’d seen him diligently screenshot the logs, so I already knew who was lying. No one would save damaging logs unless they were a saint.

Somewhere, Amada must feel guilt for cheating and framing Aono. That’s why I was shaking her.

“T-That’s…”

She looked down, her words faltering.

“It’s important.”

My gaze held hers, heavy with the weight of a young person’s future.

“I… don’t know. I was too shaken up.”

I see.

“Alright, let’s stop here for today. I might need to talk again, so if you remember anything, don’t hesitate to tell me. If there’s anything else you want to say, now’s the time.”

“…There’s nothing.”

After a pause, Amada chose to stray further from the truth.

“Got it. Thanks. Head back to class.”

Disappointment welled up. If she’d been honest, there might have been another path. But now, I’d investigate thoroughly, expose her contradictions, and close in on the mastermind. Amada would face consequences too. With Aono’s SNS logs and my other trump card, there’s no escape. But I still need the decisive blow to corner the mastermind. I’ll let her swim a bit longer.

Such a shame, Amada.

※

The final meeting. The mastermind, the root of all this, third-year Kondou, swaggered in.

“Yo!” His innocent smile in the guidance office was almost genius.

“Sorry for calling you in. You know what this is about?”

“Yup! You wanna talk about that Aono guy who hurt Miyuki, right? I’m good with that.”

His ease at pinning blame on Aono was a twisted talent.

“Yeah, Amada seems shaken and can’t clearly explain that day. So I wanted to hear from you, who was closest to the incident.”

“Right? Any normal girl would be like that after her boyfriend assaults her. That day, Miyuki was consulting me. She wanted to break up with her boyfriend, but he wouldn’t agree and was getting a bit stalkerish, which scared her.”

Without prior fact-checking, his confident tone might have swayed me.

“So, when we happened to be walking together, he saw us and assumed she was cheating. He came at us yelling, grabbed Miyuki’s arm hard. She was desperately resisting, saying it hurt. So I stepped in and separated them. I had to, or who knows what he’d do.”

He lied as naturally as breathing.

“Aono said you punched him.”

“That’s just a stalker’s delusion. He was gripping her arm so hard, I just acted to prevent injury. If anyone was violent first, it was him.”

This was just to hear his side. I gritted my teeth to endure it.

“Convinced?”

“One more thing. Why did you post about it on SNS?”

“Oh, you’d think that, right? But that wasn’t my account. I just asked club members for help to protect Miyuki from a stalker and sent them a photo of her injury. My bad. Someone probably got righteous and posted it from a throwaway account.”

He’d make a better con artist than a soccer player.

“So you don’t know who did it?”

“No clue. I’ve got a request, though. The soccer club has important matches coming up. Whoever spread it probably didn’t mean harm. Maybe. They did it for Miyuki. So if you find them, can you go easy on them?”

He was relentless about looking good—politician material.

“I can’t promise, but I’ll do what I can.”

To avoid being swayed by his probing, I stayed detached, focusing on gathering info.

“Thanks. I knew you’d get it, Takayanagi-sensei. I was worried you’d defend that stalker. He’s a disgrace to the school.”

The real disgrace is a guy like you being admitted here. I barely swallowed the retort.

Showing hostility now would make him obstruct the investigation with full force. For someone this vile, it’s best to let him realize he’s cornered just before he falls.

“One more thing. If Aono assaulted Amada, the school might have to discipline him. We might need to involve the police. So tell me clearly: you definitely saw it happen, right?”

If he had any decency, this might give him pause. But his answer was predictable.

“I definitely saw it. But I don’t think Miyuki wants him turned over to the police.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Why not?”

“The bigger this gets, the worse her reputation becomes, and she’d have to relive those scary memories over and over. That’s harsh, right? That’s why she was vague with you.”

It sounded reasonable, but when I mentioned the police, his face soured for a split second. Professional investigators would be trouble for him—digging deeper would uncover inconvenient truths.

I’d only vaguely said Amada was shaken, yet Kondou claimed she was “vague,” as if he knew her testimony. A small slip, practically admitting they’d coordinated their stories.

“I see,” I said, layering meaning into my tone.

“Alright, can I go? I got invited to join a university soccer team’s practice in Tokyo today. Gotta head out soon.”

“Yeah, sorry for keeping you.”

Kondou left with light steps. He’s sharp and smooth-talking—for a high schooler. For a moment, I pitied his oblivious march forward, but then my contempt flared.

I glared at the seat he’d vacated. “Keep marching—straight to the path that leads to hell.”

──Kondou’s Perspective──

“Pfft, too easy. That’s it? Man, teachers are such pushovers!!”

I couldn’t stop laughing.