Chapter 3: The School’s Movements
──September 4th, Takayanagi’s Perspective──
From a distance, I watch Aono slip away, a wave of relief washing over me. At least he’s safe—for now.
That kid’s too reckless for his own good.
I’d enlisted the vice-principal and Mitsui-sensei, the school nurse, to track him down, and knowing he’s alright eases the knot in my chest. I’d been bracing for the worst, my mind conjuring grim possibilities.
I’m Takayanagi, Class 2-B’s homeroom teacher, teaching world history. Ten years into this job, I’ve seen my share of storms, but today—my first lesson of the second term after chaperoning club activities over summer break—has thrown me into the deep end. A heavy sigh escapes me, stifled so the students won’t notice.
※
The first homeroom of the second term kicks off, and I’m ready to ease into it with some light chatter, as always. But as my eyes sweep the classroom, I notice Aono’s absence. Just one student missing—could be a regular absence, maybe even skipping, not uncommon after summer break. I shrug it off at first, but when my gaze lingers on his desk, faint scratches catch my eye. Graffiti.
Feigning a routine attendance check, I step closer. The word “Die” is scrawled faintly across the surface. The realization hits like a cold slap—this isn’t just mischief. It’s trouble, possibly bullying.
“Does anyone know anything about Aono?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.
Aida pipes up. “He wasn’t feeling well, so he went to the infirmary.”
A school assembly’s scheduled right after this, and the timing couldn’t be worse. I need to handle this fast, but I’m stuck. “Alright, I’ll check on him. You guys head to the gym and line up.”
My reputation as the laid-back, slightly gloomy teacher works in my favor here—no one bats an eye at my casual demeanor. As the students file out, I steal a glance at Amada, Aono’s supposed girlfriend. Her face is taut, her eyes flickering with something—worry, guilt, or something else entirely?
In the hallway outside the infirmary, I meet Mitsui-sensei. Aono’s there, but something’s off. When I press him, he mumbles, “I’m not feeling well, so please let me rest.”
“Leave this to me,” Mitsui-sensei says, her voice steady. I nod, grateful, and hurry to the staff room to brief the vice-principal.
His white hair sways as he processes the news, visibly rattled. “The principal’s tied up with the assembly—terrible timing. Let’s hold a strategy meeting after school. Takayanagi-sensei, gather detailed information from the students. In this day and age, trouble can spiral online, especially over summer break. Anything could’ve happened.”
Despite his frail appearance, his plan is solid, and I feel a flicker of reassurance.
※
With administrative tasks like class committee appointments and event committees finally sorted, I can focus on the real issue. I shift my tone, letting a heavier edge creep in, and the classroom’s atmosphere tightens.
“You guys know what vandalism is, right?”
The word “vandalism” lands like a stone, rippling unease through the room.
“If I’ve said this much, you smart kids should get it. It’s about Aono’s desk.”
The air grows thick, the students’ faces a mix of shock and dread. How much does he know? Everything…? I can almost hear their thoughts racing.
“I don’t know who did it yet,” I continue, my voice steady but firm. “But the faint writing and Aono’s behavior make it clear something happened. Listen up: a desk with graffiti is school property. This is a public school, funded by your parents’ taxes. Damaging it is a crime. You learned this in middle school, right? It’s a criminal offense.”
I glance at Amada. Her face is ghostly pale, her hands trembling as she dabs sweat with a handkerchief.
“The culprit might claim, ‘It was just a prank,’ or ‘Aono deserved it.’ But no one has the right to scrawl slander on someone’s desk. It’s no different from sending death threats to a celebrity or YouTuber online and getting arrested. Those excuses don’t hold up, do they?”
Silence grips the room, heavy and suffocating. I can’t let up now—if I do, this could scar the students’ futures.
“Don’t let the word ‘bullying’ fool you,” I press on. “This isn’t some childish prank or harmless mischief. It’s a crime. I want you to remember that.”
──School Meeting Room──
The strategy meeting for Aono’s case came together quickly, pulling me, Ayase-sensei, the grade-level head Iwai-sensei, and Mitsui-sensei into the meeting room. The principal and vice-principal would join soon, but for now, the core group was set. Ayase-sensei looked pale, her hands trembling faintly—she’s clearly drowning in guilt for missing the signs of bullying that’s now spiraled. It’s hard to watch.
“Sorry, I’m a bit late.”
The principal’s heavy frame lumbered in, settling into a chair. Next to the wiry vice-principal, his bulk—rumored to come from his days as a star rugby player—stood out starkly. The vice-principal had already filled in Iwai-sensei and the principal, so we were all on the same page.
The principal spoke the moment he sat, still catching his breath. “First, Takayanagi-sensei, thank you for alerting us immediately. Issues like this can snowball if we hesitate. Sharing bad news promptly is critical.”
He bowed slightly, his sincerity clear, but I shook my head. “No, this might tie back to my classroom management failures.”
I have to own this. Maybe I could’ve built a space where Aono felt safe opening up. Maybe I should’ve anticipated trouble brewing over summer break and offered better support. There’s plenty to chew on.
“As teachers, we all have room to grow,” Iwai-sensei cut in, his voice calm but firm. “But Takayangi-sensei did what most wouldn’t—shared the issue fast. Plenty of teachers would’ve tried to handle it alone or swept it under the rug to save face.”
His defense eases the weight on my shoulders, and I’m grateful. Ayase-sensei, though, stays blank-faced, lost in her thoughts. She’s green, probably didn’t notice anything amiss, and now guilt’s eating her alive. I’ll need to talk to her later.
“Iwai-sensei’s right,” the principal added, steering us forward. “Let’s focus on now and what’s next. Any updates on Aono-kun’s condition after he left early? Did he get home safely?”
He looked to me, but Mitsui-sensei stepped in. “Takayanagi-sensei was tied up gathering student intel, so I called his parents.”
Her initiative was a lifeline, freeing me to dig into what the students knew. The principal leaned in. “And?”
“In cases like this, students often hide bullying from their parents,” Mitsui-sensei explained. “So I asked if Aono-kun was okay after leaving early, citing he felt unwell. His mother confirmed he’s home safe.”
The principal and vice-principal exhaled, tension visibly draining from their faces. Still, we can’t let our guard down—worst-case scenarios loom.
“That’s a relief,” the principal said. “Now, the vice-principal and I outlined a plan. First, Aono-kun is our priority. Even if we resolve this, it’s pointless if he stops coming to school or worse, drops out. We need to support him fully.”
──Soccer Club Room, Kondou’s Perspective──
After school, I’m in the club room, gearing up for practice when a junior—some kid who’d been spreading rumors about Miyuki’s bruise online—bursts in, panicking. “Kondou-senpai, it’s bad! Our homeroom teacher…”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, already half-dismissing him.
He and another junior spill everything—how they scrawled insults on Aono’s desk to “teach that DV jerk a lesson.” They’re freaking out because Takayanagi, the world history teacher, is sniffing around.
Huh, that was quick. That gloomy teacher’s sharper than I thought. I figured he’d bury it. Whatever. If this blows up, my old man’s got enough pull to smooth it over. These juniors, though? They’re just pawns.
“Hmph,” I grunt, keeping my tone icy.
“Don’t be like that!” one of them pleads. “We did this for you, senpai… If this gets out, we could get suspended or expelled for vandalism!”
They’re practically begging, but I’m done babysitting. Pawns don’t get coddled—they get sacrificed. “Let me ask you,” I say, voice sharper, “when did I ever tell you to do this? To spread Aono’s DV rumors or trash school property?”
“Wha—?!” They freeze, stunned.
They’re too dense to see they’re just pieces on my board. Sacrifice a pawn to save the king—it’s basic strategy. “All I did was share a concern, as a friend, about a junior girl’s problem. You two turned it into a circus, plastered it online, and defaced a desk. And now you’re pointing at me? You serious?”
They cling to me like lost dogs, betrayed by the senpai they trusted. “No way! We…”
“Deny it with everything you’ve got,” I cut in, smirking inwardly. “They’ve got no hard proof. If you crack, you’re done.”
Two new pawns, locked in. They don’t even see the board tilting against them.
