Faced with Tsukishiro's relentless arguments, Mashima felt immense pressure. His heart pounded so hard it nearly stopped, and he could hardly breathe. It was like being a regular student arguing back at the head of student discipline. When was the last time he'd felt this? How many people could hold out this long under such strain?
But he wasn't alone. Sakagami stepped forward too, standing beside Mashima—and more importantly, beside the students.
"Director Tsukishiro, isn't that a bit of a stretch?" he said diplomatically. "I'm not questioning your intentions. Yes, a sense of urgency can push students to do better. But urgency and crisis—don't we need to consider the line between the two carefully?"
"If mishandled, urgency can become a real crisis. The very students we're proud of could collapse under it. Wouldn't that be more troublesome?"
Tsukishiro's eyes lit up. He found Sakagami more interesting than Mashima—at least this one knew how to read the room and advocate for his interests.
"Exactly. Which is why you can all rest assured. My plan is as follows…"
After explaining, he finished with a smug smile. "Well? Isn't it perfectly balanced?"
The mood in the room darkened again. The homeroom teachers' faces turned grim. As expected, it was a special exam that would require someone to be expelled.
This was absurd. In his head, Sakagami was already cursing up a storm. Balanced? My ass!
"I'm afraid I can't agree," Mashima said, shaking his head. "Whether we're talking about pressure or motivation, there needs to be a clear direction forward for the students."
"Take midterms or finals for example—even if you said failing a subject means expulsion, at least students can strive to pass and avoid punishment."
"But this exam you've proposed forces someone to be expelled no matter what. There's no direction, no path forward. I can't accept it."
Mashima's righteous objections had no effect on Tsukishiro. Yes, the plan was unreasonable—so what?
He was only a temporary substitute anyway. It wasn't like he'd be in the chairman's seat forever, unlike Sakayanagi's father. Why bother doing things properly?
"Hehe… Perhaps, Mashima-sensei, your thinking is outdated. Have you ever considered that the AN High School's long-standing educational policy might have flaws?"
"Don't tell me you're unaware of how competitive society has become. Even a regular job posting might get a few applicants. For a decent position, it could be hundreds. A top-tier job? Thousands."
"And in the end, only one person gets the position. Everyone else is eliminated. Compared to that, this special exam I designed is actually merciful."
"And, on top of that, it teaches students to recognize how brutal the world can be."
It was sophistry. How could job hunting and student expulsions be equated?
But due to his position, no one could call it out for what it was.
Mashima could only fight back with what little rhetorical power he had left. "It's not the same at all, Director Tsukishiro."
But Tsukishiro was done arguing with idealists.
"That's enough. My decision is final, Mashima-sensei."
Mashima clenched his fists tight—but he couldn't throw a punch. As an educator who always led by example, he couldn't let himself lash out.
Sakagami looked equally pissed, silently swearing at Tsukishiro's entire family.
Hoshinomiya wore her usual radiant smile, but her brows stayed furrowed. Chabashira remained cold and quiet—but even she was singled out next.
"Oh, right," Tsukishiro said casually. "About Sudo, the only first-year who applied for withdrawal—I looked into the reason and even pulled some surveillance footage. Chabashira-sensei, those two involved should leave too, don't you think?"
Chabashira's face darkened immediately.
And the other first-year teachers realized something chilling: once Tsukishiro made a decision, no amount of protest mattered. The chairman's authority was absolute.
Even as a mere Acting Director, Tsukishiro had full power. And they had no way to stop him.
They were only now realizing it: no matter how hard they argued, no matter how they resisted—they couldn't do a thing.
Powerless. That was the one word all four of them felt.
Knock knock.
With no secretary yet, a voice followed the knock. "Pardon the intrusion."
Tsukishiro called the person in. Mashima and the others looked over to see eight more teachers entering the room—all homeroom teachers from the upper grades.
Damn it. The first-year teachers cast aside their despair as a new anger flared. Was Tsukishiro planning to conduct forced expulsions in the upper grades too?
But then, to everyone's surprise—
"Now that all homeroom teachers are here," Tsukishiro said, "I have another announcement."
"I believe it's time we held a school cultural festival."
The cultural festival—or gakuensai—was a Japanese tradition. Most schools held one every year, opening the campus to outsiders, with class booths and club showcases.
It was routine—unless you were AN High.
One of the senior teachers blurted out reflexively, "But Director, this school has always been closed to the public. We can't open it."
Tsukishiro chuckled, wagging a finger.
"Once again, your thinking is outdated. This school was founded just under ten years ago—with massive support from higher-ups. The whole point was to try new forms of education."
"Precisely because of that, I think it's time to explore something new."
Another upper-grade teacher objected, "But the rules over the years—"
Tsukishiro didn't even let him finish.
"You hear fresh idea and respond with past rules? Some tradition is fine, but not everything should be preserved."
"Of course, for safety reasons, the public visitors will be strictly screened. We won't be letting in just anyone—please rest assured."
With things laid out so firmly, no one could resist. Tsukishiro clearly had no intention of backing down.
If Ayanokouji Atsuomi were here, he'd be furious.
This meant Tsukishiro wasn't planning to quickly extract Kiyotaka—it ran completely counter to Atsuomi's plans.
But Atsuomi wouldn't learn any of this.
And as Tsukishiro thought of that, his usual crescent-moon eyes curled into an even narrower sliver—his smile nearly closing them altogether.
...
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