The morning sun filtered through the stained windows of Class 3-B, catching the dust that floated in lazy spirals. The room buzzed with post-announcement chatter—everyone was curious about the new substitute teacher, but most were too busy scrolling or gossiping to take it seriously.
Reiji Kazama, however, sat hunched at his usual spot in the back row, near the window. His sketchpad sat open, half-filled with jagged, detailed lines forming the shape of a dragon mid-roar. The lead of his pencil was smudged—he'd been redrawing the same line for five minutes.
He told himself he was over it.
Told himself it didn't matter that the woman from yesterday—the one with the duck umbrella and soft hands—was now his teacher.
No big deal. Total coincidence. It'll pass.
But when the door slid open, and her voice filled the classroom, his pencil snapped in half.
> "Good morning, everyone. I'm Minazuki Asuka, and I'll be filling in as your homeroom teacher for the rest of the term."
Her.
Reiji's blood rushed to his face.
Asuka stood at the front with perfect composure, even as thirty high schoolers stared at her like she was an idol who took a wrong turn into the teacher's lounge. Her beige cardigan matched her gentle expression, and the faint cherry blossom clip in her hair shimmered under the morning light.
> "Let's work together for the next few weeks," she said, smiling. "I hope we can all get along."
A beat of stunned silence passed—then the classroom erupted.
"Whoaaaa!"
"She's so young!"
"Wait, she's totally pretty—like drama-teacher pretty."
Reiji sank deeper into his chair.
But it was too late.
Sakura Inoue, the class rep and known perfectionist, squinted at Reiji from the front row. Her pen froze mid-schedule.
> "Kazama-kun…?"
Then it happened.
Asuka's eyes scanned the room—each student received a polite nod. But when she reached the back row and locked eyes with him, something changed. Her smile softened—just a flicker—but Reiji saw it.
The room did too.
> "Huh?"
> "Yo, wait. Did she just smile at him differently?"
> "NO WAY."
> "Kazama's face is red!! Is he BLUSHING?!"
> "Mr. Tough Guy has a CRUSH!"
Reiji shot out of his seat like a lit firecracker.
"Shut up!!" he barked, face flaming.
Chairs scraped. The class gasped. Sakura stood so fast her notebook flew off the desk.
Asuka blinked, surprised, but didn't flinch.
Reiji pointed at her. "You didn't tell me you were—! This is messed up!"
Then he turned on his heel and stormed out the door, slamming it so hard the chalkboard shook.
---
Ten minutes later – Hallway
Sakura found him pacing by the stairwell, arms crossed, scowl deep.
> "Kazama-kun."
He glanced at her. "Buzz off, Class Rep."
"You just shouted at a teacher in front of the whole class."
"She's not just a teacher."
"…Excuse me?"
"I mean—!" Reiji raked his fingers through his hair. "She helped me yesterday. I didn't know she was gonna walk in and be… that."
Sakura narrowed her eyes. "You're a mess."
"Thanks."
"I didn't mean it as a compliment."
She crossed her arms, her dark bangs falling over sharp eyes.
> "You're always like this. First to fight, first to bolt. Do you even care about anyone other than yourself?"
Reiji looked at her. His eyes were tired. Older than seventeen.
"I do," he said. "I just don't show it the way people like you want."
Sakura blinked. Something about the way he said it—quiet, raw—unsettled her.
He walked away without another word.
---
Lunch Period – Rooftop
Wind howled above Mishiro High's rooftop. The city stretched beyond the gates, grey buildings softened by spring blossoms. Students weren't allowed up here, but Reiji always found a way.
He leaned against the railing, sandwich untouched in his bag, sketchbook open again.
The dragon was gone.
Instead, a figure of a woman holding an umbrella—cartoon ducks. A girl beside her. It was terrible. He couldn't even get her face right. He ripped the page out and crumpled it.
Click.
The door creaked open behind him.
He didn't turn around.
"You really like being up here," said a familiar voice.
Reiji sighed. "Shouldn't you be grading or something, Sensei?"
Asuka walked over slowly, the breeze catching her skirt. She had a lunchbox in one hand and a scarf in the other.
"I brought food," she said.
"I'm not hungry."
She sat beside him anyway. Left a small distance between them.
Neither spoke for a while. The sounds of the city—crows, sirens, distant school bells—filled the silence.
Then she opened her bento and held out half a sandwich wrapped in foil.
"Egg salad. Yume made it. Sort of."
"…You always carry food for lost zombies?"
She chuckled.
"You remembered that?"
He took the sandwich reluctantly, unwrapping it with one hand. It was messy. A little soggy. But somehow… it tasted warm.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked suddenly.
Asuka blinked. "Tell you what?"
"That you were a teacher."
"You didn't ask."
"…Tch."
More silence. The wind picked up again.
"You're not mad I yelled?" he mumbled.
"I've been yelled at worse."
"…Still."
"I know you didn't mean it."
He paused, then scoffed. "You think you've got me figured out already?"
"No." She turned to look at him. "But I've seen students like you before. Rough on the outside. But not bad."
He laughed bitterly. "People say that when they feel sorry for you."
"I don't feel sorry for you."
"Liar."
She gently placed her hand over his—briefly. Not romantic. Just… human.
> "You're not a bad kid, Kazama-kun. Just hurt."
That word landed in him like a stone in still water.
Hurt.
Not "angry."
Not "dangerous."
Not "problem child."
Just… hurt.
He didn't say anything. Couldn't. His throat tightened in a way that made him furious.
She stood up, dusting off her skirt.
"I'll cover for you. But next time you storm out, at least take your lunch."
"…Thanks."
"Anytime, Punch-kun."
He choked. "Don't call me that!"
She winked and walked away, the rooftop door creaking shut behind her.
Reiji stared at the half-eaten sandwich in his hand.
> "She's not just a teacher."
> She's the first adult who ever looked at me like I wasn't broken.
---