Hiratsuka Shizuka looked suspiciously at Kiba Hoshiki and Miko Yotsuya, who were sitting across from her in the teacher's office. Her brows furrowed slightly.
"Just a sprained ankle? He was just helping you up? That's all? Then why were you crying?"
Miko Yotsuya, who had already wiped her tears with a tissue, was still a bit dazed and out of it. When Hiratsuka Shizuka repeated her question, Miko finally snapped back to reality and quickly answered.
"Um… it was just because my ankle hurt a lot… sorry for the misunderstanding, Sensei."
"Really?"
Miko nodded like a chick pecking at rice.
"Yes, yes, it's true."
She wasn't stupid.She knew that if she told the truth—about evil spirits in the clubroom and Kiba devouring them—there was no way Hiratsuka Shizuka would believe her.She'd probably just get labeled as a delusional problem student.And on the very first day of high school, that was the last impression Miko wanted to leave.
"In that case, are you going back to the classroom, or should I have someone take you to the infirmary?"
Miko quickly waved her hands, forcing out a polite smile.
"Thank you for your concern, Sensei. I'm feeling much better now."
With that, she got up and hurried out of the office.
As Hiratsuka watched her go, her eyes flashed with something unreadable. Then, she turned to Kiba, who was still sitting in front of her. She rubbed her forehead helplessly and picked up the peach wood dagger from the desk.
"And what's this?"
Kiba replied without missing a beat. "An ornament."
Hiratsuka raised an eyebrow. Her slender fingers tapped the blade's edge.
"Let's ignore the fact that this thing is dangerous for a moment…"
She then picked up the silver nail from the table and waved it in front of him.
"This, at the very least, is something you're absolutely not allowed to bring to school. Why do you even carry it around?"
"For self-defense."
"Self-defense against what? This is a school. Both this nail and that wooden dagger—confiscated."
She tossed both items into her drawer with a sigh. After a short pause, she glanced at the talismans—ones scribbled with crooked symbols—and handed them back to him.
"These don't break any rules, so you can keep them."
"Thank you, Sensei."
Kiba took them without protest, though he couldn't help thinking:You confiscated the two actually useful things… and gave me back the worthless ones.
Still, he carefully pocketed the talismans. He'd have to visit that old man selling charms in front of the shrine and ask for a refund.
"By the way…"Hiratsuka hesitated for a moment, then finally asked with a doubtful tone.
"Do they print talismans these days? Does that even work?"
Kiba nodded nonchalantly.
"Modern times call for modern methods. The printer ink is specially blessed."
"I see…"
Hiratsuka gave a vague nod and then said with a straight face, "Alright then. Head back to your classroom."
"Understood."
Once Kiba left, another female teacher sitting in the office spoke up. She wore a sharp, professional suit paired with black stockings and heels. Her long, cherry-pink hair was tied neatly behind her, and she carried a calm, no-nonsense aura.
"Shizuka, you're too soft on your students. Stirring up this much trouble on the first day? What happens when it gets worse?"
Hiratsuka sipped her coffee casually and waved her hand dismissively.
"It's fine. Since neither of them wants to talk, there's no point in digging."
The cherry-pink-haired teacher replied in the same even, calm tone—but her words cut deep.
"Are you afraid that if you keep asking, you'll stumble upon the budding love story of a boy and girl—and get emotionally triggered?"
"You—!"
Hiratsuka shot her a glare and raised a clenched fist.
"You're no better! You're still single too!"
"I'm not the same as you."
The other woman remained perfectly composed.
"I've already dedicated my heart and soul to the correct guidance of students. That is the true duty of an educator."
Hiratsuka rolled her eyes.
"My teaching philosophy's different from yours, alright? Let's just drop it."
They had known each other a long time, as both colleagues and friends. Hiratsuka knew very well what kind of person Kirisu Mafuyu was.An extremely responsible teacher—one who would push students to fully realize their potential, even if it went against their wishes.
As for Hiratsuka herself?
Grades weren't everything. As long as her students grew into mentally and physically healthy adults over the course of three years, that was enough.
Thinking about it, she opened the drawer and glanced at its contents with a complicated expression.
"That kid's mindset… looks like I'll need to schedule a counseling session with him soon."
Elsewhere.
When Kiba Hoshiki walked into Class 1-A, the idle chatter in the classroom stopped immediately.
"Wait, he's in our class?""He's kind of handsome.""Should we go talk to him?""No need to rush. We're classmates. There'll be plenty of chances later."...
Kiba's appearance definitely stood out. His features were sharp, and at over 1.8 meters tall, he had a presence that turned heads.
In one corner, Miko Yotsuya, who had already picked a seat, visibly tensed up the moment she saw him enter.
Her reaction was understandable.What she had witnessed in the clubroom earlier had left a strong impression—one that bordered on surreal.
Evil spirits were afraid of a human?And Kiba, not only could he see them—he could consume them?
From the way he handled things, it was obvious this wasn't his first time.
Miko's curiosity was practically bursting, but with so many students around, she couldn't ask anything right now.
Kiba scanned the room.Many faces looked familiar.
That made sense.After all—he was a transmigrator.
This world was a fusion of various slice-of-life anime, and Kiba had originally believed he could enjoy a peaceful life, surrounded by cute anime girls.
Good news: cute girls were indeed everywhere.Bad news: Miko Yotsuya was one of them, and her world had come packaged with malevolent spirits.
"So sleepy…"
He yawned, then made a beeline for the back corner seat by the window—every anime protagonist's rightful throne.
Just as he placed his bag down, a girl with long, jet-black hair placed her slender white hand on the back of the chair.
Their eyes met. Her voice was cold and clear.
"I chose this seat first."
Kiba didn't budge. He smiled lightly.
"I already put my bag down."
"You can pick it back up."
"Then you can move your hand."
As the tension grew, a girl with a twin-bun hairstyle, dressed in slightly flashy gyaru fashion, walked over. She had been chatting with friends but quickly stepped in with a soothing tone.
"Hey now, it's just a seat. No need to argue, right?"
Kiba looked at her seriously.
"No, you don't understand."
He pointed toward the window, voice full of conviction.
"This seat holds legendary value."