Two weeks before the summer break.
The weather had grown unbearably warm, and students had switched to their summer uniforms.
On this scorching morning, crowds of students streamed toward the school gates, chatting excitedly about vacation plans or grumbling about the heat.
Not long after, Ao appeared— and the same old cycle began again.
The bespectacled boy from before was doing everything he could to avoid being noticed, but fate was not on his side. Ao found him with pinpoint accuracy.
The boy flinched violently the moment he felt a tap on his shoulder. His blood froze the second he turned and saw who it was.
He prayed silently— but this time, Ao didn't come to collect money.
He handed the boy a small envelope.
The bespectacled boy stared at it, confused.
"Here… the money I borrowed."
Ao shoved the envelope toward him, practically forcing it into his hands.
But the boy, trembling in fear and confusion, kept refusing.
"Just take it, dammit!! You don't want your money back or what!?"
The boy finally accepted it, startled beyond reason.
Ao turned and walked away immediately.
The boy quickly tore open the envelope.
"What the—!? This is 2,500 sil!!
There's not a bomb hidden in here, right!?!?"
"I can hear you just fine, idiot!!! We're not even far apart—learn to think in your head!!!"
Ao shouted without turning back.
The boy hesitated for a moment… then, gathering every ounce of courage he had, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled:
"M–my name is Irino Maru!! Nice to meet you, Onishima-san!!!"
Maru waved frantically like a madman, even though Ao didn't turn around once.
"You're actually a good guy, aren't you!!?"
Ao froze for a split second.
Then he glanced back with an expression as blank as a slate.
A good guy…? Someone like me…?
Today, Ao felt strangely different. As if he wasn't himself at all.
The sound of locker doors opening and closing echoed through the corridor. Students greeted each other cheerfully—until the moment Ao stepped into the building.
Everything fell silent. Instantly.
Not a single whisper remained. Even the sound of Ao's footsteps echoed like a warning bell down the hall.
Some students held their breath. Some shut their eyes and muttered prayers. Some simply froze, trembling head to toe.
"Good morning."
Ao's quiet greeting sent shockwaves through the hallway. A chorus of gasps rippled behind him as he walked away.
"What… what just happened!?"
Confused whispers erupted the moment he was out of earshot.
Even when he passed students he normally bullied, he only said:
"Morning."
Then kept walking.
No one dared respond. Shock and confusion filled the entire school, and by midday the story had spread to every corner of the campus.
Throughout the week, Ao volunteered to do classroom chores—both morning and evening—by himself.
His classmates exchanged uneasy glances, too scared and too confused to say anything.
Ao continued like that every day for a full week.
Then came the final day before summer break.
The sunlight streaming through the classroom windows had turned orange; birds were flying home to their nests. The final bell rang.
Excited students rushed out of the school building, eager for tomorrow's freedom.
But in the now-empty corridor, the classroom was silent.
Ao stood alone at the chalkboard, carefully erasing the day's lessons.
The cawing of crows outside slipped in through a slightly open window. The curtains fluttered in the warm breeze.
Only the sound of Ao's breathing filled the room.
The chalk dust faded with each stroke of the eraser until the board was clean.
He tapped the eraser tray quietly into place.
And then—
A sigh escaped him as he glanced toward the door behind him.
"…Muyagura-sensei."
Teacher's POV
From the very first day he entered this school as a first-year, I noticed that boy.
The look in his eyes caught me immediately—sharp, unwavering, full of ambition… and drenched in resentment.
I didn't know what he had been through, and honestly, at first, I didn't care. I lived my life as a guidance counselor, giving advice about future careers or listening to students' everyday struggles.
I ended up close with many of the girls in class.
Everything in that first semester was peaceful—routine, predictable.
Until the second semester began.
Rumors spread like wildfire about a student who won magic duels without using magic.
At first, I dismissed them as exaggerated gossip. There was no way such a thing was real.
…Until I saw it for myself.
Onishima Ao.
Those eyes of his, burning with fury— He was overpowering upperclassmen with pure physical force. No—crushing them was a more accurate word.
He moved so fast I could barely follow him with my eyes. And his fights always ended the same way:
With the opponent beaten unconscious.
Fear gripped me instantly.
I avoided him at all costs. If I sensed him nearby, my legs would shake on their own.
But destiny is cruel.
He ended up assigned to my advisory group.
I had no choice but to oversee him.
One day, we collected surveys about students' desired high schools. Most had reasonable answers—ambitious, but grounded.
No one would dare write down a top national academy.
Not even the talented elf boy in class, who only listed a prestigious provincial school.
But then… I saw something that froze me in place.
Aspida Academy. One of the highest-ranked schools in the entire eastern district of Rebelol.
Only a handful of graduates from our middle school had ever gotten in.
And the name on that paper—
Onishima Ao.
I could hardly believe it.
I had spent months avoiding him—ducking behind walls, slipping away before he noticed me.
But fate laughed at me once more.
I had to speak with him about his goals.
Except… I couldn't.
Every time I approached him, every time I even sensed his presence, my knees grew weak.
But one day… things began to change.
Every time he won a duel, there was no pride in his eyes.
None.
In fact, the more I looked, the more I saw something else:
Fear. Hurt. A crushing weight.
He wasn't fighting for glory or bravado. He was fighting for something much heavier—something eating him from the inside.
Where had the ambition in his eyes gone? When had it been replaced with desperation?
Slowly, my fear toward him faded.
I saw the raw, battered hands he trained with every morning before sunrise. I saw the wounds he overcame. I saw the boy who pushed his broken body further than any child should.
So then why…?
Why did I crush his dream with just a few careless words?
Even though I knew exactly how hard he tried…
Ever since the day I pulled him aside to talk, we've barely made eye contact.
The guilt gnaws at me every time he looks away.
Why didn't I encourage him? Why didn't I guide him better? Why didn't I help him reach for that impossible dream?
Why… Why didn't I believe in him?