The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a small stone dropped into a calm lake, instantly breaking the classroom's tranquility.
It was as abrupt as a clap of thunder.
Almost at the same moment, all the students' gazes, with a whoosh, focused uniformly.
Several girls in the front row even covered their mouths. Kobayashi, sitting next to Kyosuke, exaggeratedly opened his mouth wide, his eyes as big as copper bells, wearing an expression that said, "You're dead meat."
Of course, this included Teacher Kinoshita, who had just turned around, preparing to continue her lecture.
Her hand, holding the chalk, paused in mid-air. The expression on her face remained unchanged; only her eyes, which usually held a smile, were now calm and unruffled as they looked over, like a searchlight, precisely locking onto the source of the sound—Kyosuke.
Kyosuke's face instantly flushed crimson, redder than the electric pouches on Pikachu's cheeks.
He felt all the blood in his body rush to his head, his heart drumming wildly in his chest, his ears buzzing, almost unable to hear any sound around him.
He frantically fumbled to press the power button, trying to hide the little guy who had "betrayed" him at that crucial moment.
But the more flustered he was, the more his fingers disobeyed him, pressing several times on the smooth casing of the Poké Ball.
But it was all too late.
Teacher Kinoshita had stopped lecturing, and the classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Even the occasional cicada chirping from outside the window seemed to be silenced by the frozen atmosphere.
There was no obvious expression on her face; no joy or anger could be discerned.
She just quietly looked at Kyosuke, then started walking, her high heels tapping on the wooden floor, making a "tap, tap, tap" sound.
To Kyosuke, that sound was terrifyingly clear, each tap like stepping on his heart, making it difficult for him to breathe.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely; with every step the teacher took, another bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.
He wished he could dig a hole in the ground and crawl in, never to come out and face any of this. Or, simply turn into a real Pikachu and stun himself with a hundred thousand volts.
Teacher Kinoshita walked unhurriedly to Kyosuke's desk.
Kyosuke buried his head low, almost touching his open Chinese textbook, his ears so red they looked like they could drip blood.
He didn't even dare to glance at the teacher's shoetips.
He could feel the teacher's gaze resting on the top of his head, as if it had tangible weight.
The expected storm did not immediately descend.
A suffocating calm permeated the air.
Teacher Kinoshita bent down, her voice still retaining its usual gentle quality, like a spring breeze caressing a lake, yet it made Kyosuke tremble even more violently.
"Kyosuke, you really like your new companion, don't you?"
Kyosuke's head drooped even lower, his nose almost touching the page, and he hummed a mosquito-like "Mm," so softly that he doubted if he had even made a sound.
"But during class, it also needs to be quiet, just like us."
Teacher Kinoshita's tone carried a hint of an imperceptible smile, yet it also had an undeniable gentleness.
There was no reproach in her voice; instead, it was as if she were stating a universally understood truth.
"You can't be distracted in class, okay? How about you hand it over to the teacher for safekeeping?"
She extended her hand, her fair, slender fingers resting beside Kyosuke's desk, her nails neatly trimmed.
"After school, come to my office, and we can have a good chat about it."
Kyosuke's eyes felt a little warm. Slowly, and extremely reluctantly, with trembling hands, he placed the Pikachu electronic pet he held into the teacher's open palm.
The moment the cold Poké Ball left his palm, he felt as if a piece had been gouged out of his heart, leaving it empty and deeply uncomfortable.
"Mm..." he responded softly, still not daring to look up into the teacher's eyes, fearing to see disappointment or sternness.
Teacher Kinoshita took the Pikachu, holding it in her palm, then straightened up and gave a slight smile to the entire class, as if the little interlude just now was merely an insignificant game in class.
"Alright, let's continue with the lesson. We were just talking about this Chinese character..."
It was as if the heart-stopping scene from moments ago had never happened.
Only Kyosuke knew that he was already out of his wits.
But for Kyosuke, the next few classes, every minute and every second, felt like an ordeal on a hot iron plate.
Without Pikachu's companionship, his pocket was empty, and so was his heart.
He kept wanting to reach for it, but each time his hand met empty air.
He couldn't hear anything the teacher was saying; his mind was like a movie playing on a loop, constantly replaying the scene from earlier.
The teacher's calm gaze, his classmates' suppressed laughter, and Pikachu's crisp cry intertwined in his mind.
How would Teacher Kinoshita handle this matter?
Would she be like teacher Yamada from the next class, giving him an hour-long "moral education" in the office, then confiscating the electronic pet for a week and ordering him to write a five-hundred-word self-criticism?
Or would it be more serious, directly calling his mom and asking his parents to come to school?
At the thought of his mom's disappointed and angry eyes, Kyosuke shivered.
Pikachu is with the teacher... will it be okay? What will the teacher do with it? Will she accidentally press a button and clear his save data? Or, in a fit of anger, will she just throw it into the deepest part of a drawer and never return it to him?
All sorts of conjectures swirled in his mind, like a swarm of flies that wouldn't go away, buzzing constantly.
One moment he worried Pikachu would be hungry, wondering if a rescue icon of a small berry would appear on the screen; the next moment he worried the teacher might accidentally knock it off the desk and break its casing.
This anxious and uneasy feeling, like a small flame, burned in his chest, making him restless, and it continued until the dismissal bell rang.
"Ding-a-ling-ling—"
To him, the dismissal bell sounded more like a death knell, announcing the arrival of "judgment time."
He slowly packed his schoolbag, every movement in slow motion, almost shuffling, step by step, towards the teachers' office.
With each step, his heart sank a little more.
The office door was ajar, and inside he could hear the voices of other teachers talking and the rustling of paper and pens as they graded assignments.
Kyosuke stood at the doorway, his palms sweating. He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, trying to brace himself before raising his hand to knock on the door.
"Come in." It was Teacher Kinoshita's voice, still so calm.
He pushed the door open, and several teachers in the office looked up at him, their gazes varied—some with curiosity, others just a quick glance before they returned to their work.
The air seemed to solidify, making it hard for him to breathe.
He felt his cheeks beginning to burn again.
Teacher Kinoshita was sitting at her desk, grading assignments, her red ballpoint pen moving swiftly across the notebooks, making a faint "shush-shush" sound.
Seeing Kyosuke enter, she looked up, beckoned to him, and a gentle smile appeared on her face, looking no different than usual.