After warming up to Nanako and Mimiko, Kanon's confidence returned. Her gaze began to drift, curious about the other students who would share her school life.
The gentle morning light bathed the courtyard, softening edges and warming stone. A light breeze carried the scent of cedar and fresh grass.
The first person to claim her attention was the girl in the corner.
Zenin Maki sat apart from the others, her posture straight and composed. Tall and sharply defined, she carried herself with an unspoken authority that made her impossible to overlook. Beside her rested a massive, battle-scarred trunk—its contents clanking softly whenever the wind shifted. Her deep blue-green hair was pulled into a high, sharp ponytail that swayed with the slightest movement. Her brown eyes, long and steady, held a quiet, absolute certainty.
The moment Kanon's gaze landed on her, Maki's eyes shifted. A brief, deliberate nod.
'She's... intense,' Kanon thought, quickly looking away. 'But in a good way.'
"A Heavenly Restriction," Kenjaku's voice murmured in her mind, a thread of genuine interest threading through his words. "And a perfected one. Impressive. Such physiques are rare."
Kanon filed that away and moved on.
Her next target was impossible to miss—not because of noise, but because of the sheer presence radiating from one half of a pair.
Okkotsu Yuta stood with his weight shifted slightly, a cloth bag slung over one shoulder. A katana hilt peeked out from within. His short black hair was neat, his peacock-blue eyes deep and slightly shadowed—heavy dark circles beneath them suggesting sleepless nights. Despite his lean, almost fragile frame, there was something coiled beneath the surface.
Pressed close to his side was Rika Orimoto, her long, ink-black hair cascading over one shoulder. Her face was tilted up toward his, bright with an unguarded, radiant happiness. She leaned into him like a flower seeking sunlight.
When Yuta noticed Kanon's gaze, he offered a warm, genuine smile. His arm naturally curled around Rika's shoulders, and she playfully wiggled her fingers in a small wave.
Kanon felt her cheeks heat. 'Those dark circles... should I say something? Maybe just... a gentle reminder?'
"That cursed energy density," Kenjaku said, his mental voice carrying something rare—genuine surprise. "Comparable to Gojo Satoru. Perhaps even... no, not yet. But the potential is there."
He had believed his three years of grooming Kanon were exceptional. Now, confronted with two anomalies in a single courtyard, his calculations silently recalibrated.
Kanon's gaze shifted again.
Inumaki Toge sat with his back against a pillar, his short white hair catching the light like fresh snow. A high-collared garment obscured the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes visible—calm, observant, slightly amused. When their eyes met, his crinkled into gentle crescents. He raised a hand and formed a silent "OK" gesture.
Kanon found herself smiling. There was something endearing about his quiet confidence.
"Cursed Speech," Kenjaku analyzed. "A rare lineage. The collar is a restraint—and a necessity. He likely cannot control it fully yet."
Then, something round and fluffy entered her peripheral vision.
A panda. An actual, walking, uniform-wearing panda.
It stood on two legs, clad in the same school jacket as everyone else, its round face friendly and open. When it noticed Kanon staring, it raised a paw and gave a cheerful wave.
Kanon let out an involuntary giggle. 'So cute! I wonder which classmate brought their pet...'
"That is a fully autonomous Cursed Corpse," Kenjaku said flatly. "Created by the school's principal, Yaga Masamichi. It is not a pet. It is your classmate."
Kanon's face went scarlet. She immediately whipped around and bowed deeply to the panda. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to assume—!"
The panda blinked, its head tilting at a comical angle. Question marks might as well have been floating above its fuzzy head.
Kanon straightened, her heart still fluttering with embarrassment. She looked around the courtyard—at the sharp-eyed girl with the weapon trunk, the exhausted boy and his radiant companion, the mysterious white-haired figure, the bewildered panda, and the twins beside her who had saved her from awkward silence.
Each of them carried their own stories, their own strengths, their own shadows.
'What kind of stories will we write together?'
The thought settled in her chest, warm and buoyant. Like a playful fawn kicking up its heels, her anticipation refused to settle.
Beside her, the golden goldfish drifted in slow, contemplative circles.
'Kamo Itsuki,' Kenjaku thought, his gaze sweeping over the gathered students. 'You've assembled quite a collection. How convenient.'
His patience, as always, was infinite.
"The assembly time is almost here. Why isn't the teacher here yet?" Kanon frowned, her voice tinged with mild impatience.
Then, without sound, without displacement—simply there—a figure stood among them.
The reactions were immediate.
Zenin Maki's breath caught. Her eyes locked onto the familiar crimson hair, the composed posture, the quiet authority that radiated without effort. Her heart surged, a wild, eager flutter she immediately suppressed. 'Dignity,' she reminded herself, forcing her expression to remain neutral. 'You're not a child anymore.'
Okkotsu Yuta's hand, resting on Rika's shoulder, tightened almost imperceptibly. "Rika," he murmured. "Teacher Kamo is here." Before arriving, Gojo Satoru had briefed them extensively—descriptions, warnings, expectations. Yuta recognized the man instantly.
Beside him, Rika tilted her head, curious.
Within Kanon's innate domain, the golden goldfish ceased its lazy drifting.
'Impossible.' Kenjaku's mental voice was barely a whisper, pressed flat by shock. 'Three years. Only three years. His growth trajectory... this isn't normal. This isn't human.' The pressure radiating from Kamo Itsuki, even at rest, was suffocating. A silent, absolute weight. 'If he detects me...'
For the first time in a millennium, Kenjaku genuinely feared death.
"Hello, everyone." Kamo Itsuki's voice was warm, unhurried, as if he had been standing there all along. Sunlight caught the edges of his form, tracing him in soft gold. "I am Kamo Itsuki. I will be your homeroom instructor for the duration of your studies."
A beat of silence. Then, a ripple of realization.
Kanon stared. The man before her was... not what she expected. His vibrant red hair was neatly styled, catching light like polished garnet. His features were finely chiseled—deep-set eyes, a straight nose, a calm, composed mouth. But it wasn't mere aesthetics that held her gaze. It was the presence. The quiet, unshakable confidence that seemed to steep from him like aged liquor, rich and intoxicating. He radiated patience, warmth, an almost paternal gentleness.
Yet beneath it, something vast and still, like the deep ocean under a calm surface.
'...My teacher is gorgeous,' Kanon thought, dazed. 'Is this allowed?'
"He's even more handsome than before," Nanako whispered.
"Mm," Mimiko agreed softly, both sisters nodding in quiet consensus.
The panda, who had only ever seen photographs, tilted its round head and studied the man with open, professional curiosity. "So this is the famous Kamo Itsuki..."
Only Inumaki Toge remained tense. His body, honed by instinct, recognized threat before his mind could process it. The man was smiling, warm and approachable—and Toge's muscles refused to uncoil.
'Strong,' he thought, his fingers curling slightly. 'Dangerous.'
Kamo Itsuki surveyed his new students—the wary, the awed, the reverent, the terrified. His smile did not waver.
"I look forward to working with all of you."
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