Watching her mother nestle so docilely and dependently in Kanjuro's embrace, Hiratsuka Shizuka felt a surge of blood rush to her head. Absurdity, anger, fear, and a deep sense of helplessness intertwined, almost tearing her apart. She forced down the sob in her throat, nails digging deep into her palms, struggling to keep her voice steady:
"Kanjuro... can I talk to you alone?"
Kanjuro raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by her initiative, then showed a knowing, playful smile. He gently patted Hiratsuka Yumi's hand, his tone tender: "Yumi, I'll have a few words with Shizuka."
Hiratsuka Yumi nodded obediently, her gaze at Kanjuro filled with unreserved trust.
Hiratsuka Shizuka led the way to the balcony. The cool night breeze brushed her flushed face but couldn't disperse the gloom in her heart. Kanjuro followed leisurely, casually closing the balcony glass door, isolating them from the living room lights and view.
"What do you want?" Hiratsuka Shizuka turned abruptly, her suppressed voice trembling, her eyes pleading with near despair. "Let me go, let my mom go, okay? I promise not to investigate you anymore; I'll stay far away from you!"
Kanjuro leaned against the railing, watching her teetering on the edge of collapse with amusement, a hint of mockery at the corner of his mouth. "Let you go?" he repeated softly, as if hearing something interesting. "Shizuka, I've already let you go."
He stepped forward, closing in on Hiratsuka Shizuka. Under the moonlight, his face was as handsome as a sculpture, but his eyes were terrifyingly deep. "Now, according to the established 'facts' and the correction of 'Authority,' I, Kanjuro, am your biological father." His tone was matter-of-fact, carrying an indisputable declaration. "Don't worry, as your 'father,' I won't harm you."
"Father?" Hiratsuka Shizuka almost laughed, but it was filled with bitterness and anger. "The things you did to me... and now you tell me you're my father?! What do you want?!"
Kanjuro's smile deepened, pure and malicious, like a child who'd obtained a new toy.
"I don't want to do anything," he said airily, his gaze lingering on her face, which was flushed with anger. "I just want to toy with you a little."
This nonchalant answer was like a bucket of ice water poured over Hiratsuka Shizuka's head, chilling her to the bone in an instant. All her fear, anger, and struggle were, in his eyes, nothing more than a whim to "toy" with her. All her resistance and pleas seemed so ridiculous and powerless.
A massive sense of exhaustion and emptiness swept over her. She looked at the man before her—this demon who had forced his way into her life, twisted her perception, trampled on her dignity, and now claimed to be her "father." She knew that all her resistance was futile.
She laughed out of extreme anger, with a dejected air of giving up on herself. "Fine, you're really something. Then can you... at least change my home back to the way it was? Turn my mom back to normal?"
Kanjuro shook his head, his tone carrying a hint of regret but leaving no room for negotiation. "That won't do. Once the Space-Time Authority is activated, causality is corrected. Now, I am your biological father, and your mother, Yumi Hiratsuka, has always been my woman from the past to the present. And you are my daughter. This is the 'fact'." He looked at her, his eyes calm and rippleless. "You can only accept your fate."
Accept your fate... These words were like a final verdict, shattering the last faint glimmer of hope in Hiratsuka Shizuka's heart.
She looked at Kanjuro for a long time, as if she wanted to carve this demon's face into the depths of her soul. Finally, she forced a smile that looked worse than crying, waved her hand, and said in a nearly numb tone:
"Fine, I accept my fate. Happy now?"
She stopped looking at Kanjuro, turned to pull open the balcony door, walked straight back to her room, and slammed the door shut.
From that day on, Hiratsuka Shizuka seemed to become a completely different person.
The girl who was once a bit prone to violence but kind-hearted and straightforward had disappeared.
She became taciturn, her eyes often carrying a lingering sense of hostility and mockery.
She began to skillfully light cigarettes, numbing herself in the clouds of smoke as if the swirling mist could temporarily dispel the nightmares haunting her heart.
Her temper also became increasingly pungent, like a hedgehog with its spines raised, using a sharp outer shell to protect the soul inside that was already riddled with holes and forcibly twisted.
All of these changes were seen by her classmates, but no one knew the reason.
Only she knew that the poisonous thorn buried deep in her life was named—Kanjuro.
And this "father" he had bestowed upon her became the most absurd and painful curse that she could never escape, gnawing at her day and night.
Time flew by like a white horse passing a gap. To an ordinary person, ten years is enough to change much, but for Kanjuro, cursed with eternal youth, it was but a blink of an eye. His face remained as handsome as an eighteen-year-old's; time could not carve any marks on him, making his presence in the high school campus seem increasingly eerie yet natural.
Occasionally, he would take the time to visit his other "home"—the Yukinoshita family. Yukino Yukinoshita and Haruno Yukinoshita were the daughters he had with Seiga Yukinoshita. Similar to Shizuka's mother, Seiga Yukinoshita was initially a victim of Kanjuro's dark desires, but under the erosion of long periods of time and Kanjuro's twisted charm, she had long since developed a morbid mental dependence, viewing Kanjuro as the center of her world. However, Yukino and Haruno knew nothing of this; the Kanjuro they had known since childhood was always that mysterious, handsome, and occasionally visiting "Uncle Kanjuro."
Today was the opening day of the new school year at Sobu High School. Kanjuro, just like countless opening days in the past, sat in the bright and clean classroom, his seat seemingly never having changed. Around him were vibrant freshmen full of longing for the future, while he was the immortal ghost hidden among them.
The phone in his pocket vibrated. He took it out nonchalantly; the screen displayed the name "Haruno Yukinoshita."
[Uncle Kanjuro, today is Little Yukino's first day of school. Remember to take good care of her.] It was followed by a cute emoji.
Kanjuro tapped his fingertips and replied with a single, cold word: [Mhm.]
Almost immediately, Haruno's next message popped up: [Uncle Kanjuro, Shizuka-chan (referring to Hiratsuka Shizuka) is also teaching at the school.] She always seemed to know things.
Kanjuro looked at the message, his lips curling into a playful arc as his fingers tapped on the screen: [Why? Why didn't you attend high school here?]
This was a question he had always been somewhat curious about. Given the Yukinoshita family's resources and his relationship with their mother, Haruno could have easily chosen Sobu High School.
The other end of the phone was silent for a few seconds, then a new message arrived, carrying a hint of imperceptible complex emotion:
[That's because I wanted to stay away from you.]
Kanjuro raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by this blunt answer, and followed up: [Stay away from me for what?]
This time, the reply came faster. Between the lines, one could imagine Haruno's tone being sly or perhaps a bit melancholy:
[Because I... like someone, and I didn't want to be in the same high school as you, Uncle Kanjuro, for fear that I wouldn't be able to control myself and would always want to get close to you.] She cleverly used an ellipsis, leaving an ambiguous space for imagination, then added matter-of-factly, [But well, I'm in university now, so it's no problem to go back to school occasionally to see Little Yukino (^_^)]
Kanjuro looked at the message, a flash of understanding and interest in his eyes. This girl Haruno was much more perceptive and bolder than her sister Yukino. She seemed to have vaguely sensed something, or rather, was attracted by the inhuman, dangerous charm he possessed, yet tried to maintain a sober distance. This subtle resistance and attraction was, in Kanjuro's eyes, just another interesting game.
He didn't reply further, put his phone back in his pocket, and looked out the window. In the season of fluttering cherry blossoms, freshmen in brand-new uniforms bustled through the campus. Among them was his biological daughter, Yukino Yukinoshita, who was as cold as snow and maintained a polite distance from him, her "uncle."
And he remained that eternal high school student hidden beneath a youthful skin, toying with fate and twisting ethics. A new school year, the old "game," continued. The shadow of Hiratsuka Shizuka had not yet dissipated, and the story of Yukino Yukinoshita seemed to have just begun. He was curious what kind of interesting play would be staged this time. On the first day of the new school year, the classroom of Class D at Sobu High School seemed to be particularly favored by time, or rather, anchored by the will of a certain existence. The layout remained the same, even the smell of chalk dust mixed with old wood in the air hadn't changed. Kanjuro sat in his old spot—the second to last row by the window. That was his exclusive throne; after ten years, the cherry blossom tree outside had grown thicker, while he remained that youth with fresh features, as if he had just stepped out of a coming-of-age manga.
The classroom door was pushed open, but it wasn't a green freshman who walked in, but a tall young woman with neat short hair wearing a professional suit—Hiratsuka Shizuka. Only now, her identity was no longer a student, but the new Japanese language teacher and the homeroom teacher of Class D.
Her gaze habitually swept across the classroom she knew to her core, a hint of unspeakable complexity flitting across her eyes. When her gaze finally landed on that figure by the window, her breath hitched almost imperceptibly. Kanjuro... forever eighteen, forever a high school student. Ten years of time had carved the marks of growth from a girl to a teacher on her, but failed to leave even a single fine line on his face. Anger, fear, humiliation, and a complex emotion brewed by time that she herself was unwilling to admit surged in her chest. She quickly looked away and took a deep breath, trying to suppress her emotions.
"Alright, everyone quiet down." Hiratsuka Shizuka tapped the lectern, her voice carrying the authority unique to a teacher, suppressing the buzzing discussion in the classroom caused by the influx of freshmen. She began the routine roll call, her eyes scanning the register. "It seems one student is on leave for hospitalization..."
Before she could finish, the classroom door was pulled open somewhat frantically.
"Um... sorry! I'm late!"
A timid yet effortfully energetic female voice rang out. Everyone looked toward the sound and saw a girl with a cute bun hairstyle and gentle pink hair standing at the door. She was panting slightly from running, her cheeks flushed, as she looked around the nearly full classroom in a bit of a daze.
Her gaze searched the classroom, seemingly looking for an empty seat. Finally, her eyes fixed on the second to last row—next to the youth who was so handsome he didn't look real, there happened to be an empty seat.
With almost no hesitation, Yui Yuigahama plucked up her courage and, under many curious or scrutinizing gazes, walked quickly across the classroom to the seat next to Kanjuro.
She put down her schoolbag, turned her head, and gave this seatmate—who looked exceptionally handsome but also somewhat distant—a bright and slightly nervous smile, introducing herself:
"Hello! My name is... Yui Yuigahama! Please take care of me from now on!"
Her voice was crisp, like a bird's song in the morning, injecting a fresh and ignorant vitality into this classroom shrouded by old shadows and eternal existence.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the classroom, a few girls were whispering.
"So handsome..." Miura Yumiko couldn't help but cover her small mouth, her eyes fixed intently on Kanjuro's profile. Beside her, Ebina Hina's eyes were shining, an excited light flashing behind her lenses.
"He seems to be called Kanjuro... Heavens, is he as handsome as Hayama Hayato? No, it feels like a different type of handsomeness!" Ebina whispered, her tone full of the excitement of discovering a new world.
Miura Yumiko was more reserved and whispered a reminder: "Shh, be quiet."
On the lectern, Hiratsuka Shizuka's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly as she watched Yui Yuigahama sit down next to Kanjuro without hesitation. That seat... seemed to carry some kind of curse. She knew Kanjuro's danger, and seeing this seemingly simple and cheerful pink-haired girl approach that beautiful abyss without any defense, a sense of responsibility as a teacher and a certain shared worry quietly emerged.
Kanjuro's reaction to the arrival of his new seatmate was flat. He only turned his head slightly, glanced at Yui Yuigahama's vibrant smiling face, his deep eyes showing no ripples. He gave an extremely slight nod as a response, then turned back to look out the window.
Yui Yuigahama didn't seem to mind his coldness. Instead, she breathed a sigh of relief for successfully finding a seat and saying hello, and began to organize her books on her own.
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on the two of them, sketching a seemingly harmonious picture of seatmates. However, Hiratsuka Shizuka on the lectern felt a sudden, inexplicable chill. She knew that beneath this seemingly ordinary daily life, undercurrents had already begun to surge. A new "story" seemed to be quietly unfolding around that eternal youth and his new seatmate who knew nothing.
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