Half a minute later, Hirakawa Tetsuya stared at the cup on his desk.
And fell into silence.
"So it's real."
That system.
That ridiculous, unbelievable system…
It actually worked.
Kuda-sensei's dazed expression earlier—
it wasn't acting.
It looked exactly like she'd been… hypnotized.
"Yeah. Hypnosis."
And somehow, that word made things worse.
Because when he connected it with the system's instructions…
his brain immediately wandered to some very questionable late-night TV scenarios.
"Nope."
He took a sip of water and forcefully cleared his mind.
As a teacher,
there were lines you don't cross.
"Kuda-sensei."
He put the cup down and looked at the young woman beside him.
"Hm? Hirakawa-sensei, what is it?"
She blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes.
Too innocent.
Suspiciously innocent.
For a brief moment, Hirakawa actually felt guilty.
…but only for a moment.
With the mindset of a serious researcher, he asked:
"Do you remember what you just did?"
"Huh?"
She tilted her head slightly, confused.
Then answered honestly:
"I just helped a lazy teacher get some water."
"Ah, right. That did happen. Thank you, Kuda-sensei."
On the surface, he smiled politely.
But internally,
he was analyzing everything.
So the memory remains.
Which means
this ability has limits.
At the very least, it can't completely erase awareness.
"Good,"
he muttered inwardly.
Because if it could…
that would be terrifying.
And dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"Not that I would ever use it like that."
He straightened slightly.
After all,
he was a teacher.
"Then why did you help me get water?"
"Eh?"
She looked puzzled again.
"Well… because you asked me to?"
Her tone carried a hint of confusion,
as if the question itself didn't make sense.
Hirakawa averted his gaze.
"I see."
So not only does it force compliance…
it also creates a false sense of willingness.
The target doesn't feel threatened.
Doesn't feel controlled.
They simply… accept it.
"That's messed up."
He exhaled quietly.
Even with limitations,
if this system fell into the wrong hands…
it would be a disaster.
Fortunately,
he wasn't that kind of person.
"Yeah. Definitely not."
He got lost in thought again.
Completely.
So much so that he didn't notice
Kuda-sensei slowly leaning closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Until—
"Hirakawa-sensei?"
He snapped back to reality.
"Kuda-sensei, you're too close."
But she didn't move away.
Instead, she stared at him with concern.
"Are you tired?"
"No."
She paused.
Then corrected herself:
"Actually, no—that's not right. Someone like you would never let yourself get tired."
"What does that even mean?"
That hurt.
Unnecessarily.
"I'm fine. Really."
He turned his head slightly, staring at the culprit on his desk—
the cup.
"That's weird though… you just forgot what happened?"
Kuda-sensei frowned.
Clearly unconvinced.
She could tell something was off—
but not what.
Of course,
there was no way he could explain the system.
That was practically a universal rule.
So,
he changed the topic.
"Thank you."
"Huh?"
"For everything. Since I joined."
He looked straight into her eyes this time.
Sincere.
Serious.
"These past few months… you've helped me a lot."
"Eh?"
Now she looked completely lost.
So was he.
But he kept going anyway.
"You see…"
"Yes?"
"Ah."
He finally found a direction.
"At the meeting earlier… the principal entrusted Tsutsuhara's case to me."
Her expression turned serious.
"Yeah."
"And honestly, I can't just ignore a student like that."
"Right."
"But her situation—"
He paused slightly.
"—is complicated."
Very complicated.
Because
Tsutsuhara Shiori wasn't just any student.
Her mother was the chairman of the school.
Which meant
she was untouchable.
"If I mess this up…"
He smiled faintly.
"I might even be asked to resign."
"!"
Kuda-sensei froze.
Because she knew—
that wasn't an exaggeration.
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's not like that!"
She panicked slightly.
But before she could say more,
the bell rang.
Class time.
Saved by the bell.
"I'll head to class."
Hirakawa picked up his materials and stood up carefully,
making sure not to bump into her
since she was still leaning in front of him.
Then he walked out.
Leaving her behind.
Standing there.
Thinking.
"Wait."
Something felt off.
"If he was thanking me…"
"Shouldn't he be the one getting me water?"
"Then why did I just get tricked into doing it again?"
"Huh?"
But Hirakawa didn't hear any of that.
Because right now,
he had a bigger problem.
Tsutsuhara Shiori.
A student with power.
A family you can't offend.
And a situation that
was already spiraling out of control.
The issue began during a three-way meeting.
Student.
Parent.
Teacher.
A discussion about her future.
Career path.
Life direction.
Her mother's assistant said:
"The chairman's intention is for Miss Tsutsuhara to pursue finance in university and inherit the family business."
Clear.
Decisive.
Expected.
But Shiori's answer was simple:
"I want to study music."
And just like that,
everything exploded.
The argument dragged on.
Until finally,
her mother called.
And said:
"I respect her choice."
Sounds reasonable, right?
Except—
right after the meeting ended,
the assistant turned to Hirakawa and said:
"The chairman hopes that before the second year… Miss Tsutsuhara will change her mind."
"And voluntarily give up music."
"Yeah."
Hirakawa sighed.
What a wonderfully respectful parent.