After Amamiya Yoru left—
The shrine fell silent again.
Only Hirakawa Tetsuya remained.
And four cats.
"I've still got class this afternoon," he muttered, crouching down. "I'll come pick you up tonight. Don't wander off."
The large white cat glanced at him.
"Meow."
Which roughly translated to:
Yeah, yeah. Stop nagging.
Then it turned its head away—completely uninterested.
"Wow. Ignored by a cat."
Hirakawa stood up, brushing off his uniform.
But he didn't mind.
Only kids argued with cats.
He left the shrine.
Followed the overgrown path.
Walked out of the woods.
That cat had probably been living there for a long time.
Even after meeting Yoru,
It stayed.
Had kittens.
Settled down.
It wasn't going anywhere.
Besides—
There was food in the box.
Towels too.
Everything had already been prepared by Yoru.
So there was nothing to worry about.
As he walked toward school,
Unhurried,
His thoughts drifted.
To Amamiya Yoru.
To chuunibyou.
And then—
To someone from his previous life.
A colleague.
A young male teacher.
Also a literature teacher.
At the time, he had been teaching a graduating class.
They weren't particularly close.
Just coworkers.
Shared the same office.
That was it.
But Hirakawa remembered him as—
Gentle.
Refined.
Easygoing.
Of course,
That might've just been his own assumption.
After all,
Hirakawa always believed literature teachers were like that.
Calm.
Slow-paced.
Soft-spoken.
Just like himself.
So naturally,
He assumed others were the same.
Until that day.
Graduation ended.
The teachers went out to celebrate.
They went to KTV.
And that same calm, refined teacher—
After one bottle of alcohol,
Changed completely.
First, he sang.
Loudly.
Passionately.
Then—
He started shouting.
Not at anyone.
Just
Venting.
For several minutes straight.
Everyone was stunned.
The contrast was… extreme.
The next day,
Someone asked him about it.
He just smiled awkwardly.
"First time teaching a graduating class. The pressure was intense."
"I was afraid I'd mess up the students' future."
"Yesterday… I just needed to let it out."
"Sorry for the embarrassment."
That was all.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing tragic.
Just
A quiet person reaching their limit.
And needing a way to breathe.
"So that's why."
Hirakawa murmured.
That memory
Had surfaced for a reason.
Because
Yoru was the same.
Bzz
Bzz
His phone vibrated.
Breaking his thoughts.
He glanced at the screen
And answered immediately.
"Hello."
"Hello, Hirakawa-sensei."
A gentle, polite voice.
Amamiya Yoru's mother.
"Yes, this is Hirakawa."
"I'm very sorry. I was just on the phone with Yoru, so I missed your call earlier."
"It's fine."
"Really, thank you for today."
"You're too kind. It's just my responsibility as her teacher."
Still—
Being thanked by a parent
Did feel good.
That quiet sense of being trusted.
Acknowledged.
"Ah, right, Hirakawa-sensei."
"Yes?"
"About Yoru."
"What exactly did she do today?"
"She still won't tell me."
He paused.
Didn't answer immediately.
"Hirakawa-sensei?"
"Yes."
This was tricky.
He had promised Yoru.
But—
Hiding things from a parent didn't sit well with him either.
He looked ahead.
Silent.
Thinking.
On the other end,
She waited.
Patiently.
By the time he reached the school gate,
Cherry blossoms were in full bloom.
Soft pink petals filled the air.
Branches swayed gently.
Petals drifted down,
Covering the ground like a quiet, fragile road.
Hirakawa stopped.
"Excuse me. Please wait a moment."
"Hm? Of course… is something wrong?"
Instead of answering,
He lowered the phone.
Pulled out a mask.
Put it on.
Then picked the phone back up
And started walking again.
Faster this time.
Stepping through the sea of pink.
"Sorry. I'm good now."
His voice came out slightly muffled.
"Hirakawa-sensei? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just… allergic to cherry blossoms."
"Ah, the ones at the school gate?"
"Yes."
"That must be inconvenient."
"It is what it is."
"I understand. I'm actually allergic to cats myself. If I see one outside, I keep my distance…"
"…Sorry, I think I went off topic."
"No, it's fine."
Not off topic at all.
In fact—
That was exactly the point.
Behind the mask,
Hirakawa smiled faintly.
"You wanted to ask what Yoru did today, right?"
"Yes… she refuses to tell me."
"Before that…"
"May I ask you something first?"
"Of course."
"What is Yoru like at home?"
A pause.
Then—
"She's always been a very good child."
"Quiet. Obedient."
"At home, she usually just… quietly does her own things."
"I see."
Hirakawa nodded.
Then asked carefully—
"Does she ever do anything… unusual?"
"Unusual?"
"Yes."
"I'm not quite sure what you mean."
"But I don't think so."
"I understand."
He paused.
Then asked one last question—
"What are your expectations for her?"
"Expectations?"
"Nothing special."
"I just hope she grows up healthy and happy."
"Healthy and happy…"
He repeated softly.
What did "healthy" really mean?
That was a deeper question than it sounded.
"Is something wrong?"
"No."
Then—
He made his decision.
"I'll answer your question now."
"…Why Yoru went to the shrine."
"And why she's been late recently."
Silence.
She was listening.
Carefully.
"Yoru is a very good student."
"At home, and at school."
"The reason she went to the shrine"
"was to be alone."
"To vent."
"Vent?"
She didn't understand.
"She just entered a new grade."
"A new class."
"The pressure has been a bit much."
He spoke calmly.
Without hesitation.
As if it were the truth.
"I see."
"And she didn't tell you"
"Because she didn't want you to worry."
A quiet pause.
"That's the situation."
"I've already talked with her."
"And if this continues to be questioned,"
"it might put more pressure on her."
"So—"
"So you're suggesting"
"I stop asking her about it?"
"Yes."
"That's my recommendation."
"I understand."
"Then I'll listen to you, Hirakawa-sensei."
The call ended shortly after.
Polite goodbyes.
Then silence.
By the time he reached the office,
He took off his mask.
Sealed it in a plastic bag.
Walked in.
A few teachers were inside.
Classes were still in session.
Kuda-sensei wasn't there.
He sat down.
Picked up a pen.
Spun it absently.
Rested his chin in his hand.
And stared out the window.
Blue sky.
White clouds drifting freely.
Unbound.
Carried away by the wind.
His thoughts drifted too.
Amamiya Yoru.
A chuunibyou girl.
A "good child."
A daughter responding—
Quietly—
To her mother's expectations.
Healthy.
Happy.
So she chose
To hide the parts that might worry her mother.
Because—
Would chuunibyou trouble her?
Probably.
"What a gentle tragedy."
The pen slipped from his fingers.
Fell onto the desk.
After a long time,
He picked it up again.
Pulled a sheet of paper closer.
And began to write:
"When a person's inner world reflects into reality, it is inevitably shaped by external forces."
"Others' expectations. Social norms. Countless invisible pressures."
"And so—"
"A person is split into two selves."
Ring.
The bell rang.
Class was over.
He stopped writing.
Folded the paper.
Set it aside.
Then—
He straightened himself.
Prepared his lesson.
And went to teach.
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