Yukio quietly listened to Chabashira's words. From every line, he could clearly catch the storm of emotions whirling in her heart.
Through what she said, he could see her inner anxiety, confusion, regret, and helplessness.
She regretted neglecting the education of the previous two Class D cohorts; she felt lost because she didn't know how to find them now, or how to compensate them with whatever resources she could.
Ever since the day Yukio pointed out this problem, her heart had been stewing in that realization—like a frog in warm water, not granted a clean, sharp pain, but subjected to slow, drawn-out torment.
From this self-dissection, Yukio also got a more concrete, in-depth understanding of what kind of person Chabashira really was.
Chabashira was someone who took her own responsibility extremely, extremely seriously—almost to an extreme. Normally she might come off as sharp and capable, always able to coolly handle things.
But the moment it involved something she saw as her responsibility, she would become absurdly stubborn, obsessed to the point of absurdity, to the extent that she'd ignore everything else and end up wrecking the very matter she had taken upon herself.
Ten years ago, when her class lost its chance to rise to Class A, she took it as her fault and carved it into her soul as her responsibility. She clung to that for ten whole years without letting go—how many people could stay that fixated for that long?
And because of that "Class D must rise to A" obsession, she ignored the two Class D cohorts that came after.
Then, because she'd neglected those two Classes D, she now saw that neglect as a new responsibility—and that was what tormented her so bitterly.
It was probably this extreme fixation on responsibility that had led ANHS to judge the Chabashira of ten years ago as fit to be sorted into Class D in the first place.
Right now, she desperately needed an exit—a way to escape that pot of slowly heating water.
And that path, at this moment, only Yukio could offer.
"So, Chabashira-sensei," he asked softly, "have you decided? Which is more important to you—your original obsession of raising Class D to Class A… or making amends to the previous two Class Ds?"
Chabashira's pupils suddenly widened. This was the last question she wanted to face. It sounded like he was holding a balance scale out in front of her, asking which side weighed more.
But she didn't want to weigh them at all—because both sides, to her, were responsibilities she could not run from.
The only real difference between the two pans of the scale… was time. On the left was a responsibility from ten years ago. On the right, responsibilities from six and three years ago.
If she said the responsibility from ten years ago wasn't important, then why had she held onto it for a decade? Why had she spent those ten irreplaceable years of her life on it? That would basically be denying the meaning of her own existence up to now. Of course she couldn't abandon that first responsibility.
If she said the two Class Ds after that weren't important… she couldn't even fool herself. Even if she'd returned to ANHS to teach purely for the sake of that "rise to A" obsession…
Once she chose this profession, she had an obligation to respect it—and to respect the students she took on. Yet back then, she'd been so consumed by "Class A" that she'd completely ignored that obligation, practically abandoning the two cohorts that came after.
Only when Yukio woke her up did she finally realize how grave a mistake she'd made—and firmly decide that she wanted to atone.
There was no way for her to abandon either side, so all she could do was lower her voice, rough and weary, even as her amber eyes burned with clarity.
"They… they're both important."
"Then it's simple." Yukio saw that she had finally made her position clear. This flower, tempered by years of wind and frost, was finally ready to bear fruit.
And now he was genuinely curious—what kind of taste would that fruit have?
"As far as making amends to the previous two Class Ds goes," he said, "that's something I can take care of easily."
"!" Chabashira's head snapped up. She stared straight at him, the cool, icy mask on her face melting away, replaced by naked astonishment. "Really?"
"I've got no reason to lie to you, Chabashira-sensei." Yukio leaned back, perfectly relaxed as he studied her. "I know some people outside—very capable people.
"Tracking down the previous two Class Ds and giving them a bit of money as compensation isn't that hard. If you don't trust it, once we find them, I can give you some of their contact info and you can confirm it yourself."
"In short—it won't be fake."
A wave of excitement surged through Chabashira. She almost blurted out a plea for his help, but just as the words reached her lips, they stuck.
No matter how seriously she took responsibility or how badly she wanted to atone, she wasn't so far gone that she'd believe Yukio would compassionately do all this for free.
"Th-then… you… you must have some condition, right?"
Compared to her earlier coolness and husky calm, her voice now carried a faint, nervous tremor.
Yukio smiled like a big-shot mob boss about to say, "Ma'am, you wouldn't want your husband to lose his job, would you?"
"Back then," he reminded her, "you planned to trade me whatever it took to get seven hundred million private points out of me. So if I'm going to help you make amends to those two Class Ds… the price has to be the same."
"After all, I amassed that many private points for my own specific plans. There's no way I'm going to blow them in big chunks like that—much less burn seven hundred million in one go."
"In short, if that's what you want, we can strike a deal for compensating the previous two Class Ds. Then, for the rest of your life, you can keep chasing your rise-to-A obsession at your own pace."
"Who knows? Maybe the next Class D you take on will be the one with the talent and potential to make it."
"If you don't want that, then just treat this as idle chatter."
With that, Yukio drained the last sip of his coffee and got ready to leave.
"…W-wait." Realizing he was about to walk off, Chabashira quickly called out. She tried not to show any emotion, but the way she clenched her teeth—so hard her cheeks puffed slightly—completely betrayed the turmoil inside.
Her mind was racing through the pros and cons. Per Yukio's terms, there was no way he'd ever trade away seven hundred million points. In other words, the current Class D under Matsushita had no chance of buying a full-class transfer with private points.
Yukio had also made it perfectly clear: if she wanted Class D to rise to A, she'd have to wait for the next batch. At the very least, Matsushita's Class D would stand no chance in a straight fight against his class. No matter how unwilling she was, she had to admit that.
The gap was simply too great. Yukio's class was already more than two thousand class points ahead of them.
The only thing she could realistically trade for… was atonement for the previous two Class Ds. And to her, that mattered just as much—arguably more. The sooner she agreed, the more she'd be able to do.
If she waited until some future Class D finally rose to A and only then tried to make amends… by then, the students from those previous cohorts would be in their thirties or forties. Their lives would already be set in stone. What would she be "making up" at that point?
In the end… hadn't she already decided? As long as she could correct her mistake—as long as she could repair that colossal burden of responsibility—then that thing… what was there that she couldn't trade?
That was just who she was. For the sake of her obsession, she could throw away anything.
"I… I accept!"
....
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