The cool evening air brushed against my face as I stepped out of Shizukawa International High.
The faint echo of Akeno-sensei's words from the library still lingered in my mind.
"Maybe I do."
I didn't know why, but that single line kept replaying inside my head like a half-forgotten song.
By the time I reached home, the sun had dipped below the rooftops, painting the sky in streaks of violet and gold.
Our house was small, tucked between a laundry shop and a ramen stall. Dad was still at work, and Mom's voice floated from the kitchen the moment I stepped in.
"Kaito! Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. Did you eat well at school?"
I kicked off my shoes and replied, "Yeah… it was fine."
What I didn't say was that my appetite had been strangely absent all day.
I headed upstairs to my room a modest space with a desk, a shelf stacked with manga, and the faint hum of the city outside the window.
Shizukawa already felt… different.
Not because of the students or the rules.
Because of her.
Later that night, as I scrolled through my messages, a small ping echoed from my phone.
An unknown number.
Don't forget to bring your application forms tomorrow. – Akeno"
It was normal. Completely normal.
Still, my chest tightened a little seeing her name on my screen.
I typed a polite reply.
Before I could set my phone down, another message appeared:
"Also… how's your neighborhood? Hope you're adjusting well."
I hesitated before typing:
It's fine. Noisy at night, but I like it."
A short pause, then her reply came:
Noisy isn't always bad."
I wanted to ask what she meant — but I didn't.
The next day – Late Evening
Classes ended, and for the first time, I saw Akeno-sensei outside the school gates.
No professional skirt and blouse just a beige cardigan over a dark dress.
It made her look… softer.
She was carrying grocery bags. Without thinking, I stepped forward.
"Let me help you with those."
She looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "Thank you, Renjiro-kun."
We walked through narrow streets lined with vending machines and small shops. She lived just a few blocks from the station, in an apartment building with ivy creeping along the side.
Inside, her place was neat but not overly strict bookshelves, a small potted plant by the window, and the faint scent of green tea in the air.
"You can put the bags on the counter," she said, setting down her keys.
As I did, my eyes caught a framed photo a younger Akeno, standing beside a man whose face was half hidden in shadow.
Before I could ask, she turned with a soft smile.
"Tea?"
I nodded, though my mind stayed on that photo.
Here, in her apartment, she wasn't Sensei.
She was just… Akeno.
And I wasn't sure which version of her was more dangerous.