After checking the photo several times and confirming that Hojou Kyousuke wasn't in it, Hiratsuka Shizuka inexplicably let out a sigh of relief.
She knew there were people born to "make waves."
The kind who would show up late to the opening ceremony, then crash in through the guest entrance and send the principal flying like a flipped turtle.
The kind who, during a marathon, would somehow lead the entire group onto the completely wrong route.
Or the kind who, in math class, would toss out problems so complicated even Goethe couldn't solve them.
"Making waves," in truth, just meant being a walking disaster.
No matter how small the matter, once it involved him, it was like adding a powerful catalyst—things would spiral completely out of control.
And Hojou Kyousuke was exactly that kind of person.
Hiratsuka Shizuka knew this all too well.
So if that brat wasn't here, that meant the situation was still salvageable.
Thinking that, she let out a spirited "heave-ho!" and sprang up from bed with a perfect kip-up.
Thank goodness this was a luxury apartment—if it were a cheap one, she would've cracked her head on the ceiling ages ago.
She hurried out of the bedroom and made for the study, where she kept the student roster and their contact numbers.
She had to stop Kisaki Tetta and the others right away.
This wasn't just mischief anymore—it was public disorder!
They could get arrested by the patrol police.
Sure, they were out racing bikes at midnight and facing down gangsters, but at the end of the day, they were still students.
As their teacher, if something happened, she would be the one held accountable first.
And if Kisaki and his crew really got dragged to the station, those kids wouldn't obediently hand over their parents' numbers.
No, the first thing they'd do would be to throw her under the bus.
She had lived through that scenario far too many times…
As a woman, Hiratsuka Shizuka had countless flaws, to the point she could be called completely unqualified.
But as a teacher, she was someone worthy of respect.
Every student who had ever been under her guidance carried gratitude for her long afterward.
She was a teacher—a teacher who truly embodied what a teacher should be.
There wasn't another teacher in the world more like a teacher than she was.
She noticed the undercurrents in her class, shielded her students from other teachers' anger, listened to their troubles, and comforted them in her own way.
She didn't just care about their grades—she cared about their hearts.
What she wanted to teach was how to face the world with their heads held high.
And that was exactly why she hadn't called Hojou Kyousuke directly.
Some people, upon realizing that Hojou was the ringleader behind Kisaki and the others, would've immediately called him up, yelling:
"What the hell are you thinking? Do you know that's a crime?! Call them back right now and hand me a five-thousand-word reflection by tomorrow!"
Others might've leveraged their personal connections and pressured him:
"I don't care what your reason is—drop this now!"
And maybe, just maybe, given her own relationship with that brat, he would've listened to her… right?
But no! Hiratsuka Shizuka swore it wasn't because she lacked confidence that she hadn't called him.
Absolutely not! Even if she had to throw away her pride, she could always cry to little Miki or Yukino and get them to back her up.
Probably. Maybe…
Argh, forget it! She never planned to ask Hojou for help in the first place.
These were her students, not his.
Making them realize their mistakes was her responsibility as their teacher.
Even if it meant bowing ninety degrees at the police station or getting chewed out by angry parents until her ears rang—it was all part of her job.
Lost in thought, she finally found the contact book.
Her plan was simple: first, call Kisaki Tetta to calm him down and keep things from escalating.
Then she'd rush over herself and put an end to it.
With her dual status, surely both sides would give her face.
In her mind, she was already rehearsing the scene: she would arrive in her red Aston Martin, executing a perfect drift in front of the Yamazakura group's headquarters.
The screech of tires would die down just as she flung open the car door, the hem of her custom-made white coat swaying dramatically as her long legs stepped out into the light.
When all eyes froze under her aura, she'd raise her voice and declare:
"That's enough! This farce ends here!"
Her adorable students would gape in awe at how reliable and cool Hiratsuka-sensei was, willing to face down gangsters to protect them.
And the Yamazakura members themselves would whisper: "As expected of Hiratsuka-sama, the daughter of a yakuza house—even the most reckless punks fear her."
Then, as the mediator, she'd listen to both sides, resolve the issue with a few clever words, and disperse the storm before it caused real damage.
With such a dazzling display of wit and authority, even Hojou Kyousuke's brain-dead fanboys would have no choice but to admit her brilliance.
And then, she could use the opportunity to correct her students' thinking—at the very least, to drill into them that students had no business doing this kind of thing in the middle of the night.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect!
Everything had been considered—from the car to the dramatic entrance, from the opening line to the follow-up negotiation.
It was the flawless showcase of her wisdom and sense of timing.
Magnificent, Hiratsuka Shizuka!
No wonder the school leadership trusted her so much, and her students relied on her wholeheartedly.
And while she was at it, this would also be the perfect chance to show that arrogant brat Hojou just how dazzling an adult could be.
So what if she liked manga and tokusatsu? She'd be watching them at eighty, ninety—that was her secret to staying young!
So what if she was almost XX years old, unmarried, and had failed at XXX arranged meetings?
Did knowing that give him the right to look down on her?!
So what if she liked pairing chocolate with booze?
Yukari did the same thing! And yes, maybe he had seen her XX times, drunk to the point of puking—but did that really make her a "childish little girl"?
Even drunk, a beautiful woman is still a beautiful woman, dammit!
And if her body happened to reflexively punch someone and break their nose—well, that was their problem!
"Uuugh…"
Muttering to herself, she realized why Hojou got along ambiguously with every other friend of hers—except her.
It was because all her glamorous, reliable sides were hidden away, while all her unsightly, embarrassing parts had been laid bare before his eyes.
Who wouldn't be put off by that?
But things were different now. Soon she'd make that cocky brat see—the world wasn't as simple as he thought.
She'd show him exactly how adults handled things.
Thinking that, the yakuza heiress wore a proud, satisfied smile.
Just before dialing Kisaki Tetta's number, she decided to check the group chat for an update.
————————————————————————
[Hanabana Tarou]: "Ohhh!! It's started! It's started! Ever played Nobunaga's Ambition? It's exactly like that!"
[???]: "Nani? Nani? Do they have battering rams? Siege ladders? Muskets?"
[Another voice]: "Idiot, I told you already—they've got delinquent girls in sailor uniforms with machine guns! They just blew the gate open!"
————————————————————————
...
Watching the latest message in the group—"The yakuza heiress is chopping down anyone who climbs the wall into three pieces with her katana!"—Hiratsuka Shizuka felt her soul leave her body.
Wait a second.
Wasn't she supposed to be going there to teach her students?
Since when did that turn into slicing them into three pieces?
What was this, High School DxD: Murder Edition?
No, no, hold on. Weren't they just in a standoff a moment ago?
How did things escalate into an all-out battle in the blink of an eye?
This is exactly the problem with today's youth! So impatient!
Before a real fight, aren't you supposed to trash-talk for a while? Haven't they ever watched how gangs actually brawl?
You don't throw punches until you've emptied your lungs with insults first!
Shizuka groaned and dug her fingers through her hair.
What she didn't know was that the fight wasn't supposed to start this fast.
Originally, both sides were holding back.
But then the Yamazakura group's leader, Doma, suddenly caught a bout of "literary youth syndrome" and tried to move the delinquents with a sad little story.
Unfortunately, his storytelling was too good.
Instead of retreating in guilt, all the single boys in the delinquent crowd got triggered—like someone had jammed a needle of adrenaline straight into them.
So instead of calming the enemy, he had fired them up even more.
In the group chat, Hanabana Tarou had stopped posting photos after realizing one of the delinquents was none other than the infamous "Rampaging Angel."
Instead, he started live-texting the battle, and the whole chat was going wild with excitement.
The more Hiratsuka read, the more hopeless she felt.
Her perfect plan had collapsed before it even started.
Her large black-and-white eyes flicked back and forth as she hesitated for two seconds… and then she dialed that number.
Yes, calling that brat Hojou now meant she'd probably get mocked.
But better to lose face than to let her students get hurt.
Besides, she was going to be his student life advisor for the next three years—and the advisor of his club too.
There would be plenty of opportunities to discipline him later.
For now, she'd let him off the hook.
And really, wasn't she technically helping him too?
If Kisaki Tetta and the others—his underlings—got themselves arrested, surely even Kyousuke would regret it.
Taking a deep breath, Shizuka hit the dial button.
It connected. But no one answered.
Don't tell me that brat's asleep?! His men were raising hell all over Tokyo and he was just snoring away?!
She waited. And waited. Still nothing. Shizuka ground her teeth.
Finally, the line clicked on.
But before she could say a word, the rude little brat's voice came through, spitting out something incredibly disrespectful:
"If it's nothing important, stop harassing me with calls."
'Harassing you?! Like I'd call you for fun!'
'If I had time to waste, I'd be calling Yukari instead!'
'I'm here, breaking my back cleaning up your mess, and this is how you talk to me?!'
What an insufferable brat. Shizuka bit down hard in frustration.
She honestly couldn't understand why Miki or Yukari liked this man.
Grinding her teeth, she reminded herself that of course Kyousuke wasn't like this with them.
With Yukari or Miki, he was definitely more polite, more composed.
Compared to them, she admitted she lacked a bit of "feminine charm"… but still!
Did that mean she deserved to be treated like this?
All she ever did was warn those girls to stay away from a playboy like him!
"Of course it's important. Urgent, in fact!" she snapped back.
For the sake of her beloved students, she decided to swallow her anger.
But swallowing it only made her fume more.
After all, Kisaki and the others were his subordinates.
This was like buying Kyousuke an expensive outfit out of her own pocket, only for him to sneer that it didn't suit him.
"Important? If it's important, then you really shouldn't be calling me."
His voice was as blunt and impolite as ever—so blunt it was out of character.
This didn't sound like the Hojou Kyousuke she knew.
Whatever else could be said about that brat, his manners were impeccable.
He was the kind of guy who could deck you in the face and still compliment you on your good bone structure afterward.
And besides, given how Kyousuke usually handled things at school, tonight's chaos—leading four hundred students to storm across the city—didn't feel like his style at all.
Too flashy. Too reckless.
The yakuza heiress frowned, her instincts telling her to ask what had really happened.
But she held back. Stopping Kisaki Tetta's rampage had to come first.
"I'm still your elder, you know. Show me a little respect," she muttered, though her voice wavered with no real confidence.
After all, he'd seen too many of her less-than-dignified sides.
It was hard to pull rank now.
"Me, disrespectful? You're the one calling a single man at three-thirty in the morning. If anything, you're the one acting suspicious."
"Single? Hojou-kun, hearing you say that as your Japanese teacher fills me with nothing but shame. Clearly, I've failed you as an educator."
"Why can't I call myself single? Do I have to wait until I'm thirty and still unmarried before I can proudly wear that label?"
That did it.
Shizuka's jaw clenched so tight her teeth squeaked.
Why? Why would anyone like this kind of man?
Who just casually stabbed at a lady's most delicate wound like that?!
And what's with bringing up being single all of a sudden?!
She wasn't thirty!
Absolutely not! Who in the world would dare say she was thirty?!
She was clearly 26 years old!
If that brat were in front of her right now, she would've unleashed her ultimate, once-in-a-lifetime punch just to teach him: never, ever lie about a woman's age!
"I'm seriously worried about Yukinoshita. Spending too much time with you, she might lose the ability to hold a proper conversation altogether."
This time, Shizuka wasn't just snapping back—she was genuinely concerned.
Yukino already had a slight tendency to talk without much warmth.
If she spent too much time with Kyousuke, Shizuka feared something terrifying might happen.
At best, she'd end up completely friendless.
At worst… well, someone might just jump her with a pipe in an alley.
"Yukinoshita? You really don't get it. If it's her, she'd be sharper than me. No—let me rephrase that. If you tried calling her right now, she'd hang up instantly.
If you pushed it, she might even call the cops. Compared to her, I'm the picture of mercy."
Shizuka froze, speechless.
This was the first time she had ever heard Kyousuke so openly sharp-tongued.
Sure, she'd known he was eloquent—last year's Bookstore Award ceremony had proven that well enough.
Back then, his words had flowed like a river: logical, persuasive, almost flawless.
But this? This was different.
This wasn't eloquence—it was venom.
Which only made her more certain of one thing: something was definitely wrong with Hojou Kyousuke tonight.
Something big enough to shake even him out of his usual calm.