The door to Class 1A of Glaxina School creaked open slowly, the sound soft and measured. Light from outside slipped in, revealing the tall silhouette of a man.
The steady click of leather shoes echoed along the corridor floor. Kaito, dressed in a pristine old navy-blue blazer without a single crease, a neatly hung brown tie across his chest, and an identification card dangling from his neck, stepped into the classroom.
Silence fell instantly. Every pair of eyes fixed on him.
Then—
"AAAAH! A FLYING TEACHER!!!"
"Whoa—he's so tall! Like the male lead in a romance anime!"
"Hah! His face is like... like a mafia boss but nerdy!"
"Call him Onii-sama!!"
Kaito simply stood at the front of the class, expression flat.
Inwardly:
"...What was that just now? They are human, right? Or did I just walk into a comedy broadcast studio?"
At the far back left, a bespectacled boy stood on his chair with his hand raised high. "Teacher, do you have social media? We need to follow you for extra credit!!"
The class erupted in giggles.
Kaito exhaled slowly, then spoke in a calm but firm tone.
"Alright, everyone, take your seats. I am neither a comedian nor a celebrity."
A girl by the window instantly blurted out,
"But Teacher, your face looks like some retired old-time celebrity who became a teacher after a tragic life story!"
"...My life isn't that tragic," Kaito muttered flatly, writing on the board:
Lesson: Biology – Interactions and Reproduction of Living Creatures.
"So, today we will—"
The entire class shouted in unison:
"YAAAAAAY BIOLOGICAL RELATIOOOOONS!!!"
Kaito froze, slowly putting the marker down.
"...Clarify, please. Do you mean 'biological relations' in the academic sense, or in the absurd sense?"
A boy replied dramatically,
"Of course, Teacher! We want to know how biological relations work between two different species! Like... a human and a slime monster!"
Kaito blinked twice.
"I must stay calm... I am a commander—no, a teacher. Facing a battlefield is easier than facing this..."
A girl raised her hand,
"Teacher, can genes be inherited through a love letter?"
Another student added,
"If we share the same DNA, can we be family without a marriage certificate?"
"I'M TRANSFERRING SCHOOLS IF THIS KEEPS UP!!" yelled the boy in the front row, laughing hysterically.
Kaito finally sat down in the teacher's chair, covering his face with the textbook.
"...Governor Zaid must have set this up as a mental endurance test. Dear God, why wasn't I just deployed to the front lines instead..."
After 45 minutes of absurd questions, followed by 10 minutes of drawing cells with emoji faces, the school bell finally rang for recess.
The students poured out of the classroom like a flock of birds freed from a cage.
Kaito remained seated outside in the hallway. His eyes were weary, his shirt rumpled from being tugged by students, his tie skewed slightly to the left.
He gazed at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.
"At thirteen, I led troops in the middle of a war... devising strategies, managing supplies, making life-and-death decisions. But... no one ever taught me how to handle children with theories of love mixed with absurd biology."
Footsteps approached. Kaito turned.
A girl with neatly kept black-violet hair, eyes of two distinct shades—one violet, the other purple—looked at him. Her gaze felt oddly familiar. Like Alke's.
She wore a white uniform under a deep-purple blazer and hugged a thin laptop to her chest.
"Flying Teacher?" she greeted softly.
Kaito gave a small nod. "Yes. Can I help you?"
She sat beside him calmly, crossing her legs with the poise of someone accustomed to the adult world.
"I'm Aklian. Class 1A. Sorry my classmates were... loud earlier."
Kaito smiled faintly. "'Loud' is an understatement. More like a fleet of submarines with malfunctioning controls."
Aklian chuckled quietly. "They like you. It's rare to have a human teacher here."
Kaito studied her. "Your eyes... remind me of someone I know."
"Oh? Alke?" She turned to him with a neutral expression, her smile faint.
Kaito paused.
"...You know her?"
"Briefly. I'm not a relative, but... I have plenty of data on her." She hugged her laptop tighter.
Then, in a quiet tone, she asked, "Teacher... may I borrow your phone for a moment?"
Kaito frowned slightly.
"...For what?"
"To check something. There's an old school system file that can only be accessed through a Flying Teacher's network device."
Kaito shook his head slowly. "Sorry. I've just found a suspicious file myself. And I don't yet know who I can trust."
Aklian's faint smile lingered as she stood. "Huh. The previous teacher said the same thing."
Kaito looked at her intently.
But she was already walking away, her steps unhurried, leaving him alone with his reflection in the glass window.
The wind outside blew gently. The sky was tinged with dusk, and the sounds of other students faded into the distance.
---
The sky over Akarius was beginning to turn orange. Wisps of cloud drifted lazily between towering high-rises. The sun hung low on the western horizon, casting warm light across the city's sidewalks. Amid the building traffic, car horns and hurried footsteps blended into the familiar symphony of urban life.
Kaito walked slowly along the sunlit pavement. His old navy-blue blazer was still neat, though the collar was slightly askew. In his hand, his Flying Teacher ID card swung lightly, catching the sun in fleeting flashes across its plastic surface.
"Finally... I can breathe. After hours in that classroom from hell. A biology lesson that should have been scientific... turned into a group fanfiction session instead."
His destination was clear: the Amiratul Hukm Tower—the administrative headquarters where Governor Zaid usually worked. A place often used as a resting hub for Flying Teachers, equipped with a private lounge, access to the school database, and hot coffee ordered via a wall-mounted tablet.
However...
As Kaito passed a narrow alley hidden between two old buildings, a sound made him halt.
DOOR-DOOR-DOOR-DOOR
Gunfire.
"Gunshots... in an alley? In the middle of the city?"
Kaito turned sharply and, without a second thought, stepped into the alley. The evening light reached only a fraction of the cramped corridor. Damp air and dust greeted him, but his attention fixed instantly on the scene ahead:
Three figures in long black cloaks with white hoodies pulled over their faces. In their hands—Karl Series semi-automatic rifles, rare small-caliber weapons—still smoking from recent fire.
At the far end of the alley, a student in Glaxina uniform lay sprawled on the ground. His grey cap had fallen to the side, his uniform slightly torn, his body limp and unmoving.
One of the attackers turned toward Kaito.
Kaito showed no sign of fear. Instead, he asked, his voice flat yet commanding,
"Why were you shooting at him?"
They gave no answer. Without warning, the three bolted down a narrow side path at the end of the alley.
"—hey!"
Kaito sprinted a few steps after them, but the winding, branching passage made pursuit impossible.
He stopped, breathing hard, his eyes fixed on the empty space ahead.
"...Tch. They got away."
Turning back, he quickly knelt beside the unconscious student.
"Hey. Can you hear me?" Kaito tapped the boy's cheek gently.
No response. But there was still breathing—faint, yet steady.
Assessing the situation, Kaito hoisted the boy onto his back.
"Alright. I'll get you somewhere safe."
His steps were brisk but steady. The orange of sunset was slowly giving way to the glow of streetlights, flickering on automatically.
Midway, his phone vibrated—a notification from the Governor's system.
Kaito ignored it for the moment. His face was set, his thoughts divided.
"The governor's tower... maybe too formal for this. Too many protocols. Too much red tape."
He exhaled sharply. An idea formed.
"...Better to take him to Mag's place."
Changing his route, he headed in a new direction.
The sky over Akarius dimmed toward grey. The city was slipping into night. The air cooled, but Kaito's shoulders stayed firm beneath the weight of an unfamiliar life—just as before, when at thirteen he had carried comrades one by one from the battlefield.
A flash of memory surfaced: a younger Kaito in an oversized military uniform, carrying a bloodied boy on his back while shouting orders to his troops.
"...Not much has changed. Back then it was soldiers. Now... students."
---
Night hung heavy over Glaxina, carrying the scent of damp earth and the song of a rain not yet fallen. A chill wind cut through the layers of Kaito's navy-blue blazer as he stood before a simple modern-Japanese style house.
In his arms, the Glaxina high school student lay limp—white uniform, grey cap barely clinging to his head. Light in weight, but cold to the touch.
Kaito inhaled slowly.
"He's only unconscious... right?"
He lifted his hand to knock, but before he could, the door swung open abruptly—startling him into nearly stepping back.
Mila stood there, silver hair slightly disheveled from hurried movement. Her uniform was still intact, though her orange jacket hung loose and unzipped. Her sharp gaze widened in surprise.
"Eh?! Teacher! What are you doing here this late? Don't tell me... YOU'RE SNEAKING AROUND?!" she half-joked, half-accused.
"If I were sneaking around, I wouldn't be carrying this student..." Kaito replied dryly, shifting the boy's weight slightly.
"I found him collapsed in an alley, badly injured. I suspect he—"
"Zofy."
A deep, steady voice came from behind Mila. Mag stood there, eyes serious, her signature shark tail twitching faintly.
"Bring him inside. Now."
Without further words, Kaito entered, laying Zofy's body onto the brown sofa in the warmly lit living room. The air smelled faintly of tea and cinnamon, and neatly mounted weapon racks lined the walls.
Mag knelt to check Zofy's pulse. Mila stood frozen behind her, fists clenched before her chest.
"Teacher, start from the beginning," Mag said without looking up.
Kaito recounted everything—the narrow alley, the cloaked figures, the gunfire, the sudden silence.
After several minutes, Mag let out a long sigh, lowering her gaze.
"He... is already dead."
"WHAT?!" Mila and Kaito exclaimed together.
Kaito: "B-but... he was still breathing just now, I heard it—clearly!"
Mag: "Shhh... keep your voice down. My younger siblings are asleep. No shouting."
Kaito looked at Zofy's body, confusion deepening.
"He was breathing... but that breath..."
Mag continued, settling back against the low table.
"His serum has collapsed. He's lost too many nano-ions in his blood. Normally, the protective serum knocks students unconscious before serious injury sets in. But... if they're shot repeatedly, the serum's limit breaks. That's what happened here."
"So... dead while still conscious..." Kaito murmured, gripping Zofy's cooling hand.
Mila crossed her arms. "Who are those people?! Black cloaks? White hoodies? Sounds like a failed cosplay group."
Mag's eyes rested on Mila, calm but cold.
"They're not cosplayers. They are... assassins. Known as the shadow."
"WHAT?!"
"It's not time to speak of them in detail... but trust me, the day will come when their masks fall, and who they truly are will be revealed." Mag's voice had turned icy, shadows of old wounds flickering in her gaze—proof she knew these killers personally.
The wall clock chimed three times. 19:07.
Mag glanced at Mila.
"By the way... you've forgotten something, haven't you? Why are you the president of the Oxoford Student Council?"
Mila froze, eyes widening.
"Oh no... the evening meeting!!"
She bolted for the door. But as she opened it—
Click.
It swung inward to reveal Mita, standing casually with a transparent umbrella. Her Glaxina janitorial uniform was damp from the rain, her cat tail slightly soaked.
"...Mita?!" Mila blurted.
Mita's annoyed gaze swept over her.
"Who else? I came because Mag called me. And since you fainted this afternoon, I'm acting student council president for now. Satisfied?"
Mila turned to Mag, who was still seated.
"I told Mita to pick you up because the forecast said it would rain," Mag said matter-of-factly.
Mila: "...Thanks, Mag." (smiling warmly)
Mag: "Hmph... careless student."
Mita glanced briefly at Kaito, then muttered,
"Oh, right. You two should head back as well. Take... that vehicle."
"That vehicle?" Kaito raised an eyebrow.
Outside sat a garbage truck—the same one Mila had once driven to the Oxiom fortress.
"You've got to be kidding me... again?!" Kaito's expression turned grim.
Mila: "Relax, Teacher. I'm not the one driving this time." (small laugh)
Mag waved lazily.
"Please escort our brave teacher too, Mita~"
Mita: "Huh, troublesome..."
The three of them stepped out into the now-steady drizzle. On the narrow path, rain and the warm glow of streetlamps accompanied their footsteps.
Kaito glanced up at the blackened night sky.
"Zofy... who were they after you? And... why you?"
---
The night sky over Akarius had deepened into a pitch-black expanse, like a velvet curtain swallowing one city light after another. Rain had eased, leaving the streets wet and gleaming, neon signs shimmering on the mirrored asphalt. The night's chill began to creep into the bones.
A garbage truck rolled to a halt before a towering building bearing the inscription:
"MENARA AMIRATUL HUKM – ADMINISTRATIVE HEADQUARTERS OF THE GOVERNOR OF AKARIUS"
With a soft creak, the truck's door opened. Kaito stepped down, his expression flat though his gait carried a faint heaviness.
"Thanks... for going out of your way to drop me off," Kaito said quietly, glancing toward Mita and Mila inside.
"Heh, Teacher, don't be so stiff. Sure, this truck is meant for hauling trash... but tonight, it carried a hero," Mila quipped, her voice light with a chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah. Just don't tell me tomorrow you'll want to drive him to the battlefield in this again," Mita shot back, leaning on the steering wheel with her chin in hand.
Kaito shook his head slowly. "Careful... I might be getting used to this ridiculous ride. Dangerous thought."
After a final wave, the truck rumbled away, leaving Kaito alone at the base of the imposing structure. The stairs leading to the entrance loomed ahead, as if silently asking:
"Are you ready for this quiet night?"
Kaito drew a deep breath and stepped inside. The lobby's atmosphere was hushed but not silent—modern chandeliers swayed faintly above, casting a soft glow over milk-white marble floors.
Waiting for him was Natasya, dressed in a crisp white blouse beneath a pastel-green blazer, her hijab neatly pinned. At seventeen, she looked far too formal for this hour.
"Teacher," she greeted, her tone a blend of seriousness and concern. "Where have you been? The Governor even asked after you."
Kaito raised an eyebrow, forcing a casual smile. "Just got back from a sightseeing trip... complete with gunfire and conspiracy. Very entertaining."
Natasya gave him a long, slow look before sighing. "I can't decide whether to laugh or cry. But if you'd been injured, I'd have to file a three-page report to the Security Administration."
"I'm not hurt. Just... tired," Kaito admitted at last. "Too much happened today for what was supposed to be an ordinary day."
Natasya nodded in understanding. "Then rest now. Your room is already cleaned, and hot water's ready."
"Heh, you're far too considerate." Kaito murmured as he stepped into the lift.
"Because you're like a high schooler yourself," Natasya replied without missing a beat. Kaito let out a faint laugh as the elevator doors closed.
---
6th Floor, Room 12.
Kaito unlocked his workroom door. A serene atmosphere greeted him: warm lighting from a dim lamp, the faint scent of lavender from a diffuser, and a bed that looked like heaven after such a draining day.
Without a word, he moved toward it. His navy blazer still buttoned, brown tie still hanging—he didn't care. He only wanted to lie down.
The moment his back hit the mattress, his body seemed to sink into another dimension.
"Haaahh... finally."
His eyes drifted toward the ceiling. Silence. But his mind was noisy. Fragments of the day flashed past—Glaxina's absurd classroom, the shadow organization, Zofy's lifeless body, the Oxiom battlefield, Mag's ever-relaxed face, Mita's feigned indifference... and, inevitably, Mila.
Life as a Flying Teacher... is never ordinary.
What weighed on him most was that... someone had truly died.
Zofy.
A student—though the serum system was supposed to prevent death—was gone regardless.
"...So the serum has its limits, huh?" Kaito muttered, eyes closing.
A shadow from his past flickered—himself, standing in a war zone, wearing an ill-fitting child's military uniform with a rank far beyond his years. Back then, too, many comrades had been "unsavable."
Not all wounds can be avoided, even in a city as advanced as this one.
Slowly, Kaito's eyes began to close.
But before surrendering fully to sleep, he whispered softly toward the ceiling, as though casting a hope that sounded like a prayer:
"May tomorrow... bring no more battles."
And the night moved on quietly, leaving the 6th floor of Menara Amiratul Hukm in long, unbroken stillness.