Kaito finally stopped in front of the door to Class A2. His breath was slightly uneven, but he swallowed hard, bracing himself.
"Well… if there really is something here, I need to see it for myself…" he muttered.
His hand had just touched the doorknob—
CREAAAK.
The door opened from inside. Several members of the Order of Elios walked out, their faces clearly disappointed. Some kept their heads low, others whispered under their breath.
"There's nothing here…"
"Just an ordinary classroom…"
Kaito frowned, puzzled.
"Eh? That's it? You're disappointed already? A minute ago you were running like you were chasing a thief…"
But the Order didn't answer. They simply walked past him, the fiery energy they carried before now completely extinguished.
Kaito snorted softly, then stepped inside.
---
The moment he entered, his eyes widened.
Class A2… was different.
No chalk scribbles on the board, no paper scraps scattered about, even the windows gleamed as if freshly polished. Sunlight streamed through the glass, reflecting off spotless tiled floors.
"This… is the cleanest classroom I've seen in this school," Kaito murmured, half in admiration, half in suspicion.
At the center of the room sat a girl. Dressed all in white, with long silver-white hair and thin spectacles perched on her nose. Her expression was calm—her gaze flat, yet piercing, as if weighing every soul who stepped through the door.
Kaito froze for a moment before speaking.
"What's your name?"
The girl closed the slim book in her hand, answering in a voice even and commanding.
"Lysander. Are you the Flying Teacher?"
Kaito blinked. The question was so blunt, as though she had known his identity long before.
"Uh… yeah, that's me. But… you're a student here, right? Why is this room spotless, like something out of Glaxina?"
Lysander gave the faintest of smiles, barely visible.
"Cleanliness is the mirror of the soul. If other classes are a mess, it means the souls within them are just as chaotic. This classroom… must never be like that."
Kaito raised an eyebrow high, glancing around once more.
"So you're saying only Class A2 has a pure soul? That sounds… a little arrogant."
But when his gaze returned to her, he studied her more closely.
Though she looked like any ordinary high school student, something didn't fit. She wasn't wild like the students of Velstrance, nor formal like those of Primanoel.
That strangeness lay in her normalcy: too neat, too controlled, too… human.
Kaito stepped closer, stopping by Lysander's desk.
"Honestly, I don't know whether to be impressed or suspicious. You look like a normal student… but for some reason, I'm certain you're not."
Lysander exhaled softly, eyes steady. She reached into a slim folder and handed him a worn piece of paper, her expression serious.
"I knew… Teacher would say that."
Kaito frowned but accepted the paper. Reading aloud in a hushed tone, he scanned the text.
Class: 2 High Schools
Condition: Obsessive fixation on war, destruction, and torture—yet highly disciplined.
Skills: Easily forms bonds with peers; prioritizes the needs of those around her.
Personality: Appears normal, polite, even caring. Deeply protective of her comrades—yet beneath it all, sees war as the motto of life.
Role in the Organization: Supreme Commander – strategist of all Crimson Valkyrie operations, balancing mission success with the safety of her members.
The paper trembled faintly in Kaito's hands. His eyes widened, breath caught.
"…Supreme… Commander?" he whispered.
In an instant, memories crashed into his mind.
Flashes of his younger self—standing before a line of soldiers, swallowed in a ceremonial uniform too large for his teenage frame.
His voice then, loud and fervent, now tasted bitter in recollection:
"Everyone, you know our lives exist only for war. There is nothing else!"
THUD! Kaito shut his eyes tight, shaking his head fiercely, forcing the vision away. He returned to the present, staring at Lysander with a mix of shock, caution, and… faint pity.
"It says here you're obsessed with war…" Kaito tapped the paper, his tone firm.
"…but what I see is a polite, tidy student—maybe even the most normal-looking in this whole school. So… which one is real?"
Lysander raised her gaze. A slight smile tugged at her lips, though her eyes were cold.
"That's because I don't want my friends to suffer from my nature. So… I restrain it. I let myself appear normal… for their sake."
Kaito stood silent, the paper trembling in his grip.
His face stiffened, until he let out a short breath—half scoff, half reluctant admiration.
"Hah… so the Supreme Commander obsessed with war… actually cares about sparing the feelings of classmates? That's rich."
Lysander's smile widened, though her demeanor remained calm.
"Caring doesn't mean abandoning war, Teacher. On the contrary—war is my breath. I live to plan, to weigh, to… ensure everything moves forward."
Kaito stared hard at her, eyes narrowing.
"…You speak like someone far older than your age. Not a typical high schooler."
Lysander straightened in her chair, gaze unwavering as it locked with his.
"If war is the only language this world understands, then my task is to be its best translator. Surely the Flying Teacher understands that more than anyone… doesn't he?"
Kaito froze. A bitter smile curved across his face, though his eyes wavered with unease.
"…You… even speak the exact same way I did as a child."
The stillness of Class A2 suddenly shattered with the sound of sobbing.
A small girl rushed in, eyes red with tears. She immediately knelt by Lysander's side.
Lysander turned gently, his cold composure melting into calm reassurance.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, voice steady but warm.
The little girl rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I-I'm… hungry…"
Kaito, still by the door, nearly toppled over.
"…Seriously? I thought this was some war drama or betrayal plot. Turns out it's just hunger?" he muttered, face etched with exasperation.
Yet Lysander showed not the slightest trace of irritation. He merely nodded, his faint smile unwavering.
"You can eat my lunch. It's in my bag, on that desk."
The girl nodded eagerly, hurrying to the desk. She opened his bag, and the scent of homemade bento filled the room.
At that moment, Lysander returned his gaze to Kaito. His tone dropped deeper, as if affirming his true identity.
"The motto of Crimson Valkyrie is… 'From Fire, We Are Reborn.'"
Kaito stood still, his expression conflicted—caught between admiration for Lysander's human side, and unease at the warlike creed woven into every word.
At last, he exhaled, raising his hand.
"Yeah… thank you for the talk, Lysander. I… need to go."
Lysander nodded respectfully, then turned back to the young girl, whose smile brightened as she clutched the lunch in her hands.
Kaito pushed open the classroom door and stepped out. The corridor was silent once again, neon lights flickering with pale glow. He walked slowly, his shoulders heavy.
❝These children… they've been forced to live in a world of fire too soon. And I… I still don't know whether I'm truly their teacher… or just a witness to war's foolish cycle repeating itself.❞