Location: Beika City, Tokyo — Teitan Elementary School, Class 1-B.
A teacher's voice reverberated across the classroom, echoing sharply as the students hurried to their seats, the lesson about to commence.
The instructor was a newly assigned faculty member of Teitan Elementary—Sumiko Kobayashi, the homeroom teacher of Class 1-B.
She possessed short, bluish-black hair, neatly cut, with straight sideburns and loose strands delicately framing her face. Her dark eyes carried a firm, unyielding gaze. The most defining feature of her appearance was a pair of square-framed glasses, resting precisely on her nose, lending her an unmistakably stern and intimidating presence in the eyes of her students.
"Settle down, children!" Kobayashi-sensei shouted, her voice sharp and commanding.
The children flinched as the old hag teacher's voice rang loudly throughout the room, startling them. Panic flickered across their faces, and without hesitation, they quickly dropped into their chairs, scrambling to compose themselves.
Kobayashi-sensei observed the class as they finally quieted down. Letting out a small cough, she straightened her posture before speaking once more.
"Now, I have an announcement!"
"Announcement!!" the children echoed in unison.
And from the middle row of the classroom, there sat a particularly nosy group of children who stood out the most, quietly murmuring among themselves, whispering and exchanging their own private speculations.
There was one big, chubby boy, one thin, scrawny kid, one lively and cheerful girl, and another boy wearing glasses who appeared bored, utterly uninterested in whatever announcement was about to be made.
The chubby boy leaned forward slightly and muttered, "Hey, what do you think the announcement is?"
The skinny kid shrugged and replied, "Maybe Kobayashi-sensei is finally retiring already."
The cheerful girl blinked in surprise. "What? Why would she?"
The four-eyed glasses boy listened closely, silent, his gaze thoughtful as he observed the situation. One thing was certain in his mind—Kobayashi-sensei wouldn't retire. Something else was going on.
Before they could continue their hushed conversation, Kobayashi-sensei's voice rang out again, cutting through the air.
"Now, children, listen. Today, we are having a transfer student, and I expect all of you to treat him well. Do you understand?"
"Transfer student?" the children echoed in bewilderment.
Their eyes widened at the announcement, curiosity igniting instantly as speculation and expectations rapidly formed within their young minds.
Kobayashi-sensei then walked toward the classroom door. Her hand reached for the knob, fingers curling around it as she slowly slid the door open. Her gaze lowered slightly—and there she saw the new student.
The boy stood there, dressed entirely in black. A black cap rested low over his head, paired with a black jacket and black pants. Even his shoes—black sports shoes—matched the rest of his attire. Slung over his shoulder was a black bag, and in his right hand, he held a black flask. His hands were covered with black gloves, and a black face mask concealed his features, leaving nothing visible.
"Come in," Kobayashi-sensei said, her voice carrying a tone that was both gentle and strict at the same time.
Inside the classroom, all eyes were fixed on the doorway. The children stared as the strange boy stepped in, his appearance immediately unsettling. Everything about him was black—his cap, his clothes, his shoes, his bag, even the flask. Not a single part of him broke the monochrome.
And more than that—his face remained hidden. The cap shadowed his eyes, while the mask covered the rest. No expression could be seen.
Watching him enter like that stirred an uneasy feeling among the children, a subtle tension in the air that made them instinctively hesitate, as if something about him warned them not to approach.
One particular child stared far more intensely than the rest—the boy with the glasses.
His eyes widened in shock the moment the transfer student stepped inside.
Dressed entirely in black… just like them.
Like the two men in black from that day—the ones who forced a drug into his mouth… the ones responsible for turning him into a child.
Now, another mystery stood before him.
This strange boy… completely cloaked in black… it felt like a sign.
A warning.
Or perhaps proof.
The glasses boy's mind raced as he tried to connect the fragments forming in his thoughts, piecing together possibilities. His gaze remained locked onto the new student, sharp and unblinking, as the boy now stood at the center of the classroom.
The rest of the children fell silent, swallowing nervously as they stared at the transfer student.
Kobayashi-sensei slid the door shut and walked toward the boy. Turning to the class, she spoke firmly, "Listen up—this is your new transfer student, and you must treat him well. Do you understand?" Her voice rose sharply at the end.
The children simply nodded, their eyes fixed on the new kid, who had yet to say a single word.
"Alright…" Kobayashi-sensei crouched down to his level, her gaze softening slightly. "Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" she asked, addressing the silent boy.
Then, a hoarse, fragile voice broke through the stillness of the room.
"Pleasure to meet every one of you… The name Sherlock Leanardo Napoleon Suzuki… was given to me."
It was the voice of a sickly child—raspy, strained, as if every word took effort. His Japanese was uneven, laced with a strange, foreign accent that made it clear he wasn't fluent at all. Yet when he spoke his name, the awkwardness disappeared, flowing more naturally—except for the last part, Suzuki, which stood distinctly Japanese.
The children barely processed the length or peculiarity of his name. Their attention lingered on his weak, almost dying voice. There was no doubt in their minds—this kid was sick, or at least something was seriously wrong with him. To them, he resembled something out of the movies or TV shows they had seen before—a zombie, or a fading, fragile character barely clinging to life.
But unlike the others, the four-eyed glasses boy grew even more confused.
He had already sensed something off from the moment the boy entered—the all-black clothing, the eerie presence. But hearing that name only deepened the mystery. Those weren't random names. Each one carried weight, recognition, meaning. For a child to bear such names… it was far too unusual.
And then there was Suzuki.
A Japanese surname.
His thoughts spiraled. Perhaps the boy was half-Japanese, half-foreign. Or maybe he had grown up overseas. Either way, nothing about him made sense. The glasses boy sank deeper into thought, his mind racing as he tried to piece together this strange puzzle now standing before him.
Kobayashi-sensei, having listened to the introduction, smiled faintly as she straightened up. Her eyes scanned the classroom, searching for an available seat. They soon settled on an empty desk beside a cheerful-looking girl who had been staring intently at the new student.
Looking back down at the boy, she said, "Suzuki-kun, you may sit next to Yoshida-kun."
She gestured toward the empty chair beside the girl—Ayumi Yoshida, a child with short brown hair, blue eyes, and a simple hairband resting neatly atop her head.
The boy gave a slight nod and began walking toward the indicated seat.
As he moved, the children's eyes followed him.
His pace was slow—almost unnaturally so—like a sluggish crawl, each step deliberate, heavy, as though even walking demanded effort. He passed by desks until he reached the spot beside the cheerful girl. Standing in front of the table, he carefully placed his black flask down, followed by his black shoulder bag.
Then, using both hands, he pulled the chair back and quietly sat down.
He remained as he was—cap still low over his face, mask still covering his features—his gaze directed forward toward Kobayashi-sensei, who had already resumed the lesson. Yet, for some reason, he seemed completely unaware of the subtle glances cast his way by the other children.
Ayumi, seated beside him, didn't speak. For reasons she couldn't quite understand, she hesitated—whether out of fear, unease, or something else entirely.
The rest of the class felt it too.
And just like that, a strange, unsettling new student became entangled in their lives in the most unexpected way.
Unaware.
Unbothered.
As if none of it mattered to him at all.
Yet, whether he realized it or not, he had already stepped into something far greater—something waiting to unfold.
AM N. NOT.(っ－＿－)っ♤♤DRAFT♤♤