Ever since returning from the wind ensemble yesterday, Hirakawa Tetsubumi had been thinking about what he could actually do.
Telling them "Hirakawa Tetsubumi does not agree with your proposal" sounded imposing—at least in his own mind—but in reality, it was probably about as effective as Suzuki-sensei's barely audible voice.
Things would proceed the same way regardless. A mere statement like that wouldn't stop anything.
So, he needed a real, workable solution.
"But what exactly is that solution?"
Storm into the principal's office, point at his nose, and say:
"Principal, you wouldn't want the media to find out the school is suppressing a student, right?"
Would that work?
Well… even if it sounded a bit ridiculous, if it were actually effective, Hirakawa might really consider doing it.
Unfortunately, it wouldn't work at all. After all, the principal was merely an accomplice.
And even if he did that, the school could easily justify everything as a "family matter":
"The school carefully considered the parent's opinions and suggestions before determining that Tsutsuhara is not suitable to remain in the club."
A perfectly reasonable excuse—because at its core, it really was a family conflict. Just… a rather special one.
So ultimately, everything still came back to Tsutsuhara's mother. If he couldn't deal with her, nothing would change.
But…
"Dealing with her" sounded simple. In reality, he couldn't even meet her. Phone calls were always handled by her assistant.
It almost seemed like a dead end.
Of course, it wasn't.
Hirakawa didn't believe he was completely out of options. It was just… risky.
"Kuda-sensei."
Sitting in the office, having made up his mind, Hirakawa turned to Kuda Mayuki.
She looked up from grading papers.
"Hm? What's wrong, Hirakawa-sensei?"
"Thank you for taking care of me all this time."
He spoke sincerely.
"Huh?"
The sudden shift in tone clearly caught her off guard.
But Hirakawa said nothing more—just smiled gently.
Saying too much would make it sound like a farewell.
This was enough.
Left confused, Kuda could only return to grading, probably thinking something like:
What is he talking about?
Is he going to make me fetch water again?
After club activities that afternoon, Hirakawa waited outside the wind ensemble room until most students had left.
As expected, Tsutsuhara Shiori remained behind, as if by unspoken agreement.
"Hirakawa-sensei, you have something to say to me, right?"
"Correct. Unfortunately, there's no reward for guessing right."
"That's such an old cliché."
"Is it?"
He'd actually been roasted.
Walking down the hallway, Hirakawa sighed helplessly.
"Let's talk while we walk."
"Alright."
The two of them walked together as the evening sun gradually sank below the horizon. Hirakawa walked ahead, while Tsutsuhara followed half a step behind.
"Tsutsuhara."
After a moment of silence, he finally spoke.
"Yes."
"I want to ask you something. Is your mother at home right now?"
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"If it's a bit later, she should be home."
"So if I visit now, I can meet her?"
"Hirakawa-sensei."
"Hm?"
"If you're planning to assassinate my mother with your… rather frail physique, you'll be pinned to the ground by bodyguards before you even get close."
"?"
What was she even talking about?
Hirakawa stopped and turned around, seeing her deep in thought.
"So, before taking action, please think it through carefully."
"No, no matter what, I wouldn't do something like that, right?!"
"You wouldn't? Just now, your presence made me think you might."
"You're joking, right?"
"Mm."
The way she said it so seriously made him almost believe her.
At a loss for words, Hirakawa turned back and kept walking.
"It's just a home visit."
"A home visit… I see. So it seems you couldn't get in touch with my mother."
"Then I'll just skip the appointment."
"Is that really okay?"
"It'll do."
He sounded completely unconcerned.
With no more topics, they walked down the building, changed shoes, and headed toward the school gate.
The evening sun cast long shadows across the ground. Students passed by—some strolling, some chatting noisily on their way home.
Their shadows stretched and overlapped.
The sports field was quiet, scattered with faint shouts.
Their footsteps blended into the wind.
Then, from behind—
"Hirakawa-sensei."
"What is it?"
"If you do this… you might get fired, right?"
The sudden question made him pause for a moment before smiling.
"It's just a home visit. Why would I get fired? You're overthinking it."
Even after he said that, Tsutsuhara continued:
"If they say something like 'unauthorized harassment of a student's parent,' then not only would you be dismissed, but with that kind of stain on your record… it'd be hard to find another job, wouldn't it?"
Hirakawa fell silent.
So she saw right through him.
She wasn't wrong. From the principal's perspective, it was obvious.
Failing to handle the chairman's issue properly—and then recklessly going to confront her at home?
And he'd already been warned to "focus on his duties."
That kind of behavior would definitely be seen as insubordination.
If he failed to persuade her mother today, Tsutsuhara's words might very well come true.
"Sensei, you don't have to do this."
"Why not?"
"You should think about the consequences before you act."
That line sounded familiar.
Hirakawa glanced back and caught a fleeting look of concern in her eyes before she quickly looked away.
So she had already seen through him back in the hallway.
That "joke" earlier had been her way of warning him not to act recklessly.
This student was a little too sharp.
And not very honest, either.
"I've already considered the consequences," Hirakawa said calmly.
"To stay indifferent when something unfair is happening is, in itself, a form of complicity. As a teacher, I can't just watch my student go through this."
"And I already promised you—if your voice can't reach them, I'll convey it for you. A promise is something that should be kept."
"As for risks and consequences… there's a saying in the Analects: 'Knowing something cannot be done, yet doing it anyway.' You'll learn it in literature class. Besides, I don't think this is impossible."
"So, Tsutsuhara… don't worry."
By the time the last traces of sunlight faded from the horizon, the two of them had reached the school gate.