Tsutsuhara Shiori followed behind Hirakawa Tetsubumi the whole time, watching his back, watching him turn slightly to the side, calmly explaining things to her.
Whether it was "I'll never give up music" or "I absolutely won't accept my mother's imposed will," in the end, those were nothing more than her final struggles.
A domineering parent would always force their will onto their child. And her life so far had already proven one thing—
There was no escaping it.
No matter how she struggled, it was useless. Like a butterfly caught in a net—no amount of resistance would change anything.
But this time… was different.
A teacher had reached out to her—someone who said:
"If your voice can't reach them, I'll convey it for you."
"If I've made a promise, then I'll keep it."
She had clearly warned him—if he acted recklessly, he could lose his job.
And yet he still spoke of "knowing it may be impossible, but doing it anyway."
Was he just being stubborn?
Could he really succeed?
She couldn't help but worry. She couldn't believe it would definitely work either.
But…
That last expression of his—"Don't worry, leave everything to me"—carried a strange sense of reliability.
A feeling that made her feel… at ease.
Even if the outcome was still uncertain.
Could it really work?
Would it succeed?
She didn't know. She truly didn't know.
But as the fifteen-year-old girl gazed at his back, the fading light of the sunset reflected in her eyes—
And within it, a faint glow appeared.
A light called hope.
She began to pray.
If it's really possible…
If there truly is hope…
Please…
She kept watching as her teacher walked out through the school gate—
Watching him head toward… some unknown destination.
"Um, sensei?"
Snapping back to her senses, she quickly called out to him.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
He turned around, clearly unaware of anything unusual, asking in confusion.
"The car… is over there."
She pointed.
After standing there in silence for a moment, Hirakawa quietly turned back.
"Oh… there's a car picking you up, huh… I'm just used to going to the train station. Right."
And so, back on track, Hirakawa followed behind Tsutsuhara as they walked toward the car parked at the school gate.
Nothing unexpected happened after that. There was a slight tension—only natural, given that his job was on the line.
Soon, after getting into the car, it began heading toward the Tsutsuhara residence under the driver's control.
"Oh, right."
While in the car, Hirakawa suddenly remembered something and spoke.
"Tsutsuhara, this might be a bit rude to ask…"
"Please, go ahead, sensei."
Choosing his words carefully, he said:
"I've tried contacting your mother before, but it was always her assistant who answered… and I was repeatedly refused."
"So if I show up unannounced like this today… I won't be turned away again, right?"
In simpler terms: Will I be stopped at the door?
If that happened, there'd be nothing he could do.
Faced with the question, Tsutsuhara sighed slightly and explained:
"Sensei, the Tsutsuhara family would never do something so impolite."
"I see… that's good."
Just as he relaxed, she continued, her tone carrying a faint trace of sarcasm:
"After all, my mother has always been very good at maintaining appearances."
Hirakawa couldn't respond to that.
Even if Tsutsuhara herself brought it up, agreeing with a student criticizing their parent wasn't appropriate.
Still… inwardly, he agreed completely.
Thinking about it, she wasn't wrong.
For example—
Claiming to "respect her wishes," while actually trying to pressure her into giving up.
Or having the assistant repeatedly say, "I'll report this to my employer," while issuing warnings through the principal instead of confronting him directly.
Was that what counted as "proper etiquette"?
From this alone, he could already glimpse what kind of person her mother was.
Ah, speaking of that—
"Tsutsuhara, if it's alright… could you tell me what your mother is like?"
Know yourself, know your enemy, and you'll never be defeated.
A principle even Japanese students understand well. As a language teacher, Hirakawa often encountered familiar classical texts—Chinese poetry, ancient prose, philosophers like Sun Tzu…
So of course, Tsutsuhara—well-educated and perceptive—understood this too.
After a long moment of thought, she began:
"When I was in third grade, there was a weekend when I was supposed to attend various extracurricular lessons—etiquette, foreign languages, and so on."
"But that weekend, I suddenly wanted to rest. My mother 'respected' my wishes and agreed."
Hirakawa immediately sensed what was coming next.
"Then?"
"Then…"
No surprise there.
"For the following month, almost all of my free time was taken up."
Amid the steady hum of the car, she continued:
"By 'taken up,' I mean if I said I wanted to rest, she would still agree."
"But after agreeing, she would stay by my side… silently watching me."
"Her gaze always seemed to be asking—"
"Are you done resting?"
"Sensei… can you understand that feeling?"
"Yeah."
For a third-grade child, there was nothing more suffocating than having their mother constantly watching them like that.
"It felt like being monitored. Resting became more unbearable than studying."
"So that month… I 'voluntarily' filled my schedule with lessons."
The emphasis she placed on the word "voluntarily" made Hirakawa finally understand
What "Tsutsuhara-style initiative" truly meant.
So this was her mother.
Somehow… this was going to be difficult.
With that lingering concern, the car finally arrived at its destination—
Tsutsuhara Shiori's home.