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A child seated at the far right of the second row suddenly raised his hand and asked curiously.

Both Principal Takakura and Akira turned their attention toward the boy.

From his spot in the back, Akira glanced over and casually thought that the kid's head looked just like a potato—round and oddly shaped, with a crew cut that didn't help his case.

When Akira looked back at Principal Takakura, he noticed the man's expression turn a little grim, as if sothing inconvenient had just been exposed.

"Shinnosuke, I'm the principal of Futaba Kindergarten. I don't throw bodies into Tokyo Bay," Principal Takakura said with a weary sigh. Apparently, this misunderstanding had haunted him since childhood.

Shinnosuke wasn't satisfied with the answer. He opened his mouth again, preparing to press further. "Then… then—"

"I don't do street gunfights or commit seppuku either," Takakura interrupted, already predicting what was coming. His voice sounded both resigned and embarrassed.

Shinnosuke, seemingly out of ammunition, flopped back onto his desk with a frustrated groan.

Clap, clap, clap... Just then, a sudden round of applause ca from the classroom door, drawing everyone's eyes.

The few children who had been quietly holding back tears imdiately burst into sobs the mont they saw the familiar face of Teacher Yoshinaga standing at the entrance. Their cries startled both her and Principal Takakura.

She hurried toward the nearest crying child to comfort them, while Principal Takakura walked toward another. But strangely, the closer he got, the louder the child wailed.

"Pfft..." Akira couldn't help but laugh. It was obvious to him—most of the kids were crying because of Takakura's face. How could the man not realize that?

Realizing his presence was only making things worse, Takakura slumped back toward the podium. As he walked away, Akira swore the man looked like he was losing color, turning almost... gray.

About ten minutes passed before Teacher Yoshinaga finally managed to soothe the last of the crying children. She returned to the podium, stood beside Takakura, and cleared her throat to refocus everyone's attention.

"Everyone, please look up here. Teacher Yoshinaga is going to introduce soone very special to you."

She gestured toward the man beside her and said with a bright smile, "This is our principal, Mr. Takakura. He really loves playing with children!"

Takakura and Yoshinaga had clearly prepared this performance. Picking up her cue, Takakura nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, I'm the principal of Futaba Kindergarten. I promise I'm not a bad guy—so there's no need to be afraid."

In a valiant attempt to appear friendly, he forced a smile toward the children.

It had the opposite effect.

Akira flinched. The children, newly calm just seconds ago, were instantly scared again. The room filled with crying—this ti even more kids joined in.

Once again, Yoshinaga let out a tired sigh and rubbed her forehead, then stepped off the podium to comfort the children. Akira followed her. The wailing had reached an unbearable level. A few sniffles were tolerable, but this? This was chaos.

After calming down one or two kids, Akira returned to the podium, feeling a little bad for Takakura, who now looked like a ghost of a man.

"Principal Takakura, don't feel too bad. There are still a few kids who aren't scared of your face," Akira said with an awkward grin.

The words, though ant to comfort, cut deep—like a dagger straight to the heart. Before Takakura could respond, a voice piped up from behind Akira.

"Yeah, boss. We can just secretly throw them into Tokyo Bay when no one's looking," said Shinnosuke, walking up and patting Takakura's leg like an underboss consoling his leader.

His voice wasn't loud, but the silence it brought was imdiate. Every child in the Sunflower Class stopped crying and stared at the three figures standing on the podium.

Takakura visibly straightened. Maybe he didn't need a child to comfort him, but it did remind him—this happened every year. Still hurt, though.

Teacher Yoshinaga soon returned, wiped sweat from her brow, and gently motioned for Akira and Shinnosuke to return to their seats. She then kindly suggested Principal Takakura take his leave.

DONG! DONG... DONG...!

Three low chis rang from outside, signaling the start of lunch break.

Akira grabbed his bento box from the cubby under his desk, walked up to the podium, and told Teacher Yoshinaga he had sothing to do. She nodded, and Akira dashed out of the classroom.

A few children had wanted to ask him to eat together, but he was already gone in a blur.

Watching his retreating figure, Teacher Yoshinaga smiled softly. "Akira might act like a little grown-up, but when it cos to Shouko, he's just like any other child."

Akira reached the door of the Sakura Class and was about to knock when he heard Mr. Kamio's voice from inside.

"Alright everyone, it's lunchti. If you need the bathroom, go now. If your lunch needs heating, bring it here."

Akira knocked politely, and a mont later, Ms. Ue called out. Akira opened the door, greeted him, and headed straight to Shouko, who was sitting in the middle of the room.

Shouko lit up when she saw him.

She scooted over to make room and imdiately started talking, her words spilling out with excitent. "Akira, Akira! I made so many new friends today!" Her voice was rushed, slurred from enthusiasm.

"You're amazing, Shouko," Akira said warmly as he ruffled her hair with his free hand.

He sat beside her, placed the bento on the table, and listened carefully as she began recounting her day. Most of the children in the Sakura Class had hearing impairnts, so none of them could hear or follow Shouko's words—but Akira could.

Every ti she shared sothing funny, he responded sincerely. If the story involved her, he made sure to praise her in different ways.

He untied the black cloth around the lunchbox, revealing two bento containers. He opened them, checked which had more at, and placed that one in front of Shouko. Then, he pulled out a small wooden spoon for her and a pair of chopsticks for himself.

Handing her the spoon, he smiled and said gently, "Alright, Shouko. Let's eat and talk, okay?"

"Uh-huh!"

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You are reading A Silent Voice: My First Kiss Was with Nishimiya Shouko Chapter 11: The Potato-Headed Imp on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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