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"Yo, you’re here."

Long, jet-black hair down to her waist, a won’s suit accentuating her curvaceous, stunning figure, yet paired with an ill-fitting white lab coat—Hiratsuka Shizuka, the main Japanese literature teacher, fad combat instructor of Sobu High, and now horoom teacher of Class 2-F, glances at him sideways. Biting a white stick in her mouth, she stands up.

"Co on, to the counseling room."

She speaks briskly, grabs a docunt from the desk, and strides out of the office first. Her movents carry the aura of a warrior heading to battle with sword drawn.

In the office for less than ten seconds, pauses briefly, Yuu then follows her back into the hallway without a word. His gaze fixes on her back, puzzled.

"Just follow , it’s not bad news."

As if her sixth sense kicked in, Hiratsuka speaks without turning. She pinches the white stick between two fingers like a cigarette, tilts her head back, and sighs: "By the way, this is a lollipop. I recently got a stern warning not to smoke on school grounds... Tch, that damn old principal!"

"..." As if used to this, Yuu silently rolls his eyes and calmly replies, "Though I had no intention of asking, I think the principal did the right thing."

Hiratsuka retorts as if it’s only natural: "Yeah, I’m not saying he’s wrong, I just want to curse him out. Got a problem with that?"

"...No, as long as you’re happy."

Yuu quickly gives up arguing and obediently follows behind.

Her long black hair sways as Hiratsuka glances sideways, her lips curling disinterestedly: "You, still as lifeless as ever."

"Just saving energy at school."

"Tch, what are you, an ’80s air conditioner?"

"Sensei, modern Acs scream energy efficiency too. Your era hasn’t caught up."

Whoever started it, bringing up generational differences is like pulling the pin on a woman’s grenade. Hiratsuka instantly raises her fist, glaring fiercely.

"Keep talking, and I’ll punch you!"

But perhaps because she got his joke, her gaze is friendly enough, and her fist rises only to drop quickly.

On the surface, Yuu remains calm as usual, but inwardly, he sighs in relief—this combat-teacher reputation isn’t just talk; this woman really disciplines students with her fists. Yet, since she always keeps it within bounds, she’s never been targeted by the parent-teacher association and is even a popular figure for it.

Rumor has it so students deliberately ss up just to experience the holy judgnt of this beautiful teacher’s fist, with no regrets even if they end up in the infirmary.

Yuu can’t fathom what kind of bizarre preferences lurk in those people’s brains.

As his thoughts drift elsewhere, they arrive at the counseling room. Hiratsuka pulls the door open and enters first.

"Close the door."

Yuu shuts it and sits upright across from her. In the quiet room with just a man and a woman, this single, thirty-sothing female teacher seems more relaxed than him.

Hiratsuka casually crosses her legs, places a form in front of him, and taps the desk with her slender fingers.

"Sign your na there."

"This is too sudden..."

Muttering a soft complaint, Yuu picks up the form and scans it. Thankfully, it’s not so plot where an older woman tries to force a handso high school boy into marriage—after all, he didn’t get hit by a truck and confess his love while fatally wounded. No one’s slapping a marriage certificate in front of him.

"Club mbership Application?"

His eyes sweep over the words, and he looks at Hiratsuka, confused.

"Exactly. I want you to join a club."

Hiratsuka nods, crossing her arms under her chin, her sharp eyes narrowing as if ready to order Unit-01 into action.

"The Service Club, a misleading na, but it’s basically like a volunteer club. Don’t overthink it, just sign there boldly, go forth, and create miracles, young man!"

As if ignoring her fiery speech, Yuu furrows his brow and asks: "Is this club getting disbanded? I can’t play light music or be an idol, Sensei."

"Relax, I’m not asking you to do that... By the way, you didn’t get the I just dropped? That’s a super famous work..."

Hiratsuka brushes the soft hair falling over her eyes with her fingers, sighing with slight disappointnt.

Setting the club application form back down, Yuu looks at her and sighs resignedly.

"Forget why you’re suddenly throwing s in a serious mont... When did you decide I wouldn’t get an EVA ?"

"What did you say?!"

His unexpected counterattack makes Hiratsuka’s eyes widen, slightly shocked.

"For real." Yuu presses the bridge of his nose in disbelief. "It’s you, Sensei, who didn’t notice I was playing a too, right?"

"No way!" As if her pride in her domain was stolen, Hiratsuka panics. She bites her thumbnail, her eyes darting anxiously, racking her brain: "Disbanded club? Light music? Or idol? Could it be related to Glass Mask?"

"That’s way off!" Yuu can’t help but grumble. "Just give up. We’re from different generations—you won’t find a sense of belonging in ."

"Guh... I-I’ll kill you!"

"You got the line wrong!"

"Hahaha, but you got that one, didn’t you? Perverted kid~"

Feeling she’s gained a small victory, Hiratsuka hugs her ample chest, laughing proudly.

But under Yuu’s cold, scornful gaze, her smile slowly fades. Two red spots appear on her fair cheeks, her fist clenches near her mouth, and she clears her throat awkwardly twice.

"L-Let’s get back to the main topic."

"Should’ve done that from the start. s in moderation, Hiratsuka-sensei."

Looking away, Hiratsuka says with a serious expression: "What do kids know? I’m doing this to build rapport between teacher and student."

"Yeah, right..."

Yuu wants to keep grumbling, but as her displeased gaze shifts to his face and her white fist starts clenching, he quickly changes his tune:

"Hiratsuka-sensei, I don’t understand why you want to join this club. You know I work part-ti after school, and I don’t have any special skills worth bragging about."

"Of course. This club doesn’t require you to do much, and the schedule’s flexible... Think of it as a personal perk I’m giving you?"

"Perk?"

Yuu looks confused, waiting for her explanation.

"Answer one question first."

Hiratsuka clears her throat again, her deanor fully serious. Her gaze, firm yet gentle, ets his eyes.

"Tenkuji, you were still working part-ti during sumr break, right?"

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