Sitting in the staff room, Sakura looked nothing like the average student dragged in for a meeting.
Instead, a faintly bashful air had her toying with her own fingers.
“Would you like something to drink?
Tea, perhaps?” The young homeroom teacher smiled at her.
Sakura’s slim legs swung lightly back and forth, sheathed in soft black tights, the delicate ankles barely a hand’s-width round.
Her lashes fluttered, gaze fixed on the wood-grain floor; she gave a small, hesitant nod.
The homeroom teacher was a striking, composed beauty.
Her ink-black hair fell to the waist, her fringe trimmed neatly to reveal a pair of clear, jade-bright eyes.
The serene smile on her face made her look every inch the well-bred lady—Kokutou Azaka, as a matter of fact, was a top graduate of the famous local women’s school, Reien Girls’ Academy.
She was, also, one of Asagami Fujino’s small handful of close friends—and a classmate from the same year.
By rights, Sakura should have been sent to Reien herself.
But Fujino couldn’t bear to part with her, couldn’t bear to send her away to that strict, closed-off boarding school.
“Ko—Kokutou-sensei,” Sakura mumbled, eyes fixed on the tip of Azaka’s shoes.
Even Fujino didn’t know that Sakura had, for as long as she could remember, gone out of her way to avoid being alone with onee-san’s friend.
Only Azaka herself sensed it, faintly—Sakura’s quiet recoil from her.
And the more Sakura recoiled, the more Azaka wanted to transgress.
Azaka was a person who fell in love with the forbidden.
Which was why she had moved straight back to Tokyo and taken over the homeroom for Sakura’s class.
“Hush.
There’s no one else here.
Will Sakura still be so formal with me?” Azaka set the steeped tea down beside Sakura’s hand.
“Azaka-nee,” Sakura said, lifting her gaze—and met Azaka’s eyes head-on.
She bit her lip.
Those pale-blue eyes of Azaka’s were too like, far too like, the eyes of someone in Sakura’s memory.
It was hard to take.
Every time she looked at them too long, an old name buried under a torn-open wound surfaced again in her chest—Tohsaka.
The family that had given her up.
The family that had adopted her out to the Asagami as a bargaining chip.
“Good girl.” Smiling lightly, Azaka reached out and stroked her head.
Sakura cradled the teacup in both hands, sipping in tiny mouthfuls, and asked quietly, “Azaka-nee… was there something you wanted from me?”
Azaka rubbed at her brow.
“Yumizuka Satsuki hasn’t been in class for two days now.”
At that name, Sakura’s expression sharpened.
“I called her yesterday and no one picked up.” Azaka settled into the swivel chair beside her, draping her long, sleek black-tighted legs across each other in an effortless, eye-catching line.
“When I called at noon today, Yumizuka-san said she’d be back tomorrow.”
Sakura nodded—Satsuki had told her the same thing.
“But I’m still not entirely at ease.
And of all the people in our class, the one who lives close to Yumizuka and is also on good terms with her—that leaves only Sakura.” Azaka folded her hands and gave Sakura a smile. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“So…” Sakura ventured.
“I was hoping Sakura would go check in for me.” Azaka winked.
“If I go to look in on her, that child will only end up burying things deeper inside.”
“But Sakura’s different.
Sakura’s so cute.
I’m sure you’ll be able to coax the truth out of any girl.”
“C—cute?
I’m not…” Sakura ducked her head, lips pressed lightly together.
In the end, though, she agreed.
Going to check on Yumizuka had been part of her own plan anyway.
She said goodbye to Azaka and headed for the school gate.
The black sedan sat at the curb, the Asagami family’s maid waiting silently beside it.
It was, in principle, forbidden to park in front of the school.
But Fujino’s donations to the school made up nearly half its budget, and the staff turned a blind eye to anything the Asagami did.
They didn’t even balk at hand-picking a homeroom teacher for the young miss.
The sedan slid toward Yumizuka’s apartment.
Waving off Shigure’s offer to come up with her, Sakura lifted the hem of her skirt slightly and ran for the stairwell.
The maid lifted her head; her blue eyes locked onto Yumizuka’s apartment.
Inhuman…
Tamping down the strange impulse rising in her, Shigure dropped back into the driver’s seat and lit a long, slim cigarette.
Knock knock knock—
“Yumizuka-san, are you home?” Sakura tapped at the door.
There was no answer.
The apartment was quiet, as if no one were inside.
But it wasn’t.
Behind the door, Satsuki stood with her hand on the handle, trembling.
Sakura’s sweet, sweet scent kept drifting up into her nose; that voice, like something out of a quiet dream, called her name.
Through the wooden door, Satsuki could make out Sakura standing on the other side, knocking.
A figure woven from incandescent red light—to her, like the sun itself.
Satsuki couldn’t open the door.
She was thirsty enough to lose her mind.
The urge to attack the otaku across the hall last night had already half-shredded her grip on herself.
To stand face to face with the Sakura she’d been thinking of nonstop—Satsuki honestly didn’t know what she would do.
She didn’t want to hurt Sakura.
In Satsuki’s world, that was the one thing that had to be upheld.
Receiving no answer, Sakura’s knocks grew slowly heavier.
After a moment of thought, she pulled out her phone and called Yumizuka instead.
[Tick-tock, tick-tock~]
A ringtone hummed and chimed behind the door, in time with the vibration.
Sakura froze.
She understood.
Satsuki was right there, on the other side.
She stopped knocking.
The tip of her finger came to rest gently against the door.
“Yumizuka-san, you’re behind the door, aren’t you?”
“…” Satsuki kept her head down.
Her shoulders shook.
“You don’t want to see me, do you?” Sakura’s voice dropped lower.
“I know.
I promised Yumizuka-san.
That we’d still be friends, no matter what.”
“That if Yumizuka-san was ever in trouble, I’d help.
Without fail.”
“But when Yumizuka-san called me, I wasn’t there…”
Sakura spoke into the wood.
Her hand slid slowly down.
Behind the door, Satsuki’s eyes flew wide.
She clamped a hand over her mouth.
That’s not it…
She stared at the Sakura on the other side of one thin slab of door.
That isn’t it at all…
[I’m only afraid—afraid I’ll hurt you.]
“I’m sorry,” Sakura said, bowing her head against the door.
“I know Yumizuka-san probably hates me right now.”
“But please come back to school tomorrow.
Besides me, Kokutou-sensei is worried about Yumizuka too.”
[As if I care whether that woman is worried about me.]
Satsuki drew in a long breath.
She watched Sakura’s hand drop, her own fist tightening little by little.
“Then… I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry.”
Was she making Sakura sad?
The moment Satsuki saw Sakura turn, downcast, to walk away, she couldn’t hold herself back anymore.
She yanked the door open.
(Kokutou Azaka)