Ding…
Ding…
The bells of the school rang, signalling the start of classes.
Katsumi sat inside his classroom while reading a book.
The teacher had yet to arrive and, as a result, the chatter filling the room showed no signs of dying down, leaving him slightly unfocused despite his efforts to ignore it.
Aika sat near the middle of the classroom, engrossed in her own book while occasionally sneaking glances toward Katsumi by the window.
The morning sunlight illuminated his face through the glass, while the rays refracted through his spectacles and scattered outward, blinding anyone unfortunate enough to look from certain angles.
“Hey man!
Reading again this early?”
A boy with slightly curly hair leaned forward from the desk behind him.
“Hmm…”
Katsumi responded without lifting his eyes from the page.
“You know, you could read later and actually enjoy life a little.”
The boy smiled expectantly.
“We were thinking of hitting Card Capital after school.
Wanna come?”
“Don’t feel like it.”
Katsumi waved his free hand dismissively.
“Go without me.”
Leaving Aika aside, Katsumi also talked occasionally with Yuta Izaki, an average but surprisingly intelligent guy from his class.
The two had become friends after Katsumi accidentally revealed his hobby of cardfighting.
Slick…
The classroom door slid open.
As though a switch had been flipped, the chatter that had dominated the room gradually lost momentum, for the arrival of a teacher naturally signalled the end of freedom.
A man with focused eyes behind his spectacles and messy blond hair stepped into the room while carrying a stack of papers beneath one arm.
Several students immediately returned to their seats.
Others hurriedly hid the snacks they had been eating.
A few pretended they had been studying the entire time.
“Good morning, everyone.”
“Good morning, Kuroda-sensei.”
The response arrived in varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Some greeted him properly.
Some merely moved their lips.
Others simply nodded.
Kuroda-sensei had long since stopped caring.
History teachers generally learned to lower their expectations after a few years.
After placing the papers upon his desk, he swept his gaze across the classroom, though it paused for a fraction longer than necessary when it reached Katsumi.
Naturally.
The boy was still reading.
“You seem awfully invested in that book, Morikawa.”
Katsumi slowly raised his head.
The physics book snapped shut.
“It’s for educational purposes.”
“History is also educational.”
Katsumi adjusted his spectacles and nodded.
“I hope so.”
The classroom fell silent.
Then several students failed to suppress their laughter.
Yuta nearly choked.
Aika lowered her head and covered her mouth with her book.
Kuroda-sensei stared at Katsumi for several seconds as though debating whether the conversation was worth continuing before ultimately releasing a long sigh.
“One day your mouth is going to get you into trouble.”
“It hasn’t failed me so far.”
“That isn’t reassuring.”
Shaking his head, Kuroda-sensei abandoned the conversation entirely.
Years spent standing before classrooms had taught him that arguing with certain students was not only pointless but often more exhausting than simply accepting defeat from the beginning.
And Morikawa Katsumi unquestionably belonged to that category.
“Alright.”
Picking up a piece of chalk, he turned toward the board.
“Today we’re continuing our lesson on the Sengoku Period.”
A collective groan immediately spread throughout the room.
History.
The natural enemy of teenagers.
Ignoring the complaints with practiced ease, Kuroda-sensei began writing across the board.
Names.
Dates.
Battles.
Political alliances.
The usual.
Unlike many teachers who simply read from a textbook before assigning pages to memorize, however, Kuroda-sensei actually seemed to enjoy what he taught.
The rise of ambitious warlords.
The collapse of ancient clans.
The betrayals that shattered alliances.
The battles that reshaped provinces.
All of it flowed together beneath his explanations until history began sounding less like a school subject and more like an ongoing story.
Perhaps that was why some students actually paid attention.
“…and that betrayal ultimately resulted in the collapse of the alliance.”
Kuroda-sensei tapped the board with the chalk.
“Can anyone tell me what happened afterward?”
Immediately, several students found their desks fascinating.
Others suddenly discovered a profound interest in the ceiling.
A few became incredibly invested in writing notes.
It was a classic classroom maneuver, refined through generations of academic survival.
His gaze landed on Katsumi.
Unfortunately for him, Katsumi had actually been listening.
“Morikawa.”
“Yes.”
“What happened afterward?”
Without even glancing at his notebook, Katsumi answered.
“The surviving forces reorganized under a different leadership structure while exploiting the resulting power vacuum, after which the alliance dissolved shortly afterward due to internal instability.”
“…Correct.”
Kuroda-sensei nodded.
Several students looked surprised.
Yuta wasn’t.
At this point, Katsumi randomly knowing things had become normal.
The lesson continued.
Meanwhile, Kuroda-sensei’s thoughts briefly wandered toward the deck case hidden inside his desk drawer.
A black deck case.
One containing a clan that very few people used.
Nubatama.
A clan of shadows.
Of patience.
Of silent and calculated strikes.
It wasn’t popular.
It wasn’t particularly powerful.
Yet he liked it regardless.
History wasn’t the only thing he taught.
Sometimes, after school, he quietly visited Card Capital as well.
Naturally, none of his students knew that.
For now, however, the classroom settled into a temporary state of peace.
A teacher continued his lesson.
Students pretended to absorb knowledge.
Aika secretly glanced toward Katsumi.
Katsumi secretly ignored Aika.
And Blue secretly complained inside Katsumi’s head.
‘This lesson is boring.’
‘History is important.’
‘Not as important as dragons.’
‘Everything isn’t about dragons.’
‘That is Incorrect.
In my day we learn about honour, not deceit and defeat.
‘
Katsumi resisted the urge to sigh.
Judging by both the lesson and the dragon inhabiting his mind, it was shaping up to be a particularly long day.