Chapter 200 - The Bad Teacher
Teacher is serious.
She's smiling brightly, but she has the same eyes she had when she split an ogre's head open.
She has the face of a hunter.
And I was nothing more than pathetic prey.
"I said no! If you keep doing stuff like that, I'm going home!"
At my words of rejection, shouted almost in tears, Teacher's movements came to a dead stop.
"...Teacher?"
"Perhaps I teased you a bit too much. No, my apologies. It was simply that you were so defenseless, I couldn't help but tease you. Ah-ha-ha-ha! I am an adult, an older sister, after all. I just feel the urge to bully younger boys."
No, Teacher, you're literally bawling your eyes out right now.
There is absolutely no "mature older sister who seduces younger boys" aura about you anywhere.
You have the maidenly vibe of a Female Sports Club Captain who confesses to a junior out of desperation only to be rejected, you know?
Like a short-haired, boyish girl from the track or kendo club cornering a junior one year below her in the clubroom, only to be told, "I actually have a girlfriend," and then breaking down in tears...
Teacher has long hair in a ponytail, though...
And she's four years older than me...
"Ah-ha-ha. Ah-ha-ha-ha. Ahaha. Why won't things go well for me? Ahaha..."
"Hey, Teacher!?"
And so.
As for what the rejected sports club girl, Teacher Lili, was doing—she was actually heading toward the entrance while half-naked.
This isn't some trendy drama; is she seriously planning to run out like that?
"I won't let you...!"
I used the full extent of the Hero's leg strength to get ahead of her and stood blocking the door.
I spread my arms and stood there like a guardian deity.
She can't go outside like this.
Teacher's gaze...
It swam left and right for a while, then locked onto my face, and before I knew it, the amount of her tears seemed to increase steadily, and then—
"...Please don't look any further than this,"
she said, before collapsing onto the floor.
I could hear the sound of her sniffing loudly.
She was even performing the worst possible combination of moves: sitting in a girl-style crouch while wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
Naturally, guilt washed over me like a tsunami.
At this rate, I might actually drown in it.
"...Teacher."
Unable to endure the Silence, I called out to her.
I leaned down to match her eye level and placed a hand on her shoulder. ...A slender shoulder.
Even though she's supposed to be swinging swords and shields on a daily basis, I could tell her build was far more delicate compared to mine.
I felt myself being swept away by emotion quite intensely, but even so, there was something I had to say.
"Crying and running away because you were rejected for making a baby... are you a child? That's not like you, right? You're a smart person. Let's stop this."
Teacher was still sulking.
As I let my gaze wander, wondering how on earth I should change this atmosphere, I found a piece of paper on the desk.
Written there, in handwriting that wasn't mine, was:
'Keisuke Nakamoto'
"...Teacher? Were you perhaps practicing your kanji?"
While teaching her medical knowledge, we occasionally had opportunities to talk about Japanese as well.
Teacher showed an immense interest whenever the topic of kanji came up. Apparently, the concept of being "somewhere between a picture and a character" was fresh to her.
So, at her request, I had taught her several words.
Teacher had asked me how to write words like "Keisuke Nakamoto," "adultery," "remarriage," and "netori" in Japanese, so I had guided her, but was it just my imagination that the words were all of a certain kind of desire...?
Well, it's probably better not to think too much about that. More importantly, I need to change the subject. I have to shift the mood as quickly as possible and soothe Teacher.
"That's amazing, Teacher. You can write much better than Japanese elementary or middle school students. You really are smart. Let's keep researching together. So, don't act so recklessly. Okay?"
Teacher was nodding silently.
Alright, one more push.
"I like the serious Teacher, you know?"
What I meant was that I preferred the usual, proper Teacher over someone who acts on dangerous impulses, but I realized with a delay that I had just pressed a switch I shouldn't have touched.
"...Is that true?"
"Y-yeah. It's true."
Teacher turned her swollen eyes toward me and wore a dark smile.
What was that? That way of smiling just now might have had something in common with Philia.
It looked like the face of someone who had made up their mind—or rather, someone who had resolved not to care about the means anymore, but that's not it, right?