009. Auspiciousness Descends from the Heavens, Fierce and Wrathful

The teacher closed the textbook, glanced over the class, said, "Class dismissed," and then turned to leave the classroom.

Instantly, the room erupted into a clamor.

Whispers, the scraping of chairs, the rustling of pages... in just a second, silence gave way to noise.

Nangun Yuyue came back to his senses and looked around. The students had already gathered in small groups, chatting among themselves.

Yet, Wakaba Mutsumi remained in the same posture as before, quietly staring at the ancient poem in her textbook.

Nangun Yuyue looked at her with some surprise.

How focused can one be?

But he said nothing, simply stood up, reached for the chair he had moved earlier to read, and quietly put it back in its original place before stepping out of the classroom.

At the same time, Sachiko Toyokawa sat quietly at her own desk.

The murmurs around her drifted intermittently to her ears.

“This new transfer student knows so much about Todai culture…”

“Maybe she’s a novelist. After all, novelists always seem to know all kinds of strange trivia, making it feel like they can jump into any conversation.”

“Could be…”

The words floated away in the air, but Sachiko paid them no mind. Instead, she turned her gaze toward Wakaba Mutsumi.

Mutsumi still kept her head lowered, quietly absorbed in the poem—whether it was “Quiet Night Thoughts” or “The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter” that held her attention, Sachiko couldn’t tell.

She reached out and gently tapped Mutsumi’s shoulder.

“Mutsu, have you just met him?”

Mutsumi slowly raised her head. “A few days.”

Her voice was soft.

Sachiko thought for a moment, then realization dawned.

“You mean you had met him before he transferred here?”

Mutsumi opened her mouth slightly, as if to say something, but in the end, no sound came out. She merely lowered her eyes again.

Judging by her reaction, Sachiko felt she more or less understood, so she smiled and said,

“I’ll step out for a moment.”

With that, she strode out of the classroom.

Mutsumi’s gaze followed Sachiko’s retreating figure until she disappeared completely through the doorway.

———

Outside the classroom, after class, Nangun Yuyue wandered along the corridors of the teaching building.

Though Wakaba Mutsumi had already shown him around when he first arrived, she only briefly introduced some of the more important classrooms. Some of the less frequented areas still needed to be explored on his own.

He climbed to a higher floor, where opposite the stairs sat the original girls’ restroom and a newly renovated boys’ restroom.

Every female student who came out of the restroom would glance curiously through the newly opened door of the boys’ restroom before quickly walking away.

“Sigh, this is the downside of being a protected species, huh? People’s privacy gets leaked little by little in daily life…”

Nangun Yuyue now truly believed that long-term lack of contact with the opposite sex influences one’s personality.

It was like how a long-term vegetarian diet might lead to odd problems—like developing allergies to cucumbers, constant household electrical failures, failed music listening, cats going missing, or never getting through to customer service representatives.

Lost in thought, he continued up to the top floor.

As expected of Tsukinomori Girls’ Academy, the top floor of this middle school building boasted a large flat window.

Through the window, roughly the height of Nangun Yuyue himself, he could gaze out over the entire Tsukinomori campus and even some of the scenery beyond.

Inside the campus, youth blossomed.

On the playground, figures in sailor uniforms ran about; young girls held hands, strolling beneath the shade of trees; and Nangun Yuyue even spotted someone playing with a cat in a quiet corner.

A band was performing outdoors, surrounded by a crowd.

Though the distance and the soundproofing of the window glass meant Nangun Yuyue couldn’t hear a thing, he could tell the band was quite popular.

“If I’m not mistaken, the Tsukinomori Music Festival is coming up soon.”

Suddenly, the thought struck him.

The Tsukinomori Music Festival was one of the school’s most significant annual events.

It took place around this time every year, with the choir, wind ensemble, and other music students signing up to perform.

Sachiko Toyokawa had been deeply moved by the performance of the senior band Morfonica at last year’s festival—that was what inspired her to form Crychic.

Kurai Kei Kurai.

Kurai Kei—

Kurai.

That was the name of their band—a truly bittersweet group. Do you have a band like this? Truly bittersweet, indeed.

Wanting a better view, Nangun Yuyue reached to fiddle with the window’s lock.

For safety reasons, this window was usually kept closed.

But since it was rarely maintained, Nangun Yuyue easily twisted it open with a soft “click.”

A refreshing breeze rushed in, caressing his face.

Though it was late spring, the gentle wind was still soft and soothing, instantly relaxing him.

Sunny sky, sunlight, a gentle breeze.

This was the everyday morning Nangun Yuyue had always dreamed of.

No need to toil for survival, no worries about the turbulent undercurrents in dragon society, no anxieties about how many hybrids surrounded him...

He leisurely welcomed the spring breeze upon his face.

Outside, the scene seemed suspended in time. Among the tiny figures scattered across the distant campus, Nangun Yuyue’s eyes caught a cherry blossom petal drifting down from the rooftop.

It slanted through mottled sunlight, its two outermost petals glowing translucent amber as it traced a graceful arc downward.

A Yaeben Shidarezakura—a rare variety of weeping cherry blossom. The mature tree’s shape resembled a willow, flowing elegantly in the wind, breathtakingly beautiful.

Its descent was slow, the arc swaying with the breeze, gradually drifting toward Nangun Yuyue’s window.

“Oh?”

He watched the mysteriously falling petal, pale as a butterfly, and instinctively reached out to catch it.

Suddenly, the breeze shifted again, and the petal’s path altered abruptly, drifting farther and farther away.

Nangun Yuyue’s competitive spirit flared. He leaned out the window and reached his hand further.

Closer, closer...

Just a bit more—

If he stretched out a little more, he should be able to catch it.

He leaned out further. As if in response, the petal’s arc swung back, almost landing in his palm.

Then, suddenly—

Smack!

A figure lunged forward, pinning Nangun Yuyue beneath them.

Outside, the cherry blossom traced a long, leisurely arc before fluttering to the ground.

Pain—

So much pain.

Nangun Yuyue lifted his head to look at the figure pressing him down. At first, he noticed something that didn’t belong to a middle schooler—a mature, well-shaped form.

Tight clothing and the position made this form even more prominent.

His eyes slowly traveled upward, and then he saw the face.

?

Isn’t this...

Sachiko Toyokawa?