The Wrath of Zhuge and the Eccentric Teacher

Five minutes later.

“Wuwuwu”

(Sobbing)

“My… beautiful hair!”

As I stared at the empty reflection in the window, I realized that my beautiful hair, my companion who had been with me for many years, forging a bond since middle school, had now departed.

‘If I were to journey to the Western Pure Land at this moment, surely the gods and Buddhas would welcome me.’

****

I slowly turned my head.

My gaze, filled with resentment, fixed on the petite girl huddled in the corner, who seemed utterly harmless.

And what about the object around the girl’s neck? It looked suspiciously like a metal collar, without even a single seam.

The girl, dressed in men’s clothing, had her hair disheveled, her face vacant as she gazed up at the clock above the podium, as if counting down the seconds until class began.

****

‘Wait.’

‘Dressed in men’s clothing?’

‘A collar?’

I suddenly noticed something incredibly significant.

“Hey, Sugiyama!”

I hurriedly nudged my listless deskmate, Sugiyama, who sat beside me. Sugiyama was a seemingly conscientious and honest student, utterly unremarkable at first glance, yet he possessed a gentlemanly heart no less profound than my own.

“What is it, Zhuge… Pfft.”

I felt a sharp pang where the last half-centimeter of my hair remained, pierced by Sugiyama’s burning gaze.

“You, of all ‘honest’ men, have no right to laugh at me like this!” I retorted. “And why are you still completely unscathed? You were the one who started the conversation!”

Enraged, I slammed my heavy textbook, weighing a good half-pound, onto Sugiyama’s head.

Sugiyama merely smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Zhuge, do you understand? Sometimes, being ordinary is a blessing.”

“A blessing, my foot! You’re just so unremarkable that you’re completely ignored, aren’t you?”

“Zhuge, do you understand? This is precisely why I chose to be your deskmate.”

‘I never imagined you considered so many things just to sit beside me….’

‘No, my understanding of you was far too shallow…..’

“Sugiyama!”

“Zhuge!”

‘What kind of ridiculous atmosphere is this!’

Instantly dispelling the strange, awkward tension, I swiftly steered the conversation back on track.

“Hand over the school regulations! Sugiyama, if it’s you… you’re bound to have them, right?”

“Oh, I do have them…”

Sugiyama retrieved a small booklet embossed with the words ‘Moonlight Hall’ from his utterly unremarkable grey-black school bag. The booklet was as pristine as a freshly printed edition, still emanating the strong scent of new ink. Truly, he was an honest student.

Without waiting for Sugiyama’s response, I snatched the booklet from his hand.

“School Regulation… Article Four.”

“…Students must wear the Moonlight Hall Academy uniform upon entering school… boys and girls must wear their respective prescribed uniforms…”

‘So that’s it…’

“And… School Regulation… Article Nine.”

“…Moonlight Hall Academy students must strictly adhere to social norms! Absolutely no involvement with inappropriate content! Any involvement with or use of inappropriate materials will result in severe punishment!”

‘Disciplinary Committee, huh… Heh heh…’

‘Just you wait to taste the wrath of Lord Zhuge! I’ll make you experience… what it means… to deal with someone in their own way!’

‘After all, I am a descendant of the Zhuge clan!’

****

Time: 8:30 AM.

Location: Moonlight Hall Academy, Middle School Division, Class 2-B.

First Period: Classical Chinese.

****

Thump-thump… thump…

A sound akin to a cane striking the floor echoed through the room.

“Good morning, students, cough, cough…”

The Classical Chinese teacher was an eccentric individual. It wasn’t her personality that was strange, but rather her teaching style; she always rambled about all sorts of unrelated topics. Moreover, she harbored a passion for ‘cosplay’—a hobby not unlike that of modern youth.

Of course, to the students, this hobby often seemed rather out of place.

‘What on earth is a female teacher doing, entering the classroom dressed in a Mao suit, an attire typically reserved for funerals?’

“Cough-wheeze… cough…“

A peculiar, seemingly forced elderly cough emanated from her.

Regardless, upon seeing the teacher, Youli immediately stood up.

“Stand!”

At the Class Monitor’s call, everyone rose simultaneously.

“Bow!”

A rustling sound filled the room as students clumsily completed the bow, a basic gesture of respect for their teacher.

“Dismissed!”

Class Monitor Tenshouin Youli finally sat down. Despite her prim, serious expression, her feigned sternness still looked incredibly adorable.

“Cough, cough, cough… Students… cough, cough, cough... Today, the topic we’ll be discussing... cough, cough, cough, cough, cough… I’m sure you all know it already.”

‘Seriously, there has to be a limit to how much you fake a cough!’

The Classical Chinese teacher, over thirty and by all accounts old enough to have grown children, yet still sporting the twin pigtails favored by elementary schoolers, suddenly shifted her tone, sending a chill down the spines of the entire class.

“Could it be Fujino-sen—”

The student’s voice was instantly cut off. The Classical Chinese teacher’s hunched back, however, suddenly straightened, and her chest swelled with the straightening of her posture, a veritable tempest.

“That’s right, students~ Today, we’ll be discussing the text left by the great ‘Mr. Zhou Shuren’~”

‘Your image transformation is far too swift! Where did your hunched old lady persona go?’

“However, before class begins, does anyone have any questions~ As your homeroom teacher, I’d be absolutely delighted to solve~ them~ for~ you~”

Indeed, though she was flighty, this woman was truly their homeroom teacher. She felt entirely different from the old man teacher I’d had in my previous life, before I’d skipped grades.

Thus, barely a second after her previous question, the Classical Chinese teacher seamlessly continued with her next sentence.

“Alrighty then~ Since there are no questions…”

Ordinarily, this phrase would merely be the teacher’s customary opening, ignored by all, but today, something seemed different.

“I have a question!”

“Oh~! Which… student! Do you have a question?!”

Though the voice sounded familiar, the Classical Chinese teacher seemed unable to discern who the student with their hand raised was.

“I have a question!”

“Student, I already deeply understand that you have a question~ There’s no need to say it again~”

The Classical Chinese teacher pushed up her glasses, deadpan as she retorted.

‘Seriously, for a thirty-something-year-old, constantly referring to herself in the third person like “人家” is incredibly jarring, isn’t it?’

I carefully wiped the sweat from my face. To avoid smudging the ‘normal person makeup’ I had painstakingly applied, I deliberately controlled my strength, lightly dabbing my cheek with my wide sleeve, applying no pressure at all.

Ye Sakaki, sitting in the front row, was doing the exact same movement, full of vigor, as if they were carved from the same mold.

As for why he wasn’t sitting in front of me… a glance at Liu Zhuang, the ‘Ultra-Literary Beauty’ who, as always, was energetically hogging an entire row of desks, gave me the answer.

‘That self-proclaimed ‘Elder Brother’… he must have knelt before the teacher to beg for a seat change, surely!’