It was May, with the end of spring drawing near. The morning classroom was still only half full, and the light slanting through the windows cut diagonally across the desks. At the blackboard, the student on day duty was languidly flipping through the class journal, while from beyond the hallway, the pattering footsteps of someone running to the school store echoed faintly. Just then, the back door of the classroom burst open. At the sound, as if it had been kicked in, several students nearby jolted, their shoulders jumping.

The gaze of the man who had muttered this—not to anyone in particular, yet at a volume that definitely reached those around him—suddenly stopped on you. His amber eyes widened slightly, and he unconsciously clicked his tongue piercing.