Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

Episode 23: An Uneventful New Term

He returned to Amazu Manor and unlocked the door to his room. As he stood in the entryway, suspicious “pitter-patter” sounds drifted from inside. Walking down the hallway, he spotted a familiar figure.

Miyagi-san wore a black knit sweater and a knee-length black-and-white striped skirt. Her left leg was clad in semi-transparent black stockings, while her right foot remained bare as she stood by the bed. A crumpled sock lay carelessly on the floor beside her, and that bare ankle now rhythmically thumped against the edge of the bed.

“…What exactly are you doing?” He set down his briefcase and asked calmly.

“Ah, I’m practicing how to use my foot to give Landlord-san… Oh? You’re back?” She turned her head and immediately flashed an adorable smile.

…What was the latter half of that sentence just now? He really wanted to know. Just kidding.

“Is this something that needs to be practiced here?”

“Is Landlord-san suggesting I should consider using my chest instead? That would be more conventional, true. But I have a feeling Landlord-san’s tastes are more extreme than I imagine.”

How should one even respond to such nonsense?

Miyagi-san fell silent and resumed her practice. With a “heya!” she stomped on the bed. This time a clear “thump!” rang out, the reverberations traveling through the floor beneath his feet. The ceiling swayed in his vision as small pieces of the cracked, yellowing concrete walls crumbled and fell.

Well, fortunately there were only two tenants in this apartment building, otherwise someone would have come running up to raise hell by now.

Also, what exactly was the latter half of that earlier sentence? This time he was genuinely curious.

“…By the way, how did you get into my room? I never gave you a key.”

He coldly stared at a certain culprit (pending) who was treating this place completely like her own room.

“Last night, I snuck into Landlord-san’s bedroom, took the key from under your pillow, and had a copy made.”

That’s straight-up criminal behavior, isn’t it?

Moreover, she still hadn’t answered the question. Because to sneak in, she would first need a key to open the door from outside. Was this some kind of circular paradox?

“Actually, I came in through the window.”

Paradox solved! All that’s left is the crime.

Miyagi-san, in her inappropriately provocative attire, suddenly drew close to him.

“Amazing! Landlord-san looks so handsome in his high school uniform too! My heart’s racing~ ♫”

“You hadn’t noticed before?”

“That was the summer uniform, right? Though the healthy exposed skin in the scorching summer was great too. But the thicker formal jacket, how should I put it… has a kind of binding visual effect that really suits Landlord-san’s cool demeanor!”

Please don’t describe a current male high school student’s uniform in such a suggestive way!

“Half of what I said was just teasing.” Miyagi-san laughed cheerfully. “Because usually Landlord-san always looks sleepy and lethargic, it’s rare to see you dressed so neatly and formally.”

“…Can’t be helped, there was a school assembly today.”

The novelist sighed wearily. Besides that, nothing particularly good had happened all day.

—

Two weeks had passed since spring break ended at private Yuihara High School and the new term began. Daily life hadn’t changed much—it was just like when he first entered this school a year ago.

Which is to say, he was still alone.

Yuihara High School was a prestigious college preparatory school in Tokyo, filled with high-achieving students. While his classmates celebrated their youth, they chose not to disturb this peculiar and antisocial boy who constantly emanated an aura of low pressure, spending his days alternating between sleeping and spacing out, often with dark circles under his eyes. They simply treated this quiet boy as someone of a different color, an outsider, or like air, coldly isolating him.

This was actually a relief. If it had been like elementary or middle school, where they were like a murder of crows that would peck at anyone whose feathers were different, gathering in their small society, things would have become troublesome—troublesome for others and the teachers, that is.

He never participated in any clubs or group activities, nor had he ever interacted with his classmates. Such peaceful school days had passed for a year.

And then—

“Why don’t you try taking a more positive and serious approach to life, Liang-kun?”

Because the first two characters of his name were difficult to pronounce, this teacher usually called him directly by his given name. His classmates followed suit. This wasn’t particularly bad; it felt like it would naturally bring their relationship closer. He didn’t actually dislike getting along well with people. However, someone who was already giving their all just to survive in Tokyo couldn’t respond to others’ expectations for anything more. Rather than gradually growing distant later, wasn’t it better not to get involved from the start?

…Unfortunately, the person saying these words couldn’t be dealt with using such a passive, noncommittal attitude.

“Did you need something?”

“No need to change the subject. We’re discussing matters concerning you.”

She spoke languidly while swaying her long legs, clad in pantyhose under her suit skirt.

The homeroom teacher of Class 2-1, where the novelist belonged, was a teacher with a childlike appearance completely unsuited for an adult, and a physique so petite it seemed impossible—

Just kidding.

In reality, she was a mature and beautiful teacher who occasionally used violence but was generally kindhearted, always considering her students’ wellbeing, and desperate to get married.

…Of course, that was also a joke.

Neither of the above, though common in school dramas, was anything more than the delusions of shut-in writers. The former was a physical “impossibility,” while the latter was a social one.

The homeroom teacher of Class 2-1 was male; the homeroom teachers of other classes, if not male, were primarily middle-aged women often seen wearing anxious and gloomy expressions.

Realistically speaking, what we call “beauty” is something cultivated in privileged environments. That kind of leisurely atmosphere was completely at odds with the life of frontline educators. Beautiful, mature female teachers who had the leisure to engage in inappropriate school romances with male high school students (plural) belonged in adult films.

“That’s just your prejudice.” The beautiful teacher laughed softly.

…No, this woman was different from those mentioned above.

Even under the most critical gaze, her appearance and features could only be described as “beautiful.” And yes, she was indeed a teacher at Yuihara High School.

But that didn’t mean his thoughts were wrong. On the contrary, she herself was the very definition of “privileged.”