Mission: Collateral Damage

Takeshi entered the teachers’ room early in the morning, gave a brief greeting, and bowed. As he passed Shizuka’s desk, his eyes flicked briefly to her shoes. He wasn’t particularly surprised she wore no shoelaces. One more stumble, and it might’ve ended in disaster. Just as he reached his desk, a female voice called out behind him.

“Ah, Mr. Katou! You get along with your class?” asked Ms. Suginami, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“That’s a question only the students of Class 2-3 can answer,” Takeshi shrugged, trying to look at least somewhat friendly.

“Ohooo, so you haven’t heard yet?” A mischievous smile spread across Ms. Suginami’s face.

Takeshi looked at her, puzzled.

“They’ve been talking about you. Just this morning, I overheard a few girls in the hallway, gushing about how good-looking and intelligent you are.”

He wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, but in the end, it didn’t matter anyway. What mattered was whether he could teach them anything.

“Oh, please, that’s just because he’s new. Give them a few days and they’ll forget all about him.” Mr. Watanabe cut in, wearing a smug expression as he looked down at Takeshi with a mocking grin.

“You’re just jealous of our newcomer’s popularity,” Ms. Suginami snapped back.

“Pff… Jealous of him!? No way! Everyone knows I’m the most popular teacher here!”

Uh… since when has this become a contest?

“Dream on! Just look at him,” rebutted Ms. Suginami, as if it would be supremely obvious.

“Yeah, so what? He doesn’t look that good. And also, I wonder if his sporty looks are all fake. Come on! Show me your muscles!” Watanabe ordered, like some bodybuilder challenging an opponent.

Ms. Suginami wanted to say something, but her face seemed fired up somehow.

“Normally I wouldn’t agree with him, but in this case…”

Ehm… excuse me? This is getting out of hand…and you know I am still here, do you?

Overwhelmed by the situation, Takeshi didn’t know how to respond, so he said nothing. He was prepared to handle dangerous or uncomfortable situations. But this was…

Shizuka sat a short distance away with a pitiful look on her face.

“Maybe… we should focus on the upcoming lessons,” interfered Shizuka, trying to save Takeshi.

Her eyes a little downcast, Ms. Suginami agreed.

“Of course, you're right. I think I got a little too comfortable right now.”

“Pff. Katou-sensei is just scared. Doesn’t want to admit I am better trained, I bet.”

“I couldn’t care less. But at least I am not trying to build my fragile ego around my looks,” Takeshi said in a sharp voice. He slipped his hand back into his pockets and went back to his desk.

“What did you just say?!” Watanabe was enraged, and you could see the steam rising from his ears.

“Ouch, that hurts,” murmured Ms. Suginami, suppressing a giggle.

While the others kept arguing about different topics, he began preparing for class. He wanted to go over the student files again and jot down a few notes. His first lesson had already revealed several details he found important. One detail stood out: a seat had been empty, even though it clearly belonged to a student. The seating chart listed the name Tsukamoto Aimi. He assumed she was sick and didn’t think much of it.

Before he knew it, it was time for class. On his way there, he saw students rushing into classrooms, some stepping out of the restroom, others chatting with friends from other classes.

Inside the classroom, groups broke up as students returned to their seats. Tsukamoto’s seat was still empty. But this time, so was Ayaka’s.

Is she sick too? I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

When Ayaka Ikehara’s name came up during roll call, he decided to ask the class rep.

“Isobe-san, do you know what’s up with Ikehara-san?” Takeshi asked, looking at the blond boy in the second row.

“To be honest… no, I don’t. She was here this morning, but she disappeared a little while ago and hasn’t returned since,” Akio tilted his head slightly, genuinely puzzled.

“Pfft! Maybe she needed to cool off… haha.”

The comment came from the back row. Naomi Asa, with her long, bleached brown-blonde hair bouncing as she snickered. Her makeup was thick, nails painted, and earrings oversized. Beside her, two more girls giggled. Kameko Kirisawa and Mari Shimoda, both equally overdone.

Takeshi didn’t respond and continued.

I’ll check the teachers’ room later. Maybe she signed out…

***

After class, he made his way straight to the staff room. He moved more slowly than usual, lost in thought. He sat at his desk with his arms crossed, his expression serious. He looked out the window, eyes unfocused. Around him: chatter, the whir of the printer, the clacking of keyboards. But all of it was mere background noise. His thoughts kept drifting toward someone.

Ayaka Ikehara…

She isn’t in class. Not a word from her. Not even a message. Most teachers haven’t even realized yet.

But he noticed. A slow breath in. He closed his eyes, and his mind began to process.

Status report. Option one: She left the school grounds. Unlikely. The front gate is locked after class starts. So, she must still be here. Why is she missing?

This likely has to do with Naomi Asa. At least, judging by her comment, there must be some kind of dynamic going on. Maybe something happened before she left…

Takeshi recalled her presence at the front gate, back on his first day.

Quiet. Head down. Avoiding eye contact. Conclusion: She retreated because of some incident.

Where could she be? Nurse’s office? No, there would’ve been a report. Library? Unlikely, also monitored... The roof? Too risky. It had to be somewhere secluded. Somewhere no one would think to look.

That leaves the gym. There shouldn’t be anyone right now. Perfect spot to be alone and hide.

He tapped his fingers against the desk, thinking.

I need to confirm it myself.

Takeshi moved immediately.

***

No sound. No movement.

At first, he saw no one. Every step he took was deliberate, as if sneaking up on something. The gym stood across from the club buildings, separated by a small, paved area. Standing in the center, he paused and scanned the surroundings. Still nothing.

Clack… Clack… Clack…

A soft sound drifted to him. He turned to it on instinct. It was a fallen bucket, caught in the wind, gently knocking against the gym wall next to the red vending machine.

Clack…

He walked over and picked it up.

A mop bucket… shouldn’t this be in a closet? Too early for janitors… Still wet. Used recently. Why?

He scanned for more clues.

No cleaning staff should be around. Still class time. It had to be filled somewhere. No scent. No soap or cleanser.

Next to the bucket, he noticed a trail of water droplets. He followed them to a water dispenser on the right side of the building.

It must’ve been filled here. Hm? Someone had wet shoes. Still clearly visible. Judging by the weather and surface conditions… ten minutes ago, at max.

The faint footprints led him behind the gym. Takeshi moved silently. Just before turning around the corner, he noticed a large, dark patch on the ground. The water had soaked in, clearly visible.

Why would someone spill water here? Not to water the dry grass, that’s for sure…

Then he saw her. She was curled up, arms wrapped tight around her knees. Her uniform was soaked in dark water stains.

Goosebumps on her arms, wet hair, trembling shoulders. Now I get it.

He stopped. No wasted steps. No sudden moves.

“Ikehara-san.”

She flinched like a cornered animal. She didn’t look up.

“You missed class.”

Silence. But he could tell she heard him. She held her breath like someone hoping to go unnoticed.

Cold skin. Tense shoulders. No visible injuries. She’s shaking.

“Get up.” Calm voice. Not commanding, not gentle either.

Ayaka froze, her fingers dug into her sleeves. She didn’t move an inch.

Takeshi exhaled quietly.

“You’ll catch a cold if you stay here any longer.”

A tiny twitch of her shoulders showed she’d heard.

“Your gym clothes. Go change.”

Her breathing grew unsteady. Still no eye contact. A subtle nod, then, slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, every movement reluctant.

Her movements were stiff and mechanical, but she could walk. As she passed him, he said:

“I’ll wait for you in front of the locker room.”

A brief silence, then she continued on.

In front of the changing room, Takeshi folded his arms behind his back. His breath was shallow, calm, steady. He stood motionless beside the door like a statue.

Her demeanor, body language, and the way she avoided eye contact. I know what this means… I’ve seen it in the past.

The way Takeshi stood there would’ve seemed bizarre to an outsider. Unnaturally calm, composed, completely in control. A kind of distant vigilance, like nothing could shake him. But Takeshi wasn’t aware of that. For him, this was normal.

Next to him, the door opened. He could hear her unsteady steps. Takeshi looked at her with his inexpressive eyes. Her gym clothes didn’t fit well and were just a little oversized. What Takeshi noticed most, though, was her still-damp hair. Without a second thought, he pulled a clean, unused handkerchief from his jacket pocket and held it out to her with steady hands. Ayaka froze, holding her breath. Her eyes stayed on the floor, like she didn’t know what to do.

“Here. Dry your hair,” Takeshi tried to sound as gentle and reassuring as possible. Slowly, she lifted her hands and carefully took the cloth. Her fingers were shaking as she touched it. She held it as if it were too valuable, as if she wasn’t allowed to have it.

“When you’re ready, come back to class. You’ve already missed enough.”

Silence. No words. Then a small nod. Takeshi turned and walked slowly back toward the school building. Ayaka remained behind, staring at the handkerchief as if she didn’t understand why he’d done that. Then, she unfolded it and pressed it to her wet hair. A faint flinch as her fingers touched her head. She bit hard on her lower lip, as if trying to suppress something. For a brief moment, she lifted her head and looked after him.

A faint murmur reached him, too soft to catch. Thanks? An apology? He couldn’t tell.

And to him, it wasn’t supposed to matter.