Where We Choose to Stand

The school courtyard hidden in Tokyo’s biggest park was transformed.

Paper lanterns floated like soft stars above long rows of tables and banners. Barrier seals shimmered along the roofs, tightening and relaxing in timed pulses like the heartbeat of the entire institution. Officials from across the school system walked in carefully arranged paths, their robes crisp, their eyes always watchful.

The air was filled with power and prestige.

Right in the corner of the courtyard, behind a tasteful decorative bamboo fence, sat the eight misfit children, folded neatly on the tatami mats as though glued into polite stillness. Every single one had both hands in their lap, backs straight, eyes forward.

Youchan had never seen anything like it. Scary…

Mon’s tail was hidden. Gon’s ears were glued down under the strongest glamour spell of his life. Honey was meditating. Sumire floated exactly three centimeters above her cushion, perfectly symmetrical. Kojiro looked like his soul had entered military academy. Kishin was sweating but sitting up straight. Meow hadn’t broken a single plate, cup, or object for an entire hour. Akashi, though restless, sat unmoving as he muttered ‘manners, manners, manners’ under his breath.

And Mutsuki stood behind them, looking like a beautiful lady with the spirit of a man who had fought British civil wars and survived. His hair was tied perfectly. His power and glamour spell were stable. He would have looked like any professional teacher… if he hadn’t been visibly vibrating from nerves. His crossdressing was surprisingly accepted easily by everyone. Some yokai even giggled when he looked in their direction.

Mutsuki gulped. Once an idol, always an idol, I suppose.

‘They’re behaving,’ Youchan whispered. She inched closer, hoping her own heart could help steady his.

‘Yes,’ he whispered back. ‘They’re behaving. Why are they behaving?’

‘Because,’ she murmured, ‘they’re terrified of Maria.’

The very mention made every child straighten another millimeter. As if summoned, Maria strode past them with a flaring long coat, tablet in hand, and a crisp voice. She directed personnel and bowed to dignitaries with bold elegance. She gave the misfit corner a single glance. Instantly, all eight children sat even straighter.

Maria’s expression remained emotionless, but her eyes softened by one cell. Cute! My Mutsuki did that! Good job, my boy!

Youchan saw it. Mutsuki didn’t.

He exhaled shakily. ‘Okay. Okay. If they can just survive today, if no one cries, or transforms, or explodes, or causes supernatural weather… then maybe we can make it through the—’

‘♡MUTSUKI-KUN♡?’

A distant female voice stabbed through the crowd like silk wrapped around steel.

He froze. Don’t tell me…

Youchan too, froze. Oh no, not her, please.

Even the children froze after seeing their guardians’ reactions.

Wearing a fitted exorcist coat embroidered with silver talismans, hair sleek, lips tinted red like fresh lacquer, Saegusa Shigure entered the scene. She walked with a purpose, cutting through the crowd with the bold grace of someone who believed the world belonged to her.

The elite children followed behind her in perfect triangular formation. Not a step out of sync. Not a breath off beat.

Mutsuki whispered to Youchan, ‘We’re dead.’

‘I’ll handle it,’ she whispered back.

He grabbed her sleeve. ‘No! You must value your own life more than that.’

Not that it mattered. Shigure arrived and stopped in front of them. She smiled in a way that put Regina George to shame.

‘♡Kuroyanagi-sensei♡,’ she said sweetly, ‘fancy seeing you here. Ah, but of course… Maria forced you to come.’

Her eyes flicked to Youchan who was standing ever so close to Mutsuki.

‘Fujikura-san. Always polite. Always prepared. You look lovely, by the way.’

Youchan bowed politely. ‘Saegusa-sensei.’

‘Oh please,’ Shigure sighed, waving her hand, ‘no need to be formal, dear. We’re colleagues now.’

Mutsuki gagged at the thought. Shigure will eliminate me the moment I show weakness…

Shigure stepped closer, shoving Youchan out of her way. She turned to Mutsuki, stepping uncomfortably close.

‘You look well,’ she purred.

She leaned in closer, at first just to breathe down Mutsuki’s neck. Then she blew on his ear. Eventually, she went for it. For Mutsuki’s lips.

Bonk.

Her face hit a barrier.

A soft but very satisfying thud sounded, followed by a faint fizzle of Mutsuki’s reflex barrier. Shigure’s nose flattened like a pressed dumpling. Several passing adults looked over at the source of the commotion.

Mutsuki kept smiling politely. ‘Please don’t kiss me in front of children, Shigure.’

The first name basis and familiarity rubbed at Youchan. Behind them, the misfits clapped silently. All except Kojiro, who raised an impressed brow. Shigure stepped back gracefully, regaining her posture but not losing her snarky tone.

‘Still quick with barriers,’ she said. ‘A shame you don’t use that talent for actual Bureau work.’

‘Teaching is Bureau work.’

‘Mn…’ Shigure shrugged condescendingly. ‘Technically.’

‘I preferred you when you looked like a proper man anyways.’ She added.

Her eyes slid to the misfit class. Youchan felt dread pool in her stomach when she saw the way Shigure looked down on her children.

‘So these,’ Shigure murmured, ‘are your charges.’

Eight perfect, terrified cherubs stared back.

‘Misfits, aren’t they?’ she cooed. ‘Special cases. Emotionally unstable. Immature. Unmanageable.’ She tilted her head, smile widening. ‘This one,’ she pointed at Mon, who squeaked in fear, ‘looks like a safety hazard. This one,’ she pointed at Meow, ‘radiates miscast energy. Poor child.’

Meow curled inward, trying to make her self more smaller. Kishin’s hands shook. Honey’s lips pressed tight. Akashi growled softly.

Shigure placed a hand on her elite class leader’s shoulder. A lightning-sprite boy with straight posture and an aura honed like a blade.

‘Observe,’ she told him gently. ‘This is an example of what happens when yokai are left to chance.’

She added sweetly, but definitely pointedly, ‘You must learn to lead better than this, child.’

Youchan’s breath caught. Ok. That is enough.

Before she could slap someone to the next month, Mutsuki stepped forward.

‘Saegusa-sensei.’ His voice was soft.

Youchan was secretly pleased Mutsuki reverted back to calling her by the family name.

Shigure hummed. ‘Mm? Yes my dear?’

‘Don’t talk to my students.’

She tilted her head slowly. ‘Oh? Did I strike a nerve?’

‘Don’t,’ he repeated, ‘talk to my students.’

The misfits straightened and clenched their fists or paws in silence. The elite class stiffened as they felt the restraint breaking in the misfits’ aura.

Shigure’s eyes glittered with interest. ‘Awwww… ♡Mutsuki♡ You’re awfully protective of them for someone who claims not to care about—’

‘I care,’ he said sharply.

Youchan’s heart skipped.

Shigure raised a brow. ‘About yourself? Or about them?’

Ouch… Mutsuki recalled their brief history. Mmm…. I was selfish with Shigure… She’s got the right to be angry…

‘About them.’ Mutsuki said. ‘And, if there is something to mend between us, let me know how I could move us forward.’ 

‘I don’t know. Can you make it up to me? ♡Mutsuki♡?’ 

Shigure met Mutsuki’s eyes and smiled suggestively. She raised a hand to touch his lips, this time, no barrier stopped her. It took Youchan’s heart, mind, soul and absolutely everything else left in her to not open up a portal underneath Shigure’s feet, sending her straight to hell.

‘Was it wise for me to let you live?’

Something in the air snapped. Eight little auras flared in unison, as natural as breathing. Without a word, they rose from the tatami and moved around Mutsuki in a loose but unmistakable protective crescent.

Sumire at the center, ready to bark orders. Akashi and Honey flanking Mutsuki like loyal wolves. Gon and Mon bristling like fireworks. Kishin clutching his bat but chin high. Meow tiny but present. Kojiro sharp as a drawn blade behind Youchan.

Shigure’s elite students immediately responded, stepping into their polished formation. Perfect angles. Perfect spacing. Perfect posture. Two tiny armies faced each other.

Mutsuki whispered, ‘Please don’t fight. Please don’t fight. Please don’t fight.’

Shigure stepped closer to him again.

‘You know,’ she said with a scoff, ‘your class is spirited. I’ll give you that. But darling, spirit is not enough. When the world looks at them, it will see untrained powers, instability, and lack of future.’

Mutsuki’s jaw clenched.

‘And when the world looks at you,’ she continued, eyes lowered to meet each student, ‘it sees a talent wasted. A tainted prodigy who ran. A vampire hiding in a shrine. A teacher playing make-believe with broken children.’

Meow flinched. Honey snarled. Akashi’s claws slipped out. Sumire’s water rose in her cup. Kishin’s bat glowed faintly. Mon’s hat rattled like a primed cannon. Gon twitched with curse energy. Even Kojiro’s wings stretched out under the illusion, ready for anything.

Youchan took a step forward, but Mutsuki was already moving. He crouched in front of Meow, cupping her cheek, shielding her from Shigure’s line of sight.

His voice was firm, clear, and gentle.

‘You’re not broken.’

Meow shook. ‘But… she said…’ Her eyes were already fogged and blurred by tears.

‘She’s wrong.’

He lifted the yokai card Meow had worked so hard on. Soft pink, uneven lines, but glowing with effort.

‘I’m proud of you,’ he said. ‘All of you.’

Eight tiny hearts tried to remain stable, holding unto their sensei’s words.

Mutsuki stood, facing Shigure fully.

‘You’re an excellent hunter,’ he told her. ‘A powerful teacher. A terrifying person.’

She blushed at being so close to Mutsuki’s face. Compliment or insult? Do I have a chance after all?

‘But you’re wrong about one thing.’

The misfit class leaned forward. Youchan held her breath. Mutsuki’s eyes narrowed as his unmistakably strong magic flickered faintly around him in reaction to his feelings.

‘I didn’t fall here,’ he said quietly. ‘I walked. Because these children deserve someone who sees what they can be, not what they aren’t. Because they’re worth teaching, even when they’re scared. Even when they’re messy. Even when they’re loud or clumsy or learning at their own pace.’

Shigure’s elite kids whispered among themselves. The misfits glowed.

And Mutsuki finished, ‘Because they are mine.’

The courtyard stilled. Not the romantic ‘’mine’’, but the protective, life-binding ‘’mine’’. The kind a parent uses. The kind a guardian chooses. The kind that makes children straighten their backs and swell with pride even if they don’t fully understand why.

Shigure exhaled softly, realizing she was being stared at by everyone. A strange expression of curiosity, maybe even respect, passed through her eyes. 

‘We’ll see how they perform today.’

She snapped her fingers once. Her students followed her like a flowing formation of blades and silk. Before she left, she looked once at Youchan.

‘I suppose,’ she eyed her up and down, ‘we’ll see if you can really keep him standing, Fujikura-san.’ I am the better fit for him! 

Youchan smiled politely. ‘He stands on his own. I’m just here when he needs company.’

Shigure’s eye twitched slightly, clearly not expecting a crisp comeback from the otherwise tame shrine maiden.

Watch yourself, princess. Shigure’s eyes did the talking as she disappeared into the crowd with her kids.

When they vanished into the crowd, the misfit class collapsed like puppets cut from strings.

‘WE HELD IT TOGETHER,’ Mon gasped, flopping dramatically.

Gon started shaking Mutsuki’s arm. ‘Sensei! Sensei! Did you see?! I didn’t punch anyone!’

‘I almost did,’ Akashi confessed.

Honey hugged Mutsuki so hard Mutsuki’s barrier was at risk of breaking. Sumire smoothed her tiara, pretending she hadn’t almost unleashed a tsunami.

Kishin wiped sweat. ‘Sensei… we did okay… right?’

Meow clutched her card, whispering, ‘Sensei said he’s proud…’

Kojiro just stared at Youchan and muttered, ‘You were about to kill her.’

She patted his head. ‘Not today.’

Kojiro felt more fondly toward her, but also more threatened at the same time by Youchan’s pleasantly coated murderous aura.

A shaking Mutsuki turned to Youchan slowly.

‘Youchan,’ he whispered with teary eyes.

‘Hm?’

‘You’re right here, yes?’

‘Always,’ she said as she held his hand. Kojiro knew better than to butt in.

He exhaled and smiled as he squeezed her hands back. The misfits crowded around them both in an orderly group hug.

There wasn’t any need to prepare a special corner in the courtyard for the misfit’s chaos and outburst, cause at that moment, it was the most pure, loving, and peaceful space for the whole of Tokyo.