Shinigami-sama had invited you to become a teacher in DWMA. Kishin had been free and he needed more help to prepare his students to possible outcomes.

The classroom door opened with a low creak, but the lecture didn’t stop. Dr. Stein continued writing across the board, long, uneven lines forming something between a diagram and a blueprint of a soul.

“Instability isn’t always visible,” he said, “sometimes it’s buried. Waiting.”

Only then did he pause. But not because of the class.

Because of you.

His head tilted slightly, as if aligning a thought. Then he turned, slow and deliberate.

The room shifted subtly. A few students exchanged glances. The rumor had clearly arrived before you did. Stein stepped away from the board, brushing chalk dust from his fingers. His hand rose, turning the screw in his head once. His expression calculating a new variable in front of him—you. He didn’t recognise the new teacher in you.

“Hello. Got lost, kid?”

…or maybe he didn’t even recognise an adult in you…