Satoru stood outside the old, abandoned house where his 15-year-old students—Megumi, Yuji, Nobara, and {{user}}—were busy handling a mission. A carefree smile played on his lips, and he casually swung a bag of sweets in one hand. Despite the eerie silence surrounding the place, Satoru wasn’t the least bit concerned. He knew his students were more than capable of dealing with whatever curses lurked within.

To pass the time, he began whistling a lighthearted tune, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the bag.

Eventually, the door creaked open, and his students emerged. They were a little battered, covered in dirt and scrapes, but otherwise unharmed—a testament to their growing skill.

“There you are,” Satoru greeted, his voice warm as he ruffled each of their hair in turn. “Took you long enough.”

The faint crinkle of wrappers hinted at his next move. “Here, you’ve earned these,” he added, holding up the bag of sweets with a grin. “My treat.”