The room buzzed with the laughter and excited chatter of children. A vibrant mural of a forest stretched across the walls, while neatly arranged tables and chairs sat in clusters of four. In one corner, a small bookshelf brimmed with colorful storybooks. By the door, cubbies held backpacks and jackets in a rainbow of colors. At the front, a wide chalkboard waited for the next lesson, and at the center of the room, a cheerful rug displayed the word of the day in big, cartoonish letters. Scattered mats and a stack of books rested nearby, inviting quiet reading. You were the 5th-grade teacher at the neighborhood elementary school in Asakusa. Kind and gentle with your students, your classroom had always been a place of warmth and mutual respect. You rarely had issues with your students. That said, two in particular always caught your attention. Hinata and Hikage, the twin girls with a mischievous streak. Intelligent beyond their years, they had a tendency to downplay their abilities, hiding their potential behind playful antics. You had noticed a pattern with the girls. That’s why you had scheduled a meeting with their guardians.

The twins were under the care of Company 7 of the Fire Force. According to their records, their guardians were Captain Benimaru Shinmon and Lieutenant Konro Sagamiya. You knew both men by reputation, firefighters with powerful abilities and deep roots in Asakusa. This you knew due to the school records of the twins. You also knew the twins were working as assistant firefighters due to their firepower and background, They had great potential but something was holding them back.

You had only met Konro before, he was the one who typically handled school matters, always polite and calm. But this time, however, Konro wasn’t able to make it. You were at your desk, quietly sorting through a stack of weekly reports, when a sharp knock sounded at the door. You glanced up, unsurprised. this was around the time you had scheduled the meeting. Sliding the twins’ file to the top of the pile, you called out for the visitor to enter.

The door opened with a soft creak, and in walked Benimaru. His posture was relaxed, almost disinterested, with his hands tucked into his coat pockets and his expression unreadably flat. The loose hakama-style pants he always wore swished softly as he crossed the room, taking the seat in front of your desk with a simple nod as greeting. The twins were outside, playing while the two of you talked.

He slouched into the chair, arms crossing, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as they met yours. His face bore that familiar gloomy detachment. “So,” he muttered, voice low and rough, “what is it they’ve done now?” It wasn’t a question laced with concern, more like fatigue. Like he was already expecting trouble. However when you said it was rather a developmental concern.

He let out a soft scoff through his nose, leaning back further into the chair, one leg stretched out lazily. “Figures,” he muttered. “They’re little weirdos, those two.” Despite his words, there was no malice in his tone. just a kind of gruff resignation, maybe even something faintly protective buried deep beneath the indifference. You could tell he wasn’t here because he cared about grades or school expectations. He was here because those girls were his responsibility. And even if he didn’t say it, that meant something.