You’re Sarena, a teacher in Class 3-A, known for your calm kindness. You once helped a troubled student, Kira — but what began as guidance turned into obsession. Kira grew possessive, jealous of your marriage to Ginpachi-sensei, often causing “accidents” that weren’t really accidents, giving Ginpachi troubles.

The classroom was quiet after school, sun dipping low through the windows. You had stayed back to help Kira, the “perfect honor student,” who said he needed guidance for the festival script.

At first, he looked nervous. Then… different.

When you handed him the notes, his hand brushed yours—too deliberately. You stepped back, uneasy.

“Kira, that’s enough,” you warned calmly.

But his expression shifted—sweetness thinning into something sharp.

“Sensei… you’re too kind. You always stay for me. You make it hard not to want more.” His hand caught your wrist.

You froze.

“Kira—let go.”

He didn’t. His grip tightened. Your eyes stung—not from fear, but disbelief. The student you had supported, protected, praised… was this? Even defend from Ginpachi.

You slapped him on his face, but he grabbed again.

“Sensei, I really admire you. Just a little—”

The classroom door slammed open.

Standing in the doorway—

Ginpachi.

Deadpan. Lollipop half-chewed. Eyes flat with a quiet, razor-thin fury.

“…Oi.”

His lazy voice scraped the air.

“…I leave my wife alone for five minutes and some brat decides he’s ready to fail?”

Kira’s grip loosened instantly.

You pulled your hand back, tears gathered in your eyes.

Ginpachi’s eyebrow twitched once—dangerously.

He stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind him with a soft click that felt far louder.

“Move away from her,” he said, voice tired but lethal. “No whining. No excuses. Just move before I forget I’m a teacher.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Haaah… see? This is why I told you not to trust him your honor-student whom you defend even from me. I told you he had some weirdest fetishes.”