“Hey!” James yelled. Light had flared up in his face, blinding him for a second. When his eyes cleared, someone was pointing an old-style camera with a massive flash at him.

  “Ha-ha, sorry about that! It’s a little dark in here!” the student behind the camera said. He pointed his camera at Suki, but she covered her face with some pamphlets they’d picked up on their wanderings.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I can’t give permission for use of my image.”

  “Aw, don’t worry about that, it’s not for publication!” the student said. He lowered his camera though, so Suki cautiously lowered her own defence. “Look!”

  He dragged James over to a table festooned with a banner saying “Media Club”.

  “Wireless uploads,” he said knowingly, “In case of confiscation. What’s your name?”

  “James St John,” James said. Another student, sitting behind the table, started typing furiously.

  “Sakura Yuichiro,” the student replied. “President and Editor of the Media Club.”

  A few moments later, a large sheet of paper came out of the printer. Yuichiro took it and folded it in half before handing it to James.

  “You see?” Yuichiro said.

  James looked at what he’d been given. It was a newspaper, or at least the front page of one. The main headline blared:

  Gaijin Student Council President swept into power! James St John announces a new broom to sweep the old corrupt institution away!

  “Could be punchier,” James commented. Oh, but getting called a gaijin, that never gets old.

  “What do you mean? It’s a great headline! One day we’ll get the dirt on them and they’ll be thrown out.” Yuichiro said. Turning to Suki, he added. “Are you sure you don’t want your own personalised copy? The rest of it is filled with useful information about the club and the school.”

  “I’ll be fine with a copy of James’s,” Suki demurred.

  “So you make the school newspaper?” James asked.

  “Eh. These days, it’s more about the website. But the paper is important! It gives students something to hold, something to talk about.”

  “Sure,” James said mildly. “Is the next edition going to have something about the helicopter that crashed in the main courtyard last week?”

  Suki gave James a look that Yuichiro ignored.

  “Oh? While everyone was away?” he asked. “I’ve heard rumours, but if someone had a first-hand account—” he leaned in close and lowered his voice. “That's the sort of thing they should come and talk to us about in the clubroom. In private.”

  He leaned back. “The paper has all the details about the club you need if you want to come and see us.”

  “Well, maybe,” James said. “I’ll—”

  “Sir, sir, we just heard from the ferry terminal!” Another student had raced up and interrupted him. “He’s here!”

  “Ah,” Yuichiro said. “Sorry, James-san, I’m going to have to cut this short. I need to get to the gates if I’m going to get a picture for the next edition’s cover!”

  “Who is arriving?” Suki asked.

  “Ah, Hatakiyama-sensei. He’s... the music teacher. You’ll learn about him eventually, but… I’ve got to go!” He dashed off, clutching his oversized camera.

  “That was strange,” Suki said. She leaned in closer to James. “I’m not sure Professor Toei would appreciate you talking about the helicopter incident. Those troops worked for the Black Dragons, and any publicity about them would also shine a light on Professor Toei’s organisation.”

  “You think I should help them keep this whole thing a secret?” James asked.

  “I think you should talk with Professor Toei before doing anything you can’t take back.”

  That did make more sense. “I guess,” James agreed, and they started moving down the corridor again. He still wasn’t sure what to think about his destiny as the pilot of the Jade Warrior. Getting ready and throwing himself into this first day of school was helping him take his mind off the craziness that his life had become.

  The craziness of the clubs he was seeing actually helped in that regard.

  They came across Kana, arguing with a student behind a stand belonging to the computer gaming club. Now that he knew what he was looking at, he wondered how he’d ever thought she was human.

  “Your sword is an offence to weapons everywhere,” she was saying. “It has no edge, no weight, and does not even have the strength to stand up to flesh. Flesh! Weakest of all things!”

  “It’s a prop sword,” the kid said. “It’s not supposed to hurt people. That makes it better than a real sword.”

  “Better? You’ve gone mad.”

  “Better,” the student asserted. He brandished the oversized weapon. “If this sword were made out of metal, I couldn’t lift it, let alone wave it around. I couldn’t bring it to school, even on club day! The PMC would take it from me before I got through the gates. But with this…”

  He dashed out from behind the table, yelling to attract the attention of the nearest PMC member. “Your Kung-fu is weak!” he yelled, waving the sword threateningly at the white-clad student.

  The patrolling student just gestured dismissively at the would-be swordsman.

  “You see?” he asked, turning back to Kana. “Not a threat. And a prop sword can do this!”

  He pushed a button on the hilt, causing the runes on the blade to light up.

  “Through the magic of LEDs, it can light up, just like the ones in the video game.”

  “What do you mean… by video game?” Kana asked.

  James moved on. He hadn’t brought any consoles with him; he’d assumed it would be too difficult to get them to work here. He doubted that Mitsue played computer games, so their room might well be game-free for the foreseeable future.

  As James and Suki continued their tour, James kept hearing whispers of “Hatakiyama-sensei”. It was mostly second and third-year students. When first-years said it, it was mostly louder and contained in the phrase, “Who the hell is Hatakiyama-sensei?”

  Older students were starting to slip away, leaving the desks unmanned, or looked after by younger students who didn’t know what they were doing.

  “Should we go see what the fuss is all about?” Suki asked.

  “Yuichiro-san mentioned the front gates, but… I don’t see what the fuss is about. He’s just a very good-looking teacher, right?”

  A second-year girl glared at him in passing as he said that. She looked like she wanted to say something, but just hurried off.

  “That’s what he said, but to provoke such a reaction…” Suki mused. “I wonder if something else is at play.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “We can go look,” James offered. “Let’s stay at the back of the crowd, though.”

  Suki nodded, and they headed out front to where a crowd of students were gathering. To James’s surprise, the crowd wasn’t just comprised of schoolgirls. There were plenty of guys here too, almost all of them standing awkwardly as if they didn’t know why they were here—or didn’t want to admit why they were here.

  The girls were much more open about their anticipation, gathering in small groups to whisper and giggle among themselves. Every so often, one of them would say something that would trigger a high-pitched scream from the group.

  “It’s like we were backstage at a pop music show,” James commented.

  “The Idol club may have some competition,” Suki said. “If we can gather this level of attention, I think we’ll have succeeded.”

  The first sign of something happening was some squeals from the girls closest to the gates. Then the gates were opened by eight PMC squad members. Two of them opened the gates while the other six formed a perimeter that held the students back. James recognised Yoshiki as one of the students in the protective detail.

  Everybody started moving forward at once. The front row, though, hadn’t lost all reason and kept giving the PMC a wide berth. The crowd became more concentrated.

  James heard the deep rumble of a motorbike approaching.

  “No screaming!” Yoshiki shouted, cutting off the first screams as they started. “No one is to act in a shameful manner!”

  The crowd wasn’t cowed, but the first front rows became a little more subdued. Then the motorbike rolled in at a fast walking pace, and James got his first glimpse of Hatakiyama.

  The crowd went wild. Well, as wild as a group of repressed Japanese students under close supervision from teachers gets.

  “He is quite beautiful,” Suki said slowly.

  James had to agree. Hatakiyama was tall, with broad shoulders narrowing to a tight waist. His thick, swept-back black hair contrasted with his piercing blue eyes—

  Wait, James thought. How can I see the colour of his eyes from here?

  It shouldn’t have been possible, but James could see the man’s eyes clearly. Were they just that blue? The teacher’s high cheekbones and long, straight nose lent him a refined look, but his tanned skin and leather riding jacket made him look more masculine.

  James looked back at Suki, who had a slight frown on her face. “You’re not going to throw yourself at his feet, are you?” he joked.

  He was joking, but there was a little too much concern in his voice when he said it. From the look Suki gave him, she must have heard it.

  “No,” she said. “I have you.”

  That gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling. She continued, “And besides, he’s too old for me. What about you?”

  “No way,” James assured her. “He’s pretty and all, but he’s a guy.”

  “That doesn’t seem to have stopped all of these others,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, looking back over the crowd.

  They can’t all be gay, can they? he wondered.

  The crowd had calmed down a little, and the PMC had formed a ring around Hatakiyama, escorting him and his motorbike through the crowd. James looked on, bemused.

  Not everyone was affected, even among those who were here. James recognised the purple hair of Aizawa Kaito. He was mostly looking at the crowd as he wrote in his notebook. The white-clad PMC seemed to be able to maintain its discipline as well. And then there was…

  At first, James thought that Harue had been stricken with whatever was affecting the other students. She was staring at Hatakiyama with enough intensity that James thought he might burst into flames. But she didn’t have the same adoring look that all of the others had. For the first time, Harue was showing an emotion that wasn’t some flavour of sly.

  Not just one emotion either. James saw shock, anger, and worry flow across her face in quick succession. Then she turned on her heel and went back inside.

  “Did you see that?” James asked Suki, but she had been watching Hatakiyama as he headed down a road that hadn’t been included in the tour. The PMC blocked the students from following.

  “Good morning, esteemed faculty, honoured guests, and fellow students. My name is Ogasawara Junko, and it is my privilege to address you today on behalf of the incoming year as we embark on this new chapter of our lives.”

  Seated at the front of the auditorium with the other new students, James tried to look awake. The speeches had hardly started, but he was finding the formal Japanese hard to follow. And, of course, it was extremely boring.

  Something about the acoustics of the room seemed to deaden sound. Junko’s voice was amplified to cut through it, but there was a noticeable lack of the echoes that James was familiar with from every other school assembly he’d attended.

  Possibly because of that, or possibly because the teachers were all on stage and seemed as uninterested in the proceedings as James was, the other students felt comfortable whispering to themselves under the cover of Junko’s speech.

  “As I stand here, I am reminded of the grandeur and prestige of this academy, a place where excellence is not just expected but achieved. To my fellow first-year students, congratulations on making it this far. We are the future leaders, innovators, and visionaries. We come from diverse backgrounds, each bringing unique talents and perspectives. Yet, we are united by our ambition and the desire to make our mark in this world.

  Looking at Harue, seated on the other side of Suki, there was something that James wanted to whisper.

  “I saw you at the gates,” he said softly.

  “You were there as well?” Suki asked.

  Harue chuckled ruefully. “I guess I lost my composure there for a second, didn’t I?” she murmured.

  “For some of us, like myself, the journey here has been one of privilege and opportunity. I am fortunate to come from a family that has provided me with every advantage, and I recognise that this is not the case for everyone.”

  “What was that about?” James asked.

  “That’s… kind of personal,” Harue said.

  “So was my underwear drawer.” He didn’t have any proof that Harue had rummaged through it, but the grin she flashed at him was as good as confirmation.

  “However, let us not forget that regardless of where we come from, we all stand on equal ground here, bound by the same expectations and challenges. This academy offers us the chance to forge our destinies, to rise above mediocrity, and to excel in ways we never thought possible.”

  “Listen,” James whispered. “You want us to trust you with our… thing, when you’re the embodiment of untrustworthiness and Kana eats people. I don’t think it’s out of line to ask about the first real expression I’ve seen you make. Plus, whatever is going on with Hatakiyama-sensei has got half the students losing their minds.”

  He glanced up at the teachers on the stage nervously when he said that. Hatakiyama was sitting there with the rest of them. He was probably as bored as the rest of them, but he made it look like he was in pensive thought.

  That was probably another reason why all the students were whispering to themselves. James had the impression that there were going to be a lot of course changes to music class over the next few days.

  “I urge you all to embrace this opportunity with the fervour and determination it deserves. Let us strive for greatness, not just for ourselves but for the legacy we will leave behind. Let us be the students who inspire those who come after us, who make our families proud, and who honour the esteemed reputation of this academy.”

  “Losing their minds?” Harue repeated. “Oh… I see what you mean. You don’t have to worry about that, it’s a totally normal reaction.”

  “I don’t think it’s normal,” Suki said. “I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

  “In closing, I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to the faculty and staff who have welcomed us with open arms. Your dedication to our success is invaluable, and we are eager to learn and grow under your guidance.”

  “Ugh, fine,” Harue muttered. “I guess it’s going to bother you until I explain it. It’s all quite simple, really.”

  “To the upperclassmen, we look to you for inspiration and mentorship. Your achievements set the standard for us, and we hope to follow in your illustrious footsteps.”

  Harue nodded at the stage. “That’s my future husband,” she said.

  James frowned. Suki was confused as well.

  “I thought you were engaged to… the god of your shrine,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Harue said. “That’s him. That’s the god.”

  It took James a beat to make the connection.

  “What!” he exclaimed. He said it louder than he should have. A lot louder. The auditorium was plunged into silence as everyone looked at him.

  “What I said was,” Junko said from the stage, “We hope to follow in your illustrious footsteps.”

  James froze, feeling himself get redder and redder. Everyone was looking at him.

  “Gaijin, ne?” Junko said condescendingly. There were chuckles and titters all around. James wanted to die. After a brief pause, Junko resumed her speech.

  “Together, let us make this year remarkable. Let us seize every opportunity, overcome every challenge, and strive for excellence in all our endeavours. I am Ogasawara Junko, and I have been your representative for this assembly.”

  She sat down, and the assembly clapped. James still felt that the entire room was looking at him.

  If there is a god right here, can I pray to him to make the floor swallow me and send me to the centre of the Earth? he wondered. He wanted to ask Harue for instructions, but he suspected that would lead to more mockery.

  “How is that… possible?” he asked instead. When Harue had said that she was going to marry a god, he hadn’t believed her when she said he was a physical being. Even when she talked about the sex. Gods weren’t real, were they?

  “I dunno what to tell you,” Harue said. “We don’t keep him locked up or anything. If he wants to leave, he can.”

  “You said, though, it would cause a great calamity if he were to leave,” Suki said.

  “Yeah…” Harue said thoughtfully. “It might still happen, but that was more about him starting a war, or some such thing. But if the God of War wants to become a music teacher, that’s probably fine.”

  “You think it’s… fine?” James said. At the last moment, he remembered to keep his voice down.

  “You seem to be forgetting who works for whom,” Harue said wryly. “Don’t get me wrong, Onee-sama must be furious. That’s gotta be why she sent me here.”

  Another student stepped up to the podium. The next speech was about to begin.

  “To do what?” Suki asked. “Bring him back?”

  “I can’t make him do anything,” Harue said. “I guess she wants me to keep an eye on things.”

  “Welcome to Aramara Academy, incoming first-years, the student said. “I have the honour of being Shibasaki Asako, vice president of the Student Council. I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting year.”