I sat down—took my flask out of its drawer—and took a hit. “Damn, I needed that. Oh, I almost forgot.”

  I took my glasses off and laid them on my desk next to my zen plant.

  “Who does that brat think he is, and how did he know I was talking about killing someone?” I looked at the clock. Any minute now, Sakura will be here.

  “And then I will have to deal with that lunatic and her brother complex.” I sighed. I’ve heard about her strength—a monster amongst monsters. If I had to fight her at my age, thirty-nine, there would be no contest. Maybe I’d last a few rounds in my youth, but only a few.

  I took another swig.

  “And who the hell does that brat think he is, holding my hand like that?” I remembered his eyes. Cold, empty, and hungry, like he was going to kill me. “Tsk, me?”

  I shook my flask, noticing its weight—I'd better slow down if this were going to last me for the rest of the day.

  “Why do I have to get my hands dirty?”

  “Hina, kill the kids if you have to,” I muttered, mocking Jade’s usual cold orders. That shit is exhausting. She should try looking at her fucking son after doing that shit.”

  “But he was cute. Uff, fifteen; one more year, when he’s legal, and I would have pushed him down for holding my hand—Junpei be damned.” I took another swig. “Nah, it’s better to let that fruit ripen—more satisfying that way.”

  “Just another reason to keep drinking, ha. Junpei would kill me for even considering this crap, but maybe that’s the point.”

  Someone knocked at the door.

  Until next time, my love. I stowed the flask in my desk and put my glasses on. To ensure I wasn’t discovered, I placed a pot of jasmine tea on the electric heater and let it warm. Also, I quickly chewed some gum.

  “Please come in.”

  ***

  I fixed my hair and tightened my posture. A quick breath check.

  I’m Hina Kamizawa, Principal, a professional. I care that you care.

  Sakura entered the room, wearing a white shirt and black dress pants. Her hair was slightly disheveled, like she’d recently tried to fix it. The left side of her mouth had been bleeding from a recent injury. A fight or dirty dealings?

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Sakura, I’m glad you got our call. As you know—”

  “Where is he—is he okay?” She said, matching my tone but not my demeanor.

  I presented the chair in front of my desk, hoping she would take the hint.

  She walked over to my desk, grabbed the side with one hand, and slid my desk to the far wall.

  I adjusted my glasses.

  I looked at her as her face warped into something truly horrible: she bore fangs, like an animal. Shadows clung to her face as if the shadows had chosen her.

  “Why, you’re quite strong, Ms. Carter. While I understand your frustration, I hope you return my desk to its rightful place before you go. Please note the four impressions on my carpet.”

  She grabbed the chair and moved it closer to mine, then sat down, our knees touching.

  “Ms. Carter, your actions are out of order. Please move my—”

  “Don’t play with me. I know what you are—you're one of Jade's unmarked psychos.”

  I readjusted my glasses. “Ms. Carter, I called you first before informing other parents because of the situation’s severity.”

  She hunched over so I couldn’t see her eyes.

  A cold sweat ran down my neck.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Your brother is fine. He’s recovering as we speak.”

  She looked up with worried eyes–the first sign of humanity. I could use her relationship to devastate the Fan. Not that I hate them, but the Veil has lived in its shadow long enough.

  Contrary to what you may believe, Ms. Carter, I care about the health and well-being of my students. Since Ms. Tsukikage slammed Mr. Carter to protect Mr. Aizawa, Mr. Carter has been recovering in the infirmary.

  She stood up, knocking the chair over. Her malice succumbed to the apprehension of a mother or lover. I did all I could to hold back a smile.

  “Yes, Ms. Carter. Did Miss. Nakamura provide you with all the details?" She shook her head. "Nonetheless, Mr. Junpei has taken care of him.”

  Her body, her nerve, and her will to fight were shattered. Why not have one tool dispatch the other? Without a successor, the Fan would fall.

  She stood up to leave.

  “Before you go, Ms. Carter, my desk, please.”

  “Uh, right,” she mumbled.

  I watched as she begrudgingly dragged my desk back to its rightful place. Once it was there, I made sure it fit perfectly in each impression.

  The kettle whistled its success.

  “Tea, Ms. Carter?”

  “I-I don’t want any, thanks.”

  “I understand. Your brother is on the first floor; just follow the signs to the infirmary. However, I believe Ms. Tsukikage is visiting right now.”

  Panic flickered in her eyes.

  She rushed out of my office.

  I listened to the sound of her rapid footsteps echo off into the distance.

  “White shirt and black dress pants are what initiates wear.”

  I placed my flask back in the drawer. A map of Kokiri, of its politically divided regions, reminded me of the painful truth: No matter where we lie, we are in the Fan’s court.

  “Goodbye, my love.” I placed my flask and closed my drawer.

  I opened the drawer again, removed the flask, and kissed the rim.