Though he wanted to go back for a friendly chat with the students, the bell signaling class end rang halfway there.
Honestly, even Hero Academy wasn’t much different from regular schools—forty-minute classes, ten-minute breaks. Only the lessons set it apart. With ten minutes spare, Empty City decided to report today’s events to Night Zero first. Of course, for his sake and Estia’s, he wouldn’t mention that incident.
“Night Zero’s office is on the third floor, right...”
“Found it.”
Spotting the door label, Empty City located Night Zero’s office. He’d seen Hamlet outside—the guy who’d always disliked him—but had zero intention of acknowledging him.
Inside, Night Zero was nowhere. Figuring it was just after class, Empty City waited.
“Hey...”
“...”
He casually took a seat.
“Hey... hey...”
“Ugh, so slow. Is Night Zero like my old homeroom teacher, dragging out class?”
“HEY! I’m calling you! Can’t you hear me?!”
Empty City spun his chair abruptly, facing the shouter.
Thud.
His move was so fast, anyone normal would flinch back at that range. Hamlet overdid it—he landed flat on his butt.
Slim, glasses-wearing, chatty, and obsessed with Night Zero.
Those were Empty City’s few impressions. Ignoring the first three, the last one was why he avoided Hamlet—though he didn’t know why.
“Calling me?”
“Obviously. Who else is here?”
Empty City glanced around calmly. Only two people in the office.
Hamlet stood up, cursing, rubbing his sore butt.
“Oh? So what do you want?”
Bored, Empty City snatched a newspaper from Hamlet’s hand—the school paper.
“Don’t think the principal’s approval lets you run wild here.”
“...”
“Speechless? Don’t get cozy with Night Zero-chan just ‘cause she introduced you!”
If Empty City had looked up, he’d have marveled at how Hamlet could hype himself up alone, body twisting with every word. But Empty City ignored him—not over the rant, but because someone in the paper had hooked his attention.
Dated six months back.
Around the academy’s class tournament. Empty City skimmed the details, but his focus was the girl on the winner’s podium, trophy in hand, beaming with her students.
His finger involuntarily traced her cheek in the photo...
*Thank you... Night Zero.*
He looked up again.
“Done talking?”
“Yeah. Wait—!”
Seeing Empty City leave, Hamlet blocked him.
“Oh, right—one question.”
“Hm?”
“Which class does Night Zero teach?”
“Second-year Class A. Second floor.”
“Thanks!”
Empty City waved and strode off, leaving a stunned Hamlet.
“HEY! WAIT!”
Far away, Empty City didn’t catch the shouts. Since waiting in the office failed, he’d wait in the classroom.
Second-year Class A...
“You mean Teacher Night Zero? She left mid-class, said she felt sick, went to the infirmary. Something wrong?”
*Infirmary?* The word pricked Empty City’s mind.
“Nothing. Thanks anyway.”
He smiled at the helpful student, then turned sharply—his expression hardened.
Infirmary? Night Zero wasn’t actually sick; this morning’s excuse was just to escape the students. But leaving for the infirmary midway... that nagged at him.
*Could it be...*
A premonition tightened in his chest.
*...Probably won’t bump into her by chance.*
He’d rest in his second-floor office, sort it out at lunch.
Then—a flash of crimson caught his eye.
Like a squirrel spotting him and bolting, she hurried past, head down.
Instinctively, Empty City turned and grabbed her wrist.
“Night Zero...”
He called out but choked on words.
“What?”
“Uh... is it true you’re unwell?”
“Ah, that? Just slacking off. Lied to the students.”
Night Zero showed no discomfort, no explanation for walking past him silently. She turned back calmly, smiling lightly.
“Oh... slacking’s fine. But if you’re really sick, tell me.”
“Mhm, I will. Gotta go—skipped one class, can’t skip the next.”
She playfully stuck out her tongue, slipped free, and vanished. Empty City stood frozen, mute.
She smiled. She acted cute...
But... do you know your eyes avoid mine when you lie?
Watching her retreating figure, Empty City sank into thought.
