In the darkness of night, the sudden roar of an engine cut through the silence. The closer it got, the more deafening it became until a clearly expensive sports car pulled up to the luxury apartment complex.
The door swung open, and out stepped a stunning woman with an alluring, mature presence. Her sleek, jet-black hair shimmered under the streetlights, perfectly matching her equally intense obsidian eyes. Her voluptuous figure exuded confidence and elegance.
She walked up to the intercom and spoke briefly with someone. The gate opened. She made her way to the elevator and ascended to the fifteenth floor.
When the doors parted, a girl was already waiting outside.
"Thanks, Yukino."
The beauty gave a little wave to Yukinoshita Yukino before heading down the hallway. She stopped at one of the doors, tapped a few digits into the electronic lock, and with a crisp click, the door unlocked clearly, she knew the code.
Bang!
With one fierce kick, the door blasted open. The violent noise didn't seem to startle the person inside. At the end of the hallway, someone sat on the couch, wearing headphones, facing away from the door, completely absorbed in a video game.
The woman grinned, her lips curling into a sharp smirk. Her eyes turned predatory, wild like a beast preparing to pounce. With a powerful step forward, she launched herself down the hallway with force that could rival any muscular man.
"Killing intent...!!"
The boy playing the game Yoru Moonshadow felt a chill crawl up his spine. His eyelid twitched uncontrollably. He was all too familiar with this kind of bloodlust. He'd once lived under that gaze, like prey constantly watched by a predator.
Almost instinctively, he dropped his controller and spun around just in time to catch a poised hand slicing toward his head like a knife. He grabbed the attacker's wrist mid-strike. The skin was soft, but the tension in the muscles told him this wasn't just for show.
Smack!
A second hand, claw-like and fierce, came in from the side. He reacted on reflex, his palm meeting hers with a resounding clap, fingers locking in mid-air.
"Well well. Not bad at all. Disappeared for a while off training somewhere, Moonshadow?"
The voice came from the attacker, the same voluptuous beauty who now wore a smile so gentle it felt terrifying.
"Can't complain. But breaking into a student's apartment without permission... isn't exactly appropriate, is it, Miss Hiratsuka?"
As he spoke, Yoru's arms pushed forward with force. She resisted equally, the two of them locked in a battle of brute strength like two bulls ready to charge.
Miss Hiratsuka, full name Shizuka Hiratsuka, was a Japanese literature teacher at Sobu High School. She wasn't technically assigned to Yoru's class, but she also served as the student life guidance counselor because in the eyes of the school, Yoru was a "problem child" in desperate need of direction.
Every morning, when he inevitably arrived late, he'd try sneaking in through any entrance that might avoid the school's disciplinary squad. And every time, Hiratsuka ambushed him. Their "bonding" sessions always ended with her beating some "love and discipline" into him.
At first, he couldn't fight back. But eventually, he began resisting. And ever since then, every encounter between the two was less of a lecture and more of a full-blown brawl.
To date, Yoru was sitting on a perfect record of defeats.
They were part teacher-student, part sparring partners, part... mortal enemies who cared just a little too much.
Thud!
Their foreheads slammed together.
Then, Yoru's hand slid from her wrist down under her arm, aiming straight for her chest specifically, the buttons on her blouse that looked on the verge of bursting.
"Pervert."
Just as his hand was about to reach its goal, she stopped him cold, gripping his arm with overwhelming strength and a contemptuous smirk.
Then she unleashed brute force that would shame most bodybuilders. She swung his arms up with such might that his body left the ground, flipping him backward for a suplex throw.
Crash!
The sound was loud enough to startle Yukino in the hallway.
Wow. That sounded bad. If she hadn't known better, she'd think the teacher was physically abusing her student.
Of course, if she'd seen them fight before, she'd realize this was actually pretty tame.
Miss Hiratsuka knew Yoru well. She could tell by touch that his injuries weren't too serious, which is why she didn't hold back much.
But what made her truly angry wasn't his injuries it was that he'd vanished for so long without a single word, and only returned battered and bruised. She didn't just see him as a student anymore. He was... someone important to her. And his sudden disappearance had left a hollow place.
When he came back, he didn't even tell her. It was Yukino who broke the news. Hiratsuka had long known the two lived across the hall from each other, so she had told Yukino to inform her when he returned.
"So? You little punk, now you're "
Before she could finish, Yoru suddenly went berserk, struggling so violently that Hiratsuka had no choice but to let go or risk dislocating his arms.
She let go.
Immediately, she felt something primal surge from him. Like a beast awakening. In that moment, Yoru transformed from a sheep into a bloodthirsty predator.
She somersaulted back.
Boom!
His fist crashed down where she'd just been, slamming into the wooden floor like a hammer. The impact splintered the wood and sent blood spraying from his knuckles.
Then she saw his eyes usually lazy, careless, and a bit childish. Now they were filled with violence and death, like a monster lurking in the shadows.
And he lunged.
Bang! Crack! Slam! Clatter!
The apartment shook as if hit by a storm. Furniture overturned, shelves crashed to the floor. The living room turned into a battlefield.
They weren't teacher and student anymore. They were gladiators in a life-or-death fight.
Hiratsuka broke out in cold sweat.
This... was not the same mischievous student she once knew.
These attacks they were real. Lethal. Every move was sharp, practiced, born from real combat.
What happened to this kid?
Clink!
Yoru looked down at the shard of broken glass in his hand, dazed. It dropped to the floor with a faint clatter.
"Jeez, calm down. What, did I scare you? You old witch."
He scratched his head and grinned, though the grin looked more like a twitching mask than a smile. If he had a mirror, he'd see how forced it really was.
"Old witch?"
Miss Hiratsuka's voice dropped cold and low, thick with fury. But the rage wasn't because of his comment it was because he was clearly hiding something. Something deep. Painful.
Her fist clenched so hard her nails dug into her palms.
In a flash, she was in his face. Normally, this would be followed by a punch that'd send Yoru flying, screaming in pain.
But this time, she stopped. And instead, pulled him into a tight embrace.
PTSD
The term echoed in her mind.
Post-traumatic stress disorder triggered by experiencing or witnessing life-threatening events, serious injury, or overwhelming trauma. The symptoms often emerge later, taking root quietly, then exploding.
Yoru... might be suffering from this.
"Mmmf mmmf!! (Let go already!)"
Buried face-first in something soft and suffocating, Yoru flailed helplessly, gasping for air. He tried to push her away, but her grip only tightened. This woman had freakish strength.
Finally, he reached for the only escape he could think of.
His hand found something round, firm, and impossibly springy. It felt like his palm might bounce off it.
Mmph!
She squeezed tighter, to the point his neck felt like it might snap. This woman... was going to kill him!
His lungs screamed. He could feel consciousness slipping away.
Then, in a final act of desperate survival, his flailing hand accidentally brushed across... something.
A small, startled squeak escaped.
And so, the Demon King who once conquered ninety-nine parallel worlds suffered his third defeat to his teacher's chest.