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ArabicAnime Crossover: Eating Evil in a Daily World — Chapter 2
Chapter 2: The Battle for the Seat
Five minutes later, inside the faculty office.
Hiratsuka Shizuka sat behind her desk, her brows knit together in a tight frown. She stared back and forth between Yozora and Yotsuya Miko, her expression laced with heavy suspicion.
‘Just a sprained ankle, and you helped her? Is it really that simple? Then why was she crying like the world was ending?’
Miko sat frozen in the guest chair. She had already scrubbed the tear tracks from her cheeks with a crumpled tissue, but her golden eyes remained glazed over in a lingering trance. It took Shizuka repeating her question a second time for the girl to finally snap back to reality.
“Um… it is because the sprain hurt so much, Teacher. I am sorry for making you misunderstand.”
“Is that really it?”
Miko nodded her head frantically, bobbing up and down like a chicken pecking at scattered rice.
“Yes, yes, it is the absolute truth.”
Miko was not stupid. She knew perfectly well that if she told the actual truth—that a grotesque, towering monstrosity had nearly devoured her in the hallway before the boy sitting next to her casually ripped it apart and ate it—her new homeroom teacher would lock her in a padded room. She would be branded as a delusional problem student on her very first day of high school. She absolutely refused to leave that kind of impression.
“In that case, you should head to the classroom first. Or do you need me to find someone to carry you to the infirmary?”
Hearing the offer, Miko waved her hands in a panic, forcing a stiff, unnatural smile onto her face.
“Thank you for your concern, Teacher, but I am feeling much better now.”
Without waiting for a response, she shot up from her chair and practically fled the office.
Watching Miko’s retreating back disappear through the sliding door, a meaningful glint flashed through Shizuka’s eyes. She let out a long, exhausted sigh, rubbing her temples before turning her attention to the boy still sitting casually across from her. She reached onto her desk and picked up a polished peach wood dagger.
“Care to explain what this is?”
“A decorative accessory,” Yozora replied without missing a beat.
Shizuka’s frown deepened. Her slender fingers tapped against the surprisingly sharp tip of the wooden blade.
“Setting aside the obvious danger of carrying this around…” She set the dagger down and picked up a massive, heavy silver nail, shaking it in front of his face. “This is unquestionably a prohibited weapon. Why on earth did you bring this to school?”
“Self-defense.”
“Self-defense against what? This is a high school, not a warzone. Both the dagger and the nail are confiscated.”
Shizuka opened her desk drawer and unceremoniously dropped the lethal exorcism tools inside. After a brief moment of hesitation, she picked up a stack of cheap paper talismans covered in crooked, pixelated runic fonts and handed them back across the desk.
“These do not violate any safety regulations. You can keep them.”
“Much appreciated, Teacher.”
Yozora accepted the papers with a blank expression. ‘You confiscate the only two items capable of killing a Grade-A curse, but you give me back the useless toilet paper.’
Despite his internal complaints, he carefully folded the talismans and tucked them into his shirt pocket. He fully intended to track down that scammer at the shrine stall later and demand a full refund.
“By the way…” Shizuka paused, her curiosity finally getting the better of her professional demeanor. “Are talismans these days mass-produced on printers? Do they even work?”
Yozora nodded, his tone perfectly flat and nonchalant.
“You have to keep up with the times, Teacher. The printer ink was fully consecrated by a high priest.”
“I see.” Shizuka nodded slowly, clearly not believing a single word. “Just go back to your classroom.”
“Sure thing.”
The moment the office door clicked shut behind Yozora, another voice drifted across the room.
“Shizuka, you are far too lenient with your students.”
The speaker was another female teacher sitting at the adjacent desk. She wore a pristine professional suit skirt paired with sheer black stockings and sharp high heels. Her long, cherry-pink hair framed a face that was strikingly beautiful but entirely devoid of warmth.
“Letting them mess around and lie to your face on the first day of term… what will happen to their futures if you allow this behavior to continue?”
Shizuka picked up her mug of lukewarm coffee and took a sip, waving her free hand dismissively.
“It does not matter. Neither of them wanted to talk about what really happened, so pressing the issue will only push them away. Just let them be.”
Kirisu Mafuyu did not raise her voice, but her calm, measured tone delivered a devastating strike.
“Are you simply worried that if you dig too deep and uncover a story of young, innocent romance between a boy and a girl, your fragile heart will suffer a total breakdown?”
Shizuka choked on her coffee and threw a frustrated punch at the empty air.
“You have a lot of nerve talking down to me. Are you not also an aging, single woman?”
“I am fundamentally different from you.” Mafuyu adjusted her posture, her expression remaining perfectly composed and icy. “I have long since decided to dedicate my entire heart and soul to the proper guidance of my students. This is my sacred duty as an educator.”
Shizuka rolled her eyes so hard they nearly stuck in the back of her head.
“My teaching philosophy is just different from yours. Forget it, let us drop the subject.”
As a colleague and a close friend, Shizuka knew Mafuyu’s rigid personality all too well. The pink-haired woman was an incredibly responsible teacher. Even if it completely contradicted a student’s personal desires, she would forcefully guide them toward a path where their natural talents could be fully realized.
Shizuka operated on a completely different wavelength. To her, academic grades were secondary. As long as her students could learn something valuable during their three years of high school and graduate as psychologically and physically healthy adults, she considered her job a success.
Thinking of that standard, she glanced down at the drawer containing the confiscated weapons, a complex shadow crossing her face.
‘That boy’s mental state… carrying weapons and spouting nonsense about consecrated printer ink. I will definitely need to schedule some private counseling sessions for him.’
Meanwhile, down the hall.
The moment Yozora stepped through the sliding door of the Class A classroom, the lively chatter of students grouped around their desks instantly died down.
“Is he in our class too?”
“He is actually really handsome.”
“Should I go strike up a conversation and get his contact info?”
“No need to rush. We are in the same class, so there will be plenty of opportunities to talk to him later.”
Yozora’s physical appearance was highly striking. Standing at just over one point eight meters tall, his posture and sharp features naturally drew the attention of the room.
Sitting near the middle of the class, Yotsuya Miko physically flinched the second he walked through the door. She hugged her shoulders, a cold tremor running through her body.
Her terrified reaction was entirely justified.
The grotesque scene that had unfolded in the abandoned activity room earlier had left a deep, traumatic brand on her psyche.
Evil Spirits were supposed to be the ultimate predators. Yet, she had watched one cower in absolute terror before a human.
And that human had actually torn the entity apart and consumed it like a casual afternoon snack.
Judging by his bored, practiced movements at the time, it clearly had not been his first meal.
A morbid curiosity burned in the back of Miko’s mind, but surrounded by dozens of normal, oblivious classmates, she obviously could not walk up and ask him how ghosts tasted.
Yozora ignored the whispers and swept his gaze across the classroom, spotting several highly familiar faces in the crowd.
That was to be expected. He was a transmigrator.
This reality was a chaotic fusion of various slice-of-life anime worlds. When he first arrived, Yozora had genuinely believed he could enjoy a peaceful, relaxing daily life surrounded by beautiful girls.
The good news was that the beautiful girls were definitely real.
The bad news was that Yotsuya Miko was sitting right there, which meant the horrifying, invisible Evil Spirits from her universe had also been flawlessly integrated into the world.
“So sleepy.”
Yozora let out a long, lazy yawn. Without a second thought, he bypassed the front rows and walked straight toward the absolute back corner of the classroom, aiming for the legendary seat right next to the window.
Just as he dropped his heavy bag onto the wooden desk, a girl with long, perfectly straight black hair stepped up from the opposite side. She reached out, placing her slender, porcelain-white fingers firmly onto the backrest of the chair.
Their gazes collided in the dead air between them.
The girl spoke, her voice as cool and ethereal as winter frost.
“I chose this seat first.”
Yozora did not back down a single inch. He offered a faint, unapologetic smile.
“I already put my bag down.”
“You are entirely capable of picking your bag back up.”
“And you are entirely capable of taking your hand off my chair.”
Seeing the two of them locked in a freezing standoff, a cute girl with bright, shoulder-length hair tied into a loose dango bun hurried over. Dressed in a slightly customized uniform that gave off a gentle gyaru vibe, she waved her hands nervously, her voice soft and pleading.
“Um, you two, it is just a seat. There is really no need to argue over it, right?”
“That is where you are completely wrong.”
Yozora shifted his gaze to the dango-haired girl, his expression turning dead serious.
“I can see that you do not understand the sheer gold content of this specific seat at all.”