Chapter 245 — A Modern Japanese Teacher

Kei, completely unaware of the danger, simply smiled on his end of the line.

“Sensei? You went quiet again. You’re not angry, are you?”

“…No. Not yet.” Hiratsuka exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Wait—let me take this outside first. Talking to you stresses me out. I need a smoke break.”

Grabbing her lighter from the desk, she stood up and headed toward the balcony, cigarette pack in hand.

“Then I don’t want to keep you occupied, Sensei—”

“If you hang up right now, I swear to God, I’ll go to your place myself. Don’t test me, kid,” she said coldly.

“…”

Sliding the door open, a chill wind swept over her face, the winter air of Tokyo biting but refreshing.

Her apartment was far from the city’s busy traffic, so even here, the night air felt almost clean.

She pulled out a Seven Stars cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag.

“Fuuuuuh~” She let out a long sigh, smoke curling into the cold air.

Feeling a bit calmer, she finally spoke again.

“Alright, then—how is it?”

“Sensei, aren’t you my Modern Japanese teacher? Why are you even asking me this?” Kei asked from the other side, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement.

“Yeah, but I’m also your club advisor, your guidance counselor, and sometimes even a substitute for other teachers,” Hiratsuka replied dryly. “So yes, I do have some responsibility to ask you.”

“Well, that makes me wonde—”

“Aoki.” Her tone sharpened instantly. “You’re trying to change the subject again.”

“…” Kei fell silent for a beat before Hiratsuka’s voice cut through once more.

“Sigh…” Hiratsuka took a long drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the night air. She leaned back in her chair on the veranda before finally speaking.

“Well, I know I don’t really have the right to say this,” she began, exhaling a thin stream of smoke, “but I do think the way you handle things is… admirable.”

Her voice softened slightly. “From what I can tell, you’re doing a damn good job holding yourself together. Living alone in Tokyo, keeping up your grades, balancing everything—even with that insane schedule of yours.”

A small chuckle escaped her lips. “Honestly, I should probably ask you to teach me a thing or two about how you do it.”

“Then it’s fine—” Kei started.

“But that’s the bad part,” she interrupted firmly. “You shouldn’t feel fine.”

Her eyes drifted toward the city skyline—Tokyo’s night lights blinking faintly beneath the clouds. “I bet half the reason you ‘forget’ to check your phone is because you’re avoiding looking at your problems. You probably tell yourself you’re just too busy… but really, who are you trying to fool here?”

Kei fell silent on the other end. He couldn’t deny it.

Every word she said hit too close to home.

Seeing that he wasn’t responding, Hiratsuka sighed again a trace of guilt flickering across her expression.

“Well… it’s not like running away from your problems isn’t always a bad thing either. Sometimes you need distance yourself making some time to breathe and figure things out.”

She took another slow puff, her tone turning serious once more.

“But from what I can see, you’re still running, Aoki. Even that song—‘Hikoutei’—it doesn’t sound like acceptance. It sounds like you telling the world to just shut up.”

She blew out a wisp of smoke that disappeared into the cold Tokyo night. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

After a few seconds of silence, Kei finally spoke. “Then… what should I do?”

“Well, that’s something I don’t really know,” Hiratsuka admitted, exhaling softly. “You said it yourself, I’m just a Modern Japanese teacher. What do I know about the world of music? But if you tell me what your plan is, maybe I can give you some advice.”

Kei went quiet again, his voice faint when he finally replied, “I’m still thinking about it. After this, there’s another concert in the UK. Once that’s done, I’m guessing the whole originality controversy will calm down for a while.”

“That’s a decent plan,” Hiratsuka said with a sigh, “but you’re still following your bad habits.”

“What do you mean?” Kei asked, sounding confused.

“Since when is a band just an ‘I’?” she said, her tone firm yet tired.

She took one last drag of her cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray beside her.

“Listen, Aoki,” she continued, her voice softening. “I know you’ve been alone for a long time. You’ve worked hard to get where you are.

You’ve seen the ugly side of adulthood, and maybe that’s made it hard for you to trust others. But I want you to remember something—”

“You can’t always be alone, Aoki. Right now, you might think you’re fine, but if you keep pushing everyone away, one day… you’ll reach your limit.

And when that happens, I’m afraid you’ll make a mistake you can’t take back—one that could cost you something important.”

“…..”

Kei knew she was right. Deep down, he’d always known.

Even when he entered this competition and dragged the others along, he was fully aware—he was forcing them into his battle.

At the end of the day, he was nothing but a burden to everyone around him.

Seeing him remain silent, Hiratsuka’s sharp eyes softened.

“And if you’re thinking that you’re a burden… you’re wrong, Aoki.”

She leaned back against the cold chair on her veranda, the faint hum of Tokyo below echoing through the night.

“You’re a talented person, Aoki. Someone who’s bound to draw attention—both the good kind and the bad.” Her tone carried both pride and concern. “But the people around you now… those girls in your band, they’re there because of who you are.”

“You keep saying you don’t want to be a burden, but listen to me… being cared for doesn’t make you one. Sometimes, letting people stand by you is also a kind of strength.”

Her voice grew softer, almost wistful.

“There are people who want to be in your life, Aoki. People who are willing to share even a small part of your weight. If they didn’t care, they wouldn’t still be standing next to you right now.”