Chapter Text
“So how do you feel?” asked a scruffy man in black robes¹, his voice casual as he addressed the man in front of him. He looked like someone who could easily pass as a local wandering the streets of Hong Kong—maybe a little worse off than average, maybe a little rough around the edges. The robes might earn a second glance, but otherwise there was nothing especially remarkable about him.
The man he was speaking to, however, was more eye-catching by comparison. He wore an oversized black coat, a black cap pulled low, and dark sunglasses that hid his eyes. Somewhere in his thirties or forties, perhaps. He sat with an air of calm authority, stroking his chin and nodding thoughtfully at the question, the cool blue glow of the night reflecting off his lenses like distant city lights.
For all their questionable fashion choices, the two looked perfectly ordinary. Nothing about their posture or mannerisms suggested anything unusual. They spoke like acquaintances, maybe even friends. They talked, exchanged stories, laughed, cried, or got angry.
Like everyday people.
And like people, they each had something that made them unmistakably themselves.
Such as the fact that the robed man carried a large scythe at his side.
And that the man in the oversized coat was sitting in midair.
The man in the coat shifted, easing himself into a reclining position, looking thoroughly unbothered by the laws of gravity.
For he is, in fact, a ghost.
“Honestly,” he said, “being a ghost is a lot more boring if you have better moral standards than a politician.” The admission came easily now that the truth was out. “Sure, I can float around, scare a few people if I really feel like it. But mostly you just sit there, miserable, killing time while you wait to get exorcised, or for some middle-aged grim reaper who doesn’t even look grim or reap enough for the job to come claim your soul.”
The robed man twitched at that, irritation flickering across his face, but the man in the dark coat cut him off before he could speak.
“Still, ironic as it is to be an exorcist turned ghost, I don’t regret it one bit. Kwan is safe. The Lees are a hundred percent guaranteed to end up in hell for being idiots. And Kwan gets to become the next successor to the path of exorcism.”
“Leon,” the robed man said flatly, “you do realize she’s in a mental institution.”
Leon waved it away without a second thought. “That’s just the first step to becoming an exorcist like me. Nothing wrong with that.” He spread his arms and legs wider, drifting aimlessly as if he were floating in water. “Besides, if society can’t accept the existence of the unreal, then let her stay there. Let her do her job without the ignorant masses breathing down her neck. She’ll have familiar faces from last night for company, free housing, and she can come and go whenever she wants. It’s not like anyone there can stop her.”
The man with the scythe just sighed "Are all exorcists deranged idiots like you?"
It was less of a question and more outright slander toward the exorcist. But Leon couldn't have cared less.
He responded, his tone becoming oddly thoughtful. "Well, when you're the only person in your community who can fight spirits, you tend to get some special treatment from the masses." He made air quotes with his fingers, somehow making the gesture look both sarcastic and melancholic at the same time.
Leon floated upright, then dropped to the ground with a soft thud. He brushed off his coat and began walking past the robed man, waving dismissively over his shoulder.
"Speaking of which, I need to go back to that place and check on my discip—ACK!"
The robed man suddenly lunged forward with the speed of a striking viper and grabbed Leon by the collar, yanking him backward and locking him into a brutal headlock. Leon's feet lifted off the ground as he was hoisted like a misbehaving cat being dragged to the vet.
"You are not going anywhere!" the Grim Reaper growled, tightening his grip around Leon's neck like a boa constrictor who'd skipped lunch. His voice was strained, filled with the kind of exhausted fury that only came from dealing with the same problem over and over again. "Do you have any idea how much paperwork you caused me last time?! The damage to my reputation?!"
Leon wheezed, clawing uselessly at the arm around his throat. "You're a grim reaper—you don't have a good image—ACK!"
"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!" The reaper yanked harder, nearly lifting Leon completely off the ground like a trophy fish. "My supervisor thinks I'm incompetent now! They docked my pay! AGAIN! Do you know how little grim reapers make?! I'm basically working minimum wage for the afterlife!"
"That sounds like a you proble–ghhk!"
"IT'S A ME PROBLEM BECAUSE YOU KEEP MAKING IT WORSE!"
Leon thrashed in his grip, his legs kicking uselessly in the air like a disgruntled toddler. In a desperate move, he reached back and grabbed a fistful of the reaper's robes, yanking hard enough to pull the man off balance.
The two of them stumbled sideways in a graceless tangle of limbs, looking less like supernatural beings and more like two drunk uncles fighting at a wedding.
The reaper released the headlock just long enough to shove Leon away, only for Leon to grab his scythe and use it as leverage to swing himself around like some kind of deranged gymnast. His foot caught the reaper square in the chest with a solid thump.
The reaper staggered backward and crashed into a nearby trash can with a loud CLANG. The lid popped off and rolled down the alley like a defeated wheel, spinning dramatically before toppling over with a pitiful clatter.
Leon landed in a crouch, dusting off his coat with an air of smug satisfaction. "You're getting slow, old man."
"I'M ONLY FIVE HUNDRED!" the reaper roared, scrambling to his feet, dropping the scythe and swinging his fist in a quick, furious arc.
Leon ducked under it with barely an inch to spare, the fist whistling over his head and it hit a nearby wall causing it to crack.
"That's still old!" Leon shouted, grabbing a nearby cardboard box and hurling it at the reaper's face like a discus thrower going for gold.
The reaper batted it aside with his free hand, picking up his scythe and advancing again, eyes blazing with fury. "You know what? I don't care anymore. I'm dragging you to the underworld right now!"
"Good luck with that!" Leon vaulted over a stack of crates with surprising agility, using his ghostly nature to phase halfway through a wall before solidifying again on the other side.
He felt something cold and vice-like clamp around his ankle.
Leon looked down.
The reaper's hand had phased through the wall and grabbed his leg.
"Wait—"
The reaper yanked him back through the wall like he was reeling in a fishing line, and Leon's face met the pavement with a dull, meaty SMACK.
Stars exploded behind his eyes. His sunglasses skittered across the ground.
Leon groaned, tasting the concrete despite being a ghost. "...Ow."
Leon twisted, coiling his body like a spring, and kicked forward with his free leg.
DING
The Reaper's eyes went wide. His mouth opened in a silent, strangled gasp. His grip on Leon's ankle loosened immediately as both hands flew down to clutch his crotch. Gasping in pure agonizing pain.
Leon scrambled to his feet and lunged at the man with his ghostly fist.
The reaper, still doubled over in agony, swung wildly in retaliation.
Leon's fist connected with the reaper's jaw. The reaper's elbow caught Leon in the ribs. They grappled, trading blows like two street brawlers with zero technique but full of power
Leon grabbed the reaper's robes and tried to throw him to the side. The reaper hooked his leg behind Leon's knee and swept him to the ground. They hit the pavement hard and immediately started rolling, locked together like a steamroller made out of middle-aged men.
They crashed into a pile of trash bags.
They bounced off a dumpster.
They knocked over a recycling bin, scattering empty bottles everywhere.
At one point, Leon managed to get on top, pinning the reaper's shoulders. The reaper responded by headbutting him square in the nose.
They rolled again, slamming into the alley wall with enough force to rattle the nearby windows.
SQUEAK
Both of them froze mid-scuffle, fists still raised, heads snapping toward the source of the noise.
At the mouth of the alley sat a man² in a wheelchair. His arms and legs were wrapped in bandages, his face bruised and swollen.
The man's gaze locked onto Leon.
Leon stared back at him.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then the man's eyes went wide as recognition dawned on his face like a sunrise made of pure, unfiltered terror.
The man let out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed through the alley like a siren. He started frantically wheeling himself backward, his chair squeaking and wobbling dangerously as he fled. "STAY AWAY FROM ME!"
His wheelchair hit a crack in the pavement, tipped slightly, righted itself, and then disappeared around the corner at breakneck speed, his terrified wailing fading into the distance.
The reaper, still pinned under Leon, blinked. "...What's with him?"
Leon shrugged, adjusting his grip on the reaper's collar. "Oh, that's just the local drug addict. Don't mind him."
"Ah." The reaper nodded sagely, as if that explained everything.
Leon's fist shot up and clocked the reaper square in the jaw with a perfectly executed ghost-powered punch.
"OW! YOU—"
And just like that, they were scuffling again.
Leon scrambled to his feet, grabbing the reaper's scythe off the ground and swinging it like a baseball bat aimed straight for the reaper's head. The reaper ducked, swept Leon's legs out from under him with a vicious kick, and the two went tumbling again, this time straight into a pile of bulging garbage bags.
They rolled, they punched, they cursed. They knocked over more trash. At one point, the reaper tried to strangle Leon with his own coat. Leon responded by biting his arm.
"Um... excuse me?"
Both of them froze.
Slowly, very slowly, they turned their heads toward the voice.
Standing at the entrance of the alley, bathed in the pale glow of a streetlamp, was a young woman.
She had long, sky-blue hair with bangs that covered her left eye and a loose braid tied on the left side. She wore a white jacket over a long, double-breasted dress with gold buttons, and a pair of high white boots. Her outfit was slightly damaged—small tears visible in the fabric—and her arms and legs were marked with fresh scratches, like she'd just crawled through a bramble patch or fought her way out of a particularly aggressive hedge maze.
She looked very, very out of place in this grimy Hong Kong back alley.
"Um," she said again, her voice soft and polite despite the absolute chaos she'd just walked in on. She clasped her hands in front of her nervously. "I'm... I'm looking for Mr. Leon?"
Leon and the reaper stared at her.
Then, slowly, their eyes drifted upward.
Above the woman's head, glowing faintly in the dim light of the alley like a tiny, ethereal beacon, was a halo.
The reaper's grip on Leon's collar loosened. His jaw went slack. The noodle container slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a wet splat.
"What the..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He stared at the halo, then at the woman, then back at the halo. "You're not an angel. But you have a Halo." He turned to Leon, his expression a confusing mix of suspicion and disbelief. "What the hell is this? Some kind of trick?"
The woman fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable under their stares. "Um, I–" She fumbled in her jacket pocket and pulled out a folded letter, holding it out toward them like a peace offering. Her hands trembled slightly. "A kind man told me to give this to you, Mr. Grim Reaper. He said it might...answer your questions?"
The reaper's eyes narrowed. He released Leon entirely, shoving him off with a grunt, and stood up. He brushed garbage off his robes with as much dignity as a man covered in mystery sauce could muster, then strode forward and snatched the letter from her hands with zero ceremony.
Leon sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw and watching with mild interest as the reaper tore open the envelope.
The woman stood there awkwardly, wringing her hands and glancing between the two of them like she wasn't sure if she should stay or run.
Leon gave her a small, polite yet casual wave. "Hey."
She blinked, but she waved back a bit confused.
The reaper unfolded the letter and began reading.
His face went through several stages of emotion in rapid succession—confusion, disbelief, anger, resignation, and finally, exhausted acceptance. His shoulders sagged. His grip on the letter tightened, crinkling the paper.
He lowered the letter, staring at nothing in particular, his expression that of a man who'd just been told he had to work a double shift on his day off.
"...You're lucky," he said finally, his voice flat. He looked at Leon. "You're very lucky the big man is watching over you."
He tossed the letter aside. It fluttered to the ground like a defeated bird.
Leon crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Why would Jesus watch over me? I'm a Buddhist, remember?"
The reaper groaned, already tired of this entire conversation. "The other one."
Leon paused, his brow furrowing in thought. His mind went into overdrive, cycling through possibilities. Who could this possibly be? What persons did this Grim reaper imply?
His eyes went wide. He turned sharply to the reaper. "You mean that big man?!"
The reaper nodded grimly.
Leon's jaw dropped. "Wow. Just, wow. I...I don't even know what to say."
"Me neither," the reaper muttered. He looked at the young woman, then sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "He's all yours, ma'am."
He picked up his scythe, spun it once in his hand with practiced ease, and began floating upward into the air. His robes billowed dramatically around him despite the complete lack of wind.
And with that, he vanished in a flash of pale light, leaving behind only the faint smell of trash and dead fish.
Leon dusted off his coat one final time, adjusted his cracked sunglasses and hat, and turned to face the young woman with the calm, professional demeanor of a man who absolutely had not just been brawling in garbage five minutes ago.
"So," he said, crossing his arms. "What do you want?" He tilted his head slightly, his tone casual but direct. "You see, I'm a man of many great feats. Fearless. Confident. Experienced in dealing with the supernatural and the unreal, not to mention, charming."
He smiled to himself, looking very proud of that statement.
He paused, then added with surprising sincerity, "While yes I might be dead and a ghost now, I can assure you that as an exorcist, I will help you one way or another, for I. have a certain moral obligations that I happen to agree with, and one of those is helping people in need."
The woman hesitated, her fingers twisting together nervously. She opened her mouth, closed it, then took a shaky breath.
"I... I want you to be a teacher."
Leon stared at her.
Just... stared.
His expression didn't change, but there was a very specific quality to his silence, as he was unsure of what he was hearing.
He then looked at her like she was an insane patient who'd just escaped from an asylum and decided that this was a reasonable life choice.
He looked genuinely conflicted, confused, even.
Finally, he spoke. "You better have a very good reason for this." His voice was flat, measured. "Because... what?"
The woman winced. "Um. This... this is going to take a while to explain."
Leon gestured at the alley around them. "I've got time. I'm dead. Time is literally all I have."
She took another deep breath and began talking.
[10 Minutes Later]
Leon stood with his arms crossed, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he processed everything she'd just told him.
"So," he said slowly, piecing it together aloud, "you want me to be a teacher for gun-toting students with halos and too much durability, and I'll be sent to this place called Kivotos which is basically the 21st century and not 1995, and I will arrive resurrected as a mortal man once again so I can guide these children, and maybe some adults, into a brighter future."
He then started pacing back and forth, his tone growing more incredulous. "And this Kivotos is run by teenagers with attitude and probably in puberty who hold governmental positions, and I need to give a letter of recommendation made by you to this ‘Rin’ girl so I can be a teacher or in the words of those Japanese folks, a sensei if you will. Is that correct?"
The woman nodded nervously. "Y-Yes. That's...essentially correct."
Leon continued stroking his chin, his expression unreadable behind his sunglasses. "I see. I see."
There was a long pause.
The woman shifted uncomfortably, clearly bracing herself for rejection.
Then Leon nodded once, decisively. "Well then. I accept the proposal."
The woman blinked. "Wait, what?"
"I accept," Leon repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She stared at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Bu-But why?! You jus- I didn't even finish explaining everything! Don't you want more details? Don't you want to know what you're getting into?!"
Leon shrugged. "If the great Buddha thinks this is the right path for me, then who am I to judge? This is merely another step on my journey to enlightenment." He adjusted his sunglasses. "Besides, I can tell you're telling the truth. Most people would dismiss you as a lunatic, but you're not a lunatic and I am not most people. No ghost with fancy clothing like that would walk up to a random exorcist holding a letter made by the enlightened one himself, and utter those insane stories to me, either you are crazy or you speak nothing but truth."
He stopped and glanced at the shining light of the moon “And the latter sounds more believable than the former”
The woman felt something tighten in her chest.
She hadn't expected this.
She'd expected questions. Suspicion. Doubt. Maybe even outright refusal.
But not...trust.
Not this easy, immediate acceptance.
Even after everything she'd done, Sensei was still looking out for her. Even if this was technically his "past self," even if he didn't know her yet, he was still willing to help. A complete stranger with insane, unbelievable information, and he just...believed her.
Her throat felt tight. Her vision blurred slightly.
He really is the same, she thought, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Even now. Even here.
She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."
Leon waved it off. "Don't mention it."
Then his expression shifted, becoming more practical. He held up a finger. "However, there is one problem."
The woman looked up. "What is it?"
"There's no way this Rin girl is going to accept a letter from me, a complete stranger you just randomly approached in a random alley." He gestured at himself, still covered in garbage stains and mystery fluids. "I mean, just look at my attire. I look like I lost a fight with a dumpster. Which I did. Twice."
The woman's face fell slightly. "Oh. I... I hadn't thought of that."
"Exactly," Leon said, pacing slightly. "We need to establish familiarity. A connection. Something that convinces her that yes, you chose me not just because I'm capable, but because you trusted me. Even if it's basically nepotism."
So they sat there thinking, Leon closed his eyes as he began to enter a deep state of focus and idea, using the most important part of his body to conjure something to his imagination.
His eyes snapped open and he snapped his fingers as an idea appeared.
"I've got it. I'll be your uncle."
The woman blinked. "My... uncle?"
"Yes. Your uncle. Also, a friend to your parents." He said it matter-of-factly, as if this were a perfectly normal solution.
The woman hesitated. "My parents are... dead."
He blinked "Ah, I’m sorry to hear that" Leon apologized gently. "But even without that, I can see this working. It gives us a believable connection. You don't need to be blood-related to be someone's uncle, you know." His tone shifted, becoming oddly enthusiastic. "In fact, being an uncle is great. You get all the fun of spoiling kids without any of the responsibility. You show up, give them candy or the talk, and then leave before things get messy. It's the perfect role."
Despite herself, the woman let out a small, shaky laugh.
Leon grinned. "See? You're already warming up to the idea."
She wiped at her eyes, still smiling faintly. "I...I'm not sure, but... I trust you."
"Good," Leon said, nodding approvingly. "Trust is important, it’s the most important aspect in business after all."
Then his expression softened slightly and wondered. "But once I arrive there, what will happen to you now?"
The woman's smile faded. She looked down at her hands. "I'm...I'm going to a certain place. I can't say where."
Leon tilted his head. "Will we meet again?"
She shook her head slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "No. I don't think so."
For a moment, Leon was quiet. Then his face softened more, he sat closer to her and pat her head to comfort her, his hand moved like he was comforting a child.
"Well then," he said, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "As your unofficial uncle, I shall now spoil my new niece before you go."
The woman's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"
Leon grinned and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a casual, friendly manner, steering her toward the mouth of the alley. "Come on. I know a good arcade nearby. My treat."
The woman blushed slightly, caught completely off guard. "S-Sensei, I–"
"None of that," Leon said, waving his free hand dismissively. "You're family now –unofficially–. And family doesn't let family disappear into mysterious places without at least one good memory to take with them."
She stared at him for a moment, her chest tight again, but this time, it wasn't from sadness.
It was warmth.
"...Thank you," she said quietly.
Leon just smiled and kept walking, guiding her out of the alley and into the neon-lit streets of Hong Kong.
"Don't mention it, kid," he said. "Now come on. I'm terrible at arcade games, but I'm excellent at looking good"
Despite everything, she laughed.
[Kivotos]
Nanagami Rin gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she navigated the eerily empty streets of Kivotos.
Empty. But not safe.
The city looked like a warzone. Smoke rose from distant fires, their orange glow painting the sky in sickly hues. Overturned vehicles blocked intersections. Shattered glass glittered on the pavement like deadly confetti. Graffiti—fresh, angry, chaotic—covered walls that had been pristine just days ago.
And the noise. Even through the closed windows of her car, she could hear it. Distant explosions. Shouting. Gunfire crackling like firecrackers in the distance.
Kivotos was burning.
And she was alone.
Rin's jaw tightened as she forced herself to focus on the road ahead, her eyes scanning for any sign of movement. Delinquents had taken to ambushing lone travelers—especially GSC members. She couldn't afford to let her guard down. Not now. Not when everything had already fallen apart.
How did it come to this?
The question echoed in her mind, unbidden and unanswerable.
Just days ago, everything had been fine. Stable. Under control. The General Student Council had maintained order across Kivotos, managing the academies, mediating disputes, keeping the peace. It hadn't been easy–it never was–but they'd managed.
And then the President disappeared.
Kanzaki Miu. Her leader. Her friend. The one person who'd held everything together with sheer force of will and an unshakable sense of responsibility.
Gone.
Just like that.
No warning. No explanation. One moment she was there, and the next—nothing. Her office was empty. Her phone went unanswered. It was as if she'd vanished into thin air.
And without her, everything collapsed.
They lost control of the Sanctum Tower. Communication networks went dark. Security protocols failed. Criminals suddenly found themselves free, and they wasted no time taking advantage of the chaos. The carefully maintained order that the GSC had built are now quickly crumbling in less than a week.
And now she was supposed to fix it.
And how? Hold together a city that is tearing itself apart? Restore order when she barely understood what had caused the collapse in the first place? Coordinate a response when half the they are spread thinner and thinner?
She felt like she was drowning.
She turned a corner carefully, her eyes scanning the street ahead for any signs of ambush. Delinquents had a habit of setting up barricades in the weirdest places, and the last thing she needed was to get jumped on her way to—
She slammed on the brakes.
The car screeched to a halt, tires squealing against asphalt.
Standing in the middle of the road, bathed in the dim light of a flickering streetlamp, was a man.
He stood perfectly still, one hand raised in front of him, palm forward as if telling her to stop.
Rin's heart pounded. Her expression turned from annoyance and slightly mild rage.
She threw open the car door and stepped out, anger flooding her system.
"Are you insane?!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the empty street. "Don't stand in the middle of the road! You could've been killed! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here right now?! There are riots! Delinquents! Fires! What are you thinking?!"
The man tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words.
Then he spoke, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "The car couldn't have hit me."
Rin blinked. "What?"
He gestured at his raised hand. "I put my hand forward. That means I ordered the automobile to stop any momentum it had. Simple cause and effect."
Rin stared at him.
"...What?"
"Physics," the man said, nodding sagely. "It's very reliable."
Rin's eye twitched. "That's not how physics wor–" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "You know what, I don't have time for this. Just get out of the road before someone actually runs you over."
That's when she noticed it.
Or rather, the lack of it.
The man didn't have a halo.
The man adjusted his sunglasses, completely unbothered by her look. "Are you Nanagami Rin?"
She froze.
"Vice President of the General Student Council," he continued, his tone still calm. "Friend of GSC President Kanzaki Miu?"
Rin's hand tightened on the car door. Her instincts screamed at her
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp.
The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his coat—slowly, deliberately—and pulled out a folded letter.
He held it out toward her. "Here. A letter from her. I'm her uncle, you see."
Rin was confused, uncle? Her friend never mentioned any uncle, she always love to talk about her family. estranged? Did she forgot? Or maybe he is lying?. Despite the confusion and hesitation, she stepped forward cautiously and took the letter from his hand. She unfolded it carefully, her eyes scanning the contents.
Her breath caught.
Her eyes darted back to the man standing in front of her.
"You're..." She looked down at the letter again, rereading the words to make sure she hadn't misunderstood. "You're supposed to be the Sensei?"
The man nodded. "Yes."
Rin's mind reeled. "I-what!?"
"You see," the man said, adjusting his cap with one hand, "when I found out that my niece was missing and she told me to come here and be a teacher, I thought to myself: Well, this looks like a job for an exorcist. But I thought to myself again, what do I exorcise, if there is no mention of ghosts? Easy, I will exorcise my niece’s problem away."
He nodded to himself clearly proud of his thinking “So I ran here”
Rin blinked. "You...ran here?"
"Yes."
"From where?"
The man paused, then said vaguely, "A land with no name."
Rin stared at him, utterly baffled. "A land with no–what does that even mean?!"
The man didn't elaborate. Instead, he adjusted his cap again, then extended his hand toward her in a formal greeting.
"Anyway allow me to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice carrying a strange mix of professionalism and absolute ridiculousness. "Leon. Leon the Professional."
Rin looked at his outstretched hand.
Then at the briefcase.
Then back at his face, which was completely obscured by sunglasses and his cap.
She had so many questions.
But all she could manage was once again: "...What?"
Leon kept his hand extended, waiting patiently.
Rin, against her better judgment and every instinct screaming at her that this man was completely insane, slowly reached out and shook his hand.
"Nanagami Rin," she said weakly but still sounding professional. "Acting President of the GSC”
Leon nodded approvingly. "Excellent. I look forward to working with you."
He released her hand, picked up his briefcase, and gestured at the car. "Shall we? I assume you're heading somewhere important. I wouldn't want to hold you up."
Rin opened her mouth.
"You... you want to come with me?"
"Of course," Leon said, as if it were obvious. "I'm the new teacher, aren't I? Seems like the responsible thing to do."
Rin felt her brain short-circuit.
She let out a long, exhausted sigh, then gestured weakly at the passenger seat. "...Fine. Get in. But if you do anything weird, I'm kicking you out."
Leon climbed into the passenger seat, setting his briefcase on his lap with the care of someone transporting priceless artifacts.
Rin got back into the driver's seat, started the engine, and pulled back onto the road.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Leon broke the silence. "So. Kivotos. Nice place. Bit on fire, though."
Rin's grip on the steering wheel tightened.
This is fine, she told herself.
It was not fine.