Chapter 30
Moonlit Night and Kindergarten (Part 2)
“Tsukiyo!”
I rushed over to her, wrapping my whole body around hers to shield her. A torrent of cardboard boxes came crashing down from above.
Pain thudded through my head and back as the pile fell on me—some boxes had hard corners that hurt like hell.
The shaking stopped, and nothing else was falling. I pushed the boxes aside and called down to Tsukiyo, who was beneath me.
“Are you hurt!?”
“…No, I’m fine.”
“Ahh, thank goodness. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“This is not okay! What were you thinking!?”
Tsukiyo stood up, furious, her voice sharp and trembling.
“You’re safe, so you don’t have to be mad.”
“I’m not safe! You cut your head, Taiyō-san—you were groaning in pain!”
“It hurt a little, sure, but it’s just a scratch.”
If I had any real bruises or fractures, that’d be one thing—but it was only the pain from the impact. Nothing still hurt afterward.
A small cut on my forehead? A bandage would fix that.
Tsukiyo wasn’t hurt at all, so honestly, I thought my response was perfect.
But tears welled up in her eyes, and before I knew it, she was sobbing.
“Please… don’t ever do something like that again… If something happened to you again, I…”
“I’m sorry…”
She must have been talking about what happened back in late July—when I ended up hospitalized. That incident had brought us much closer, very quickly.
But maybe for Tsukiyo, it was still a trauma—one she hadn’t fully healed from.
“Tsukiyo… please, don’t cry. I don’t want to see you sad.”
Hic “I know… it’s not your fault, Taiyō-san… hic …but please, take better care of yourself.”
“Are you two okay!? The earthquake—wait, what happened!?”
Once Tsukiyo calmed down, I was taken to the staff room by Ms. Marina.
She opened the first-aid kit and stuck a bandage on my forehead.
“You’re sure you don’t have any other injuries, right?”
“Yes, ma’am! I’m perfectly fine. Good thing I’ve been working out lately.”
“Really sure?”
“Y-yes.”
“Because if word gets out that a minor got hurt under my watch, my precious evening beer privileges might vanish—so you’re really okay, right?”
What kind of question is that? Beautiful as she was, this woman had a dark side for sure.
And considering how shady that storage area was, she probably was worried about management responsibility or something.
Still, I wasn’t actually hurt, so there was no problem. Claiming I was would just cause unnecessary trouble later.
While she was treating me, Ms. Marina kept glancing toward where Tsukiyo was.
Apparently, she had calmed down and was now with the children.
“So, you and Tsukiyo-chan aren’t actually dating, right?”
“Me and Tsukiyo? There’s no way we’re a match.”
“As a thirty-year-old, I couldn’t care less about kids’ ‘compatibility.’ What matters are feelings—but fine, I’ll drop it.”
Thirty!? She was older than she looked… And wow, this teacher definitely had some deep emotional baggage.
Beautiful, yes—but she’d clearly been through things. She sighed heavily.
“I heard from Tsukiyo-chan too. I’ll give you a little free info.”
“Eh?”
“That warehouse cleanup really did need a guy’s help. So I asked her if she knew any men she could call. Do you know what she said?”
I couldn’t even imagine what she might’ve answered.
“She said, ‘There’s one person—someone kinder than anyone else, someone I truly respect… a friend I can count on. I’ll ask him.’ Isn’t that sweet?”
Tsukiyo… thought of me like that?
Maybe it was secondhand info, but still—it made me blush.
“If only I’d worked harder in high school, maybe I wouldn’t still be single at my age… Hey, boy!”
“Y-yes, ma’am! …Wait, you haven’t been drinking, have you?”
“Youth only comes once! Don’t waste time overthinking—talk to her!”
“Uh… okay.”
“Ugh, I’m done with this life. I want to get hit by a truck, reincarnate, and run an orphanage in another world!”
Ah, so that’s what “terminal singleness” looks like.
Leaving the eccentric teacher behind, I went to check on Tsukiyo.
She was in the classroom, surrounded by seven children.
She was playing the piano. I remembered her mentioning that she’d learned as a child.
She’d been too shy to sing at karaoke the other day, but her voice was beautiful—and her playing was graceful.
Watching her play a children’s song and sing along with the kids filled me with a quiet peace… and I felt my heart drawn to her even more.
I stayed there, watching that warm, lively scene until the song ended.
“Ah, Taiyō-san.”
She had noticed me standing by the door.
