Aki Tomoya Truly Deserves to Die

Yukima Azuma almost instantly shook his head.

"No thanks."

Kirisu Mafuyu raised an eyebrow.

"And the reason is?"

"I have something to take care of. Oh, and by the way, Kirisu-sensei—I'll need the day off tomorrow."

She looked at him like she'd just heard the dumbest excuse in the world.

Raising her hand as if to grab his ear, she growled:

"You're already asking for time off? It's literally the second day of school! What urgent business could you possibly have!?"

Yukima leaned back, easily dodging her.

"Calm down, Sensei. Just check your phone for a sec. Search my name."

Her brow creased. She looked at him suspiciously but humored the request.

Picking up her phone, she typed "Yukima Azuma" into the search bar.

And immediately—

Boom.

A flood of autocomplete suggestions popped up.

"Shogi God Yukima Azuma"

"Yukima Azuma wins seven consecutive matches"

"Queen of Shogi confesses to Yukima Azuma"

Kirisu Mafuyu clicked the first article, her expression frozen.

The page loaded instantly.

A long biography filled the screen—Yukima's achievements, tournament wins, classic matches, and in-depth commentary on his playstyle. Photos from post-match interviews accompanied the text. Each one showed the same boy standing before her now… only, surrounded by cameras, press, and fans.

Her fingers stopped scrolling.

She looked up at him again. This time, with completely different eyes.

He wasn't just some gifted student.

Yukima Azuma was already a professional shogi player.

In most cases, a kid with his résumé would've dropped out of school years ago. Staying enrolled at all was rare. Unnecessary, even. He had already carved out a career path ten times more stable than anything a classroom could offer.

Academics? Optional.

"So, you've got a match tomorrow?" she asked, quietly.

Azuma nodded.

"An official match. It's critical for my promotion to 6-dan. I can't skip it."

Without hesitation, Kirisu opened her drawer and handed him a leave form.

"Here. Take it."

Azuma accepted the form, eyebrows raised slightly.

He'd expected some resistance. But this?

Kirisu Mafuyu had already made up her mind.

Of course she had.

In his previous life, Yukima Azuma knew this side of her. Before becoming a teacher, Kirisu Mafuyu had been a competitive figure skater. Nationally ranked. Decorated. Respected.

She gave it all up because of a brief emotional breakdown—and regretted it every day since.

Which is why, as an educator, she clung to one simple belief:

"A teacher's job is to help students fully develop their talents."

And Yukima Azuma? He had talent.

So naturally, she would support him.

"In the future, if you need time off for a match, just shoot me a message on LINE."

"Keep this form. Fill it out after your match and hand it in later."

"If you fall behind on assignments, come to me. I'll help you catch up."

"Borrow notes from classmates too—your grades are too good to let slip."

She listed things off one after another like a mom fussing over her prodigy son.

Finally, she patted his shoulder.

Azuma paused for a second.

Then smiled.

"Sensei, if you've got time, come watch my match."

If someone genuinely cared about him, Yukima Azuma never forgot it. And he always responded in kind.

Kirisu nodded quietly, as if accepting the invitation.

After exchanging LINE accounts, she waved him off.

The rest of the school day passed without much fanfare.

Classes, lunch, break, the usual.

As school ended, Yukima Azuma casually slung his bag over one shoulder and made for the exit.

Technically, he could've joined a club today—but none of them interested him. Not yet.

He was thinking about maybe heading to a quiet spot to practice shogi or grabbing a bite with Utaha.

But then—

someone blocked his path.

Azuma's eyes narrowed.

"Aki-kun. What now?"

Aki Tomoya stood in front of him, gripping a thick stack of papers like his life depended on it.

His whole vibe?

Like a street vendor about to spray your shoes with miracle white cleaner before you could say no.

Only worse.

"Yukima-kun! Let's make the greatest visual novel of all time together!"

Azuma stared at him like he was looking at an unfunny street performer.

At first, he thought maybe Aki had figured out that he was the one who kicked his bike over the other day.

Then again, the guy had been too stunned to realize anything at the time.

But this? This was worse.

"Why me? Why should I help you?"

Azuma crossed his arms, tapping his fingers lightly against his elbow.

Any normal person would've taken the hint.

But Aki Tomoya wasn't a normal person.

"I know you can program. I've seen that little game that blew up online—pretty sure you made it."

"You're the only person I know with actual game dev skills. Let's do it, Yukima-kun! Let's make something legendary together!"

Then, in one exaggerated motion, Aki bowed at a full 90 degrees.

Azuma sighed.

This guy…

Even more shameless than he imagined.

And unfortunately for Aki Tomoya—

Yukima Azuma had zero patience for idiots.