When people praise me, Father wears a smile he has never once shown me, pretends not to hear them, and shifts the conversation to work.
As though he does not possess even the slightest interest in anything about me.
He moves on to work so immediately that even the people who had been speaking are taken aback, and they cautiously steal glances in my direction.
Father's behavior made it seem as though he were drawing a line between us.
When I smile at them to show that I am fine, they awkwardly—or with uncomfortable expressions—move on to discussing Father's work.
All while furtively looking at me with questioning eyes.
Since this happened so often, word eventually got around. They still greeted me, but they began avoiding any mention of me in front of Father.
And I only grew more desperate.
Even when I did this much, Father would not look at me.
"Why, Father...?"
All I wanted was a single moment of his attention.
For that one thing alone, I had honed myself through efforts that felt as though they scraped the very marrow from my bones.
Yet the very person whose attention I wanted would not look at me.
If Father still would not look at me after all this, then what was I supposed to do?
'What more do I need to do for Father to turn his eyes toward me?'
'What do I have to do for Father's gaze to come to me?'
'No... does Father even acknowledge that I exist at all?'
Amid that barren affection and indifference, I felt myself slowly drying up inside.
Just as I was beginning to think that perhaps I should give up on receiving Father's attention, I happened to see some students at school who had caused trouble and had their parents called in.
I had been on my way to the faculty office to deliver materials my teacher had asked for when I noticed a commotion to one side. There, I saw the parents of the students who had caused trouble bowing to the teacher as they scolded their children.
"How could you smoke?!"
"Oh, why?! All adults smoke! Don't make such a big deal over cigarettes!"
"You little...! Don't you dare spout nonsense just because you have a mouth!"
"Ow! That hurts!"
"It's supposed to hurt, you brat! You can smoke all you want once you're an adult, so why did you have to cause trouble like this now?!"
The cause of the incident was cigarettes.
They might not have been caught for merely smoking, but they had brazenly smoked while wearing the academy uniform, prompting reports from people nearby.
The security guards had responded to the reports and gone to apprehend them. But perhaps because they were rebellious teenagers who thought the whole world was beneath them, the boys had fought back and picked a fight with the guards, only to be subdued and brought in.
As a prestigious academy with a long history, Cheonwoo Academy did not tolerate such behavior.
To what extent? If you were caught smoking, drinking alcohol, or having sex, you would be expelled on the spot.
Yes, that was precisely why their parents were desperately bowing their heads now.
If their children were expelled from a prestigious academy rather than withdrawing or transferring of their own accord, it would be difficult for them to be accepted by other prestigious schools.
In other words, for their children's futures, they lowered their proud heads, bent at the waist, and apologized.
As I watched them, I involuntarily thought of Father.
'If I did something like that and faced expulsion, how would Father react?'
'Would he ignore me as always and not come to school at all?'
'Or would he come and act like those parents over there?'
Based on everything I had experienced so far, the former was overwhelmingly more likely.
Besides, Father had never scolded me even once, so honestly, it was difficult to imagine the latter.
'But what if?'
'What if Father acted like the latter...?'
'And afterward, what if he started paying attention to me...?'
"Honestly, there are always kids like that every year."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. They give the teachers headaches every single time. Just think how badly the vice principal will tear us apart later... So, Raiden, you mustn't copy that sort of behavior, all right? Though honestly, I can't imagine you doing anything like that in the first place."
"Hehe. Thank you for trusting me."
"Seriously... wouldn't it be wonderful if every student were like you?"
At those words, I smiled outwardly and nodded.
No, Teacher.
I'm not as good a student as you think I am.
After all, even now, I was thinking about how I could do something like that in the most impactful way possible.
First, I immediately dismissed the idea of stealing cigarettes from Father.
After all, Father did not smoke, so the very premise was impossible.
Then there was only one option: buying them myself.
"This should be enough."
After observing several convenience stores, I realized that they generally did not check identification.
That meant that as long as I was careful about my clothes and appearance, buying a pack of cigarettes would not be difficult.
Based on what I had observed, I made a plan. Unlike usual, I put on makeup to look mature and changed into clothes that made me appear as grown-up as possible.
But I thought looking too much like an adult might actually arouse suspicion, so I researched it online, changed into clothes a college student might wear, and redid my makeup.
Then, after selecting the convenience store least likely to check identification, I went in during a busy time and spoke casually.
"One pack of Marlboro, please."
"...Ah."
For some reason, the clerk stared blankly at me after hearing my order, and I began to feel anxious.
'Don't tell me... I've been found out?'
"...Excuse me?"
"Ah, yes. That'll be 4,500 won."
"Here you go."
"Card received."
'Whew...'
Fortunately, it seemed I had not been discovered, and I was able to get the cigarettes I had set out to buy.
But this was only a means to an end. What mattered was what I did next.
My goal, after all, was to be caught smoking while dressed as a student, be summoned by the teachers, and have Father called to the school.
Thinking that, I was just about to put the cigarettes I had bought into my handbag.
Grab.
"?"
A yellow hand suddenly stopped mine—
'Huh? A yellow hand?'
Feeling that something was strange, I raised my head.
At that moment, I saw the figure of the person(?) holding me and froze solid.
"Uh, huh?"
...Yes. That was the day I first met the Homu Sword Saint, who would later become my swordsmanship teacher.
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