There.
The target.
Teacher Blue stood before him. He seized the man by the collar, his roar echoing through the corridor—yet still restrained, still composed.
“What is this supposed to mean!?”
The young teacher whose collar was gripped remained calm, answering in an even tone.
“So… you’ve realized it already.”
Seeing such stillness, Blue’s hand trembled. His grip tightened, shoving the man back against the wall.
“And you can still stay calm—!? I told you to explain!”
Thud.
The teacher’s knees gave way to the floor. Dark shadows beneath his eyes seemed to dim his sight.
But in the end, he told the truth.
Through the video still recording.
RECORD: / Cam 01
“As you’ve probably figured out, this school divides students into two sides. Perhaps because of some problem… or inequality. But it wouldn’t build a class system this extreme unless it worshipped that absurd authority of reputation above all else.”
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“…You,” Blue said. “Why did you name me that day? Why let the students know me as Blue when I never needed them to?”
“Because I wanted those on the other side a place of their own. Even if it was only one.”
The camera continued recording the kneeling teacher—
—but now its focus shifted to the other young instructor lifting his face, tears spilling freely.
“Looks like we’re kindred spirits, huh~”
Teacher Blue then revealed the truth to them both:
By the end of the second semester, he had a deadline. As an instructor, if he failed to prove that Film Studies held value equal to other subjects—
he would be transferred out.
? ? ?
Monday morning. A classroom in restless turbulence. And Joanne, sinking into thought.
Compared to other subjects, Teacher Blue’s film class demanded far more from one’s ability.
Humans may share the same eyes, yet very few—even photographers—can perceive every element within a frame.
Unless they possess a mind of unusual intensity. A high intelligence. A near-obsessive focus that borders on isolation.
Even a leaf on the verge of withering, or a butterfly fleeing rain—
such a person would stare, drifting as thoughts unfolded into endless images.
“What are you looking at, sir…?”
“Joanne…”
They walked side by side through the cafeteria at noon.
“What Teacher Shosil said… it really shocked me. Would the school truly risk dividing students into classes like that?”
“Teacher Shosil didn’t say why they divide them, did he?”
Inside the cafeteria, every wooden table bore the same color. They sat down with boxes of bread—dozens of pieces—and chilled fruit juice in glass bottles at hand. Today’s lunch was Blue’s treat. He might even buy more if students from his class came to join them.
The meal passed peacefully. Every heart there felt filled.
And then—
someone appeared before them, blocking the sunlight behind.
A spoon clattered.
And every voice died at once.
“Teacher Blue.”
…
“At last. I finally get to meet you in person.”