The man's footsteps echo through an empty hallway. A great sigh escapes his lips, and with another glance at his watch, his pace increases. I'm going to be late, he muses, late on the first day of work. The man prays his quiet nature has left his lack of attendance at the induction ceremony unnoticed, and finds himself thankful for having no part in the celebration this year. Despite how much he enjoyed seeing his co-workers, a group of lifelong friends, he also couldn't stand to be around such an obnoxious group of people for longer than 10 minutes. Perhaps, he muses, he could last 20 minutes on an especially good day. Suspending his thoughts, an orotund voice calls out, and he immediately recognizes it as Toshizo Hijikata, an aforementioned co-worker. "Sannan. I didn't see you at the induction ceremony yesterday."

Encountering a mental blank as to what to say, the man, Sannan, offers him a tight smile and runs his fingers through his brown hair. "Perceptive as always, Hijikata. I wasn't there, I needed to finish preparations for this year." Hijikata's eyes narrow. The two had known each other for some time, as they had attended college together, and Sannan wasn't the type of man who would finish preparations last minute. Although, ironic as it was, Sannan's odd behaviors had become predictable in their own way. His quiet, mysterious demeanor had been a part of who he was for as long as Hijikata could remember.

"I think you're lying," Hijikata comments, "I'd bet you had all your preparations done before yesterday, Sannan." Another pause. Hijikata was correct - in part, at least. He wasn't incorrect in thinking that Sannan's excuse was a poor one to avoid confrontation, but what he didn't know was why. In all honesty, his absence was to continue his research of a certain medicine which has captured his attention for some time. It was spoken of in historic pieces of evidence; diaries, logs, and journals owned by those who were fighting in the Edo Period. It was a medicine which would supposedly give any person who were to take it strengths comparable to the western demon spoken of in long-forgotten lore. Not without it's downfalls, of course, but those symptoms, Sannan could overlook. If you were to dilute the medicine, named Ochimizu, just enough, Sannan reasoned, then those.. side effects would be of no concern.

"I had most of them done. It's rude to make assumptions, you know. I had to take inventory and figure out the finances for this year and where we could make budget cuts."

"And is inventory lacking anything? Are our finances in order?" Hijikata challenges Sannan's excuse, "Where will we be making budget cuts this year?"

In one swift movement, Sannan, impatient and irritated, takes a small stack of files out of his briefcase and reads a portion of the extensive report. "Inventory for this year's students is lacking. 118 textbooks are needed for the science department, along with lab materials..." Sannan recites a dreadful and boring list of materials required for the oncoming year. "Additionally, 180 textbooks are required.."

"Enough, Sannan, I was more curious about the budget and finances."

Sannan continues, resisting the urge to shove the files in Hijikata's face and leave. "Additionally, 180 textbooks are required for our history department, known also," Sannan adds, gritting his teeth, "as the classics department, which you, , are responsible for." He shows his signature bitter, tight-lipped smile. "It's important to listen before interrupting, Hijikata." Hijikata scoffs, yet his face is red from the embarrassment of getting called out.

"I'll go take care of that right now," Hijikata remarks and leaves.

Sannan sighs. It was difficult to come up with excuses at times, but important nonetheless. If he didn't have a cover for what he was really doing - something that the nurse was certain was a crime.. Sannan cringes. Then, he knows, he would undoubtedly get discovered and be faced with severe punishment. It was necessary for him to become so deceitful, and no matter how much Sannan hated the feeling of lying, he believed it was for a good cause. If it would one day help those who had been affected like he had by the reckless cruelty of others, then it was for a good cause. If it would spare a young child from coping with disabilities for life, then no matter what the risks were, he would take them. If it could help an athlete with injuries get back on the field, then he would take the risks. He really wanted to help.

But would he help or hurt?

Why would something with the potential to help millions be cut off to the world, and why would those who possessed such a thing be punished so severely? There was something, dear reader, that the man had neglected to consider. The man had forgotten that the best things can do the worst damage of all.

He carries on, however, walking at a brisk pace to his office, his feet passing the threshold as soon as the morning bell sounds, and the murmur of children in nearby classrooms come to a halt.

The principal's bellowing voice explodes from the speakers. "Good morning, students!" A pause, then murmuring comes from the intercoms. "Ah.. that was a little loud wasn't it? How do we turn down the volume on this? The knob? Which one.. Can you just do it for me?" Chattering erupts from Hijikata's classroom, Sannan can hear it from down the hallway. He smiles to himself. Obnoxious children and a demon teacher won't mix well, he hypothesizes as he continues on with his work, just as the principal's overly enthusiastic voice is back filling his office.

"We apologize for the technical difficulties! Regardless, today is a new beginning for a lot of you! Welcome to Hakuou Academy! Please remember to always try your best and I have no doubts you will succeed in school and even farther in life. Now, a few words from the Class President of this year, Chikage Kazama." More mumbling ensues.

"You all should be honored to be attending this school in my presence. Follow my lead and don't cause trouble, and I guarantee that you will go places in life. As for the rest of you," His monotonous voice drags on, "Our vice class president is also placed in charge of punishment and enforcing rules this year. We have detention passes for each one of you and then some more to spare. Don't be stupid. Have a good year, from your class president, Kazama."

Sannan rubs his temples in a feeble attempt to soothe his frustration. This school is full of clueless officials and pitiful students.

It was going to be a dreadfully long year, Sannan realizes.