Path of the Extra Chapter 382: Leo Karumi [16]

"So, you really are in charge of the festival committee, aren't you?"

Leo gave a curt nod while positioned before his teacher at the front of the room.

"I have already allocated everyone's responsibilities," he stated. "Furthermore, I’ve decided we are to hold daily meetings after school so that we can address any necessary topics that arise."

"I see..." The teacher observed him intently for several seconds. "You are taking this obligation quite seriously."

Her demeanor softened instantly. Resting both hands upon Leo’s shoulders, she appeared visibly moved. Across the room, Leo’s classmates were preoccupied with organizing their tasks for the upcoming end-of-year festival. Despite the ongoing labor, the environment grew silent as everyone tuned into their conversation.

"You have finally decided to engage with the team," she remarked, her voice trembling slightly. "I honestly never expected to witness such a day."

She seemed on the verge of shedding tears.

Leo, conversely, appeared as if he wished to vanish into thin air.

"Would you mind unhanding me now?"

"Oh—right! My apologies. I tend to forget how sensitive you become when people initiate physical contact, or even just speak too loudly in your proximity... or, well, simply exist within your general space." She chuckled with awkwardness, appearing entirely oblivious to his grimacing expression before glowing with renewed cheer.

"Still! I suppose we have managed to make at least one constructive step forward after all these years! I am simply dying to inform my thera—"

"Teacher."

"Right. My apologies."

She recoiled instantly. A cold stare from Leo was enough to make her break into a light sweat, backing away as if she had inadvertently wandered too close to a dangerous predator.

Leo flicked a glance toward his peers. Instantly, they fixated on their work with perfect synchronization—eyes downcast and hands in motion—portraying an image of intense dedication, as if they would rather endure a battlefield than be caught listening in.

Leo let out a weary sigh.

"What is our class producing for the end-of-year festival?" he inquired in a low tone, ensuring only his teacher could overhear.

Every class was under requirement to provide a contribution.

A satisfied smile spread across the teacher’s face.

"They are currently organizing a haunted house."

"How terribly unoriginal."

"Indeed, however..." She looked across the room at the students busy cutting paper and fabric, sketching plans, and gathering in small groups to debate their vision. Their dedication was evident. "I believe it will be quite enjoyable."

"...Perhaps," Leo replied, his tone as flat as ever.

The teacher’s gaze shifted back to him with that same gentle expression.

"The group could certainly benefit from your guidance."

Leo shook his head.

"I find that doubtful. Besides, even if they could use it, they would never seek my help."

He was well aware of how his classmates perceived him. Naturally, that was entirely his own doing, though he held no regrets regarding that reality.

"I wouldn't be so certain of that," the teacher countered.

Leo looked at her in confusion, yet she only offered a fonder smile—as if she had been anticipating this very dialogue for years.

"After all this time, even if I have failed to teach you anything of substance, I have learned one truth: you are far too quick to assume others view you solely as a monster to be avoided."

"..."

"I am willing to wager that if you invested even a modicum of effort, you would realize just how incorrect your assumptions have been."

Leo surveyed his classmates once more. For a fleeting heartbeat, he felt tempted to believe her.

But then—

"Does it truly matter?"

What consequence would a few friendships have? If such connections were what he desired, he could have acted in a friendly manner since day one. He could have been popular. He could have harvested smiles and social overtures like mere trophies.

"Of course it matters," the teacher asserted, showing no surprise at his question. "Maintaining the persona of a villain for years—while knowing deep down that it is not your true nature—is an exhausting endeavor."

Leo squinted his eyes.

"My only desire is to be left alone. How could that possibly justify labeling me a villain?"

Her smile faltered, just for a moment.

"If your desire was truly to be left alone, you would have simply requested your classmates to give you space with a bit of courtesy. Yet, you have never once attempted that, not since the very first day."

The accusation held merit, and Leo chose not to refute it.

"You are remarkably intelligent, yet that very intelligence tends to isolate you, doesn't it? You are currently finishing middle school, and although high school might not feel vastly different, it remains a distinct chapter closing in your life. Deep down, I am certain you crave some form of change."

She placed a hand upon his shoulder once more.

Leo winced at the contact, but she seemed indifferent to his discomfort. If anything, she beamed with more confidence.

"Cease your attempts to appear so cold and mature at all times. There is no harm in enjoying yourself occasionally. Especially at your age. No one will hold it against you."

With those words, she pulled away and walked past him.

"I am going to fetch some coffee," she announced over her shoulder. "And while I remain skeptical, I truly hope my words have given you some cause for contemplation—at least to some small degree."

Leo stood silently as she exited. The door clicked into place behind her.

He let out a long breath.

Returning his focus to his classmates, he sighed again.

"Class representative?"

"Huh—? Y-yes!"

The class representative—a girl sporting twin-tails—leaped to her feet with such urgency that her chair scraped harshly against the floor. Her face turned pale with shock and nerves, as if Leo had singled her out for an execution. Her gaze suggested the terror of a rabbit trapped in a cage with a predator.

"What is the central theme for your haunted house?" Leo asked.

"O-our theme?" Her eyes darted around nervously. "Um... well... I suppose it is... everything?"

"Yes, exactly! Everything!" someone else interjected excitedly.

"We will just frighten them with every scary concept imaginable!"

Others immediately added their own suggestions.

"Zombies!"

"Specters!"

"Monsters!"

"Oh, absolutely, gore-covered monsters!"

"That sounds brilliant—wait, how exactly do we create convincing fake blood?"

Within moments, the entire class erupted with energy. Ideas ricocheted across the room. Disputes over props, makeup, costumes, and sound design broke out instantly.

The classroom was filled with noise in the blink of an eye.

The class rep, meanwhile, kept casting nervous glances toward Leo as if waiting for him to stifle their enthusiasm at any second.

He observed the chaotic scene for a few moments, then addressed her again.

"If you lack a cohesive theme—and simply aim for a chaotic mix of everything—the costs will spiral," Leo stated, his voice ringing clearly over the din.

"You will need varied outfits, disparate materials, and conflicting decorations. If you actually intend to make this frightening, the quality must be high. If you fail to produce a concrete plan, the teacher or the student council will disqualify your project immediately."

The impact was immediate.

Silence fell over the room. The excitement evaporated as if the air had been drained from the space. Groans emerged—tentative at first, then more pronounced—as students slumped into their desks, expressions turning dismal. They had envisioned total freedom and an unrestrained creative spree.

"Then..." someone muttered.

"What are we supposed to do now?"

The class rep looked toward Leo once more, projecting anxiety mixed with a flicker of desperate hope—as if he were their final savior.

Leo merely shrugged.

"Formulate a proper plan."

He delivered the statement as if it were common sense.

Turning on his heel, he departed the classroom without offering another word.