It felt like ages ago since Kiki was last sent to a principal's office…
It was during the period just before lunch, when she'd been caught reading during class again. And consequently, had been summoned there:
Into a claustrophobic, square-shaped room, smelling strongly of pine-scented surface cleaner and cigars, with blinds pulled over the windows to impart a dark, gloomy atmosphere. Kiki was sitting in an uncomfortable office lounge chair, fumbling nervously before a tall desk at which there stood a squat, balding, square-shaped man with square-shaped glasses in a cheap suit, glowering furiously at her.
"Shinazawa Keiko," grumbled the man, who was the principal of her old high school—then sighing, as if simply saying Kiki's name filled him with sadness. "We've met several times already," he said. "And it's always over the same delinquent shit."
Keiko blinked. "Is that...supposed to be my name?"
At once, something wasn't feeling right.
