At Hamuko’s explanation, Zenkichi’s brow lifted—impressed despite himself. While the mental image of a middle-schooler headbutting a creep into next week was a little alarming, he wasn’t going to lie—he respected it. He did deserve it.

And if she’d busted his kneecaps? Yeah, no tears would’ve been shed either way.

When Hamuko flashed him a grin, he gave her one of his own, equal parts proud and rueful. “I approve of that life lesson. Though…” His grin softened into something more earnest. “I’d like to think you won’t have to worry about those circumstances here.”

He and Akane shared a glance, and even though their visors were opaque—hiding everything—their understanding was clear.

“Heh,” Zenkichi muttered under his breath. “Cosette would give ‘em all hell to pay.”