I Fell In Love With A Girl Who Died Before I Was Even Born

"I've got you in the camera / I got you in my camera / A second of your life, ruined for life."
— Sex Pistols, "I Wanna Be Me" (1977)

Fushineko-sensei sat at the front of the class with her feet on the desk and a fashion magazine covering 90% of her head.

I didn't mind because I didn't have to listen to her irritating feline whine whenever the nekomata spoke.

But, eventually, one of the students in the front row, a short brunette with pigtails, raised her hand.

Fushineko-sensei looked up from her magazine, annoyed, and turned back to her magazine.

The girl in the front row didn't give up. She kept her hand raised. Then she waved. Then she gesticulated wildly.

That's when the nekomata slammed her magazine down and turned to the student.

"Nnnyyy-Yes, Asuka-san?" she asked. "Since you seem intent on preventing me from enjoying my article. What do you want?"

I blinked. Asuka? Wasn't that Hibana's last name?

This girl looked like a petite version of Hibana, if Hibana suddenly decided she liked candy-striped bubble gum pink and green leg warmers.

"Oh. Yes. Today's picture day, Fushineko-sensei!" she said quickly.

Fushineko-sensei lazily raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, Asuka-san. The morning announcements told us that not fifteen minutes ago."

She put her fashion magazine on the desk and leaned over, glaring at the girl.

To her credit, the girl didn't back down.

She pushed her bright green and pink glasses to the bridge of her nose and frowned.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Well, no, I wanted to ask if we were allowed to, you know, do something unique for the pictures."

I watched the teacher roll her cat-like eyes.

"Oh for the love—It's a school yearbook picture. You kids act like it's the most important thing on the planet."

Now Inego jumped in.

"Um, excuse me, Fushineko-sensei? If I may," he said, politely. "I think Hotaru's onto something. We've got to wear these black and silver uniforms, and they make all of us look alike anyway."

He looked around the classroom, seeing if anyone was supporting him.

I nodded, and several students around me agreed with him.

"You don't get it, do you," said Fushineko-sensei. "Seriously, kids, calm down. It's just a picture. That's it. You know what a picture is, don't you?"

Somehow, the gravity in her voice changed.

She knew all of us, even the strangest of the youkai, knew what a picture was, but I didn't know what her question meant.

"What is it?" Hotaru asked.

Her twin pig tails bobbed innocently.

Fushineko-sensei smiled, her lip split in two, emphasizing her feline features.

"It's a second of your life, ruined for life, children," she said.

No one said a thing, so she continued.

"Normally, when you do something… stupid, no one's around. Or, if they are, they're nnyyaaa-normally not recording it, thankfully. Right?"

She leaned more on her desk. Her eyes flitted across the room, daring anyone to speak.

No one dared.

She nodded and pointed a claw at the class.

"And since you're all here to learn, let me just tell you something, okay?"

She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a vape cart and began openly vaping in the middle of first period.

"Doesn't school just suck anyway?" she asked.

Little puffs of smoke floated out of her mouth as she spoke.

A part of me was beginning to see why Shion liked Fushineko-sensei, but the rest of class stared at her with their mouths hanging open.

"Gracious, her behavior!" said Yuki. "They never permitted smoking in the classroom when I was in high school."

She shook her head sadly.

"The teachers had to go in the lounge to smoke their pipes and cigarettes. Much more civilized that way."

Fushineko-sensei took a long hit off her vape.

It made me wish I had one.

Hotaru raised her hand again.

"Gah, what, Asuka-san?" the nekomata asked.

Hotaru pointed at the vape cart, still in Fushineko's hand.

"Um, are you sure you're supposed to be doing that? I mean, like, vaping. In class?"

But the nekomata just leaned back, taking her hands off the desk, and she stretched.

I grimaced. It sounded like someone stepping on bubble wrap.

"Believe me, with you lot, it's a necessity," Fushineko-sensei said.

Suddenly, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.

I didn't have to turn to know.

Murasaki. The succubus.