"Good morning, Fuura-san," he said aloud, "I'm heading to the school myself. I had a nasty surprise upon reading the new class placements. I've got you in my homeroom again. I've got the lot of you troublemakers again." He had been assigned to look after the students from 2-H again, who had finally made it to their final year. He was told that the administration had considered him most qualified to take on these troubled students. He knew he was merely being burdened because no-one else could put up with them.
On some level, he resented Fuura-san's disarmingly bright nature, which conflicted so distinctly with his own. But at times, it filled him instead with warmth. Her good spirits could be construed as an appalling result of vapidity, but it still appealed to him, on a level. This good mood of hers: although it sometimes grated with Nozomu, it was that beguiling kind of mood that slowly, but surely, made you its cohort. He wondered now if it was the product of a truly malevolent mind, despite appearances.