Sakuramoria

How well and successfully everything turned out: the killer was found and neutralized before he could cause more significant damage, the unfortunate hoodie-wearing boy was understood and forgiven, the teacher was saved – she will definitely give higher grades for her lessons because of this, you yourself were let off the hook and acquitted, and to top it all off, the sun is shining brightly and the birds are chirping – what more could you ask for in life!
Smiling and looking at the imaginary optimistic interlocutor as if he were an idiot, the Taimanian girl clicked her tongue in annoyance and irritation.
Sitting on the bed in just her underwear and a t-shirt, she continued to rub the area of her school skirt from which the already faded, but surprisingly stubborn blood stain just wouldn't come off. Perhaps it was due to magic, or perhaps due to her age, or maybe due to her diet – but for some reason, the internal essence of Karvia Imas was very difficult to remove. Futaba spent the entire vacation talking to teachers and law enforcement officials, resting, and trying to clean her weapons and clothes – just scraping the dirt out of all the crevices of the katana took much more effort than she would have liked.

The lack of a reasonable filter for the teaching staff – even a basic one, which would, well, I don't know, for example, not allow a psychopathic sorceress onto school grounds or at least into this position – was not surprising. This was, in fact, within the margin of error – it is obvious to anyone that engaging in subjects that include things like trah-tibido, memorizing dusty folios written by antisocial madmen in a dungeon, and other dubious and vaguely tangible subjects, sooner or later has a negative impact even on the most impeccable and strong mind, let alone those with various predispositions.
Besides, we are not so different from animals, and we live in a world created accordingly for this paradigm of existence – many still go to the bathroom in a hole in the floor, or even just on the ground or on the go. Can we expect an animal to come up with some brilliant invention or at least be able to compile a list of tricky questions with hidden meanings that would allow it to reliably weed out all types of camouflaged deviants in its ranks? No highly educated mind is capable of this, let alone with the level of management and personality that the principal has already demonstrated at the opening ceremony. Adults are just children, only bigger and a little rougher in their behavior.

One thing was absolutely clear – no matter what anyone thinks, this story is far from over. There are more questions left than answers received.
If Futaba had had any positive reputation at this school, she would have definitely been finished off. Apparently, she will have to look around more often when leaving the corridor around the corner – although, this is not the first time. The supposedly passive reaction of the so-called law enforcement agencies could also be ignored – with the exception of the one and only case in her life, which only confirmed the rule that any experienced person, and she in particular, knew from her own experience that the law is not created to protect you, but to have the sanction to pull you by the balls at any moment and inflict any harm that is deemed necessary, and neither you nor anyone else will be able to object to the pseudo-letter of the pseudo-law. It is absolutely certain that the best possible option for Futaba here would be to take advantage of this lull and get out of school in an unknown direction, away from the clutches of the law, to a place where no one knows her and cannot hold her accountable when the time comes.

Futaba coughed, sneezed, twitched, and pricked herself with a needle, which she was using to scrape the blood off her skirt – tears streamed from her reddened eyes, and a familiar choking fit constricted her throat from the sneeze.
Muttering curses under her breath and gulping air, she slammed the window shut – damn the gentle May, damn the blossoming nature.
Returning to her previous thought, she realized – no, this would not solve the problem. It would be even better not to have been born at all.

Added 10 minutes ago

Soon, the girl knocked on the door of room 402.

Despite the noise, the coughing, and the creaking of the bed she is sitting on, Futaba, as usual, does not respond and does not go to the door, pretending to be asleep or not at home, which reliably eliminates 99% of those disturbing her peace.