Chapter 1 – Welcome to Misora High

“First day… first day… don’t mess this up, Haru.”Haru Takamine adjusted the lapels of her blazer for the fifth time, gripping her leather satchel like a lifeline as she stepped through the wide gates of Misora High. The early morning sun bathed the campus in gold, students in neat uniforms streaming past her like a tide.Somewhere, a bell chimed, cheerful and terrifying at the same time.Her heart thudded against her ribs. I’m a teacher now. A real teacher. No more internships. No more hiding behind mentors. These kids are counting on me.“Sensei! That new teacher’s cute!” a girl’s voice squealed behind her.Haru froze mid-step.“Look at those—”“Shh! Don’t say that out loud, idiot!”Heat flooded her cheeks. She didn’t need a mirror to know her face was bright red. Oh no. They’re talking about my chest, aren’t they? Haru instinctively crossed her arms, wishing she’d chosen a thicker blouse. Great. First day and I’m already a walking scandal.“Breathe, Haru. Just… breathe,” she whispered to herself, scurrying up the steps.---The staff room smelled faintly of coffee and whiteboard markers. A handful of teachers sat at their desks, chatting in low voices. Haru hovered at the door, clutching her folder.“Ah, you must be the new Social Studies teacher.” A middle-aged man with glasses smiled warmly. “Takamine-san, right? Welcome to Misora High.”“Y-Yes!” Haru bowed so low her forehead nearly hit the desk. Too deep! Too deep! “I’m Haru Takamine. I’ll be teaching first and second-year Social Studies. Please take care of me!”As she straightened, her bag slipped from her shoulder and landed with a thud, scattering papers everywhere.“Oh no, no, no—!” Haru scrambled to pick them up, nearly bumping into a pair of long legs.A soft chuckle floated above her head. “Relax. Happens to everyone on their first day.”Haru looked up—and froze.Standing over her was a woman who looked like she’d stepped out of a sportswear commercial: tall, lean, sun-kissed skin that hinted at outdoor activity, and a navy tracksuit jacket casually slung over her shoulders. Her dark ponytail swayed as she bent down, collecting papers with an easy grace Haru could never dream of.Wow… she’s gorgeous.“Thanks…” Haru mumbled, accepting the stack of worksheets.“No problem.” The woman’s smile was warm but mischievous. “Aya Kurozawa. PE teacher. And you’re… Takamine, right?”“Y-Yes. Haru Takamine.”Aya gave her a quick once-over—professional, but with a glint of curiosity. “Social Studies? Brave. Those kids would rather run laps than memorize history dates.”“I—I’ll try my best,” Haru stammered.Aya grinned, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets. “Good attitude. You’ll need it.”---By third period, Haru had learned three things:1. Misora High’s first-years were loud.2. Her chalk-writing looked like a toddler’s scribbles under pressure.3. Aya Kurozawa was everywhere.Every time Haru peeked into the courtyard, there Aya was—whistle around her neck, laughing with students, effortlessly commanding attention. Boys tried to impress her with half-baked soccer tricks; girls giggled when she adjusted their basketball forms. She was like some cool older sister everyone adored.Meanwhile, Haru? She’d almost spilled tea on the principal during the morning greeting.Focus, Haru! You’re not here to gawk at the PE goddess.“Sensei, what’s the capital of… uh, Italy?” a student asked.Haru blinked. “Rome! Definitely Rome!”The class giggled at her over-enthusiastic tone, and her ears burned again.---Lunch break finally came, and Haru collapsed in the staff room, forehead pressed to the desk. “I’m not cut out for this…”“Rough start?”That voice again. Haru looked up to see Aya balancing a sports drink in one hand, a bent lunchbox in the other. She perched on the edge of Haru’s desk like it was the most natural thing in the world.“Y-Yeah…” Haru admitted with a weak smile. “I almost tripped on my way to class. And my students probably think I’m weird already.”Aya tilted her head, studying her with amused eyes. “You’re clumsy. But… they’ll like you. You seem honest.”Honest. That single word warmed Haru more than the tea she was drinking.“Here.” Aya slid a wrapped rice ball across the desk. “You skipped breakfast, didn’t you?”Haru blinked. “H-How did you—?”“Your stomach’s been growling since second period.” Aya winked.Haru nearly choked on air.---The afternoon crawled by in a blur of chalk dust and awkward laughter. When the final bell rang, Haru sagged in relief—only for her heart to lurch when two students nearly started a scuffle in homeroom over a misplaced phone.“Stop, stop! Please, don’t fight—!” Haru flailed helplessly between them, panic rising.“Oi.”The chaos halted like someone hit pause. Aya stood at the doorway, arms crossed, exuding calm authority. Her sharp tone melted into something gentle as she approached the boys. “What’s going on?”“They… he took my phone!”Aya crouched to eye level, listening patiently before diffusing the tension with a firm but kind lecture. Within minutes, the boys were muttering apologies.Haru exhaled in relief, clutching her pounding chest. “Thank you… I—I didn’t know what to—”Aya smirked, brushing dust off her tracksuit. “You’ll get used to it, newbie.” She slung her bag over her shoulder, pausing at the door. “Need help settling in?”The question hung in the air, casual yet heavy with possibility.Haru stared, words tangled in her throat. “I… guess I could use some help.”Aya’s grin widened. “Thought so. Come on, let’s grab coffee. My treat.”Haru had no idea this was the first step into something far more complicated than lesson plans.