Chapter 32 – “Teacher and Teacher”

Morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, spilling warmth across the tiny apartment. The smell of toasted bread and fresh coffee filled the air — a daily ritual that had, over the years, become as natural as breathing.

“Daichi, you’ll be late again,” Riko said, her voice half-chiding, half-affectionate as she flipped an egg in the pan.

From the living room came a groan. “Five more minutes, Sensei.”

Riko rolled her eyes. “You’re supposed to be a sensei, remember?”

Daichi appeared in the doorway, tie half-done, hair slightly messy, the same lazy grin he’d had since college. “Correction — the coolest English sensei.”

She sighed, smiling despite herself. “The coolest sensei who can’t make it to homeroom on time.”

He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “That’s because my favorite teacher keeps distracting me before work.”

Riko’s face flushed. “Y-You’re impossible.”

He chuckled softly. “And you love it.”

Their mornings were a gentle chaos — coffee cups half-filled, ties misplaced, lesson plans scattered among breakfast plates. But amid the mess, there was a kind of peace — a quiet joy that came from years of growing together.

---

At Sakuragaoka Elementary, Riko Tachibana was adored by her students.

“Riko-sensei! Riko-sensei! Look, I drew you!” cried one little boy, holding up a crayon sketch of a smiling teacher with a crown.

Riko gasped dramatically. “A crown? Am I a queen now?”

“Yes!” the class chorused.

She clutched her heart. “Then you must all be my royal students!”

The room erupted with laughter.

It was moments like these that made every long night of lesson planning worth it. The way children’s eyes lit up when they understood something, the hugs after class, the joy of seeing them grow — Riko had found her calling.

---

Across town, Daichi Sakamoto stood before a class of high schoolers, his voice calm but magnetic.

“So,” he said, scribbling on the board, “Shakespeare wrote, ‘Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.’ Any thoughts?”

A hand shot up. “It means… real love doesn’t change, even if people do?”

Daichi smiled. “Exactly. Love that endures grows with you — not away from you.”

The bell rang, and students filed out, chatting. A few lingered, whispering and giggling as Daichi erased the board.

“Sensei,” one girl said shyly, “is it true your girlfriend's an elementary teacher?”

He turned, amused. “Who told you that?”

“Everyone says she’s super cute, and that you two met in college!”

Daichi chuckled. “Rumors travel fast, huh?”

“So it’s true?”

He smiled, eyes soft. “Let’s just say… I’m lucky to teach beside my favorite person in life.”

The students swooned. “Aww!”

---

That weekend, both schools hosted a joint community event — a rare collaboration between elementary and high school students.

Riko stood by her booth, watching children run about with art supplies while older students helped supervise.

“Excuse me, Sensei?” a tall student asked. “Do you know where Sakamoto-sensei is?”

Riko blinked. “You mean Daichi?”

The boy’s eyes widened. “You… you call him by name?”

Before she could answer, a familiar voice called out, “Riko!”

Daichi approached, sleeves rolled up, clipboard in hand — every bit the calm, collected teacher. The high school girls nearby instantly broke into hushed squeals.

“He’s here!”

“He’s so handsome in person!”

“Wait, that’s her husband?!”

Riko could feel their stares. “Daichi,” she muttered through her smile, “your fan club’s growing again.”

He leaned close, pretending to whisper instructions but really just teasing, “Jealous, Sensei?”

“Not at all,” she said sweetly. “Just wondering if your fan club will help you wash dishes tonight.”

“Ouch. Noted.”

---

As the event went on, Mina appeared, camera in hand and grin as mischievous as ever.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite celebrity couple!” she cheered. “Still together, still adorable, and still oblivious to personal space!”

Riko laughed. “Mina! What are you doing here?”

“Covering the event for our education blog. And honestly,” Mina said, snapping a few photos, “you two are the perfect headline. ‘From Classroom Crush to Married Teachers: The RikoDaichi Love Story.’”

Daichi groaned. “You’re still on that?”

“Of course! The internet still ships you!”

Riko buried her face in her hands. “Please tell me this won’t trend again.”

Mina winked. “Too late.”

---

Later that afternoon, after the event ended, Riko stood alone in her classroom, tidying up stray crayons and papers.

She hummed softly, lost in thought — until warm arms slid around her waist from behind.

“Daichi—!” she gasped, turning slightly. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be—”

He silenced her with a soft kiss, quick but tender, just like he had back at their high school festival years ago.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers. “Still my favorite stage,” he murmured.

Her heart fluttered, the memory washing over her — that awkward, innocent kiss years ago under paper lanterns and laughter. Only now, it wasn’t awkward. It was home.

She smiled, eyes shimmering. “You know, you’re going to make me cry before class.”

“Then I’ll grade the tears,” he teased softly. “A+ in emotion.”

She swatted his arm, laughing.

---

That evening, back home, the domestic chaos continued as always.

Daichi burned the miso soup — again. Riko accidentally left her phone in the fridge. They argued over who forgot to buy rice, only to realize it was both of them.

And yet, as they sat together eating convenience store dinner under the warm kitchen light, Riko felt a quiet, complete happiness.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Remember when we used to dream about this?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Back when we thought being adults meant eating out every night.”

“And now look at us,” she said, smiling. “Two teachers eating instant ramen.”

“Hey, ramen’s sacred,” Daichi said solemnly.

They laughed together — the sound soft, lived-in, and full of love.

---

The next morning, as Riko walked past Daichi’s classroom window on her way to hers, she paused and smiled. Through the glass, she could see him teaching — confident, patient, at peace.

He looked up, met her eyes, and smiled back.

The bell rang. Students poured in, chattering and laughing.

Riko turned to her own classroom, where her students waited eagerly. She placed a hand over her heart — steady, warm, and full.

> As the school bell rang, Riko whispered,

“Different classrooms, same heartbeat.”