Same start, different direction

April 10th marked the dawn of a truly miraculous day.

It was a time when students embarked on new chapters of their lives, encountering fresh faces, unique opportunities, and knowledge of varying complexities within the new semester.

On this beautiful morning, at a bustling intersection, Itsuka Shido was bidding farewell to his younger sister.

“Big Brother, it’s all set! Even if a Spatial Quake happens, you still have to come!”

The vibrant, red-haired girl, clad in her middle school uniform, waved energetically at her brother.

After shouting her message, she turned and sprinted toward her school.

In stark contrast to her face, which practically radiated joy, Shido was left standing there, utterly speechless.

‘What did she mean, ‘even if a Spatial Quake happens’? Pay attention to your own safety! Evacuate first!’

Undoubtedly, his mind was thrown into turmoil by her reckless statement.

After watching his sister depart, Shido began the walk to his own school.

“Argh! Yina, why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!”

A black-haired girl with short, cropped hair dashed through the streets, grumbling at the person currently lounging comfortably at home.

[Hehehe, Big Sister, you look so cute when you’re sleeping; I just couldn’t bear to wake you up.]

The voice flowing through her earphones left the girl exasperated.

Even with just the audio, she could vividly imagine the other person tilting her head, sticking out her tongue, and cutely begging for forgiveness.

‘Just two more intersections, then a left turn at the next one…’

There was no time for contemplation.

Just as she prepared to make the turn, a blue-haired boy appeared around the corner.

Time was short, her speed was high, and the boy emerged precisely at the apex of her turn.

Naturally, the two of them…

Did you expect a collision, leading to a serendipitous accident and convenient plot development, followed by a demand for compensation and an inevitable romance—the classic dating sim trope?

Not a chance.

The boy didn’t even get a clear look at the other person’s face.

He only registered someone executing a graceful pivot directly in front of him, narrowly avoiding impact before accelerating away.

‘Who was that just now? If I hadn’t stopped, they would have easily been knocked off balance.’

Watching the retreating figure and the masculine attire, Shido instinctively assumed the stranger was male.

Without further thought, he leisurely continued on his way; after all, it was the first day of school, and there was no need to rush.

‘Ah, that was close. Missed by a hair’s breadth!’

The girl glanced back over her shoulder.

The boy was looking at her, perhaps out of curiosity or irritation.

‘I should apologize to him later.’

Thinking this rather haphazardly, the girl silently picked up her pace.

Unlike students, teachers were required to arrive early to familiarize themselves with various tasks for the new semester—a rule that applied doubly to newly appointed staff.

As for why she was so late?

Someone had stayed up researching, only to be caught red-handed by her younger sister during a late-night bathroom break, and was subsequently forced to sleep under strict supervision.

Coupled with a disrupted sleep schedule, a difficulty in waking up, and the aforementioned sister thinking she was “too cute to wake,” along with a futile thirty-minute wait for a suspended bus service, the girl was now forced to run to school on foot.

‘I definitely need to buy a car later. At least then I won’t be stranded by a bus schedule.’

The girl, constantly checking her watch to calculate the seconds, thought helplessly.

Middle school was a peculiar environment.

Here, one could find various archetypes of younger sisters often seen in anime—mostly because anime sisters tended to be middle schoolers.

In other words, it was a paradise for those with a sister complex, though naturally, it was also teeming with chuunibyou adolescents.

Unfortunately, our protagonist was not a student.

She was a professional embodying hope and dedication, renowned for her selflessness, and a caregiver who worried endlessly for her charges.

Yes, she was an art teacher.

“Excuse me, I’m late.”

The girl, panting slightly, addressed the assembly in the hall.

All eyes turned toward her, though the attention did not surprise the speaker on the stage.

“The final teacher has arrived. Ms. Shimazaki, please come up to the stage.”

For a moment, Yisha thought she had misheard, but then a cold sweat broke out along her spine.

Gathering her thoughts, she realized the situation: she was late, and the principal was calling her up.

Was this not clearly a public execution?

This wouldn’t do; while being late on her first day was mortifying, she absolutely could not be made an example of.

If she were branded as a negative example now, how would she ever build good relationships at work?

“Hello, I am the newly appointed teacher, Shimazaki Yisha. Please take care of me.”

“Ah, hello.”

The principal smiled warmly, seemingly eager to build a rapport, but Yisha imagined his inner thoughts were quite different.

‘Hmph, a glory-hound who’s late on her first day still wants to suck up to me? The nerve!’

Such a scenario was terrifying just to imagine.

“I apologize for my lateness—though it was only one minute. I promise it won’t happen again!”

She decisively bowed, demonstrating an excellent attitude of admitting fault.

No matter how strict one might be, surely it would be impolite to rebuke someone offering such a sincere apology in a public setting… right?

“Ms. Shimazaki, there’s no need to be nervous. Your arrival time was scheduled ten minutes later than everyone else’s, so you are not late.”

The principal seemed to see through Yisha’s anxiety and immediately dispelled her concerns.

“?”

Though puzzled, Yisha was relieved it wasn’t a public execution and complied, standing firmly on the stage.

“Alright, next I will introduce Ms. Shimazaki Yisha to everyone.”

“!”

At this, Yisha finally understood the principal’s intentions.

However, as a subordinate, she couldn’t refuse him face, especially not in front of a hundred teachers and security cameras.

“Ms. Shimazaki Yisha was formerly a professor in the Dance Department at the University of Tokyo and has traveled abroad multiple times for exchange and study. Her students are among the best in the industry, and she is deeply dedicated to her craft. Additionally, she is proficient in various musical instruments and has even substituted for colleagues in related courses, earning high praise.”

Accompanying the introduction were photos flashing on the screen behind her.

Most were of Yisha posing with people from other schools, but there were also a few of her gracefully dancing on stage.

Yisha felt a headache coming on; she hadn’t included any of this on her resume, so how did the principal know?

More importantly, her dream of an anonymous life as a humble teacher in an obscure middle school was utterly shattered.

“From now on, she will be your colleague. I hope everyone can communicate and learn from each other to make our school more prosperous and our students more outstanding!”

As his words fell, warm applause erupted in the hall.

The teachers gazed at the graceful girl on stage, their faces filled with surprise—perhaps at her impressive background, or perhaps at her youth relative to such accomplishments.

“So, Principal, how did you know all of this?”

A smile graced the girl’s face, yet instead of warmth, the principal felt a shiver creep up his spine.

“Our school has struggled to fill its student roster recently; we need sufficient appeal, don’t we? Ms. Shimazaki, rest assured, your work will be incredibly easy. You could simply lend your name.”

As a principal, he was naturally shrewd; he understood why someone of her caliber had come to a remote area to teach, and he immediately laid out his terms.

He then waved his hand, dismissing the assembly.

“The meeting is adjourned. Everyone may proceed to their classes.”

“Then, Principal, I will also go to the class I’m responsible for.”

After much effort, Yisha finally reined in her turbulent emotions.

“Oh, right. Mr. Uesugi fell ill and requested leave this morning. You will be teaching his class today.”

Snap.

Something in Yisha’s mind seemed to break.

“Ms. Shimazaki, are you feeling unwell? You don’t look so good.”

“No, I’m perfectly fine. It’s just that I’d like to have a private chat with you later, Principal. You don’t mind, do you?”

“How could I? I’d be delighted… but please, be gentle.”

Knowing he was in the wrong, the principal pressed his palms together, his attitude exceptionally sincere.

Yisha guessed he had no choice; with no other substitute available, he had to push her forward.

Facing his swift capitulation, she could only sigh.

“I understand. Thank you, Principal.”