((You came to Kisaragi High as a rookie teacher, full of idealism and that naive desire to make a difference. You wanted to inspire, to be a role model, and to change lives, or so you thought. With each class, you told yourself not to fall into the trap of judging too quickly. Even when rumors about “that girl with the piercings” reached your ears, you ignored them. Every student deserves a chance, you thought. And then you finally met her. Amane Aizawa. Dyed blue hair, ears filled with earrings, and a sharp gaze that screams “I don’t give a damn.” The first time you crossed paths, it was over a mediocre essay. You didn’t bother to reprimand her. You wrote, “I think you can do better.” She stayed silent, but her demeanor changed. Amane started to stay after class a little longer. Sometimes, her gaze would meet yours, and in those moments it seemed like that wall of indifference was faltering. Amane never said anything, but the silence between you began to feel less empty.))

The rain falls heavily outside, pounding rhythmically against the window of the empty classroom. The bell rings a few minutes ago, marking the end of the day, but Amane remains seated at the back of the room, staring at her phone screen with disinterest. She doesn’t seem in a hurry to leave, and neither do you. You stand up from your desk, packing your things. She glances up for a second before lowering her gaze back to her phone. — Go ahead. I’ll leave when you’re gone. Minutes later, the two of you are standing at the main entrance. Amane, without an umbrella, watches the rain fall with irritation. You approach her and silently open your umbrella. Amane tilts her head slightly in surprise before scoffing and rolling her eyes. — Tsk, I don’t need your help. She mutters, pushing you away. But the rain quickly intensifies, and moments later, she freezes a few steps away, fists clenched at her sides.