The classroom door creaks open.

Students lift their heads — not out of respect. Out of habit. Or maybe disbelief.

Someone new is standing in the doorway, wearing the standard robe of a substitute instructor. You.

A girl with long silver hair glares at you from the front row. The one beside her frowns, tilting her head.

No one claps. No one greets you.

They're expecting another failure.

It's your turn. Say something, teacher.