V6 Prologue: The One Who Dwells Within part 2

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Translator: Soafp

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“Ugh… muscle soreness… I pushed myself too hard.”

Naturally, I lost the race against Inukichi, but it was more fun than I expected. Still, I was exhausted.

After finishing our walk and returning home, I took a shower to wash off the sweat. I carefully washed my hair and body, then soaked in the tub, letting the fatigue melt away from every inch of my body.

Though my muscles continued to ache relentlessly, the physical activity had cleared my mind.

“…Since I ran today, I think I'll have some Kyoho grapes later.”

I had bought them specifically to eat after my bath. No one was around to hear me, but for some reason, I still muttered a childish excuse out loud. Autumn brings with it far too many tempting indulgences.

I had always taken Inukichi for walks, but recently I had been doing it more often and for longer periods. It was part of my effort to build stamina.

At the upcoming school sports festival, teachers would also be participating in some events. The students are, of course, the main stars—but as an adult, I couldn't afford to look completely pathetic in front of them.

“Though honestly, that's just the official excuse…”

I understood. What had really changed was the way I faced things.

The me from last year wouldn't have even thought about building up stamina for the sports festival. I would've stood back and just watched from a distance.

Amid the noise, I would've simply been there as an outsider. That had always been my place.

I couldn't enjoy anything. But now I see—I had been avoiding it all without even realizing it.

Why? Because it was the path I chose after running away. After fleeing from being an elementary school homeroom teacher.

But having no other option, I had no choice but to return to the path of teaching. It was the only thing left I could cling to. People often say our potential is limitless—but in reality, that's not true.

As we age, possibilities narrow. If you don't challenge yourself, no new paths will open.

For someone like me, who kept turning away from reality, there was nothing left.

I was afraid of ruining the futures of children. That's why I chose to teach high school students—because they're old enough to take personal responsibility. And in doing so, I tried to protect my fragile pride and sense of identity as a teacher.

I had been living behind a façade, puffed up with meaningless pride.

So shallow. Too shallow. In the end, I was just dressing myself up in the costume of a teacher.

No noble ambitions, no lingering passion. Just a pitiful attempt at self-preservation, hiding behind the title of “educator.”

I was barely holding myself together, pretending everything was fine.

And I hated myself for that.

I was disappointed in the version of me that had given up so easily.

There's something I've come to understand at this age

To live one's own life means to make one's own choices. Because my parents told me to. Because that's what people around me said. The fragility of a person who lives simply by going along with others. I became a teacher because the Sanjoji family had been a family of teachers for generations.

But—was that really the path I truly wanted to take? The answer is no.

To take responsibility for your own decisions— I lived without understanding how important that is. So what could someone like me possibly teach their students?

If it's a path you chose yourself, even if it doesn't go well, you'll have the strength to endure it. You'll be able to hold your ground. But I didn't have that strength.

I kept running from facing reality. Told myself I wasn't qualified. Closed the lid on even thinking about my own life.
Shut my eyes and pretended not to see anything, irresponsibly looking away.

What a meaningless life.

And yet, when I close my eyes, I remember—The sense of excitement in my chest when I saw the possibilities she had shown me.

“Misaki-san… She looked so happy…”

I've seen her cry twice. The first time was filled with cruelty, pain, and coldness. The second time was overflowing with warmth and happiness.

Her expressions couldn't have been more different. The first time, she was crushed by despair. The second, she had found hope and was smiling. She was breathtaking—beautiful, noble, and radiant.

Misaki-san says she respects me, but the truth is she's far more admirable than I ever was, just wallowing in self-pity.
You can't hide the kind of charm that shines from within.

She stood back up—out of the darkness.

At the very least, she's now someone who can no longer not choose her path. She shines with a brilliance that's impossible to ignore.

“She's definitely better suited for elementary school, right? With how charming she is, the boys are going to have a hard time.”

If Misaki-san were to return to teaching, and it was at a junior high or high school, there would no doubt be a flood of students falling in love with her—for real. After all, even back in elementary school, that was already happening.

And now, Misaki-san is even more beautiful than she was back then. Even from the perspective of someone of the same sex, she's absolutely stunning.

“…This kind of thing is what they call a ‘serious crush,' right?”

I'm not all that well-versed in these things, but I've been hearing the word oshi (Fave/ idol)—a lot lately.

Given that my job constantly brings me into contact with younger people, keeping my knowledge up-to-date is a must. That, too, is a necessary kind of effort.

“She, on the other hand, seems completely head over heels for him.”

The feelings Misaki-san has for him are special. That didn't come as any surprise. After everything he did for her, anyone would feel the same. It's something instinctual. There's no resisting it.

Her emotions transcend position, age, and every social boundary—a naturally blooming, pure-hearted affection.

“You saved Misaki-san… In that case—”

I couldn't bring myself to say the rest. My thoughts scattered like mist.

Back then, he could only push others away. That was the only way he knew to resist the injustice.

But now, he's someone who faces reality head-on, who keeps growing within infinite possibilities.

He's surpassed his limits, become stronger than anyone—and with dazzling ability, he saved her.
Literally everything. In a way no one else could ever imitate.

And not just Misaki-san.

The person he is now reaches out to everyone around him, with hands as warm as sunlight.

“Such a broad back… It used to be so small, back then.”

I felt relieved that he hadn't lost his kindness

I had nearly taken that kindness away from him—a kindness that could someday accomplish great things and save many people. It was an unforgivable mistake. The thought that I could have snuffed out that potential sent an icy shiver down my spine. It terrified me to my core.

Even I find our relationship strange. It wouldn't be surprising if he hated me. The only thing I deserve is to be quietly condemned, remembered only as a repulsive memory.

I used to think he was a cold-hearted boy. But when we met again, he had become a generous and cheerful young man. Even back then, his heart had been strong—but now, it was supple and flexible, too.

After my mistake, after Misaki-san left, I remained under the same delusion. That's why I kept making the same mistakes over and over again, trying desperately to change things.

If a fight broke out in class, I'd force both sides to apologize and reconcile under the notion of shared blame. I had convinced myself that such a simplistic approach was the right answer.

I never tried to understand the delicate emotional nuances that children naturally possess. Worn out and exhausted, I had no room to think clearly. I should have known better than anyone that forced apologies never resolve resentment.

And so, he never accepted me—not once. He never joined the rest of the class. He spent the year alone, like an outsider. Always looking bored. And he probably was bored.

At some point, I began accepting that reality too. If we didn't interact, I couldn't be hurt any further. Looking back now, maybe he deliberately put himself in that position to avoid clashing with anyone. In truth, even if he was afraid, that fragile peace did continue for a time.

“Back then, you avoided people so much… yet now, you’re surrounded by so many.”

And at some point, I realized—I was among them, too.

The person he is now doesn't push people away. He draws closer to them in order to fulfill his goals.

“…Is it okay if I take your hand, too?”

I'll admit it honestly—this is jealousy. I'm jealous of Misaki-san.

If he saved Misaki-san, if he's going to bring happiness to those around him… then maybe, just maybe, I could be included in that circle too. Maybe it's okay for me to reach out for a happiness I'd once given up on. If it's him—if it's Kokonoe-kun—then maybe…

“…I'm envious.”

I placed a hand on my chest, as if to calm my racing heart.

But I've grown too old to break free of my chains. It's too late to seek freedom.

To act on my emotions and follow my heart—I just can't do that.

The weight of my title hangs heavily on my shoulders, dulling my thoughts. Teachers were once even called sacred. Nowadays, the prevailing view is that we're simply workers, but that old image still lingers. The debate between “teacher as a calling” versus “teacher as a job” remains unresolved.

I have no particular interest in either side, nor do I believe I'm anything noble. But it's also true that being a teacher is still seen as a special position.

I'm a coward. I lack courage. I can't take the first step forward. That's why no one ever finds me.

Because I've never made a single choice in my own life.

“…Then… where is my happiness?”

I know I'm being selfish. But I can't help asking.

I sink down, letting the water cover my shoulders.

Ah, how pathetic.

Because I—Suzuka Sanjoji—am, before I'm a teacher, just another person. Just a woman.

Swaying between emotion and reason.

Ordinary people can't become extraordinary.

Happiness you'll never find in a life of just passing days.

But… can I find it too?

To pursue happiness just as it is— And if I do, then maybe…

Maybe I'll be able to smile, with a pure, innocent expression so radiant that anyone who sees it would be enchanted, just like Misaki-san.

I can't suppress this longing. I understand what this feeling is. Or rather, I understand it too well— and that's exactly why I'll never put it into words.

It's something that must be sealed away for life.

It's an invitation from the ordinary into the extraordinary. And once you take a step forward, all that waits ahead is a thorny path full of pain. Still, I feel so helpless—just standing by as a spectator.

My emotions get rejected by my reason. The coward in me looks away again and runs. And I end up disappointed in myself all over again— hesitating at the most important moment, afraid, envying the unattainable ideal.

“…Time to get out. Any longer and I'll overheat.”

I rise from the bath. My eyes fall on the mirror.

I should be able to see my reflection there— but the steam has fogged it up.

It's as if that foggy mirror perfectly reflects the state of my heart.

It feels that way—this couldn’t possibly be called a “mirror of the heart.”

Without wiping it clean, I leave the bathroom.

A small breath of relief escapes me. I'm glad I didn't see my reflection.

――Because surely, the expression on my face right now must be utterly ugly.

“It’s already this late? I should get to sleep soon.”

There's school tomorrow. I'm already exhausted and worn out. I can't afford to carry this fatigue into the next day.

I close the photo album that had been open and place it back on the shelf.

What I had been looking at was a graduation album—from when I was a homeroom teacher in elementary school.

But to me, it wasn't just a collection of graduation memories. It was a vivid record of how I, in all my foolishness,
led an entire class to collapse.

He isn't in the photos. He refused to be in them.

The expressions of the other students are all dark as well. Compared to the other classes, the difference is painfully obvious at a glance.

This is what I did. I etched it into my heart as something I must never forget.

Photos without smiles—I'm the one who stole those smiles.

Those were days I let slip by, unable to fix anything.

At some point, I began opening that album regularly. As a form of atonement—looking at that broken album.

And maybe…maybe it was back then that a part of my heart broke, too.

Left unfulfilled, I've been searching ever since for a piece I could never hope to find. Even if that search was completely meaningless.

Click.

I turn off the lights and slip into bed.

The drowsiness that washes over me is deeply comforting.

Resisting the urge to sleep, I reached for my smartphone. Although it's not good to use it before bed, opening my phone has become a modern affliction.

“A message? I wonder who it could be…”

A message had arrived on a social media account that I had locked and left unattended. Usually, these are just spam, but I should at least check. With a puzzled expression, I looked at the icon.

I hadn't deleted unused accounts to increase my awareness and sensitivity to troubles that might arise online.

Originally, I never intended to interact with faceless people on the internet.

“Huh?”

I tapped it, and two images were attached, accompanied by a brief sentence of less than a line.

I instantly froze, unable to understand what it meant. My fingers trembled. Before I knew it, I was biting my lip.

“P*rverted teacher”

Along with just those words, there was an image attached showing me entering a love hotel with a student. And the partner in the photo—there was no doubt it was him,

Yukito Kokonoe.