Akina Izumi glanced inadvertently at the long braid that fell over her left shoulder, noticing several strands of black hair growing amidst the snow-white ones.

Her beautiful brows furrowed slightly as she said helplessly, “Is it time to dye my hair again? Although there aren’t many black strands yet, just to be safe, I should get it redyed.”

After saying this, Akina Izumi took out her phone and made a call.

“Hello? Miss Minamoto? Do you have time this afternoon? I’d like to ask you to help me dye my hair again. Yes, that’s right—still snow white. Okay, thank you very much. See you this afternoon.”

After making an appointment at the hair salon she frequented, Akina Izumi put her phone back into her handbag.

A few minutes later, she arrived at the gate of Sobu High School, where many parents had already begun to gather.

“This is the high school Kotomi attends… Now that I think about it, this is actually the first time I’ve visited my eldest daughter’s high school. I’d originally planned to attend the entrance ceremony with her, but back in her kindergarten, elementary, and middle school days, Kotomi used to cling to her parents so tightly that she wouldn’t let go—she always insisted on attending the entrance ceremonies with us.

“Yet when she entered high school, she suddenly seemed so much more mature and insisted on going alone. She’s really grown up, learned to be independent… As happy as that makes me, I can’t help but miss the little Kotomi who used to cling to us like a kitten.”

Akina Izumi sighed softly as she looked at the school gate, nostalgia flickering in her eyes.

Before stepping inside, she took out her phone again, switched it to silent mode, and tucked it back into her handbag.

Perhaps because of today’s parent-teacher meetings, the school had prepared clear signs to guide visiting parents. Following them, Akina easily found her way to Class 1-F’s classroom.

Even though she already knew where Kotomi sat, she still carefully checked the seating chart posted on the blackboard to make sure she didn’t accidentally take someone else’s seat.

To her surprise—this time, Kotomi had actually told her the truth!

She remembered one parent meeting back in Kotomi’s third year of elementary school—when her daughter had deliberately told her the wrong classroom and seat number.

Of course, even then, Akina hadn’t sat in the wrong place.

After all, she hadn’t believed Kotomi’s directions from the start.

Even if the classroom number had been wrong, she could still find the right one by following the class sequence. And as for the seat—well, back then Kotomi’s grades weren’t exactly ideal. Yet the seat she’d mentioned was the one right next to the teacher’s desk—a spot clearly reserved for top students!

With Kotomi’s grades at that time, how could she possibly be sitting in such a place?

When Akina checked the seating chart that day, she quickly found where her daughter really sat.

That was how she developed the habit of checking the seating chart every time she attended Kotomi’s parent-teacher meetings. Who knew when Kotomi might mischievously tell her the wrong seat again?

And now—Kotomi had actually told her the truth!

“Honestly… another sign that she’s growing up and behaving sensibly. But still, I can’t help but miss the silly, mischievous little Kotomi…”

She couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the thought.

“Only when she was being a little mischievous did I have an excuse to pinch those soft cheeks of hers…”

Come to think of it, it had been quite some time since she’d last pinched Kotomi’s cheeks. She’d have to find an excuse soon.

Both her husband and she had always loved pinching Kotomi’s cheeks—that little face that could melt hearts with a single touch. Just rubbing it gently would fill one with warmth. And as a mother, Akina always pinched with special enthusiasm.

Akina Izumi sat down in Kotomi’s seat and placed her handbag in the desk compartment. The seats around her were still empty—she seemed to be one of the earliest to arrive.

With nothing else to do, she glanced around the classroom, then turned her gaze back to Kotomi’s desk.

“This would be a great spot to secretly play with a phone during class,” she mused, immediately realizing the strategic advantage of her daughter’s seat.

The seat was against the wall, tucked in the inner row, a fair distance from both the front and back doors. During class, if one stacked two piles of textbooks in front, left an open notebook beside them, and placed a phone on the open page, one could easily play with the phone in plain sight when the teacher wasn’t around. And when the teacher approached, a simple flip of the notebook page would instantly conceal it.

This spot was practically a battlefield prize for students who loved to slack off during class!

Akina Izumi couldn’t help but feel envious as she ran her hand over Kotomi Izumi’s desk. If she’d had such a great seat when she was in school, she might not have had so many of her novels and manga confiscated by teachers.

“Mrs. Izumi, you came so early.”

Turning toward the voice, Akina saw Ikemi Kato walking into the classroom. The woman quickened her steps with a polite smile.

“Yes,” Akina replied with a light smile. “It’s my first time visiting Sobu High, and since I wasn’t familiar with the exact location of my daughter’s classroom, I decided to leave a bit earlier to avoid being late.”

“I asked Megumi about her seat last night,” Ikemi said, sitting down beside her. “That’s when I learned she and Kotomi are seatmates. Honestly, this child—she’s sitting next to such a wonderful classmate, yet she doesn’t even think to ask for study help. Her grades did improve on the midterms, but the progress was so slight.”

When it came to her daughter’s academic performance, Ikemi Kato always wore a troubled expression—as if Megumi’s grades were terrible.

But in truth, Megumi’s academic performance was far from poor. She was even considered one of the better students—just one whose presence tended to go unnoticed.

As a mother, Ikemi could see the effort Megumi put into her studies, knew how hard she worked. Yet every time exam results came out, she couldn’t help feeling dissatisfied, thinking—if only Megumi worked a little harder, wouldn’t her grades be even higher?

She always believed that Megumi wasn’t trying hard enough, never realizing that her expectations had become a crushing weight. Those expectations were so heavy that Megumi could barely take even a single step toward meeting them.

To put it bluntly, if Kotomi Izumi hadn’t become Megumi’s girlfriend—giving her an outlet for emotional release, comfort, and hope—Ikemi Kato’s relentless pressure would have long since broken her.

“As long as the child is doing her best, that’s what matters. Besides, Megumi’s grades are already quite good,” Akina Izumi said with a gentle smile.

Ikemi, however, shook her head with a sigh.

“Compared to Kotomi, who ranks first in all of Tokyo, it’s nothing. I don’t expect her to be the top of the nation or the year, but if she could at least make the top ten of her grade, I’d be satisfied.

“The university I hope she can enter has an extremely high cutoff score—and it rises every year. Even if her grades meet the requirements now, who can guarantee they’ll be enough three years from now?

“Of course, in the end, it still comes down to her not working hard enough. Every time I bring up her studies, I just get angry. I honestly don’t know where she spends all her time and energy.

“Especially this time—she made a bit of progress and immediately got complacent, completely unaware that her rate of improvement has slowed since the last monthly exam.”

After listening to Ikemi Kato’s words, Akina Izumi couldn’t help furrowing her brow slightly. She wanted to ask her one question:

The university you want her to enter—is it truly the one she wants for herself?

Although Akina Izumi didn’t entirely agree with Ikemi Kato’s approach to education, she didn’t voice her disagreement. There were things she could say, but this wasn’t the right time.

Instead, Akina offered a gentle smile and said:

“I think when it comes to raising children, it’s fine to give them some pressure, but not too much. If the pressure becomes excessive, the issue won’t just be about whether the child can catch their breath—it’ll be whether they still have the confidence and courage to take the next step on their own.”

“Mrs. Izumi, you’re really quite relaxed when it comes to parenting. I just can’t bring myself to let Megumi take it easy. What mother wouldn’t feel sorry to see her daughter so exhausted from studying? But when I think about it, I’d rather she lose a bit of her carefree childhood to study hard now than see her regret it in the future—when she graduates from university and realizes all her dream companies have strict academic requirements.”

Ikemi Kato spoke her thoughts openly. She knew she put a lot of pressure on Megumi. Even though she was aware of it, she always comforted herself, believing that when Megumi finally got into university, she would understand her mother’s intentions.

Little did she know that if Kotomi Izumi hadn’t appeared in Megumi’s life, Megumi might never have made it to the university entrance exams under such relentless pressure. Her spirit would have broken long before that.

Hearing Ikemi’s words, Akina Izumi couldn’t help frowning slightly, but she still smiled and chose not to press further. She casually steered the conversation to another topic.

By now, more parents had begun arriving in the classroom. Those who already knew one another exchanged greetings, while newcomers took the opportunity to introduce themselves, exchange contact information, and make light conversation.

After all, the idea of homeroom teachers creating parent group chats wasn’t particularly popular in Japanese schools.

Teachers found them troublesome, and so did parents.

If there was something to discuss with a student’s parents, a direct phone call or meeting at school would do just fine.

Tomoka Yuigahama jogged down the hall and finally reached Class 1-F’s room—she had accidentally gone to the wrong floor earlier! No wonder she’d been confused to find only third-year classrooms there.

Kotomi Izumi often thought that Mrs. Yuigahama’s little mishaps were adorable—and honestly, she wasn’t wrong.

It was partly because of that that Kotomi’s idea of her ideal future wife had gradually shifted over time:

At first: I want to marry someone gentle and graceful, like Mrs. Yuigahama!

Then: I want to marry someone playful and cute, like Mrs. Yuigahama!

And now, it had become: I want to marry Mrs. Yuigahama!

Kazumi once teased her, saying, “Even Cao Cao would see you as a kindred spirit.”

To that, Kotomi had her own, perfectly serious reply:

“I just want to give Yui and Yuka a complete family!”

Tomoka Yuigahama arrived and sat in Yui Yuigahama’s seat. Before sitting down, she greeted the two mothers behind her—Akina Izumi and Ikemi Kato. At this point, she still hadn’t realized that Akina was Kotomi’s mother.

That was because Yui hadn’t mentioned that Kotomi’s seat was directly behind hers. Of course, if Tomoka had taken a closer look at the seating chart earlier, she would have noticed.

As the three mothers exchanged a few polite words, Akina suddenly felt that Tomoka Yuigahama’s voice sounded strangely familiar. She didn’t have time to ask about it, though, because the bell rang—signaling the start of the parent-teacher meeting.

…

Twenty minutes before the meeting began, Shizuka Hiratsuka sat in the teachers’ office, reviewing her speech one last time. She had written quite a bit, but hadn’t managed to memorize it. Back in her school days, memorization had always been one of her weakest skills.

She had tried practicing the speech the night before—but after only a few lines, she had somehow fallen asleep.

When Shizuka was a student, the thing that could put her to sleep faster than any lecture… was memorizing text.

“Shizuka, are you sure you don’t want to try memorizing your speech one more time?” asked Chihiro Sengoku as she tidied her desk and looked over at Shizuka Hiratsuka.

“No need. It’s several thousand words—how could I possibly memorize all that? Besides, since I wrote the speech myself, I already have a clear idea of what I want to say and how to say it. The overall structure is fixed in my mind. I’ll just improvise a bit during the meeting,” Shizuka replied with a shrug, showing no intention of cramming her speech.

After all, thinking back to previous parent-teacher meetings, she couldn’t remember ever memorizing a script before. And yet, hadn’t each one gone perfectly fine?

“Hehe, I saw the homeroom teacher for Class 1-B this morning—she was still practicing her speech. You, on the other hand, are taking it easy and planning to wing it,” Chihiro teased.

“Memorizing a speech only helps teachers stay familiar with the meeting’s flow. When the actual meeting starts, you still have to improvise. Anyway, enough talk—I’ll finish this bottle of water and then head to the classroom. You’d better get going too. Aren’t you attending as Mashiro Shiina’s guardian?”

“Hehe, true! Then I’ll head over first. Good luck, Shizuka!” Chihiro waved as she left the office, heading toward Class 1-F.

Gulp, gulp, gulp—

Shizuka finished her bottle of mineral water, exhaled deeply, and leaned back in her chair. The next hour and a half would be spent hosting the parent-teacher meeting. She had already gone through the procedure several times, and everything was well prepared. There shouldn’t be any issues.

For now, all she needed was to hydrate. While homeroom teachers were technically allowed to bring a water bottle into the meeting, most never actually drank from it—it was there purely for appearances. After all, maintaining a professional image in front of parents mattered. From start to finish, no one ever took a sip.

Lately, her throat had been a little sore, so she wanted to drink plenty before going in.

Picking up her stapled speech, Shizuka took a few deep breaths and lightly patted her cheeks.

“Alright! Time to get into the right mindset. Let’s go host this semester’s parent-teacher meeting! It’s not like it’s my first time—no need to get nervous.”

With full confidence, Shizuka Hiratsuka stepped into Class 1-F’s classroom. The parents, who had been chatting or quietly scrolling on their phones, immediately turned their attention toward her. Her presence alone made it clear—this was the homeroom teacher. Out of respect, everyone naturally fell silent and looked up.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend our parent-teacher meeting this semester. I’m Shizuka Hiratsuka, the homeroom teacher for Class 1-F. On behalf of all the subject teachers, I’d like to express our gratitude for your support.”

Shizuka bowed slightly. Once the polite applause subsided, she continued:

“This year, your children entered high school, and before we knew it, half of their first semester has already passed. The school has held two major exams so far—a monthly test and a midterm. Even if your children didn’t perform as well as expected, please don’t be too anxious or harsh with them.

“To be honest, the difficulty of both exams was significantly higher than in previous years. Many of the questions were drawn directly from past university entrance exams—classic problems, tricky traps where students easily lose points, and a few particularly difficult bonus questions.

“So, when you see your child’s report card, please don’t think first of scolding or punishment. Instead, show them a bit more patience.

“We still have half of the semester left, so let me briefly outline the study plan I’ve set for the students moving forward.”

After summarizing the plan for the rest of the semester, it was time for the part most parents looked forward to—the student commendations.

The homeroom teacher would announce the top exam performers and those who had shown remarkable improvement through effort. Parents loved this part—after all, every parent sent their child to school with the hope that they would excel academically and one day enter a prestigious university.

“Even with the increased difficulty, several students still achieved outstanding results, and others who had struggled at first have made commendable progress thanks to their hard work.

“As the saying goes, a student’s success doesn’t depend solely on the guidance of teachers and parents—the most important thing is whether they can quiet their heart and truly focus on learning.

“For those who achieved excellent results or showed improvement, I’ve prepared certificates of merit. I hope these serve as encouragement—may these students continue to work hard and achieve results they can be proud of.

“And for those who didn’t improve or who may have fallen behind, please don’t be discouraged. Strive harder next time. Certificates are precious, but they can always be earned again. As long as you’re willing to put in the effort, there will always be one waiting with your name on it.”

After saying this, Shizuka Hiratsuka cleared her throat and raised her voice slightly as she announced:

“Now then, first, I’d like to commend our student, Kotomi Izumi. In both the first monthly exam and the midterm, she achieved truly outstanding results—taking first place not only in her grade at Sobu High, but also ranking first across all of Tokyo! I’ve prepared a certificate for her as well. Mrs. Izumi, would you please come forward to accept it on Kotomi’s behalf?”

When Shizuka spoke of Kotomi’s achievement—first in her grade and first in all of Tokyo—her tone was brimming with excitement. It didn’t sound like a homeroom teacher praising a student; it sounded more like she was proudly declaring to the entire world:

“Look how amazing my precious little witch is!”

Chihiro Sengoku, sitting in Mashiro Shiina’s seat, nearly fell out of her chair trying not to laugh. It wasn’t just her imagination—Shizuka’s enthusiasm and joy made it sound less like she was commending a student and more like she was showing off her girlfriend to everyone in the room.

—

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep