It was the Principal, holding a letter with a gold seal. "Sensei," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "The Regional Board is sending an observer tomorrow. For your first-period class."
She left without writing a single note.
Yowa took a breath. He wrote the first character. His hand still shook, but he didn’t drop the chalk. He turned to the class and, in the softest voice imaginable, began to explain the fall of the shogunate. YOWA YOWA SENSEI Chapter 94 - Read Next Chapter 95
Then, from the front row, the quietest student in class—Hana-chan, who never spoke—stood up. She walked to the board, picked up a new piece of chalk, and placed it gently in Yowa’s trembling fingers.
The observer—a stern woman with spectacles thicker than Yowa’s anxieties—sat in the back row, clipboard ready. The students watched him with a mix of pity and concern. It was the Principal, holding a letter with a gold seal
The final bell had rung an hour ago, but the faculty room still held its usual quiet tension. Yowa Yowa Sensei—frail, pale, and perpetually on the verge of a sneeze—sat hunched over a stack of exams. His pen trembled as he marked a single red circle. A small victory.
The air grew cold. His glasses fogged. He felt the familiar weight of dread settle into his bones. "M-my… class?" he whispered. For your first-period class
Morning came like a guillotine.
Yowa Yowa Sensei’s pen snapped.