A simple, peaceful house. In the background, the soft strains of Eugen Doga's Waltz of Love drifted through the air. A young girl in her late twenties, lost in the music, danced gracefully. Though ballroom music was best paired with a partner, to her, this melody was a release key that unlocked her emotions. She moved in rhythm, letting the magical tune guide her across her art studio, like an autumn leaf dancing with the wind as it falls.
When exhaustion finally claimed her, she sank gently to the floor, drawing in slow, steady breaths, allowing her body to relax. Her mind drifted back to a conversation from the previous evening.
After struggling for so long to truly breathe, Yunara had finally decided to start anew. Her latest decision was to become a teacher. She wasn't entirely sure why, but something within her longed to share what she had once lost-things that had slipped through her fingers. Teaching, she believed, was the most natural, heartfelt way to do it.
"Miss Yanvi... We warmly welcome you to our school. But there's something you should know," the principal had said. "The class you're about to take on is... different. The students there aren't used to listening. Sure, kids can be unruly, but these ones... they're on another level. We even tried moving them to other classes, but their parents wouldn't allow it. After all, they pay the school fees, so no one dares interfere."
"Complaints from day one?" Yunara thought. She hated that.
"The teachers here don't last long. Most of them give up. Subject teachers manage somehow but as a class teacher... I felt I should warn you. They're stubborn, and when they're together, they won't hesitate to challenge you-like a tight-knit family."
Yunara didn't fully understand the warning. At least they're united, she mused.
"I'll keep that in mind, sir. Thank you for this opportunity. Now, excuse me," she replied, leaving the principal's office and making her way to her new classroom. Along the way, she overheard unsettling remarks from other teachers about the students. But instead of stepping in immediately, she paused at the door, peering through the glass to observe them.
Some students chatted, others sang, and a few were caught in a minor quarrel. But before it escalated, something unusual happened-they settled it among themselves.
"Not today. I'll come in tomorrow," she decided, stepping away with a soft sigh.
The night passed along with the moon...
Then came the day-the day she would finally step into the classroom as their teacher.
I believe I can be the teacher they need, she thought.
Taking a deep breath, Yunara pushed open the door. Instantly, the room buzzed with its usual chaos: laughter, murmurs, and paper balls flying across the room. Someone drummed on a desk, while others exchanged mischievous glances.
Without a word, she strode to the teacher's desk, leaned casually against it, and folded her arms, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Slowly, like a ripple spreading through still water, the students began to notice. The drumming stopped. Whispered questions filled the room.
"Who's that?"
"New teacher?"
"Another one? Ha... she won't last a week."
Dion, the class troublemaker, reclined in his chair with a smirk.
"Lost, Miss?" he called.
A few snickers rippled through the class. Yunara tilted her head and replied calmly,
"Should I be?"
A hush fell. Dion raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know what kind of class this is?"
"I do," she answered evenly. "And I know a bit about you too, Dion."
A murmur of surprise passed through the room-no one had told her his name.
Dion leaned forward, intrigued. "Oh yeah? And what do you know?"
Yunara tapped her chin, pretending to think. "Hmm... mischievous, too clever for his own good, a natural leader-loud, yet observant. And let's see... not nearly as intimidating as he thinks he is."
Laughter erupted across the room.
Dion's smirk wavered, and then he grinned. "You're not bad, Miss."
"I try," Yunara said warmly.
Before she could continue, Kiara, the class leader, crossed her arms and asked, "Miss, who are you?"
Yunara smiled to herself. Things were going exactly the way she wanted. She had never believed in forcing control through shouting or punishments-it just wasn't who she was.
"I'm Yunara... Yunara Yanvi. You can talk to me however you like. From today, I'm your class teacher. And I think... You won't find me so bad."
Silence.
Since they had started high school, for two whole years, all they had ever heard was:
"You are the most troublesome students."
"You make things difficult for everyone."
"You're impossible to handle."
But this teacher... she hadn't said a single bad word about them. For the first time, they weren't thinking about what she thought of them.
They were wondering what they thought of her.
The clock was doing its job. Tik tik.
She retrieved a stack of papers from her file. "Alright, let's start with something simple. Take out a piece of paper-ah, no. I'll give you one. Write down the things you like and the things you don't. You can include your name if you'd like or keep it anonymous."
A murmur of suspicion rippled through the class.
"What's the catch?" a girl in the back asked.
"No catch-just a way for me to get to know you. Not from what others say about you. From you."
Sceptical glances were exchanged.
"You're not going to scold us? No lectures, no punishments?" Nivya, the girl who had been silent until now, asked.
"Would that really help?" Yunara replied, meeting her gaze.
Nivya hesitated. The room stayed silent.
Then, as the students began writing, a sharp tapping on the door startled them all.
A boy burst in-not the usually quiet, obedient errand boy they were used to, but a flurry of panic and disarray. His eyes darted wildly, his face flushed as he clutched a crumpled message sheet. In his haste, several loose papers tumbled to the floor.
For a long, breathless moment, the class froze. Some students exchanged bewildered looks, unsure whether to laugh, sympathise, or simply stare at the unexpected chaos. His dishevelled hair, trembling hands, and stuttering words painted a vivid picture of pure panic.
"Hey... my child, are you okay?" Yunara reached the boy and asked gently, concerned that he might collapse at any moment. She gestured for him to place everything in his hand on a nearby desk. He obeyed, hurriedly picking up the fallen papers.
"You okay now?"
The boy nodded.
"I'm Yunara. Yunara Yanvi. The new class teacher of this class. And you?"
"I'm... I'm Isadul, Miss Yan."
Yunara's mind jolted-Her mind went somewhere. To be specific to someone. -to someone who used to call her "Yan". But she quickly reeled her thoughts back in. With a sigh.
"And you came for?"
"Uh... Oh... Um..." Isadul stammered. "Miss Yanvi, the music teacher, asked the orchestra members to come for practice. The skating teacher wants Sayan and Ashvidh. The basketball coach asked for Dion and Ren and the netball coach asked for Kiara and Nivya. And... and the headmaster wants the project leaders to meet him."
The room sighed in unison. They had expected this-and they were waiting for her reaction.
But Yunara remained calm, her voice firm yet gentle.
"Yes, dear, I understand," she said. "I'll let them know. Go back carefully, okay?" She patted his head lightly.
"Now, take these things and return to your duties."
A stunned silence filled the room.
"Thank you, Isadul. Please be careful," she added with a reassuring smile.
Sure, she sensed something about him. But she kept it to herself.
Mumbling a barely audible "Yes, Miss," Isadul scurried out, leaving behind hushed whispers and curious glances.
"You all should go now, shouldn't you?"
Shock, disbelief, confusion-that was all she saw on their faces.
"You're really letting us go? No complaints? No scoldings?" someone asked.
Yunara raised an eyebrow. "Would scolding help?"
"...No," Kiara admitted.
"Good. When you have time, complete the task I gave you and hand it over to me. You may go now."
"Thank you, Miss Yan," Kiara murmured before leading the others out.
As they left, Yunara looked at the remaining students.
"Alright, let's continue. Once you're done, I'll tell you what I'll be teaching this semester."
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