To be fair, Tsuzuki Chihiro hadn’t done anything particularly outrageous.
She had simply fed a few casual lies to the security guard at the entrance, using the information she’d gathered in advance to pose as the school’s newly hired substitute teacher.
Of course, being good-looking probably played a crucial role in her plan.
The security guard wasn’t some young guy who lost all reason at the sight of a pretty face, but still, faced with Chihiro’s striking appearance and the way her words aligned perfectly with the details he had, it was only natural that he wouldn’t immediately suspect her of being an impostor.
It had to be said—having an attractive face was an advantage no matter where you went.
If it weren’t for Chihiro’s pride—her unwillingness to rely on her looks to make money in London—she wouldn’t have ended up in such a miserable state.
Once inside the school, things got easier.
She found Class 1-A, then just before class started, intercepted the actual substitute teacher at the door.
Her excuse was simple: she claimed that Miyano-sensei had personally asked her to teach in her place, and after careful consideration, the school had decided to let both her and the current substitute teach together.
She didn’t need to explain too much—after all, the more she said, the more chances there were for inconsistencies. She just had to make sure her story fit the known facts, then subtly steer the other person toward the wrong conclusion.
It helped that the other teacher was a rookie from a dispatch company.
Newcomers often had two common traits: blind confidence in their abilities, and a desperate need to save face when things started going south.
They would rather try to fix things on their own than admit to their superiors that they’d failed.
Chihiro had encountered someone like that before—a bassist she met while forming a band in London.
At first, that bassist was brimming with confidence, convinced that as the “mom” of the band, she could hold everything together.
Then Chihiro quit.
The keyboardist left to go solo.
The drummer announced their retirement.
The vocalist, spooked by the chaos, ran back to school to focus on their studies.
The bassist completely broke down.
In private, she clutched Chihiro’s hand, begging her not to leave. But in front of everyone else, she put on a fake, indifferent smile and said, “You know, from the start, I never really cared about being in a band anyway~”
That substitute teacher from earlier?
Chihiro figured she was exactly that kind of person—too prideful to accept the humiliation of working alongside some random newcomer, yet unwilling to report the situation to the company and admit her competence was being questioned.
Of course, this deception wouldn’t last forever.
A few days at most.
But that was all the time Chihiro needed.
Within the week, she would find out which class Anon was in, meet her, and tell her the truth—that she wasn’t some rich, famous star. Just a scammer.
Once she fulfilled the last promise she made back in England, she could finally start atoning for everything.
And after that?
Chihiro let out a small, bitter smile at the thought.
To be honest, her dreams of music had been worn down over the years. She was exhausted.
Maybe she’d track down her grandmother and her little cousin, Raana.
Go back to school.
Or just work at her grandmother’s shop to make a living.
Then, using whatever money she earned from her part-time jobs, she’d slowly repay the “friends” she had deceived.
Back in London, scamming people for food and shelter had felt like a necessity.
A young Asian woman, with no connections or opportunities, trying to juggle work and music—it had all seemed so impossible.
But now that she was back, it was time to set things right.
Her foolish pride should have been buried long ago, alongside the obituaries of the family members she lost.
“Ahem. Today, we won’t be using the textbook for class.”
After casually checking on a girl named Nagasaki Soyo—who was quite pretty, but had been staring at her strangely—Chihiro cleared her throat and addressed the whole class with a gentle smile.
“Since I’m new to this class and don’t know you all very well yet, how about we do self-introductions? At the same time, I’ll teach you how to introduce yourselves naturally in English.”
For now, she just needed to finish this “job.”
Of course, she had a good reason for not using the textbook.
…She didn’t have one.
“Hello, Anon-sensei. My name is Ōno Chinatsu. My English name is—”
“Hello, sensei. I’m—”
Chihiro memorized each student’s name as they introduced themselves, one by one.
Her memory was exceptional, likely a skill honed from years of con artistry—quick recall and short-term retention were essential in her line of work.
But when it was the turn of that girl—the one who had been eyeing her so strangely—Chihiro found herself paying closer attention.
“Anon-sensei, my name is Toyo—ah, no, I mean, my name is Nagasaki Soyo. My hobby is playing the bass.”
…Bassist?
For some reason, the moment she heard the word “bass,” her mind didn’t jump to orchestras or wind ensembles—it immediately filled with a string of rude, sarcastic jokes.
Then she instinctively matched them to this girl, Soyo.
And somehow…
It just fit.
Like the combination of Soyo and those jokes created a synergy that was greater than the sum of its parts.
Crap, crap, crap.
She was projecting all her pent-up bitterness from her ex-bandmates onto this completely innocent student.
“Um, Anon-sensei…?”
“Hm?”
Chihiro blinked, realizing that unlike the other students—who had all sat down immediately after introducing themselves—Soyo remained standing.
It seemed she had something else she wanted to ask.
“Can I ask… what happened to the previous teacher?”
“Oh, she had an emergency and won’t be coming in for the next few days. She was a bit upset about the sudden change, but, ah… well, that’s nothing for you to worry about.”
Chihiro smiled reassuringly.
“Regardless of who your teacher is, what’s important is that you all continue studying English seriously.”
“Oh…”
Soyo sat down reluctantly, but her suspicions only deepened.
She knew about the concept of the butterfly effect—how events could change in unexpected ways after a time reset.
But this?
This was way too strange.
She had only just returned.
She hadn’t even had a chance to do anything yet.
She hadn’t even met Anon again!
And besides, how come she hadn’t heard anything about the previous teacher having an emergency?
More importantly—
Why did this new teacher feel so suspicious at every turn?
If that were all, she might’ve let it slide.
But this woman had walked in, stolen a class, and just so happened to be using Anon’s name?
No.
Soyo had to find out the truth.
—
This is a fan translation of 素世同学，恭喜你被我优化了 by 杰克喵. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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