A Disruption in the Order
The clock struck 8 a.m., and Agatha, as she did every day, was meticulously settled into her routine. She had already finished organizing the classroom—arranging the desks in perfectly aligned rows, placing the chalk on the tray with millimetric precision—and now, as the students began to enter one by one, she took a moment to savor her coffee and mentally prepare her notes for that morning’s lesson on Shakespeare’s tragedies.
The bell rang just as Agatha was about to review her notes one last time. It was the same signal that rang every day, announcing that class had officially begun. However, before she could fully immerse herself in her role as teacher, she heard the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps approaching. Agatha looked up and saw Lilia enter, offering a quick greeting to the students and a slight smile. The air of urgency that accompanied her was familiar, and Agatha, with her patience intact, braced herself for any announcement the principal might bring.
“Oh, Professor Harkness, I almost forgot! Please come outside with me for a moment!” said Lilia, her tone vibrant and cheerful. Although her voice conveyed enthusiasm, there was a mischievous spark in her eyes, as if she knew something Agatha did not yet understand. Lilia accompanied her down the hall, and there, with a warm and playful tone, she said, “I want to introduce you to our new English teacher. You’ll be working closely with her from now on; she’ll basically be your right-hand woman, darling.”
Before Agatha could make a comment, a woman approached them with a determined stride. Agatha watched her closely, and her eyes immediately narrowed. The new teacher was… different. Her appearance did not match the sobriety and order that Agatha so highly valued and exuded. The woman wore her hair in a messy but cute bun, a denim jacket adorned with patches, and boots that seemed out of place in the academic environment of the institute. She smiled with a radiant, youthful, almost childlike expression, and her posture suggested someone unafraid to break the rules. Agatha furrowed her brow, wary and anticipating what was to come.
“Good morning, Agatha!” said the woman, entering with an enthusiastic tone. “I’m Rio—your new colleague. So happy to finally meet you!” Her tone vibrated with a mix of friendliness and boldness that Agatha could not ignore.
Agatha felt her smile tighten. Despite her attempt to maintain composure, she couldn’t help but think how inappropriate everything seemed, how inappropriate she seemed. Rio. The name itself felt like a provocation, a mockery of the order that she held so dear. Her grip on her blazer tightened, the bitterness in her face reflecting the growing discomfort within her.
“Professor Rio,” Agatha corrected, her voice dry and sharp, trying to confront the discomfort she felt. She straightened herself with a firmness that was meant to assert her authority in that moment. “Welcome to Westview Institute. I hope you find everything to your satisfaction and comfort.”
Rio leaned on one foot, her gaze fixed on Agatha as if she were already assessing the situation. “Oh, I know. This place has such a particular… energy,” she said, winking and flashing a warm smile, making Agatha feel a bit more uneasy. The way she spoke and moved exuded an air of irreverence, as if she were defying expectations, as if nothing mattered to her, and Agatha couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by her relaxed, almost excessive attitude.
Lilia, seemingly enjoying the palpable tension, chuckled softly. “I’m sure you two will get along just great. I’ll leave you to it; I have a meeting to attend.” And before Agatha could say anything, Lilia turned and left, leaving them alone in the room.
Agatha couldn’t help but feel relieved that the principal had left, but at the same time, her thoughts remained focused on the unconventional woman she had just met. Her students, now silent, were watching through the glass of the door, calmly observing what was happening. Agatha turned toward them, trying to regain control, but Rio’s voice broke the tension in the air.
“So…” Rio began, stepping toward Agatha with a purposeful stride, her gaze fixed and a small, sly smile on her lips. “Tell me, Agatha… How do you manage to keep your students so in line? I’m sure I could use a bit of your disciplinary magic,” she said, her tone slightly provocative, almost as if it were a disguised insinuation.
Agatha stared at her, her patience already at its limit. “It’s called structure and order, Professor Rio. Something I’m sure you’ll learn soon enough,” she said, her tone now sharper and more authoritative, showing the anger building inside her.
Rio laughed as if Agatha had said something amusing. “Structure is fine, sure, but what about spontaneity? Because, let’s be honest, where’s the fun in being predictable all the time?” Her eyes sparkled with playful light, and she took a step closer, leaning slightly over Agatha’s desk.
Agatha’s face hardened, her patience beginning to unravel. “I prefer my students to focus on literature, not games. They must understand the fundamentals before diving into creative liberties; anticipation and knowing every detail is everything.”
“Oh, I love a good creative liberty,” Rio said, moving even closer, her face now very near Agatha’s. The proximity was enough for Agatha to notice how Rio’s voice softened, almost whispering, and her gaze grew more intense. “Although I have to say, there’s something so tempting about breaking the rules a little, don’t you think?” She smiled mischievously, as if hinting at something much beyond the academic conversation.
Agatha, maintaining her composure, frowned. “Literature requires precision,” she replied firmly, “and that means we must understand language and structure above all, not just seek fun.”
Rio let out a soft laugh, and Agatha noticed how her eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and amusement. “Precision! Sure, sure, but also… where’s the freedom in that?” Rio leaned back, crossing her arms, her posture relaxed but defiant. “What about breaking free from the chains of precision?”
Agatha gritted her teeth, her control over her emotions slipping slowly. “Freedom, Professor Rio, comes from mastery, anticipation, control, not chaos.” She crossed her arms, standing tall with determination, feeling Rio’s challenge beginning to test her patience. “Maybe you’ll see that in time. I hope you do.”
Rio showed no signs of discomfort. In fact, her expression became even more amused, as if she were enjoying a game. “Well, I guess we’ll find out soon, won’t we? Maybe we’ll have to collaborate on some projects and see where our philosophies clash. I have a few ideas that will definitely turn everything upside down,” she said, with a flirtatious smile and a gleam of challenge in her eyes.
Agatha could barely suppress a sigh. Her instincts told her that Rio was a walking disruption, a constant challenge to the order she valued so much. But, for some inexplicable reason, there was something in that defiant gaze, in that disrespectful energy, that made her doubt. How hard could it really be to work with her?
“Fun ideas?” Agatha repeated, her tone dry as always. “I’m sure that will be… interesting.”
Rio laughed again, her smile infinite. “Don’t worry, Agatha. I’ll try not to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to build.” Her tone remained playful, almost mocking, but there was something in her voice that made Agatha feel strangely unsettled.
Agatha nodded coldly and controlled, her gaze fixed on Rio, trying to maintain her professional facade. She wasn’t going to let someone like Rio destabilize her. She couldn’t. She had dedicated her life to cultivating a controlled and orderly environment, and she wasn’t going to let anyone—especially someone as irreverent as Rio—tear down everything she had built.
But as she turned away, Agatha couldn’t help but feel that this battle for order, for control, was far from over. In the end, Agatha simply withdrew and re-entered the classroom where many of her students saw and felt the tension building in the hallway. Agatha picked up a piece of chalk without saying a word and began writing down some of Shakespeare’s tragedies on the board.