The alarm clock rang at exactly 6:00 a.m.
Shimiki Shiro opened her eyes without hesitation. She reached over, turned it off, and sat up in bed. There was no rushing, no sighing—just routine. Her room was neat, almost untouched, as if it were more a place to sleep than to live. The curtains were drawn slightly open, letting in the pale morning light.
She changed into her uniform, carefully straightening the collar and smoothing out every wrinkle. After tying her hair the way she always did, she stood in front of the mirror for a moment. Her expression was calm, practiced. Satisfied, she picked up her bag and left her room.
Downstairs, the house was quiet.
Shiro went to the kitchen and prepared her breakfast: toast, a fried egg, and a glass of milk. She moved efficiently, as if she had memorized every step long ago. She ate alone at the table, sitting straight, finishing everything without leaving crumbs behind. The clock on the wall ticked softly. The television stayed off.
When she finished, she washed her plate, dried it, and placed it back where it belonged. Before leaving, she glanced briefly toward her parents' bedroom. The door was closed, just like always.
She didn't knock.
The walk to school took less than ten minutes. The high school was close enough that she never needed to hurry. The air was cool, and the streets were already busy with students in uniform. Some walked in groups, others alone like her.
"Good morning, Shimiki-san."
"Good morning."
She returned each greeting with a polite smile. Her steps were steady, her posture perfect. By the time the school gates came into view, she had already slipped into her usual role.
Inside the building, students gathered in the hallways, lockers slamming shut, voices overlapping. Shiro changed into her indoor shoes and headed upstairs. As she reached her classroom, 3-B, a few students noticed her immediately.
"Good morning, President."
"You're early as always."
"Good morning," she replied, nodding slightly.
She walked to her seat by the window and sat down, placing her bag neatly beside her desk. Outside, she could see the school grounds slowly filling with students. She took out her notebooks and arranged them in order, then checked her planner. Classes in the morning. A student council meeting during lunch. Reports to review after school.
A classmate leaned over. "You're coming to the meeting later, right?"
"Yes," Shiro answered without hesitation. "I'll be there."
The teacher entered the classroom soon after, and everyone returned to their seats. As attendance was taken, Shiro listened quietly, hands folded on her desk. Everything was proceeding exactly as expected.
From the outside, Shimiki Shiro was calm, reliable, and flawless.
And as always, she made sure nothing showed otherwise.