My Japanese teacher, Shizuka Hiratsuka, popped a vein as she read my essay aloud. As I listened, I realized that my writing skills were far from proficient. I thought I might seem smart if I strung some fancy words together, but it just came off like a cheap tactic some struggling writer would think of.
That said- is my amateurish essay the reason she called me? That couldn't be it. I knew that already. After Hiratsuka sensei had finished reading, she put a hand on her forehead and sighed deeply.
"Say, Hikigaya, what was the assignment that I handed out during class?"
"……well, it was an essay with the topic ‘Looking Back on High School Life’."
"Exactly. So then why did you write a threat letter1? Are you a terrorist? Or perhaps, an idiot?"
She let out another sigh and pulled a hand through her hair, vexed2
1
The original word used here is ‘hankouseimei’, which is the same as a claim of responsibility (for a crime), but that sounded too hefty in English.
2
The Japanese word for ‘vex’ (nayamashi) can also mean ‘seductive’, which leads him to his next thought…
Now that I think about it, using the word mistress instead of 'female teacher' makes it sound more erotic3. Then, just as I was grinning to myself while thinking about those things, a bundle of paper struck my head.
"Pay attention!"
"Yes."
"Your eyes, they’re like the eyes of a rotting fish."
"Do they really seem that rich in omega-3? Makes me sound smart."
The corners of her mouth twitched upwards.
"Hikigaya. What is with this tasteless essay? I'd at least like to hear some sort of reason." Her eyes flashed, shooting daggers at me, with a scowl deadly enough to make a sound. Only a woman cursed by beauty was capable of an expression so alarmingly powerful that it would unwillingly draw you in and completely overwhelm you. That is to say, it was seriously scary.
"Uh-Well-I...did reflect on high school life, didn't I? Nowadays this is exceedingly what high school life is like, you know! My essay is pretty close to it!"
3
The original Japanese dictates that the kanji for female teacher (女教師) would be more erotic if it were read as ‘onnakyoushi’ (woman teacher) instead of ‘jokyoushi’ (female teacher).
I kept fumbling my words. I get nervous just by talking to people, but talking to an older woman made me all the more nervous.
"Usually, such a question would require you to reflect on your own experiences, don't you think?"
"Then please preface the question by saying so. If you'd done that, I would have written the essay accordingly. Isn't it your fault for writing a misleading question, sensei?"
"Oh stop being so pedantic, kid."
"Kid……? Well certainly from the perspective of someone your age, I am a kid, I guess."
There was a gush of wind. It was a fist. A fist that was unleashed without any indication of movement. And if that weren't enough, it was an impressive fist that just grazed the side of my cheek.
"The next one won't miss." Her eyes were serious.
"I'm very sorry. I'll write it over." To show some semblance of remorse and regret, I'll have to choose my words wisely. But right now, of all things Hiratsuka sensei was, satisfied was not one of them. It seemed there was no other way but to kneel down and bow at her feet.
I attempted to brush the creases out of my pants, and as I neatened them, my right leg bent down and became affixed to the floor. A flawless and swift movement.
"You know, I'm not angry with you."
……Oh, so it's come to that. That annoying thing they always do. The 'I'm not angry, so please tell me' thing. I've never seen someone who says that not get angry. Surprisingly, though, she really wasn't angry. Well, excluding the moment I mentioned her age.
I furtively observed her reaction as I lifted my right knee off the floor.
From a breast pocket that was on the verge of bursting, Hiratsuka sensei pulled out a Seven Stars4 and tapped its filter hard against her desk. Just like how some old guy would do. After packing the tobacco, she clicked a 100-yen lighter and lit her cigarette. She took a drag and considered me with a serious look on her face.
"You're not in any clubs, right?"
"Right."
"……Do you have any friends?"
4 A brand of cigarettes in Japan
She asked me like she had already assumed I didn't have any.
"Well, I- I'll have you know that I live by the virtue of impartiality, and as such, am unable to have particularly intimate relationships with people!"
"In other words, you don’t have any, right?"
"W-well, basically…"
As though she knew how I would reply, Hiratsuka sensei's face brimmed with excitement.
"So that's how it is! You really don't have any friends! Exactly as I had diagnosed. Just one look at those lifeless eyes and I knew straight away!"
So you figured it out just by looking at my eyes? Then, don't bother asking me.
She nodded her head knowingly with a 'mhmm...yes' and considered me with a reserved expression.
"…………What about a girlfriend or something?"
What's with the 'something'? What would you do if I said I had a boyfriend?
"Well I don't have one right now..."
Considering any hopes for the future, I emphasised ‘now’, just in case.
"I see......"
This time she gazed at me intensely, with misty eyes. I really hoped it was because of the cigarette smoke irritating her eyes.
Hey, stop that. Don't pity me with that soft gaze.
In any case, where are all these questions going? Is Hiratsuka sensei one of those enthusiastic teachers?
Is she going to be talking about how I'm that one rotten apple that spoils the barrel, soon?
Perhaps she was once a delinquent high school drop out, who's now going to go back to her old high school to be a teacher?5
......Seriously, can’t she just go back there?
5 Reference to the drama Drop-out teacher returns to school (Yankee Bokou ni Kaeru), in which a former
gang member returns to his old high school as a teacher. He’s an enthusiastic teacher who tries to help
students graduate out into the world.
After some consideration, Hiratsuka sensei sighed as she exhaled a puff of smoke.
"All right, let's do it this way. Rewrite your report."
"Yes."
And I definitely will.
All right, this time I'll write a highly appropriate, inoffensive composition. Much like the blogs of gravure idols and voice actresses.
Something like: Today's dinner was like……, curry!
What's with using 'like'? There's nothing about that word that adds to the surprise of eating curry.
Up until this point everything had gone as I expected. But what followed this was more than I had imagined.
"However, the fact remains that your heartless words and behavior have hurt my feelings. Were you never taught not to talk to a woman about her age? As a result, you are required to join the service club. After all, wrongdoings must be punished."
She didn't seem very hurt, so much so that she sounded commanding. Rather, she was more perky than usual, speaking in a cheerful manner.
In saying that, the word perky6 inadvertently reminds me of something else……my eyes averted from reality and ended up settling on sensei's breasts pushing up from underneath her blouse.
Despicable……But then, what kind of person delights in handing out punishments?
"The service club……What do you suppose I do there?" I timidly inquired. I get the feeling they could quite possibly ask me to clean out the gutter or even worse, kidnap people.
"Just follow me."
Hiratsuka sensei pressed the end of her cigarette onto a densely filled ashtray and stood up. While I stayed rooted to the spot having had no explanation or introduction to what she was proposing, sensei was already at the door, looking back at me.
"Oi, hurry up."
With my brows knitted and a scowl on my face, I followed her.
(6) The word for perky in Japanese is ‘kiki’ which rhymes with ‘chichi’, meaning breast (This guy is such an idiot).
