“It’s not good to cause a fuss.” Certainly, that was no less cold or logical than what Wataru had said to the girls in class. But no one who was on that sketching trip ever thought Mitsuru was lame for not believing in ghosts.
What’s more, he could imagine Yutaro telling the girls, “You know, Wataru’s right. Until you go to the Mihashi Shrine and make sure that someone actually died there, you can’t say you know whose ghost it is.” They would have eaten up every word. It was an absolute certainty. If Yutaro says so, it must be right.
How utterly, totally unfair. Wataru’s frustration rose in his chest, choking out everything else. A few girls came in, chatting about something, and Wataru retreated back to his seat. Seating in cram school was supposedly on a first-come, first-served basis, but people tended to pick a spot on day one and stay there the whole year. Wataru’s seat was exactly midway down the room, on the side with the doors.
Five minutes before class was to begin, their teacher, Mr. Ishii, strode in. Mitsuru walked in immediately behind him. The room was filled with students who were all talking at once. As soon as everyone saw Mitsuru, there was complete silence.
Most of the kids in Wataru’s class, however, came from one of three elementary schools. The first was Wataru’s school, Joto Elementary. The second school was also called Joto Elementary. Because of the high population in his district, there were several public schools for the area, each with the same name, and a number to tell it apart from the others. Wataru’s was Joto Elementary No. 1, the other that shared his cram school was Joto Elementary No. 3. The third school was a private school. For the kids from Joto Elementary No. 3 and the private school, it was their first time seeing Mitsuru, and the excitement was palpable.
The teacher made a few opening remarks, and then introduced Mitsuru to the class.
“This is Mitsuru Ashikawa, who will be joining us starting today. I believe those of you from Joto No. 1 know him already.”
Mr. Ishii was twenty-four years old. His real job was doing research as a grad student at a nearby university. Teaching here was his part-time gig. He was an easygoing fellow with a youthful face. He could be mistaken for a high school student depending on how he dressed. Still, he was incredibly smart, and a good speaker, and class was always interesting. The students liked him.
Standing next to each other, the teacher seemed small compared to Mitsuru. He looked mean, meager, and outranked. Everyone noticed it. If they didn’t know that Mr. Ishii was the teacher and Mitsuru was the student, it would have been easy to imagine things being the other way around.
“Hello,” Mitsuru said to the class. Another student might have been more formal, or given a full self-introduction, but for him, this one word was plainly sufficient. His voice rang clear in the silence.
Mitsuru found an empty seat and sat down. He caught Yutaro’s eye, and smiled. Yutaro smiled back. The girls sitting next to Wataru huddled their heads together, giggling quietly and whispering something. Their eyes sparkled.
Mr. Ishii preferred to lecture and then have the students work individually, so there were few group activities. Wataru would have little opportunity to gauge for himself whether Mitsuru was as gifted a student as Yutaro had suggested. Still, from the questions he asked in class, and the way he sped through the worksheets, it was clear he was a student of ability . It seemed that, against all odds, Mitsuru was the real deal: the transfer student who was just as amazing as all the rumors said. A meteorite.
Once class ended and it came time to go home, no one left. Yutaro and Mitsuru naturally formed a pair in one corner of the room, and the other kids naturally gravitated toward them. Not just the girls, but the other boys as well.
Wataru still had questions unanswered, but he didn’t exactly fancy
What’s more, he could imagine Yutaro telling the girls, “You know, Wataru’s right. Until you go to the Mihashi Shrine and make sure that someone actually died there, you can’t say you know whose ghost it is.” They would have eaten up every word. It was an absolute certainty. If Yutaro says so, it must be right.
How utterly, totally unfair. Wataru’s frustration rose in his chest, choking out everything else. A few girls came in, chatting about something, and Wataru retreated back to his seat. Seating in cram school was supposedly on a first-come, first-served basis, but people tended to pick a spot on day one and stay there the whole year. Wataru’s seat was exactly midway down the room, on the side with the doors.
Five minutes before class was to begin, their teacher, Mr. Ishii, strode in. Mitsuru walked in immediately behind him. The room was filled with students who were all talking at once. As soon as everyone saw Mitsuru, there was complete silence.
Most of the kids in Wataru’s class, however, came from one of three elementary schools. The first was Wataru’s school, Joto Elementary. The second school was also called Joto Elementary. Because of the high population in his district, there were several public schools for the area, each with the same name, and a number to tell it apart from the others. Wataru’s was Joto Elementary No. 1, the other that shared his cram school was Joto Elementary No. 3. The third school was a private school. For the kids from Joto Elementary No. 3 and the private school, it was their first time seeing Mitsuru, and the excitement was palpable.
The teacher made a few opening remarks, and then introduced Mitsuru to the class.
“This is Mitsuru Ashikawa, who will be joining us starting today. I believe those of you from Joto No. 1 know him already.”
Mr. Ishii was twenty-four years old. His real job was doing research as a grad student at a nearby university. Teaching here was his part-time gig. He was an easygoing fellow with a youthful face. He could be mistaken for a high school student depending on how he dressed. Still, he was incredibly smart, and a good speaker, and class was always interesting. The students liked him.
Standing next to each other, the teacher seemed small compared to Mitsuru. He looked mean, meager, and outranked. Everyone noticed it. If they didn’t know that Mr. Ishii was the teacher and Mitsuru was the student, it would have been easy to imagine things being the other way around.
“Hello,” Mitsuru said to the class. Another student might have been more formal, or given a full self-introduction, but for him, this one word was plainly sufficient. His voice rang clear in the silence.
Mitsuru found an empty seat and sat down. He caught Yutaro’s eye, and smiled. Yutaro smiled back. The girls sitting next to Wataru huddled their heads together, giggling quietly and whispering something. Their eyes sparkled.
Mr. Ishii preferred to lecture and then have the students work individually, so there were few group activities. Wataru would have little opportunity to gauge for himself whether Mitsuru was as gifted a student as Yutaro had suggested. Still, from the questions he asked in class, and the way he sped through the worksheets, it was clear he was a student of ability . It seemed that, against all odds, Mitsuru was the real deal: the transfer student who was just as amazing as all the rumors said. A meteorite.
Once class ended and it came time to go home, no one left. Yutaro and Mitsuru naturally formed a pair in one corner of the room, and the other kids naturally gravitated toward them. Not just the girls, but the other boys as well.
Wataru still had questions unanswered, but he didn’t exactly fancy
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