It was in the late summer afternoon when all of the visiting third-graders were gathered in front of the kindergartners to say their goodbyes. But because the air-conditioner was broken, most of the kindergartners laid their heads on their desks and moaned when they were addressed by their teacher to pay attention. Yet one of the children, Satoshi Tatsuo, lifted his head to rest on his palm as a representative of his class.
'After all, somebody has to it,' he yawned as he looked around and noticing he really was the only one with their head up. Even the teacher was resting her head, ignoring the frantic offended gestures the third-graders' teacher silently sent her.
Satoshi had short blond hair, pale eyes and thick dry skin that would clump around his knuckles. The smell of soot and burnt wood followed him everywhere and when he sighed, the stench of his breath would have his closest classmates emptying their seats. From his desk, he tapped a long and sharp fingernail as the students recited their, who I am, what I learned, and why they were grateful for this experience. Which was funny for him because the way they were acting, they weren't grateful at all.
The third-graders talked down to them during study time, sniffed at them when they ate and whined when they took their nap. In fact, Satoshi wasn't exactly sure why the third-graders had to have come at all. If anything, they were brought to remind the kindergartners how lame and dumb the big kids were.
Satoshi yawned again, getting ready to put his head down if the teacher couldn't see him on his best behavior when he felt the stillness pass over. The third-graders were quiet. The third-graders were never quiet. They talked using their big words, typed things into their shiny phones and made constipated sounds as they waited for their turn. But now it was silent as a girl moved from the back of the line, her head hung low as she cradled a notebook to her chest.
Was she really respected or something? Satoshi sat up just in time to see a school loafer attached to a foot purposely stick out and the girl tripped, rolling into a ball as she collided painfully into the teacher's podium. All of the other third-graders broke out into laughter and quickly resumed what they had been doing before once they were done. Especially when their teacher took a nasty look at them before turning that piercing gaze to the girl in question.
The girl stood up slowly, rubbing her forehead and muttering something under her breath. Orange or something. It didn't make sense to Satoshi but it was obvious this girl was the loser with the capital L in her class. Satoshi took a few seconds to feel sorry for her and dropped his head down.
Out of nowhere, there was a loud snapping sound in his ear. He knew that sound from somewhere...
Satoshi dragged his head up slightly, his eyes meeting the curious ones of the loser girl. The first thing he noticed was her long, black hair spreading around him as she looked down. It felt so, so familiar. Then her purple eyes that lit up as her lips made a sloppy smile before straightening into a line. Then her uniform, a white blouse and navy blue star-printed skirt. It occurred to Satoshi to get mad at this loser girl about not knowing to keep her sounds and most likely, her fingers, to herself but the girl pulled away before Satoshi was able to say anything.
Yet the word, “Typical.” slipped from his mouth, causing the girl to wince. Satoshi blinked. Why did he say that? The loser girl wasn't a typical anything. She was just a loser. Why didn't he just call her that?
“I'm not that good with foals or speeches so...” The girl scratched at her head and bobbed her head as if nodding to someone in her head. But wait... Did she just call him a foal? “...I-mean children. Children is the correct terminology regardless of species. Wait... That sounded wrong.” The loser girl flipped open her notebook and started dragging a finger down the pages. But from Satoshi's side, he could read the purple maker hiragana inscribed on the front. It took him some time but he started to sound it out.
Ningen no Kotoba to Kan'yo-ku.
Ningen meant human.
Kotoba meant words.
And Kan'yo-ku made sense once he said it out loud. So putting all together and using what he knew about languge which was a lot. He got it but gripped his head once he figured out what it said.
Human Terms and Idioms.
What a weird name. This only proved more of her loser-ness. Only freaks would be carrying something cold and heartless sounding like Human Terms and Idioms. And idioms? Was she too good to write common phrases?
T-Y-P-I-C-A-L with a mega-sized T.
“Salutations. I am Taeko Sano of Class 3-A of Kirinyama.” She recited, her voice a robotic drone. “Today, I learned about childcare and the necessary need for a nap time for children under the age of six-” Satoshi tuned her out because what was that really? He remembered this particular third-grader. She sat next to her teacher the entire time until it was time to clean up. And even then, she was all by herself sweeping and picking up the trash like she was too good to ask for help.
But something was still bugging him.
“Thank you for taking care of us.” Taeko bowed, her hair sweeping down her shoulders and eyes meeting his for the second time. That does it. Did she really think that she was going to get away with it without him saying something?
“Twilight.” He slammed his small fist on to the desk top, bring all eyes on him. “Did you really call me a foal? A foal, you rude unicorn?!” He sighed, feeling the back of his throat grow hot. Visible white steam flew from his mouth but Satoshi paid it no mind, he had to get this of his chest. “And that book of yours is terrible, specially the hoof-writing. Have you thought about writing the title in English? English looks really good these days and you won't have to worry about writing in the open. I mean, kids these days say they know English but they don't.”
Taeko blinked at him and he blinked at her, completely baffled by what he said. Satoshi ducked his head and scratched at his neck, “I mean, Onee-san, I really like horses too. But I don't want to be a foal, I want to be a super cool racehorse!” He babbled, watching as Taeko grew cold. Why was she looking at him like that?
She turned from him and faced her classmates, eyeing each and everyone who glared back at her with a disinterested look on their faces. Satoshi couldn't see her face but felt a drop of sweat run down his nose as he stared at her tightly gripped fist. “Did any of you put him up to this?” She said, her voice a low, angry whisper.
Her classmates didn't care.
And whatever will Taeko had in her went out like a light. Her presence seemed to shrink, her back bent and she stepped back in line, becoming just another one of the annoying third-graders.
Satoshi dropped his head as another third-grader came up to speak, feeling sick to his stomach. Something ached inside of him and his eyes fluttered close as he waited for the day to end. Summer vacation would be starting up soon and he'll put this moment behind him.
The girl was a loser. She must have spread some of his loser-ness off on him.