“Okay, class. Any math questions?”
The woman’s voice came from a short distance away, and Masamichi looked up from his textbook.
He was now seated in one of the many classrooms at his prep school.
Unlike in regular classrooms with desks and chairs, Masamichi and the other students who had failed their initial college entrance exams were gathered in a self-study-type classroom divided into individual booths.
All such students were packed into the same room, so they weren’t necessarily receiving instruction in the same subjects.
Each student studied with the textbooks and drill books of their choice, and the system was set up for several instructors to be on hand to answer any questions they had, providing it was during class.
The English teacher doesn’t look busy, so I’ll ask him a question.
Masamichi slowly raised his hand.
“Excuse me, I have a question about English.”
His voice was unsteady and feeble, and he wasn’t good at speaking out loud in public. It wasn’t surprising that customers and colleagues alike weren’t happy with him when he served customers in his old bar job.
“Oh, okay. Uh, what was your name again?”
The young instructor, who had been taking numerous questions from students, smiled innocently at Masamichi.
“My name is Adachi.”
“Oh, yes, that’s it. Aoki.”
“Adachi.”
“Oops, sorry.”
“No problem.”
Masamichi sighed inwardly, but he wasn’t particularly offended.
Back in grade school, some of his classmates had bullied him a little because of his frail health and frequent absences.
Since then, through trial and error, he’d developed a way to avoid being bullied, and that resulted in him going unnoticed.
Instead of picking on him, people stopped noticing his existence entirely.
It was lonely and made him feel empty, but it was also pleasant for shy Masamichi, and he continued to make himself invisible when many people were around.
It’s probably my fault that the teachers have a tough time remembering my name and my face.
Gritting his teeth at the bitterness, Masamichi pointed to the question he wanted to ask about.
“I never quite understand how to use these words, no more than.”
The instructor smiled brightly and said, “Aha. That’s the whale syntax. A sentence structure that trips everyone up.”
“The…whale syntax?”
As Masamichi sat totally baffled by the unfamiliar words, the instructor pulled up a chair, took a pen out of his shirt’s breast pocket, and moved Masamichi’s notebook toward himself.
He quickly wrote down what he was talking about.
A whale is no more a fish than a horse is.
“Here you go. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?”
Masamichi curiously tilted his head.
“Sorry, I don’t think so. A…whale?”
“That’s what a certain prep school teacher started calling it. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it. You have got to be kidding. You failed your college entrance exam twice, didn’t you? What kind of studying have you been doing? It’s super famous.”
“S-sorry.”
The point of attending a prep school was to learn things he didn’t know. Masamichi shouldn’t have had to apologize, but he did so reflexively when the instructor seemed to condemn him for his lack of common sense, and he bit his lip in mild self-loathing.
The instructor didn’t seem to notice Masamichi’s feelings of shame and continued to speak rapidly, as if this was something he did every day.
“No more than something…means not the same as something. Okay?”
“…Oh, okay.”
“You don’t get it, do you? I can tell by your voice and the look on your face. Consider the last part of what I said. You know what a horse is, right?”
“Y-yes.”
“A horse isn’t a fish. That’s obvious, correct?”
Masamichi cautiously agreed.
“Right.”
“Translate that into Japanese, and it comes at the beginning of the sentence. What happens then?”
“…Um… In the same way that a horse isn’t a fish, a whale isn’t a fish, either… Is that right?”
“Precisely! You got it in one try. That’s what I was trying to tell you. So, what about the sentence don’t you understand? Try translating it.”
Still hesitant, Masamichi said in a low voice, to avoid disturbing the other students who were studying, “I can no more swim than fly. Um, does it mean I can’t swim in the same way that I can’t fly?”
The instructor’s expression became an exaggerated frown, and he wagged his finger at Masamichi.
“Tsk, tsk! That’s a little stiff. Try translating it a little more naturally. Give it another try!”
“Huh…? Um, all right.”
At the instructor’s insistence, Masamichi made an effort to come up with an answer even though he was struggling to get into the swing of things.
“I can’t fly, and I can’t swim…?”
“Bingo! See? You can do it if you calm down and think! Way to go.”
The instructors at the prep school appeared to have a motto of praising and nurturing. The one speaking with Masamichi gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and went out of his way to commend him.
“Th-thank you,” Masamichi said, bowing, then exhaling.
But his relief was short-lived.
“Hey. Don’t casually touch something that belongs to me.”
Hearing the familiar voice, Masamichi jumped a few millimeters from his seat.
“Huh?”
The instructor was also startled. He removed his hand from Masamichi’s shoulder and immediately stood up and braced himself.
“Huh…?”
Too surprised to get on his feet, Masamichi slowly looked up.
He hadn’t thought it possible, but it was indeed Shino, looking grim as he stood next to his booth.
You have got to be kidding me.
It was nonsense to wonder when he’d gotten there. He was a specter. Masamichi was well aware that Shino could move without making the slightest sound if he wanted.
“Sh-Shino?”
“Huh?! What?! Is this man an acquaintance of yours?”
The instructor slowly retreated one step at a time. He looked from Shino to Masamichi and back again, and a nervous sound came out of his mouth.
The other students who had been quietly studying turned their heads from their respective booths, realizing that something unusual was taking place.
Dismayed by the stares coming at him from all directions, Masamichi whispered to Shino, “Wh-what’s up? What are you doing here?”
Then Shino said flatly in his usual blunt tone, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have business to tend to. We’re leaving now. Follow me.”
“Huh? You didn’t mention it this morning!!”
“Something has come up. Now, hurry.”
“What’s come up?”
“Never mind. Just get moving.”
As soon as he said that, Shino grabbed a stunned Masamichi by the wrist and headed for the hallway.
“Whoa! Shino, just a minute.”
“Hey. Hey, what are you doing with our student…?”
Finally returning to his senses, the instructor waved his hands in a rush and tried to restrain Shino but was overwhelmed by the dangerous aura Shino emitted from his entire being.
“A-Akashi, do you know that man?”
“The name’s Adachi! And, um, he’s…my guardian? Yes, he’s my guardian. Shino, wait. Let me get my bag!”
Masamichi somehow managed to stay on his feet as he tossed his notebook and pen case into his shoulder bag with his free hand.
Shino watched him, still holding Masamichi’s other hand, and then started walking at his usual speed.
“Excuse me! Sorry to have disturbed you,” Masamichi managed, then walked out…no, he was dragged out of the room by Shino.
“Hey, you, you can’t go to our study rooms without permission!”
“I told him to wait.”
A female receptionist and a male staff member that she must have called on came rushing over, gasping for breath. But Shino ignored them completely and continued walking.
“I’m sorry for the disruption…,” Masamichi said, trying to apologize, but Shino wasn’t slowing down at all.
He was led out of the prep school, eyed curiously by everyone who passed them.
“Hey, Shino. Seriously, what’s come over you? Everyone in my class was stunned. And what you said—”
“What did I say?”
“‘Something that belongs to me’…? Geez.”
“You have no right to complain. All I did was listen to you when you so brazenly insisted that I not use the word servant in public.”
Ah. Masamichi held his head, recalling that, but tried to argue.
“O-okay, thanks. But something that belongs to me might be a bit too misleading.”
“Misleading, my foot. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the fact that every strand of your hair and every last drop of your blood is mine.”
“I realize that, but… Oh, man. Anyway, what the heck is going on? Oh, and isn’t it about time you let go of my hand?”
“Hmph.”
Shino finally released his hand, and Masamichi slung his bag over his shoulder properly.
The wrist that Shino had been gripping ached and throbbed. He’d been too shocked by Shino’s sudden appearance to realize the strength of Shino’s hold.
Shino didn’t immediately answer Masamichi’s question. Instead, he raised his hand, flagged a cab that was passing by, and got into the car.
With no idea what was going on, Masamichi joined him in the back seat and fastened his seat belt.
Shino told the driver to take them to a train station where the bullet train made a stop.
“Are we going somewhere?” Masamichi asked, still confused but finally settling down.
He noticed that Shino was wearing a suit—the kind he wore to his business meetings.
“Did you receive a request to pick up some items from a store or somewhere?” Masamichi asked, although he doubted that would be the case.
Though he troubled Shino by being a carefree sort of servant, Masamichi felt like Shino actually cared about his welfare. For example, Shino gave him plenty of time to dedicate to his studies.