I don’t care how anyone tries to blame you for this. I, your teacher, will always have your back, Takasu-kun. I understand exactly why you did what you did.
“Yay! You did it! Clap clap clap!”
“…”
“Yes, I’ve gotten exactly ten pages from you. Just look at this file and how thick it’s gotten! I’m going to make sure that these get handed out when you graduate—right to your parent…uh. Wh-why are you looking so distressed…”
He wasn’t actually distressed.
“Oh. Are you not feeling well?”
He was feeling fine.
“Well, you must have had a pretty rough time, with everything that’s happened, um…”
He was just slightly tired.
The file the bachelorette teacher Koigakubo Yuri (age 30) held in her hand really was incredibly thick. The label on its spine read, “Class 2-C Takasu Ryuuji’s Reflection Paper.”
“Well, I suppose it’s only natural it would be hard. It was hard for everyone who had to read these, too! You had six ten-page reflection papers due, but I told you that you just needed to do one—and then you turned in the Monday, Wednesday, Friday reports about how your apology cleaning was going… You’ve written too much, Takasu-kun! You even turned in the fifth and sixth ones! And you haven’t skipped a single one.”
“Well, I got carried away. I couldn’t help it.”
The only reason his and Taiga’s great escape hadn’t earned him a suspension was because Koigakubo Yuri had gone frantically to bat for him with the principal, vice principal, and head teacher. Ryuuji heard about it right from the principal in her office. In exchange for not being suspended, he went to the lecture room alone every weekend to write ten-page reflection papers on composition paper. He also had to clean the teachers’ bathroom by himself three times a week.
He’d worked diligently to do all of that and earned his best score yet on the end-of-term tests just the other day. He’d even outscored Kitamura, who prided his math abilities, and ranked at the top of his grade. When it came to the cumulative results, he rose above ten people from the previous tests and clawed his way into the top half of the single digit numbers. With that, Ryuuji hoped, he’d helped Koigakubo Yuri save face.
“Actually, your apology cleaning was quite the ordeal for the other teachers… They kept asking me how many hours you were going to keep cleaning for. And on top of that, all your reports were about exactly how many hairs were in the bathroom and how many cans were in the trash, and how dirty or sloppy everything was, and you even wrote down which teachers you thought were responsible… You were like a mother-in-law with a never-ending devil’s checklist. Everyone was trembling with fear whenever they had to go to the bathroom.”
“I thought you didn’t have a mother-in-law.”
“I don’t… I was using my imagination. A castle in the air, if you will…”
Ha ha ha, Koigakubo Yuri laughed vacantly as she stuck Ryuuji’s reflection paper in the file. After that, she would read over it thoroughly and go over it with a red pen, writing things like, “I’m not really sure about this.” “Think over this more!” “Yes, it did seem that way.” Writing never-ending comments was her job as the teacher. Then, she would temporarily return it to Ryuuji, and Ryuuji would write comments on the comments, and they would be filed away.
They’d had school on Saturday, that day. It was currently after class.
The lecture room the two were in filled with silence for a while. The voices of girl athletes echoed on the school grounds outside. It was probably the softball club. All Ryuuji could hear were rough and effectively menacing voices. HUER GO HUER! DEURAH! HEYUOO! He’d once asked Minori what all of it meant, but she had replied back, “We’re saying, huer go huer! Deurah! Heyuoo!” The world was still full of mysteries.
Once the week started, they would have their third term closing ceremony.
“Okay, you’re done with writing reflection papers now, Takasu-kun. Thanks for all the hard work.”
“Not at all… I was at fault, so I had to do it. Thank you for everything you did, Ms. Koigakubo. I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble. I really am.”
“Thanks. It’s fine.”
The days of their second year in high school were going by without Taiga.
“Sensei?”
Hm? Koigakubo, who had stood up from her seat ahead of him, turned around. He thrust a paper in front of her face. He’d been walking around with it folded in half the whole time, and the crease went deep.
Ryuuji said his piece before she could open it. “I turned in a version of this earlier, but could you replace it with this? I’m sorry it’s so sudden, but I had to write something down. Excuse me!”
Using the moment of distraction as Koigakubo dropped her eyes to the paper, he quickly stood up. He opened the door and headed out into the hallway.
“What. What?! Whaaaaaaat?!” Koigakubo exclaimed.
“I’m serious.” Ryuuji turned around to his teacher, who followed him out the door and walked backwards as he pointed with his finger. I’m serious—seriously serious. He couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he looked at his teacher’s bewildered face.
“I’m glad you’re serious about it, but the future aspirations questionnaire isn’t for announcing stuff like this!” Koigakubo said. “Don’t you have a brighter, more aspirational outlook?!”
“My outlooks are bright and aspirational. Actually, you’re part of the ‘everyone’ I’m talking about!”
“Whaaaaat… Well…th-thanks I guess…” his teacher muttered with an uncertain expression. In the end, Ryuuji heard her burst out laughing as he went down the stairs, “Ha ha ha!”
As he vanished from sight, his teacher’s mouth softened slightly. I’m sure you really will have a bright future, because… Then the adult in her returned, and she stopped herself from finishing the thought.
The future aspirations Ryuuji had committed to paper were summarized in just one phrase: For everyone to be happy!
He’d added an exclamation point on the end before turning it in.
As Ryuuji headed to the classroom where he had left his bag, he understood his teacher’s surprise. Honestly, he was still having trouble coming to a decision on a lot of things—the college he would go to if he could still somehow get into one, or what he would major in, or what kind of work he might want to find instead. His future remained unclear.
But he still had a year to go, so wasn’t that fine?
Maybe he was being naive. Maybe he was too optimistic and would end up being left behind by everyone else. But Ryuuji had only just started to understand how wide the world was and wasn’t ready to decide how he would cross it. His indecision wasn’t because of financial problems, or because he had been bound by Yasuko’s words, or even because of her reconciliation with her parents. It wasn’t because his options were limited or because he didn’t like any of them.
It was because he wasn’t done taking stock of his surroundings. It was because, compared to his peers, he was finally taking his time getting started on his path.
The future was too wide, too far, and it was frightening—but it was also rosy and infinitely bright. Ryuuji was looking forward to thinking about it. He thought he could do anything. He could believe that the things he hoped for would be within reach.
If he could feel this way, then he would be fine. No matter what arms or equipment he decided to outfit himself with as he travelled the world, he would be fine.
Besides, once he made a decision, all that would remain was to go through with it. That was why he wanted to just be a kid for a little while longer. These were probably the last days of his life that he could get away with being lost. Ryuuji wanted to enjoy wandering while he still could.
He wanted to enjoy the luxurious irresponsibility limited to this time of his life.
“Hey! Yo! I’m hungry, wanna eat?!”
“You actually turned that in?! ‘I want everyone to be happy!’”
In the classroom, Haruta and Noto stuck their hands into candy bags as they waited for Ryuuji to come back. I really did, Ryuuji nodded as he grabbed a potato chip and tossed it into his mouth.
“You really did do it! What did Yuri-chan say?”
“She said, ‘Whaaaaaaaaat!’”
Ha ha! Noto laughed. Another group of stragglers still in the classroom cracked up about something unrelated at just about the same time, and the room filled with the sound of laughter.