Just then, one of the girls toddled away from her group and right up to me.
“Nagase-sensei, what’s wrong?”
It was the wallflower girl from my first day. Ever since I helped her break the ice that first time, she had learned how to join social groups on her own.
“Don’t you wanna play with your friends? Why’d you walk away?” I asked.
“...Cuz you looked lonely.”
“O-Oh.”
I must’ve let it show on my face. Instantly, I cursed myself. I was supposed to be looking after them, not the other way around. At this rate, I would never be a real teacher.
“Did something bad happen?”
She was a very observant girl. For better or for worse, she reminded me of myself.
She looked up at me with innocent eyes untainted by darkness. She was pure white; the adults in her life would determine what colors she took on. And while I felt I could be a force for good, at the same time, it frightened me. What if I dyed her in the wrong color — permanently?
“What’s wrong?”
I decided to talk to her about it.
“Well, um, I have a question: If you were going to throw a party, what kind of stuff would you want to do?”
“A party?”
“Say, for example, it was a big party with everybody here. What would be the funnest thing you could think of?”
She fell silent for a moment, thinking as hard as she could.
“...Anything.”
“Anything, huh?”
It wasn’t a bad answer, per se. But for her sake, I wanted to be clear.
“Listen... I think that’s a perfectly good answer, but if there’s something you really want, it’s okay to say it flat-out. Nobody can read your mind, y’know?”
But this only seemed to hurt her. And when I saw her little face twist in misery, I realized: Oh. She’s probably heard that same thing from dozens of people by now.
If I didn’t even have the tact to interact with a kid more than ten years my junior, then I had no business being a teacher.
But the little girl remained persistent.
“Anything would be fun! I mean it!”
She was desperate to get me to understand.
I’d thought she was weak, but that was only ever an assumption on my part. No, she was strong — and maybe even more mature than I was, the way things were looking. But as the grown-up in charge, I couldn’t acknowledge that. Instead, I looked her in the eye and spoke to her, trying to draw out whatever it was I couldn’t yet see.
“Absolutely anything? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Anything.”
“Oh, I get it. Because anything can be fun depending on how you look at it, right?”
I tried to pretend I had it all figured out, but she gave me a funny look.
“Um... it’s fun because your friends are there.”
It’s fun because your friends are there... Because your friends are there... Friends...
Wait... Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling this way...
This was the entirety of what she meant; there was no deeper meaning to it. But she didn’t have the words to explain that, hence “anything’s fun.” She had taught me something new.
Now I get it. Being a teacher wasn’t just about teaching the kids — there were plenty of things that the kids could teach the teacher, too. Even within three measly days.
“Thank you. Really.”
I reached out and stroked her hair. She beamed at me happily.
“Oh, and... I’m sorry for what I said.”
“That’s okay.”
Just like that, she was willing to forgive me.
At last, my time was up, and my daycare volunteer period was over. Some of the kids were still around, but the older gentleman, Kosugi, waved me over and led me to another room to explain how to write the postmortem report.
“...So anyway, that’s the basic format we look for. I know you’re probably busy, but you don’t have to put too much detail into it.”
After this, I was officially done.
“Any final questions?”
“Umm, let me think...”
There was something I wanted to ask someone who had spent their whole life as a teacher.
“What made you decide to be a teacher?”
I gazed at his face, wrinkled and worn from all his years of experience. His eyes were beautiful — I could only imagine all the things he must have seen in his lifetime.
“Because that’s what I wanted to be.”
“Well, what motivated you to keep...” I started to ask, then stopped myself.
If I asked, he would probably give me a halfway decent answer about the fun and joy and struggle and pain and hardship of being a teacher. But that wasn’t the answer I was looking for. As it turned out, three days was just enough time for me to put it all together.
“So tell me, Nagase-san, why is it you want to be a teacher?” Kosugi asked in turn.
I scanned through all the words in my vocabulary, seeking to put together an answer. But in the end, I repeated the same phrase lodged deep inside my heart.
“I want to be a lighthouse for all those lost at sea.”
Part of me worried that this veteran teacher would think I sounded naive, but I didn’t regret saying it.
“That’s a wonderful dream,” Kosugi replied, accepting my naivete with grace. “But in that case, becoming a teacher is but one of many methods you could use to realize that goal.”
Indeed, it was always just an option. Anything would work, as long as it got me where I wanted to go.
“It’s admirable to want to be a teacher... At least, that’s what I ought to say to you, considering the circumstances,” Kosugi grinned. “But Nagase-san, I encourage you to think about exactly what it is you want, then spend your life chasing after it. Because for you, I imagine the possibilities are truly endless.”
All this time, I’d only ever pictured one path: go to college, get good grades, take the Japanese Teaching Staff Examination, and become a teacher. But that was just one route I could take — just an example, really. I could get there however I wanted and my experience would be unique, even compared to those who took the exact same route as me. Life was full of twists and turns like that.
I wanted to have the eyes to see both the forest and the trees. I wanted to help kids — wanted to remember what it felt like to be one. Right now, I felt that being a teacher was the closest to what I wanted. But if I stumbled across a better path along the way, so be it. Life was flexible and full of possibilities.
“...Thank you for making time for me and welcoming me to your school. It really meant a lot.”
I bowed deeply as I expressed my gratitude.
“I hope this experience helped you, even just a little. Now then, I’ll walk you to the gate.”
“Thanks.”
I wasn’t ready for it to end. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to the kids.
As we stepped outside, I discovered that the shy winter sun had already sunk beneath the horizon. And also, it was cold as heck.
“Let’s go this way.”
Kosugi led the way, and I followed.
“Wait, but... wouldn’t the other way be faster?”
“Nah. See?”
I looked in the direction he pointed.
In the distance, through the first-floor windows, I could see a group of children gathered in the hallway. Each of them held up a piece of construction paper, each with a messy letter scrawled onto it, forming a makeshift banner:
THANK YOU NAGASE SENSEI
“Thank you, Nagase-sensei!”
“Bye-bye!”
“Come back soon!”
“I wanna play more soccer!”
“See you someday!”
Sure, some of the kids had already gone home for the day, but those who remained were smiling and waving goodbye. Some of them were jumping up and down... and a few were even doing chest bumps with each other for some reason.
My field of vision blurred. How had I helped these kids? Honestly, our time together was too short for me to have left any lasting impact. Over time, most of them would probably forget all about me. If anything, they helped me.
I would never forget this warmth in my chest for the rest of my life.
“Wait... I don’t have to stand here at a distance, do I? Can’t I go over there and say goodbye in person?”
“Yeah, of course. I just wanted to set up a touching moment for you.”
The mischievous sparkle in his eye told me all I needed to know.