Episode Two: An Extremely Peculiar and Troublesome Pupil — October 2032 —
The rarely used second elective classroom in the west wing transforms into a dedicated space for Japanese language study sessions every Friday after school.
The timer she had set signalled that thirty minutes had passed since the problems were distributed. Stopping the beeping electronic sound, she propped her cheek on her hand on the desk and pointed at the last problem displayed on her tablet.
“Teacher, this one was difficult.”
“Yes. I’ll explain it now.”
As I displayed the same problem on my tablet and prepared to explain from the lectern, she, seated in the nearest spot, stared at me provocatively with her large eyes.
For a high school student, she possessed a mature air, striking looks, and a deliberately dishevelled uniform.
Though Saikawa Minami High School had a liberal ethos permitting makeup, dyed hair, and even piercings, Uehara-san’s appearance tended to invite misunderstanding – or rather, could easily be mistaken for insolence.
Truthfully, I hadn’t realised she was actually a serious girl until we built this kind of relationship where we properly faced each other and conversed.
“Er… you must understand that the honorifics here are directed from the speaker towards Kamitōmonin. I suspect you’re misinterpreting them as coming from the author rather than the speaker…”
I continued my explanation, glancing to see if Uehara was following. She seemed to be. I had a rule against chatting during lessons, and the diligent girl obediently adhered to it, listening intently.
…But only during lessons.
“Right then, that concludes today’s study session.”
“Thank you. …Hey, Sensei. Aren’t my nails cute today? Suzuka did them for me. What do you think?”
The moment class ended, Uehara-san instantly switched back to being a chatty high school girl.
“I think they look nice. But I’m rather clueless about fashion, so you probably shouldn’t rely too much on my judgement.”
“It’s fine if only you say they’re nice. Because I like you, Sensei.”
—And she approaches me as an extremely peculiar and troublesome student who openly declares her affection for a dull, unremarkable teacher like me.
How on earth did this happen? It’s utterly baffling, but for some reason, Uehara-san seems to harbour feelings for me.
“…I see.”
I still haven’t grown accustomed to these sudden, passionate declarations of affection. I struggle to hide my inner turmoil.
Fortunately, I’ve always been the type whose emotions don’t show easily.
“Eh? What’s with that cold reaction? Oh well, never mind.”
As long as I’m a teacher, I’ve decided never to accept affection laced with romantic feelings from students, regardless of gender. Uehara-san seems quite dissatisfied with my response and protests frequently, but my resolve remains unshaken.
Truly, I always wonder why it has to be me.
Rumours of her immense popularity among male students, thanks to her beautiful face and outstanding figure, even reach the ears of the teaching staff. And yet,
“I still like you today, Sensei.”
“I don’t believe we’re having a conversation.”
She’s still in love with me today.
“It’s your fault the conversation isn’t happening, Sensei! It’s because whenever I say I like you, you always abruptly end it.”
“Pouting like that is rather childish, you know.”
Even if a high school girl openly confessed her feelings, a normal adult wouldn’t accept it. Especially between people of the same sex, it’s even more unthinkable.
…Well, I suppose there are quite a few adults in this world who’d happily make a move on minors, but I find that way of thinking utterly incomprehensible.
“When exactly will you accept my feelings, Sensei?”
“I’ve told you repeatedly. As long as I am your teacher and you are my pupil, I cannot accept them.”
“You can say that because you don’t like me. If you truly did, I reckon you wouldn’t be able to think about reason or common sense anymore.”
“That isn’t love; it’s animal reproductive instinct. Humans can love as humans precisely because we have the shackles of reason.”
“Teacher, aren’t you being rather pedantic for a Japanese teacher?”
“That’s a rather prejudiced remark.”
“But I like that about you too.”
Uehara-san’s intensity, conveying her affection with a gaze so strong it seemed to say “Look at me,” staring straight at me, made me flinch involuntarily.
“…Just two months ago, you said you didn’t understand the feeling of liking someone. It’s hard to believe now.”
Even though she was popular with the opposite sex, and no matter how many confessions she received, it seemed Uehara-san had never been moved by love. After summer supplementary lessons, she confided in me that she’d never felt the desire to be with someone, nor the urge to possess them.
I may have experienced love myself, but I’m not the sort of person who can offer advice on such matters.
So I’d been careful not to say anything irresponsible, not to offer clumsy advice… Yet somehow, the person she ended up falling for was me. If she wanted to experience love, there seemed to be plenty of potential partners if she’d wished.
These days, caught between her first love’s devotion and the constraints of common sense and social expectations, hold no excitement for me. For someone like me, who’d lived earnestly even as a teacher, this was undeniably the kind of story that made me want to clutch my head in despair.