Episode Two: Love Talk with the Teacher ―July 2032―
The extra lesson had ended. Only the teacher and I remained in the classroom after school; the tablet was already switched off and placed on the desk.
“Just pretending to be a girl for a bit, and it becomes something passed down forever? That’s such a cringe-worthy dark history, poor thing.”
“Uehara-san, it seems you haven’t quite grasped today’s extra lesson.”
“Nah, I get it, alright? But saying he pretended to be a woman just because he used kana characters? Makes no sense. Kikunōshi was a big deal, right? Guess he was stressed too.”
“Are you suggesting he pretended to be a woman to relieve stress?”
“Isn’t that it?”
“…Let’s review it again tomorrow. We’ll also discuss the background of Heian period literature.”
Initially, I’d been calculating how to get on well with the teacher, but it was me whose regard for her had grown. The slightly different distance I felt with her compared to my best friend, Suzuka, was somehow comfortable – comfortable enough to kill time with trivial chatter.
So, there was no deeper meaning behind my question. Since failing meant a week of one-to-one remedial lessons, and the teacher was only in her second year after graduating, not much older than me, it was just part of a bit of casual communication.
“Hey, do you have a boyfriend, Sensei?”
“No, I don’t.”
The teacher answered flatly, without hesitation or pretence.
“Really? Well, you probably do, but you’re an adult and a teacher, so you wouldn’t tell a student like me, right?”
“No, truly… I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Despite stating it so firmly, her expression held a hint of something hidden, something suggestive. From behind those emotionless eyes, often described by everyone as “impossible to read”, neither the teacher’s truthfulness nor her feelings could be discerned.
“Well then, what about your first love? At your age, it must have been ages ago, right?”
I deliberately emphasised “ages ago” to tease the adult teacher. But this teacher, who didn’t get jokes, replied with a perfectly serious expression.
“…What exactly is the definition of first love? Does it end when your feelings for the other person fade? Or when they start seeing someone else…?”
“Eh?”
“Isn’t it wrong to just decide it’s over?”
—At that moment, I sensed it. Could it be that the teacher had been thinking about the same person all this time?
And the instant I realised, I couldn’t help but ask.
“Do you still like your first love, sensei?”
It was absolutely not a question born of curiosity or meant to tease. If the teacher nodded in agreement… I wanted them to hear about my “trouble”.
“Yes, I do. Even if that person got married, or came to dislike me… I think I would surely always… still like them.”
The matter-of-fact tone and voice were exactly the same as during lessons. Surely, the fact of liking “that person” was simply a given for the teacher.
Even though she could easily brush off any unrelated student question, she faced mine head-on and answered sincerely.
I’d never seen such a clumsy yet earnest adult before.
“More about you than me, Uehara-san. I don’t like giving this sort of advice… Romance is enjoyable, but neglecting everything else isn’t good.”
“Eh? What are you talking about?”
“Word has reached the teaching staff about your relationship with Kinugasa-san. Might your failing this term’s exams be down to being head over heels in love?”
“N-no! It’s not that! It’s just… I don’t really understand this feeling of liking someone…!”
That was my secret, something I’d never told anyone but my best friend, Suzuka.
“……Eh? S-sorry, that came out suddenly”
I was the most flustered of us all. My heart was racing, my voice cracking. The teacher seemed genuinely surprised, her usual poker face breaking as her eyes widened.
“Is that so? …Is this something I should be hearing about?”
“Yeah… well, I’ve already said it!”
“…So, does that mean you were dating Kinugasa-san without knowing whether you liked him or not?”
“Was dating him, right. We’ve broken up now. He confessed, and I thought, well, Wataru’s a nice guy, maybe I could grow to like him… but I never once felt that way. I’m awful, aren’t I?”
It wasn’t just Wataru. The reason I’d end up dating anyone who pursued me earnestly was undoubtedly because, deep down, I was panicking.
If people found out I had no romantic experience, even as a second-year high school student, I’d get that slightly condescending vibe like, “You still haven’t?”
So everyone lies. They say they have someone they like. They have a boyfriend. They’ve had sex. What gifts they’ve received, it’s like one of those status symbols, something people envy.
But the moment I started dating so calculatingly, it was plain as day it wouldn’t work out. None of my past boyfriends ever lasted long.
“I don’t think it’s pathetic. I just found it surprising. You’re beautiful, Uehara-san, and you stand out. You must be popular? I’d assumed, rather presumptuously, that you’d had numerous relationships.”
“Well, I won’t deny being popular, but I’ve actually dated very few people. Even when I do start seeing someone, I end up feeling guilty about not being able to accept their affection honestly, and I end up breaking it off… Honestly, I hate myself for it.”
“I see. You’re very earnest. I must revise my opinion of you.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to being judged by my appearance.”
Wearing short skirts or flashy outfits is something I do for myself, because I like it. Yet I was constantly lumped together and labelled as “just out to have fun”, with people assuming my whole character based on that.
Don’t you think most people harbour prejudices about certain types – gals, otaku, teachers, and so on?
The reason I started dressing like this stems from a row back in secondary school, but there have been quite a few advantages to my flashier appearance. One benefit is that it’s become easier to spot men who approach purely for superficial reasons, or those who look down on me with prejudice.
For someone as wary as me, being ‘easy to read’ is useful. It’s handy when someone confesses their feelings, as it makes their intentions easier to discern.
Once I know what they want, I can rationally decide whether to go along or refuse. I want to avoid pointless exchanges as much as possible.
When you become an adult like you, I suppose people start judging you not just by your looks but also by your job title. In a way, I suppose it’s convenient, but thinking about how you’d be more swayed by stereotypes and preconceptions makes it seem like a hassle.
“Hey, aren’t you at the age where you have to start thinking about marriage? Do things around you really start changing?”
“Well… in my case, my parents have started actively trying to find me someone, which is rather troublesome.”
My friends complain their parents get annoyed when they mention having boyfriends, but apparently when you reach marriageable age, parents react completely the opposite. …Somehow, that doesn’t sit right with me.
“Listen, Sensei. Even if it’s after the extra lessons finish, would you still be willing to talk to me about things? There’s a lot I can’t say to friends my own age.”
Talking to someone so different from anyone around me was incredibly stimulating. Plus, I simply wanted to talk to the teacher more. Being around someone who still cherished their first love so deeply might help me understand what it feels like to like someone.
“…When a student asks, I can’t very well refuse, can I?”
“You’re the best, sensei! You’re so dependable ♡”
She accepted my cheeky request, exploiting her position, with the earnestness that matched his reputation.
The special feeling of sharing a secret with a school teacher? The curiosity before starting something new?
I couldn’t quite put it into words, but inside my chest, a colour I’d never seen before spread out, like mixing all the unnamed paints together.