Rino had ruined his own chances to be in Class A. The consequences that followed had him being thrown to F-Class. Begrudgingly, he accepts his fate and settles to being an F-Class student and live the boring High School Life instead of enjoying it by fighting ESBs. There is no way his classmates would pick fights with other classes, they are F-Class after all.
I – The Goth and the Idiot and the Voice of the Revolution:
I bid you good morning on this day. My name is Rino P. Shimuya. If rather, Shimuya Rino would be satisfactory in this country as to state oneself with the surname first before the given name. Today, I have begun my first day of my second-year high school. In Filipino standards, that would make me a grade 11 student.
To note, I am a Filipino boy, but I would take to the term 'Pinoy' to better refer my nationality. It is always nice to be reminded that I am one of the unique 100,000 Filipinos on this country. I once lived in my beloved country the Philippines in the center of Mindanao, Bukidnon, when I was once a lad that lived merely 12 years since the first breath. But when I graduated from my elementary days, it was time to say farewell as certain circumstances had me brought to the country right above mine.
So here I am now, walking in the streets made by the Hapon. I actually do not mind my coming to Japan, I do have a peaking interest to the land of the rising sun. Samurais, ninjas, kimonos, shrines, culture of bowing, cherry blossoms, even Anime. To be honest, it was anime that actually stemmed my interests to Japan in the first place, I learned Japanese from the animations, bit by bit until I was able to understand certain common-place words, then eventually I leaned how to discern a spoken Japanese line without any subtitles, but I was never fully fluent with it until I went. The sooner I went and arrived, I was taken to Japanese classes that helped me become a master of speaking in Yen. Because of the Filipino's unique ability to imitate foreign Accents or fluency in other Languages, I easily made the accent non-existent, the kanji however was such a hard trial but thankfully I persevered and now, I officially have 3 languages.
Now, I no longer have to read the subtitles anymore, I can finally focus on what is going on the screen instead of glancing every time now.
Today, early in the morning at the hour of six in the morning, I continue my education among other Hapon teenagers towards the school called Fumizuki Academy. This school was something of my desires, because this school is never before seen. And when I say the word 'never', take the word to the most physical form of literacy.
The school had a system called the 'Summoning System'. A system that physically manifests a student's grades and, by the help of a very advanced technology, a student can possibly create miniature beings called 'Shyoukanjuu' that uses grades as its power.
In other words, we can summon imps.
Shyoukanjuu's, or 'Avatars' as to easily fit my tastes, are small deformed humanoids that wear either suits of steel armor or weaves of fabric of unknown material. They wield weapons, it can be any weapon from a long sword to a baseball bat, even a construction worker's pickaxe. Their physical appearances barely have any differences than a normal human, except they are as short as a stool, having pointed ears similar to an elf and furry tails. Lastly, they match the same distinguishable traits of the person who summons them: eye color, hair color and body build. One thing though is their voices, they do not speak in anyway but had high-pitched voices, which quite reflects their size, and they are vocal according to the summoner's emotions. For example, if the summoner is confident the avatar in turn would smirk and snicker, if frightened it would shake and whimper, and many more.
When I first heard about Fumizuki Academy and its so-called 'System', I thought it was just typical advertisement capable of luring students to fund the school with a sickly tuition amount while skillfully sugarcoating a typically false activity. When I learnt more and seen the entire thing for myself, they did not exaggerate nor it was sugarcoating. It was actually real.
And their tuition was cheap, so cheap that I actually paid for it myself with my savings and still have several thousands of yen in my keepings.
What actually shocked me to the point of my brain freezing in time was that the Summoning System involved Science and MAGIC. Actual magic, Black magic to be clear.
I never believed in magic, never even believed it to be real as far as I can remember. My last mental image of magic was just an act meant to entertain an ignorant crowd. The Summoning System actually showed me the real definition of magic. I can hardly process how the Summoning System can create small little creatures with Technology and The Supernatural but I never cared about that and rather rushed for enrollment. Not literally, mind you. I was still a middle-school lad when I first heard about it, I waited until I was a first year High School student.
When I finally enrolled to my dream school and became a first year, we were randomly placed in six classrooms. Besides normal classes, we were taught the 'basics', you understood what I mean: how the summoning system began (its given theory of being an influence to make students study harder), how to control and more.
I nearly forgot one thing, avatars are meant to battle against another student's avatar. Part of the Summoning System was when me and my batch becomes 2nd years we will be divided according to how high our grades are. The grading system the academy had is different, rather than a limit of 100 points in a test, it is about how many correct answers one can have in a single hour. Earn good grades, you could be placed among the strongest. And grades are the avatar's health points: which means more points is more strength and health. I learnt a secret from someone that if one has above 400 points in a single subject the avatar will earn a special attack.
Depending on one's overall score from all subjects, the appearance of the avatar will be influenced accordingly after every semester test. I had a friend in my first year whose everyday habit is study, study, and more study. That feat had the Summoning System bless him an avatar that wields a rather awesome spear. The best I could describe it was a 'Runed Spear'.
It was 'cool' to be honest, if I cannot find a better word for it.
Seeing such a strong-looking avatar was enough to give me vigor for a good studying, it seems the school's motivation caught on me. Now that I am a second year, I can finally try the system to the real thing.
….
But I don't think any exciting fight would be happening at all.
All the vigor from last year was all but gone and the next mornings that I will see will be nothing but a complete way to put me down to a hopeless lethargy of unwillingness for I know one thing, just ONE thing that is certainly and undoubtfully true.
I was thrown to the F-Class.
If you had conclusions, you would probably be right about it. F-Class houses all the students with bad class performance and poor grades.
Damn it.
"AAAAAAAARRRRRRKKKKKKCCCCCCHHHHH….." I vocally growled my misfortune. My mood is all but frustrated. The knowing fact that I will be put to F-Class is bad enough, why did the sun have to shine its stupid light on me? My eyes hurt enough!
A tightening grip on my right hand made me look at the small hand that held it for a second before I looked at the owner of that hand straight in her light brown eyes.
She looked at me with concern and worry, half of her paranoia partly there.
I released my right hand from her grip and gently patted her cheek as my intention to reassure her that her elder sibling is just being expressive about his frustration and there is nothing to worry about.
I took her movement to bury her face back to my left chest as a sign she read my silent explanation and we continue to walk; my arm around her shoulder and hers around my waist while our free hands are tightly interlocked; tightly holding on to each other as I guided our way to school.
The girl besides me is my bunso, my younger sibling. Her name is Meiko, despite her age differing mine just by one year she is already second year like me.
She is a very small girl, close to appearing like a prepubescent child on a first glance, earning a short stature as well that her height only reaches my chest contradicting my full height of 6'2" if she wasn't pulling me down. Her skin was paler than fair, and when I say the words 'paler than fair', she literally had milky white skin. Her long straight hair exceeded the length past her waist and she had jet black dark hair with streaks of sapphire blue on some areas. I was able to find out that she dyed her hair without me knowing. Look down on her hair roots, her actual hair color is found there. But I find it rather Japanese-like so I had no complaints about it.
We do not resemble each other in any way, or maybe we do if we regard the distinguishable features. Like her, my skin is fair so it is safe to say I am white-skinned but not enough to match her porcelain-whiteness . Unlike her black hair with artificial color, my hair stayed a jet black, which is very common for us Pinoys. We both had faces that can easily make bystanders identify that we are indeed from the southeast coast of Asia. Family and relatives say that her smile was rare and as sweet as calamansi. Unlike most people who have to make an effort, my presence alone is good enough to entice her smile.
Me, well….you cannot label me as one of the people confident enough to call himself handsome. I had enough experience to know that I am not. My face is too broad and I had lines on my face before, wrinkled frown lines and I suffered a pimpled face and it was worse than I thought. In order to never feel miserable about my face, I leveraged my spiky black hair (including my bangs) that reached past my chin to hide certain areas of my face. My jawline was covered with my side locks, most of my cheeks included and both my eyes were covered with my bangs ending at the bridge of my nose. Thanks to hair lotion they stay in place even in a windy day, make my hair look slick and shiny, and it was straighter than ever.
I am not troubled in any way when my eyes were covered with my hair. I can see through the gaps just fine and I have yet to fall into an accident because of it so I preferred to keep my hair this way at all times. Plus, it shields my eyes from the sun. It also makes my face look small…..or thin. Definitely thin.
Now appearing no longer repulsive I hold the demeanor of a man with a bad omen. Most other times people would mistake me for a criminal or the like, and the most common reaction I ever encounter is that they were intimidated and tried their efforts to not even let a piece of their clothing touch me. It was quite an amusement to frighten adolescent women and weak-hearted men with my mere presence and stare.
I looked up a little higher at the distance I faced to see the entire building that is Fumizuki Academy as I noticed that it is getting bigger and nearer. We must be close.
After a very long and silent walk (with my bunso slowing me down) we finally reached the gate. As I neared, I noticed all the Sakura trees were releasing cherry blossoms to the air and are falling to the ground. The welcoming cleanliness of the school is indeed prominent and the sun is using all of its capabilities to make it shiningly obvious and very beautiful.
If the day was cloudy and that bastard sun was nowhere to be seen I would have considered the scenery around me 'very beautiful'. No sarcasm, I horribly wished for the sun to explode.
But the sun is not the only thing that is ruining my already ugly morning.
As I reached the gate and walked passed it, I looked around me to look at the park that the school had. it is just at the side of the school , it had its own tinge of beauty, its flora was quite grandiose even for a school like this. There were flowerbeds as well, bearing many roses that I do not recognize, adjacent to the walls and beneath the windows of classrooms or lounges, granting any occupant with a flowery scent the sooner they open. And a freshly trimmed grass area beside the cobblestone pathway to the entrance. Reminds me of home, those grasses were exactly like the ones on Runway.
I looked straightforward and beheld the school building. There stood two 4-story high buildings greatly widespread in a rectangular shape, one building appeared to be made of fine red brick, especially the walls, and designed with great architecture, with classical tastes and most windows colored with beauty. The other building was a contradictory to its partner: a rather plain building, the white wall with molds growing out of its horribly long crack the only prominent feature it has. A bridge in between the two buildings that served as the center staircase within forms the buildings as one.
I stared at the white building even longer than the red building, not because it was horrible than the other, not because it looked unmaintained for more than a year, not because it was never renovated, ever, but because I can see my designated classroom from the ground. I know about the interior of 2F-Class from my explorations back in first year.
Ugh, I could already see the spider house ceiling.
I begrudgingly hate to even walk straight inside once I saw it.
But now that the chances of the F-Class being my class are inevitable….
….it seems I have no choice but to take it like a bitch.
FUCK!
I growled again, the dread my misfortune gave me gets even worse and my personality would lapse once I break.
My bunso did the same reaction as before and I pinched her cheek rather fondly, except that her elder brother was getting pissed and everything is not going to be alright for me. I wonder if she took that message right.
The double doors of the school opened suddenly and a very big man came out. And when I say big, I mean a 'very muscle-bound man' that the bulges from his suit greatly flaunts his muscular build. From a first glance, anyone would assume the man's occupation to that of a military instructor that would not tolerate even a single mistake. Others would feel intimidated at the presence of this man.
But not me. I know the sir very well, otherwise I would have been under the mindset of being very defensive, frowning and glaring without him noticing because of my bangs.
Before me, stood in front of the entrance doors of my school is Nishimura Souichi. This man's physical build ultimately screamed 'Military Drill Instructor' but with his suit of blue, matching blue plants and a white shirt underneath with a dark-blue tie, only people with a good sense of judgment would quickly assume him with the word 'Teacher', because he is one. His physical build is muscular in every way, his masculinity is quite prominent that his hard muscles bulge from every area, especially the arms and legs. A testament from his all his hobbies of triathlons.
"Ah, Shimuya!" The masculine Sir lightly exclaimed as he acknowledges my presence and walks down the three-step stairs to step closer to me with a big box tucked under one hand. "Welcome back to school." Sir's massive (and not even intimidating) build is a stark contrast to the warm and welcoming expression he expressed to me.
Sir brought his arm close to his face to look at the time on his wrist watch. "Early as always I see. You haven't lost your touch." Sir remarked with an expression as a father would to praise a son of his talents.
Even though I have not seen sir for 2 months I greet him as if he was my neighbor. "….Morning sir." I silently greeted him in a whisper that sir could not hear and can only understand by reading my lips.
Sir Nishimura and I were close, a friendship that exists between a teacher and a student was forged between us. My past classmates told me that I was the only one to have the disciplinarian as my friend. I understood why it was something major. Nishimura Souichi can be gentle but being on his bad side includes many painful drawbacks. They fear his toughness and use of authority, his most feared capability amongst students was his remedial lessons. I never been to one but rumors told them of comparison to a military school teachings: brutal, strict rules of attention, and a lot of mental torture. Therefore, Sir Nishimura was not an easy man to be approached by students.
However, I managed without any trying. How I did it: simple interaction. The reason why people never managed the same thing was because they fear him and avoid him like the demon he seems to be instead of the teacher he was. I had used absolutely no effort, use polite words, say 'good morning', ask questions regarding educational lessons if I do not understand and I even asked for his advice. Due to him being my adult friend, I willingly help him when it involves physical effort, despite the fact that he could tip a car over singlehandedly. Either bringing papers to his office or even doing a few errands for him, I would do it because I want to. To have him tutor me with my lessons is yet to be done, I fear that he would condone the same treatment of remedial lessons in the process. The sooner I take one is my last resort.
As Sir strode closer to my distance he extended his hand to me and I automatically took it, shook it, switched to holding each other's thumbs and shaking again, then we switched once more (me holding his four fingers) and brought his knuckles to my forehead, letting my bangs be disarrayed in contact, and he made it worse by ruffling my head once I released him.
I adjusted it back.
It was a handshake he and I made up. We do a patterned handshake as friends, then I bring his knuckles to my forehead as a form of respect in Pinoy culture. It never gets old.
He seemed to have really missed me as to ruin my hair.
Sir turned his eyes to the girl who clung to me since this morning. Sir raised an eyebrow. "Who's this?"
Tension built up in me, the worry grew and my throat somehow stiffened that I might not be able to speak, and I took a deep breath thinking it might loosen my slight agitation, no hope at all. There is absolutely no problem for me to have Meiko meet Sir, but I really worry about how my sister would react. She had the worst case when it comes to meeting someone who she has no memory seeing, especially if it was a scary-looking, very large man like Sir Nishimura.
As my sibling clung unto me with both her arms wrapped (painfully) tightly around my waist and her face buried to the side of my chest as if her life depended on me I patted her shoulder to call her attention.
I braced and I did not notice that I held on to my breath for a moment.
Noticing the touch she looked up from my chest to my face, the paranoia in them was still there. I mentally shook my head and clicked my tongue in pity, she still has many a ways to go. I motioned to sir with a slight swing of my head, she looked at sir and the look of shock and fear overtook her expressions the sooner she saw him (probably by his gigantic build) and she swiveled to my back using me as a visual barrier from the big teacher to hide.
Sir speaks up, frowning in confusion and slight surprise, "Kirishima? What is it?" He said, perplexed by her sudden movement.
As expected, he instantly mistook her for Kirishima Shouko.
I thought of the same thing as well when I met the latter before, she and my little sister look exactly alike. Dark violet hair, pale white skin, an average but bigger frame than my little sister's, and is undeniably BEAUTIFUL. Not just physical appearances does she major without effort, she was the daughter of wealthy parents, very intelligent and has above average ability in sports.
She majored in so many areas that many men dared the attempt of courting her, which usually ends in a rejection.
Foolish men, they should have known better than to admire the exterior features of a woman.
"….Meiko." I silently whispered, finally speaking after 54 days (I think) of the silent state I was in the last few months. The tension in my person lingered the longer I stayed near sir's presence, I feared for Meiko's reactions, not of him.
"What?" Sir asked, somehow hearing my whispers.
Using my vocal cords, thanks to days of disuse, I said in a distorted voice, "….Marikawa Meiko is her name." Even if I had used effort that I was breathing heavily afterwards, it would still be impossible to comprehend my words, but sir and I know each other to a certain degree, he understands exactly even my inaudible mutters.
Sir stared for a few seconds before his eyes widened in remembrance, "Wait a minute, was this her?"
I nodded.
"Goodness, she does look like Kirishima." As his expression parted surprise, his eyes were evident of concern and worry.
Sir knew about my little sister, especially with what happened 4 years ago. I often told stories about her. Had to say, he was very sympathetic about what could have happened to her if I had not intervened. What he had done afterwords was an absolute way of breaking whatever title the students had on him: he told me every piece of advice to help her recover. He tried to help ME recover. But that was not all of it, when I told him of my darkest secret, the one thing that I had done in order to save Meiko that I never thought would consider telling him about, he did not abandon me.
He was actually worried about me. He tried to console me, he tried to set my mind straight, he even tried to throw out his work schedule just so he could help me therapeutically in my house.
Because of what he had done for me, he was no longer the teacher I see anymore. He was the greatest example of a father to me. I was a target—no, a magnet for trouble, and he was there to stop it before I could repeat what I had done 4 years ago. He was actually the first person to guide me through the ways of the school. Whenever we met up, he would greet me with a smile and I would always greet back. I never had many friends before, he was one of those who filled the gap. Whenever it was lunch, I always sit alone and try not to gather the attention of ignorants, but Sir would not leave me be, he would sometimes join me and give me his comforting company. Whenever he has less work on his desk and can go home early, he would walk home with me. He was the one that kept my mouth talking whenever the chance, I cannot be considered a chatterbox, you see. I was introverted and I tend to be quiet. I always maintain one-word responses before.
I already found out that he was doing all those things in order to 'bring me back'. But I would never tell him on that. His efforts are always appreciated and remembered. To think that he would go such limits just for a traumatized student like me, he could never be the greater man than he is; He was the best Tatay ever.
My real father….was just not there. Not that I say he passed on but he and Nanay have been away for so long on their work that I never saw them again after 5 years. I even forgot what they look like since. They were always busy, there was not even the chance for me to see them in the eye, even for a millisecond. But I will not hate them for not being there in my hardest moments, I will not forget them because they focus on their work than us, I will not disown them because they could not spare their time for us. I will never come so close as to hate them for such a reason.
I will wait for them.
The sooner I see them and they say that they will not go overseas anymore, it would the best day of my life.
Which is why I appreciated Sir Souichi's presence, he was a surrogate father in Tatay's place.
I finally understood how people saw God, I saw him in Sir Nishimura. He saved me. He restored me. Those students who call Sir Nishimura a demon should be damned, Sir Nishimura was a saint at heart.
"Has she been doing alright?" Sir asked gently as his concerned eyes lay over Meiko behind me.
I nodded. "….But let us remember our warnings,"
"I know." Sir interjected immediately, "I'm not that type to compliment anyway." He stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. His grip was gentle and very warm. Was this how a father's touch would feel? "Are you doing okay?"
I was silent for a little before I nodded lightly. "….It was all thanks to you, Sir. I managing to be human again." I replied sincerely.
"Atta boy." He said gently, patting my shoulder. He didn't consider his strength so I winced from his big hand. "How was your break, Shimuya?" Sir asked me, retracting his hand.
I rolled my shoulder, "….It was uneventful." I replied with a low voice. "….But at least I did not become fat over the weeks."
Sir laughed loudly, though his gruff voice made Meiko stiffen, her grip on my waist grown tight. I barely held down a croak of pain.
"What did you do to stay skinny?" Sir asked after recovering from his laughing fit.
"….Being a little energetic whenever I was holding my guitar after learning the tabs." I fought back the smirk on my face at the memory, though my lips quivered as an effect.
Sir chuckled. "Oh, so you dance to the song?"
"….If you consider 'headbanging' dancing, then yes."
He laughed loudly again, and my kidneys were about to break apart from Meiko's sudden strengthened grip. Too tight!
I gripped her arms and tried to pry them off, which was futile because her grip on me was iron strong. This happens every time whenever I was in her grasp at the wrong moment.
If you are still scared, at least do not kill me in the process!
"Ha ha! Ah, I remember the time I nearly broke my neck. I was running a 1000 meters in an obstacle course on my College. I ended up tripping at one moment so my neck felt like it was about to dislocate and there were three other runners beside me, sweating and burning and dying, trying to reach the finish line like we were running on a desert and the finish was the oasis." He laughed again, this time he was starting to cry out of it.
Get off! Meiko, if you don't let go, you are going to break my lower spine!
"Ah, the memories."
I pounded my fist on her forearm, this time she stopped herself from breaking my waist. Her grip strength felt drained, weak and I could feel that she felt downcast, ashamed as well. Now I feel bad, I should not have used too much strength on my hand.
I rubbed the area I pounded and stopped her from removing her hands. I am not mad, but she should at least learn to have self-restraint. Her fear combined with the arm strength she had, she was a danger to me or anyone.
She nearly killed me countless times before.
"….I could relate to an experience, Sir." I commented, believe it or not but I was paying attention to his story while I was getting a waist-shrink from my tiny little sister. "….I played a rock song the sooner I sat up from my bed and I regret headbanging after freshly waking up. My neck felt like it cracked for a week."
Sir laughed again, this time lighter. He raised a tanned hand, expecting my response. I gave my response by high-fiving it then interlocking fingers before shaking. Then we part.
He reached for the box he held under one muscular hand and rummages inside with his other hand, he got one envelope in between two fingers before he asked me, "What was her name again?"
"….Marikawa Meiko." I said slowly, making sure he gets the right kanji symbols in his head at hearing it.
He rummaged a little more before he took out another small envelope and handed both to me. "Here you go, what is written there shall be your designated classes for the entire year." He explained.
I nodded, taking both envelopes with a free hand, checking if they are the right names, which they are. I patted my sister's back to signal that we are moving. I took a step forward and she takes one, hitting the back of my loafers with her toes. Then another, she takes one without accidentally kicking me, then we strode slowly, the stride flowing gracefully.
When we passed by sir's figure my sister quickly switched to my side, away from the big teacher, and began crushing my waist again. I sighed and shook my head, this is seriously going to be difficult, for me or her, maybe both.
The door was left open so I do not have to do the trouble of opening it. But before I went in, I looked over my shoulder and spoke (with effort) to Sir once again with a loud and clear voice so he could hear me from my distance.
{….Maayong buntag, Sir.}
He curtly nods in response, "Mm! Morning to you as well."
Ah, the memories.
~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~
When we entered the school, an air of security surrounded my vicinity and I sigh a relieving sigh, the tension finally gone but only slightly. If Meiko had stopped crushing my waist I would have felt even more better now that the sun is never going to bother me.
I tucked the envelopes in my chest pocket and I massaged her shoulders while gently peeling her off me.
Noticing my touch she lifts her head up from my chest, she later noticed that the environment was no longer bright anymore. She looked around us, taking in the information that we are now inside a dim hallway of the school (slightly past the shoe locker) and we are no longer outside.
Her tense form relaxes and she rests her little head to my chest making me 'oof'. A slight internal weight within me is lifted off knowing that I do not have to worry about her in the outside, and I do not have to worry about her well-being every second.
I ruffled her head a few times before gently pushing her back by the shoulders, I felt a wonderful sensation of release s as she finally released my waist, letting the air and blood seep in while I take out the envelopes to see what class she earned herself into.
But first, I placed the two bags that I have been carrying on my free shoulder the whole time next to the wall. Have you ever tried going to school, with two bags slung on one shoulder, while someone was slowing you down by crushing your waist? It was not pretty.
At least I survived.
Holding both envelopes having both my name and hers stickered at the open flap, I took out mine first, I pull out what seemed to be a poorly folded and very old paper having my name scribbled on it and unfolded it.
F
Why the fuck am I not surprised?
I see the deformed sixth letter of the alphabet plastered with red paint and even several drops of red paint is spread across the entire paper.
This looked like it was painted by some kid with no hygiene in his work.
Forcefully putting the growing frustration to the back of my mind before I would punch somebody out of frustration from behind, I pull out the paper inside her envelope. Somehow her paper was like the same material used for award certificates and I see a single letter printed in an AR HERMANN font.
A
My eyes went wide, and I never thought that such a mere letter could even provoke that reaction from me.
Just from looking at a single alphabetical letter I was suddenly overcome with joy, I was so proud, so proud that I tucked the envelopes to my pockets, leaned down, slipped my hands under her arms, enveloped my sister into my chest very tightly, brought her up from the ground and into the air she goes as I spun her around in congratulations.
Unbelievable! I hardly seen her study at home, to think that she actually had such good scores and made it to the top section of the second year level was something I never expected.
The test was all kanji and overall, the number of English words there were very less. I never had seen my sister look at a kanji symbol for more than a glance, I thought she hated them. She and I took Japanese classes together: she had average fluency of understanding while I had done better. I presumed she would be having difficulty reading the questions and might not have enough time to answer many. To think that she actually got better scores than me, her big brother, I think my little sister requires than just 20 spins because of having a higher score than me.
The big sibling was supposed to beat the little sibling, I will not accept it without 'penting'!
She looks at me with a mixture of surprise and confusion but she gradually enjoys her little ride as I intensify my turning speed, forgetting her first task of questioning why I was suddenly doing this.
Spinning and spinning, twirling and twirling, her arms spread as she seemed lost in her own little enjoyment (while oblivious to the fact that I was actually trying to make her dizzy), her hair flaring like black and blue flames, I tried my best to stay in one place without dropping the tiny girl in my arms.
When I figured she had enough, I slow down to a stop, both of us breathing in labor from that escapade, and I lower her down back to her feet. She tried to stand still but she gradually sways out of balance; submitting to her dizziness and falls back to my arms (gotcha) almost making me topple but I held firm to my footing. I was dazed as well but I can properly stand straight with just a slight swaying.
I stood still and she leaned heavily against me as we recover our breaths, I stroked her hair from head to shoulder blade with my fingers to fix the entangled locks back to straightness. What conditioner has she just used today? I pondered over that as I continue to smother and sometimes pinch some of her black and sapphire locks between my fingers, trying to relish the smoothness of the locks and the fragrance her hair gives.
When she finally got her person together she looked up to me with a smile; her pure white face tinged red from the spin and a very amused expression that I do not witness quite often. I pinch both her cheeks and shook vigorously yet gently, she seems to like it as she smiles, slipped her hands to the side of my ribs without me noticing until it was too late and tickles my side in turn. I had not expected that so I flinched, croaked and jerked from her touch, I retaliate and slipped my fingers to her neck before she could close the space by lifting her shoulders, but too late I had my fingers to her neck and I wiggled them.
She starts to jolt as the tickling sensation on her neck becomes intense, gritting her teeth as she did, but it looked more of a smile than anything. She grabbed both my wrists and intentionally bends her legs so she could lower down and slip off my hands far from arm's reach.
Oh no, you don't. I switched targets and I aimed under her arms. She anticipated my actions and closed the space of her armpits but there is no way that's gonna stop me. I forced my way in to her vulnerable spot, and knowing well that she is never strong with her shoulders to keep my hands out, I was easily slipping in and she is already reacting even though I haven't touched her most sensitive nerve receptors yet.
Without her expecting it I wrapped my arms around her head and pulled her close to my chest for a tight embrace.
It was fun but I want things to be done with.
Knowing that playtime is now over she wrapped her small arms around my waist, tightening them not out of desperation for safety but for the affection that she needed from me. I will gladly give her as much as she wanted.
I tightened the arm around her neck and I patted, stroked and ruffled her head. We swayed from one foot to the other at a time, it was like we were dancing. We end up tightening our embrace even further that it suddenly became a competition to squeeze the other to submission, looks like it was not over yet. No matter how many times we do hugs, it is always warm and my heart grows warm just from doing so.
After long seconds of hugging, we have no winner of our bear hug duel so we finally parted. I fixed her uniform that got disarrayed from all the fuss: I adjusted her collar; I straightened the folds of her sleeves and cuffs before I fixed her hair to proper placement so they can freely flow at her back and more so by her shoulders that it sometimes hides her face in a sideways perspective. That was how she liked them.
In turn she reached for my neck and adjusted my tie that I did not notice was loose. Not minding at all, I appreciate the gesture and let her be. After pulling the short end and the loop not so tight around my neck, she draws back her hands and takes two steps back to look at me fully.
I in turn looked at her full form. The women's uniform she wore was a white polo shirt with black trims running along the edges of the collar and a single black line running down from each shoulder to the bottom. A black blazer covers the front, gold trims run down the edges of the collar all the way around the edges of the bottom, a left chest pocket with the school emblem knitted with gold thread in the center. A red necktie with the school emblem knitted in the center as well. The skirts for the women, an emperor waist red skirt with parallel fold lines that make it seem nicely detailed. It was quite smaller than I expected when the uniform (of her size) is in her person.
Since my sister's desire for modesty was close to the point of 'sheltering' she wore black and red striped stockings on her legs. It actually quite fits well into her uniform, the black blazer and her red skirt, matching colors.
The only difference from the female uniform to the male uniform was the blue tie and the blue trousers. The school had a dress code of brown loafers for both genders.
The entire uniform itself is quite the strike to my fancy, it had the same feel of formal attires. I am indifferent for formal attires but the best looking formal attire is my cup of tea. What I did not like to the pit of my soul is that the polo shirt was white.
WHITE!
Why is it always white!?
Excuse me if I complain to the point of offending anyone, but I never liked white all my life. One, it hurts my eyes as the sun reflects the light. Two, the stains it potentially gets is easy to see. Three, it looks so fucking ugly when it is plain.
If it were not for the amazing, finely knitted for warmth, very detailed black blazer that obstructed the horrible white I would have ranted the school to the ground.
Anyway….
I pulled out my Iphone out of my pocket, pressed the power button and the screen lights up, the flaming guitar wallpaper shows along with the number pad screen and the analog clock showing.
7:03 A.M.
Hmm.
We should hurry, I will not permit another soul to be the first person to reach his classroom first before me and my sister.
~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~
While the both of us changed our shoes to the indoor white (ugh) shoes before going for the classroom I went first to the faculty office to look for a teacher assigned to A-Class. Only to find it devoid of any adult or any other who can help me.
Maybe it is still early in the morning for teachers to come besides Sir, or maybe they are at their classrooms making preparations for the introductions they shall present to their students?
Without any other places to go we head off to the third floor, where me and my sister's classrooms would be, waiting for us to enter their doorstep and make us their students.
But I am not looking forward to my classroom.
Oy...
I sighed my disappointment, the closest star in the sky that I hated the most was higher above the horizon than I thought, I did not notice that amount of time had passed already. The windows of the hallway sadly do not have curtains like I wished so the hallway onward to A-Class (I chose to drop my sister off first) were horribly raising the temperature of my body as the sun shone its way inside. And even though I am clothed thickly with my good blazer the heat is searing into my skin as if I was bare naked.
My sister had developed from hiding her face on my chest to casually walking by my side, hand in hand while she was now carrying her own bag by her shoulder. I was glad that she is no longer crushing my waist, my tolerance to pain is not fit to withstand something with a grip like hers for 1 hour.
Unlike me, she has stronger tolerance to the sun and rather enjoys its warmth. She nonchalantly lets the sun beams land on her pure white skin with a neutral expression on her face.
Honestly, how does anyone ever appreciate the heat?
Passing by the Classroom of section C, I steadily grew nervous and my body was tensing once again. One more classroom and I will be nearing A-Class's doorstep.
Would there be a teacher? Would there be students who come early? What if the teacher was a male? What if the male students would only leave her more paranoid? What if she breaks?
Stopping in my stride, I lift up my head to gaze at the sign of section A. And I clicked my tongue both for making me impressed and for giving me a bad opinion of them.
They are too spoiled.
The sign of A-Class was very detailed, it must have been made from a certain metal considered strong. There are metal vines circling the rectangular object and the '2-A' scribed in the sign was clearly from gold paint.
Again, they are too spoilt.
I sighed again, no longer caring about what this sign is to me, there was something else considered worth worrying.
I looked at my sister, noticing the movement of my head by the corner of her eye while she looks at the fancy windows she looks back at me with a questioned expression; waiting for what is it I want with her.
I slip my hand off her hold and lay it around her shoulder; yet she persisted as she grabs on to my hand hanging at her right shoulder and her free hand wraps around my waist.
I shook my head with a sigh, she is still clingy. This will be a problem if this goes on.
I pushed one side of the double doors in as I turn its shining gold knob and the both of us entered. I was instantly provoked to look around me. My sister's eyes went wide as she is finally introduced to the classroom of section A for the first time in her life in Fumizuki Academy.
My first thought was that it was too big to be a classroom, then I was fascinated by it for a little. The entire floor was entirely of granite tiles, patterned with wonder. Romanian columns stood about in alignment. Flower beds were stationed on certain parts where visitors could pass by, filling the air with all of its glorious scents. A personal waiting lounge for—I would presume—guests, complete with sofas that can devour a man whole into its very hollow yet comforting structure once sat and a coffee table in the center for coffee and cakes. Instead of student's desks, I see student's CUBICLES with a window facing specifically towards the stage where the teaching would commence. Each cubicle had its own laptop, air conditioner, recliner chair and even coffee maker for the ones who do not wish to doze in class. There was even a grand piano at a corner, its surface cleanly polished it reflected the lights of the golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling with golden chains. Looking up to the teacher's stage for teaching, I see a very wide desk for the teacher to stand behind and teach the students. And behind the desk was the biggest screen, close enough to a cinema screen, I ever witnessed; its screensaver an almost 3D-like picture of a sandy beach with flowing waves that do not seem to be in a loop. I gave one more look to the last surprise the A-Class had: its own personal snack bar, containing all varieties of sweets from chocolate bars to chocolate cake.
What a load of shit.
So the kids here are smart, so what?
It DOES NOT mean they deserve better!
So the people of F-Class are not smart, what's the point of putting them in the most fucking unclean classroom!? That will only cause discouragement. Were they segregating?
Seeing all these equipment frustrated me even more and my head is stiffening that I was shaking in my growing fury. I am certainly frowning behind my bangs, I glared at every single piece of equipment with every shred of my jealousy fueling my hate. Hate for this equipment, hate for any other A-Class student that would step foot into this classroom and have the privilege to use them, hate for the person who suggested a hierarchy treatment according to grades. This was absolutely wrong, just fucking—
A firm press on the area between my index finger and my thumb snapped me out of my hateful thoughts and I looked at my right hand. My sister is pressing both her thumbs against my palm in a massaging pattern.
My frown and glare was all but gone and my thoughts softened to a healthy mindset, my fierce hatred literally forgotten the sooner I felt her touch. I rubbed her upper right arm in return for doing this.
My sister was a natural, from all the times she was with me she would always see through my stoic visage and understands what emotional conflict is erupting in me just by looking.
For example; what she is doing to me now. She noticed my frustration and she is working her efforts to comfort me by doing what she always does whenever I was angered, self-conflicted or agitated: distracting me from my angry thoughts to something that relaxes and heals.
I closed my massaged hand and held onto one of her massaging hands firmly, she looked at me with unspoken concern, asking me if I was now at peace with her soft gaze.
I pinched her supple cheek fondly as my response; such a good girl.
Maybe I would not mind her having all these spoils to herself.
"Good morning, students!" A feminine voice full of welcome and vigor greets us.
The both of us were equally surprised from the sudden eruption of noise (especially if that noise was full of mirth when we have spent more than an hour in perfect silence) and our reactions vary; I whipped my body to a spine-breaking spin, facing the woman, my hair and bangs flaring in the motion but not enough to reveal my eyes. Calculatingly appearing like I was facing the person, I secretly peek to the side to see my sister's eyes widened at the sight of the person, the fear and shock evident in them and quickly hid behind me, clutching onto my blazer for safety.
When I regained my composure quickly, I regained proper breathing rate and I looked back to the person, further examining the second adult I have met inside the premises of this school. A woman in her mid-twenties comes to us.
She is rather attractive, I might say; her hot pink hair is tied to a bun behind her head rather in a refined way. Her oval glasses rested on the bridge on her nose and behind them are eyes matching the color of her hair. She wore a turtleneck sweater and wore a blazer to cover it. A matching skirt and black leggings, plus some red heels are donned in her person.
The closer she came, my sister was increasingly desperate to hide from the stranger in front of me. "Hello, my name is Takahashi Youko, the homeroom teacher of A-Class. You two are the first A-Class students to enter this classroom." She greeted, her exposed smile granting the intended effect of making me feel welcome.
I gave ma'am Takahashi a slow and small bow, avoiding a deep bow that might expose my sister to the adult the sooner I would do so. I replied, my voice low but just enough for her to hear me. "….This girl here-" I motioned to the trembling girl cowering behind me. "-is the first A-Class student to enter this classroom." I corrected.
She stared before speaking, "Right? What class might you belong to?" Ma'am referred to me.
I fought the urge to look away and instead lowered my head in silent disappointment. The frustration that had just been dissipated because of my sister's caring hands had just came rushing back to my head in full force as I grew even more irate—thinking of the most unclean and unwelcoming classroom I have ever seen in my life minutes ago.
"…I…will not….tell you that." It gets difficult to keep proper pace of my words when I am like this.
With my face hung low, I would not know what kind of expression she made in response to my answer since I cannot see her.
I look up to her again, my visage grew grim on what I am about to do. With a full unlock of the chain in my throat, I was talking with the proper volume and tone. "….Never mind me, I have a very large request in regards to a student in Class-2A." I said firmly, one hand holding a part of my sister's back in preparation for Ma'am's response.
She raised an eyebrow, perplexed over the fact that someone like me is requesting regarding A-Class business. With a moment of thought, she nodded.
I sighed in relief, but not free of my tension. With a very deep inhale, my lips pursed over the seriousness of my request I finally said it.
Gripping the sling of my bag, I began. "Ma'am, you are the homeroom of this classroom, yes? I ask you to watch over the girl behind me with female adolescent supervision."
She leaned to the side to get a clear view of the girl behind me, which is not enough as I am certain she can only see one side of her; which is her right side. "Why?"
I sighed as I dare to say why, "She…..has social anxiety, Ma'am" I cannot say the whole truth, doing so was the same as reliving the horrible event. I must banish the memory as soon as possible. "I request you to have someone assist her time in her studies with great care. If she is left with another female student, I highly suggest the said person to be trustworthy and someone who can watch over her in any class hour."
…
A pregnant pause, Ma'am was frowning as she pondered my words.
"That's…shocking."
I mirrored her expression, thanking my hair for hiding it. "You cannot?"
"No, not that I can't but…..I am slightly confused. Explain her problem, with elaborate detail if you must." She said, her visage growing with concern.
Sighing in relief, I explained to Ma'am. "Besides me she does not trust any other males and looks at them with fear, therefore you cannot leave her in the presence of men. It is highly recommended to not overcrowd her as well, and only females can approach her."
She nodded, gesturing me to continue.
"Since I belong to another class I cannot stay and do the task myself during class hours. So I would request if you would select a female student with a sensitive personality to watch over her."
A short silence before she answered. "Alright." She simply said, closing her eyes, removing her oval glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, processing the information I gave her. "Okay. I'll do what I can for her. Is there anything else I should know, just in case?" She asked, putting her glasses back on.
I let a little time of silence take in before I said it with possibly the deepest and loudest tone I ever used, just loud enough for her to never forget it.
"She cannot speak."
Her eyes widened over the revelation, I concluded that she rarely or maybe never confronted this disability before in her life.
She recovered and placed a finger on her chin to give it a thought. After long moments of thinking, I concluded she can possibly follow my request, if her smile was an indication. "Okay, I think I might be able to handle that well. Is there anything else I should know about?" She asked. I shook my head and she continues, "I guess that's the end of your request, right? Don't worry, as a teacher of the A-Class I swear that she will be in good hands. You have my word." She finishes with a smile.
I trust her, as someone who is a homeroom teacher of the A-Class she should be capable as to accept a request from something like mine. I gave her a bow to show my appreciation, lower than the first bow I performed and my gratitude to her is genuinely pure.
"Oh, one more thing." Ma'am suddenly said. I looked at her, waiting what is it she wants to know. "What's her name and what is your relationship with her?"
I was silent after she asked, considering a few words before I answer.
"….She is my little sister," I said simply, my voice going back to its usual low tone, the same one I use since 3 years. I lastly added, "And rather than me, let her 'say' her own name. Take it as her first exercise to social contact."
She smiles, "Hmm, yes. Well, can you let your little sister show herself? I won't recognize her if she's going to stay behind you." She requested playfully. Somehow such behavior lit a cheerful light in me, only slightly.
With her aura of assurance, I can calmly do so. I spin around, my back facing ma'am and I faced my socially-disabled little sister, she looks at me questionably. I took her hand to my right hand, opened her closed hand and wrote a message in with my index finger across her white palm.
Our private communication begins.
Say hello to your new teacher.
Even though it looked like scribbles when I traced my words she read it without any trouble and she looked at me, perplexed before leaning to the side to look at her 'new teacher'.
"Hello." I hear Ma'am Takahashi greet her as she finally sees my sister's face.
Rather than latch onto me and hide from existence, using my body as a shield like she did when seeing Sir Nishimura, she only hid half her body in front of me and her face is tilted to the side so she can peer at the adult. I failed to mention that she does not trust all women but there were always some exceptions. One of them was professional female teachers.
I could tell that she partly trusts the adult but she is assured that she is trustworthy, given that I introduced her.
"I am going to be your teacher from now on, my name's Takahashi Youko. It's a pleasure to meet you." I hear the basic Japanese greeting line from ma'am and she bowed, even though I cannot see her given that I am facing away.
I patted her side, she looked at me and I motioned my head towards the adult, silently saying that she should return her greetings; know your manners.
Timidly, she raised a petite hand and waved awkwardly before hiding again with half her face peering at the teacher.
Hm.
Trying to take it a little further I moved sideways; completely presenting her entire frame which quite agitated her. I wrapped my hand around her before she panicked, reassuring her that I am still here.
Rubbing her shoulder, I faced ma'am once again, signaling that my job of showing my sister to her is now done.
Ma'am Takahashi leaned forward, just slightly and gently asked, "What's your name?"
I looked at her expectantly, wondering if my Pinay sister , who had never been spoken to a Hapon, even understood what she said.
Then she looked at me with a look in her eyes as if she was asking for permission for something. I did not understand what she is trying to imply so I simply stared at her, waiting for the response I expected.
The next thing she did gave me the answer that she did understand: she reached for her chest pocket, taking out the note I gave her that she should give to the person who would ask for her name and…..she gave it to me rather than the person who asked.
I frowned at her beneath my locks, realizing that she wants me to pass it to ma'am rather than herself. I shook my head firmly and motioned to ma'am, clearly stating that she must do it herself.
I am not helping her in such a simple task.
She scowls at me, disappointed that I left her on her own accord, but nonetheless complied. Slowly and timidly she extended her hand holding the folded white piece of paper to the adult without straying as far as 0.1 meters away from me. Ma'am, carefully considering personal space, takes the paper slowly and carefully as to not even let her finger touch her small digits.
She unfolds it and reads what is written. After a second she folds it and placed it in her skirt pockets. "Right, your name is Marikawa Meiko-san, yes? Don't worry, I will make sure your time in A-Class will be as right as rain so you have nothing to fear." She assured her.
Looking down on my sister, I am left wondering if it will be alright. Even if the person I am leaving her with is a female, a good female person. I am not sure if she is even assured that it will be alright.
Ma'am Takahashi is trustworthy, that much I am sure and can assume without doubt. She has that certain aura that she is very professional and that she knows exactly what she is doing. Still, can my sister trust her? I really want her to, I cannot always be around her all the time to guide her.
I can make a special request to the Headmaster that I should be the one supervising her, but that will do no good at all. Having her supervised in my classroom is much worse. She would just end up depending on me more, never a chance for her to do something independently that would make me proud. I made the decision to let her do this on her own so I must agree only to that. If alone, she will be left to her own decisions. But with someone other than me (who she would always depend on regarding decision making), she would be assisted, not just in decision making but to open up to people.
I know my risks but I wanted what is best for her. I want her to be social, even she has no ability to speak. I want to see her surrounded by friends, I want to see her eyes full of liveliness rather than the distrust whenever around other people, I want to see her admired by both teachers and students because of her achievements.
I cannot be the only one proud of her whenever.
I took her hand again, tracing my words, Time for me to go.
She quickly latches onto me, her grip gotten monstrous, far more stronger than the trip to school for how she hated what I am intending to do. I hardened my heart to stop my heart from shredding itself at the sight of my sister's yearning face, wanting me to not go away and leave her alone.
I sighed mournfully and shook my head; I know, but it is for your own good.
With all honestly, I did not actually want to leave her alone, even though I decided to do so otherwise. My experiences with the boys last school year were horrible, and that worries me now that Meiko is in the same school. But this is what I wanted and this for her, not me.
Therefor I must.
But if any boy decides to fuck around my little sister, the injuries they receive needs only one reason:
They were asking for it.
This is not my class. I traced, holding her shoulder with a hand, my thumb rubbing the edge of her shoulder back and fro for comfort, even though it still will not do any good. You'll be alright. All this cool equipment is yours, you could even have your own laptop here.
Such a thing would not daunt her, that I would know. She stubbornly shakes her head, dark and blue strands frolicking in erratic waves.
I clicked my throat and flashed a sneer; she is so stubborn.
Having enough of her defiance, I knelt one foot and I firmly held both her sides to make her pay attention and listen carefully. Considering my kneeling position, I am now on par to her height. She looks at me wide-eyed and grimaced, knowing that I was going to set something straight for her.
My face grim, I held her left hand with both my own, I traced the words I have to say with increased pace with both my thumbs. Listen, you've been always staying in the house for too long, not talking to anyone but me. I paused so she can process the words. Then I continued, This thing is not for me, it's for you. Do you understand? I paused again, she lightly nodded. This is only for you to be open to other people again. I know you don't like men but we can slow down. Pause. You're not gonna be left alone, you have someone to be with you. She'll be a girl so it's alright. Pausing, I took a glance at ma'am for a moment before facing back to her. Ma'am Takahashi is a good person. She'll take care of you. I paused, her gaze was downwards, I felt the unwillingness in her being. She was reluctant about it. I added, hoping to lift her spirits. I'll come by at lunch, we can eat together by then.
She looks up at me again, the spirit in her eyes enlightened, her light brown orbs sent a sign that she would like the offer. I was very glad for that. I traced her hand again, my writing was slow and gentle both to communicate and to ease her mind. What is it you should do? I playfully asked, giving a gentle squeeze with the holding hand.
She dazes in thought to remember what it was before we left the house for school, when she recalled she flipped my right hand; palm upwards and she traced with a small digit across my palm.
Be tough.
I nodded; correct! I kissed her forehead, and enclosed her into my arms. She returns the embrace and rests her chin on my shoulder while I tightened the hold. We stayed like this for a while, and when we parted it was time for me to leave.
{….Amping.} Have fun.
Whether or not she heard me, she gave no reaction.
I stood up, we slowly gave away distance. Her hands clung onto each other's forearms slowly slipping towards the hand, then….we finally let go. She is now introduced to her first second of truly being 'outside'; no longer in my presence.
I stood still only for a moment before I faced ma'am and deeply bowed with a fist to my chest. "….Ma'am Takahashi, thank you so much for accepting my request. It means very much to me." I formally thanked her, my voice was hollow but my action and words bear all of my sincerity in every word. I really am grateful for her to do something for my sister.
Ma'am smiles and nods, "Anytime…..um…" She trails off, I realized that I have not told her my name. I never intended to at the first but considering that she did accept my request, why not? I am grateful to her after all.
"….My name is Shimuya Rino, I will come by once in a while for check-ups. And it was very fortunate for me to meet you." I said, refusing the use of the scripted basic Japanese greet line and instead use words that honestly meant how I feel.
Ma'am raised her eyebrows in surprised, unsure how to react with my choice of words but she simply says, "It is nice to meet you, too."
I turned my attention to Meiko, she stares back at me. Her expression was nervous but deep in her eyes I see trust and a growing determination in them. Whatever happens, I am certain she will be fine.
I nodded my head at her, a gesture for the bunso that it was time for me to go.
I did not see any feared eyes or a progressively growing pang of paranoia on her face, her expression neither changed nor faltered, she simply nodded and waved her hand goodbye for me.
My heart grew warm over her unspoken farewell as well as her brave development. I turn on my heels and I began walking for the entrance for my leave.
Well, F-Class, time for me to become your first ever student to step on your stupid, disgusting floors.
I pulled on the handles, opening the door and froze on my steps. Taking a last glance on her, she raised her hand, stuck out her thumb, index finger and pinky finger and waves exactly as one would do to a departing loved one.
I sighed and my heart grew even warmer as I instantly recognized the sign language. I performed the same hand gesture, only my hand twisting side to side rather than waving it.
^I love you too, Meiko.^
I silently thought; hoping she would hear it clearly in her own thoughts.
I faced Ma'am once again and spoke with a drone voice.
"Maayong buntag, Ma'am."
Without any intention to hear her response, I finally closed the door on my exit.
….….….
I cannot believe the irony of what just happened. I would have snickered, but my personality was far too different to try.
The homeroom teacher of A-Class, who is probably the most intelligent teacher, had just missed a small detail.
My 'sister' and I do not have the same last name.