My fingers drummed restlessly on the desk I sat on as I waited for the last of my classmates to finish whatever business they had with the botany professor. The small group of girls giggled and preened like birds in front of a mirror as they each vied for the handsome professor's attention.
Okay, maybe that wasn't a very nice thing to think about my classmates. Actually, I really had nothing against those girls but right now they were just wasting the professor's time. And, by extension, my time.
Minamino's voice was calm and smooth as he politely reminded the girls that they had somewhere else to be. They finally left, wishing him cheerful farewells in their high, far-too-sweet voices. I let out a sigh of relief and slid off the desk. The last girl disappeared through the door as my shoes hit the floor.
Minamino's eyes, as green as the leaves of the potted bonsai plant on his desk, flicked to me as I approached, my bag slung over my shoulder and a folder clutched nervously in my clammy hands.
"Good afternoon, Mizuki-san," he said as I stopped before his desk. I hesitantly held out the folder and he took it from me. "This is the report from last week?" he asked.
"Yes, Minamino-sensei." My mouth was dry. "I am sorry it's late. Thank you for letting me hand it in anyway." I couldn't meet his eyes. This class mattered to me. More than any of the other classes I was taking. I'd already been forced to drop two of my other classes because I simply couldn't keep up, but I really wanted to pass this class. I needed to pass this class.
Minamino slipped his wire-rimmed glasses onto his nose and opened the folder. He began to flick through the pages of neatly-typed text. I shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot, wondering if I should excuse myself.
Just as I was about to do so, Minamino looked up, closing the folder as he did so. "You've put a lot of effort into this," he said. He removed his glasses and folded them, setting them on his desk beside the folder.
I was unsure what to make of that statement. Did that mean I had done well or not? It was impossible to guess.
He was right that I had put a lot of effort in. I could only hope that would make up for the report being so late.
"Mizuki-san." Minamino's voice had deepened slightly, making my shoulders tense. His eyes had narrowed slightly, too. Both of those things were not good signs and I found myself swallowing nervously. "I understand your situation," he said. His eyes softened for just a moment before hardening again, and I just knew that a 'but' was coming. I began to fiddle with the strap of my bag nervously.
"But I cannot keep making allowances for you," he continued.
And there it was. Unsurprising, but nonetheless, unwelcome. Would I be forced to drop this class as well?
"You've missed several lessons, and even when you are here, you have difficulty staying awake," Minamino said. "Your last two assignments have been late."
"I'm sorry, sir," I said helplessly. What else could I say? I was doing my best, which obviously wasn't good enough.
"You've been keeping up so far, which is quite admirable," Minamino continued, "but sooner or later, you will fall behind."
"I won't." The denial flew from my lips. It was more of a prayer than a statement, though. Deep down, I knew he was right, but I didn't want to admit it.
Minamino shook his head, a pitying smile forming on his lips. "No," he said gently. "You most certainly will, if things continue as they are."
"Are you saying that there's no possible chance I can pass?" I asked. The words tasted bitter on my tongue. What I really wanted to ask was whether he thought that I should drop the class altogether, but I couldn't bring myself to say that.
Minamino leaned back in his chair and regarded me with an unreadable expression. "No," he said.
"I don't understand," I said helplessly. He was obviously going somewhere with this conversation but I was lost in the fog.
"I have a proposal for you," he said.
I waited with bated breath. My entire future rested on whatever Minamino said next. If I failed this class, I might lose the chance of achieving my dream. I'd spend the rest of my life working a minimum wage job that I really didn't enjoy at all.
Like my brother. The thought was an uncomfortable one. Without some kind of degree, my choices would be as limited as his were.
"Two tutorial sessions with me a week," Minamino said with finality. "One of those sessions will be with several of my other students, and one will be with just me."
"Two afternoons a week?" I asked uncertainly. My mind raced, trying to slot them into my already full schedule. It would mean that I would lose hours at work. Could I still make the rent payment if I lost that time?
"Yes," Minamino said, his voice cutting into my thoughts like a knife through butter. "This is non-negotiable. If you miss any sessions, I expect you to have an excellent reason. And you will make them up promptly."
Wow. He sure wasn't going to make this easy for me. In truth, this didn't surprise me. Minamino was one of the most popular teachers in the university, primarily because of his young and handsome appearance. He had long red hair, which was now tied back in a low ponytail, with his bangs framing his face, and vibrant green eyes. I had once overheard a hilarious conversation among my peers as they compared Minamino's eyes to various things. My favourite had been when one of the boys had interjected with the suggestion of a green tree frog. It was a surprisingly accurate comparison, if an unflattering one. The conversation had deteriorated rapidly from there. Stifling my laughter at that point had been extremely difficult.
But Minamino was also one of the strictest teachers in the university. His class was not a cake-walk by any stretch of the imagination. He was calm and polite, friendly even, but his seemingly easygoing manner hid a heart made of steel. Once he set his mind on something, absolutely nothing would deter him.
He was giving me a chance to pass his class. But he was not going to make it easy for me, despite my situation. It really had been wishful thinking, to expect any sympathy from him.
"Make no mistake, Mizuki-san," Minamino said, "You will earn your grade, I promise you. Provided you put the work in. Do we have a deal?"
He watched me with one red eyebrow raised expectantly. Idly, he tapped his pen on the cover of my assignment as he waited for my answer.
"Which afternoons?" I asked, resigned. I had to try to make it work. There really was no other option.
"Tuesday and Friday," he said. "Immediately after the last class of the day. Tuesday's session will be with some of my other students and will last an hour. Friday's session will be with me and will last an hour and a half."
An hour and a half? On Friday? Shit. Fridays were worth extra money for me. If I had to stay at the university for an extra hour and a half, I would never be able to make my shift on time. Or see…
I cut that thought off before it could take shape. I had to focus on the present situation right now.
Minamino's eyes were hard, glittering emeralds, and I knew that he would not compromise. I finally nodded. "I think I can manage that," I said.
Minamino frowned. "You will manage it," he said firmly.
"Okay," I said, trying to inject some resolve into my voice as I tried to figure out how I could get some extra hours in on Saturday. Would my boss let me do half a shift on Friday? Could I swap some hours with one of my colleagues? No, that was unlikely. My fellow employees liked the extra pay on weekends as much as I did.
Maybe I could get a second job? My current bosses would be unaware of that and, therefore, could not harass me about working too hard. I wished that they were a little less kind. A little less concerned for my health. They meant well, but their kindness was an impediment for me right now.
"Is there anything else you would like to discuss with me?" Minamino asked.
"Um, no," I said.
"You are dismissed," he said. "Have a nice afternoon, Mizuki-san."
"Thank you, Minamino-sensei." I turned away, trudging towards the door. Just as I reached it, Minamino called my name. I turned to face him.
"How is your brother?" he asked. He held his glasses now, playing with them idly between his long fingers.
"The same," I said quietly. It was the answer I had been giving for the last two months. Every time I said those words, a knife twisted in my gut. The same. No worse, no better.
Minamino set his glasses down on his desk and rose. "A moment," he said quietly.
I waited as he strode to the back of the classroom. On a long table at the back of the room was a row of plants and colourful flowers. After retrieving a pair of scissors from a shelf, Minamino moved along the table. When he reached the end, he stopped. His back blocked my view as he did something with the flowers before him. When he turned, he was holding a bouquet of brightly-coloured sunflowers.
He strode towards me and held out the newspaper-wrapped bouquet. "Something to brighten the room up," he said.
I took them with numb fingers. "Thanks," I said. He gave a small nod before returning to his desk. I stepped into the hall, joining the throng of students milling about as I closed the door behind me. Maybe the professor had a heart after all.
Maybe it was covered in thorns, like the stems of his roses. The thought made me smile.