"Class, today I'm going to assign you a poem." Cue the groans. "But, don't think that I'm going to stop there. You guys won't be reading one this time. You'll be writing one instead."
And drop the silence. Eventually, one student squeaked and everyone heard his (that's right, his) head hit his desk. Their teacher sighed. Really… kids these days were scared of just about everything in this class.
The teacher coughed. "Moving on, I want to explain something. This assignment is going to be a little special." Some eyebrows rose at that, and the class waited for her to continue. So she did.
A smile graced her face. "You can write about anything you want."
One hazel eye peaked open, and a yawn was heard as a certain student rose from his desk.
She was pleasantly surprised when the best student in the class happened to ask a question, because quite frankly, she was tired of having him not ask any at all. She knew he had lived in America and had to be pretty fluent, given his scores and accent, but she sometimes wished he spoke up more. She wondered what he was going to say.
"Anything?" he asked out loud, in his smooth, quick English. She blinked and almost missed what he said.
"Er… Yes."
He smirked and put his head back down, hiding his actual grin behind the safety of his arms. She sighed. She should have known that was all he was willing to say.
"Ja," he said as he dropped his work onto her desk, immediately leaving her office after he was done. She snatched it up immediately, hoping to find at least one hidden gem among the pile of failures. She knew he couldn't fail, but she sincerely hoped had hadn't skimped out on this assignment, considering the fact that he had actually gotten up to ask a question.
She took a deep breath and looked down. Her eyes widened and her face scrunched up in thought.
Your eyes are not rubies; your hair is not gold,
But whatever the case, I adore you still.
A rich, dark chestnut colors them both,
This deep, simple hue, so simple one might scoff
And push it off as plain. Yet I think not;
No, this is not the case.
They marry with your soft features;
An image I can only hope to describe.
Your gentle touch and smile
Can melt even the harshest ice;
Slowly but surely, you warm this world.
Each laugh, so shy and innocent,
Holds a treasure that none can weigh.
Every breath you take,
Is another you've stolen from me.
Though you're clumsy,
You seem to tightly clutch my eyes.
They won't leave your naïve face,
They refuse to forget your form.
Mesmerized, they memorize,
Your movements, like a picture,
A painting to be adored. What's more,
I don't think you know just yet,
But you will, soon;
Just wait for me. I'm coming for you.
The teacher's eyebrows didn't just rise; they almost shot off her head. She had to use several dictionaries and even Google to fully translate and understand every word. Her heart felt pangs of joy (and also some of sadness; after all, she was the teacher… Hmph! She grumbled internally). This was beyond what she expected.
After all… who thought Echizen Ryouma was a hidden romantic?
