The next day Mitarai watched as, one by one, the others were called up to hand in their assignments. He wondered if the teacher disapproved of how parents treated their children… or was he a parent as well? Maybe single adults didn't have problems…

"Mitarai, Kiyoshi."

Mitarai stood and calmly offered his paper. There was nothing to worry about. The memories were safe. He wouldn't get in trouble.

He failed. How did he fail the assignment? His translation couldn't be off, he'd studied for hours. Mitarai quietly placed his paper facedown on his desk and listened to the reactions of his classmates. Some were happy; one girl sounded extremely relieved as she made a remark of how she'd be allowed to buy something. Reward system. A boy exclaimed about how his dad was going to kill him. Mitarai felt a pang of sympathy, though not too much. This was one of his regular tormentors. He could deal with a taste of the punishment he constantly gave out.

"Mitarai-san, could I speak with after class?"

Mitarai sighed but nodded. "Hai, sensei." Another teacher giving him the "are you okay?" lecture. He didn't need it. He was just behind on some chores at home, and home took priority. He ignored the quiet laughter as he took out his supplies for class and bent determinedly over his work.

Mitarai internally sighed for at least the third time, keeping his face as attentive and his posture as straight as possible. Didn't teachers understand that these talks didn't do anything? Sometimes home life simply got in the way. Sometimes you were forced to stay up until all hours of the morning, waiting for your mother to come home so you'd know she was still alive…

After a few more minutes his teacher let him go. Mitarai slung his bag over his shoulder and headed towards the cafeteria. He was late for lunch, but he didn't care. His mother never gave him any money, so he never ate. He would just sit in an empty corner, do his homework, and hope the other boys wouldn't come over and bother him.

It happened all the time, the bullying, and Mitarai knew he couldn't change it. It happened because he was different. Did it make them feel powerful? Was it the only sense of control they could have outside their homes?

"Aw, little Kiyoshi sitting by himself again?"

Mitarai grit his teeth and said nothing, beginning another problem in his workbook. He wasn't in the mood for this. Normal routine or not, sometimes he wished the world would just give him a break.

Tsume, the boy who had made the remark, growled at the lack of reaction. "What's wrong with you? You're acting dead today."

Mitarai continued to ignore him. He'd entertained the notion of standing up for himself before, but that always ended with his bag being stolen, his schoolwork destroyed, and himself on the floor held down while they all laughed. Fighting back was futile… though being passive never did any good, either.

"Say something, damn it! I asked you a question!"

Mitarai winced but continued to work quietly. He didn't remember what the question was, but he couldn't focus on that now. He had to plan what he would say to his mother when she saw his failing grade. Would she even have to know? Maybe he could hide-

A slap to his face brought his mind to a halt. Slowly he came back to the present, raised a hand to his cheek in disbelief. Silence fell over their half of the cafeteria as heads turned to look in their direction.

Mitarai swallowed hard, trying to contain his trembling. He kept his eyes lowered, his breath slow and controlled. They couldn't do anything with teachers around. They couldn't, they couldn't…

"Stupid sissy. You act like a girl. A stupid, foreign girl."

The insults were childish but they stung all the same, even more so when he realized that the entire cafeteria was listening in. His eyes were threatening to water, but he held the tears back. He lowered his hand, picked up his things and left, derisive laughter ringing in his ears. He entered the boys' room, locked himself in a stall, and began to cry.