Haruka rarely showed up to his morning class. It was held on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and was right after morning practice. He often found it difficult to tear himself away from the pool, and instead preferred to play hooky by lingering in the water.
He barely even knew what the class was. Upon entering the last semester of his third year, the registration counselor had pointed out that he still needed a Humanities course to fulfill his degree requirements. Most biology majors got the unwanted courses out of the way during their freshman year, but Haruka just hadn't cared. He didn't particularly care about biology either, but a teacher back in high school had pointed out that he could do a focus in marine biology. Which didn't sound so bad.
But because Haruka was disinclined to put any effort into registering for classes until the last minute, he had been left with only one eligible Humanities course to choose from. It was the only one that fit into the rest of his schedule and still had seats open. Some dinky little class in the Religious & Cultural Studies department.
He was only in class this morning because, two weeks earlier, the professor had pulled him aside after one of his rare appearances to class.
"Mr. Nanase, are you aware that attendance counts for part of your grade?" she had demanded.
He told her that he had been unaware.
"Oh?" she said, irritated by his lack of concern. "Then are you also unaware that a prerequisite to your swimming scholarship is that you pass all your classes?"
This got his attention.
"And," she continued, "Let me remind you that all students are required to keep up their grades to be eligible for a sport or extracurricular activity. Do you understand?"
He gazed at the ground and nodded slowly. "I understand."
Any questions, Mr. Nanase?"
"Yes." He looked back up. "What is this class again?"
So here he was in class. He struggled again to remember what it was called. Something with far too many words. He pondered for a moment until it came to him. The Bible as Literature. Wait, that didn't seem right. Wasn't it, Intro to the New Testament? It must be a combination of the two. The Bible as Literature: Intro to the New Testament. Yes, that was it. Far too many words indeed. Small wonder it was harder to remember than, say, Biology 101.
His attention turned to the seat in front of him where Christine was sitting. Before the start of class, the girl had greeted him with a polite "Hey Haruka," as she had every Tuesday and Thursday since their awkward encounter two weeks ago. He never responded back, but by the second week he deigned to give her a nod of acknowledgment in return. Rather monumental, from him at least.
He found it curious that she greeted him at all, after such an embarrassing first introduction. One would think that she would ignore his presence and pretend that he didn't exist. After all, that was what he had been prepared to do to her. Not that that would have been any different from how he would have treated her anyway, since that was what he did to everyone.
"Please pick up your graded midterms at the front before you leave," the professor's voice rang out. "Class dismissed!"
Haruka made his way to the front of the classroom, picked up his test, and turned to go. The big red letter at the top of his paper gave him pause though. He stopped and did a double take. The big red letter was an E.
Haruka swiftly did some mental calculations. He had skipped half of the classes so far. This midterm counted for thirty percent of his grade. Another sixty percent would be determined from a final paper and the final exam. If he bombed either one, his scholarship would be pulled. If he failed the class altogether, he would no longer be eligible to be on a sports team. He came to a final conclusive equation: Failing class = No more swimming.
His mind came to a standstill. This class was supposed to be easy. This class was supposed to take no effort. It was one of those classes that you took only to fulfill a general education requirement for your degree. Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be. Haruka should have known better. His English had never been that great (much to his old high school teacher, Miss Miho Amakata's, chagrin). But it was passable. Once he came to university, he had put off taking any class with extensive reading assignments for as long as he could, focusing instead on math and science courses. But he had to take a humanities course eventually. Haruka figured that, after two and a half years in the states, his English reading comprehension would be pretty competent by now. And maybe it would have been…if not for all the thee's and thy's and be not thou this and that.
He had been schooled in the basics of conversational English from a fairly young age. This in no way prepared him for reading 14th century style Old English that had been translated from Greek. Or whatever it was. He had never liked reading in the first place. For the text to be convoluted in such a way that it didn't match up to modern English syntax made it even less appealing. Haruka was never one to put more effort into something than seemed appealing. He had taken one look at an assigned reading and decided to go to swim practice instead. There was always Sparknotes, right?
Unfortunately his lack of consistent attendance caused him to be unaware that, on one of the days that he randomly showed up, it was in fact the scheduled midterm date—and he was not prepared in the least. Well, at least he had showed up on that day at all. That was downright lucky, wasn't it? In characteristic unconcerned fashion, he had breezed through the multiple choice questions and made up answers for the open-ended ones. He ended up turning in his test before anyone else and walking out of class early. (That day the pool got three visits from him, instead of just two.)
The result was that a big, red "E" was now staring him in the face, along with his diminishing hopes and dreams to swim freely. He now realized that this was not one of those classes that took no effort. This was not one of those classes that you could just skip all the time and still pass. And he had no idea what was going on in class…and thus, he was not going to pass.
Haruka had never prayed before, but now he was starting to consider it. The bitter thought occurred to him that if he had ever been the sort of person to pray in the first place, then maybe he would have known enough about the New Testament to at least pass this stupid midterm. Maybe it wasn't too late to start.
He figured that, if there was a God, then this had to be a prayer that He wouldn't pass up. Getting Haruka to pass this class meant getting him to understand enough of the assigned reading—in this case the New Testament, as providence would have it—in order to pass the exam. God's Word would be read, and Haruka would get to swim. It was a win-win, right?
Haruka was a usually a complete cynic. But if water was on the line, he was willing to let his cynicism slide for a bit.
God, thought Haruka, a bit cynically, Please help me pass.
"Are you okay?" a voice said from behind him. A voice that, when it had first spoken to him, had said these same three words. "You look shell-shocked."
Haruka turned to see Christine. She noticed the paper in his hands.
"Huh," she said, surprised. "Wouldn't have thought a scholarship kid would end up with a grade like that."
He bristled. "It's a sports scholarship," he said coldly. "Not an academic scholarship." He vaguely wondered if he had just insulted his own intelligence.
Christine held up her hands. "Sorry," she placated, "I didn't mean it as an insult. I know you're not in class a lot…so you probably just missed a lot of the info that was on the test."
Haruka thought it was charitable of her to ignore the fact that he should have still read the text on his own. But he didn't say so.
"And I know you guys have to practice twice a day," she went on, "Which is pretty crazy. I'd probably go back to sleep after practice, too."
He likewise didn't inform her that he, in fact, just stayed in the pool after practice.
Instead he said, "If I fail this class, I won't get to swim anymore." And then he immediately wondered why he had just said that.
Maybe it was just natural human tendency, in moments of stress, to open up about one's own miseries. Maybe it was because the mere thought of not getting to swim anymore had dried up some of his brain cells, and consequently loosened his tongue. Maybe it was because his brain had shut down, and the only cohesive thought remaining blared through his head like a siren: FAILING CLASS = NO MORE SWIMMING.
Christine stared at him. "So pass," she said simply.
Haruka scowled. The girl reminded him irritatingly of Miss Amakata. When he had Ama-sensei for classical literature in his last year of high school, she had constantly expressed her consternation over his lack of effort in her class. He wondered now if he should have paid more attention to the quotes she used to expound upon. Particularly the ones from the Bible.
"Easy for you to say." He glared at Christine. "I'm not cut out for dense reading."
She glanced at the copy of the Bible that Haruka had tucked under his arm.
"That's the King James Version you have," she declared, pulling out her own copy and holding it up to his face. "I guess you missed the first day of class, when the professor recommended getting contemporary translations for easier reading?"
Haruka stared at her dumbly.
She gave him a look of sympathy. "Here," she said, taking his copy out of his arm and replacing it with her own. "Let's trade. I've got a pretty good grasp on the text already, so I'll be fine with the King James Version."
He held out the new book with an expression of extreme distaste. This turn of events did not solve the root problem.
"I don't like to read," he confessed monotonously. It occurred to him belatedly that he was supposed to have said Thank you instead.
To his surprise, she laughed. "Alright," she said, "I can help you out some time. I guess it doesn't get any easier when English isn't even your first language, right? If you want, I'll go through all the important points that should be on the exam, and summarize any dense parts for you. What do you say?"
Haruka gave her a look wavering between disbelief and distrust.
"Why would you help me?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Consider it recompense for disrupting your nap in the pool the other day," she joked. "But seriously, it looked like a bomb had hit you when you got your test back…and you usually don't look anything less than totally stoic. So I'm guessing that something pretty important to you is at stake. Given the class, I thought it'd be appropriate to act biblically." She smiled, and quoted, "'Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others.'"
Haruka gave her a funny look. She sighed.
"That was from the class text, and it means to help others," she explained. "Which, by the way, happens to be a recurring theme in the New Testament. There's your first tip, so take notes. That verse was from, uh, Galatians, or something." She tapped her chin in thought. "Or is it Philippians? Doesn't matter, we won't be tested on locating verses. This isn't a seminary." She grinned. "So what do you say?"
Haruka hesitated a moment. "We could meet after I get out of practice," he said slowly.
He was beginning to wonder where he would be if he had never learned how to sink.