Chapter 2: Heart Over Mind
The second week.
Fuji's teaching methods were bizarre. To put it mildly. For one thing, they were out of the classroom half the time for lectures, usually trooping over to some open spot in the college grounds. Fuji claimed that the classroom was too stifling, and leeched the creativity out of students, hence their frequent occupation of the soccer field or one of the many gardens in the university. The classroom was only used if Fuji had a visual presentation to accompany his lectures. This time, they were in the garden near the giant fountain.
Fuji also asked his students NOT to take notes while he spoke. He provided handouts instead, and supplemented recordings of his lectures in WAV format in the university website.
The last thing, probably the most normal of all, but unusual in context nonetheless, was that Fuji's lectures were hardly different from the storytelling activities one would usually find in grade school. Fuji didn't enumerate concepts and explain what they were or how they worked. Rather, Fuji picked out real life experiences from his or other people's lives and applied textbook concepts as he told stories.
"Telling stories is the best way to teach," Fuji declared from his carefully balanced seat on the fountain side. "Look at the central figures of religion today. The concept of education wasn't in existence then, but people still learned. There wasn't a University of Jesus Christ, or Mohammed Islamic Colleges or Siddharta Gautama's Center for Enlightenment. Those three started out talking and telling stories to crowds, and now, millions of people follow their lead."
Ryoma was sorely tempted to retort something along the lines of "Are you applying to be the next Jesus Christ then?" but he had thankfully grown out of that reflex and held his tongue. Whether he liked it or not, Fuji had the upper hand as his professor, and provoking him would be all sorts of bad.
He picked on a blade of grass instead, one ear listening to Fuji, the other one listening to the voices at war inside his head.
The very reality that he was under the former tennis tensai's tutelage was undeniable proof that fate had a sick sense of humor. Ryoma had practically remade his life, making it as Fuji-free as possible, and on his third year of college, the toughest of all years (if the tenfold increase of Momoshiro's vocabulary of expletives was any indication) Fuji totally blindsided him by posing as his professor.
In any other case, Ryoma would have sooner dropped the course than spend an entire semester being subjected to Fuji's control. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to be delayed three units if he wanted to graduate on time.
It was always the same. Fuji always watched him, unnerved him with that cryptic gaze, but always from a safe distance. Apart from watching, he did nothing else. Fuji never made any forward advances. And to add even more oddity to the situation, Fuji only reminded Ryoma of his 'romantic' intentions every time he left for the next phase of life.
He didn't hate Fuji, oh no, far from it really. Fuji just did too much watching and too little conveying. Ryoma, despite appearances, was big on visceral needs and Fuji had never given him that, save those three times.
Thrice in eight years wasn't something Ryoma would classify as 'relationship' potential. So he came to the conclusion that Fuji had never taken him seriously.
Which, understandably enough, hurt a great bloody deal, so Ryoma felt that his rejections of the older boy were justified.
He was, after all, simply returning the favor.
He tried to pull himself back to the present. For the past twenty minutes, Fuji was telling a tale about the instincts of animals and other psycho stuff Ryoma couldn't care less about. Ryoma, for the most part, was too absorbed in his thoughts to listen but he took note of specific concepts in case Fuji decided to pick on him later.
"What can we learn from predators, and lift from birds?" Fuji spoke with implicit passion, silken voice defied only by deaf ears. "In impulse there is truth. The truest things bypass all mental processes, stemming from pure instinct. The body is always honest, more honest than the mind. Stop sniggering Ken, this is a perfectly wholesome matter."
A wave of badly suppressed snickers immediately greeted his words, with 'Ken' laughing the hardest. Ryoma rolled his eyes at the immaturity of it all, and continued de-grassing the ground.
"Impulse. Undivided trust in your gut. Don't stop. Don't think. Just do it," Fuji reiterated, as he stepped away from the fountain and walked around. "It's not always the right course of action but impulse never lies. Isn't that right…" He paused before rounding on a specific student.
"….Echizen?"
Startled, Ryoma straightened his back, dropping the recently pulled blades of grass, and noticed Fuji's brown suede loafers, directly in front of the small pile of grass he'd created.
Ryoma lifted his head as inconspicuously as possible. "Yes, sensei," he muttered under his breath, hoping that Fuji wouldn't be sadistic enough to ask him to answer anything else.
"Ah." Fuji tilted his head inquisitively at him. "And how would you understand it?"
Ryoma reminded himself never to hope for anything again. Resisting the urge to stab his newly sharpened pencil into Fuji's foot, he squared his shoulders and looked Fuji straight in the eye, grabbing bits and pieces of data from his selective memory banks. "Impulse never lies because the body doesn't think," he started slowly, drawing out his syllables to stall for time.
That was a good start wasn't it? Fuji was still looking at him expectantly, but there were the beginnings of a smile on his face. Feeling a bit more confident, Ryoma plowed on, this time not pausing to think anymore. "Rather, the body feels, and feelings don't lie," he continued. "The cliché of mind over heart, while a very noble concept, does not exist. The mind's will does not necessitate a change of heart. Even if we pour all our mental energies into believing something that is not what it is, in the end, we will ultimately need to come to terms with the reality that we can't change."
Fuji was sporting a full-blown, open-eyed smile now. That in itself was not unusual, but there was a strange quality to it that set Ryoma off-kilter. It wasn't cryptically disturbing, nor promising devious behavior in the near future as was the usual suspects in Fuji's rich list of ambiguous body language. Rather, it was oddly calm and laced with the mildest trace of what seemed to be… satisfaction. Whatever it was, Ryoma definitely didn't like it.
"Those are very good insights, Echizen," Fuji commended, nodding approvingly, blue eyes piercing Ryoma's amber ones. "So in essence, you are claiming that the heart is stronger than the mind?"
Ryoma answered cautiously, wary of the way Fuji rephrased his answer. "In terms of truth and honesty, yes."
Fuji's smile grew the tiniest bit wider, and his voice became very soft. "Thank you Echizen. That's just the answer I was looking for."
By the time Ryoma realized what Fuji meant, Fuji had already looked away.
tbc