Our Story
By Kitara Lira
Chapter Two: A Step Beyond
By the time we first met I had already been in Kyoto for close to two and a half years. I had managed to steal enough things to provide myself with a roof above my head, three meals every day and a motorcycle for transport. It had been an impulse purchase, but it eventually led way to a hobby in my spare time and then a real job. Not something where I had to live off the earnings of stolen goods, but a decent, well laid out job. At first I was just a garage junkie. I ran the errands. It paid poorly, so poorly that thievery was still a necessity in order to survive. But eventually I worked my way up in the ranks. Within six months I knew almost as much as the owner of the shop knew about bikes and my salary rivalled that of individuals who had been working for nearly fifteen years. I was efficient, motivated, and hard working. It bothered most of the guys at the shop that a child knew more then they did, however my boss was a kind man and did well to keep their hateful gazes from me, not to say I still did not feel them.
Takishi, my boss, he noticed that I was lacking most of my formal education. Though he did not want to lose my help at the shop, he insisted that I take to some sort of formal classes. After all, if I ever wanted to open my own shop one day I would need a business degree, which only came after years of studying. I was hesitant at first, the only reason I worked was because it paid well – enough to cover living and my expensive "research". Every month I pooled more than half of my earnings simply into gathering more information; information that would slowly lead me closer and closer to my mother's killer. School had never been a thought. In fact nothing other than exacting my revenge had been even considered.
I'm sure he noticed my hesitance, which might have been why he then offered to be my private tutor. Apparently he had received a degree in teaching but had only done so to please his parents. Now with his parents departed from this world, he had allowed himself the pleasure of doing something he was passionate about. Something he truly loved. As he spoke I saw something in his eyes that I hadn't seen in quite some time: concern. Genuine concern. The same look my mother would adorn whenever I came in covered in cuts and scraps when I had once again fallen from the tall oak tree or when I caught another cold.
So I accepted and teaching began almost immediately. I had much to catch up on as I had missed quite a few years, one to being in the hospital and nearly three to my search for my mother's killer (not that he knew that). Days were spent working from the crack of dawn until just after mid-noon. Then from mid-noon to dusk was the designated time of learning and finally from dusk to past midnight was spent searching for my mother's murderer.
The vicious cycle continued for close to six months until a break was finally provided to me. All information trails had gone cold, with no new leads to be found and it remained cold for about four months. Four months which I dedicated to studying. In ten months, nearly the length of a normal school year, I had managed to cover all the material I had missed. Believe it or not I was not a dumb individual. As I said earlier, I am a quick learner. I mastered English, German and Italian merely for something to do. So on my seventeenth birthday Takishi provided me with the greatest gift one could offer: a chance at a new life. In the envelope he handed me was all the documents I would need to begin in April at one of Kyoto's most prestigious High Schools.
Apparently the exams I had taken had been old replications of previous entrance exams and though not all my qualifications were there, the school had been willing to accept me. Of course there was one condition. If I were to allow any of my grades to fall below what was the upper average I would automatically be removed. The upper average was held at a steady near perfection grade. At first I was about to decline, the stakes were too high and who knew what Takishi had sacrificed so that I was even allowed the chance. I claimed to be unable to be unable to pay the fees (not a lie, it was truly expensive) and that if he were to offer any of his money I would turn it down without a second thought, there were many other schools, I could simply attend one of those. Takishi refused. There was a scholarship, to which he already had the forms. It was for students in my case who did not have the funding, but had the ability. The chances were small, but he seemed so excited. Perhaps it was because he did not have a family and I had become like the daughter he would never have. Or perhaps it was because he felt this was just the right thing to do. Whatever his reasoning was, I am happy he did. If he hadn't, I would have never met you.
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Out of the thousand of applicants, I was the one to receive the scholarship. I had not written about my sob story of life; simply my experiences. How by being independent at a young age had allowed myself to grow and mature in ways that many would not think possible. I was not asking for sympathy, nor did I want it. My basis for writing the paper was not for myself, but for Takishi. He had pushed me so far that my revenge seemed like a far fetched things. He had sacrificed for me simple things; things that no one had dared to sacrifice for me after my mother's death. He had guided me, taught me, nurtured me, like the father I had never had. And it was for him that I sought entrance to this grand school, not for myself. It was for him that I even attempted to earn my High School credentials; not for me. I suppose to them they see it as the selfless act, the hero in the shadows, I simply see it as life. My life. I was no hero; nor am I one now. I had done things that heroes to not do, I had stolen from innocent individuals, and I had hurt as a means to achieve a goal. I was no hero. However I accept the scholarship, much to Takishi's relief and in April I attended the school that would ultimately change my life.
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