A Boy at a Girls School

I don’t want to be here.

That was the first thought that hit me as I stood in front of the school. It was yet another new school for me to attend and do what I needed to do. It sucked but I really didn’t have much choice. Ever since my first year in High School three years ago, it had been the same thing over and over again.

I really wished Mister Takahashi hadn’t found me and I definitely wish my parents had put their foot and stopped the madness. Nope. “You are brilliant, Remington. Think of all the good you could do for your fellow students.” That’s not what I would call it. I would call it manipulation.

Oh and that horrible name my parents gave me. Pretentious.

I shook my head trying to clear the thoughts that raged through me and gripped my transfer folder tightly. Every new year was the same thing. Shock, suspicion, and then trying to blend in without attracting attention, especially when I had to get to work.

What didn’t help was the fact that I did not look Japanese. My parents were expats who lived in Japan for most of their adult lives. My mother was English, and my father was American. Everyone assumed I was a foreign student, even though I was born here and learned flawless Japanese along with English. My English was actually rusty since my parents preferred Japanese.

I looked up from the cobblestone walkway in front of me to the tall wrought iron fence that barred my way. I could see the tall brick building that sprawled across the large hundred acre lot and sighed again. This was Sakura Ame Academy for Gifted Women. An all girls school.

I am not a girl.

Gripping the paperwork tighter causing my fingers to almost punch through the yellow manila paper, I pushed through the gate and walked towards the front entrance that was a few dozen yards ahead. The large double automatic doors framed in the stone were hard to miss, especially the large golden seal of the school above it embedded in the brick work. The stone steps were so polished that they caught the sunlight. I wondered if it would blind people if the sun hit it right.

It was only three steps but those three steps felt like forever. Just my initial research told me that the plan would need to be careful. I don’t understand what Mister Takahashi was thinking. The only reason this works is because I can hide. I’m the only boy here. How am I supposed to pull this off?

My mind raced as the sliding doors opened. The place felt exquisite, like what you would expect a private school that catered to the children of the rich and famous would be. The marble floor, the lockers that had their own digital keypads instead of tumblers and each door made of beautifully polished oak. To my eyes and nose though, I could see things that they were trying to hide. Some of the paint peeling the edges, the white walls not as bright as they should and just the slightest sent of mold somewhere.

Mister Takahashi was right. This place was living on borrowed time.

“Can I help you?”

I jumped as someone spoke behind me. I had walked a few yards in trying to find the Principle’s Office when a woman’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. I spun around probably looking startled and saw a woman wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans staring at me. Her brown eyes seemed to be boring into me, a light behind them that caught me by surprise. Thank god she startled me. It allowed me to play into ‘the dumb, new student’ act that I would need.

“Uh…hi,” I said trying to remember what I was going to say. Maybe the act was a bit too good. “My name is Remington Sparks.” I held out the folder. “I’m a transfer…?”

She looked me once over and a smirk came to her face. “You got the wrong equipment to be at this school, Mister Sparks.” The teacher emphasized the word mister to make a point. Then, to my surprise, she got a faraway look for a moment. I heard her repeat my name and then shake herself out of it.

“I got papers.” I offered.

“I bet you do.” She said with a sigh. “Come with me.”

Well, that was easy. I was sure I would have had to do more to convince her. She led me through the empty hallways and I peered through the windows of the classes and saw a lot of the students hard at work. He made eye contact with a few of the girls who seemed shocked to see a boy walking through their halls.

I do not know how it was possible but when we past through the faculty door, the place gotten even more posh. The thick, crimson shag carpet, the light fixtures that resembled old scones and just the feeling of luxury that was almost suffocating. An older man looked up from his desk, his black hair losing out to the gray that was replacing it. His thin, pencil moustache twitched in irritation.

“What is this, Hiyashi-san?”

I recognized the name from reading through the newsletters over the last few years and the staff directory. Hiyashi Rika, seven years at the school, taught a few classes and was the Club Advisor.

“Transfer.”

The man’s eyes narrowed even further. “I’m not in the mood for any jokes. Take this boy and remove him from the premise.”

I winced at the dismissive and angry tone but Hiyashi did not even flinch. She took my papers, flipped through them and then unceremoniously threw them on his desk.

“Transfer papers. He’s here at the specific request of the Takahashi Group.”

Takahashi Group. The third largest business conglomerate in Japan that built everything from cellphones to robotics and robo taxis. It was also one of the largest donors to the school.

The older man took the papers, read them, and then appeared to read them again. He stood and without saying another word, marched to an oak double door, knocked on it and vanished inside when summoned.

“That’s Watanabe Akira,” Hiyashi said with a sigh. “Vice Principle. Loyal to Principle Satoshi to a fault. Not a good avenue.”

I looked at Hiyashi a bit confused as to why she was telling me this. There was a gleam in her eye as she exhaustedly pulled out a cigarette pack, fished around in it, decided against it and put it back into her pocket.

I stood there trying to look confused and nervous, even though my brain was running through all sorts of scenarios or situations I could find myself in. Again, from the staff page, I knew that Watanabe was talking to Satoshi Suzu, the principle of Sakura Ame Academy and also had a prestigious career as a idol, followed by a stint in politics by being an Ambassador’s wife and now ran the school. I couldn’t find any evidence on how well she was running it as everything was wrapped up in rich person speak, obfuscated and hidden as much as possible.

"Hey!”

I woke up out of my thoughts realizing that I was being nudged and the vice principle had returned. His expression hadn’t improved but he was standing aside to allow me into the inner office. Hiyashi led the way with me following.

Behind the desk was Principle Satoshi, back straight, dark eyes focused on me like lasers, and her graying hair perfectly kept with a gold pin holding the bun together. I gave a bow to the Principle and held out my paperwork that the teacher Hiyashi had given back to me.

“Good afternoon. I am Remington Sparks. I am transferring to this school.”

Principle Satoshi took the paperwork, opened it and stared at it. Though her face looked like there was no reaction, I could see the shift of her eyebrow and the small movement at the corner of her mouth. She was not happy with it.

“Do you realize how irregular this is?” she demanded, her voice like ice. “We are a school for women. You are not a woman.”

I remained silent. Every Principle liked to monologue, and I doubted she was any different.

“Sakura Ame Academy for Gifted Women was built to give women a chance to succeed in this life and the thought of allowing a man goes against everything it stands for. I don’t know who thought this would be a good joke but I am not happy.”

I continued to remain quiet. There wasn’t anything I could do with this and I had warned my benefactor that this could be a problem.

“So, do you want me to call his sponsor and tell him you’re refusing his placement?”

Principle Satoshi face twisted in disgust. “Yes. Tell him that I cannot accept the transfer.”

It took gritting my teeth to keep from saying something. This was the most logical response without more input. I could easily manipulate the situation but I really did not want to be here.

“Fine, I’ll give Takahashi Ren a call and let him know you personally refused his request.”

I winced and turned my head enough to look at Hiyashi. She did exactly what I was trying to avoid doing. It was almost like she read my mind.

“Takahashi Ren. He’s personal sponsor isn’t…” Satoshi started, her eyes narrowing but her voice faltering.

“Yeah,” Hiyashi responded pointing at the paperwork. “I read it a few minutes ago. Mister Sparks here is a personal sponsor from the next in line of the Takahashi Group and our second most prolific donor. There is a personal letter of recommendation and request in there. I’d be happy to let him know you aren’t interested in his protege.”

Hiyashi reached for the paperwork while pulling out her smart phone but Principle Satoshi slammed her hand down on the manila envelope.

“Unnecessary. If Takahashi-sama believes that Mister Sparks here needs to come to an all girl’s school, then we can sort something out.”

“You can always make some calls to make sure we’re all on the same page?”

“I know how to do my job, Hiyashi-san.”

Satoshi sat back down, took out her reading glasses and shooed him towards the door as if he was a pet to be dismissed. “Give him the run down of expectations. I think there is an empty room being renovated in the East Wing. We can keep him there until we confirm how long he’s actually staying. I'll let the student president know.”

The teacher did not wait any longer. Hiyashi turned on her heel and made her way towards the door while I followed. This was the first time that I felt as if the opening gambit of my job had been run by someone else. Hiyashi did not look at me as she led me through the hall toward some destination but she had gone out of her way to get the principle to let me stay. She used the tactic I would have done if I wanted to. Put her in a position of choosing between her pride and her wealthy position.

“Hiyashi-sensei,” I started but she waved me to be silent. She finally brought me into an empty school room where there was a wooden table and a few chairs. The woman made sure the door was closed, sat down and pulled out a ciggerette and lit up. I looked at it with surprise.

“It’s a bad habit,” she said between a puff. “I’d avoid it.”

“I...I don’t know why I am here. Are we waiting for someone to do orientation?” I asked working to keep my innocent student act.

She waved her hand cause the trail of smoke to wrap around and dance like a loose bracelet.

“I expected you to fight a bit harder to stay,” she said.

“I don’t understand.”

That gleam came back to her eyes as she took another drag on the death stick.

“Oh, I know who you are, Mister Sparks. I believe the school legends calls you 'The Adjudicator'.”

Well. Shit.