Chapter 15: The Protagonist and the Talk

“What are you doing here? This place is off-limits for students.”

“I could ask you the same thing…”

“…I’m smoking. And you?”

“…I kinda just wanna cry. Guess I’ll go find another spot…”

“Ah…”

Just as I turned around to leave, I heard a deep sigh behind me. One of those long ones, like it had been stuck in his chest for weeks.

For some reason, I stopped. Something about that sigh caught my attention. I turned back and looked at him more closely.

He was putting out his cigarette against the wooden desk. With his other hand, he rubbed the back of his neck, like he was trying to squeeze out all the built-up tension in his muscles. His face was a mix of frustration and resignation.

“I seriously hate being a teacher…” he muttered. Then he looked up. “Well, whatever. Let’s do this. They’re paying me anyway. What’s wrong with you? You don’t have your usual energy.”

“Eh?”

“God… you’re so slow. I’m asking if you’re okay. It’s not normal to cry in an abandoned building, especially when class is about to start.”

“It’s nothing… really, nothing.”

“Uh-huh. And I make seven figures and don’t have bags under my eyes from staying up all night.”

The teacher exaggeratedly pointed to the dark circles under his eyes. It made me chuckle a little. Just a short laugh, like a faint echo.

“Well, that’s something. A smile. Thought you forgot how to do that.”

“I don’t think… it’s just something I can’t share with anyone. They wouldn’t get it.”

The teacher let out another sigh, even longer this time. Like each word was draining some of his life away.

“Mhm. I see. Something you don’t wanna share ‘cause you’re scared it’ll be used against you, huh? But haven’t you noticed? We already share a secret. I’m not supposed to smoke. So now you’ve got something to keep me in check. Just speak honestly. I’ll listen and maybe even give advice. And you won’t tell anyone I come here to smoke. Deal?”

“…Deal. But only if you give me money too.”

“You! You little—rrgh. That’s what I get for trying to be a good teacher. Fine, just start spilling already.”

I hesitated for a moment. I didn’t really want to. But… I also didn’t want to bottle everything up, not again, not here without my family. So, what’s the harm if I just say what I feel?

What’s the worst that could happen? He tells everyone and I end up even more isolated?

“…I’m alone. Everyone in this world is against me.”

At first, it sounded melodramatic. Like something a teenager would say. But in this case… it wasn’t. God, I wish it was. Reality was harsher: in this world, nobody wanted me.

“Come on, don’t be so hard on yourself. That’s not true—”

“Oh, please, teach! Haven’t you seen how they treat me? The students look at me like I’m garbage. Those psycho girls keep trying to kill me. And the only person I thought could be my friend told me to get lost. And then there’s that damn sys—”

I was about to say “system,” but I bit my tongue.

The teacher looked like he was going to respond, but he stopped himself too. Maybe he realized I had no intention of explaining that last part.

“Mhm… I get it,” he muttered more to himself than to me, pulling out another cigarette. “Life is tough, that’s your complaint, right?”

“…No. I think it’s something deeper than that.”

He massaged his neck again, then pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket, lit it, and leaned back a little against the old desk. Everything he did felt like stalling, giving himself time to think before speaking.

“Nah. No matter what your situation is in this Academy, it’d be the same elsewhere. Even if you weren’t you, even if you were someone else, you’d feel the same way. Let’s try a thought experiment. Imagine you were a noble. You’d be part of the elite, right? Now imagine you go to a regular school full of commoners. What do you think would happen?”

I thought for a few seconds, watching the cigarette smoke drift upward. Somehow, that smoke reminded me of the teacher himself. Bitter, kind of irritating at first, but laid-back enough to be carried away by the slightest breeze.

He’s a noble. If he were in my place, he’d probably do fine, just like the noble in his example. That was my answer.

“I… I guess I’d be the queen. Everyone wou—”

The teacher made a buzzer noise, like a game show sound effect.

“Wrong. You’d be an outcast, just like you say you are now. Maybe a few leeches would cling to you to boost their own status, but overall, same deal. Alone. Even if they treated you like a queen, that would just be another form of isolation. Let’s face it, this world’s pretty cruel.”

I didn’t know what to say. The smoke filled my nose, making me a little dizzy. His words were intoxicating too.

“Loneliness, fear, and rejection. If you ask me, those are very human emotions—whether you’re noble or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“We fear loneliness. That’s why we despise rejection. And we’re terrified of going against the flow, so it’s always easier to agree with the crowd than to hold your own opinion. Take your case, for example. You’re segregated for being a Nen. Most of those people don’t actually care if you are or not. But they don’t wanna be on the rejected side. In other words, they don’t want to be alone. Or suffer.”

“So what, life’s cruel and I should just accept it? That’s, like, super unfair!”

The teacher leaned further back in his chair, making the wood creak like it was on the verge of snapping. In a way, I could sympathize with that poor wood, having to bear all that weight unfairly.

“Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“The word you used. Unfair. You say life’s unfair to you. But why do you think life is supposed to be fair? Or better yet, what does fair even mean to you?”

“W-Well, you know… like, not having life crap on me? Not having to suffe—”

“Ah, I see. So for you, life is fair only if it benefits you. That’s where you’re wrong. Life is neither fair nor unfair. It just is.”

“…I didn’t get any of that.”

“Life is perspectives. Period. For some it’s harsh—a mother who can’t feed her children, a businessman whose company is about to collapse, an employee who doesn’t know how his life will turn upside down. That’s perspective.”

If only he knew what I was forced to do…

“The real question tormenting you should be: what are you doing to overcome it? Like that mother doing whatever she can to feed her kids, that businessman fighting to save his company, that worker out looking for a new job. They keep going, because life has no mercy and no time to wait. So let me ask again: what are you doing?”

“I guess… I’m just doing what I can.”

“And that would be?”

“…Survive?”

“Survive. Interesting choice of words. You survive, but you don’t live. That’s why you suffer.”

“Eh?”

“Take me, for example. My job stresses me out. I hate it. But I do it so I can eat, otherwise I’d die and become a burden to society. So I work. I work to survive. But that’s not living. That’s not dignified.”

“…So then?”

“You didn’t listen, huh? I said I don’t live that way. I live by stopping survival mode. I enjoy little things in my boring life. I rebel against monotony with small pleasures, like this cigarette.”

I stayed silent, processing his words.

“So now I’ll ask you: what are you doing to live and not just survive?”

He was right. Since I got here, all I’ve done is worry about the system. About not dying. I never relaxed. I never… lived.

“From your silence, I’ll assume nothing. Let me tell you, if you keep this up, not only will this Academy torture you, but so will the real world.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Isac didn’t answer right away. He inhaled deeply from his cigarette and then exhaled.

It stank. But for some reason, it didn’t feel as disgusting as before.

Then he opened his eyes, like he’d just had a revelation.

“Tell me, what does someone lost in a dark cave look for?”

“An exit? A light?”

“Exactly. Light and exit. Or in other words, hope. So tell me, what do you prefer? To sit in the dark like a slug or…?”

He stopped, giving me space to finish his sentence. But I didn’t. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say.

“But… there’s no light at the end of the tunnel for me… Not here. I… I’m alone. I can’t do anything…”

“Oh… oh! I get it now.”

Get what? I wondered to myself.

“I see. Fair point. Objectively, from what you’ve told me, you could be labeled: lonely. After all, you say you’re isolated and nobody cares about you. Here, you’re alone. That’s why you do nothing.”

“Wow, you’re suuuper encouraging… huh?”

I repeated myself once.

“But let me tell you a secret, girl. Nobody’s truly alone. None of us. We always have someone. Even if it’s just one person. Take those three people I mentioned. That mother? She’d have given up if it weren’t for the love of her kid keeping her going. That businessman? He couldn’t accept failure because his employees depended on him. That worker? He had a family waiting and supporting him. Get my point? Even if they’re not right beside you, if you’ve got a bond, a connection deeper than space itself, you’re never really alone. Tell me honestly, you’ve never had anyone pull you out of the shadows?”

“I… yeah…” then I remembered. “Yeah, I did.”

A soft smile formed on my lips.

How could I have forgotten?

My dear Dana, my soul-friend. The ones who pulled me out of my loneliness.

“Judging from how your face lit up, I guess I was right. See? Life’s not so dark if you’ve got company, huh? Anyway, I’ve gotta head to class…”

He said it like it was the worst punishment in the world. And all I could do was smile.

“Don’t be late. And if the principal scolds me for smoking, I’ll flunk you in all my classes.”

“…Like, seriously, should a teacher even be threatening students like that?”

He didn’t answer. He just left. And a few minutes later, so did I.

I had things to think about.