Care Bear

Weekends are for naps.

This is a Bear Spirit Rule. A very important one.

Mama says, ‘A rested bear is a kind bear.’

Papa says, ‘A hungry bear is a dangerous bear.’

Grandpa says, ‘Honey, stop eating all the honey in one sitting.’

So on Sunday morning, I was supposed to be doing my Bear Spirit Resting Ritual. Curled up on a mossy futon, surrounded by lemon honey candles, sleeping. My favorite.

But I couldn’t sleep. Something felt… sad. But not loud-sad, not scary-sad. Just soft, lonely-sad. Like someone holding their breath too long.

Bear Spirits feel emotions the way bees feel pollen, even far away. And this sadness tugged at my fur like a string. So I followed it. Down the hill. Across the forest. Through the portal, to the shrine.

I expected quiet. Wind chimes. Maybe Youchan sweeping. Instead, I saw Sensei.

He was sitting under the oldest sakura tree with his knees pulled to his chest, the sunlight warm on his hair. No makeup. No glamour spell. No sparkly idol shine. Just him.

He wasn’t crying. But he wasn’t smiling either. He looked like a person who forgot what to do on weekends. Like someone who didn’t know where to put their heart. 

I stood there for a moment. Then walked closer.

‘Sensei?’ I whispered.

He blinked, surprised. ‘Honey? It’s Sunday. Shouldn’t you be… hibernating or something?’

‘I sensed something,’ I said simply. ‘Are you sad?’

He paused, eyes softening. Not angry. Not embarrassed. Just soft.

‘Not sad,’ he said quietly. ‘Just thinking.’

Thinking can be sad, so I nodded. Before I could say anything else, he suddenly perked up, grabbing his phone and typing with one finger.

A second later my phone buzzed:

‘Need help carrying some class supplies. Volunteer gets extra snacks. 🐻🍡’

(I am a good boy, so I was given a phone. I however do not use it a lot.)

I gasped. ‘SNACKS?!’

‘You came running before the message sent,’ he teased.

I shuffled my feet. ‘I have fast emotional Wi-Fi.’

He laughed, then took me around the back of the shrine, where a giant storage box was waiting. It was the size of three senseis.

‘Honey! Perfect timing,’ he said. ‘This thing is heavy. And I do not have the power at the moment. Physically or magically.’

‘Heavy is okay,’ I said proudly. ‘Bear spirit.’

And I lifted the entire box with one hand. He stared. Mouth slightly open. ‘You’re stronger than I thought.’

‘We’re good at lifting. And snacking.’

He laughed softer this time. Together we carried the supplies to the main hall: paint jars, scrolls, ropes, and one suspicious karaoke mic.

‘Sensei… why do we have this?’

‘Voice projection training,’ he said too fast.

‘Singing or magic?’

He hesitated. ‘…Both?’

We unpacked, then sat on the steps with hot tea. The forest shimmered around us.

‘You’re quiet today,’ he said.

‘I always am,’ I shrugged. ‘People think bears are lazy. But we just like peace. I like listening.’

He nodded. ‘Peace is underrated.’

We sipped tea in warm silence. Then a tiny whimper came from the bushes. A baby squirrel. It was almost round in shape. It was trembling. It looked lost.

I gasped. ‘Poor thing.’

‘It must’ve followed the scent of food,’ Sensei murmured.

‘Or your perfume,’ I added honestly.

He blinked. ‘My… what?’

‘You smell like cherry blossoms and…’ I sniffed him for good measure, ‘nuts.’

He looked personally attacked before sighing. We crouched beside the trembling squirrel. I offered a bit of mochi, but it refused, curling tighter.

‘It’s scared,’ I whispered.

Sensei nodded. ‘You’re better at calming than me. Try humming.’

So I hummed a low, soft bear lullaby. Sensei joined in eventually. We thought we harmonized, but his voice shimmered, if you can call it that. It was gentle, like lullabies that help me sleep. Almost too pretty for words. The squirrel relaxed instantly, waddled into my lap, and fell asleep on my stomach.

Sensei smiled warmly. ‘See? Your power isn’t strength. It’s calm.’

‘Is that good?’

‘It’s perfect,’ he said. ‘Most spirits roar. You soothe.’

I hugged the squirrel carefully. My chest felt warm.

‘Sensei,’ I asked softly, ‘are you lonely here?’

He froze, just for a heartbeat. ‘Sometimes. But… it’s getting easier.’

‘Because of Youchan?’ I asked because bears are honest.

He turned red. ‘She… helps. A lot.’

The squirrel twitched in its sleep. I watched Sensei watching it. He looked different like that. He looked softer, realer, like sunlight through rice paper.

A good person. A very good person.

‘You’d be a good bear,’ I said.

He looked taken aback. ‘A… bear?’

‘You take care of everyone.’ I shrugged. ‘Even when you don’t roar.’

He stared at me for a long moment. Then smiled. The kind that makes wrinkles near his eyes, the kind only real smiles do. Even his wrinkles looked idol-like.

‘Thank you, Honey. That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.’

When the squirrel woke up, we carried it together to the forest edge. It waddled away, looked back, and chirped.

‘It said thank you,’ I translated.

Sensei nodded. ‘I’ll trust your bear language.’

We walked back to the shrine. It was warm, quiet and peaceful. We both enjoyed it. I made sure he felt better, not just the squirrel, so I hugged him heaps, before I said goodbye.

Before leaving, I stopped at the steps. ‘Sensei?’

‘Mm?’

‘If you ever feel sad again… you can call me.’

‘Call… you?’

He looked shocked that a child would tell him that. I am a child. But I am also an “old soul”, as my family calls me.

‘Yes. Even if I’m napping.’

He giggled, no, snickered. The bright kind he never lets out in class. He knelt to eye-level and patted my hair gently.

‘Thank you, Honey.’ He kissed my forehead. ‘I really mean that.’

I beamed. ‘Bear Spirits protect their pack.’

He looked surprised and touched. Maybe shy too, cause he blushed.

‘So… I’m part of your pack now?’

I nodded. ‘Yes. Forever.’ 

Then I ran off before he questioned the idea.

‘Wait! How did you get—‘

Before he manage to finish that sentence and before he came round the corner, I already got transported through the torii portal.

See you tomorrow at class, sensei!

When I got home, Mama sniffed my hair.

‘You hugged something sad today?’

‘Uh-huh.’

She smiled. ‘Good boy.’

That night, in my journal for Maria, I wrote:

“Sensei felt lonely like a cold fridge, so I hugged him until he remembered he wasn’t.”

And then I drew him with bear ears.