Mission: Future Plans

Whirring, clacking, and paper jams. That’s what printers were known for.

Takeshi leaned against the old printer and waited for it to finish. He glanced at the clock.

6:35. Not exactly the ideal time to be standing at a printer... But what can I do? The students need to fill out their forms.

The printer was located at the far end of the room under a large window, more or less opposite from Takeshi’s desk. His eyes wandered across the staff room. Most of the chairs were still empty. Only two desks were used, with the sounds of typing and mouse clicks. Shizuka and Kyoko Suginami were already there, seemingly preparing more lesson materials.

Outside, the first rays of sunlight cut through the darkness. As every morning, the sun struggled to push through the lingering fog. Between the buildings, a small section of the Hida River could be seen, flowing steadily like the printer.

The silence was suddenly broken, and the room filled with life again.

"Ah, Shizuka-chan. Would you like some tea as well?"

Shizuka-chan? Since when are those two so close?

“Mm! That would be lovely. Thank you so much!”

“Oh, don’t be so stiff. I thought we were friends now,” said Ms. Suginami teasingly.
Shizuka seemed at a loss for words, offering a shy smile and a slight bow.

“Sorry. Still a habit.”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

The bubbling of the electric kettle mixed with their voices. Ms. Suginami retrieved two mugs from a cupboard, dropped a teabag into each, and waited. A few seconds later, a click signaled the boiling process was done. The smell of green tea began to fill the room.

“Thank you very much! And sorry for the trouble,” said Shizuka as the tea was placed on her desk.

You’re just as stiff as ever… are you forgot what she said?

Ms. Suginami said nothing this time, but Takeshi didn’t miss the slight twitch in her eye.

6:44 a.m., and it’s only just finished. Thirty pages in nine minutes. This thing’s probably older than I am...but still more productive than Watanabe.

Takeshi reached for the stack of papers. He could still feel the warmth through his gloves. Carefully, so as not to smudge the ink, he placed them into an envelope. Ready for delivery.

“Oh, Katou-sensei! I just noticed how early you arrived today. Is everything alright?”
Just as he sat down, a pair of eyes appeared at the edge of his screen. Ms. Suginami’s eyes.

She is lonely, huh? Or maybe too sociable...

Some people rely on interaction to stabilize their sense of self. Socializers. Not necessarily extroverts, but people wo lose themselves in isolation. They speak to stay visible in the minds of other people. They don’t seek attention out of arrogance, but to compensate. The lack of feedback creates panic. They are just calibrated differently. They are vulnerable to neglect or manipulation.
While some people recharge alone, they vanish without a crowd.

“I just woke up earlier,” he replied curtly.

“I see… Didn’t sleep well?”

“Same as always, I guess.” A shrug accompanied his words.

“Okay… um… Well, I had a terrible night. Must be the full moon or something…”

Nonsense. Placebo. People sleep worse because they believe they will.

“Maybe…”

“It’s really fascinating. Most people sleep worse during a full moon.”

Because most people fall for that belief.

Kyoko Suginami turned to Shizuka and threw her the same question.

“Did you sleep poorly too?”

“No, I don’t believe in things like worse sleep during full moons.”

Another forced smile. It almost seemed rehearsed.
… That surprises me…

“What?! Oh man, so I’m the only one? That’s frustrating…”

Ms. Suginami slumped back into her chair, mumbling something quietly. Nothing Takeshi cloud hear anymore.

Due to the class teacher’s absence, Takeshi had to cover the first period today. It was an English class. Luckily, he’d already written the notebooks for Ayaka, so he knew exactly how far the students were in the material.

Just before class began, he tucked the envelope under his arm and set off.
The calm, sleepy atmosphere was replaced with chatter and commotion in the hallway. It felt like a different world. Many students stood in small groups in front of classrooms, chatting enthusiastically. Some returned to their own classes, others pleaded to copy homework. Nothing new for Takeshi, this was the norm every morning.

What’s new was the substitute lesson. He felt no nerves or anxiety, but he was curious to see how well the students knew English. He was confident in his own skills, he’d spent too many years abroad to be anything but fluent.

He recognized a few students from Class 2-3 who greeted him but made no move to enter the classroom. Only when he stepped inside did the room quiet down and the remaining students followed quickly.

Whispering and murmurs spread.

“Why’s he here? Isn’t this supposed to be English?”

“Yeah, he’s not supposed to be here until the afternoon, right?”

“Hey, can he even speak English?”

Takeshi stood in front of the blackboard and waited for the last students to arrive. They expected another teacher this morning. When they hurried for their seats, some looked at their friends, puzzled.

“As you’ve probably noticed, your homeroom teacher is out sick. I’ll be covering for him today.”

His voice was clear, firm, and steady. A murmur rippled through the class, and the whispering continued. After taking attendance, he opened the envelope he’d waited nine minutes to print.

“But before we start with the lesson, I’ll hand out the future path forms. You know the drill. I’ll collect them again in ten minutes, and then we’ll start the regular class.”
Some of them look almost desperate. Others seem pretty sure of themselves.
Takeshi couldn’t help but glance toward Ayaka.

I’m curious what she’ll write…

For a brief moment, their eyes met. Ayaka quickly lowered her gaze, fixed on the desk. The pen in her hand looked like it might snap under the pressure.

Within minutes, everyone had a copy of the now-cold printouts.

“You may begin,” he said, and some students started writing immediately. He leaned back against the window. He felt the warm spring sun through his jacket, like hands resting gently on his shoulders. He could hear the scratching of pens, the rustling of paper, and the occasional audible sigh.

Some are nearly done, others are just beginning… or haven’t started at all. Fascinating. Akio is already finished. Not surprising. No hesitation, no pauses, a clear plan. A model student, through and through. Probably aiming for the university of his choice. His straight posture, his pen perfectly parallel to the edge of the desk. It’s all too perfect.

Daisuke ruffled his hair, chewing nervously on his pencil, so loudly you could almost hear the crunch.

A clear case of “I have no idea.” Hard to blame him. It was a difficult decision.

A pencil scratched across paper, erasing something previously written.

Naomi seemed unable to decide. I’m guessing... fashion design? Maybe. Possibly a stylist.

Takeshi scanned the room like a security camera guarding a bank vault. Nothing escaped him. Not a twitch, not a scratch. Not even when Kichiro licked his lips. But his gaze lingered longer on one person.

Ayaka... her sheet was blank... What does your future look like?

Her pen hovered above the page, her grip tense. It looked as if she had forgotten how to write. The sunlight glistened on her sweaty hands. Frozen in place, she didn’t move an inch.

Four minutes left. So, what will you write? A hope, a dream, or a lie? Maybe... let me try something...

“Four minutes left. Relax. It’s just a piece of paper, not a verdict. A blank sheet says more than forced words ever could.”

That was the exact moment Ayaka needed. Startled, she looked up at him with wide eyes and he looked back. Her grip loosened, her shoulders sank.

Looks like it worked... maybe?

The ticking clock filled the room. Most students were reviewing their entries, some still scribbling their final lines.

“Alright, time’s up. Please pass your sheets to the front.”

Takeshi stepped away from the window and clapped his hands lightly, as if signaling the start of something. The students turned around, papers rustled, and a few couldn’t resist peeking at their classmates’ answers.

The sheets disappeared into the envelope and were eventually filed into his documents.

“Okay, good. Let’s begin the actual lesson now.”

Most students pulled out their notebooks and textbooks. The rustling of bags, a dropped pencil here and there. He waited until everyone was ready.

“Please open your textbooks to page 34. We’ll start with paragraph three,” Takeshi said in perfect English. No accent, no hesitation. Crystal clear and calm. Not exactly what you’d expect from a substitute teacher.

The class stared, stunned and surprised. Heads turned, glances exchanged. A whispered “Whoa!” echoed.
Then—

“Yo, where did that come from?!”

“Was he born abroad? He sounds like a Netclix movie!”

“Naw, we’re actually doing proper English now? I was hoping for a chill session…”

Of course, Takeshi noticed their reactions. He noticed everything. And paused for a moment until the class settled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a student stand up.

“Um… Sensei, how do you speak English so well? Forgive me if I’m being rude,” Akio asked curiously.

“It’s fine. As I’ve said in my other classes. Speak freely. As for your question: I’ve traveled quite a bit and didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Eeh~? Where have you been?” Naomi asked, intrigued.

It’d be easier to list where I haven’t been…

“I’ve been to quite a few places… Indonesia, South Sudan, Afghanistan, Somalia…”
His voice faltered.

Just for a heartbeat. Sunlight touched his neck, slid across his collarbone. But his face remained in the shadows, the contrast blurred his expression.

Then he continued speaking as if nothing had happened. His tone was indifferent.

“...and some other places.”

A wave of shock rippled through the class.

Pens stopped, mouths dropped open, eyes darted around the room—

“EEEEH?!”

The students didn’t just shout it. They practically hurled it at Takeshi’s face.

“Is he, like, rich?”

“He must be. Who else can afford that?”

“Maybe he flies around in a private jet.”

“I wanna go too!!”

While the class erupted in chatter, Ayaka couldn’t shake a troubling feeling. Something was off. She couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe it was that brief pause, maybe the light.

“Anyway. Let’s focus on the lesson.”

Once again, perfect English filled the air. The students were still a bit rattled, but they quickly regained their composure, and the lesson properly began.

The rest of the day passed faster than usual. Hours came and went, conversations blurred into background noise. Takeshi did what was required of him. Like a tape recorder playing the same song over and over. Teaching, prepping, grading. It all started to feel like routine. Still, he couldn’t shake the class from his mind. He hated to admit it, but curiosity about the forms had taken root.

Only when the sun began to dip behind the mountains and shadows grew long did he finally find the time and calm to pull the envelope back out. He wasn’t technically their homeroom teacher, but he felt it was his responsibility to see this through.

The teachers’ lounge was as empty as it had been in the morning, with only the ticking of the clock breaking the ambient silence. He sat down. The envelope lay before him, innocent at first glance. Just paper and ink, and yet it contained ambitions.
He took a deep breath and pulled the top form from the envelope.

Akio Isobe. Aspiration: University. Followed by a detailed priority list. University of Tokyo. With his grades, it should be easy. Comments? Hm… planned major: Medicine. How boring. Feels more like an expectation than a dream.

He filed the completed forms back into the envelope. Most were predictable. University. Employment. A few planned to take over their family business despite excellent grades.

When he saw the next name, his attention sharpened to a razor’s edge.

Naomi Asa. Aspiration: Undecided. Priorities: left blank. Comments: Marry rich.

Urgh… is she serious? Is that really the image she wants to give off? Is she afraid to tell the truth? Or does she simply not want to? How annoying…

Kichiro, Daisuke, and many others had realistic plans.

Second to last form.

Ayaka Ikehara. Nothing. Not surprising… and yet, I had hoped. But it is what it is.
Only her name was on the sheet. Nothing else. Takeshi had expected as much. Still, he’d wished for more.

Alright then. I’ll need to speak with those four tomorrow.

After tucking the final form back into the envelope, he sealed it and placed it in the drawer beneath his desk. The soft click of the drawer echoed faintly, like he had locked something away. But he knew this was only the beginning.