Chapter 6: Next Time, Try Not To Lose (Part 2)

As I came out of the infirmary, it became clear that autumn is nearing surrendering to winter. Leaves are already turning yellow and orange, constantly falling and scattering on the school pavements. They crunched beneath my soles.

I was glad that our P.E coach and Omori-sensei were lenient with me along the way. The former helped me walk, even staggering, and I tried keeping up my pace.

Not long after we reached the guidance office.

The premises reeked of anxiety, or maybe that was just me. Of course I’m the only one that is worried about being framed once more just like what happened on the first day of second year classes.

Noticing my arrival, the party of Morita, Hirose and Takuya showed their scrunched eyebrows.

“Well, well. Look who finally woke up from his princess nap.”

Morita’s statement was accompanied by giggles from the boys in his posse.

“Did you enjoy your beauty sleep, Shimizu?” Hirose added. “You look better than before. Maybe you should get beaten up more often.”

“We’ve been waiting three hours, cryptid.” Takuya snickered. “Did you properly rehearse your victim act?”

I took my seat across them, ignoring how my teeth gritted harder with each word of provocation. I am aware of what they’re aiming for. If they get a rise out of me, then it means I am admitting guilt of being the aggressor.

Omori-sensei closed the door behind us and took the seat between the P.E coach and the administrative officer, forming a triangle of authority that stared us all down.

“Alright,” the counselor began, folding her hands. “We’re here to clarify what happened after the class athletic contest. You students knew that violence of any degree is unacceptable. Now…who would like to speak first?”

Before I could speak, Morita shoved himself forward with theatrical indignation.

“He jumped us out of nowhere!” he snapped. “This fool started mouthing off about that Kousaka, as if that runt gives a damn about him.”

Hirose nodded emphatically. “That’s right, sensei! He got in our faces and told us we were cowards or something for not talking to Kousaka straight. So obviously we reacted!”

Was this even rehearsed?

A repetitive barrage of accusations echoed in the room, each one screaming the same summary: I was to be blamed, I started the fight and I am a crybaby.

It was filled with sugarcoating, a classic delinquent power move, and it only made me more internally upset in the end.

“That’s not true.” I simply countered.

“No!” Hirose immediately argued. “We were just playing around like normal guys do. If this piece of crap was really keen on chiming in, he should’ve expected the consequences and took it as a man. Offended by jokes about others? Come on, don’t be fucking stupid.”

“Offended, huh?” I muttered.

“See? He’s doing it again!”

Omori-sensei raised her palm. “Let him finish.”

“We said something harmless about Kousaka, and your dango boy here just lost it. Guess he’s a jealous type because the girl doesn’t even acknowledge his existence.”

I inhaled slowly. “Harmless, huh? Are you done playing the nerd now?”

Hirose scoffed. “And you, are you done playing the misunderstood saint? Yeah, go ahead. Entertain us.”

I lifted my eyes.

“I didn’t attack them, Omori-sensei. I told them to stop insulting her.”

“And why would you do that? Because you’re her lawyer? Her pet?” Morita interjected, smirking condescendingly at me.

Omori-sensei tapped her pen. “Enough. Let me ask you, Shimizu-kun. Did you do that because you didn’t like the way they described this Kousaka?”

After a sigh, I nodded slowly. That was the outstanding fact. I just wanted this to end as quickly as possible because I hated being in this kind of spotlight.

“That’s what I did out of frustration, or maybe resignation. I just can't stand being around bullies.”

That miscalculated move made me realize that I just shot myself in the foot. The tables immediately turned against me as they started to find my pressure points, and even the counselor believed that I initiated this mess.

The only rule against bullies: don’t let your composure crack.

After that, we started spitting statements at our guts. It took a lot before Omori-sensei stopped it from escalating anymore.

“Enough. I have heard both sides. While I appreciate the passion, the fact remains: physical violence took place. Regardless of who started the verbal exchange, all four of you contributed to escalating the situation.”

Hirose practically jumped out of his seat. “This is ridiculous! We’re the ones injured emotionally here—”

“You cornered him three-to-one,” the coach cut in. “Now cry less.”

Takuya glared. “Mind your own business, old man.”

“Say that again, or I'll make sure you're blacklisted tomorrow. I am at your advisory class, no?”

With that, Takuya clicked his tongue and slacked on his seat.

Honestly, these punks don't even care if they are getting suspended and expelled for fighting again—they will still play victims and heck, these old farts will believe them instead.

Isn’t my busted lips and nose and the footprint on my PE shirt enough of a testimony?

In the end, their one sided-beatdown became an act of self defense, and I got taken down by three rascals.

But somehow, it made me aware of something—my own weakness. I can take hits without getting hinged, but that wouldn't be the case if that's on the people I cared for.

Speaking of which—when did I even start to care for Kousaka-san?

As I thought of this, Omori-sensei started to shuffle through the papers on her desk.

After that, she drew a long breath.

“Alright. I’ve heard enough. I will now issue disciplinary actions.”

Morita leaned forward immediately, voice dripping with confidence. “Good. Suspend him and call it quits.”

“No, I’m suspending all four of you.”

“Tch—wait, ALL FOUR?! Are you serious right now?!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me,” she ordered. “You were provoking him and your ‘talking’ contained harassment and demeaning comments about another student.”

Hirose, having lost composure again, tried to explain.

“It was a joke! We were also just praising her sizes. Come on, that’s part of puberty and youth!”

“See?” Omori-sensei raised a brow. “This kind of perverse attitude is exactly the problem. If that was me, I would’ve reacted the same way.”

“That's why I'm saying that I won't do it again! Can't you just accept our apology and let it slip?!”

“I believe that's not possible as of the moment, Hirose Manabu-kun. Let me give you a scenario—if you had a sister or a girlfriend and this one specific person describes her that way, you’ll see what I mean, right?”

Hirose blinked in confusion, clearly pondering it over. He nodded slowly thereafter. Everyone of us knew Omori-sensei’s point made sense. It felt relieving to hear it from someone who knows her job at least.

Morita dabbed a finger in my direction.

“The heck is this?! You’re gonna treat him like a victim?!”

“No,” she said firmly. “Shimizu-kun is not being treated as a victim. He escalated the situation by confronting you aggressively and taunting you to fight. He will be disciplined too.”

“Yes! He escalated and that was our self-defense!”

It droned over, and I remembered I started losing interest once she mentioned about me being put into a higher accountability as a scholar student of Shonan High. Now we're talking about the clear unwritten discrimination towards those who can and can’t pay for their education.

As scholars they said, we should uphold the highest kind of ethics and morality and become people to look up to by others.

“You’re not like them, Shimizu. You’re not a problem student. You don’t have a history of aggression. This is out of character for you.” she said.

I kept my mouth shut, appreciating the kindness. Yet the three punks beside me weren't. They're still putting salt in the wounds with their practiced snide remarks that they were righteous for beating me up, because it meant saving their honor, or for me, their ego.

I just let her talk. Let them remind us of “appropriate behavior” and “fighting isn’t the answer.”

Yeah, I knew.

I’d heard similar lectures before—when the news broke out that my parents abandoned me in middle school, when my classmates started bullying me and I started to fight back, when the teachers realized I was on autopilot till now. They talked like I was a broken vending machine spitting out stupidly self-deprecating behavior, and counseled me every single day.

They said that I should live a better version of myself and leave everything to yesterday.

Oh, right. When someone isn't walking in your shoes, they rely on sophism to 'lighten' the weight.

While it taught me how to deal with the pain, it never answered the questions I longed for.

It's just simple: why did they choose to leave me?

After a fifteen minute moral lecture, they let me go with a 3-day suspension and four letters to write: one to the school, one for the three delinquents. Three pages each.

Apologize to the people who hit you. That’s how this works.

The only compensation for that was the punks were tasked to conduct one week of campus maintenance duties. They will help the school maintenance team sweep, mop, carry trash, clean bathrooms, maintain the sports field, and help with equipment storage, which in my opinion, is much lighter than mine.

They still get to attend classes while I don’t. It’s not like I can complain about that, so it goes.

The day after tomorrow, the suspensions will begin.