There's Nothing Routine About It

After the showcase, we all stayed to clean the room up. Shelves slid back to where they belong, tables and chairs arranging themselves in a familiar pattern… Yeah, it was about the same.

Somehow, we finished cleaning pretty fast. Probably the fastest I’d ever seen, and once we were done Yamamoto-senpai and Nishimura-senpai quickly took their leave.

“See ya next time!” Yamamoto-senpai waved enthusiastically as he walked through the door. Not like we were going anywhere. Nishimura-senpai flashed a tiny smile to Hayashi-san and I, then walked just behind him.

“That first year sure is something.” Hayashi-san said, out of nowhere. I got the feeling she wanted to talk about it. Before that, I finally found my regular spot (now properly located), and sat down. Her head bowed, and lingered facing the floor. It was probably then that she decided to leave.

She was packing her bag at a nearby table, stacking pencil cases and books to form a weird puzzle. I couldn’t focus on that, though.

My mind was still on the sheet of paper, laying flat in front of me. The creased yet pristine white stuck out on the bark-colored table, half-illuminated by the setting sun. For some reason, the name and club written on it wouldn’t leave my mind.

“Why would someone like him want to join the literature club?”

She stopped packing her bag almost immediately. I think she wasn’t expecting me to answer.

“He’s got the choice of any club in the school. So, why here?” I continued.

“Because he wanted to join.”

I looked away from the page toward her. At least, where she was. At some point, she’d moved to the seat in front of me, and I wasn’t sure how long she’d been there.

“He’s into books and light novels. What other reason does he need?” She asked.

I froze. He’s into books?

Wait, it’s probably some below average garbage people pretend to read.

“He’s a smart kid, Kurosawa-kun. We’re both doing science, after all.”

I blinked slowly, then turned to face the window. I felt the heat of the afternoon sun against my face, something I found myself enjoying more and more as time passed. It made me feel comfortable, like whatever I was doing was the right call, and whatever I felt was the right thing to feel.

“It must be nice.” I added.

“What?”

“Being so sure of your future.”

Hayashi-san exhaled, and let out a soft chuckle at the same time. She wasn’t making any sense, really.

“What’s so funny about that?” I asked.

My eyes drifted for a moment, before we met each other’s gaze. She was still laughing to herself, which I didn’t understand at all. But I couldn’t look away. It was like that time.

Her deep aquamarine eyes, flowing golden hair, and now an added smile with her pure white teeth barely showing behind her soft-red lips. What about it made me unable to look away?

“I’m flattered you see me like that, but you couldn’t be more wrong.”

I felt my head tilting to the left reflexively.

What?

“Just because I know what I want to do doesn’t mean I know it’s going to happen.”

I couldn’t find any words. None that would come out, at least.

“To tell you the truth, I’m scared.” She looked to the floor.

A flicker of understanding passed through my mind. I’ve heard this before.

“Scared of the future.” she continued. My face twitched on instinct alone.

Then she said something that I would never, not in a million years, expect to hear.

“But that’s not going to stop me from trying.” I could see a new resolution wash over her face, because after she said that her entire demeanor changed. She seemed brighter, but it was probably the lighting.

Probably.

She moved her face closer to mine, without any warning.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, unfazed.

Her face began to glow, this time from the setting sun for sure. Colors seemed to liven with her reaction, becoming more vibrant as the background noise seemed to fade into nothing.

She raised a single finger to her lips.

“It’s a secret.”

“I thought I left the–”

Yamamoto-senpai suddenly walked back in without warning. Hayashi-san shot up as he entered, and left almost instantly, almost running into him.

“Woah, okay.” He watched her walk down the hall for a while, out of confusion.

“I forgot my phone….”

He got closer but his trailing words drifted onto deaf ears. I stayed frozen in place, and for some reason my face was getting hot.

Must be the sun, again.

SNAP.

Yamamoto-senpai snapped his fingers right in front of me, bringing me back from… somewhere.

“What’s this sheet?” He asked, indicating the paper in front of me.

“I… uhhh…”

“You alright, Kuro-san?”

I slid the paper to him without any words.

“Am I just an observer today?” he questioned.

I could see him read the paper, pretty slowly if I might add.

“So, he’s joining?”

“I guess.”

He ran away, and came back with a faded black magic 8-ball. What was he planning…?

“Am I even real?” He asked, shaking.

That’s not a question you ask, future prisoner-senpai. Plus, it looks like any answer you get won’t even be readable.

“Aww… I got….something?” He questioned, then tilted it to show me.

The die was long worn down, essentially a pure white cube now. Maybe a long time ago, there was something written there, but it’s long gone now. Who knows what it would’ve said.

“Hoshino-sensei said to grab any applications, but he didn’t really seem to think there’d be any.”

He grabbed the paper, and folded it into his pocket. He stayed looking at me for a while after, maybe waiting for a reply, but I wasn’t planning on saying anything.

“Just… have a good night, Kurosawa.”

He left as quickly as he came.

The 8-ball was just sitting in front of me, on the table. So I figured, why not.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

I shook, not expecting an answer. I was right. The die was blank.

I chuckled to myself.

Even if it was what I was expecting, it was funny.

*

A few days pass after that, and I found myself sitting on a worn park bench, covered by a familiarly layered green canopy. Me and this bench had formed a connection of sorts, where it’d always be there and I’d visit after club meetings, or school sometimes. It didn’t really give much to me in return, but I found myself coming back more and more. Maybe that’s why I’m here, even on my day off.

Instead of my usual school uniform, I had a gray-striped button up short-sleeve shirt I tucked loosely into my black shorts. My camera sat next to me on the bench, the lens cap still on. I hadn’t found anything worth looking at yet.

I lightly tapped the side of the camera with my finger, the repeated motion somehow feeling soothing.

Then something caught my eye.

I tilted my head and removed the lens cap instinctually. It was a lone ship, slowly drifting across calm waters. The ship’s white and red color palette really contrasted the water in a unique way, and with the added stillness of the water made the overall composition sit nicely.

With my camera pointed, I adjusted some settings to truly capture what I saw.

Mode: Aperture Priority

F-Stop: f/8

ISO: 100

I took a deep breath. This one was going to work.

Click.

“Huh?”

There was something in the middle of the shot. Again. Looks like someone fell at the exact moment I clicked the shutter, and dropped directly in front of the ship I tried to focus on.

What kind of idiot–

As I lowered my camera, I got a good look at the person who fell. His short, light-brown hair was unmistakable, and his complete unawareness of his surroundings. He stayed on the ground a lot longer than I was expecting, but suddenly looked up, and directly into my eyes.

“Kurosawa-senpai?”

“Ishikawa-san?”

His face lit up, shaking off the spectacular tumble without any issue. I grew less interested by the second.

“Funny seeing you here, Kurosawa-senpai!” Ishikawa-san approached, somehow skipping after the whole ‘fall’ situation. It wasn’t exactly funny seeing him, though. It’s a public space. His eyes shifted to my hands, carefully examining my camera.

“You take photos?”

“Uhh.. yeah.”

He took up the spot next to me on the bench, getting more than close enough to see the screen. Too close for me.

“Lemme see!”

The screen was still lingering on the last photo I took, which was of course… him falling. He stared for a long while, and I don’t blame him. I would too, seeing myself caught in perfect resolution tripping over my feet.

It’s a terrible shot anyway. Go ahead, laugh.

And that he did.

That didn’t mean right away, idiot.

“You see the look on my face? I look lost!”

He wasn’t laughing at the photo?

Ishikawa-san was brought to tears from laughing so hard, and I couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of relief. I even let out a faint chuckle.

You make no sense, Ishikawa-san.

“Is there any more?” he asked, directing his attention to me. I silently navigated to the gallery, where only a handful of photos were left. He picked one, at random.

It was a slightly blurred moth, flying right in front of the moon. The same shot the moth ruined out of selfishness.

“This one’s good.”

“The moth ruined my shot.” I shot back coldly. He pointed to the moth in the photo for some reason.

“Not really.”

His reply made no sense, but nothing about him really did. I knew the moth was there by accident. It wasn’t meant to be there.

He thought it was supposed to be like that.

“I’m no photographer, so I wouldn’t have the best interpretation.” He specified.

My attention lingered on the photo, trying to see it the same way he did.

But I couldn’t.

I turned the camera off, and slid the lens cover back on.

“What’s the matter, Kurosawa-senpai?”

“Kurosawa’s fine. I don’t want to think of myself as a senpai.”

“Ah, okay. What’s the matter, Kurosawa?”

“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t involve you.” I slowly got up from the bench, and slung the camera bag’s strap over my shoulder. He got up right after me.

“Where are we going?” He asked. He probably thought we would hang after this. Well, too bad.

“We’re going nowhere. I’m going to the convenience store.” I started walking away. Ishikawa-san just stood there with a slight amount of disappointment visible on his face. I just need to keep walking.

I didn’t listen to myself, and turned to face him. It was a small hand gesture, but enough to tell him a simple message.

“Fine, come on.”

His expression brightened instantly. That’s when it clicked for me. He and Yamamoto-senpai are really similar. Not in the future prisoner look, but how fast they are to switch gears.

He quickly caught up to me, and we walked side-by-side down a paved sidewalk. I kept my mind occupied by observing the shapes and colors that composed the path itself. It was weird, really. We didn’t say a single word for ten minutes, we just walked to the convenience store in complete silence.

I could feel his eyes randomly focus and unfocus on me, probably hoping for some form of conversation, which I pretended not to notice. It’s best not to notice these most of the time.

“What convenience store are we going to?” He asked, trying to forcefully break the silence.

I didn’t really want to answer him, so I stayed quiet. I didn’t feel the need to break away just yet either.

Not immediately, anyway.

*

“Rintaro! Make sure you finish your submission for the trip!”

“Yes, sir.”

I, Rintaro Hoshino, homeroom teacher for class 2-C, had to stay late and type a submission for a club-related trip happening soon. It would’ve been done by now, but I sort of… forgot about the deadline until the day of. Happens a lot more than I thought it would, even after I graduated and started teaching.

It wasn’t the hardest thing in the world, but it got me thinking more about the literature club. It was shaping up to be something different this year, at least from what I’ve seen so far.

I threw my red tie over my shoulder, so it wouldn’t get in the way of typing. I always hated those things, but that’s for another day.

I was typing up the report and itinerary, all the menial information the principal needed for the budget, when my mind drifted back to a year ago. It felt like it was yesterday. The blissfully unaware mornings, and happily departed evenings. I hadn’t quite settled into teaching just yet, and didn’t really know what my place was around here.

Maybe that’s why I noticed.

In that class was someone I took a quiet note of. Ren Kurosawa.

You never really participated in group work, but not because of the ‘gloomy’ aura you radiated. People learned after a couple tries, that you just didn’t want to work with them. That whole year went by in a blur, nothing really staying in the same place for too long, or on the same subject. Only one thing did.

I remember it pretty clearly, even now. Students piling their completed papers on my lectern as they left. After a long wait, you finally handed yours in, dead last. You were like a statue, unfazed by the motion around you, unchanged by the passing of time.

You didn’t think anyone would notice, did you?

My hands still clicked away at my keyboard, but my eyes glanced out a nearby window, and into a room on the first floor. The books were tidy, at least more tidy than they were a little earlier.

Those days you thought nobody would be there, or notice what you were doing?

I saw.

Day after day, without fail, you would in some way, shape or form, check if anyone showed up.

I came into this school year thinking nothing would change, and I was ready to give you that push you needed to succeed. But, something did change.

To think that someone could nudge you, even the slightest amount… Makes me happy.

The statue known as Ren Kurosawa, previously rigid and unwavering… showed the tiniest hints of intention. Maybe it wasn’t just someone, or something. Who knows…

But who am I to question the means?

After all, I’m nothing but a teacher.

I finished the submission, and printed it to hand in. The principal isn’t the most… adept we’ll say… at using his email. I stretched a victory stretch in my office chair, and let out a (well deserved) exhale of completion. Man, teacher work is no joke, seriously.

A familiar heel clicking noise approached my chair.

“Oh, Kaede! Didn’t expect you here so late.”

Standing between the printer and I was class 2-F’s homeroom teacher, Kaede Goro. She was also the former supervisor for the literature club, but… nevermind. It’s a boring story.

Her sleek, tied up brown hair reflected some of the moonlight that shone through the window. Was it that late already?

Like any other day, she wore a black, knee-length pencil skirt and a neatly tucked white top.

“Ah, Rintaro. I could ask you the same thing.” She replied in her usual, firm tone. There wasn’t a hint of warmth in that woman, I tell you.

“I forgot to submit the trip form.” I nervously laughed, and scratched the back of my neck. It was a bad habit of mine.

I tried laughing it off, but Kaede just blankly stared at me.

“A trip for the literature club? Where would that even be?”

“You’ll see.” I smirked, and flashily pushed my glasses up.

“That’s way too ominous for a club trip.”

There was still some exhaustion I could feel, so I tried pushing it out with a final, long yawn. A weird pause happened, where only the steady hum of the printer could be heard.

“Want to go for a smoke?” She asked.

“Are you suggesting we violate school policy?!” I mocked sarcastically. She finally cracked, and laughed softly. I didn’t really get why she took so long to wind down, but it’s not my place to poke around. We headed up to the rooftop.

After a bit of smoking in silence, I finally spat out the truth.

“We’re going to Kamakura.”

“How does that have anything to do with books?” She asked, taking a puff of her cigarette.

I didn’t tell her why, but I had two reasons, really. To reward the progress I was seeing with everyone, and to do my part in making sure it stays that way.

“Because there’s a beach–”

“You can’t just go on a 3-day beach trip!” she spat back.

She saw the sarcasm on my face, and we both started to laugh. It’s not like I wanted to dodge the question for no reason, actually the opposite.

I didn’t want to re-open an old wound. So, this way is better.

Yeah, this way is better.