A Teacher's Duty / 先生に責任

Afternoon. Our daily cleaning duty had just come to an end. I had asked Yokoyama and Kimura to leave so that Naoto and I could talk things out with teacher Miyazaki.

“Ueno, do you know where she is? Yesterday, you told me she was by the cafeteria around this time of day.”

“Yes, I do, she’s at the exact same place.”

“Alright then. Let’s get moving, Natsuko.”

“Yes.”

We all moved from our classroom to what now seemed like our English teacher’s favorite 3:30 PM location. She noticed us right off the bat.

“Ah, there you are. Ueno, if I may, could I ask you to leave? I’m grateful for your help up to this point.”

“No, no, it’s completely fine. See you tomorrow!”, he waved as he walked towards the other side of the school, where the entrance was.

“Now then, let’s get going, we have a lot to do, you two.”

We both nodded in affirmation, following our teacher’s steps. As soon as I caught sight of what I thought was our ride, I wondered if that was it.

“Umm teacher Miyazaki? Is that your car?”

“Indeed. Come on, you two, hop onto the back seats.”

The dark-brown-haired teacher unlocked the doors with the help of her car keys. Natsuko opened the door first and, consequently, entered and sat down before I did. When all three of us were in the vehicle, she pressed the “Start/Stop” button and held the brake pedal.

“Don’t forget to fasten your seatbelts, you guys.”

“I know! You’re not my mother, alright?”

I was bothered by the motherly posture and condescending attitude of our driver. However, to reassure us she wasn’t trying to strike a nerve, she let out a casual laugh and smiled, as it could be seen from the mirror in front of her.

“I’m aware of that. But I am Natsuko’s, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, you were for these past days, but can you please not do that?”

“I’m just kidding! Enough chit-chat, I have a meeting in less than an hour.”

The car finally left the parking lot and we entered the traffic, with our next stop being the place where Akira Natsuko had lived during these initial days of April—the Miyazaki household.

As we edged closer to our destination, we had to stop due to a red traffic light for about half a minute. To break the silence inside, our chauffeur for that very afternoon threw a question at the shy passenger in the back.

“So, Natsuko, tell me. What do you think of him? I’m talking about Yuki Ishida.”

She really worded it as if my presence was non-existent.

Like a mother, that teacher wanted to see if who she was handing her daughter to was worthy. Testing me indirectly. I didn’t bother to comment on it and went along with her ploy. Natsuko wasn’t as comfortable with it though.

“Well… he was the only one who helped me. When no one else cared, he stood out his hand to me. So, yes, I like him.”

“Understood. You heard that loud and clear, Ishida. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

I did the best I could with the seatbelt limiting my movements, swearing to protect her and always be by her side, like a knight compromising with an oath of allegiance to his queen.

“Yes! I promise!”

“Come on, come on, no need to go that far. Although I admire your commitment.”

As she was expelling that out of her mouth, I noticed the traffic light changing from red to green.

“Teacher, it’s green already.”

The driver behind us expressed his anger by using their loud and annoying car horn.

“Ah, sorry. Though that someone behind us should really learn what patience means.”

Mildly annoyed, she restarted the engine and moved onwards.

Having arrived, she parked the car in her own garage and signaled us to head outside.

“The door is this way, Ishida.”

“Ah, ok.”

Now in the entrance hall of the house, the one thing I noticed straight up was the lack of stairs. Second of all, the kitchen and living room weren’t next to each other. Lastly, the only floor was nearly twice as large when compared to my very own residence.

“Woah your house looks cool, teacher.”

“Thanks for the compliment. Natsuko, hurry and go pick up your luggage.”

Right as she headed to her room, I trailed behind to lend her a hand. There was no way I would let her carry all that luggage by herself. As expected, the room was empty, stripped of any objects not part of the backbone of a bedroom.

“Natsuko, can I carry those two?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Whenever you’re ready, we can go back to the entrance hall.”

I noticed her staring into the emptiness of the room as if imagining what once was. Nevertheless, it was now a void, naked room.

She turned back and picked up her luggage. I made sure she only had to carry one of the three. Not because of weight or to be a gentleman, but instead because I knew she was tired of everything. I could see it in her eyes. She almost always had that look. The look of someone who lost something or someone. And I wanted it to vanish. I wished for it. I swore to make her eyes shine again.

“Let’s go,” she pronounced with an amused expression.

Waiting for us by the door, the English teacher acknowledged our arrival and subtly remarked, “Alright, now that we’re all set, let’s get moving to your house, Ishida.”

Within less than ten minutes, we finished our duties and Natsuko said her last goodbyes to the singular-floored house. One more time, we entered the four-wheeled automobile, this time with our destination set on the Ishida household. As we got back on track, the teacher posed a question directed at me while driving through the street.

“Just to confirm, your house’s in Chuo ward, right?”

“Yes. Once we get there, I can give you directions.”

“There’s no need for that. Instead tell me your address, or rather, the street where you live. I’ll use the GPS to pinpoint the location and get my directions.”

“Alright.”

Around halfway through, as we were approaching an intersection of two roads, Miyazaki asked us both a challenging question.

“How good were your grades in the last school year? This goes for both of you.”

As expected, I answered first.

“Umm, mine were... how should I say it, good? I had some A’s, that’s good, right?”

“Yes, they are. But don’t slack off this year! Do not forget that while I am your English teacher, I’m also the one responsible for your class.”

“I know.”

“Now, it’s your tur—”

Suddenly, she was interrupted by an irritating event. A driver didn’t respect the traffic rules and didn’t stop when they should have. They did not check whether or not there were any cars nearing the intersection, on the road perpendicular to theirs. Instead, they headed straight forward past that it.

“Heeeyyy!!! You bastard, learn to respect the traffic rules! That’s a stop sign, which means you should stop to check if any cars are nearing the intersection! I have priority!”

Our teacher expressed her anger by not only screaming at that wretched driver but also with the use of her car horn.

“Anyhow, continuing our conversation—your turn now, Natsuko.”

“U-Umm, my grades were similar to how he described his. I also had A’s.”

“I hope one of those A’s was from English! Well, I can at least check his grades on the school archives.”

“That’s cheating, teacher.”

She laughed a bit because of the serious look I sported when I said it. It was truly no fun if she just opened the archives from last year’s Class 2-1. Not that I could stop her anyway.

In a matter of minutes, we arrived at the last stop. The terminus.