It’s Pronounced “Sanderson”

“If you were given the chance to relive any day of your life, which day would you pick?”

“Oh, remember when we broke into the school roof and set off fireworks?”

Nori scoffed, “We could do that whenever we want. Pick something more exciting.”

“That was exciting though! We almost got caught, remember?”

“How about that time when Daisuke said there was a nice beach on the other side of this huge forest, but after walking for three hours we couldn’t find it?”

“For the last time, I did not get us lost!” Daisuke exclaimed.

“It was pretty fun though,” Kaede said. “I liked walking through that forest.”

“What about you, Sano-kun? If you were given the chance to relive any day of your life, which day would you pick?“

“Oh. I’m not sure. Maybe my birthday party last year.”

“Oh my god! Yes! That was so fun!”

“Yeah. That day was amazing.”

“Personally, I think that’s a boring choice, but I can understand why you picked it.”

In reality, Kazuyuki thought about the day he and Satō Fuyumi properly became acquainted with one another. Although it wasn’t a big event like his birthday party last year, he cherished the memories from that day. If he could relive that day again, he would take that opportunity without hesitation.

“Speaking of which, it’s your birthday soon, Sano-kun. Are we having a party to celebrate it again?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yay! Party time at Kazuyuki’s home!”

“I’d have to check with my mother if it’s okay.”

“I’ll come with you. I’m sure Sano-san would definitely listen if I’m there.” 

”She does love you like a daughter, Kaede.”

Kaede smiled. The classroom door opened, and Fuyumi entered. Kazuyuki raised his hand to catch her attention, but she ignored him and went straight to her seat. He was surprised by this action.

When class started, Kazuyuki’s mind was focused on Fuyumi’s early behaviour; it wasn’t abnormal for her to be distant from others, but he thought that they were finally becoming friends. “Why did she ignore me? Did I do something wrong?” He thought. 

Even at lunch, Fuyumi didn’t say a single word to him. “I thought we were on speaking terms.”

He was about to give up on trying to communicate with her, but he noticed she was looking for something in her pencil case.

“Are you okay?”

“I can’t find my mechanical pencil.”

She continued to rummage through her bag when a mechanical pencil was rolled over to her. She noticed the letter ‘K’ on it and realised it was Kazuyuki’s.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I have another one.”

“Thank you.”

Kazuyuki smiled, knowing that she had finally talked to him.

“Isn’t the new English teacher coming in today?”

Kazuyuki had completely forgotten about that.

Their first English lesson with the new teacher began. He had arrived with a bag full of English textbooks from England. Many had joked about a foreigner being the teacher of a class of Japanese students, but when he wrote his name down on the chalkboard, they were surprised to see how neat his kanji was.

“My name is Sanderson-Sensei. It’s pronounced ‘Sanderson’. I will be replacing Fumihito-Sensei as your English teacher. Any questions?” 

“How did you become a teacher here?” One student said

“I applied, like any other teacher.”

“Your Japanese is very good.”

“Thank you. I actually spent three years living here before applying as a teacher.”

“Cool!”

“Are you single?” One female student asked

The entire class laughed.

“Okay, I think that’s enough questions. Now let’s open our books to page thirty-three. Hmm. Let’s see. Sano Kazuyuki”

“Yes!” He stood up at attention.

“Could you start us off?”

“Yes!” He cleared his throat and began reading the English extract. “During the first part of your life, you only become aware of happiness once you have lost it. Then an age comes, a second one, in which you already know, at the moment when you begin to experience true happiness, that you are, at the end of the day, going to lose it.”

“That’s enough, thank you. Next, Yoshida Hibiki.”

“Yes!”

The bell rang, signifying the end of the day. As the screeching sound of the chairs and the loud footsteps flooded the classroom, Fuyumi packed her things away. She remembered that she had borrowed Kazuyuki’s pen, but when she turned around, a loud and thunderous voice interrupted her. “Sano-kun. Could I have a minute?”

“Sure.”

She watched as Kazuyuki walked past her and went to the front of the class. Too nervous to go up to him, she decided to put the pen in her bag and give it to him tomorrow.

Kazuyuki cautiously approached the front of the classroom. With each step he took, it felt like he was climbing uphill; he wondered why he was called upon. There was a persistent grip tightening around his neck with each passing moment. His heart raced like a wild stallion, thudding against his ribcage as if desperate for escape. Every breath felt shallow, as if the air around him had turned thin and suffocating. Thoughts spun in a chaotic whirlwind, a storm of doubts and insecurities racing around in his mind. Yet, when he came face-to-face with the tall, bearded man, there was something in his face that made one trust him at once.

“Sano Kazuyuki, written with the kanji for peace and the kanji for snow. As one of the top students in the class, you got high scores in English and science in your recent tests. I assume mathematics is not your strong suit.”

Kazuyuki still felt a little anxious, but he told himself that he was simply overthinking the situation like usual.

“You are also secretly a novelist.”

Kazuyuki looked up in surprise; his eyes widened as he could not believe the words that came out of his teacher’s mouth.

“Oh, you thought I wouldn’t find out your secret passion, huh?”

“H-how did you…”

“Your name was familiar to me, so I did some research and found a short novel titled ‘Bucket List’. It was widely acclaimed for its simplicity yet emotional and relatable plot. But after that, the boy wonder never wrote another story again. Why?” 

His secret now out in the open, he couldn’t help but answer, “I just stopped.”

“But your first novel was a success. You could have made a career out of it.”

“I just decided to stop, okay?” He covered his mouth after realising he had raised his voice in front of a teacher. “I’m very sorry.”

“No. I apologise. I shouldn’t have interrogated you like that.”

“It’s just… I lost my passion for it. That’s why I stopped after one novel.” 

“I see. I understand. I was actually a well known author back in England.” He pulled out some books and placed them on the table. “I loved writing. It took up most of my days. Whenever they were published, I would run up to the local bookstore just to see them on display.”

“Wow.” He skimmed through each of the books.

“It was so much fun. But then I stopped.”

“Why?”

“There comes a time in a writer’s life when stories stop coming to them. And the stories that they did think of would be poorly received. Sometimes it’s best to get off the train before it reaches the end of its journey. But there was still potential that couldn’t be wasted. That’s why I moved to Japan and became a teacher. I hoped I could inspire the future generation to write stories that would entertain others. Have you ever had the urge to pick up the pen again and write?”

Kazuyuki stumbled on his response, unable to find the right words to answer the question.

“I have, but due to my responsibilities as a teacher, I haven’t spent much time working on them. A word of advice from one writer to another: don’t give up too soon. Just because the words aren’t coming to you now doesn’t mean they won’t in the future. If writing is what you want to do in the future, then pursue it.”

“I’m not sure if writing novels is what I want to do in the future.”

“Nevertheless, you should have a think about it.”

Sanderson-Sensei’s words lingered in his mind as if there was some sort of significance in them. Even during his walk home, the words of his teacher echoed in his mind like a chorus of haunting whispers, reverberating through the tight corridors of his mind.

When he got home, he decided to take out his book from the bookshelf in his bedroom. Nostalgia hit him as he reminisced about the period when he wrote it. He remembered how immersed he was in the elegant dance of imagination and storytelling. He remembered how, after every chapter, he would bask in the glow of satisfaction. He remembered how his mother congratulated him for his great work. And he would remember his deceased father’s disapproving gaze and the whips of scorn that were released from his mouth.

The memories became too much to bear, so Kazuyuki placed the book back. He noticed a collection of papers on top of his bookshelf. Using a chair to reach it, he took it from the top. It was a manuscript for another novel he had planned to write. A sense of dread overcame him, but as he walked up to the trash bin, he remembered Sanderson-Sensei’s words again. It was like the teacher had unlocked another personality in him that told him he would practically be throwing his life away. He placed them on his desk instead. He leaped onto his bed and hid under his blanket as if he were trying to hide from the words on the pages.