Bad Faith

The day went as expected. The first subject was Japanese literature. I still can’t put my head around ‘The Dancing Girl of Izu’. I very much prefer ‘Kokoro’. I’m a simple-minded person, I guess one might say. Onto the next subject.

Mathematics went. Surprisingly, that’s my best subject. Shocking. One might think, with my mastery of the craft of thinking ludicrously and outlandish thoughts, that my favourite subject is Japanese. But… it’s not. I love mathematics. My affection for the field of mathematics is so strong, you could say it would be not far off a thousand kilos! I actually plan on being a banker. The career advisor told me I could be an actuary!

I don’t know what an actuary is. Sounds funny.

Anyways, fun fact - my school is very lucky. We have a large cafeteria! I know most of you would be jealous to hear. Most students eat in the cafeteria or hang outside. Rarely do people eat in their homerooms.

I preferred a mixture. I ate wherever I wanted to. If someone invited me? I’d eat in the cafeteria. Usually, however, I hung outside by the trees next to a building known as Block D. Block D was the newest building. It was where the most of the third-year homerooms were. Also, social sciences were based here. Your typical glass western-style office building. Block D stood out from the concrete blocks that made the school complex. There was a nickname the students gave to it. The Big Glass. Get it? The Big Class?

Yeah. It’s frankly stupid.

It did catch on and, well, even the staff members used it. All of this is just a long-winded way of saying it was lunchtime and I was outside sitting on my own next to trees.

Did I at least make it seem entertaining? Would you agree?

As I bite into my mom’s homemade bento (yes… I know), I pondered many deep philosophical questions. What is the essence of everything? Is chance real or is everything predetermined? Tits or ass?

After my intrusive thought killed any façade of introspection - I admired the scenery. The strangely deep blue sky was mixed with whiskers of clouds as if someone vaped. For context, there is a huge vaping boom in my school. Sadly, that was the first metaphor that came to mind. The trees that overlooked the fields like a soldier. Yeah. It’s no wonder why I don’t do well in Japanese.

I was greeted with a familiar face. Kenji Takahashi. He was a good friend from middle school, alongside another person called Yusuke Okawa. Yusuke’s in my class still. We bonded over great things like AV and manga! Yeah… kinda sad. Since then, we’ve both moved on but still talk with each other on an on-sight basis. You know - we don’t do any meetups outside, but we can talk in school. Frankly, most friendships in school were to avoid the awkwardness of being lonely… but I still appreciate Kenji.

“What’s up Kenji?”

“You on your own again?”

“What do you think? Look around.”

“Mind if I sat?”

Sure. Why not? I hate being lonely. I had to make certain that what I said didn’t betray my true thoughts of not wanting to be isolated.

“Be my guest.”

“Sorry for disturbing then! I’ll take my seat.”

Kenji had quite a deep voice. He was a beautiful man. Yep. I’m not insecure about myself to not say it how it is. He also was slightly shorter than me, but he was built. The glasses he wore masked the fact that he could probably kill you in a few hits. At the very least he could kill me.

Our conversation was pleasant. He discussed how his class was. I didn’t even know he was now classmates with Nishi-chan! A member of Class C. Yeah, we exchanged a few crude jokes involving pornography addiction, perhaps one involving his classmate Kaede. Kenji could be a bit twisted. We’re 16 but immaturity is not an excuse for really saying that about people we know. I know if Kaede heard us, she would be damning the two of us to suffering.

We only just started 2nd year today. Some classes changed, ours did not. Same people and everything. I sat there with my finished bento box. Kenji was nice company. Usually, I ate with Yusuke in the canteen, but he said he had commitments. I assume they were not really significant, but, hey! Who am I to judge? As the bell rang - it was time for English.

“It was nice talking to you again, Kenji.”

“It was my pleasure as well.”

Kenji stood up. He was honestly mesmerising. Perhaps I had a crush on him? Or maybe it’s because of the sheer disconnect with his meek face and bodybuilder stature. Whatever, it was time to separate our ways. Our conversation seemed like we were wise beyond our years, and we hadn’t seen each other in decades. As the April sun started to hit me - all I could think was getting straight to class. 

~~~

Lewis-sensei. He was our English teacher. He told us to call him Mr. Burton, but I think most of the class is insecure about their English pronunciation, so we don’t. I was in my normal seat. We always stayed in the same homeroom for English. For any other subject, we had to master the maze that is Aisaihashi High. The Big Glass is rather easy and navigable. Imagine the original buildings for Aisaihashi High as similar to Lewis and Clark’s expedition past the Mississippi. But only 1.5x harder.

They should’ve fired whoever was the Nagoya official that thought to accept this terrible plan. It is unbelievable how bad it is! Say you wanted to go do music. There are four music rooms dotted around the complex. Each one being located within a different wing of the building. Now imagine that for every department. Maths has 7 classrooms, only two of which are tight next to each other. IT and Computer Science has their computer labs split into three wings. It makes me so furious!

But enough of that! Our homeroom was the only place in the building that I could rely on actually entering on time. I sat staring at the window as Lewis-sensei was telling our class about life in the UK. You know - the tried tactic of getting your teachers to discuss anything except the work. Lewis-sensei was not a strict man. I’m sure he wanted us to enjoy school life, so he played along. He could probably see how futile it was teaching English to students who 99% were probably going to stay in Japan short of a war.

Knock on wood.

I chattered away with Tatsuya. Merrily.

“Tatsuya, say rural!”

“Ru-lal!”

“I think you might be saying it wrong.”

Tatsuya, lightly responded back:

“Yeah, well you’re a virgin loser with no money!”

Little does he know… I’m a virgin loser with 40000 yen to my name! Enough to buy… a switch? I’m not sure. Someone please check for me.

“You got lucky with her. I’m sure that will be your only experience in the next thirty years whilst I’ll be married working at Sony.”

“Working in Sony as a cleaner.”

“Better homeless than you.”

Saeka chimed in. “Can you two just stop!”

Not stereotypical at all. Tatsuya jokingly quipped.

“Well at least I’m not Saeka.”

He made a gesture… insinuating that Saeka was… high in kilos shall we say.

Saeka smacked him up. Two slaps to the back. I just know Tatsuya was hurt. The pain must be similar to when you lose your firstborn in a cruel way. Like a bike crash to a wedding. Or something worse. The thud was so loud that my tinnitus could not compete. Even Lewis-sensei had to come and ask Tatsuya if he’s alright. Afterwards, he then chastised him and warned to not insult a woman’s weight.

I wonder who let Tatsuya sleep with him? Oh wait.

The perpetrator of the assault.

They both like each other but not enough to call it official? Funny thing is, during the last day of 1st Year, I saw both of them on a bike towards Tatsuya’s house, all lovey dovey. I don’t want to imagine. Sadly, I suffer from hyperactivity and a keen sense of detail. I think you could even smell what I’m thinking. Apology. If you don’t suffer from synthesia, you might be lucky to not sense the scent.

But I can.

Anyways. Enough about that! The 22°C heat might be comfortable but clearly, it’s making me overthink! No coping whatsoever. Nope. No way. Nada. Zero. Time to focus on the work! Our two English periods essentially went as twenty minutes lesson, the rest just sheetwork and reading.

Did you know that the majority of English’s vocabulary is originally Latin or French? Not Germanic! That would be if the majority of Japanese vocabulary was based on Chinese!

Oh wait.

It might not be the majority but it’s certainly a significant amount.

So, what’s the point of bringing this up?

I think my point is that I’m trying to state that everything is influenced by everything. That loner - me? I seem to be the baseline to which the chattiest and most popular people in our class compared to. All I wanted was friends, but I also wanted to be on my own. It’s an inner conflict. Sometimes lessons do go like this. I go with the flow. I laugh at the jokes. I make jokes. Sometimes you feel like you lose a piece of yourself when hanging with people. Almost as if they take a piece of you and integrate it within themselves.

But this sense of self is not real. Look reader. I’ve watched enough pop philosophy videos by YouTubers to tell you that it doesn’t matter! I’ve had my eureka moment in first year. Everyone is you and you are everyone. We are all interconnected.

So why do I feel lonely in this very moment? It’s not like I’m jealous of the ‘couple’. Sayako is there with me alongside Yusuke. There are a few moments where I suffer from… zoning out. Like I’m spacing into a dimension not even a part of this universe. Nothing is real. You know, those sorts of feelings. Renewable negativity. I make a lot of terms up, but the honest truth is that I depersonalise. I stare deep into the board. My grip on the table was so firm I feel like it will shatter to pieces. Fleeting. In comparison, my own grip on reality was disappearing. How can I claim to have social refusal when I talk to people? I’m not authentic to my friends but worse of all:

I’m not authentic to myself.

How could anyone listen to me?

Red. Yellow. Blue.

Eyes. Classroom. Sky.

Upside down.

Tears.

I just want to go home. Nothing makes sense anymore. But I can’t anyways. Minetaka-sensei wants me to stay after school for a bit. I have to honour that. Probably.

“Honzo, you good?” Yusuke said.

“I’m… just tired. You know how English is.”

“Well, I know I’m sick and tired of your antics with Tatsuya.” He sternly replied.

“Ha. Fair point.”

And back to normal. Such is the frail foundation of reality itself. I can still joke about it. Humour was always my coping mechanism.

Sayako wanted to chime in next:

“Honzo, it’s okay. You don’t have to feel the need to respond to anyone.”

I get it Sayako. I appreciate it. I understand your sentiments. But a part of me feels you’re not sincere. She always had to look over me like a mother swan protecting her babies from the cruel environment. A mother complex. Nishi-chan could never!

“Alright Saya-chan.”

In a weary tone, she responded “Huh?”

“You don’t like the name?”

She blushed. Probably of embarrassment.

Fiddling with her hair, she jittered out the words “Well… it’s a nice name I guess?”

Good. You’re basically up there with Nishi-chan if you want to go by looks.

Saved by the bell. It interrupted a rather interesting tale from Lewis-sensei.