“Yes.”
Mr. Igasaki was always asking me to help him with things. That day, too, when Shizuka said goodbye a little jealously, I was again left alone in the classroom with him.
“You’re doing so much better at social studies now, Natsuki,” Mr. Igasaki said.
“Yes,” I said and nodded. I really wanted to improve my capability as a “work tool,” so I was studying hard.
He stroked my head. Even after he removed his hand, my skin still prickled under my hair.
“Your posture is really bad, Natsuki,” he said. His hand came up inside the hem of my shirt and rubbed my back directly on my skin. “See, that’s how you sit up straight. If you don’t do that, you’ll end up getting stiff shoulders, you know.”
“Yes.” I stretched my back as much as I could trying to get away from his hand.
“There, that’s much better. Now hold your belly button in too.” His hand started moving around to the front, and I hastily twisted my body away. “What’s wrong? I’m trying to teach you how to have a good posture, right? I can’t do that unless you behave.”
“Yes.”
His hand brushed over my bra. I sat rigidly upright not saying anything.
“There, that’s better.”
Finally he took his hand away, but the tension didn’t leave my body.
I was just leaving to go home when he said, “Natsuki, you know, you should wear white knickers, not dark pink ones. Boys shouldn’t see them, and they shouldn’t show through your clothes either.”
“Okay.”
I picked up my bag and pedaled my bicycle as fast as I could to get home.
Mr. Igasaki often warned me about the color of my underwear. That’s why I wore a black shirt, but it seemed that still wasn’t good enough.
It’s really hard to put into words things that are just a little bit not okay.
I had the feeling that Mr. Igasaki was a little bit not okay.
I’d been in his class since going up to the fifth grade and starting the regular course at the cram school, and he’d always been like that.
But maybe I was imagining it. It was unlikely anyone as good-looking as him would be interested in an elementary schoolgirl like me. I was probably just being uptight.
I caught sight of someone waving as I sped along on my bicycle.
When I looked closer, I saw that it was Miss Shinozuka, my homeroom teacher.
“Good evening, Miss Shinozuka.”
“Oh, Natsuki, how come you’re out so late?”
“I’m on my way home from cram school.”
“Oh, I suppose that’s okay, then.”
Miss Shinozuka was middle-aged, and everyone called her the Raving Mad Hag because her chin jutted out and she was always getting hysterical and going on and on. She was a bit like my sister in the way everyone laughed at her behind her back.
“Oh, and by the way, Natsuki, I’ve just been doing the grading, and you did really well on the last test.”
“I did? Really?”
“You never used to be very good at arithmetic, did you? But you did very well this time.”
I was pleased. Miss Shinozuka might be prone to hysterical outbursts, but when you got good marks she was really kind.
“You’re slow doing sums, but if you just take your time and avoid making silly mistakes, your marks will improve, you know.”
“Thank you, Miss Shinozuka!”
Miss Shinozuka rarely got thanked by pupils. When I thanked her so eagerly she responded cheerfully, “Being studious is a good thing, you know.”
I had never been given any affirmation at home, so I was hungry for praise. When I was complimented, even on a whim by a hysterical teacher, my chest grew hot, and for some reason I felt like crying.
I wanted to study harder and become the sort of child that grown-ups found useful. Then, even if I was worthless, maybe I wouldn’t be thrown out. I didn’t know how to live in the wild, so if I was kicked out I would inevitably die of hunger.
“I’ll try even harder!” I said fervently.
Miss Shinozuka looked a bit taken aback. “Well, yes, it is good to try your best,” she said and then waved goodbye. “You take care now.”
Everyone also called Miss Shinozuka an ugly old spinster who’d missed the boat. There was a rumor that she fancied Mr. Akimoto, the sports teacher—as if he would take interest in someone like her, they sneered.
Grown-ups had it tough, too, I thought. Miss Shinozuka functioned well enough as one of society’s tools, but maybe she wasn’t functioning properly as one of society’s reproductive organs.
She was in the position of educating me and ruled over me, but at the same time she herself was also being judged as a tool of society. But at least once you were able to buy food for yourself, you didn’t need to worry about being thrown away.
I set off for home once again. In my bag I had a new homework printout. I wanted to finish it quickly, study harder, and get closer to being once of society’s components.
I sat in my bedroom looking at the calendar. Today was the last day of summer vacation. On the calendar I’d noted “347 days to go.”
Only eighteen days had passed since we’d welcomed the ancestors for Obon. I wouldn’t be able to see Yuu again for 347 days.
Our love kept me going. When I thought of the bond between us, it was as though I was anesthetized. I didn’t feel any pain.
I wished I were an alien, like Yuu. Yuu and I were the same in that we were both living as parasites on our families, but I couldn’t even say I was an alien.
I sat down at my desk and started studying. I wanted to be able to buy my own food as soon as possible. To achieve that aim I would do whatever society required of me.
When I went through to the living room, Mom looked exhausted.
“Mom, shall I make dinner tonight?”
“No,” she answered without even turning around. “Don’t go poking your nose in where you’re not wanted.”
“But you look so tired. We learned how to make curry at—”
“I said no. If you start meddling, you’ll just end up making more work for me. Try and be a good girl now.”
She was right. I was being pushy. From my family’s perspective I was worthless, so it was presumptuous of me to try to do anything positive. It took all my effort just to remain at my zero level without becoming a minus.
“You’re always the same, all talk, even though you can’t do anything.”