Something smells fishy

Brace for impact (part 2)

'So first I will pass this toilet paper roll to each one of you and you'll have to get as much paper as you need, ahem,you know--' I faked a cough and chuckled into the face of my palm.

The girls turned red at the predicament flapping in front of their eyes, while the boys started to rip at the roll relentlessly. I watched them go at it with a mischievous grin for they had no idea what awaited them.

As soon as everybody was done with fooling around, the toilet roll finely landed in Miyu's small hands. She handed it to me but instead of taking it, I silently nodded in her direction, encouraging her to participate in the game by taking a few squares of paper for herself.

Her perfect smooth forehead wrinkled in disapproval but with all the students watching her like hawks, there wasn't any way to wiggle her way out of this. She surrendered under the relentless guard of twenty eight pairs of eyes and I mentally thumped my chest like Tarzan to celebrate my little win.

'Now for the rules everyone,' my face shifted from playful to serious in the blink of an eye and I continued in a deep, husky voice, 'there are rules you know.'

The boys didn't look as happy anymore, while the girls sighed in relief that this wasn't to be some silly activity like mummy wrapping.

'Today we are practicing making questions. For each square of toilet paper that you have, each one of you will have to formulate a question and address it to anyone in this classroom.'

Some faces have turned to mush as I finished explaining the rules of the game. Asking questions and interacting with each other was one of the hardest activities for Japanese kids. As a teacher I wanted to work on that and help them break through the invisible walls that their culture has set up for them. Because they could. Because they wanted to. Because I cared.

'Don't do that. Come on! It isn't that hard, you can ask about anything — likes, dislikes, names, age, school, grade, birthday, favourite game, or food, or TV show. Anything!'

Their faces still looked dispassionate, just like Miyu's, who decided to not help at all and just stood in the corner while I took the heat. I bet she was celebrating inside at the sight of my imminent defeat.

I spotted Keita, trickster of the year and ultimate daikon, two-in-one, flashing his slightly crooked teeth to our miss popularity, Manaka.

'Perfect,' I exclaimed, 'I see we've got volunteers here.'

I swiftly made my way between the desks to face my first victims. Keita feigned unawareness and kept blinking at me, raising his arms as if he didn't understand what was about to happen.

The boy was an idol waiting to happen. With his daring bleached blonde hair and almost feminine features, I didn't call him daikon for nothing, which was the slang term for the most handsome specimens of the male population of Japan only. Oh and white radish, but Keita was obviously no vegetable.

'Yeah, you, stand up Keita. How many squares of paper do you have?'

He went on to count them in Japanese.

'Come on, you can do better than that! In English, how many?' I asked.

'Ten,' he shrugged his frail shoulders relaxing onto the back of the seat.

'Cocky, huh, let's see just how cocky you'll be while you ask Manaka ten questions. Stand up, mister!'

He wasn't having it. He pushed himself up and leisurely tucked his hands into his pockets while throwing glimpses and grins at Manaka. The girl wasn't shy at all at sixteen. She managed to even give him a wink in between smiling arrogantly at the other girls.

'Come on, Keita, we're not here to marry the two of you, just to find out more about you.'

I showed him the countdown and upon reaching zero, I declared 'GO!'

Finally he decided to speak. In his leisurely style, he muttered 'how old are you?'

'I'm fifteen years old,' Manaka answered gloriously while straitening her back. It was her moment to shine and she was enjoying every second of it.

'What food do you like?'

'I like salad,' she gleed as she went through the answers one by one as if this was some kind of pageant.

***

'And done,' I declared and the kids laughed happily at the last pair of answers.

Miyu was still behind the desk, watching me as I returned to her side.

'And now it's Miyu sensei's turn everyone,' I clapped my hands putting an end to the awkward silent treatment she gave me during the lesson.

'Miyu sensei gets to ask Amy sensei...um...three questions!'

The moment she forcefully smiled at me, I thought maybe this whole plan was a bad idea after all. I got the fierce Miyu today. She was ready to bite and did not show any hesitation as she asked her first question.

'Do you have a boyfriend Amy sensei?'

'Oooooooo!' all of our students exclaimed at the bold question.

I was expecting many things when I started this game of wills, but I definitely wasn't ready for a bomb the size of Jupiter to be thrown onto me in front of twenty eight raging teenagers.

I cleared my throat and with all the poise I could muster in that moment, I answered a clear 'no.'

'Do you like anybody then?' she continued her relentless interrogation.

'Yes,' I answered shortly.

As everybody laughed and clapped and gasped in the background, Miyu clearly felt lost for words. She bit hard on her lip and went on to her last question.

'Do you like melon bread?'

The students booed us in disappointment, but I knew what exactly she was asking. Melon bread was the staple bread of their bakery, it was Shiro's bread.

This time I wasn't going to run away. We had to clear the air.

'I do...very much,' I answered without breaking our eye contact.

She blinked hard a few times before facing the still rowdy class.

'Good job everyone, now --,' she addressed the students when I interrupted her.

'My turn!' I said showing her the crumpled piece of toilet paper hidden in my fist.

I had just one question for her. It was something that kept nagging at me from the depths of my heart, a strange feeling that made my heart squeeze and become the size of a flee. It was cowardly of me to avoid it. I was the coward and I manipulated her into this situation where I was about to extort this answer out of her.

'Do you —' I cleared my throat because I didn't like the insecurity in my own voice, 'do you have anybody you like Miyu sensei?'

The kids were back to ecstasy, as a collective giggle spread throughout the classroom.

I couldn't see her face, but her fists clenched and so did every other muscle in her body, her fitted jacket wrinkling slightly under the tension in her shoulders.

'Yes, I do,' she said loud and clear as she turned to face me.

The bell rang allowing the students to pour out of the classroom. Desks and chairs got pushed around, screeching against the wooden floor. The door kept opening and closing waiving good bye at the liberated students and the two frozen teachers standing in the middle of the room.

Brace for impact Amy. All hell is about to break loose.