{Sato-san and the Japanese Teacher}

“Sato-san!”

A high-pitched voice I recognized echoed through the classroom during recess.

The classroom fell silent immediately, and everyone’s gaze focused on the seat next to me.

Sato-san seemed puzzled but stood up after a moment.

“Ah… Murakami-sensei.”

Standing at the classroom doorway was Murakami-sensei, the Japanese teacher.

Despite being small and thin, Murakami-sensei could produce a louder shouting voice than any other teacher in the school. She often interrupted classes when she got emotional, and I found her difficult to deal with.

The teacher appeared extremely displeased, glaring with a fierce expression.

And she was calling out to Sato-san.

Sato-san might have been startled. Though she stood up, she froze on the spot.

“Sato-san, come here for a moment!”

Murakami-sensei’s voice became sharp, and she called her again.

“Y-yes.”

Sato-san hurried out into the hallway, her anxious profile barely visible before I turned my eyes away from her retreating back.

I had a vague idea of what they might be discussing.

It was probably about the reading report from the other day.

Murakami-sensei had instructed the class to read a book at home and write a report about it.

Sato-san submitted her report just before the deadline, but she seemed unsure about it. She admitted that she didn’t know what to write, but telling me this after submission was not helpful if she hadn’t consulted me beforehand.

From the hallway, Murakami-sensei’s high-pitched voice was audible.

I deliberately averted my attention to avoid hearing it. Teacher scolding is unpleasant even if it’s not directed at me. I wished it could happen somewhere else.

Despite my efforts to block it out, Sato-san’s anxious profile kept appearing in my mind.

She was probably getting a lecture without making any excuses.

And afterward, she would likely be made to revise her report, though I had never actually seen that happen, it seemed so clear in my mind.

Until a short while ago, I only had the impression of Sato-san as someone who always just smiled.

She seemed to always be smiling, whether she was with friends during recess or talking to me about trivial matters. Even when she was spacing out, she seemed to be smiling with a simple, happy expression, making her seem like she had no worries.

But that wasn’t the case.

Since sitting next to her, I’ve come to see various expressions on Sato-san’s face.

The face she made when she was called on in class and turned red without being able to answer, the apologetic look when she inconvenienced me, the pained expression during the marathon, and the anxious face I saw earlier.

Each of these left a stronger impression on my memory than her smiling face.

It was strange.

After seeing Sato-san’s non-smiling expressions, I always felt regretful, with a strangely bitter, unpleasant feeling.

I began to think I should have done something before it got to this point.

It felt hypocritical.

After about five minutes, Sato-san returned to the classroom.

Her classmates’ gazes were generally sympathetic, but she came back to her seat with a weary expression. She pulled out her chair, sat down with a thud, and sighed.

She glanced over at me, and our eyes met, making me flustered.

“…Is something wrong, Yamaguchi-kun?”

Sato-san asked with a puzzled tone.

Her voice sounded like usual. However, her expression hadn’t returned to her usual smile. Her lips only slightly curved upward, giving a somewhat awkward smile.

“Uh, no, nothing…”

I hesitated at first.

But after confirming that the attention of my classmates was shifting away, I decided to ask. I was definitely curious.

“Was Murakami-sensei angry?”

“Yeah, a little.”

The next expression she showed was a genuine wry smile.

“She said the reading report from the other day was completely inadequate.”

— As I thought.

Bitter thoughts resurfaced, and I silently pressed my lips together.

“She told me to stay after school today and rewrite it for resubmission. Apparently, I’m the only one in the class who has to resubmit.”

Her hair, tilted slightly to one side, fell smoothly from her shoulder.

I knew her hair was very soft to the touch. I knew that from being next to her.

Sitting next to someone naturally leads to knowing various things about them. Perhaps that’s why I felt sympathy. It’s also why I couldn’t just pretend not to notice.

“I knew it wasn’t good, and I didn’t fill even half of the manuscript paper,” Sato-san said with a distressed smile.

“But even so, to be treated like that…”

I found myself speaking without thinking.

Sato-san’s poor performance wasn’t new. Even if her report wasn’t well-written, there was no need to scold her in front of everyone.

If she was the only one who had to resubmit, it would be better to inform her privately.

But Sato-san shook her head.

“I know it’s my fault… I’m just glad I got a chance to revise it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They say it’s a good thing to be scolded while you can. I don’t know if it will work out, but I’ll do my best.”

“…I see.”

Resting my chin on my hand, I felt a frustrating sense of indecision.

It was bitter. I was frustrated with myself for not being able to do anything. Even though Sato-san was right next to me feeling down, I didn’t know what to do or what I wanted to do.

“I have to do my best, don’t I?”

Sato-san murmured to herself, as if reminding herself.

How should I interpret this?

Even if she’s the one involved, she probably wouldn’t like being pitied. My own feelings of irritation with Murakami-sensei and how unfairly I thought she treated her were just my own emotions.

Maybe it would have been better if I had offered to help her.

But if I did, it would probably just be sympathy or hypocrisy.