Max (Before) - A Little Bit of Hope
I[1] have one colleague: the Japanese language teacher, Kuni[2].
She has a tendency to make a show of her faults, but she's a fundamentally good teacher -- both as an example of what not to do, and as a normal teacher.
Right now, Kuni is on a long rant. We've been informed that the English language teacher was killed[11] in a Kegai attack. It's a common occurrence, so I paid it no mind, but then Kuni lashed out at me, seeming to have taken offense at that.
"Don't you understand, Max-sensei? You and I are this school's only teachers now!"
Max -- that's my surname.
"That is a problem," I respond, and she goes on to rant about the government[6], the Kegai, the educational system[7], and the students' lack of enthusiasm[8]. It's impressive how many things she has to complain about.
It's safe to assume she's dissatisfied with everything about the status quo. That is, she wishes to make things better than they currently are. What a wonderful teacher she is. She deserves all the praise in the world. But I wish she'd stop venting her frustrations onto me. Good grief...
I make some arbitrary excuse and get up from my chair. The word processor does require maintenance, and I do intend to work on it, so I'm sure she understands.
Looking out the window, I notice Sawada-kun[3], one of our students, playing baseball by himself. He's quite dexterous.
Looking away from him, I see a reflection of myself -- of a face that doesn't look Japanese at all. Despite having lived in Japan longer than anywhere else, I am neither Japanese nor have I been recognized as such by Japan itself.
What an unpleasant feeling. I likely will be treated as a foreigner for the rest of my life. Accepted by no one. Belonging to nowhere...
It's painful to no longer have a home country[9].
I start working on the word processor. Fortunately, all I need is to replace the power supply, which is not a difficult task. Still, I'm using low-cost parts, so it may very well break again. Can't do much better than this, though; expensive parts are hard to come by. The manufacturing plant was attacked by the Kegai, and there is no telling when it would be in working order again.
The only silver lining here is that I was able to confirm that the integrated circuit I used for my daughter was a high-quality one.
Some of the teenage girls are making a fuss, discussing among themselves what they think of me. It's as if they think I'm a movie actor. I feel like lecturing them, reminding them that kids their age should to be more modest. I know that if I do it, though, they'll start squealing in delight, which is the opposite of the intended effect.
Good grief... Is that how they should treat one of their teachers?
With that thought in mind, I realize that, surprisingly enough, I love my job as a teacher. What a strange feeling.
／＊／
Back at home, I tell my daughter[4] about that realization, and in response, she asks if it is not natural for a teacher to love teaching.
Indeed, perhaps that's how it's supposed to be. Following that, I burst out laughing for the first time in two years.
As I laugh, my daughter looks on with interest as she knits strips of cloth. She knits a lot -- close to 12 meters' worth of fabric a day, it feels like. I taught her because it was my late sister's hobby, but perhaps due to the way she learns things, she ended up focusing solely on doing it quickly. Her patterns are... disastrous, let's just say. I can't point that out to her, though, because I know if I do, she'll incinerate her work immediately.
I watch my daughter knit a separate strip of cloth in each hand, and at the same time, I think about the future. Not of big things like my home country or Japan, but of myself and my daughter.
What will happen to my daughter when I am longer in this world? My heart aches just thinking about it. I need someone I can entrust my daughter to. Someone who will befriend this modest but peculiar girl -- ideally someone selfless, much younger than me, and with a strong affinity for technology.
I pick up my work that I have brought home: a stack of documents and an electronic organizer[10] in which I store my notes. I'm technically not allowed to do this, but the school won't survive if we teachers adhere to all of the rules. I've mailed requests for more staff, but they've all gone unfulfilled.
As a result, it has become common practice to take work documents home. What a pain.
My daughter asks me if I want a shoulder massage. Looks like she still believes that it helps me feel better. As endearing as that is, it makes me even more concerned about her future. I really need to find someone to look after her soon.
I flip through the documents. Looks like a new student[5] will be arriving soon. Going by his records, he's so academically gifted that I can't believe he's only 2 years old[12].
Hmm? 2 years old?
I take another look at the document. Still says "2 years old." No educational background. Never attended elementary school. Indeed, this is the background one would expect from a two-year-old. Except for the part about him transferring to a high school, that is.
I wonder what kind of child prodigy he is, but then I see his picture showing him to be a normal high school student. Alright, I need to calm down and drink some coffee substitute. The most likely explanation is that it's a printing error. He's not 2 years old, but rather 16 or 17. It just makes sense.
I feel ashamed that I got excited, even if just for a moment. My daughter is roasting dandelion roots to make more coffee substitute -- I'm glad she didn't see my face just now. A two-year-old child prodigy would have been the ideal candidate to entrust my daughter to, though... Well, perhaps a high school-aged boy would suffice too, as long as he meets the criteria.
Let's take another careful look at this.
As far as I can tell, he doesn't look very Japanese, so he's bound to be lonely here, just like me. In which case... he would make a good conversation partner for my daughter, wouldn't he?
In recent years, I haven't had much to look forward to in the near future. But now, I'm looking over the document again with a little bit of hope. Then, realizing that I'm mixing work and personal matters, I heave a sigh. I need to discipline myself better.
===
Chapter 3 Character Profiles
↩[1] Max (Baldur Max)
Science and mathematics teacher.
He's German, despite his English surname.
First-person pronouns used: Boku (at school), Watashi (at home)
↩[2] Kuni (Kunie Enan)
Japanese language teacher.
Known as a "problem teacher" behind the scenes.
Despite her motivation, she lacks effective teaching skills. Unfortunately, those like her aren't uncommon in this era.
First-person pronoun used: Watashi
Additional Notes: Max's colleague. Max is the only one who evaluates her positively. Most other people consider her motivated but disappointingly unskilled. Max is not a good judge of character.
↩[3] Saru (Kunihiko Sawada)
Member of the baseball club. Quite good at looking after others.
When he was in elementary school, he was called "Saru" or "Saruda" because of his tree-climbing skills, and sometimes he is still called by those nicknames.
He is not keen on studying because he wants to find a job to ease the burdens of his widowed mother.
↩[4] Machina (Hazuchi-Machina Rothborden)
A comically clumsy character. Often claims to be a refined young lady at home.
Additional Notes: According to Max, she is a "modest but peculiar girl." Max is not a good judge of character. Not at all.
↩[5] Transfer Student
Considered the sole survivor of the space station incident.
Officially transferring in September, but he'll also take supplementary classes during summer vacation.
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Chapter 3 Footnotes
↩[6] Government
Specifically refers to the government of Japan.
Not particularly successful at taking measures against the Kegai. Performing especially poorly in dealing with the outbreaks in the recent years.
GDP growth rate is -50% compared to the previous decade. Taking enough damage to put the country at risk of collapse.
↩[7] Educational System
Breaking down along with the healthcare system due to the high number of recent Kegai attacks.
↩[8] Students' Lack of Enthusiasm
Kuni is partially responsible for this.
In contrast, most students seem enthusiastic enough while in Max's classes.
↩[9] Home Country
Following the Kegai outbreak, Northern Europe was the first region to fall, followed by Eastern Europe then Western Europe.
↩[10] Electronic Organizer
In-story, there has not yet been a model so popular that it became THE electronic organizer, and no relevant manufacturers have entered the market yet, either.
Derived from scientific calculators, electronic organizers have many functions such as memo and telephone directories. Supports approximately 3,000 Japanese characters of input data.
At one point, someone pretended it was a calculator and used it to cheat on a university exam, but their designs quickly evolved to be more distinguishable.
↩[11] "The English language teacher was killed"
Pronounced dead following a Kegai attack.
Encountered a Kegai while commuting to work from the neighboring city, and died in the resulting traffic accident.
↩[12] "2 Years Old"
The age of the transfer student, as shown on the document.
Actually not an error, but rather the correct number of years since his citizenship registration on Earth.
Time aboard the Hope International Space Station progresses at a much faster rate compared to Earth.
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