Thanks to Meerkat for helping with the translation
The One Who Was Saved
“Ah, please wait, Inukichi! Don’t pull so hard—”
My body is dragged along by the leash being pulled with such vigor. Recently, perhaps because I’ve been enthusiastically accompanying him on walks, Inukichi is in exceptionally good spirits. His energy is remarkably high today as well.
The Sanjoji family has always kept Golden Retrievers as pets. Inukichi’s predecessor was Inuzuna, and before that was Inuyasu. For generations, they’ve been guardians watching over me since I was still a child, but Inukichi is quite the spoiled one and has caused me considerable trouble. What they all have in common, however, is that they’re incredibly smart, kind-hearted, and above all, indispensable members of the family.
Perhaps worried about me, Inukichi comes back wagging his tail. It’s a mysterious sensation, as if our hearts are truly connected. I can understand why dogs are called companion animals.
[Woof woof?]
“Eh? I’m still perfectly fine. I need to build up my stamina, after all.”
I flex my arm to show off, striking a pose. It’s purely for show, of course. I don’t have much muscle, and even though I’m wearing lightweight sportswear, there’s no way my upper arms would be visible through the long sleeves.
Perhaps worried that I might be tired, Inukichi approaches and looks up at my face.
It’s strange how, even without shared language, you gradually come to understand each other.
When I gently pet Inukichi’s head, I’m soothed by the texture of his well-groomed, lustrous coat.
“Phew… The air feels different at this time of day.”
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air. The days have been swelteringly hot, but as we enter early autumn, I’ve been feeling more autumnal after the sun sets.
Inukichi seems to sense the changing seasons too—during summer he seemed reluctant, but since it’s gotten cooler, he eagerly anticipates our walking time. Such healthy behavior is endearing as well.
“Still, what cruel things people say.”
The other day, I reunited with a friend from university after a long time, but she told me that having pets delays marriage. I may be unmarried, but I don’t want to think Inukichi is the cause.
“Am I really aiming too high…?”
Feeling dejected, I’m consoled by Inukichi gently patting my knee with his paw. He seems to be comforting me. At this rate, I’ll become one of those monsters online who do nothing but bash men.
I tried starting marriage hunting, but I can’t say it’s going well. Staff members suggest potential partners, but somehow I can’t get enthusiastic about any of them. I understand they match my specifications, but perhaps I have some resistance to such mechanical matching based solely on conditions.
Incidentally, when I first presented my conditions at the marriage consultation agency, the female staff member immediately recommended I withdraw. It ended in the dishonor of defeat before the battle even began, which was disappointing.
“But at this age, romance is…”
To truly love someone—I understand that it means harboring the same kind of pure affection I feel toward Inukichi. If that’s the case, it seems like quite a high hurdle. At least, if there were someone of the opposite sex who made me feel that way, it would be—
“Inukichi? It’s nothing. Come, shall we run?”
Just as I was about to fall into deep thought, Inukichi tugs at my hem.
“Let’s go. Shall we have a race for once? I won’t lose!”
As if understanding, Inukichi dashes off, and I chase after his back.
—Pretending not to notice my hidden feelings.
“Ugh. Muscle pain… I overdid it.”
The race with Inukichi naturally ended in my crushing defeat, but it was surprisingly fun. However, I’m exhausted.
After finishing our walk and returning home, I shower to wash away the sweat. After carefully washing my hair and body and soaking in the bathtub, I surrender to the sensation of fatigue melting away from my entire body.
Though endless muscle pain assaults me, my mood feels refreshed from the physical activity.
“…Since we ran, I’ll have some grapes afterward.”
I bought them specifically to eat after my bath. Though no one is particularly listening, I still find myself making childish excuses. The autumn of appetite is truly full of temptations.
I’ve always been the one walking Inukichi, but recently I’ve increased both the frequency and duration. It’s part of building up my physical strength. The upcoming sports festival includes events where teachers participate. The students are the main characters, but as an adult, I can’t afford to show an unseemly appearance.
“Though that’s just an excuse…”
I knew it. What had changed was my approach. If it were me from last year, I never would have thought to build physical strength for the sports festival. I would have stepped back and simply observed.
Standing on the sidelines amidst the commotion, just being there as an outsider—that’s my position.
I couldn’t enjoy it. Now I understand. What I was unconsciously avoiding.
Because it was a path I chose as an escape. I fled from being an elementary school teacher, but having no other options, I had no choice but to return to teaching. It was the only thing I could cling to. People often say human potential is limitless, but that’s not actually true.
Possibilities narrow with age, and paths don’t open for those who don’t challenge themselves.
I had nothing, continuing to avert my eyes from reality. Afraid of stealing the children’s futures, I chose to face high school students where self-responsibility applies, trying to protect my petty pride and identity as a teacher. I lived putting on airs for appearance’s sake.
So superficial. Utterly so. In the end, I’m just dressed up in the costume of “teacher.”
Without purpose, the passion I once held extinguished, what remains is nothing but ugly self-preservation masquerading as an educator.
Struggling just to protect myself, maintaining only appearances. I’m disgusted with such a version of myself.
Disappointment in myself for breaking so easily.
At this age, I’ve come to understand something. Living your own life means making your own choices. Because my parents said this, because everyone around me says that—the fragility of someone who has lived at the mercy of such influences. I aimed to become a teacher because the Sanjoji family has been educators for generations.
But was that truly a choice I desired from my heart? The answer is no.
Taking responsibility for your own choices—living without knowing the importance of this, what could I possibly teach my students? If it’s a path you’ve chosen yourself, even if the results don’t go well, it becomes the strength to endure. You can persevere. But I lacked such strength.
Continuing to flee from confrontation, lacking qualification, putting a lid on even thinking about my own life. Just closing my eyes and irresponsibly pretending not to see. What a boring life.
When I close my eyes, I remember. The possibility she showed me naturally makes my heart soar.
“Misaki-san looked so happy…”
I’ve seen her tears twice. The first time was unbearably cruel, painful, and cold. The second time was warm, overflowing with happiness. Her expressions were complete opposites. The first time she was crushed by despair, the second time she found hope and smiled. Enchantingly beautiful, noble, and precious.
Misaki-san respects me, but she’s far more admirable than I, who was merely in self-destructive despair. Her inner charm cannot be hidden. She stood up. From the darkness.
At least she will never stray from her path again. She radiates brilliant light.
“Elementary school would certainly be most suitable. With her being so attractive, the boys would have a hard time.”
If Misaki-san were to return to teaching, if it were middle or high school, surely many students would fall genuinely in love with her. —Even in elementary school, that was the case.
Moreover, the current Misaki-san is more beautiful than she was then. Even from the perspective of the same gender, she’s overwhelming.
“…Is this what they call ‘seriously in love’?”
I’m not very familiar with it, but recently I often hear the word ‘oshi’ as well. Being in a profession where I’m constantly in contact with young people, updating my knowledge is essential. This too is necessary effort.
“She seems completely smitten with him, though.”
The emotion Misaki-san directs toward him is special. There was nothing strange about that. After experiencing all that, anyone would feel the same. Instinct demands it. There’s no way to resist.
Transcending position, age, and all barriers, naturally embracing pure, innocent feelings.
“You saved Misaki-san… so then—”
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I cannot voice what comes next. The mental image dissipates.
In the past, all he could do was push away. That was his only way to resist the absurd.
But facing any reality, continuing to grow within infinite possibilities, he surpassed his limits, became stronger than anyone, and with brilliantly skillful means, this time he saved her.
Literally everything. In a way no one else could imitate. Not just Misaki-san.
The current him extends his hand to everyone around him. That hand, warm like a sunny spot.
“Such a broad back… Back then, it was so small.”
I’m relieved that he hasn’t lost his kindness. I nearly stole that from him. An unforgivable mistake. What he might accomplish in the future, the many people he might save—I almost nipped that bud. A freezing shiver runs through me. Truly terrifying.
Even I think it’s a strange relationship. It wouldn’t be odd if he resented me. When the only thing permitted to me should be quiet condemnation as a loathsome memory.
I thought he was a cold boy. But when we reunited, he had become a very generous and cheerful young man. Even back then his heart was strong enough, but now it’s very supple and flexible.
After making mistakes and Misaki-san leaving, I remained deluded.
So I repeated the same failures many times after that. I was desperate to break through the situation.
When fights broke out in class, I’d force both parties to apologize and make up, declaring it mutual fault.
I believed such simplistic methods were correct. Without understanding the emotional subtleties that children naturally possess. In my exhaustion, I had no room for flexibility. There’s no way that grudges would be resolved through reluctant apologies. I should have known that better than anyone.
That’s why he never acknowledged me until the end. Without joining the class circle, he spent the year alone as an outsider. Looking bored. That was probably actually the case.
Eventually, I accepted that situation too. If we didn’t interact, there would be no further hurt. Looking back now, perhaps he deliberately put himself in that position to avoid conflict with anyone. In fact, though fearfully, a temporary peace continued.
“Around someone who avoided people so much, there are now so many people…”
Before I know it, I realize I’m among them too.
The current him doesn’t try to push away his surroundings, but rather achieves his goals by drawing closer.
“May I also take your hand?”
Let me honestly admit it. This is jealousy. I’m jealous of Misaki-san.
If you saved Misaki-san, if you make those around you happy, perhaps I could be included in that. Maybe I’m permitted to reach for the happiness I’d given up on in self-destructive despair. In whatever form, if it’s you, if it’s Kokonoe-kun—
“…I’m envious.”
I press my chest as if to calm my racing heartbeat.
To shake off my shackles and live freely, I’ve grown too old. I’m too late to seek freedom.
Acting on whim, following these emotions—there’s no way I could do such a thing.
The heavy weight of my title dulls my thinking. Teachers were once called clergy.
Though the mainstream view now is that of laborers, remnants remain. The conflict between “teacher as clergy” and “teacher as laborer” theories. I have no particular interest and don’t intend to arrogantly assume I’m clergy. However, it’s also true that it’s a special profession worthy of being called clergy.
Cowardly and lacking courage. Unable to step forward, I can’t be found by anyone.
Because I’ve never chosen my own life for myself.
“Then… then where is my happiness?”
I know it’s selfish. But I can’t help asking.
I lower myself, soaking up to my shoulders in the hot water. Ah, how unseemly.
Because I, Sanjoji Ryoka, am first a human being and a woman before being a teacher. Swaying between emotion and reason. Ordinary people cannot become superhuman.
Happiness that will never be found in the daily routine of simply passing days.
Can I find it too?
Seeking happiness as it is. And if I were to find it, could I too display the pure, innocent smile that everyone would be entranced by, just as Misaki-san showed?
I cannot suppress my yearning. Even understanding what this feeling is—no, precisely because I understand it, I won’t put it into words. There’s no way I should. Something that should be sealed until death.
It’s an invitation from the ordinary to the extraordinary. What awaits beyond that step is harsh reality filled with thorns that will only bring wounds. Even so, I find my role as a mere observer frustrating.
Emotion is denied by reason. Cowardly as I am, I pretend not to see and flee again. And then I’m disappointed in myself once more. Hesitating and cowering at crucial moments. Envying unattainable ideals.
“…Let’s get out. Any longer and I’ll get overheated.”
I stand up from the bathtub. In my line of sight is a mirror. I should be reflected there.
But in the mirror fogged with steam, nothing can be seen. It feels like it represents my state of mind. It can hardly be called a clear heart-mirror. Without wiping it clean, I leave the bathroom.
I sigh in relief. I’m glad I didn’t have to see.
—Because surely my expression right now would be something very ugly.
“Is it already this late? I should sleep soon.”
There’s school tomorrow. I’m already tired from using up physical energy. I can’t carry fatigue into the next day. I close the album I had open and put it away on the shelf.
What I was looking at was a graduation album. From when I was an elementary school homeroom teacher.
For me, it wasn’t a record of memories leading to graduation. It’s a vivid record of how I, a foolish human being, led one class to collapse. He’s not in the photos. Because he refused to be photographed. The students’ expressions are uniformly dark. Compared to other classes, the difference is obvious at a glance.
This is what I did. I carve it into my heart to never forget.
Photos lacking smiles. I was the one who stole them. Days spent unable to do anything.
At some point, I began opening it regularly. As a warning, that incomplete album.
Come to think of it, perhaps my heart also broke at this time. Remaining unfulfilled, I’ve been searching for those missing fragments that could never be found. No matter how meaningless it might be.
I turn off the lights with a click and get into bed. The sleepiness that immediately attacks me feels pleasant.
As if resisting the urge to sleep, I reach for my phone. Though it’s not good before bed, perhaps constantly opening phones is a modern affliction.
“A message? Who could it be from…?”
A message had arrived on the locked and neglected SNS account. In such cases, it’s usually just spam, but I should at least check. I look at the icon with a suspicious expression.
I haven’t deleted unused accounts in order to increase my knowledge and sensitivity about troubles that occur online. I never intended to interact with faceless strangers anyway.
When I tap it, two images are attached with barely a line of text displayed.
“Eh?”
I freeze, unable to immediately understand what it means.
My fingertips tremble. Before I know it, I’m biting my lip.
[Immoral Teacher]
With just that text, there were attached images of me entering a love hotel with a student. And that partner was—undoubtedly him, Kokonoe Yukito-kun.
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