… … …
"Stop writing."
"Huh?"
Takamura silently watches me from across the room. Like a graceful bird, she pushes herself up from her chair with a quiet "squeak" and appears to my left.
"Hey? Sensei, what are you doing?"
She grabs my homework and pen and organizes them without a word, as if she'd expected me to do so.
"That's enough for today. Get ready for bed."
"Are you done already?"
"Yes."
"But don't language studies usually last about three hours...?"
"Not tonight."
I gasped before opening my mouth.
"Hey, is it because you have any plans for tonight, Takamura-Sensei?"
"Why is it that you ask? Is it because you expect a response? Or maybe you asked because you do not expect one?"
"No…! I just asked because I wanted to know why we ended so early!"
"So, you asked because you expected a response."
"----Ack!"
Ever since that fateful encounter, Takamura has always been this woman.
No matter how hard I try, I can't get close to her.
Sometimes I wonder if there's a robot hiding inside her. Or maybe, like in that movie, she's missing a heart.
"Well, it was fun, but yeah."
Takamura didn't say a word, but I figured she wouldn't. To be honest, I mostly just talk to myself while she's here.
Even so, why am I lying?
I must be trying to lighten the already extremely heavy atmosphere.
"You should practice suffixes and prefixes more. Your vocabulary isn't very good either."
As if reading a shopping list, she sang of my inadequacies like the lonely hum of a sick bird.
"Understood..."
I can only nod, bowing my head in agreement and embarrassment to eschew further scolding.
—The black kimono holds the materials close to her chest like a primary school teacher.
In about fifteen seconds or less, she had already packed everything up perfectly and ended up at the front door.
"Goodnight, Aron-kun."
I have to walk up to the door, so I wait for her to turn around and leave.
"Yeah, same to you. Sensei."
I sigh.
Dodging her eyes, I place my hand on the door.
Just like old times, she is looking down on me like a statue.
— ... As I open the door for Takamura, the cool night air reminds me of her eccentric fashion sense, and I sigh loudly, a mixture of exhaustion and confusion.
I turn around slightly with sore eyes and glare at a familiar box sitting alone on the table, as if waiting for a drink.
"Hmm, Taka. Can I have some of the cake Kota made for you?"
—Did I say "Taka"?!
"Guh?!"
–Craap!