"I bet you didn't even have to crack the book."
"No, it's not like that at all."
"You really like to study, huh?"
"Don't be silly." Youko made a show of being outraged at the remark. "It's my mom, she's always on my case."
It wasn't true. Her mother wasn't strict at all about schoolwork. But it was best to go with the flow. "She checks my homework every night," Youko lied. "I can't stand it."
The truth was the opposite. If anything, Youko's bookishness annoyed her mother. It wasn't that she didn't care whether her daughter got good grades or not, it simply wasn't a priority. "If you've got time to study all day, then you've got time to do your chores, too." That was her favorite saying these days.
And it wasn't that Youko cared for studying, either. The simple truth of the matter was, the disapproval of her teachers terrified her.
"That bites, checking your homework every night."
"I know, I know. My parents are the same way. They expect to see me studying every waking minute. No normal person can stand studying that much!"
"Totally."
Youko nodded, if only from relief that she was no longer the topic of conversation.
Behind her someone said in a stage whisper, "Hey, it's Sugimoto."
The gaze of everyone in the room lit upon the girl who had just come in, and in the same instant fell away. A wave of cool aloofness washed into the void. Over the past six months shunning Sugimoto had become the sport of those in that class who mattered. Sugimoto stared back for a moment, a deer caught in the headlights, then shuffled over to where Youko was standing. She sat down at the desk to her left.
"Good morning, Youko," she said.
She spoke politely. Youko started to answer, only as a reflex, then choked off her reply. Once, not long ago, she had inadvertently exchanged pleasantries with Sugimoto. Afterwards her classmates had piled scorn upon her.
So she said nothing, acted as if Sugimoto weren't there at all. The other girls began to titter. Sugimoto bowed her head but did not look away. Youko felt her eyes on her. To hide her discomfort she made a show of engaging in the patter of conversation.
She might feel sorry for Sugimoto, but go against the rest and the next time she'd be "it."
"Um … Youko?"
Youko pretended not to hear. She knew what she was doing was heartless but she could not comprehend any other recourse.
Sugimoto persisted. "Youko," she said.
The conversation stopped. As one, the circle gathered around Youko's desk turned its attention on the girl. Youko could not fail to follow suit and found herself meeting Sugimoto's upturned gaze.
"Did … did you finish the math assignment?"
The timidity in the girl's voice launched the circle into another fit of giggles.
Youko struggled for an appropriate response. "I … sort of, I guess."
"Could you let me see it, please?"
The math teacher always assigned a student to explain the previous night's homework assignment. It occurred to Youko that Sugimoto's turn was coming up today. She glanced around the circle. No one said a thing. They answered her with the same hard looks they reserved for Sugimoto. Youko understood at once that they were waiting to see how she was going to rebuff Sugimoto's plea.
Youko swallowed the hard lump in her throat. "I … I still need to check it over for mistakes."
The roundabout refusal did not impress her companions. "Oh, Youko," one of them piped up, "you're such a pushover."
A voice filled with disapproval and reproach. Youko cringed inside. The rest of the group chimed in.
"You've got to be more direct than that, Youko."
"She's right. A person in your position can't leave any room for doubt."
"Else you'll end up surrounded by idiots who can't take no for an answer."
Youko had no idea what to do. She lacked the courage to openly betray their expectations. At the same time, she lacked the disciplined indifference required to hurl at the girl the kind of words they wanted to hear. Finally she responded with a nervous laugh.
"I'm sure … . "
"It's true! You're too nice all the time. That's why nobodies like her are always glomming onto you."
"But I'm class president."
"That's why you've got to stick to your guns. You've got real responsibilities, after all. You can't get distracted by every pest that comes along."
"I suppose."
"That's right." A thin, wicked smile creased the girl's lips. "Besides, if you give Sugimoto your notes, she'll get them all … dirty."
"Yeah, you wouldn't want that."
The circle dissolved into another round of vicious mirth. Youko joined in the laughter. But not before she noticed out of the corners of her eyes the girl's bowed head, the tears streaming down her cheeks.
It's her fault too, she instructed herself. People like her don't get picked on for no reason. There's always a reason. They bring it on themselves.
1-3
Within the infinite dusk there was no heaven, no earth. Only the high, hollow sound of each falling drop of water. In every direction she could see the thin, crimson glow, the writhing shadows, the strange beasts galloping towards her.
Less than two hundred yards separated them. Their sheer size collapsed the distance further. There was a monkey amongst the menagerie, its mouth agape in silent, raucous laughter, its fur glistening in the red light … it was so close that with each leap and bound she could see the flex and draw of sinew and muscle.
She stood rooted, dumb and immobile. As much as she tried to avert her gaze she could only watch the cavorting menagerie. The smell of death was thick on the wind and it choked her.
I must wake up.
She had to rouse herself from the dream before they reached her. Even as she repeated the mantra to herself, she couldn't think of any way to do so. If will alone was enough, she would have done it already.
While she stood there helplessly the distance between them was halved again.
I must wake up.
A frantic desperation possessed her. The panic coursed through her body, crawled along her skin. She gulped for air. Her heart pounded, her blood thundered in her ears.
What happens if I can't escape?
In that same moment she felt a presence above her head. A crushing bloodlust descended upon her. Yet for the first time in the dream she found that she could move. She looked up at tawny wings, limbs of the same color. Scaly feet tipped with razor-sharp claws. She didn't have time to contemplate escape. An ocean roar filled her body.
She screamed.
"Youko!"
She fled. She did not think about how to escape. Her body simply fulfilled the desire. She bolted and ran. Only afterwards did she stop to take in the landscape around her.
And the startled look on her teacher's face, the wide eyes of her classmates.
She was standing several steps back from her desk. It was the middle of English class. She breathed a deep sigh of relief, then reddened with embarrassment.
A beat, and a gale of laughter swept the room.
She had fallen asleep. The dreams had turned her into an insomniac. She often found herself nodding off at school. But the nightmares had never visited her before in the daytime.
Her teacher strode towards her. Youko anxiously bit her lip. She usually had no problems getting along with her teachers, but for some reason this one resisted. No matter how accommodating and subservient Youko tried to be, her English teacher remained stubbornly antagonistic towards her.
The teacher tapped on the desktop with the corner of the textbook. "I accept that a student will try to steal a few winks in one of my classes now and then, but this is a first, Miss Nakajima. Will you bring a pillow to school next time? I'd hate to think that our uncomfortable desks should cause you so much distress."