In one morning, we were waiting for Mr. Moto to start the class. We were chatting while Mr. Moto still seemed to be writing down something at his desk in the corner of the classroom. I happened to sit in front of Kei, and Izumi had joined us to have a conversation.
Some time had passed, and Mr. Moto remained at his desk. We silenced ourselves to signal him our confusion. Our eyes were directed at him. With the pause of noise, he looked up and back at us and said, “go on, keep talking.” I sensed a challenging tone in his voice. His sulky simper seemed so ugly and conceited that I turned around and resumed conversation with Izumi and Kei. With that cue, everyone else joined the resistance. The class united by ignoring Mr. Moto, who looked at us incredulously for a while and then went back to his work.
The 1st lesson passed. After recess, we waited for Mr. Moto in silence to give him a chance to return to a normal day. But he persisted with his sulk and let us continue to have our way. 2nd – 4th lessons passed. We ate our lunch, did the cleaning, and returned to the classroom for the 5th lesson. This time, he called Izumi, Kei, and me and took us to the library, while he let the rest of the class do their thing.
Mr. Moto sat us across from him and asked, “how come did you keep talking?” I was not afraid he might act up violently. If he did, he’d only prove he was no different from Tomo the Savage, and that’d make me win. I said he let us. For a moment, I prepared for a burst of his rage. But he remained calm, and in fact, he even looked slightly amused.
We relaxed a little, and Izumi and Kei spoke up about how they often felt the class was beneath them and that they’d study in the library by themselves and would still be ahead of the rest of the students. The conversation shifted to how to curb our boredom and what extra-curriculum we could take on. Nothing much changed in reality, but after this day, Mr. Moto became more respectful toward us and treated us differently from others, though I doubt he necessarily enjoyed it.
The incident made our friendship grow tighter. We were inseparable and spent morning and afternoon together, talking and making things, and doing things. I felt powerful when I was with them. We could do or say anything because we were different. We were special.