The professor scared her when he asked
her to speak with him after class. The aged man told her that the dean of the
university wanted to speak with her right away. Naya asked her professor if
anything was wrong. To her relief, a huge smile spread across his face.
“Nothing’s wrong! I would ruin the surprise by telling you now, so
you better run over there.”
She thanked him and quickly walked from the east building to the other
side of the campus. There was a line of students waiting outside the dean’s
office, but he had been expecting her. When his secretary saw Naya enter the
reception room, she greeted her warmly and led her into his office. Since he was
not there his secretary told her to have seat.
“He will be in shortly.”
Naya nodded and waited. Three minutes later, the dean entered.
He was a short man with wispy hair and an untrimmed mustache. The people
acknowledged his genius, yet his grooming habits were legend throughout campus.
Right now, Naya could see traces of crumbs on his jacket from rice crackers
he snaked on earlier.
“Well, Naya. I’m pleased to have you here so soon. I gather your
professor announced that I requested an audience with you.”
“Yes,” she replied, trying desperately to conceal her raging
excitement.
The dean picked up a file that had been lying on his desk. He opened it
and reviewed its contents. It took him a while, and occasionally she could hear
a “uh-huh” and a “hum” from him. She tried to see what he studied and
recognized her name on the file.
“Very impressive, Miss Yamato. Professor Tanaka was wise in selecting
you. I see here you are the youngest in your class and have acquired an
impressive rank. Well,” he dropped the file and leaned back, “I see that you
dream in becoming a high school teacher.”
Naya nodded.
He inspected her. “A likely ambition for a…what was that,” he
leaned forward and gazed down at her employment information, “a performer at
the Sakura Club?”
He looked back at her.
Naya glared at him. She had enough of people objecting to the way she
earned her living. Why couldn’t they just ignore the matter and judge her by
her ambitions? “It’s a way of living,” she replied curtly.
The dean nodded. He did not want to make another person upset, especially
when he had good news to pass on. Earlier that day he had talked with ten
students who were scheduled to drop out of the university because of failing
GPAs. Certainly, he had been waiting for this opportunity. He needed to clear
his conscience by spreading some light into this girl’s drab, wretched life.
He cleared his throat. “Well, Miss Yamato, Professor Tanaka has met
with me and he feels that you are far too advanced to remain in his class. He
wants me to hand your diploma three months in advance. Now, I have no doubt that
you are capable of becoming an instructor, but the policy states that you must
be employed as a teacher’s aide for two weeks. This will give me a chance to
evaluate your performance and see if you deserve the diploma. If you do well, I
will not only hand you your diploma, but also have a teaching certificate
addressed in your name. Your knowledge level is far too advanced for you to
complete the standardized tests. Professor Tanaka has faith in you and I trust
his judgment, but we decided that we would only offer the position if you
accepted it. You might want to go home and discuss this with your parents, since
you are only a minor.”
“I’m emancipated.”
“I see…” He looked at her again, curious of her home life,
wondering what type of parents would let her work as a dancer. “Can’t get
along,” he asked, “Family problems?”
Naya curled her lip. “No, my parents are dead.”
“Oh…”
She cut in, relieving the awkwardness. “I accept the offer. When do I
begin?”
“Well, we were hoping today. Your professor and I have already made the
arrangements. You will be helping at a high school not too far from here. The
teacher you will be helping is a math instructor and his name is Mr. Mioshi.”
“Do I leave now then?”
“The sooner the better.”
“Thank you.”
She got up from her seat and headed for the door. The dean stopped her,
“Go to my secretary. She has the papers that you need to sign along with the
contract that you have to bring to the school.” He paused then replied, “You
know, you give us a good name. A teacher at seventeen…wow! And there are not
that many female teachers around you know. Well, the best to you.”
She gave a small smile and walked out the door.
|
| |
The boy asked for it. He had heard of her fighting capabilities and
wanted to put her skills to the test. Her grandfather had always taught her to
avoid getting into a fight, but when he hiked up her skirt, Xiaoyu would not take
anymore
crap from him.
“Pervert!” She screamed while punching his face.
The boy blocked her move and gave her a crooked smile. “Come on. Hit
me!”
She pushed him to the ground and tried to walk past him. The boy caught
her off guard when he got up and tripped her with a low, swing kick.
Xiaoyu yelped and fell.
The boy held her down and grinned, overconfident of his victory. Xiaoyu
was trapped. She could not move her arms for he had them bound. The only defense she had
were
her legs. She kneed him on the crotch.
The boy squealed and got off of her. She then performed an
uppercut, causing the boy to land ten yards away.
The crowd that had gathered cheered for her, but most were shocked to see
their school’s best fighter lying immobile on the ground. The crowd soon broke
away when the bell rang, signaling the students to report to their next class.
Xiaoyu picked up her books and walked to her fourth period class. Seeing
the pathetic loser on the ground slightly boosted her pride. She wanted to tell
her grandfather, but he would only scold her for utilizing her skills in an
inappropriate manner.
When she entered her math class, she saw half the junior boys gawking at
the front of the classroom. Xiaoyu frowned. What on earth are they gaping at?
She quietly took her seat next to the window on the left side of the
room. Her friend Ayame greeted her and started asking Xiaoyu a question
regarding homework. However, Xiaoyu did not pay any attention to her friend.
She had her eyes glued to the front of the room. There she saw a stranger who
did not appear much older than she was. Some of the other students start raising
their hands and asking Mr. Misohi if they had a new student. Mr. Misohi cleared
his throat and called for attention. “Class, let me introduce Miss Yamato. She
is a student teacher from the university and will be-”
“A college student,” one of the boys interjected, “yo, that’s
sweet!”
The other male students started to agree and soon the whole room began to get rowdy. Mr. Misoshi (Xiaoyu felt sorry for him because none of the
students ever listened to him) had a hard time gaining control of the class. He
finally yelled and gradually the class turned quiet.
“It is a shame that I have to ask you constantly for your undivided
attention. Now, Miss Yamato will be joining us for two weeks. In due time, I
believe she will work here among the staff as a math teacher. Some of you might
even have her next year if she becomes a senior instructor. I will turn the
class over to her for a few moments so that she may introduce herself and then
at the end of her introduction you can ask her questions.”
Mr. Mioshi stepped aside and let his companion take center stage. The
naughty man was checking out her backside, which made the whole class notice.
The loser was old enough to be their father.
The stranger cleared her throat and spoke, her voice clear and
sweet. “As Mr. Mioshi has said, I am Miss Yamato and I am a student at the
University of Tokyo. In a couple of weeks I hope to earn my degree and teaching
certificate. I was supposed to acquire my degree three months from now, but with
the help of one of my professors, the dean, and Mr. Mioshi, I was graciously
offered this position. They feel that I am ready for my final evaluation and
hopefully become a teacher. Mr. Mioshi has granted me the chance to instruct
this class for the next week. I’m looking forward to working with you all and
I hope you will do me the favor of making it easy for me since you seem to enjoy
torturing Mr. Mioshi so much.”
The class started to laugh and soon enough a show of hands exploded in
the air. The girl allowed the first person to ask his question.
“Just how old are you?”
“Seventeen,” she answered.
Another boy raised his hand, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Ayame rolled her eyes and faced Xiaoyu. “Why did we have to go to the
high school with the highest population of immature guys?”
Xiaoyu did not pay attention to her. During the student teacher’s
speech, she had an eerie feeling come over her. She felt cold, as if something
surrounded her. At first, Xiaoyu checked the window if the teacher had left it
open, but it was closed. Soon, she started to get chilly and her teeth began
rattling. She felt an invisible breeze blow through her hair, yet there was no
window open. Xiaoyu started to grow afraid. Suddenly, she heard something
whisper in her ear. It came across her so faintly that she could hardly hear it.
“Naya…Naya…”
Xiaoyu froze. No…she really can’t be! Xiaoyu gazed at the
woman answering an ocean of questions, all ranging from what bra size
she wore to what type of food she ate for breakfast. Of course she had the
modesty to answer only the ones that were appropriate, yet no one had the
decency to ask her first name.
Suddenly, Xiaoyu raised her hand.
The lady called on her.
“Is your first name…Naya?”
The class grew silent. The boys paused taking notes on the answers the
lady had given them. Slowly, the students in the class turned to look at her.
The stares ranged from thinking she was demented to wondering if she was a
goddess in disguise.
The woman could only stare at her. For a split second her eyes widened
and then she relaxed.
“Yes,” she replied. “That is my first name.”
“Woah…did you steal her wallet or something,” one of the guys asked
Xiaoyu.
She ignored him; in fact she ignored them all. Xiaoyu dropped her head
and looked at her desk. At least the lady had saved her the embarrassment of not
asking why. She only asked for the next question and continued answering the
others.
|
| |
The bell rang and the students shuffled out the classroom to go to their
lockers and then straight on home. However, Mr. Mioshi requested Xiaoyu to stay
after class.
“Miss Ling, I would like to know how you knew Miss Yamato’s name. I
don’t ever recalling her telling you that, neither does she.”
Xiaoyu blinked. She did not know what to say. The only thing she could
say in her defense was the truth. “I just had this feeling…like something in
my mind told me. I don’t know…it could have been a lucky guess.”
Mr. Mioshi stared at her as if she were crazy. Of course he did not
believe her. “I think we should go see the counselor.”
“That won’t be necessary Mr. Mioshi, I believe her.” Naya replied.
Mr. Mioshi turned to her and said, “Miss Yamato, are you going to
believe everything she says? There is no chance she could have known your name.”
“Well, if you haven’t noticed, she has a Naya water bottle strapped
to her back pack. I think that might be the reason why.”
Mr. Mioshi gazed in the pointed direction. His cheeks turned red and he
excused himself. “Forgive me, Xiaoyu. You may go.”
Xiaoyu thanked him and then thanked Naya. She knew that Naya believed her
explanation. The observation was merely a coincidence. And then Xiaoyu
smiled. How could anyone be named after a bottle of water?
|
| |
It had been a long day, but it was worth it. Naya felt even better when
she remembered that she did not have to work that night. She added some numbers
in her head and was happy to find that she had more than enough money saved for
her to live off of for a couple of weeks. She would not go back to her job,
especially after what happened. If they fired her she would not care. By then
she would be a teacher and would no longer have to think about working there
again. It was the only place that paid enough for her to live on. For a year and
a half she had to endure the lustful stares and a slightly indecent exposure of
her body, but as long as she would keep her garments on she was fine.
Naya walked a bit faster on her way home. She took a different route,
hoping to avoid the press that still lounged outside her apartment building. As
she walked on home, she let her mind wander. Her thoughts turned to Hwoarang. He
might have been a little cool, but at least he was nice enough to allow her to
stay for the night. It never occurred to her that he was a celebrity until he
had pointed it out. She really did not care when he told her, yet when she saw
her face plastered all over the midday news earlier that day, it finally dawned
on her. Not only was she the one who saw the news, but half the university as
well. Throughout the day, people she had never even talked to would come up to
her and start asking questions: What was his place like? What does he wear to
bed? Did you two sleep with each other? Did he pay you, and if so how much? She
almost yelled in their faces when they had asked her those offensive questions.
How could anyone think of her that way? She may be a dancer, but that was only
for the money. She needed to get by. Plus she never exchanged personal favors.
She always went home after getting off. Naya was sure the other girls were doing
more than just dancing, yet she would not allow herself to get involved. She
already felt ashamed with her present job.
She quickened her steps, taking the long way through the bus station. She
walked through the lobby and excited through the south exit, keeping her head
low just in case anyone would recognize her. The more she thought about home,
the faster her pace. That was the last place she felt safe in, and she wanted to
get there as soon as possible. Almost there.
Naya crossed the crowded street and approached the building.
To her horror, a group of reporters camped out in front of every
exit/entrance of the complex, keeping close watch of everyone’s face as they
passed.
Naya
decided to walk on, keeping her head low. As she drew closer, the reporters
recognized her. Instantly, they got up and started blocking her way, devouring
her with cameras and microphones. They spit out so many questions that she did
not understand any of them.
Naya pushed her way through the crowd and ran into the building. The
reporters chased her inside and all the way to the elevators. One of the
elevators opened in time for Naya to enter and when she went inside, she
instantly pushed the ‘close’ button. The door closed right when the
reporters came crowding through, the doors shutting them out, allowing Naya to
catch her breath and ten seconds of privacy. When the elevator
reached the fourth floor, she got off and walked down the hall. She reached into
her pants for her keys, but would soon learn that she had no use for them. Her
lock had been busted and her door left half open. She slowly approached and
carefully opened the door all the way.
What she saw left her speechless. Someone had broken into her home, for as far as the eye could see, her apartment
was trashed.