Something smells fishy

Karma is a b*itch

Miyu wrapped her hand around my waist.

'Good morning Amy sensei. '

'Hey Miyu. '

This time I did not spasm quietly at her touch. I let my arm fall onto her frail shoulders and we continued to walk towards the school.

A lot has changed in the past two weeks. That day at the cafe something changed. We laughed, joked around and perhaps bonded in ways Poole usually bond.

Miyu turned out to be  a very gentle person and not the demanding workaholic I knew her to be. Oh my, she was still demanding but in cuter ways nowadays. Even today, she chose to greet me with a hug. It was something so normal for me, for our culture whereas in Japan this qualified as skin-ship or as they call it here sukinshipu. The pickle of the Japanese language, the katakana alphabet, that is, uses a syllable system to express borrowed words in a Japanese way. I disliked it thoroughly for distorting words and making my life as an English teacher harder.

So in the last two weeks we went from Cold War to amicability and even as far as skin-ship. At first she would tense up every time I gave her a squeeze. If she thought it would save her, she was wrong, because it just made me laugh harder and want to tease her even more. In time, she warmed up to it and answered with the same relaxed attitude. Just like she did today.

'Are we still on for takoyaki and shochu tonight?' I asked her as we made way towards the teacher's lounge. The corridors were buzzing with students going in and out of classrooms, randomly shouting hellos and good mornings to us. In between greeting the students she turned to me, frowned, then nodded.

Frowning was so her. I don't think I have seen people frown much here since this is the culture - total emotion camouflage. Miyu frowning at me was proof of how much closer we got.

Little by little, with her help, I got to see a warmer Japan, brimming with, alien to me, expressions of love. More of the tough love kind of warmth, a tactful and reserved kind.

'Come on, it will be fun and you know it.' I smiled mischievously at her. I really enjoyed our evenings together. We would cook something very traditional, get a bottle of local rice wine and giggle the night away.

Unable to resist my charm she finally nodded, 'un, it will be fun. I will meet you at your place at seven. Ok?'

'Perfect! You know I love you, right?!' I continued.

Her cheeks filled with a sakura tint. It was ridiculous how she managed to keep such a tight hold of me until today. She housed these two totally opposite personalities within her. Strong and willful at work yet so fragile and giddy around the people she cared about. I went totally bipolar because of her. The desire to strangle her in her sleep and the need to cuddle her into safety would altercate constantly.

I gave her another smile, 'oh, Miyu, ' before leaving her in the teacher's lounge and heading to the baseball field. Working as a teacher assistant wasn't as gratifying as I've thought so I offered to couch the school baseball team with Okumura sensei.

He was supposed to retire a trillion years ago, but he wasn't willing to step down, so everybody had to put up with his so called calling to teach and allowed him to stay as the main coach for the team. Seniority plays a great role in Japanese society. The longer somebody worked for a company, the more treasured, respected and well paid he became. Those who stuck through thick and thin, like Okumura Sensei, got to rule the ball. Those like me, did what they were told.

I didn't quite understand how things worked here but the faces of those kids looked too miserable for me to stay away. Their coach had no idea about the rules of the game, nor was he interested in learning about it. All they did is run laps and occasionally throw some balls around.