4.6 - A Story About a Married Teacher Who Becomes Obsessed With Her Female Student

Chapter 4: Quiet As The Depths of The Earth - Part Six In the middle of the night, after returning to my bedroom, I pick up the phone. This device, filled with secrets and ruin, always feels light in my hands. I scroll through our previous conversations. Aware that creating such undeniable evidence will eventually lead to my downfall, I read everything again. The exchanges reveal how unfit I am as a teacher and how anti-social a person I am. Yet, a sense of embarrassment and a smile soften my cheeks. Am I a fool? I shouldn't feel happiness from such trivial interactions, yet I can't prevent myself from being happy. Just the memories alone seem like enough to sustain me. And there it is, once again. Something fun comes from the other side. 'Sensei, are you awake?' It was unexpected, arriving just as I was reviewing our messages, and it startles me a bit. As I imagine if Togawa-san is also sitting on her bed like me, my fingers start to move. 'I'm about to go to sleep. Is something wrong?' 'No, just thinking about how much fun today was.' Recalling the early evening events, I curl my toes tightly against the floor. 'It was fun, right? I think... it was fun... but was it really fun...? No, it was fun, right?' Caught in this inner conflict, I mistakenly send the message without editing it. Words, much like actions, once sent, cannot be taken back. What is known cannot be unknown. 'Did it feel good, then?' Across the text, I can almost see Togawa-san's mischievous smile. It's the kind of smile she has when she's teasing me, slipping deeper into my mind. When I see myself reflecting back in the mirror, conversing with a student like this, I consciously try to keep my head down. 'Togawa-san, you tease.' 'But you were the one who initiated today~' She strikes a sharp blow to a soft spot. Indeed, that's true, yet I wish to believe Togawa-san shares at least some, perhaps a mere ten percent, of the responsibility. Given how close, with those gentle caresses... Can anyone expect me to endure that? Togawa-san uses it against me with full knowledge that I could never withstand it, which makes her quite culpable. 'It's because Togawa-san is such a wicked woman.' 'I wonder makes it feel so good?' Ignoring my excuses, she retaliates with forceful words. "It feels good." It feels good. It makes me gesture wildly with my hands. In the evening, too, Togawa-san had confidently said such things. Is this the straightforwardness of youth? Her assurance was so clear it almost felt reliable. In those moments, when we make love, even if Togawa-san isn't showing a bored face—an impression I feel through her expressions—there's a mingling of embarrassment and relief that leads me into emotional instability. My heart can't find a steady place. Wherever it rests, it quickly scurries off. 'Is it because Sensei is good at it?' It's not something I've ever paid attention to, and when faced with Togawa-san bare body, I'm just too absorbed, leaving no room for technique, at least in my mind. If anything, considering my past experiences, I'm inclined to move toward something more explicit, making me nearly cover my face. 'Shall we change the topic?' 'Okay. Then, send me a naughty selfie.' My eyes dart from left to right, like a plane taking flight. 'That's not really changing the topic, is it?' 'It's just your imagination.' 'What brought this on, all of a sudden?' 'It's just the mood I'm in now.' 'But why?' 'Asking why is harassment, Sensei.' Requesting suggestive selfies is surely more harassing. 'I won't send one.' 'Why not?' 'Because it's harassment.' Besides, after all... 'Aside from selfies, you see me directly, don't you?' Even today. There wasn't a part of Togawa-san's body I hadn't seen, and vice versa. The sensation of touching and being touched. Our usual heights had altered, and now, reflecting upon it, Togawa-san's eyes and bare skin revisit me, plaguing my conscience. Accompanied by the sound of bubbling, I felt like I was drowning. 'It's different from that, Sensei.' 'Sorry, Sensei isn't well-versed enough to grasp that.' In truth, I grasp it instinctively. Making someone do such a thing, or sending such things, if I seriously keep analyzing it in words like this, I'll never sleep. 'Besides, if we keep doing such things...' 'It'll be fine' No, it won't be fine. 'I would become the risqué 'Itsuki the selfie-taker.' Having sent the message, I feel a pang of disgrace, almost moved to tears. And then, tracing the strangely pleasing phrasing, I'm compelled to cry again. 'Go on, be that.' 'I absolutely don't want to.' 'I've told you before, I dislike your last name, Sensei.' The figurative sharp splinter scrapes across my skin, leaving a mark. Usually hidden, Togawa-san's aggressiveness reveals itself when speaking of my husband. Previously, I dodged its meaning, but now I accept it, having no choice but to face it head-on. 'Sensei, do you like me?' She asks for confirmation that needs no confirmation, leaving me puzzled and squinting. 'Do you think I don't?' 'If so—' As if she were here speaking with me in person, the momentum in the words breaks off. If so... a pause follows. I thought I heard Togawa take a deep breath. 'Never mind. Instead, how about something risqué?' 'I don't have anything like that.' 'Even a regular selfie will do, then.' The bar is lowered. Or perhaps raised in some way. 'I don't really want to show my face after taking off my makeup. Can it wait until tomorrow?' Though, she has already seen me collapse from a hangover with my face and hair a mess. Perhaps it truly doesn't change anything at this point. 'If it can wait until tomorrow, that's fine. Tomorrow, I might not feel like a selfie; I might just want to see you, Sensei.' Her words are consistently endearing, tickling at my throat, causing me to exhale, "Ah." I easily get wrapped up in it. 'Hey, what's your real last name, Sensei?' When she says "real," it feels as if this current one is a fabrication... It might be true, I laugh bitterly to myself. I no longer deserve to bear the same last name as my husband. Tracing my thumb along the family name I haven't used in so long, possibly dusty from lack of use, I type: 'Maekawa.' Recalling my family's mailbox and the nameplate, its surface faded and meaningless. 'Maekawa Itsuki.' The name I was given upon entering this world. My father, before passing, had said that regardless of gender, this was the name chosen. Apparently, the Maekawa family, including our relatives, have a strangely large number of names that are derived from nature. The areas where our relatives live are far from where we live, so we had almost no contact with them. I do remember, though, the relatives gathering for my wedding, including a particularly tall child, taller than Togawa-san now, named, yes, Taiyo. 'Nice to meet you.' I wonder what feelings Togawa-san had when she typed that. That's perhaps the kind of comprehension a modern Japanese language teacher should impart. If I could overlook the time and context. 'Homeroom teacher Maekawa Itsuki. I look forward to working with you.' I inscribe the name on the mental chalkboard, as Togawa Rin's only teacher. 'Sensei, your name has 'kawa' too.' 'Yes, it does.' 'A matching set.' Attached to her message was a peace sign emoji. Such a small thing brought her joy, and for the first time, gratitude for this surname welled up within me. Then, without missing a beat, Togawa-san makes her own entry. 'Maekawa Rin' Marriage? I was about to reply with that when a smidgeon of reason kicked in. Surprisingly. 'Adoption?' 'It would be fine if Sensei became my naughty mother too.' "Naughty" was unnecessary. And would it really be fine? I wondered. 'If I became your mother, Togawa-san, I'd never let you feel lonely.'