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

Chapter Five: "Water Seeping Through The Cracks" Part Three At the dead end of relationships, I never imagined that the wall would take the shape of one's home. "Isn't this exciting?" "...Is it?" It seems what strikes Togawa-san and me at the heart greatly differs. My heart aches like anyone else's. Yet, because my actions fall short of being human, my guilt doesn't balance out. That's why I can always, without remorse, dive into something terrible. Sneaking a lover into the house, anticipating lurking and indulging in illicit affairs right under the husband's nose. Such depravity has come far, I chuckled mockingly at myself. As we reached Togawa-san's house, she nearly bounced backward in retreat. "Boing! Boing!" Her tone was playful, but her movements were genuine. She hid behind a signpost, peering at me. "Did you remember what to bring, sensei?" "Leave it to me. I've got a decent memory." For example, I even remember all of Togawa-san’s scores from last semester's exams. Though with other students, I'd have to check again, how troublesome a teacher I am. "To be honest, I should be the one going." Still hiding, her face darkened like the sun slipping behind the clouds. "I don't hate my mom, but... I feel like we'd argue again if we met now." It would be okay to dislike her, you know? Thinking that, I chastised myself, delivering a firm slap to my cheek. "Sensei?" "Discipline." I don't want myself to become a bad person. I just want to be the kind of sensei who lives up to Togawa-san's expectations. If my humanity warps as a result, so be it, but there’s no reason to soil my character out of personal desire. "I'll be right back. I'll just go grab it." "I'll wait here." Pressed snugly against the signpost, Togawa-san waved her hand enthusiastically. Perhaps I should have brought a hat or parasol; a pang of regret struck as I left her in the strong sunlight. Togawa Rin seemed so dazzling to me she could blend with the light any moment. A parasol casting some shade would help me discern her from the light, offering some relief. I chuckled at my metaphor, not even I could grasp its meaning. I pressed the doorbell at the front of the Togawa household. The response to such an old-fashioned summons without an intercom was slow. After waiting a bit, I tried the door and found it unlocked. Perhaps Togawa-san had dashed out, leaving it like that. Familiar though it was, I entered warding off any semblance of presumption and peered down the hallway. I sensed human presence and faintly detected a scent that recalled an unpleasant past. "Hello!" I raised my voice, calling out further inside. There were sounds, so someone must be awake. Whether they’re conscious is another question. After a moment, the sliding doors to the living room opened and heavy footsteps lumbered forth. "Hello, this is Ichigohara, Rin's homeroom teacher." "Huh?" Staggering into view was a silhouette bearing an unpleasant odor, the scent of alcohol. Untamed long hair veiled half their face, a bloodshot eye fixated on me. "Who’re you? ...Oh, Rin's teacher, huh?" "Yes." Impressive that she even remembered. "So, what do you need? ...Ah, wait a sec." Just like when she appeared, Togawa's mother clumsily retreated into the back rooms. Though I didn't want to wait, I stood there, and she returned with her face newly washed, appearing slightly more refreshed than before. "Just washed my face, you know. It's the least I could do." Unlike when we met at the bar at night, sans makeup, her features held a simple charm. Nevertheless, she didn’t resemble Togawa-san. Even if she did, my desire for them not to be alike might skew my perception. Pushing aside her down-draped hair, Togawa's mother stood before the entrance. "So? Why is a teacher paying a home visit—how'd you know where I live?" "Togawa-san told me." "Rin? Is she back?" She peeked past me. The glare from outside, filtered through frosted glass, seemed too bright for her, prompting her to shield her eyes and quickly retract her head. Then, she started grinning sheepishly. "Well, you see. When your daughter screams 'get out', even I get a bit sad, so I drank quite a bit, haha. Might end up crying." Lies. "So what about Rin?" "She's currently under my care. I heard she had a quarrel with her mother." "And how are you in contact with Rin?" Surprisingly shrewd for someone inebriated. Perhaps she’s accustomed to drinking. "I'm not. In fact, she left her phone behind. But she came to my house." "huh? How'd she know where you live? Oh, so Rin came to your place?" "A friend of mine brought her over." I avoided lies as much as possible to ensure consistency. Repeated deception teaches you how to lie convincingly. Ah, this life of secrets makes me want to look up at the heavens. "So, Togawa-san doesn’t want to return home right now... so at least for today, I thought I'd let her stay at my place. I’m here to inform you and gather some overnight belongings." I delivered the message as neutrally as possible. It was merely a notice—I wasn't expecting permission from the mother. "You, as a teacher? Why?" "Isn't it obvious? Because her mother is failing." "It's a measure as her homeroom teacher." "Do teachers generally do that?" Normally, they don’t. And they shouldn’t, perhaps. But. "I do." "Well... alright." With an exaggerated sigh, the alcoholic breath extended too long. Her gaze was locked on me, filled with discontent, and likely, my returning gaze mirrored her expression in both shape and hue. "Fine by me. If you're willing to look after her. Her room's probably on the second floor. Just an educated guess from hearing someone traipse up and down the stairs." Togawa's mother laughed, clapping her hands. It's the first time I'd met a parent who could only guess the location of their child's room. I never wanted to encounter such a person. I avoided looking at her, fixing my gaze forward as I headed directly towards the stairs. I didn't care if she wondered how I knew where the stairs were. I climbed the stairs and entered Togawa-san's room. The room enveloped me with its lingering warmth, as if welcoming me with a gentle touch on the nape of my neck. Taking a fleeting glance at the bed with which I shared so much history, I placed the bag on the desk. I picked up the phone that lay carelessly by the pillow and tucked it into the bag. Gathering the charger and other items off the desk, I filled the bag methodically. With anger pooling at the corners of my eyes like tears, perhaps it was just as well. Handling Togawa-san's clothes and undergarments under normal circumstances might have invited improper thoughts. I continued stoically, moving items from right to left as part of the task. Whenever even a hint of temptation could surface, I diverted my focus towards textbooks and study materials. Materials, clothes, phone. Also needed: makeup supplies and stuffed animals. Togawa-san requested the dolphin and sea turtle plushies from her bedside. They showed signs of age, the stains in their seams testament to their long existence. It was unlikely that her parent bought them; Togawa-san must have acquired them herself, a constant presence by her side. I indulged in a fanciful notion of what these plushies meant to Togawa-san, succumbing to a wave of sentimentality.