Observations - Oneshot
Posted: Thu May 30, 2013 10:27 pm
I guess I am not unique in claiming to be a long time lurker and first time poster.
I got the idea for this oneshot when I returned to my high school with some friends a few weeks ago and caught up with a few of my favorite teachers. We somehow ended up on the subject of shipping, and I learned that it actually is something that the teachers would do all the time.
Thus I received the idea and decided to role with it. I only half expect this to backfire.
As always, criticism and comments are appreciated.
Observations
By 2007 I had already been a member of the nursing staff at Yamaku for over three years. An old friend of mine was the head nurse at the school and when he offered me a position on his staff I accepted. In the time I had spent there I had seen waves of young men and women triumph over their disabilities and set out to conquer the world in the way they saw fit. I also saw those less fortunate squeeze the most out of what little time they had left.
I rarely interacted with them outside of medical emergencies. I was not a teacher. It was not my place to leave a deep impact on the lives of these teenagers. Rather my part, and the part of my colleagues, was to observe. We were to be watching and render aid at a moment’s notice, but ultimately remain in the background so as to let the students go about their lives with as little interference as possible.
However, this was a high school, and so our observations seemed were acted out in front of us like a continuous play. The characters were many and always changing, but the comedy and tragedy were still there. It was not uncommon for those of us on the nursing staff to gossip about the various students. Such banter was always trivial and harmless. Along the lines of “Did you hear about so and so breaking up with what’s-his-name?”
Indeed, relationships were a favorite topic of discussion. Several of my peers thought themselves quite the matchmakers, and often made bets as to who each student would date. I only participated in such things halfheartedly, though when I did it was always a matter of surprise and amusement to see how the pieces would fall into place. When Nakai transferred to Yamaku that year, he was no exception.
I recall it was after a changing of the nursing shift one evening shortly after he arrived that Nakai’s social circle became a matter of discussion. A large group of four of my colleagues and I were walking to a restaurant in the nearby town when someone spoke.
“I saw that new transfer student painting with Tezuka the other day. He seemed to be really enjoying himself and Tezuka seemed happy in her own way,” She said. “What do you guys think?”
“Most find Tezuka enjoyable at first,” a different colleague replied. “Nakai will probably find that quirkiness will begin to wear out its welcome sooner rather than later. I heard the boss was having him take up running with Ibarazaki in the mornings. If anything is going to happen I would be willing to bet that it will happen between them.”
This caused a third member of our group to giggle. She smiled and gave a small shake of her head in disagreement.
“If the track and field team can’t keep up with Ibarazaki in the mornings I don’t think a boy who just spent the last few months in the hospital will. Hakamichi is his class representative, and I saw Nakai leave the student council room the other day. When Hakamichi and Mikado left shortly afterwards, Hakamichi seemed more than thrilled,” She replied.
I couldn’t help but give an audible chuckle at this notion.
“So instead of pairing him with the girl who is passionate about running, you pair him with the girl who is passionate about everything else,” I asked. “Hakamichi was probably just thrilled to have another person beside herself and Mikado doing student council work.”
“Why not,” Hakamichi’s advocate asked, “do you have another suggestion?”
I shrugged. At that point I had only seen Nakai on a few occasions in the hallways. He seemed to be making few waves in his first few days at Yamaku and flew relatively under my radar. Still I had seen him accompanying Satou to the library, and at this point it seemed like we were throwing potential matches at the wall to see what would stick.
“I saw him with Satou the other day. Why not her,” I asked.
My friends who had advocated Ibarazaki and Hakamichi were already winding up for their own counter arguments when my fifth and final colleague spoke up. He usually made a point to avoid such conversations, as he found them trivial and to a degree unprofessional. This time it appeared he had something to say.
“Ikezawa.” He stated.
I turned to my colleague with an intrigued expression. I could see the rest of our peers had done the same.
“Why?” asked our friend who had earlier advocated Tezuka. She seemed shocked by the suggestion.
“They are in the same class, and from the sounds of it Nakai has already made friends with Satou. I don’t see why not,” he said coolly.
The rest of us knew exactly why not, but none of us bothered to say anything.
“Willing to bet on that,” Ibarazaki’s advocate asked. He replied with a shrug.
“How much,” he asked.
“1000 yen,” Ibarazaki’s advocate suggested, “The rest of you want in?”
One by one the rest of us agreed. It had been agreed that I was to carry the winnings until either all candidates were no longer in the running or one had won Nakai’s heart. By this point we had reached the restaurant and that was the last we spoke of the topic as group.
The weeks soon passed and one by one the different candidates began to drop out of the running. None of us saw Nakai paint with Tezuka again, though whether or not it was Tezuka’s quirks or a general lack of interest in art that drove Nakai away remained to be seen.
“It was a shot in the dark anyway,” my colleague who originally suggested Tezuka said as she placed her 1000 yen into an envelope that I carried on my person.
My friend who suggested Ibarazaki also soon found himself disappointed. Much to his ire and that of the head nurse, Nakai had simply stopped attending the morning running sessions. It soon became clear that in addition to running, Nakai had no real interest in Ibarazaki as well.
“She probably would have dumped him like her last boyfriend,” he said as he too placed his money in the envelope.
Our peer who suggested Hakamichi remained hopeful much longer than she probably should have. While in the weeks following the festival we had seen Nakai hanging out with Hakamichi and Mikado, it was apparent that she had not won his heart. The two seemed content as friends.
“Boys just don’t get her,” Hakamichi’s advocate commented when I came to collect her 1000 yen.
It was shortly after this I that too lost hope in winning the bet. Not because my suggestion had been disproven for Nakai had in fact become close friends with Satou and Ikezawa by this point. Instead it was because he seemed uninterested in making a move for either girl. As the weeks passed the bet seemed all but forgotten. Satou eventually left for Scotland for family matters. At the same time, however, if he and Ikezawa had become more than friends, my peers and I did not see it.
Perhaps that is why I was so shocked that day I was in town. My friend who had suggested Ikezawa and I were returning to Yamaku when we saw the two of them down the street.
“Isn’t that Ikezawa and Nakai,” I asked. My colleague nodded, confused as I was to see students in town while classes were still in session. We were even more shocked when Ikezawa turned and kissed Nakai. I felt my jaw drop. In all the observations I had made of Ikezawa in the time I had spent at Yamaku I had never imagined I would ever see her do such as thing. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my colleague had a small smile, one that combined the sentiment of “I told you so,” with pure surprise. I gave a small chuckle as I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the now wrinkled envelope, placing my 1000 yen inside as I handed it to my friend.
“Congratulations,” I said.
“They did all the work,” he replied as he pocketed the money.
“Should we say something? They are skipping class, and I don’t think it is because Ikezawa needs time and space,” I asked. My colleague shook his head. Already Nakai and Ikezawa had made their way further down the street, holding hands the entire way. This was the first time any of had seen her happy.
“I haven’t seen any students in town all day, have you?” my friend asked with a small chuckle. I gave him a small smile and the two of us continued to make our way back to Yamaku.
In the remaining time that Nakai spent at Yamaku I never once actually spoke to him. I saw him graduate and his relationship with Ikezawa blossom, but I left no impact on his life. I was not a teacher. It was not my place to leave an impression on the students. My part was that of an observer. I was simply there to watch as the lives of these young men and women played out, and render medical assistance when needed.
All of us were background characters here, and we would have it no other way.
I got the idea for this oneshot when I returned to my high school with some friends a few weeks ago and caught up with a few of my favorite teachers. We somehow ended up on the subject of shipping, and I learned that it actually is something that the teachers would do all the time.
Thus I received the idea and decided to role with it. I only half expect this to backfire.
As always, criticism and comments are appreciated.
Observations
By 2007 I had already been a member of the nursing staff at Yamaku for over three years. An old friend of mine was the head nurse at the school and when he offered me a position on his staff I accepted. In the time I had spent there I had seen waves of young men and women triumph over their disabilities and set out to conquer the world in the way they saw fit. I also saw those less fortunate squeeze the most out of what little time they had left.
I rarely interacted with them outside of medical emergencies. I was not a teacher. It was not my place to leave a deep impact on the lives of these teenagers. Rather my part, and the part of my colleagues, was to observe. We were to be watching and render aid at a moment’s notice, but ultimately remain in the background so as to let the students go about their lives with as little interference as possible.
However, this was a high school, and so our observations seemed were acted out in front of us like a continuous play. The characters were many and always changing, but the comedy and tragedy were still there. It was not uncommon for those of us on the nursing staff to gossip about the various students. Such banter was always trivial and harmless. Along the lines of “Did you hear about so and so breaking up with what’s-his-name?”
Indeed, relationships were a favorite topic of discussion. Several of my peers thought themselves quite the matchmakers, and often made bets as to who each student would date. I only participated in such things halfheartedly, though when I did it was always a matter of surprise and amusement to see how the pieces would fall into place. When Nakai transferred to Yamaku that year, he was no exception.
I recall it was after a changing of the nursing shift one evening shortly after he arrived that Nakai’s social circle became a matter of discussion. A large group of four of my colleagues and I were walking to a restaurant in the nearby town when someone spoke.
“I saw that new transfer student painting with Tezuka the other day. He seemed to be really enjoying himself and Tezuka seemed happy in her own way,” She said. “What do you guys think?”
“Most find Tezuka enjoyable at first,” a different colleague replied. “Nakai will probably find that quirkiness will begin to wear out its welcome sooner rather than later. I heard the boss was having him take up running with Ibarazaki in the mornings. If anything is going to happen I would be willing to bet that it will happen between them.”
This caused a third member of our group to giggle. She smiled and gave a small shake of her head in disagreement.
“If the track and field team can’t keep up with Ibarazaki in the mornings I don’t think a boy who just spent the last few months in the hospital will. Hakamichi is his class representative, and I saw Nakai leave the student council room the other day. When Hakamichi and Mikado left shortly afterwards, Hakamichi seemed more than thrilled,” She replied.
I couldn’t help but give an audible chuckle at this notion.
“So instead of pairing him with the girl who is passionate about running, you pair him with the girl who is passionate about everything else,” I asked. “Hakamichi was probably just thrilled to have another person beside herself and Mikado doing student council work.”
“Why not,” Hakamichi’s advocate asked, “do you have another suggestion?”
I shrugged. At that point I had only seen Nakai on a few occasions in the hallways. He seemed to be making few waves in his first few days at Yamaku and flew relatively under my radar. Still I had seen him accompanying Satou to the library, and at this point it seemed like we were throwing potential matches at the wall to see what would stick.
“I saw him with Satou the other day. Why not her,” I asked.
My friends who had advocated Ibarazaki and Hakamichi were already winding up for their own counter arguments when my fifth and final colleague spoke up. He usually made a point to avoid such conversations, as he found them trivial and to a degree unprofessional. This time it appeared he had something to say.
“Ikezawa.” He stated.
I turned to my colleague with an intrigued expression. I could see the rest of our peers had done the same.
“Why?” asked our friend who had earlier advocated Tezuka. She seemed shocked by the suggestion.
“They are in the same class, and from the sounds of it Nakai has already made friends with Satou. I don’t see why not,” he said coolly.
The rest of us knew exactly why not, but none of us bothered to say anything.
“Willing to bet on that,” Ibarazaki’s advocate asked. He replied with a shrug.
“How much,” he asked.
“1000 yen,” Ibarazaki’s advocate suggested, “The rest of you want in?”
One by one the rest of us agreed. It had been agreed that I was to carry the winnings until either all candidates were no longer in the running or one had won Nakai’s heart. By this point we had reached the restaurant and that was the last we spoke of the topic as group.
The weeks soon passed and one by one the different candidates began to drop out of the running. None of us saw Nakai paint with Tezuka again, though whether or not it was Tezuka’s quirks or a general lack of interest in art that drove Nakai away remained to be seen.
“It was a shot in the dark anyway,” my colleague who originally suggested Tezuka said as she placed her 1000 yen into an envelope that I carried on my person.
My friend who suggested Ibarazaki also soon found himself disappointed. Much to his ire and that of the head nurse, Nakai had simply stopped attending the morning running sessions. It soon became clear that in addition to running, Nakai had no real interest in Ibarazaki as well.
“She probably would have dumped him like her last boyfriend,” he said as he too placed his money in the envelope.
Our peer who suggested Hakamichi remained hopeful much longer than she probably should have. While in the weeks following the festival we had seen Nakai hanging out with Hakamichi and Mikado, it was apparent that she had not won his heart. The two seemed content as friends.
“Boys just don’t get her,” Hakamichi’s advocate commented when I came to collect her 1000 yen.
It was shortly after this I that too lost hope in winning the bet. Not because my suggestion had been disproven for Nakai had in fact become close friends with Satou and Ikezawa by this point. Instead it was because he seemed uninterested in making a move for either girl. As the weeks passed the bet seemed all but forgotten. Satou eventually left for Scotland for family matters. At the same time, however, if he and Ikezawa had become more than friends, my peers and I did not see it.
Perhaps that is why I was so shocked that day I was in town. My friend who had suggested Ikezawa and I were returning to Yamaku when we saw the two of them down the street.
“Isn’t that Ikezawa and Nakai,” I asked. My colleague nodded, confused as I was to see students in town while classes were still in session. We were even more shocked when Ikezawa turned and kissed Nakai. I felt my jaw drop. In all the observations I had made of Ikezawa in the time I had spent at Yamaku I had never imagined I would ever see her do such as thing. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my colleague had a small smile, one that combined the sentiment of “I told you so,” with pure surprise. I gave a small chuckle as I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the now wrinkled envelope, placing my 1000 yen inside as I handed it to my friend.
“Congratulations,” I said.
“They did all the work,” he replied as he pocketed the money.
“Should we say something? They are skipping class, and I don’t think it is because Ikezawa needs time and space,” I asked. My colleague shook his head. Already Nakai and Ikezawa had made their way further down the street, holding hands the entire way. This was the first time any of had seen her happy.
“I haven’t seen any students in town all day, have you?” my friend asked with a small chuckle. I gave him a small smile and the two of us continued to make our way back to Yamaku.
In the remaining time that Nakai spent at Yamaku I never once actually spoke to him. I saw him graduate and his relationship with Ikezawa blossom, but I left no impact on his life. I was not a teacher. It was not my place to leave an impression on the students. My part was that of an observer. I was simply there to watch as the lives of these young men and women played out, and render medical assistance when needed.
All of us were background characters here, and we would have it no other way.
