“Drink some more, Ikeda-san!” an older teacher raised his glass in a toast to a newbie. The poor newbie raised his half-full glass in a toast, too, to be polite. Poor young man, he didn’t seem like a strong drinker.
“Tanabe-san, don’t bully a junior like that,” another senior teacher roared in laughter, chugging down the beer in his glass. Another teacher next to him—far younger than he was—poured more beer to the old man’s empty glass.
All the while the crowd was loud, Chiharu sat at the corner silently. She didn’t really like a drinking party, as the senior teachers would probably be forcing new recruits to drink to the point of passing out. In the end, two or three new recruits would pass out and two or three sober teachers would take care of them while the men left them to the after party.
The first year Chiharu became a teacher, the newbies—including her—were forced to drink a lot by the senior teachers. She ended up having to take care of several drunk colleagues. She wasn’t drunk, though. Contrary to what people thought, her alcohol tolerance was high.
The second year of teaching, a single new teacher was told to drink so much he puked and passed out.
Now, her third year, and the single new teacher was being poured several drinks at once. Chiharu knew where this was going, and she didn’t like it. She averted her gaze away from the crowds, sipping more of her iced tea. She had had enough alcohol for tonight—better cut it off before it was too late.
“Are you alright, Tachibana-san?” another colleague next to Chiharu—Sara—glanced; concern gleamed in her eyes.
“I’m alright, Kashiwa-san,” Chiharu replied with a polite smile of reassurance, nodding once. Sara had been Chiharu’s friend since they started teaching at the same year. They shared small talks and exchanged greetings every now and then. Compared to a lot of other teachers, Sara was the closest to Chiharu.
Sara started teaching as it had always been her dream. She liked teaching others, and her specialty was studying. Being around kids was also something Sara enjoyed—though, in their case, highschoolers. Which was fine by her—teenagers were fun to be with. She had become one of the favorite teachers.
Contrary to Sara’s outgoing nature, Chiharu kept a lot to herself. She wasn’t necessarily strict or any of that, but she didn’t talk much. Sometimes, she thought she wasn’t fitting to become a teacher. Perhaps, that was true. After all, she had never dreamed of becoming a teacher. For her, it was a last-minute decision. Even now, she wasn’t exactly sure why she became a teacher. All she knew was that she wanted to come back to this school—the school where her lingering regret remained haunting.
As though the time could turn back to redo the moment in her life.
--
The night went by fairly calm—until 10 PM, where they decided to end the party.
As expected, several teachers were dead drunk. The principal had gone with a few drunk old men and two younger men for an after party. Poor new recruit couldn’t run away from the principal’s grasp.
Chiharu couldn’t care less about the group. Plenty of drunkards needed to be taken care of, and they were her priority right now. She, Sara, and a small number of sober teachers were left—which was kind of interesting.
“It’s rare that you’re still sober,” Chiharu made a small banter to Sara.
“Ehh? I can’t be drunk all the time, right?” Sara winked playfully, then diverted her attention to one of the drunks.
Chiharu snorted, before averting her attention away. She slung one of the teacher’s arm around her shoulder and picked him up. Fortunately, it didn’t require her much strength. She dragged the teacher carefully out the Izakaya to the main street. Finding a vacant taxi, she stopped one of them. “Kage-sensei, can you tell the driver your address?” she asked the teacher, as she sat him up on the backseat. The teacher gave an incoherent answer. Sighing, Chiharu told the driver an address to take Kage home.
When the taxi was no longer on her line of sight, Chiharu sighed in relief. “Alright, one down,” she put her hands on her hips, straightening her back before she went back inside.
“Chiharu?”
A voice so familiar—a voice saturated with lingering feelings—called out to her. Chiharu’s heart fell—she never expected to hear that voice once more in her lifetime. Although she wished for the voice every day, engraving it deep into her mind to the point of unforgettable—she dared not to wish for more. She never wished even in her wildest dream to hear that voice ever again.
But, when she swiveled her attention slowly, her eyes caught on the familiarity of the voice’s owner.
The dark hair Chiharu recognized the most, the soft eyes masking her true feelings, the cheeks blushed from the cold night breeze.
As their gaze met, the woman smiled and tipped her head to the side. It was the face Chiharu knew the most.
Ichika.
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