You're a Student, I'm a Teacher
You're a student, and I'm a teacher.
It was a shock.
Not because the first person I ran into the moment I stepped into the school was Harin's homeroom teacher, but because that so-called dad of hers still didn't even know her teacher's name a full week into the new semester. That was the real shocker.
At this point I was starting to think the friction between father and daughter might not be entirely Harin's tightly shut heart. But if she wouldn't talk about it herself, how was I supposed to know...?
"H-Harin's homeroom teacher, I take it? I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. Actually, I'm Harin's..."
Wait! Without realizing it I had almost slipped into ordinary parent mode and revealed my identity. But I hadn't forgotten I was currently cosplaying as a high-school boy, right?
"Are you by any chance Harin's older brother? Though I heard she's an only child..."
"C-cousin, actually. Harin's father is my fifteenth-degree uncle on the paternal side."
"I see... Wait. Fifteenth-degree uncle? That's basically a stranger, isn't it?"
"Exactly. So Harin doesn't even know she has a cousin like me. But her fifteenth-degree uncle asked me to keep an eye on his daughter now that she's transferred here."
"Is that what it was?"
Ms. Eunju nodded along as if she truly believed every word. It was a paper-thin lie, yet she seemed to operate under the assumption that no student would ever dare feed a teacher a line of pure nonsense.
"Anyway, about Harin—why do you ask?"
Well, the time had come to dig into Harin in earnest. Parent-teacher conferences were clearly off the table for the next year, so I had to extract every scrap of information today.
"Is Harin having any trouble at school? Grades suddenly tanking, sneaking up to the rooftop alone with a gloomy face and sighing, hanging out with the wrong crowd... anything like that?"
"Ah... sorry. Like I said earlier, this is my first year teaching and I've only been her homeroom teacher for a week, so I don't really know that much yet..."
Fair enough. I'd been living with Harin for four months and still knew next to nothing about her—what could a one-week homeroom teacher possibly know?
Ms. Eunju, for her part, was berating herself for being unable to tell me a single useful thing about the girl.
"Ugh... I guess I'm just not cut out to be a good teacher. I don't know anything about my own students..."
"That's not true at all. It's only been a week—of course you wouldn't know everything yet. It's probably nothing serious, so try not to worry too much. Do you at least know who Harin's close friends are?"
"Close friends? That I don't... Ah! Eunju seems to talk to her sometimes, helping her settle in."
"Eunju... does?"
Aren't you Eunju? Why are you suddenly referring to yourself in the third person?
The way she said it was so cute I wanted to poke her cheeks, but still—not exactly the kind of phrasing a teacher should use in front of a parent.
"Ah... not me. I mean Park Eunju from my class. We have the same name."
Ms. Eunju waved both hands frantically, insisting I not get the wrong idea. So that was why it felt off—there were two Eunjus at this school. Common enough name, I supposed.
"Then I'll go ask that Eunju. Thanks for the chat, by the way. Shouldn't you be heading inside soon?"
"Hm? I should, but... ugh..."
"..."
I tried every polite way to usher Ms. Eunju back inside first, yet she just stood there heaving sighs deep enough to sink into the earth, not moving an inch. On top of that she kept staring at me with distant eyes, swallowing dryly.
What was this? Was I the only one hearing "I listened to you, so now you listen to me" in that look?
"Is something on your mind, Teacher?"
"On my mind? Oh, plenty. Actually, the student I was counseling earlier was Eunju, and... Ah! No! You're a student, and I'm a teacher!"
"...?"
The sudden about-face startled me more than anything. I understood what the line meant, but it had zero connection to the current situation.
"Teacher? What are you talking about all of a sudden...?"
"Exactly what I said. You're a student and I'm a teacher. Dumping my worries on a student just because I have some would mean I'm not fit to be a teacher!"
"O-oh, that was what you meant? If it makes you uncomfortable, you really don't have to tell me."
"Ugh... You're right. Students don't care one bit what kind of worries their teachers have anyway..."
"..."
Did she want me to listen or not? She clearly felt the weight of a problem she couldn't handle alone, yet her pride as a teacher refused to let her unload it on a student.
"How about this, Teacher? Honestly, I don't want to put any pressure on Harin by letting her know a distant relative is at the same school. So if you keep quiet about the questions I just asked regarding Harin, I'll keep quiet about whatever you tell me."
"R-really? But you'll definitely tell your friends that I said all this..."
"I've only just transferred—I don't know a single person here. And I've been laser-focused on college for so long that I have zero interest in expanding my social circle. So trust me and just say it."
"Ah... but still..."
Ms. Eunju seemed to wrestle with whether she could trust me several times over. Then she finally nodded, decision made.
"The student I was counseling earlier is Eunju. She's been a good student with a good personality since first year, class president all the way through last year. So when we held the class-president election last week everyone recommended her again—but she suddenly refused."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure myself, but from what her friends say it sounded like she was planning to run for student-council vice president. That's what I thought too."
"But she turned down the vice-president candidacy as well?"
"Right. When the registration period opened and she still hadn't signed up, I asked her and she said she had no intention of running. I asked why several times, but she wouldn't give me a single answer, so... ugh..."
Now the earlier conversation made sense. Not that Ms. Eunju's worry was fully understandable even with that explanation.
"But... if she herself doesn't want to run, you can't force her, can you? Or is there pressure coming from her parents?"
I knew better than anyone how often student and parent opinions clashed. Ms. Eunju, as a teacher, must have been unable to withstand the parental pressure to get their daughter elected vice president.
"N... no? Her parents haven't said a word."
"Oh, they haven't? Then just respect her own wishes."
"Ugh... I know that, but something feels off. It wasn't that Eunju didn't want to run—it felt more like there was some unavoidable reason she couldn't."
"Uh... maybe that's just your imagination, Teacher? She might simply have lost interest in titles like class president or vice president."
"For what reason?"
"..."
You're the homeroom teacher and you don't know—how am I supposed to? But she had, surprisingly, hit a blind spot.
Because in this world there is no such thing as "just because I felt like it."
I am living proof. People laughed and mocked me when I suddenly abandoned a bright future to become a sailor.
They figured I was doing something stupid for no reason. But I had my own perfectly valid reasons.
From what Ms. Eunju described, this Eunju girl was fundamentally the leadership type. Having been class president right up through last year and then suddenly trying to step away from every responsibility this year was too abrupt a break in consistency.
Ms. Eunju stared holes through me, silently begging for an answer. But unless I could climb inside Eunju's head, how was I supposed to know?
"Even if you look at me like that... you said she wouldn't even tell you, right?"
"Ugh... true. Students only talk to other students. They never tell teachers anything..."
"You're not seriously asking me to go ask Eunju why, are you?"
"Me? Of course not! You're a student, and I'm a teacher! I don't want to be the kind of teacher who makes requests like that of her students!"
"..."
She said the words, yet she still couldn't tear those wistful eyes away from me. The corners of her tightly pressed lips drooped, and her clasped hands looked like they were desperately wishing for something.
"Haa... Fine. I'll ask her once."
"Ah... you really don't have to... And if you suddenly bring it up she'll definitely suspect me."
"I'll make sure she never thinks you put me up to it. In exchange, you keep everything I asked about Harin an absolute secret from her."
"Really? You'll really do that for me?"
If I was already going to approach this Eunju girl to ask about Harin, slipping in one extra question wouldn't be hard.
Besides, I had only promised to ask for the reason—I never said I would bring back the answer Ms. Eunju wanted.
A soft flush colored her cheeks.
Ms. Eunju finally smiled as if a long-standing indigestion had cleared. For all I knew, I might have accepted the deal just to see that bright smile.
Even while cosplaying as a high-school boy, the real me was still a hopelessly soft-hearted man in his thirties. And it never hurt to stay on good terms with your daughter's homeroom teacher.
Ding-dong... ding-dong...
The lunch bell rang right on cue. Ms. Eunju stood up and casually tossed out a question.
"Oh? By the way, what year and class are you even—"
Tadadak!
I had already been primed to bolt the second that question started forming, and thank goodness for that. It was lunchtime—if I took off without so much as a goodbye to go eat, she would understand.