[FFML] [ORIG] Untitled Japan-Based Original Fiction

[K C]

Howdy List,

I'm not writing much fiction these days, but I have been working on a story
which is heavily based on my own experiences in the Japanese school system,
with a fantastical twist, and I'm curious if the concept is one which there
may be interest in.

For the record, I'm functional in the Japanese language, I've lived in
Japan for almost a decade, and I'm even naturalising. I've chosen to avoid
many of the linguistic tropes used in Japanese media fan fiction, so I
won't be using in Japanese honorifics aside from -chan (because it has no
real English equivalent). My use of untranslated Japanese will be kept to
an absolute minimum. One can assume that the characters are speaking
entirely in Japanese, so unless the word is also used in English (kimono,
sake, katana, etc), I will be translating it into English. I have my own
system for romanisation, and I'll generally be consistent except where a
certain romanisation choice is widely accepted (Kyoto vs Kyoutou as an
example).

I acquired my Japanese school bag secondhand, and inside was a lunch ticket
with the name Takahashi Rie (well, Rie is the probable reading, you can
never be too sure with kanji, my own has two readings outside of the one I
use), her student ID number, and her class. After some day-dreaming, I
started to build a story around who my bag's previous owner was, which I am
sure bears no semblance to reality...

I look forward to your feedback.

~~~

My name is Takahashi Rie. Well, that’s my name now, in any case. I’m about
160cm tall. I have a very round face, but I’m skinny. I usually wear my
black hair cut fairly short, but still long enough to cover my ears. I’m a
junior high school student. I was born… Oh, well, I was born a long, long
time ago. Yes, it’s true. Yes, I really am a junior high school student.
Well, at least I have been for a large part of my life. It wasn’t always
this way.

There was a time in my life when I went to junior high school and then… I
left. I went on to high school. Like everyone else. And then I went on to
university. Like many people. And I found a career, writing (which I still
do, but not as Takahashi Rie). But unlike everyone around me, after about
my third year of junior high school, nothing about me really changed. I
mean, I guess, I changed inside. My experiences? My personality? I don’t
know, it was so long ago. In some ways I changed, I guess. In some ways I
think my predicament prevented me from really changing at all.

What never changed was the way I looked. In high school it was merely
annoying. People calling me small or asking me when I would finally get my
growth spurts. The worst was the way the boys would tease me about my lack
of breasts—never mind that most of the girls around me hadn’t exactly
developed much beyond what I had. In university, the teasing went away and
it was instead replaced by a sort of wonder or jealousy. I was constantly
asked what I did. What my secret was. How come I hadn’t changed in years? I
would just shrug. I didn’t know. No, I didn’t use some imported night cream
or have a special diet. Many would remark that my personality was as young
as my appearance. Grow up, Rie, or you know, whatever my name was at the
time.

By the time I was 30 (was I 30? Or had I merely turned fifteen a total of
sixteen times?) and a contributing columnist of sorts at a major newspaper,
it became very apparent to me that I wasn’t just a youthful person. I was
special, unique, and different. Different enough to stand out. And I didn’t
want to stand out. I had never been particularly excellent at anything. My
one major trait, other than my youth, was that no matter what I did, I was
honestly pretty mediocre at. Not horrid, but certainly nothing to
celebrate. I was, by all accounts, average. This is a good thing to be in
Japan, I feel. If you’re average, no one bothers you. My youthful
countenance was beginning to attract unwanted attention. I began to shun
social calls and while not exactly a recluse, I wasn’t on anyone’s party
invitation lists.

My parents died when I was 45 (or, as I call it now, 15 for the 31st time).
A freak accident. In their seventies, they were on a retirees cruise near
Okinawa when their boat struck a mine from the war. No one had expected the
mines to last that long, and most had long been cleared out years and years
before I was even born. I attended the funeral, and people had trouble
believing I was the daughter, not the granddaughter. No, I assured them, I
had no children, I was me. Now the reactions were far from positive or even
teasing. Whispers around the funerary rites told me what others were
thinking: unnatural, large amounts of plastic surgery, no way that a
middle-aged woman looks like that without her face caving in, give it five
years…

These whispers were frightening. As I looked around me, I realised, I had
no friends. I no longer had a family. I had never found myself attracted to
anyone growing up, and although my parents had arranged a fiance for me, he
had broken it off and ran off to some foreign country years before. America
or maybe it was Canada, I really couldn’t tell you now. Good riddance.
Okay... so then maybe, I uh, okay, sure, it’s true, I became a recluse,
moving into my parents' house. I had begun to write novels. Dreary horrid
pulp stuff about men and women trapped in limbo between the world of the
living and the world of the dead. They were very popular. They also took a
toll on my sanity.

I tried to excise my demons, but I think I ended up just making them
stronger. I stopped cooking, I ate only stuff from convenience stores or
fast food restaurants. Eventually, I found places which would deliver—I
stopped leaving the house at all. There was no point, between my columnist
position and my light horror novels, I was financially set. I could pay
people to do whatever needed to be done. Of course, I had also, arguably,
gone stark raving mad.

Until she came.

She had rung the doorbell, and in a fit of anger at being disturbed, I had
flung door open ready to yell… but something stopped me. This bright,
cheerful girl with the longest hair I had ever seen, kept in place with a
plaid hair band, lifted up a school bag filled hand and waved. “Good
morning!” she said eyes crinkling, cheeks dimpling, as she smiled through
the greeting. “I’m Yamazaki Mayumi! I just moved in next door with my
father, and he says I should get to know the neighbors!” She blinked,
looking at me closer. “Are you a junior high school student? How old are
you? What school do you go to? You know, I go to Kamisato, it’s the— Oh,
my, I guess I should let you actually answer a question!”

I blinked. I staggered. I nearly fell over. She was just that overpowering.
I was dazed. “I’m uh… a writer. My name is Takahashi Ri-eh?” I cut myself
off as I realised this was more human contact than I’d had in… well, a very
long time, indeed.

“Hi, Rie-chan! Wow, you’re a writer? Already? You must be really smart! I
didn’t know junior high school students could have jobs!” she exclaimed.

I scratched my head. “Umm…. Ms… Yamazaki? Aren’t you going to be late for
school or something?” I gestured to her bag and sailor uniform. “You
probably will want to get a move on, won’t you? I have to get back to
writing…”

Mayumi nodded. “Yes, I do, but… hey, don’t you? Don’t tell me you’re a high
school dropout!” She peered at me. “No, you don’t look old enough for that.
I bet you’re 14, like me! You know you’ll get in trouble if they find out
you’re not going to go to school this year!”

I rolled my eyes, “I’m not—“ but something stopped me. “My parents are
dead,” I said instead. “Died in an accident a few months ago. I was living
elsewhere. Now I’m living here, alone. And I like it that way, so please,
thank you for stopping by, but I’m afraid you have to go now.”

“NO.” She said, and grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the house. “No way!
You’re coming with me right now.” She started tugging me across my own
yard. She was surprisingly strong. Or maybe I wasn’t fighting strongly
enough. Maybe I didn’t want to really fight at all. I let her drag me all
the way out of my front gate and across the small street into the yard of
another house where a man was raking up some fallen cherry blossoms. Well,
it was that time of the year. “Papa!” she cried, “This is our neighbor,
Takahashi Rie-chan, and she’s an orphan and apparently is writing instead
of going to school! She’s got to go to school, right!?”

He sighed loudly. “Mayumi, how many times have I told you not to get into
other people’s business? Still… if she’s under the age for compulsory
education, then she could be in some trouble.” He looked at me closely. “Is
what she says true? Your parents are dead and you’re writing for money?”

For some reason as I looked into his liquid brown eyes, I felt compelled
the answer. “Yes, it’s true, my parents died a few months ago on that
cruise ship that hit the mine.” He winced. It had been national news. “And
yes, I write horror novels under a pseudonym and send them to my publisher.
I’m also writing a column for a newspaper.”

“I see…” he said slowly, “And, uh, Ms. Takahashi,” he looked me up and
down, “they have no idea they’ve employed a teenager, do they?” he said
slyly. “Yes, I suppose they don’t. Unfortunately, now that Mayumi has
brought this to my attention, I can’t pretend not to know. How old are you
anyway, you don’t look older than 15, so don’t lie to me.”

I sighed. “Mr. Yamazaki? This is really none of your business, and I really
must get back to my writing, I have deadlines, you know, and…”

He shook his head. “If you don’t come clean with me, I’m going to have to
call the police. If you were sixteen, you would have just told me, because
we both know at sixteen, you’re not required to go to school. Your
equivocating means you’re not. Sounds like my daughter was right, and
you’re not even 15 yet.”

“Well, I haven’t turned 15 *this* year yet anyway,” I said under my breath.
Or so I thought.

Mayumi’s father pursed his lips. “Not yet 15, huh. Yeah, okay. Look, come
inside, I’m not going to call the cops, but I’ll need to find out who your
closest relatives are. I’m afraid, you can’t skip school.”

I shook my head. “I have no relatives, Mr. Yamazaki. They’re all dead. Some
of them long dead. I’m afraid if you inquire further, you will only make
trouble for me, and I really wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“Now listen here, young lady, busy body as my daughter sometimes is, she
tries her best to look out for people. When she realised your
circumstances, well… She might be a bull in a china shop, but she means
well. Now, please, come inside.” He motioned to his front door. I sighed
and headed for the door. I’d be risking a lot, but I guessed maybe I could
have told me the truth. Well, maybe Yamazaki the elder. It seemed to me,
from what little I knew of her at the time, that Mayumi probably was
something of a blabbermouth. I entered the anteroom and took off my
shoes—actually, my own inside slippers, Mayumi had not given me a chance to
change. I stepped up and the Yamazakis, father and daughter, followed, Mr.
Yamazaki indicating a tatami mat sitting room where tea was already
waiting. “I was expecting a guest, but not for another hour or two. Feel
free,” he said as he sat down. “Mayumi, I’ll call the school in a bit and
tell them you’ll be late, and I’ll drive you myself.” He took a long sip of
tea. “Now, Ms. Takahashi, I’m assuming then that this would be your third
year in junior high school?”

I frowned. “I’m not a junior high school student. I haven’t been a student
of any kind of years. I just look like this. I’ve looked like this for
thirty years. Heck, I’m probably the same age as you!” I said angrily.

“…I can see why you’re successful at writing,” Mr. Yamazaki said. “That’s
quite the unbelievable fantasy, there. But I’m not a reader, and this isn’t
fantasy. Now, we’ve already established you’re 14, so there’s no sense in
continuing to lie. I understand why you want to protect your privacy, given
your family situation, but I’m ethically bound to try to get you back into
school. Especially since you’re clearly so smart. That being the case, I
have a potential solution. Did Mayumi mention she was going to Kamisato?
It’s a private junior high school and senior high school here. While Mayumi
didn’t grow up here, I did, and the principal is an old family friend. I’m
sure if we explained the situation to him, you could be admitted without
too much trouble. The tuition isn’t very high, and I have the feeling you
have the money, am I right?”

I cocked my head and my eyes blinked. “Let me get this straight, you want
to help me become a junior high school student again?”

He nodded. “Well, yes, because that’s what you are. I imagine this is a lot
easier than me phoning child welfare. I hear the system is just hideous.
You’re not too far from 16, you have a place to live, you have assets. I
think we can avoid that. I mean, technically… It’s probably not strictly
legal.” He shuddered. “No, I have heard too many stories about what happens
when children, especially teenagers, are placed in homes. I don’t think
that’s necessary in your case."

Mayumi grabbed my arm, sending shockwaves up my spine. “Oh, do it,
Rie-chan! Then you can come to school with me, and we’ll make sure your
family situation remains private, okay?”

Okay…

And just like that I was in Mr. Yamazaki’s car, sitting next to Mayumi, on
my way to Kamisato Private Girls Junior and Senior High School. Then I was
out the door, meeting the principal and headed into his office. I was in
trouble. Everything I’d worked to build shutting myself off from the world
was about to fall apart. Mr. Takahashi and Mayumi might not believe me, and
the principal might not want to believe me, but my documents, which I had
carefully collected from boxes would tell the tale. I was not 14. I wasn’t
15. I was 45, and although I’d spent the last twenty years avoiding people,
and having my lawyer deal with issues of taxes, pensions, etc (things I
didn’t understand and never had wanted to understand), I wasn’t a ghost.

I thought the paperwork would be a lot harder. That I would have to provide
a birth certificate or a previous ID card or something... but surprisingly,
they didn’t really ask for proof. I filled out my name, choosing
appropriate kanji for Rie—it seemed fitting. If I was going to be Mayumi’s
fake junior high school student, I guessed I should use her fake name for
me, too. Everything else I filled out exactly as it was on my genuine
documents, save for my birthdate. I was 14. Again. I was a third year
junior high school student. Again.

I had a life. Again. I just… wasn’t sure it was mine.
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