The Burden of a Troublemaker

That day, I found myself called to the teachers' office again.

Mr. Osmond regarded me with a look that could only be described as pity, and it hurt just enough to be bothersome.

"Akatani, you went too far this time."

"I didn't intend for things to go this far; it could be considered an accident," I argued.

"The requirements for self-defense are stricter than most people think. And when the other guy's got broken arms and his face is smashed, it's a bit hard to defend you."

"Does that mean it's still possible to defend me?" I tried, hopeful.

"Let me correct myself. It's indefensible," he said.

"Indefensible is such a harsh word, sir. I'd appreciate it if you used something a bit less absolute," I said.

"Then make it so I don't have to, Akatani," Mr. Osmond sighed, rubbing his temple.

"Are you some kind of trouble magnet?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure that's not even a real phrase in Japanese, sir."