Twenty-Nine... Plus Fifteen Months

As soon as the bell rang signaling the end of class, Shizuka Hiratsuka left the classroom in a rush, heading straight for a cigarette break. One reason her language arts class was so popular might have been because she never held students back after class.

Even though Hiratsuka-sensei often did things that seemed unreliable, her teaching was solid, and her students' grades were consistently good. Despite her laid-back image, she was a dependable teacher with results to show for it.

The head of the first-year department at Sobu High School, a rather traditional woman in her fifties, never understood why Hiratsuka liked smoking and drinking. She often looked for opportunities to lecture her, intending to tell her to be more attentive to her students. However, given Hiratsuka's class results, there wasn't much room for criticism, leaving the department head with only one thing to say: "Please smoke and drink less."

Of course, Hiratsuka let such advice go in one ear and out the other. She didn't listen to it at all.

"Finally... I made it through a class. Time for a cigarette," Hiratsuka said with satisfaction, lighting up as she stood by the window of the teachers' office.

Her habit of smoking often drew complaints from her mother. So, whenever she was at home, she tried to cut back, even avoiding alcohol as much as possible. After all, despite being 30, in front of her strong-willed mother, she was still like a little chick.

"I was wondering why the window in the office was open. Turns out it's because you're smoking again, Shizuka."

The lazy tone of a familiar voice reached her ears. Hiratsuka turned around, cigarette between her lips, to see Chihiro Sengoku standing at the doorway.

"You're the last person I want to hear that from, you drunk," Hiratsuka shot back.

"My tolerance for alcohol is way better than yours," Chihiro teased, sitting down on a chair. "By the way, the grilled meat we had at that Anjima place last time was amazing. Let's go again after school today. Things are going to get busy soon, and I won't be able to drink with you as much."

"Yeah, of course, let's go. But what's keeping a simple art teacher like you so busy?"

"Don't underestimate me!" Chihiro waved her hand dismissively. "Even though I don't teach art that often—barely enough to count on all my fingers and toes—it's because teachers like you guys are always stealing my class hours!"

"For the record, I teach language arts."

"Same difference!" Chihiro didn't seem to care much about Hiratsuka's correction, as she had never quite bothered to remember Hiratsuka's actual subject. Today, she called her an English teacher; last time, she thought she was a math teacher. The time before, she even referred to her as a university professor.

If I were a university professor, why on earth would I still be teaching at a high school? Hiratsuka thought to herself with a silent grumble.

"Anyway, in a few days, I'll be helping the art club prepare for the Tokyo University National Youth Art Awards. As the advisor for Sobu High School's art club, I've got a responsibility to make sure things go well. Three students are participating this year, so I need to step up."

"Three? I thought it was just two—Izumi Kotomi from our class and Hibiki Naegi from 2-B."

"There's one more now—another student from Class 1-F, my cousin."

"So Mashiro Shiina is participating as well?"

"Exactly. She's won a lot of awards already, but someone as skilled as her can never have too many accolades."

"You sound really proud of her. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were the one winning the awards," Hiratsuka remarked with a hint of sarcasm.

"I've got a lot of confidence in my cousin. She might even win the National Youth Art Award on her first try! If she does, just that one award will make my end-of-term teacher report write itself!"

Chihiro smiled smugly, clearly enjoying the thought. If she had a tail, it would probably be wagging with pride.

"So the art club has three students entering the competition this year."

"That's right. But in reality, who can compare to Mashiro? Her talent is beyond mere genius—she's a world-class artist. No matter how hard others work, no matter how much natural talent they have, standing next to her is like being a star beside the moon. Stars have their own light, but in the presence of the moon, their glow becomes as faint as fireflies."

Chihiro's words might have sounded exaggerated, but anyone who had seen Mashiro's work would understand they weren't. In fact, some might say Chihiro was understating it.

In the face of Mashiro's talent, many artists didn't even seem like stars. They were mere specks of dust.

"So, you're saying that out of the three students entering the competition, only Mashiro has a real chance of winning?"

"Something like that. It's not that I'm biased because she's my cousin. The first time I saw Mashiro's drawings as a child, I realized just how vast the gap between us was. The things I struggled to achieve after years of hard work were just the starting line for her. No, they weren't even the start."

Chihiro's tone carried a note of resignation, though she was the type to take things in stride.

Back when Mashiro was in a British art studio, over thirty other children of the same age had been left struggling and demoralized by her abilities. Eventually, they gave up and quietly left.

"I don't like to make predictions before the results are out," Hiratsuka said, giving her opinion.

"Fair enough. In the end, I just want to see someone from Sobu High School's art club win the award. Whoever it turns out to be, I'm looking forward to it." Chihiro smiled and patted Hiratsuka on the shoulder. "Since my little cousin is now in your class, take good care of her for me."

"I'll take the most expensive tempura on the menu."

"Jeez, Shizuka, you really know how to bleed my wallet. Better be careful, or you'll never find a boyfriend."

"Mind your own business! You haven't had a single relationship either!"

"I'm not thirty yet! I'm twenty-nine... plus fifteen months!" Chihiro insisted.

Some women become sensitive about their age after twenty-five, and by the time they reach thirty, they want to stay forever twenty-nine.

"Well, then stop calling me thirty. I'm twenty-nine... plus twelve months!"

Hiratsuka stubbed out her cigarette and said, "By the way, I don't have to go out of my way to look after your cousin. The moment she joined our class, she gravitated towards Izumi Kotomi. She even picked the seat right behind hers."

"Really? I had a feeling they'd get along well. But wait, isn't Kotomi seated by the window in the sixth row? Doesn't your class only have six rows?"

"That's right, but now there's a seventh row. Although it's just Mashiro sitting by herself. She picked that spot to be closest to Kotomi."

"It sounds like they've already hit it off! If their relationship stays this good, I'll be relieved," Chihiro said with a laugh.

Back in the classroom.

"When did you arrive in Japan, Shiina-san?"

"Shiina-san, is your hair dyed or natural?"

"If it's natural, then it's just like Kotomi's. One with naturally white hair, the other with naturally blonde hair."

"Shiina-san, I heard you joined the art club too. Do you love drawing?"

As soon as class ended, a group of students crowded around Mashiro's desk, bombarding her with questions. Although Mashiro's expression remained calm, Kotomi could tell right away—Mashiro wasn't calm at all; she was confused!

Mashiro clearly wasn't used to handling this kind of situation.

Kotomi thought for a moment, then turned to Mashiro and said, "Mashiro, do you want to take a walk around the school?"

Hearing Kotomi's voice, Mashiro's previously blank orange-red eyes immediately lit up. Without hesitation, she nodded.

"I want to!"