Genesis [3]

The sound of traffic hummed around me. A familiar song played on the radio, a simple, but catchy melody followed by a subtle violin staccato filled the car's interior with a bittersweat vibe. My father, gripping the steering wheel with one hand, tapped his fingers on it in time with the beat. His eyes remained fixed on the road, but there was a satisfied look on his face.

"Ricky, today's your first day. Are you nervous?" Came my mother's voice from the passenger seat. I glanced at her, her eyes sparkling with both excitement and concern.

"No, it will be fun." I replied, flashing a big smile. And I meant it. Finally, I would be doing something on my own. I loved being around my parents, but the adult part of me craved independence. A sigh escaped my lips as I pondered this. I wasn't truly an adult. Well, mentally I was, but in this six-year-old body, it was hard to assert that.

The cityscape blurred past the car windows, tall buildings and busy streets alive with movement, people bustled on the sidewalks.

"Ricky's so mature, right, dear?" My mother said, her voice brimming with pride as she turned to look at me. Her eyes were soft and full of warmth. My father nodded in agreement, a subtle smile playing on his lips as he continued to tap his fingers to the beat.

As we drove closer to my new school, the buildings around us changed, becoming more suburban and less imposing. Trees lined the streets, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. The car's interior smelled faintly of my mother's perfume, mixed with the fresh scent of fresh air coming in through the slightly open window.

The school loomed ahead, a large brick building with a playground full of children laughing and playing. My stomach churned with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. .

As we pulled into the drop-off zone, my mother turned to me once more. "You're going to do great, Ricky." she said, her voice a soothing balm to my nerves. My father reached over and gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Go get 'em, champ." he said with a grin.

I took a deep breath, opened the car door, and stepped out. The air was crisp and filled with the sound of children's voices, loud and slightly annoying. It was a symphony of excitement, chatter, and laughter that grated on my nerves. I squared my shoulders, trying to channel the confidence I had projected earlier.

The school's facade loomed ahead, a mix of brick and glass that seemed both welcoming and intimidating. As I walked towards the entrance, I noticed a young woman standing near the doors. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. She wore a friendly smile and a colorful lanyard around her neck, indicating she was probably a teacher or an assistant.

"You must be little Ricky, right?" she asked, her voice calm and reassuring. Her chestnut eyes met mine, filled with warmth and care. The sound of her voice was a stark contrast to the chaotic noise around us, like a soothing melody cutting through the din.

"Come with me, I'll take you to your class." She extended her hand to me, and after a moment's hesitation, I grabbed it. Her hand was soft and warm, a small comfort in this overwhelming new environment. I glanced back towards the car and saw my mother waving at me, her face a mixture of pride and sadness.

I gave her a slight grin and waved back, trying to muster the enthusiasm she expected. "Love you, Ricky." She called out as the car engine roared to life again. The car drove away, leaving me standing there with the young woman, my cheeks flushing as I watched the car going away.

The woman chuckled lightly and led me through the school's entrance, the hallway buzzing with activity. Lockers slammed, kids chattered in groups, and the scent of freshly polished floors mixed with the faint aroma of cafeteria food. My senses were assaulted from all directions, and I tightened my grip on her hand.

"Don't worry, Ricky. You're going to do great." she said, sensing my unease. Despite what she was thinking, I wasn't nervous because it was my first day at school. Instead, I was nervous because I'd had to pretend to be a kid in front of many strangers. With my mind racing, we walked past colorful bulletin boards filled with student artwork and announcements.

As we approached my classroom, my heart pounded harder. The door was open, and inside, children were already seated, chatting animatedly or looking curiously at their new surroundings. The woman knelt down to my level, her eyes meeting mine once more.

"Here we are," she said softly. "Your teacher is Mrs. Thompson, and she's wonderful. If you need anything, just ask her, okay?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Okay."

She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "Have a great first day, Ricky." With that, she stood up and walked away, leaving me at the threshold of my new world.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the classroom, feeling like I was walking onto a stage. The chatter subsided slightly as the other kids noticed me, their eyes following my every move. I found an empty seat and sat down, my back straight and my hands clenched into fists under the desk.

As I settled in, I couldn't help but focus on Mrs. Thompson. She was a kind-looking woman with graying hair and a warm smile that made her eyes crinkle at the corners. Her voice was calm and soothing as she began to speak, explaining basic addition and subtraction to the class. I tried to push aside my nerves and concentrate on her words.

Luckily or unluckily, I had already studied everything she was teaching. After all, addition and subtraction are the basics of an adult's life. Finishing her explanation, she handed out a sheet of paper with math problems on it. I sighed as I looked around at the other kids, all diligently working on their sheets.

As they wrote, I tried to follow their rhythm. The sheet had ten questions, and I purposefully answered seven of them correctly. I wanted to get them all right, but I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to myself. I watched as the other kids furrowed their brows in concentration.

I glanced around the room, taking in the colorful posters on the walls depicting numbers, letters, and cheerful cartoon characters. Bright sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the desks. The soft murmur of my classmates working filled the air, accompanied by the occasional scrape of a pencil or rustle of paper. Soon enough, Mrs. Thompson came around and collected the sheets, her gentle smile reassuring us all.

"Now, kids, we're going to have our music class. Are you excited?" She asked, her bright smile making the wrinkles in her forehead and eyes even more pronounced.

In response to her question, the kids around me shouted excitedly: "Yeeees!" Their enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but feel a small spark of anticipation myself.

Mrs. Thompson led us out of the classroom, and we walked in a somewhat orderly line down the corridor. The walls here were decorated with students' artwork, colorful drawings and paintings that added a personal touch to the otherwise plain space. We stopped in front of a door, and behind it, I could hear the soft, melodious sound of a piano playing.

When Mrs. Thompson opened the door, I saw the same woman who had brought me to the classroom earlier, sitting at the piano. Her fingers danced gracefully over the keys, producing a beautiful melody that filled the room.

"She's Ms. Mary. She's this class's assistant. Say hi to her." Mrs. Thompson said, her voice full of warmth.

All the kids said in unison, "Hi, Ms. Mary." Ms. Mary looked up from the piano, her face lighting up with a friendly smile.

"Hello, everyone! I'm so excited to be with you today." She said, her voice warm and inviting. We walked into the room and sat down in a half-circle around the piano, our eyes wide with curiosity.

"Does anyone here know what this is?" She asked, pointing at the piano with an exaggerated gesture, making sure to catch everyone's attention.

Without thinking, I raised my hand instinctively. Ms. Mary noticed and beamed at me. "Ricky, do you know what this is?" She asked again, her tone gentle and encouraging, meant to coax a response from a young child.

It slightly annoyed me that she asked again despite my raised hand, but I understood she was just making sure everyone was following along. I nodded confidently. "It's a piano."

Ms. Mary nodded approvingly. "Very well done, Ricky!" she said, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Since you answered correctly, would you like to be the first one to play?"

Excitement surged through me, and I quickly nodded, eager to show off a bit. As I stood up, my heart pounded with a mix of nerves and anticipation. The other kids watched me with a mixture of curiosity and awe.

Ms. Mary gently guided me to the piano bench. "Now, Ricky, just press a few keys and see what sounds they make." she said, her voice soft and encouraging.

I placed my small hands on the keys, feeling the smooth, cool surface under my fingertips. The piano was slightly too big for me, but I managed to press a few keys, producing a series of notes that echoed through the room. I played the Do-Re-Mi song, while my feets were swinging in the air and my head turning to the sides. 

The other kids clapped and cheered. I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride. Ms. Mary patted my shoulder gently. "That was wonderful, Ricky! Thank you for sharing with us." Her eyes were slightly wide, as she looked at me. To me, she looked surprised.

I returned to my seat, my heart still racing, but with a newfound confidence. As the lesson continued, Ms. Mary introduced us to more musical concepts, her explanations simple and engaging. She made sure to involve everyone, asking questions and encouraging us to participate.

From my seat, I observed her closely. Her patience and warmth made the learning environment feel safe and inviting. The other children seemed to respond well to her, their faces lighting up with understanding and excitement.

The day seemed to pass in a blur of classes and activities, each hour melting into the next without much notice. However, as I sat through my lessons, I couldn't help but notice something peculiar. Groups of kids had already formed cliques and friendships, chatting and laughing together during breaks. I, on the other hand, remained on the outskirts, not bothering to engage with anyone. It wasn't that I cared much about being included; after all, they were just kids. But the realization lingered in my mind nonetheless.

As the final class of the day came to an end, I heard a familiar voice calling my name in a sing-song tone, "Rickyyyy..." I didn't even bother to turn my head, knowing exactly who it was. Moments later, I felt a warm embrace from behind, and strands of golden hair cascaded in front of me.

"Did you have fun, my little boy?" Mom's concerned voice broke through my thoughts. I let out an internal sigh, my ear turning slightly red as I tried to muster a cute response. "Yeees, Mom. It was reeeeaaally fun." I replied, forcing a smile and trying to sound enthusiastic.

She looked down at me with a mixture of amusement and affection, her eyes filled with maternal warmth. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling a bit self-conscious. Mom always had a way of making me feel like a child, even though my mind often rebelled against that notion.

As we walked home together, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being out of place. It wasn't that I disliked being a kid again; it was just the constant reminder of my past life that nagged at me. Despite my efforts to fit in and act the part, there was always a part of me that felt disconnected from the world around me.

But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present, listening mom chatter about her day.

Suddenly, a new voice cut through the din of my thoughts. Ms. Mary, my music teacher, approached us with a friendly smile. "Hello, I'm Mary, Ricky's music teacher." She introduced herself to Mom, who looked up with a slight startle, her ears turning a faint shade of red. I could tell she hadn't expected Ms. Mary's sudden appearance.

Mom released me from her hold, and I stood up as Ms. Mary and Mom exchanged greetings. "Hello, I'm Aoi, Ricky's mother," Mom replied with a polite bow.

"Nice to meet you." Ms. Mary responded before turning her attention to me. "Well, I wanted to ask, does Ricky already go to some sort of music class?" Her question caught Mom off guard, and I could see the confusion in her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Mom asked, clearly puzzled. Ms. Mary gestured towards me and explained, "Little Ricky seems to know how to play a song on the piano, that's why I asked." As Ms. Mary's gaze lingered on me, I squirmed in my seat, a mix of pride and embarrassment swirling within me. Being singled out like this felt strange, especially for something as mundane as playing the piano, a skill I had picked up in my past life as one of my few hobbies.

Mom's expression softened, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Is that true, Ricky?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of surprise.

Caught off guard and unable to explain how I possessed such knowledge, I opted for the classic innocent response. "Hmmm? I don't know. Just played like I heard on the radio." I replied casually, feigning ignorance.

Mom looked at me with surprise, her eyes wide with curiosity. "So, do you want to become a pianist when you grow up?" she asked, leaning in with genuine interest.

I shook my head in denial. "No, I want to become an actor." I declared confidently. Both Mom and Ms. Mary turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement.

"An actor, huh? I guess my pretty boy would be a great actor." Mom remarked, her eyes sparkling with affection. But deep down, I sensed that she didn't take my declaration too seriously. After all, it was just a kid's dream, and dreams are often as fleeting as the wind, easily changing with the passage of time.