Dull, high-pitched laughter reverberated through every corner of the classroom. I watched the other children play together in the distance while I remained tucked away in my own corner.
The teacher approached me and lightly rested a hand on my shoulder. I turned toward her with teary eyes. She gave me a gentle smile, then crouched down and patted my head.
"Why don't you go join them?" she said, pronouncing each syllable slowly.
But no matter how much she tried, I couldn't understand her. It wasn't that I was dumb or anything; it was because I was not native to where I lived. I didn't speak the same language they did. Every word she spoke was like a barrier I didn't know how to climb.
When I showed no signs of comprehension, the teacher sighed softly and nudged me forward. Before I realized it, I was standing face-to-face with a group of kids who had been playing. They stopped what they were doing and stared at me with wide eyes.
My heart raced under the suffocating pressure of their gazes.
Please, stop looking at me like that…
"Guys, this is Hoshino," the teacher said. "Can you all try to get along with him?"
They all nodded.
The teacher gave one last smile, then walked away. The moment the teacher was gone, they all surrounded me with bright smiles.
"Hey, where are you from?"
"What do you like doing?"
"What's your favourite colour?"
"Do you want to play with us?"
Their words blurred together. My thoughts spiralled as I struggled to keep up. I tried repeating the sounds that I had been taught, but they came out as an unintelligible jumble.
The kids froze, then turned to each other. After a brief pause, they all burst out laughing.
"Hahaha, what was that?"
"I don't know, but that was pretty funny!"
"Hey, do it again!"
"You're hilarious!"
Their laughter twisted in my ears, warping into something sharp and unbearable. It felt like the sound was pressing against my skull.
I hung my head and covered my ears tightly.
Did I do something wrong?
Why are they laughing at me?
Someone, please help me…
When the kids noticed my reaction, the laughter stopped. They all looked at me with an expression I couldn't understand at the time.
They all approached me with slow, steady steps. I tried running away, but my legs wouldn't move.
No… stay away!
Two kids grabbed both of my arms and pulled them away from my ears.
"Hey, we're sorry."
"We didn't mean to hurt you."
But no matter what they said, I couldn't understand. All I knew at the time was that I was being surrounded—pinned in place, and held down.
D-don't… Don't touch me!
I gritted my teeth and thrashed my body violently. The kids who had been holding me down were thrown backward, crashing into the others and knocking them to the floor in a tangled heap.
A sudden, sharp cry pierced the room. I turned around and saw a girl crying beneath one of the boys who had fallen onto her. Everything stopped. The other kids. The adults. The teachers. All eyes turned to her. Then toward me.
My body went rigid.
"Hoshino! What have you done!"
The teacher rushed over, her heels clicking intensely on the ground. With each click, a mounting pressure accumulated in my chest. She crouched down, grabbed me by the shoulders, and shook me.
"Hoshino, that's not how you make friends. You have to apologize to her!"
She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me towards the crying girl. The other children stepped back as I passed. But that wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was… the way they looked at me. It was the same look people at the park gave me when Dad twisted my ear—scorn, pity, avoidance. All of it. It was a feeling much more dreadful than something even my Father could accomplish.
Eventually, the teacher let go of my arm and turned her attention towards the girl, calming her down before facing me again.
"Hoshino, say 'I'm sorry.' Try repeating after me."
I tried doing as I was told, but my mouth struggled to form the proper pronunciations. With every mistake I made, the teacher would correct me relentlessly and encourage me to try again. After what felt like an eternity, I finally managed to say it.
"I-I-m–I'm. S-soo-ry. Sorry."
The teacher gave me a firm nod.
Maybe any other kid would have felt accomplished in this situation, but I felt nothing. Being told that I was wrong over and over again in front of the entire class and being forced to keep repeating it until I got it right crushed my spirit.
"Good job," the teacher said, congratulating me. She then turned to the girl and asked, "Now, Mei, what should you say to him?"
The girl stared at me with uncertain eyes. "It's okay… I forgive you."
The teacher beamed.
"Good job, you two!" she exclaimed as she gently rubbed our heads. "Now, everyone, let's clap for them. It takes a lot to apologize and a lot to forgive, so let's congratulate them for doing their best!"
The room filled with applause. I looked around once more. The dark looks from before were gone, replaced with bright, cheerful smiles as they congratulated the two of us.
"Mei, you're so nice!"
"It takes a real man to know when he's wrong. Good job, Hoshino!"
For some reason, everyone looked genuinely happy. I felt like I should have been happy, too. Like I had just done something right.
I should do that too, then.
So, I put on a smile.
When they saw that, the clapping grew louder, but it didn't sound any less mechanical in my ears.
For some reason—maybe it was guilt—I looked back at Mei one more time. The moment I did, I froze.
She, too, wore a smile.