[Job] Homework Is So...

Lazily, I insert the finished sheet of paper back into the book and slowly bring the cover so that it was pointing only slightly to the side of its contents, allowing gravity to bring it closed on its own power. The other homework I could do was some 'response' sheet that I didn't care about. I had been asked to read a passage in a book and then answer the questions which bordered on the 'How does that make you feel?' and 'Explain a similar childhood event you had'; the type of questions you'd hear from a therapist. It made me wonder if it was a conspiracy they were planning to see who actually needed therapy. Or maybe the school was some underground government facility that looked for people like me, who experienced a shocking event earlier in life that left them with magnificent powers?

Pff, no way. Even if they did, I wouldn't care. Getting worked up about it would be the number one way to get caught. So instead of focusing on that, I pull the book out from my suitcase under the table and open it to the passage so I can give it an actual real read. But, as I do, my watch gives a ring and tells me that I needed to leave for school now. "What a hassle.." I murmur, getting up from my comfortable spot. I throw the few things left unpacked into the bag and grab my pen, sticking it in my ear. Then, I tear a sheet of scrap paper out of a nearby notebook and fold it twice, sticking it in the back of the book. I had memorized the questions asked, and I would simply read the book on the way to school like I normally did with 'reading' assignments.

On the way down the hill, I could feel the glances I got from other students and citizens alike. The curious looks that asked what I was doing, but I didn't let it bother me. It was four and a half pages, and the faster I finished, the faster I could get started on the writing portion of the assignment and could thus have more time to get a better grade. The book spoke about a child who had grown up from a good child to a murderer simply because he felt he was never paid any attention to when he was young, and wanted others to recognize him in his adult life. With it finished, I sighed and pulled the sheet of paper from the back of the book, before using its cover as a clipboard of sorts that I could write on.



WC: 443

With the pen in my hand and the paper spread across the back of the book, I remember the first question asked 'What connection can you make from the author of this passage? Did you share a similar feeling at all in your life?' After reading the passage fully, and then hearing that question.. it truly does sound like they're trying to see who has something to hide from their childhood! A child with a lonely past would either be shoved into the school's psychiatric ward, or send off to a ward! What's more, people who had an experience which gifted them with an artifact would likely feel withdrawn since it's inevitable they feel self-conscious about it, so this is really a genius plan for the school to locate those who are truly hitorinji, like myself.

Of course, I won't fall for the question's devious plot. Instead of outright admitting to something self-incriminating, I write down the following: "I feel every child had a time in their life when they felt unattended to. Especially those who are like myself, and have had to share the attention of the parents with siblings. As the eldest, I can understand the pain of seeing your parents pay more attention to a newborn. However, I was lucky and had great parents, who still took me out for ice cream every weekend and made me feel truly special, so any feeling of loneliness lasted for but a fleeting moment!"

Nodding my satisfaction to my answer, I know it doesn't sound suspicious at all! They would have no reason to expect anything abnormal of me. But there remained two questions left to expand on, so I would need to answer those quickly, as up ahead, I can see the school looming in view, and if the teachers were to see me doing my homework on the way to school, it would be.. truly disastrous!



WC: 316

My memory flips through the many pages of important information it holds, searching for what the second question was that I needed to answer. It takes a bit of thought, but I remember that the question was one seeking how I felt about what he did. It asked if I thought he was right to murder those people due to the way society had treated him when he was younger..

..Ha! What a stupid trap that was! Who could be so stupid as to answer 'Yes' to that? Well, it asked to explain, but still! I could see myself answering yes, only to have it passed down the school board and into the hands of the government, only to have them tie me up and, once again, throw me into a ward. This evil school sure did try hard to catch people, but I won't fall for this devious trick either. Instead of falling for it, I simply answer thusly: "I don't believe he should have gone so far as to kill people, although I can understand why he would. Weak willed individuals are often able to be pressured into doing wrong things by their own mind alone. They see pain on others as being retribution for what happened to them in the past, and so they work their hardest at trying to inflict that pain on others and bring them down to their level instead of solving their problems in a way that is more productive and doesn't harm anyone."

Once more, I give a very self-satisfied nod to myself at my answer. No one would complain that I was a jerk for calling the person a stupid idiot, even if it was the way I felt, but the teacher wouldn't think I was in the same boat as him, and I could once again avoid being imprsioned in a mental ward.



WC: 311

Finally, I have only one more question to answer, but it was becoming so boring that even my foolish pretending that it was all a trap wasn't enough to completely entertain me anymore. The last question was another one that I could twist into being the school trying to force me into unveiling some dark secret, but that was too much effort at this point. The last question was, 'What question would you ask this man if you could? Why would you ask it?' Even the thought of, 'They're trying to see if we think in a similar fashion!' was too much of a pain to muster, and I had no energy left to pretend like that again, so I just answered the question. "I would ask him why he thought it was okay to do it. I wonder why people feel the need to harm others when they themselves have been harmed, and why they feel that an eye for an eye is an acceptable way of living. It's truly a sad thing, and it makes me pity them, but I cannot accept that way of life at all, so I would like to ask what makes them able to live that way."

And with that, I finished. Ironically I had just passed through the school gates, and I slipped the paper into the book and pushed it into my bag as I did so. The pen was next to go, being put in my pocket for later use when I would need to take notes in school (yeah right!). Giving one last sigh, I walk through the doorway and begin to shuffle through the halls to class, just like the other endless amounts of students would be.



WC: 288