Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei Fan Fiction / Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha Fan Fiction ❯ Contracts and Conspiracies ❯ Speaking English for the benefit of international readers ( Chapter 1 )

Exactly on time, the classroom door opened in its usual pomp, announcing the arrival of their teacher. In that instant, Class 2-A came to its attention. Hair was straightened; mobile phone armed; the names of the best lawyers coming to mind. Everyone in her or his way ready for another lesson on the despair-inducing thing known as life and reality.

 

No teacher in old-fashioned hakama stepped into the room to educate the anticipating students on the depressing way of the world.

 

The class waited. This was, after all, not uncommon. Occasionally, their dear Teacher Despair would be so deep in self-despair that he could be attempting yet another overly complicated method of unsuccessful suicide, thus resulting in him having another long lecture by their school psychiatrist. Or perhaps it could be the producers trying to drag for time so as to save on animation cost. Strange since this is a fanfiction rather than an actual episode but still, a possibility.

 

Thus the class waited as a faint buzz of conversation filled the air again.

 

And they waited.

 

And waited.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

“Itoshiki Nozomu.”

 

The grave voice boomed without a tinge of emotion.

 

Itoshiki Nozomu finally opened his eyes to a bright, blinding white. He was still groggy, squinting slightly to see beyond the whiteness. Everything around him was still a blur.

 

“Am I dead? Is this white light heaven? Is that my ancestor calling for me?” he murmured, feeling around unsuccessfully with his hands for his glasses. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was quite relieved that even in the afterlife, he could still enjoy sitting in the comforts of a nice, cushioned armchair. Why, the afterlife is so insistent that he stay to enjoy the comforts of the armchair that he is bound tightly to it. If so, he will make full use of it. He allowed himself to lean back to enjoy the snug comfort of the cushioning.

 

What? The train of thought screeched to a halt as it reviewed itself. His limbs were bound tightly to an armchair... what part of theology was this...

 

“No. It is not heaven,” the grave voice boomed again, “This is my office. I am... uhm... the mayor. The local mayor.”

 

The room was dim; save for the shine of the table lamp, shining coldly, directly in his face without any concern. Then... as his eyesight adjusted to the stinging brightness, Nozomu started to take in the details of the room he was in. There was no decorations of any sorts; just walls of dull, mundane brown. At one end of the room sat the owner of the booming grave voice behind his desk of mahogany brown, just like the empty walls of the empty room.

 

The local mayor's office?! Realization came to him. He is in really deep trouble! It must be that! He had that bad feeling all along!

 

“I swear I am innocent! It was not me who picked up the five yen along the road and spent it as loose change for a new piece of rope two weeks, four hours, twenty-three minutes and twelve seconds ago!”

 

Nozomu answered hysterically, struggling against the bonds that held him in place on his end of the room.

 

“Uhm... no, Teacher Itoshiki,” the grave voice boomed from behind the desk, this time with some uneasiness in the tone, “That is not it-

 

Ignoring the grave booming voiceâ„¢, Nozomu gritted his teeth in fear as waves of desperation washed over him. He is doomed! Doomed! Doomed to a life in prison! Away from what little family and friends he had! No income! No privacy! No dandyish lifestyle! In prison, he would be devoid of his books, his suicidal attempts, his willing audience of students! He would have to share a room with big, burly men! He would have to avoid picking up soaps! He would have to-

 

Something came to him like an enlightenment.

 

“Despair! The world that condemns minor errs in judgment has left me in despair!”

 

“Teacher Itoshiki! Please calm down!” Grave booming voiceâ„¢ shouted over the delirious cries of the teacher in despair, “We... we are not here to discuss your little roadside finds.”

 

“Then why am I here? Why am I bound?”

 

“We have received a complaint tha-

 

“Despair! The culture of complaints have left me in desp-

 

“No, please listen to me fir-

 

“Despair! The general assumption that one should be heard first have left me i-

 

Grave booming voiceâ„¢ had had enough of despair for the day. All he wanted to do was to talk to this Teacher Itoshiki without interruption. He was not a nasty guy who relish in inflicting pain (not usually anyway) but he was not paid enough for the extra dosage of despair he was receiving that day. With an exasperated sigh and a snap of his finger, he signaled for the silencer.

 

Before Nozomu could finish his proclamation of despair, felt tape was placed across his mouth, depriving his freedom of speech from him. The entire procedure lasted only a couple of seconds; so silent that no one heard the sound of tearing tape. Then as silently as the silencer came forward to perform the order, the silencer melted back into the background. In silence.

 

For a moment, grave booming voiceâ„¢ sat back to enjoy the general silence that was only broken by the weak muffled protests of Nozomu. Having enjoyed enough silence, the grave voice boomed again.

 

“Teacher Itoshiki, we have received a complaint- and I have just witnessed first hand -that you have been spreading despair amongst your students. That you are having a negative effect on their view of lives and their future.”

 

No reply. Which was expected anyway.

 

“Your entire class had to repeat their second year! An entire class! It can't be simply because the mangaka is too lazy to update his templates!” Hands were thumped on the desk for emphasis.

 

Still no reply.

 

“Anyway, you are required to hold summer classes for your entire class. We need their grades to be up to standard quickly and then seems like a good time. I know what you are thinking,” the voice became lighter, more cheerful with the accompanying silence, unfortunately losing its status of 'grave booming' which was a rather fun if lame joke for the author to be spaming, “Lo and behold, it will be the summer holidays soon. In fact, your summer classes will began next week.”

 

Nozomu had clearly given up in his struggles against the cruel felt tape and bounds. Slagging his shoulders in despair, he nodded weakly as he plotted his escape from his responsibilities. Perhaps a cruise to nowhere seem like a good idea. The crisscrossing alleys of excuses might work. Or even the escape chalets in the mountains. Then there is always suicide to end it all once and for all.

 

“Forget it,” the voice answered with relish. Perhaps he can get used to all these nasty business after all. There is always something fun about popping the bubbles of hope (or in this case, despair) of other. “ We have confiscated all ropes in your possession and signed a new bill prohibiting the sales of ropes. We have informed your school authorities about the situation and necessary arrangements have been made to prevent any unnecessary happenings such as unfortunate escapes. So...”

 

The voice reached towards a button on his desk and hovered a finger over it.

 

“We shall not hold up your precious time with your dear students. Please work harder for the sake of our town's future. Or else.”

 

He pressed the button with a beep.

 

In that instant, the trapdoor directly below Nozomu opened, allowing him, armchair and all to fall through the hole on the floor. There was not even enough time to scream and even if there was, he could not due to the silencing felt tape.

 

As he looked up to the closing trapdoor, resigned to his fate of death by falling, he could hear the last words of the voice booming from the opening.

 

“And no more of that despair stuff! You are to be positive! Think positive!”

 

Then Teacher (not-to-be-in) Despair hit the ground to the sound of mirthful laughter from above.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

With a swift, tearing sound, Nozomu felt the offending silencing tape rip off his mouth. The dull aches from the many bruises from the fall coursed through his body. Then he could sense the stares of many boring onto him, quite a number of them carrying a threatening aura, some of them even deadly...

 

In cases like this, the despairing man decided it was better to play dead. Who knows where he was now? Perhaps grave booming voiceâ„¢ have dropped him into some strange, out-worldly situation that he was better off not seeing or knowing. He could feel the threatening aura closing in.

 

“Teacher! Teacher Itoshiki!”

 

His eyes snapped open upon hearing the familiar voice and in true instinct of a veteran used to such sticky situations, said his trademark comeback.

 

“What if I had really died?!”

 

“No, you won't,” his ever optimistic student, Fuura Kafuka replied cheerfully, “You only fell from the ceiling. That is not enough to kill you. But in the case that you really died, we would hold a funeral for you here, all of us dressed in black and white. All of us will weep and give moving eulogies to Dear Teacher Despair. Matoi-chan will lie in the coffin with you while the rest of us will blame ourselves for what had happen...”

 

“No, you don't really have to answer that,” Nozomu quickly put a stop to the girl's earnest description of his eventual funeral. It is not something one really wants to hear. Plus he has it all planned out perfectly already. His eventual funeral will be huge and grand, the hall filled with weeps and ...

 

Anyway, it was not time to hap on the depressing matters of the inevitable. Re-adjusting his glasses and looking around at his surroundings, it appeared that he had fallen back into his homeroom. The fall had broken the comfortable armchair which was quite a pity but at least it freed Nozomu from his bonds. Other than Kafuka, the rest of his many students had come to surround him out of curiosity and some detectable concern. Some of them he was more familiar with. Others, due to lack of creative thinking on the mangaka's side, he don't really recognize and since this writer is not interested in creating more OCs, they will be conveniently ignored for this story.

 

As grateful as he was for the large number of potential mourners for his funeral, it was time for classes. Getting back to his feet, Nozomu waved his students back to their seats while he composed the next life lesson in his mind. From the corners of his eyes, he spied the wreckages of the armchair and more importantly, the rope that had bounded him.

 

No point wasting good rope.

 

“Teacher, we heard laughter and a shout about you needing to think positive when you fell from the ceiling. What is it all about?” An absolutely normal voice asked the most normal question that when someone normal faced with such a situation would normally ask.

 

“Don't call me normal!” Hito Nami protested against the narrative.

 

Normally, may I add.

 

“Nami,” Kitsu Chiri's sharp, hard voice rang out, cutting across the growing murmurs of curiosity from the class, “The exact phrasing was ,'And no more of that despair stuff! You are to be positive! Think positive!' What is this all about?” She casted her piercing glare straight towards her homeroom teacher, “Who demands that you abandon your stock character trait and what everyone had come to associate with you?!”

 

Nozomu gave a theatrical sigh. He was not thrilled by the situation. He would have to give up on his plans of going back and acting dandyish during summer just to attend to the class. Worse than that, he had to think positively. Forced to be someone he was not. It was most depressing... It was not exactly positive thinking but-

 

“Perhaps it is the higher ups who have decided to bless the class with hope and grace for failing to be promoted to the next grade,” Kafuka said, “They said that Teacher must attend to our academic needs and give us summer classes.”

 

Everyone turned their attention to their cheerful classmate. She returned their stares with a look of blissful innocence and smiled with genuine intent.

 

“And they wanted Teacher to be more positive,” she completed her revelations to the shocked gasps of the class.

 

Teacher Despair to be positive?! Impossible!

 

“I read the text above,” Kafuka added as she noticed Nozomu's questioning look. It was disturbing to say the least. However, she has hit the nail on the spot. Nozomu would have sank into his chair in defeated despair if not for the fact that he had no teacher's chair. For a moment, he considered giving a general rant about his sad state of life and his desire for an end to all.

 

Then he stopped himself.

 

'Or else,' replayed itself in his mind. The voice was not that grave when it said that. It was almost cheerful. Happy. Sadistic. Whoever grave booming voiceâ„¢ was, he was confident that he can follow up on the threat and make Nozomu's life even more miserable if he attempts to do anything else.

 

Mayor's office, the voice had mentioned. That was unusually high level.

 

Not that Nozomu was in the mood to think about it. His summer of beautiful, philosophical contemplation about death had been shattered with the order. The need to think positive was achieving directly the opposite effect on him.

 

“You mean that these are orders from the higher-ups?” Chiri asked.

 

“Yes,” came the reply.

 

“Then everything is in order. You will have to give us summer classes despite our vehement protests and be positive,” the compulsive order girl said with a satisfied sigh, “Since the higher-ups will have authority to do so.” She then took a deep breath and exclaimed angrily, slamming her hands onto her desk for impact. “Holiday is holiday! School is school! Why must we have summer school during the summer holidays?!”

 

That sealed his fate. Nozomu made a poor attempt at sighing happily as Chiri's 'vehement protests' started to spread across his dysfunctional class.

 

“What about Comiket?!” wailed Fujyoshi Harumi from the back, “I've already prepared my story! I cannot afford to come to school!”

 

“My part time work at the zoo,” Kobushi Abiru stated quietly, unable to raise her hand due to its possibly domestic violence induced injury.

 

“It's my fault! It's my fault! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Kaga Ai wailed in guilt induced panic as she rang out of the room, slamming the door close behind her.

 

“I will SUE you!” Kimura Kaere, the resident foreigner of the class shouted in stereotypical crassness of a foreigner as the winds blew and lifted her skirt. If this had not being a fanfiction, one would have been treated to a delicious view of white panties but since this is, one can only hope to imagine.

 

You've got mail. Nozomu took a glance at his ringing phone- YOU VACUOUS TOFFEE-NOSED MALODOROUS PERVERT! -to see yet another long series of abusive curses from Otonashi Meru, his petite student who only communicates through villainous mobile phone messages.

 

“What?! Summer sch- “ whoever said that was abruptly cut out when the winds blew hair over his bald spot, removing him from his brief moment of noticeability within the story.

 

With a almost silent creak, the door opened just slightly and long, soft and slightly creepy repetitions of 'Sorry' came wafting into the classroom. Ai had returned, peeking guiltily from the ajar door as she repeated her trademark phrase.

 

The protests from the student grew in volume and intensity as minutes passed. There was no way Nozomu could have conducted any lessons at all. He needed the protests around him to stop first if he was to get any word in. “Kudo!” he shouted over the din to the novel-reading student at the corner of the classroom, “Tell us a story!”

 

The bookworm took his eyes off the novel he had in his hands. With a light nod, he closed his eyes briefly as inspiration flowed through his creative brain. It was a magical moment when his eyes opened with a slight sparkle.

 

“The summer that was not to be. Once upon a time....” Kudo Jun announced and began another beautifully-crafted fairy tale about a snowman's doomed search for the elusive, legendary season. After ten minutes, he finally finish the story and left everyone spellbound and teary from the sad, poignant ending that felt so much like an analogy of their current situation.

 

“Cl-Cl-Class!” Nozomu finally said in between his sobs, “I know that we all do not like the idea of attending summer class but we must bear with it...”

 

“Why not hire some contract agents to help us?”

 

Once again, the class turned their attention to Kafuka and her sparkling grin.

 

“That is somewhat Deus Ex Machina, isn't it? It is too easy a solution. That would hardly be proper for a multi-chaptered fanfiction that intends to claim epic status,” Nozomu answered while he took a quick glance to Chiri. There was a momentous perk in her attention when he mentioned 'proper'.

 

“No, it will be a plot device,” Kafuka continued, “All of us already have plans for the holidays. None of us wants to stay. It is as good a plot device as our permanent status as year twos or introducing new characters by crashing a car through a window.”

 

Everyone looked towards the window immediately, half expecting a twelve years old girl in laboratory uniform from America to come crashing through it at that very moment.

 

Nothing.

 

After the moment of silence, Nozomu clapped his hands to get the attention of everyone. “Class. Maybe that scene is for the next chapter. I shall think about it later,” He reached to the drawers of his desk for the notes of the day while taking a cursory glance to acknowledge Matoi's presence underneath his desk.

 

A single pamphlet was placed neatly in the drawer.

 

He did not recall it there before.

 

After scanning the large, brightly printed words on the piece of paper, Nozomu slammed the drawer shut. Too much a coincidence. Not right. His paranoia sense is tingling.

 

“So what is the lesson for a day?” A voice rang out.

 

Putting the sense of uneasiness behind him, Teacher Despair took a deep breath and started to speak. He can consider the implications later. Summer school which no one wants despite the authorities' orders, only starts next week after all.

 

The perpetual buzz returned to the classroom as the usual antics resumed.

 

And from the room just above the classroom, grave booming voiceâ„¢ along with other figures watched Nozomu's action closely with anticipation of the unfolding plan.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“Sameshima! How do I look?”

 

“Perfect as usual, my dear lady,” the butler answered politely in his deep, stoic voice, nodding his head in agreement. A pile of discarded clothings laid at his side; each one of them worthy of a fancy dress party and each one of them only worn once so far. That one time had been just previously when she was trying them on one by one.

 

The young girl twirled around, admiring her reflection on the mirror. The long ends of her white Chinese-inspired dress followed her movement gracefully. It went well with the green scarf and short cape.

 

“I like it. Tell the designer that made this set that I'll take one hundred of it,” Arisa Bannings placed her hands to her hips in a smug pose and grinned at her own reflection. It is perfect, much better than that pink frilly one that includes that sickly cute cap and wings at the back. Clenching her fist, she did another victory pose to admire herself. Behind her, Sameshima bowed sagely before he left the room.

 

The reflection of the person leaning on the chair at the corner of her room caught her eyes. The blond-haired boy had been looking at her with reluctant interest of a man in a lady's wear section of a departmental store. When he realized that he had been noticed, he quickly turned away, resuming his look of boredom and sulkiness.

 

Arisa smirked to herself, just a little. Then she strutted towards the boy and leaned forward, leveling her face to his.

 

“What do you think?” she said in what she felt was a deep, mature voice, “Do you like it?” She thrust her hips teasingly at the boy. He was trying to avert his eyes away in such a awkward manner.

 

“Stop it. You are only thirteen.”

 

“But so are you,” Arisa replied.

 

“Why are we doing this again? I could have been out there, doing better things,” Gabriel Testarossa whined unhappily. He slumped deeper into the chair. And, Arisa could not help noticing, he was changing the subject.

 

“Because I'm tired of trekking around the world,” she answered with a frustrated sigh. It was not the first thing they were arguing about it. He had raised the question so many times since she suggested the idea, “Because I want to do something different this summer. Because I want to actually use these new.. new skills!”

 

Gabriel simply gave an equally frustrated sigh as a retort.

 

Four years already. At least, approaching four years since they first met and became 'siblings' during those tragic events in London. Although he seemed fine, somehow Arisa knew that Gabriel never recovered or forgave himself for what had happened.

 

Ever since she had taken him up as a younger brother, a fact that Gabriel disputes all the time, they had traveled every summer. Under the directions of the Librarian, they found Master Eldric and learnt from him. They visited magic schools around the world; Gabriel trying to learn as much about magic as he could while he spread the use of alchemy. It was an atonement for him of sorts, to erase his guilt for the events four years ago.

 

And she, Arisa tagging along and picking up some simple magic along the way.

 

The contract agency was her idea. She was tired of traveling. That leeches-filled jungles they had entered the previous excursion was the final straw. A young girl, even one who knows a little magic, can only take so much wet socks and leeches.

 

She never forgot witnessing those magical fights that Nanoha, Fate, Hayate and to a certain extent, Gabriel himself engaged in. The twists and turns, she replayed them in her mind again and again. She knew they were dangerous; she was caught in the crossfire before; she saw magic kill before. But her friends, the magic wielders were so graceful.

 

So powerful.

 

So beautiful.

 

She wanted to be part of the world. She wanted to be able to fight alongside her friends rather than be the damsel-in-distress she had always been so far. To break that invisible barrier between them. This was her chance. A small first step of becoming part of their world.

 

She knew enough techniques to fight back. It will be chance for her to practice and hone her budding skills so that one day, she will be able to join her friends in their world, side by side.

 

It will also be a chance for Gabriel to do something different. Something to take his mind off the past.

 

Together, they will be the 'Bannings Agency', dedicated to aiding those people in need of specialized help (and perhaps a little magic) in exchange for some fees.

 

“Stop whining and just obey your elder sister!” Arisa said in her most commanding voice. Gabriel turned away and gave a snort of defiance. After all those years, although he had accepted her presence in his life, he had yet to fully accept his new family; let alone the authority of his self-proclaimed 'sister'.

 

Arisa's eyes narrowed in annoyance. It is time for the trump card.

 

“TSAB sponsored quite a bit of our travels,” she said silkily as her voice dropped a couple of notches down the coldness and villainous scale, “But guess who is the one paying for the recent air flights and travel expenses?”

 

Arisa whistled innocently as she watched Gabriel's shoulders sagged in defeat. He was lucky that her family was rich enough to fund her journeys with Gabriel. No reply was required.

 

“That settles it,” the girl declared victoriously as she adjusted her thigh-high stockings for comfort. That should end their debate for the next few days. “The official opening of Bannings Agency will be announced in a couple of days. According to Nanoha, the TSAB already has some work for us.”

 

Gabriel showed no reaction despite Arisa's knowledge of his dislike towards the organization.

 

“It will be exciting!” Arisa tried to liven up the mood, “You will enjoy it!” The boy's sulkiness was starting to affect her too; making her nervous of her prospects on the field. What if her little knowledge of magic was not good enough? She was counting on Gabriel to provide the necessary support that she will surely need. Unlike her magically-talented friends, she was not naturally a magical girl...

 

The ringing telephone from the corridor interrupted her train of thought. They could hear Sameshima's footsteps as he trod across the hallway and pick up the phone.

 

“Bannings residence,” the butler spoke, “how may I help you?”

 

“Bannings Agency?” Sameshima repeated the request the caller had made.

 

That caught both the children's attention. Even Gabriel perked up for a moment in boyish excitement before he quickly resumed his act of unenthusiastic annoyance.

 

Arisa strained her ears as she tried to catch what her old butler was speaking. Sameshima was to be their manager for the new contract agency. She could just imagine the butler's circle-framed glasses gleaming in reflection while he took notes from the caller; negotiating for a better deal and such.

 

A moment later, the handset was returned to the cradle. There was a moment of quiet contemplation before Sameshima moved again, entering the room to the anticipation of the children.

 

“What is it about?!” Arisa blurted out in excitement. Even Gabriel was doing a very bad job of feigning unconcern. Their first official 'mission' already! And they had not even officially start up their agency!

 

Sameshima frowned as he looked at the note he had taken. He could sense that something was amiss. Then he started reading.

 

“The call was from Suzuki Shoten High School. Apparently, a Mr. Itoshiki wanted to hire you for some help.”

 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

When another successful round of life lessons was finally over, Nozomu hurriedly retreated to the teacher's lounge. In his hand, he held the crumpled pamphlet tightly. Behind him, the trail of stalkers followed quietly and as sneakily as they could, hiding behind pillars and masking themselves in the shadows. Nozomu took no notice of them; he was used to the constant line of people behind him already.

 

“Is there anything wrong?” Matoi, his stalker number one whispered into his ears with concern, “You are not yourself today. You are usually more... talkative and observant.”

 

“Nothing,” the teacher mumbled back in reply as the sense of uneasiness returned to him. Entering the lounge and greeting the resident hikkikomori, Kiri Komori, Nozomu sat himself down on the sofa to read the pamphlet. From all around him, his stalkers settled down and watched their target from their respective hiding places.

 

“Banning Agency: When you need a little magic!” The words on the piece of glossy paper proclaimed, accompanied by the pictures of the two young agents with photoshop-rendered special effects. A girl and a boy in poses that suggest they had watched too much Masked Rider shows. Barely in their teens, maybe not even teens yet.

 

The age did not bother Nozomu. He had heard of younger high achievers. Just two years ago, two children were nominated in the prestigious Annual Teacher's Convention for the Rising Talent Award at Fuuka Academy. If children younger than his students could be genius teachers, Nozomu could not see the logic of not having children being contract agents. It was all just the trend of age confusion everywhere now. Or as he said, everyone was forgetting their age. The young were attending higher education while the mature were watching magical girl cartoons.

 

Resisting the temptation to proclaim his despair at the trend, he continued to consider the implications. What had triggered off his paranoia was the sheer coincidence of it all. Coincidence and luck happens all the time. Everyone relied heavily on luck to a certain extent; from revision of their examinations to the invention of silly but popular toys. The ability of luck to beat sheer effort was enough to make one despair...

 

Enough with the despair already. His summer holidays to be spent in the most depressing of activities was under threat. His class had more or less threaten revolt. Worst of all, he was forbidden to be in despair.

 

How could he be not in despair? He was in despair over the fact that he could not be in despair. Then he grew in despair over the fact that he was in despair over the fact that he could not be in despair. That only made him wallow deeper into despair.

 

And that was not good considering that he was warned most severely against being in despair. Nozomu suspected in the midst of his despair that his reactive acts of despair would earn him a lot of troubles that were so to come; even possibly a dreaded wag of the finger. It was a most depressing thought.

 

Kafuka suggested that he hire contract agents to deal with the problem.

 

There was a piece of paper in his desk that did not belong there then that by so coincidentally was a pamphlet that promoted this 'Banning Agency'.

 

It even included the contact number and a discount coupon.

 

It could not look more suspicious. It was all a setup, a plot device as Kafuka would put it. Someone out there wanted to get him paranoid, as if he was not already so. Everything was just an elaborate plot by some villainous writer intended on manipulating plot devices to his advantage.

 

The obvious thing to do was to call up the agency.

 

After all, if their aim was to bring him into compliance through self-immobilizing paranoid, the method of fighting back was to do what they would not expect him to do. That is, to do exactly what they would have expected him to do.

 

The higher ups expected Nozomu to be so paranoid that he did nothing instead of doing the logical thing of calling for help from unverified contract agencies ran by minors. So he would go against prediction by doing the logical thing! So there!

 

Someone handed a telephone over to Nozomu when he finally finished his long, exhausting and despair-filled monologue. He pressed the numbers according to that written on the paper and was answered by a deep, stoic voice. It sounded surprised for a while before getting to business.

 

It was 'Banning Agency' as the pamphlet had promised. Arisa and Gabriel (the two contract agents) would be informed and they would arrive as soon as possible.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“And so we go to Suzuki Shoten High School and meet this Mr. Itoshiki?” Gabriel questioned Sameshima suspiciously. The butler nodded in reply.

 

With a shout of “We accept it!”, Arisa was already packing her personal belongings into her luggage. Their first contract! Think about it! No, why bother to think!? She could not wait to start.

 

That left the questioning bit to Gabriel to handle. The boy was not convinced. It came too quickly for his liking. Something must be wrong.

 

“Did Mr. Itoshiki mention anything about the job?”

 

“Very little, young master,” Sameshima replied. His mustache twitched as the butler frowned. He too had his suspicions. “He simply said that he had a job for the Agency and requested that we go to Suzuki Shoten to meet him. He sounded very urgent. I told him that we will consider it.”

 

“That did not sound convincing,” Gabriel folded his arms while he rocked the chair in thought. There was not enough information. Why would a normal high school request for the aid of a magical agency? As far as he knew, magic, real magic was only supposed to be known by people in high position outside of the magical community. Your average man from a high school would not know about it.

 

“Who cares! I know about it!” Arisa argued as she threw another set of clothings into the already bulging luggage, “We will not keep the man in need waiting! We shall meet him tomorrow!”

 

Sameshima and Gabriel took a glance to each other. Arisa was burning with passion and enthusiasm now. There would be no denying her what she wanted.

 

With a sigh, Gabriel got off the chair to exit the room.

 

“Where are you going?!” Arisa shouted fiercely behind him.

 

He turned back to see his self-proclaimed elder sibling waving her custom made katana at him. Beneath her act of anger and command, he could sense her disappointment that he did not share her excitement.

 

“Back to my room. I need to pack my stuffs too,” he answered, trying to keep his own penned up interest in control. “If I must go, I will need some things too.”

 

Then going through his required inventory at the back of his mind, Gabriel left the room, sure that behind him, Arisa should be smiling.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

The deep, stoic voice at the other end of the call ended the call with assurance to Nozomu that the agents would be arriving soon. Then with a 'click', there was only the dead tone at the end.

 

Nozomu returned the receiver to the telephone. Someone took the telephone away. A job well done. With hope, he should be able to be in as much despair as he liked.

 

Someone?

 

Clap, clap, clap.

 

The solo act of clapping multiplied itself into a torrent.

 

Nozomu finally noticed that his entire class of 2-A was around him. They stood before his sofa, each one of them congratulating him, praising him, clapping happily with carefree, cheerful smiles on their face.

 

Sheepishly, the bespectacled teacher stood up and laughed himself, bowing to his appreciative crowd. It was quite a surreal scene, fit for a temporary ending until it got superseded by a proper movie ending.

 

“Okay, stop,” Nozomu said.

 

The clapping stopped.

 

“So will we be getting external help to free us from the summer burden?” Abiru asked softly.

 

“Yes,” Nozomu answered to the cheers of the class.

 

He looked towards the window. Other than the disturbing figure of one of the many stalkers hiding behind the curtains, the fiery sun was shining brightly and the cotton white clouds were fluffy. It was a perfect day to herald the upcoming summer holidays.

 

It was not time to be mugging in despair in school. If there was to be any despair to be felt, they would feel it outside. No one! No one shall be in control of their actions!

 

And all the while, in the room next door with the shades pulled over the window and the lights switched off, dark figures silhouetted by cliché shadows crouched around a small transmitting device. Nozomu's voice was played over again and again. Then the one that looked like the leader, or at least the one that looked more deviously evil in the dark pressed another button. Sameshima's voice, saying that they will consider, was played.

 

They grinned to each other. The most deviously evil of them had a grin that glinted despite the lack of light. Then they all put on their featureless masks of pure white with streaks of red, like tears of blood. There was only long, narrow slits of rectangles for eyes and mouths on the mask.

 

“The job-” someone among all of them said in a deep, stoic voice before coughing slightly and reverting back to his not so deep, not as stoic, 'quite sissy really' voice, “is done for now. Let us now wait and see...”

 

Murmurs of agreement.

 

“Let us go to the beach now, shall we?”

 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“Teacher Itoshiki,” Chiri asked seriously, “Why are we speaking and thinking in English?”

 

The class went silent for a moment as the obvious sets in.

 

“What?”

 

“Ever since the start of the story, all of us have been communicating in English rather than our native Japanese! If we are in Japan, why is everything in English?”

 

“That's because we need to cater to the mass readers who do not understand Japanese!” Nozomu declared with pomp, glad that the topic had somehow shifted away from dangerous issues,“Because the writer did not feel like writing in Japanese! Because he thinks that no one can read it! Thus we need to be speaking in English!”

 

“In order to cater to the needs of the masses, things around the world have been simplified, made common!” Nozomu continued. He was in a roll now, “Language, culture, religion! Nothing matters as for the benefit of the masses, everything has to be made common! And we are not the only one! These are all examples of things made common!”

 

Afro Samurai

Californian Sushi Roll

Non-spicy curry

Lollipop sucking Sanji

Hikaru Utada singing English songs well

Post-modernist abstract art

Democracy

 

“Despair!” Nozomu exclaimed, “The dumbing down of all thi-

 

He stopped himself quickly. Grave booming voiceâ„¢'s 'Or else.' rang into his mind again. It was best that he do not tempt fate and go against those who orders him around.

 

“We are not simplifying all things,” Kafuka said positively, “This is globalisation! We are speaking English not because the writer is too dumb to write in Japanese but because we are doing so for the benefit of international readers! So that as the international readers get used to this, they will go for the original source material!”

 

“What again?” Nozomu asked after a brief pause.

 

“If the international community likes Californian sushi roll, they will try real, raw sushi in the future with proper manners such as the proper way of dipping it in soy sauce! If the international community likes non-spicy curry, they will give real, spicy curry a try! We are speaking English so that if international community likes this story, they might give the original 'Goodbye Teacher Despair' a try! Going international will widen the item's popularity!”

 

Nozomu had to admit that for once, Kafuka seemed to have a point.

 

“Japanese is Japanese! English is English!” Chiri said exasperated, “We must stick to the original materials! All these adaptations are annoying me! I must make the necessary changes and first of all, ç§ãŸã¡ã¯æ—¥æ&# 339;¬èªžã‚’言ã&# 8222;ã¾ã™ï¼”

 

“大変!å¾…& #227;£ã¦ãƒ¼” Nozomu tried to stop Chiri from making the changes too late. Even he is speaking in Japanese now. The international community will be neglected! Popularity will drop! Reviews will fall! It will not be long before åƒé‡Œã¯ã“ã®ã& #8218;¹ãƒˆãƒ¼ãƒªã
71;変更ã™ã‚‹& #227;€‚。。

 

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