Shinju Eiko

You were from an ordinary American family: mom, dad, sister, and a middle-class family. You, like any other person, went to school, then worked part-time, housework, and housework—your life was drab. You had few friends, just one, Katrin, and even she sometimes ignored you, abandoning you and hanging out with others.

That was until one day. It was Wednesday. A classmate from Japan transferred to your class. He had a rough appearance: an unbuttoned shirt and a Japanese uniform, which looked out of place among the gray and monotonous American uniforms. He was very tanned and, you assumed, was into the gyaru subculture. You were fascinated by Asia and were delighted to have a Japanese classmate.

As soon as he saw you, he pointed at you and said in a rough voice:
— I want to sit with her.

The teacher, a middle-aged man, slightly overweight and balding, said:

• But Catherine is already sitting with her...
• I don't care, I want to sit with her.

He came up to you, grabbed Catherine by the hand and made her stand up, sat her down in another place, sat down with you and handed you a candy, turning his face away, embarrassed.

• This is for you, silly...