Have you ever tried to bully or harass? If not you, then who? I think somebody else are getting tortured at work, where his employer pays a salary. But if he is a student, he himself pays for school, where he feels pain. If you kick out him, what is left for him?
Since that time, I had suffered from keloids on my neck for twelve years. I had at times had a recurring nightmare of the look on her crooked face. If these were healed, would this painful memory obliterate from my mind?
Matsu had spoken between the lines and I actively had focused on scanning for meaning. Neither were not open-minded or optimistic. My answer never satisfied her. Even years later, I would never be able to devise the effective means to her own satisfaction; I had happened to hear about her: “It’s a little cruel, the way Matsu do to the students, who are men.”
*
On the last day of my practice, Matsu showed me the paper―“FINAL EVALUATION,” the title read. On a scale of “Excellent,” “Good,” “Passing,” and “Failing,” I scanned the categories: Behavior, Communication, Teamwork, Motivation, Documenting, Understanding, etc. My heart pounding, I shifted my gaze to the check boxes … All items were “Failing.” Maybe only one “Passing,” but it did not matter. There were obviously the occasion like rudeness in the early days, but it was very different now.
My real concern was for “Success” or “Failure.” The bottom of them … “Failure.” I panicked. I never heard that anyone failed in spite of making it to the end of their practice. Because of that I had been devoting my effort to passing it as a slave student, who could bow, apologize, and report every trivial thing I had done. The practice made absolutely no sense. Screw it, everything became meaningless.
I started flashing back through all the time I had been at violations, discrimination or any other type of complaints against me. That was quite unfair. It occurred to me that after apologizing, she had been in a little bit better mood, but had once failed to expel me.
She did not explain why she rejected me; I felt my face going pale. After less than a minute, ignoring me with her determination, she approached Umeno, who sat at the desk within hearing distance where she would submit the paper that needs the boss’s approval. It dawned on me she was going to ruin me. Just the sight of her despicable face and her dead fish eyes, there being the staff enjoying talking with each other, drove me really mad.
I was about to scream and throw a huge tantrum. I could picture me in my mind, jumping out, hitting her face so hard that blood gushed from her gross mouth. If she is he, I could. I would knock him, hit him over and over again until his mouth stooped making any disgusting noise.
Resisting the instinct to ruin her, I was trying to relax and hold myself loosely and I saw Umeno look at the paper, tilting her head thoughtfully; I listened, absorbing as much as I could. Umeno seemed to point out that it needed modifying to all the items. Matsu’s eyes were cloudy and her mouth slack with emptiness. There would have be so much more she wanted to tell her but her face just twitched.
Umeno handed it back to me.“Here you go, it’s up to your teacher to decide whether you success or not.” It was pretty abstract. Matsu was forced to correct several of them―from “Failing” to “Passing.” The comprehensive evaluation did not change. I could feel my fury at her rising once more.
The other students seemed to feel a sense of accomplishments, Whatever his level of them otherwise, I thought I was so much better than them.
Siting on a stool, I did not know how quickly time flew―the staff disappeared, except for the sound of Umeno and Matsu scuttling about. Then I would had wandered in the dimly lit staff room, feeling like I was forgetting something.
I had to be strong and patient, making me think that I was not a loser, who never gave up―I had achieved something challenging; preserving group harmony and saving face for those involved with me then keeping hopeful right to the end.
To show a sign of courtesy, I approached Matsu getting ready to leave. “Thank you very much over two months,” I bowed far deeper than usual. “Otsukaresamadeshita.” “You’re welcome,”she said flatly, as if to have nothing further to say, leaving the room where Umeno was working alone.
Over time I found myself developed an increasingly violent temper. I jumped to my feet, darting downstairs and looking for Matsu, who had as good as ruined me. At this time of night, the lights had been dimmed in the whole floors that was empty. I was standing at a point for a while. I did not know how long I remained there; at the same time it was significant period, I suspected I was likely to crumple my paper in front of her face … I laughed, as though I had gone mad, and with the back of my hand, I wiped my tears from my eyes.
