Chapter 93

That day, I went to the teacher's house as usual. Recently, with the exam approaching, I have been studying mostly at the teacher's house.

My parents seem to think I am studying at the library. And as long as my mock test scores keep improving, they don’t seem to doubt it even if I am not at the library.

So I go to the teacher's house, as usual.

...But that day was a bit different.

There was a car parked in front of the teacher's house. I could see someone inside, but I thought they were probably waiting for someone from the neighborhood or looking at a map in the car, so I passed by without paying much attention.

I opened the gate and walked up to the front door, where I pressed the doorbell. I had become used to pressing it, and it rang with the usual "ding-dong" sound, but the teacher's voice never came.

...Is the teacher out? But I think the teacher is usually home at this time.

As I was wondering, I was suddenly called.

"Hey."

When I turned around, two people were getting out of the car. They opened the gate and walked towards me with a smile.

One was a woman, and the other was a man. The woman was wearing a suit, and the man was dressed a bit more casually. ...Who are they?

"Are you Mr. Ukan's child?"

...When the woman called out to me, I felt nervous.

"Oh, but Mr. Ukan isn't married, is he? So... are you a relative?"

"Is Mr. Ukan at home? I want to see him, but he didn't come out when I pressed the doorbell. I was waiting a bit... Is he pretending to be out?"

They said various things with a slight laugh, and then took a half-step closer. I instinctively took a step back, but behind me was the teacher's front door.

...If the teacher doesn't answer the door, it means the teacher doesn't want to. In other words, these people are someone the teacher doesn't want to see. So I can't let them in.

"...Why do I have to answer? Who are you, anyway?"

I don't really understand, but these people, who seem to want to see the teacher even though the teacher doesn't want to, looked a bit troubled when I asked.

"Well, we are related to his work..."

...What should I do? Should I ask more about who they are? But I think the teacher doesn't want to see them. Then, how do I get rid of them?

I don't want the teacher to have to see people they don't want to see because of me. I don't want to cause trouble. Especially since I'm already borrowing part of the house, I don't want to cause more trouble.

"Hey, hey. It's noisy."

When I was in a bind, the front door creaked open, and the teacher stood in front of me with a face I had never seen before, glaring at the people in front of me.

Then, the teacher looked at me and smiled wryly.

"...Here. You can come in. It's a relay."

"But—"

"Make some tea while you're at it. Any kind of tea is fine. Actually, I don't even remember what kind of tea I have. There might be some mysterious tea in the back of the drawer, so feel free to dig it up."

The teacher said this, lifted the long arm that was holding the door open, and quickly pulled me inside.

I felt very apologetic, but staying outside wouldn't improve the situation, so I decided to follow the teacher's instructions and prepare the tea.

I could hear voices talking behind the closed front door, but I headed to the kitchen of the teacher's house.

"Phew, finally home."

After a while, the teacher finally came inside.

"Sorry, Mr. Ukan."

Even though I knew it wouldn't do any good, I apologized to the teacher, who looked a bit tired.

"If I hadn't come here, you wouldn't have had to deal with those people."

"Maybe. But I don't mind. It would be more boring if you didn't come, and I didn't have to deal with them."

As expected, the teacher said this with a wry smile, showing no concern. ...Yeah. I knew he would say that, which makes me feel even more apologetic.

"...Really. You made me make this face. I want to sprinkle salt on them, but unfortunately, I'm out of salt. If I were to sprinkle something, it would be soy sauce... No, I remember getting some mysterious salt as a souvenir from somewhere like the Himalayas or the Andes. It's a fancy rock salt, something that could be a top-tier weapon in the Fourth World War."

The Fourth World War... meaning, salt that looks like a rock.

"Well, I'll try to find it and shave it off..."

The teacher rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and eventually pulled out a pinkish lump from inside. It did look like a rock. ...It had some translucent parts and some cloudy areas, sparkling like a gem, and it was beautiful.

Then the teacher started to shave the salt with a tool that looked like a file.

The sound of "gari, gari" filled the air. Each time, the salt either turned into fine powder or broke into small chunks, falling onto the plate placed below.

"Phew, this is quite a bit of work. Thanks to them, I have to do unnecessary work. It's fitting to sprinkle salt on them..."

The teacher muttered to no one in particular while diligently moving the file, battling the lump of rock salt.

"...By the way, who were those people earlier?"

I asked while watching the teacher.

From what I could see, they were probably related to the teacher's work... but it seemed the teacher didn't like them.

When I asked, the teacher made a thoughtful face, probably considering how to explain it concisely and in a way that wouldn't cause me trouble.

"Ah... Well, they are related to my work. They are very enthusiastic. I turned down a job that I didn't like, and they came to my house to try to change my mind."

"...They called you 'Mr. Ukan's child.'"

"Yeah, that's probably what they would say. What did you answer?"

"Why do I have to answer?"

I couldn't say "Yes, I'm his child." If I were the teacher's child, how old would the teacher have to be to be married?

"Hahaha! Great! Well done! That must have been effective! If someone looks at you with suspicion, they should realize how presumptuous they are! No wonder they seemed unusually hesitant just now!"

That's right. If I could be of help, that's great.

"Well, those people are indeed very enthusiastic, but unfortunately, they don't use words well."

...Suddenly, the teacher sighed and waved the file in his hand, starting to talk. Probably, he just wanted to vent a bit, so I listened.

"They try hard to convey their feelings, but they don't use words that can move me. They don't seem to think about what words would make me change my mind. I'm so saturated with their feelings that I'm a bit tired of them. To the point where I pretend to be out."

"I see."

I can relate to that. I understand what the teacher is trying to say.

"Conveying feelings and moving someone are not necessarily the same. But few people understand that. ...There are too many people who believe that if they keep expressing their feelings, the other person will change. I want to tell them, 'That's just your ego,' but saying that to such people usually doesn't get through. It's really unreasonable."

"You're right."

I nodded from the bottom of my heart, and the teacher nodded back dramatically.

"...Well, that's the point. No matter how much they try to convey their feelings, I won't do anything unethical, and I won't participate in a fight where I won't be fairly evaluated."

"Unethical"

I was a bit surprised and asked, and the teacher made a bitter face and started to shave the salt again.

"Well, it's like being asked to join a race where the winner is already decided. It's marketing, but it's still unethical. ...I want to be fairly evaluated. I have no obligation to do such unethical things."

I thought, "That's how it is." The feeling of wanting to be evaluated is something I don't really understand.

"More good evaluations are better than bad ones. It feels better. And to be honest, I don't need unnecessary evaluations, but I do want more of the evaluations I want."

...As I listened to the teacher's words, I felt... amazed and envious, and then my thoughts were completely blacked out by the thought, "How can I even think such things?"

"...Togo? What's wrong?"

The teacher noticed I was thinking and asked.

...What I'm thinking has nothing to do with the teacher. But the teacher seems to like hearing my thoughts. He's a bit of an oddball. I know that.

So, I decided to ask.

"Um, I feel like getting first prizes or evaluations is not a good thing, and wanting them is bad."

When I started to speak, the teacher nodded and looked at me with interest, making it easier for me to talk.

"Isn't it wrong to want evaluations?"

The teacher listened to my words and blinked a few times.

"Why do you think that? Can you tell me the reason?"

Then he asked me.

"Well... It feels... dirty? Shallow? I can't explain it well, but it just feels that way."

I'm not good at explaining. I'm not good at speaking, and I'm not good at using words in general. But since the teacher seems to like hearing my thoughts, I tried to put my thoughts into words.

"I see. A rather modest and interesting sensitivity."

The teacher said this while thinking... and then started to draw something in a notebook.

What was drawn was a triangle, divided into five segments. In other words, a five-tier pyramid.

"Alright, Togo. Have you heard of Maslow's hierarchy of needs?"

"...I've heard of it, kind of."

When I answered, the teacher nodded in satisfaction and started to write names on each level of the pyramid.

"Maslow's hierarchy of needs, or the theory of self-actualization, is, in simple terms, the idea that human desires are divided into five levels, and as lower-level needs are met, higher-level needs arise."

The teacher said this while writing "Eat and Sleep" at the bottom level and "Safety" above it.

"The bottom level includes hunger and sleep. The next level up is the need for safety. ...In modern society, this is rarely unmet. Fortunately, we modern humans don't get attacked by mammoths and die, and we can eat meat without dangerous hunting. Rather, it's an era of overeating."

"You're right."

The teacher drew something on the side of the notebook. It was probably a mammoth, but it looked like a hairy bun to me. Ah, a bun with fangs...

"Up to this point, these are needs as a living being rather than a human."

"Right."

I understand. Both survival and safety are just about not dying.

"...Well, we often skip these lower levels. Mainly, we skip the basics of survival, which we should prioritize... "

"Right."

We are humans, so we can skip these basics. It's good to be human. It would be boring if I couldn't draw without eating.

"But no matter how much we struggle, we are humans. We are living beings. So, it's better to build a solid foundation from the bottom up to minimize the fluctuations in our performance. I can't do much when I'm sleep-deprived."

"...Right."

I think so.

We are humans and living beings, so when we are sleep-deprived