Lieko and Manager redirect their attention from the small crowd. Their heads follow me like hungry predators as I claim my high-fives from the kids. As always, I feel like I’m in a promotional video about expat eikaiwa life. An invisible camera watches me, catching the precise moment my mouth goes from neutral to a million watts when my eyes and those of my co-workers meet. Once again, the time has come to play my part as an essential cog in our corporate machine. I’m ready to greet everyone with my rehearsed morning-toothpaste-commercial enthusiasm in three, two, one …

“Ohayou gozaimasu!” I bow. They don’t return the smile, or the bow. Just a quick nod from Manager before he turns back to the parents. Maybe I’m in trouble. Or maybe it’s just another Tuesday morning. Who knows with Manager. Lieko, on the other hand, is still talking to students like she didn’t hear me at all.

Several kids run up to me for high-fives and go right back to fighting each other. One of the youngest retrieves the filthy Anpanman from the floor. She offers it to Lieko. “Sensei, hai — douzo!” she beams.

“Oh, thank you, Akiko-chan,” Lieko sings, showing her pointy white teeth. “But you must say, ‘Here you are!’” She doesn’t make any gesture to take Anpanman from the little girl.

Confused, Akiko shrugs and runs up to me. “Belle-sensei, douzo!”

“Thanks, Akiko!” She’s the sweetest, but I’m not touching this thing, either. It’s probably from the eighties, maybe even older, and I don’t think it’s ever been washed. So instead, I smile and gesture every word. “Can you put Anpanman on the table, please?”

“Hai!” She throws the wretched toy onto the reception desk and runs over to her mother. “Ganbatta, Akiko-chan!” her mother says, giving her a giant hug. “Eigo jouzu desu ne!”

Lieko glares at me as I remove my shoes and trade them for my giant Tinker Bell slippers. Whatever. It’s not my fault the company doesn’t allow us to speak Japanese with the students. Doesn’t mean there aren’t sneaky ways to get around it. Ignoring her, I wade through the children and head for the staff room to stuff my purse into what little space there is in the staff cupboard.

Yoshino sticks another picture of a jack-o’-lantern to the wall before she looks down at me with a big grin. “Ohayou, Cybelle-sensei!”

“Ohayou gozaimasu, Yoshino-sensei. You look busy up there.”

“It’s Halloween!” she says with her light British lilt. “We can finally stop talking about EIKEN exams and celebrate. By the way, I like your shirt! Short sleeves — very brave.”

I look down. “What? I haven’t even taken off my jacket yet.”