“We have a very important meeting with Bucho at eight o’clock tonight,” Lieko says to the monitor. “But we have final lesson with Hitomu, so I must stay here until he is finished with you.”

That didn’t answer my question at all. I study her for a moment. “Lieko, where the heck did you learn to talk to people like that?” I want to add “Bitchy University?” but I’ve said enough to make my point.

She looks up at me, for once. Her face is like stone. “I beg your pardon?”

Down the hall the washroom door opens. I hear a young woman’s voice saying something about behaving so well for Liekosensei. Hitomu and his mother come down the hallway. Odd. I didn’t even hear them come in. They must have shown up during my Senior lesson. And to add to my surprise, the little toddler in the Snoopy onesie is replying with words instead of the high-pitched shrieks I now remember.

“Okay, Hitomu, time for Cybelle’s lesson!” Lieko steps out from the reception desk to greet them in her professional, high-pitched voice. “Please do your best, ne?”

“Ah, Sensei, yoroshiku onegaishimasu,” Hitomu’s mother says with a low bow. She murmurs something to Hitomu, who gives me a wide-eyed look but says nothing.

“Oh! Cybelle-sensei, Hitomu say he missed you!” Lieko kneels down to Hitomu, praising him, grinning her widest without so much as a glance in my direction. His mother bows again and releases his hand to Lieko; they turn down the hall to Room Five as if I’m not even there. I follow, allowing myself a tiny shrug. Fine, whatever. Let’s get this over with. Then I can chill out in the staff room while the others suffer through their long-winded meeting. Someone will probably just send me home.

“Ah, there you are, Cybelle-sensei! Yes! Okay! Let’s enjoy English! Do your best, Hitomu!” Lieko strides out of the room, closing the classroom door firmly behind her. I spy her hovering in the window as I grab my things from the box, and I assume she’s holding the doorknob on the other side just in case Hitomu makes a break for it. But there’s no need today. Hitomu sits like a perfect student on the floor, hands in his lap, eyes downcast. He still looks like he doesn’t get much sleep for a three-year-old … but on the bright side, I can hear myself think.

“Hello, Hitomu, how are you?”

Hitomu’s eyes lift to meet mine, as if he’s noticed I’m there for the first time. “I’m-fine-thank-you-and-you?” he whispers.