Three people together make for bitter times

“Good morning, Shibelle! Wow! So pretty! You have date?”

Misaki Wada is the first to greet me when I arrive. Her return to our school means we must be mad desperate. Makes me wonder how much say I have in the hiring process. (My guess is none.)

“Yeah, right!” I laugh. She gives me a confused head tilt. “I mean, no. Why?”

“You have a skirt today,” she points. “You look so fashionable!”

“Oh. Thank you,” I smile. I guess today she’s more open to speaking with me. “I need to look good for my trial lesson today. It must be an important one. I’m already shaking.”

“Eh?” She tilts her head. “‘Shaking?’”

“Yeah, you know. When you’re nervous, you kinda …” I demonstrate with my hands.

“Oh, ho ho, I see! ‘Shaking!’”

She follows me into the staff room, reassuring me that I look great as I put away my things and get organized. “Eh, by the way, Shibelle,” she adds. “Your picture. In the lobby. Halloween. Eh … Tinker Bell?”

“It’s ‘Cybelle.’ And yeah, that’s me.”

“Ehhh! Sugoi! So, this Halloween, your … eh, chotto matte …” She whips out her cellphone and types something on it. “Eh? Cos-tume…?”

“Oh, I wear the same costume every year. It’s just easier that way. If is still fits, why not, right?”

Misaki goes silent. She stares at me hard, tilting her head. “Eh? I do not understand. One more time?”

“Oh. Um. Yes. I will be Tinker Bell.”

“Eh! Sugoi! My costume … I not decide yet.”

“It’s okay, you still have time. Most of the teachers just buy little things from the hundred-yen store —”

“Eh? Time? Wakaran …” She tilts her head again. “Do you mean, ‘one more time?’”

“No, it’s okay.” So much for conversation. The air in the staff room now feels so stuffy it makes my eyes water, like someone’s chopped onions in here. The only new addition I see on the staff room bench are a Yagi-sama standee and the now empty cake box from yesterday. No onions in sight.

The door slides open. “Ah, Lieko-sensei, does Shibelle look nice today?” Misaki sings.

Lieko ignores her. “I sent you text last night,” she says to me. “To ‘dress professionally.’ But today, you wear short sleeves. Did you not see the text?”

I’m still wearing my jacket over my top. How can everyone tell? “I did. I didn’t think it would matter; I always keep my jacket on for trial lessons. And it’s, like, twenty-five degrees outside.”

“But cool biz season ends this month. Soon, you must stop wearing short sleeves.”

Says who? Since when? “Well, I’m comfortable in what I’m wearing now. And to be honest, it’s never been a problem with Manager.”