A horde of excited children streams out of the elevator and swarms around the reception desk before I can muster a scathing follow-up. I am not happy, but I can tell Manager is not happy either after Hitomu disrupts the first two hours of the day screaming in the lobby. Several parents ask who he is and what’s wrong with him, and if his mother is really his mother or did his mother step out and leave him with a stranger, and so on and so on. I wish I had answers for them. I’m curious as to what the heck is going on myself, but it’s fine. I can be professional. That’s the Zozo policy: always be professional, polite, and playful. I can do all three, easy.

When noon comes around, I’m waiting with Manager in the lobby, which does not get any quieter. Manager spends about twenty minutes talking to Hitomu’s mother about what my trial will be like as he makes attempts to pry Hitomu from her arms and drag him kicking and screaming into Room Five. He finally gives up and allows Hitomu’s mother to accompany him inside. Had I known this would happen I would have wolfed down my mac and cheese fifteen minutes ago.

“How are you, Cybelle? Ready?”

“Hungry,” I blurt out.

Manager cringes, hissing air through his teeth. “Ah yes, now Lieko and everyone are eating lunch. I am very sorry, Cybelle.”

“Yeah, don’t worry; I got this. It’s for the company, right? Plus, it’s not like I can’t eat once it’s over.”

“Eh? I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I understand.”

“Ah. Yes. Thank you for your understanding. Our school, it is not very good. We need many students, maybe, or it will be troublesome.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Eh?”

“I mean, yes, I understand.”

“Yes, that’s right, you are always understanding. Many foreigners are not. That reminds me, your re-contracting form … you signed it, yes?”

“YAAAAAAH!” Inside Room Five, Hitomu screams in his mother’s arms and scratches at her. It’s almost like he’s answering Manager on my behalf.

“Ah, maybe, now is not the time. But, let’s discuss it again? Because many students, maybe they will not stay if Cybelle leaves. It will be mendokusai — eh, I mean, troublesome. But maybe, for now, we can wait. Please do your best.” Manager bows and bends down to reassure Hitomu and his mother for the thousandth time. He closes the door as he murmurs aside, to me: “After your lesson is Lieko, who is eating now, so you only have to teach for maybe ten minutes. I think, maybe, Hitomu will cry even with mama, but please do your best. Okay, Hitomu! Time to enjoy English with Belle-sensei!”

And that’s that. Manager closes the door, and I am trapped with a grim young woman and her violent child.