I Can't Call Your Name

"I'm sure you're both wondering why you're here," Kimura-sensei said, her tone measured.

Kaito and Misaki exchanged a quick glance before nodding, curiosity flickering in their eyes.

Without another word, Kimura-sensei picked up a paper from her desk—Misaki's Dream Form—and adjusted her glasses as she scanned it.

"Misaki Okada, this is the best form I've ever received."

Misaki replied in a soft, almost modest tone, "Thank you, Kimura-sensei."

"But something's bothering me," she said, looking at Misaki over the top of her glasses.

"This paper is almost too perfect to be real," she said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Did you write all of this yourself?"

Misaki stiffened slightly but maintained her composure.

"Yes, Kimura-sensei. Why would anyone cheat on their own dream?"

"You're right."

She glanced back at the paper and continued, "You wrote that you want to go to university and become a teacher. I must say, I admire your handwriting and the thoughtful way you chose your words."

She looked up from the paper and smiled warmly at Misaki.

"I'm hopeful for you. I truly believe you'll be a great teacher."

Misaki's face lit up with a proud smile. "Yes," she said, a little embarrassed but pleased.

Meanwhile, Kaito, head down, gathering invisible dust on the floor with his foot, his face a mask of worry.

Stealing a glance upward, he briefly locked eyes with Kimura-sensei.

"Alright," she said, her tone growing colder, "let's move on to the other one."

She picked up Kaito's paper, the empty form with a large hole torn right through the middle.

She raised the paper to her face, then looked through the hole at Kaito on the other side.

With a mix of surprise and anger, she asked, "I'm curious, what kind of dream were you imagining when you made this hole in the middle?"

Misaki turned sharply to Kaito, her glare cutting through the air like a blade. Kaito felt a chill run down his spine; he knew that look all too well.

It was the same piercing stare she reserved for the moments she called him a pervert. She didn't utter a single word, but her eyes said it all: You're unbelievable.

Kimura-sensei adjusted her glasses, holding the torn form up to her face with a puzzled expression.

She squinted, attempting to make sense of the faint words that had survived Kaito's relentless erasing.

"Hmm," she muttered, her voice dripping with exasperation. "Courier, manga, anime..."

She sighed deeply, crumpling the form slightly in her hands. Then, with a sharp snap, she turned to Kaito.

"Reading this is harder than deciphering ancient relics!"

"I tried to check what you wrote last year, but there's nothing! And today, I'm staring at this empty paper with a hole in the middle... Do you have no purpose in life?"

Kimura-sensei's voice carried a strange mix of frustration and a hint of maternal care, like she was scolding a child who she secretly hoped would succeed.

Kaito stood frozen, staring at the floor as her words bounced off him. He didn't argue or defend himself—just took the scolding in silence, his hands clenched at his sides.

Misaki, meanwhile, found herself questioning why she was even in that office. Her thoughts spiraled until Kimura-sensei's voice suddenly broke through.

"Okada-san," she said, her tone shifting into something almost... motherly, "I'm leaving this fool in your hands."

Misaki's eyes widened in disbelief as she whipped her head between Kaito and Kimura-sensei.

"Me... what?" she blurted, her voice an octave higher than usual.

Kimura-sensei smiled at her kindly, "You're, by far, the best student I've seen when it comes to planning and executing your life."

She turned to Kaito, her tone turning sharp again. "On the other hand, this one here is the most hopeless case I've ever faced."

Kimura-sensei turned her attention back to Misaki, her expression sharp as ever.

"I want you to help this lost cause find his purpose in life," she said, her tone making it clear it wasn't a request.

Misaki's jaw tightened as she blinked in disbelief. Kaito, meanwhile, stared at her, his shock quickly giving way to dread as if he were bracing for yet another scolding.

"Excuse me?" Misaki finally asked, her voice laced with tension. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know," Kimura-sensei replied casually, then added, "You could tell him about your own dreams, or maybe ask him about his..."

She stood up and walked over to the corner of the desk, placing a hand on Misaki's shoulder.

"Don't you want to be a teacher?" she asked.

Misaki, still confused by the connection between this question and her suggestion, turned to her with a puzzled look.

"Yes, but—"

"Being a teacher isn't just about giving lessons," Kimura-sensei interrupted, glancing at Kaito.

"Sometimes, it's about illuminating the path for someone who cannot see ahead."

Misaki was taken aback by the weight of Kimura-sensei's words. She could only nod, feeling a strange sense of agreement with her profound statement.

Kaito, however, was struck by how clearly those words seemed to define his own confusion.

He had always felt lost, but hearing Kimura-sensei speak made something stir inside him, as if a piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place.

Despite her tough exterior, Kimura-sensei's words revealed a deeper understanding and care for her students. Kaito found himself looking at her with a newfound sense of respect.

They left the room together, both absorbed in their own confusion, processing what had just happened.

Kaito suddenly muttered, a little embarrassed, "You don't have to babysit me. I mean... I'll come up with a made up goal tomorrow and tell her that you helped a lot. That way, this whole mess will be over."

Misaki gave him a doubtful look, clearly not buying his excuse. Without a word, she picked up the pace and walked off.

For a long moment, Kaito stood there frozen. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had upset her again, somehow managing to make everything worse with his usual bad luck.

The rest of the day passed in a blur as he couldn't stop thinking about it. It dawned on him that, until that moment, he had never considered what his purpose in life might be.

Up until now, Kaito's only dream had been to study in Tokyo for high school and make unforgettable memories of his youth. He had never given much thought to the future beyond that.

What did Kaito want to do after high school? Would he go to university, or would he return home to help his father on the family farm?

These questions nagged at him as he walked back to his apartment that late afternoon.

He started by washing the dishes, but as he did, it suddenly occurred to him that it had been a while since he'd last cleaned the bathroom.

Once he finished, he noticed the laundry basket was overflowing. Without giving it much thought, he opened the washing machine, set the basket beside it, and began tossing in the clothes.

When he finished with his own clothes, he noticed Misaki's at the bottom of the basket. He hesitated since they hadn't discussed this before.

"Should I wash hers too?" he wondered.

"If I only do mine, will she get mad again?" he thought, his mind racing.

His hand hovered over the clothes as he got lost in thought, not noticing Misaki had come.

After removing her shoes, she made her way to the bathroom to wash her hands.

She spotted Kaito kneeling in front of the washing machine, staring blankly at something.

Curious, she asked, "What are you doing?"

As she got closer, she saw his hand in the basket, holding something. She leaned in to look and froze—Kaito was holding her bra, staring at it intently. Her anger flared instantly.

"Now, that's too much!" she shouted, kicking his hand away.

Her furious kick sent his hand flying into the air, and with surprising precision, the bra soared across the room in a perfect arc—only to land squarely on his head.

She snatched her bra with lightning speed, clenching it tightly in her fist before shoving it behind her back. Her eyes blazed with rage, and her voice exploded, shaking him.

"What is wrong with you?!" she yelled, her fury impossible to ignore.

"Get. Out. Now!"

Kaito scrambled to get up in a panic, but the wet floor betrayed him, and he lost his balance.

As he started to fall, he reached out instinctively and grabbed the first thing within reach: Misaki's hand.

In the chaos of the fall, he unintentionally pulled her down with him, and they both ended up kneeling on the floor, a tangle of limbs and awkwardness.

Misaki, fuming with anger and hatred, quickly yanked her hand away.

Without warning, she slapped him hard across the face, the sound of it echoing in the bathroom. Her voice followed, filled with fury.

"You're not just a pervert, you're a walking disaster!"