The End of Things to Come

Today, Fujita showed me the new yearbook for my graduating seniors.

I've always prided myself on being the sort of person who can let go of anything, but now... well, I find it more than difficult to do so. I simply don't want to.

However, my feelings on the matter are immaterial.

The end is coming for the teachers as well as the students, and I'm not sure if everyone is aware of it at all. The way Japanese schools are, likely half of our teachers will transfer, and the Togi Senior High that I've come to love will be gone, vanished as surely, and as eagerly my third-year's moved on to their adult lives. I gave my students all sorts of lectures on moving on, and the different ways that people deal with graduating and growing up. I am a hypocrit.

The photos in the book are, for lack of a less cliched word, bittersweet. In the class photos, Shota is the only boy who bothers to smile. Meccho, Misa, Yuka and Hayaka join him. On the next page is the Student Council, all of them looking silly with Tetsuya in the middle, staring straight ahead with the serious face of a politician. His hair was shorter then it is now, and realize that I never knew him then. Fujii's face is as square as ever in the Basketball clubs photo, and Kyousuke is looking into the lens like a model with unwitting seduction. The Music Club, a band consisting of three clarinets, a bass clarinet, a tuba, and percussion are holding up their instruments in mock excitement. Fujita looks like he's the only one enjoying himself. On another page, stands Bill in front of a chalkboard holding a book open with his right hand, a piece of chalk in his left, and doing his usually overly enthused smile while trying to do a peace sign.

Today, I asked Okada that when she leaves if we could still be friends. She laughed, but she did not answer.