Chapter Text
It was a quiet apartment deep within an alley of the K-corp nest. It had but a single impossible to fully open window from where you could see the exposed brick wall of the next apartment over. It had a single bedroom, a washroom, a toilet and a communal space that was somewhere between living room and kitchen. On the ceiling, covered by many layers or white paint was a stain that marked the presence of an infiltration from the room above, and though it would one day become a problem, it was their only option at the time.
On the first day the apartment had been completely empty, but it gradually started to bear resemblance to a home. There was a washing machine that was maybe a bit too small, a portable induction disk and a microwave for cooking, both resting on top of a mini fridge. The cupboards were filled with plates and cups, half plain white and half tastefully decorated with cartoon faces of the Cinq musketeers and other morning cartoon characters that had been peeling off from all the washes.
In the corner was a small grey box. A TV with a model so old that it no longer appeared on most store's catalogues. It was a steal, practically free as the owner found it shameful to have such a piece of junk still taking space inside his store.
Inside the bedroom lay the most expensive piece of the house. A double bed with a comfortable mattress that had eaten away most of the budget. It was by far the most crowded room in the home, housing clothes for both future inhabitants as well as baskets of toys and shelves of storybooks.
From beyond the door, a set of keys jingled together with the laughter of a little girl.
“N.P.” Ryōshū spoke, looking through the gaps in the fingers through which Araya had been secretly looking.
“I am not!” She lied, closing her eyes behind her hands.
Ryōshū smiled and ruffled her hair before turning the key in the lock and letting the girl walk in first.
She was speechless, stretching her arms and spinning around, enjoying all the space in their new home and imagining all the ways she'd be able to play.
“T.V! We have a T.V? That's C.A.F.!”
“Language.”
“I said frick!” Araya shouted, running into the bedroom and letting out a squeal of joy before launching herself into the bouncy mattress.
“N.L.M.J.O.T.B.”
“It's just one! One little jump! One minute! Pleeeeeeease?”
She sighed and held the girl's hands, so tiny that they were no bigger than Ryōshū's palm. Araya laughed uncontrollably as her mommy helped her jump higher and higher, so tall that she could almost reach the ceiling. Her hair tickled her face and she theatrically spat out the hairs that had flown into her open mouth. Then she jumped again. Higher!
“Mommy, look what I can do! I'm gonna touch the sky.”
“Oh? I think the sky is running away from you.”
“Whaaat? The sky can't run! It doesn't have legs! Liar!”
Ryōshū caught her mid jump and held her in a tight embrace. “Y.L.I?”
“Yes! I.S.L.I. All my new friends are going to be so jealous when I tell them we have a TV at home.”
Ryōshū sat her down on the mattress, her smile fading away. Araya knew that expression well. Mommy was about to give her a serious talk.
“Araya. This is not your O.S. Do you remember what mommy told you about the house?”
“Yes. It costs a lot of money.”
“Y. And about the things inside.”
“They cost less because the home costs more.”
“And what do nest people like?”
“Things that cost a lot of money…” no more was needed for the girl to put two and two together, she was a smart child. “Mommy, do you think they'll make fun of us?”
“Yes. There will be mean classmates. Many of them. What will you do when they say mean things?”
“Ignore them and don't cry. Tell mommy when I get home.”
“Good. And if one of them hits you?‘
“I hit back.”
“If there's more than one?”
“I go to the teacher.”
“And if the teacher doesn't keep them away?”
“Tell mommy and you'll take care of it.”
The smile returned to Ryōshū's face and she helped Araya off the bed. “G.G. Pack your backpack for tomorrow and then you can go play. Mommy will P.E.M.”
As soon as the apron was tied, Ryōshū's started to drift as her body mindlessly did all the cutting needed for the meal. Behind her, Araya's voice rang out like a little bell as she explored the best corner to set up her dolls and figures. It still seemed surreal how lucky they had been.
Ryōshū knew that she didn't want Araya in the backstreets forever, but no matter how many jobs she took as an independent fixer, none would ever bring them close to the amount needed to stay in the nest.
Day after day she would fill out paperwork, applying her baby for scholarship after scholarship, receiving letter after letter of denial. “Unfortunately Araya does not fit our criteria.” “Good luck next time.” She remembered a particularly bad experience when Araya was rejected just because of a little bit of ash that had stained the paper. “The machine could not read it, thus her request was not filled in the system. We're sorry. Applications will reopen next year.” The woman at the customer service desk had told her with her best customer service smile. Five years prior Ryōshū would've gutted her.
They were grueling months with many sleepless nights. She couldn't even imagine how many boxes of cigarettes she would have gone through had Araya not fallen asleep on her lap almost every day.
And then a miracle happened. One school contacted them back. Araya had been accepted into one of the backstreets integration student programs.
Ryōshū remembered reading the letter over and over again, relearning the word “congratulations” as Araya jumped, ran and pulled on her sleeve, begging mommy to tell her what was written on the paper already.
The rest of the day was a blur of sweet watermelon and candy. They rented a movie and watched it late into the night on the derelict projector.
“D.I.R.”
—————————————
Ryōshū woke up by herself before the alarm could. Another nightmare. She was hoping they would stay in the backstreets when they left but it wasn't as easy as leaving a bag of trash on the other side of the border.
Beside her, Araya slept soundly in her light blue pyjama, a hand holding her mother's and a leg thrown over her body. Her hair still smelled of apple shampoo. Ryōshū shook her lightly, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
“F.M.P.” she lazily blurted out.
Ryōshū acquiesced. Truth be told she had woken her up early, just to give her the satisfaction of getting five more minutes of sleep. It was one of the first tricks she learned when Araya started school. Waking up early was always her least favourite part.
Finally the Alarm rang and Araya bolted up, reminded that it was the first day in the new school. She couldn't be late! She had to pick the prettiest accessories to go with her uniform otherwise all the other kids would think she was no fun!
“Mommy! Mommy! Wake up! I can't go to school late! G.U! G.U! I want my bento on the blue box! And put in lots and lots of berries, ok?”
Ryōshū didn't even have time to agree before Araya was already out of the room to get herself ready.
—————————————
They walked to school together hand in hand. Araya had gone silent on the last stretch of the way, carefully observing the streets, committing the path to memory.
“I like this street the most! It's my favourite street now.” She randomly blurted out, staring at the floor jumping over gaps and cracks on the sidewalk.
“Oh? Why?”
“It's very clean.”
“It is.”
“Do you have a favourite street, mommy?”
“Not yet.”
As they walked, the school peeked from behind the other buildings, casting a cool and pleasant shadow over the entrance. From the cars parked in front of it, children bearing the same uniform as Araya would get out and run away from the parents to meet groups of long time friends that were surely missed during vacations.
Araya tightened her grip on her mother's hands. There were way more people than her previous school had and the building seemed so large that it would topple over and crush her. She wanted to explore every single room and corridor but didn't want to risk getting lost on the first day.
Concerned, she turned to Ryōshū and held up her arms. “Araya is T.B.A.L. so STYSIS. You M.M.P. I.L.Y.” She heard, feeling her feet leave the ground as Ryōshū picked her up for a final hug before the big day.
“I.L.Y.T.!”
Ryōshū watched her run towards the building. A few seconds of running and she would stop to look back and wave. Another bit of running and she would stop and wave again. Then again. And again. Finally, standing under the gateway she threw many kisses across the courtyard before disappearing into the crowd of other children. Ryōshū lit up a cigarette knowing she'd be thinking of her baby all throughout the workday.
—————————————
Araya sat at the very front of the classroom. She wanted to make sure she would never miss anything important! She would pay so much attention and be the best student ever! She thought so hard about paying attention that she had missed the first half of the teacher's introduction.
Last time she was in class, this part was her favorite. Students would get up one by one and introduce themselves along with their favourite subjects and hobbies. It was the best way to spot which ones Araya could befriend.
A pile of papers was passed around the class and the students were instructed to take one each. A schedule of all the classes and breaks. Math, Natural Sciences, History, City Languages, Social Studies, Technological Sciences, and Physical Education. Araya couldn't help but notice the absence of the classes she loved the most, art and music. Even P.E. was no more than an hour a week.
Looking up, the teacher was writing something on the expensive looking digital board. Class one: Chapter 1. All students open to page 6. They were already starting. Would there be no introduction? No attendance taking? Araya had already planned everything she was going to say.
Nevertheless she hurried to pick up her books and notebook along with her favourite pen. She was already behind and soon the teacher would wipe the board.
—————————————
With all the students quiet in their classroom, the corridors of the school were eerily quiet. The technological sciences teacher walked down the hallway of first grade classrooms and stared through the blinds to watch her assigned class, looking for the one special student.
There she was, front row seat, two blue bows decorating her hair, and a determined frown despite clearly struggling to follow along with note-taking. Araya. The girl from the backstreets integration program. The student Faust had carefully searched for among the endless piles of candidates. In her personal notebook she marked the girl's condition as stable and then moved on to the teacher's room. She needed to book an office to schedule a meeting with Ryōshū for later.
—————————————
Araya only let go of the pen when the second bell rang. She was so tired and her hand hurt so much! She had never ever EVER written so much stuff in a single day, let alone in an hour. Her notes were messy and confusing and she wasn't able to decorate them with doodles and different colored ink. The girl beside her had a digital notebook with all the stuff neatly organized. Araya was a tiny bit jealous. Mommy was right. Nest people really love things that cost money. But at least the girl was the exception and a ton of other students also had paper notebooks.
That feeling quickly dissipated when she realized it was time to finally meet the other students! She scanned around the room, looking for any friendly face but no student reciprocated her smile.
Among the class she could tell some of the students already had well established groups, long time friends, maybe even neighbors or both, she assumed.
And from the few students that were alone, she could tell that none of them were interested in being friends. They looked sad and lonely, already taking out the stuff for the next class.
Before she knew it, the first break was over and she didn't have time to make a single friend.
—————————————
Ryōshū promised Araya that she would pick her up early on the first day but ended up still arriving one hour after scheduled. Even with a work visa it was a pain to go from the backstreets to the nest and she needed to stop by her house to change out of her work tracksuit. She would ruin Araya's social life if she came to pick her up in bloody clothes.
When she reached the gate Araya wasn't there waiting for her. Instead a woman with white hair approached her with a hand outstretched.
“Miss Ryōshū, Faust is Araya's teacher. It's a pleasure to meet you in person. Do you have some spare time to talk?”
“Did one of those S.B. mess with—”
“No, that wasn't the case. However Faust needs to speak with you with some urgency. Araya is waiting at Faust's office. Please follow. ”
Ryōshū clicked her tongue. It was written on the woman's face that something did happen to her daughter, regardless of whether or not her classmates were involved.
From the office, a cold white light shone from beneath the door. As soon as it opened, Araya came running to her mother, clutching her legs with a trembling grip. She had been crying. Faust could see the veins bulging beneath her skin as looked up to meet her gaze.
“Miss Ryōshū. Faust suggests that you calm down and move into Faust's office to talk. Araya can wait for us here. Do not lose your composure, Miss Ryōshū. Not here.”
Ryōshū knew she was right. She couldn't lose her head in a school, let alone a school of the nest. Araya needed this opportunity. She knelt down and hugged her tightly, cleaning the tears from the corners of her eyes and laying a kiss on her forehead. “Y.D.N.W. Mommy will solve this. Wait here.”
Ryōshū moved to follow Faust into the office where she could already see a bunch of papers lying on the desk, waiting for her. But before Faust could hand them over, Ryōshū had already picked them up and started flipping through the pages.
“You don't want her to hear. Why?”
“Faust is concerned that Araya knowing this would bring her more trouble. She should not hear this, therefore Faust has chosen to host this meeting in this office. It's equipped with sound wave absorbing walls that won't let the conversation be heard from the outside. Miss Ryōshū, please have a seat.”
“I'm fine. H.U.A.S.I.O”
“Miss Ryōshū, as you may already suspect the backstreets integration program is not just a random act of charity.”
“Tss. Figures. N.S.”
“Schools in the nest breed a very particular form of competitiveness. Every student is pushed to their limit and every parent wishes to see their child on top of the class. But it is inevitable that a child will also be last even if by a single point. The fact of the matter is that a child placing last will reflect poorly on the entire family and it might even put them at a disadvantage when applying for further education.“
“So give the last place to some U.C. from the Backstreets.” Ryōshū clutched her fist, feeling her nails digging into her palm.
“Yes, that is the correct read on the situation. It is a fact that none of the teachers expect Araya to succeed and as you can see from those assignments, the plan was already put into motion.”
Ryōshū took another look at the pages. What were simple math problems, history quizzes, and textual interpretation questionnaires to her would've probably looked like a nightmare to a first grader, let alone one on their first day. Ryōshū couldn't even read the answers her daughter had written from all the corrections the teachers had made. Just endless scratches of red pen.
“Bullshit! They haven't even taught this properly! How was she supposed to get it right? ”
“She wasn't. Unfortunately for Araya, most classmates of hers have been homeschooled or had private tutoring during vacation. Though it is not mandatory, it is expected.”
Ryōshū slammed her fist on the desk, leaving an indent on the cheap wooden veneer. She threw the papers back at Faust, not able to look at the woman without feeling the rage boiling inside her. After so many restless days struggling to keep her daughter alive and safe, some bunch of spoiled parents thought they were in their right to sacrifice her. Her baby was not anyone's meat shield.
“Miss Ryōshū. Remember that you are not without allies. You may have already deduced that what Faust is telling you isn't supposed to be public knowledge. This information is being shared in the spirit of cooperation. Indeed, it was Faust herself that accepted your application over many others as Faust believes in Araya's potential."
“Why…?”
“Simple. Because Faust sees in her a child that faces fear.”
“P.B.”
“Far from it. Faust is willing to bet on that. Faust has never been wrong.”
A child that faces the fear. Those words kept ringing in Ryōshū's skull like an incessant echo. She needed a cigarette badly and the way home was still long. A child that faces the fear. What bullshit. A child having to face fear is nothing but a signifier that the parents have failed in their duty. Araya had already faced enough fear for an entire life, and not even in the nest she could be at peace.
“Mommy.” She spoke slowly and quietly, “I'm sorry. I really didn't know we had to do homework during vacation.”
Ryōshū stopped walking and squatted down next to the girl, whispering in her ear.
“I.K. What the teachers did was N.F. Between you and me, mommy thinks they have P.F.B.”
“Language!” She giggled, mimicking the voice Ryōshū would often use to scold her. “So, I'm going to have extra classes with Miss Faust?”
“Yes. On the afternoons and Saturdays. It's just until you catch up with the others.” Ryōshū preemptively added, already expecting pushback.
And yet, Araya took a deep breath and smiled as wide as she could, giving her mother a thumbs up.
“I'll show them I am the G.A.L. I'm going to learn everything so fast that I'm going to start reading the second grade books!”
“Good. T.T.S.” Ryōshū got up and ruffled her hair before picking her up to carry her the rest of the way. She couldn't let Araya think she didn't believe in her. She couldn't snuff out her bright future just because of what a few shit parents did. Araya would move on to the second grade, no matter what.
A child that faces the fear would be even stronger if her mother faces it by her side.
She thought back to the peculiar teacher. Faust, was it? Did she really believe in Araya just from reading one application paper and observing her for one day. S.W. Ryōshū couldn't help but finally notice that throughout the whole conversation, Faust didn't ask for a single translation of their SANGRIA. Maybe she really was that sharp.
“Mommy. Can we stop by the fruit stalls and get more watermelon?”
“S.G. L.G.”