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For: Fujitaka

Series: Card Captor Sakura

Snip#: 03

 

Posted: 2001-11-27

Last Revised: 2002-05-01

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            “A teacher,” Gorou echoed, a sneer lifting his lips.  “You want to be a teacher.”

 

            A boy shrank in his seat, turning a brilliant shade of red as Gorou repeated his statement for the whole class to hear.  “Hey everyone, Shin here wants to be a teacher when he grows up!”

 

            Snickers and hoots sounded out, the loudest ones coming from the boisterous group of roughnecks seated at the back of the room.  They were the class bullies, and they all looked up to Shimada Gorou as their leader.

 

Gorou smirked.  He was dark-haired, pale and slight of frame.  He had large dark eyes with long lashes, and a smile that often duped his teachers into thinking him sweet, mild-mannered, and polite.  However, his peers knew the real Gorou --- he was the one who played tricks, hurled insults, bullied classmates into giving him things or doing his homework for him, swaggered down the hall with his allies, and lorded over the classroom when the teacher was absent.       

 

            Like what he was doing at the moment. 

 

            Gorou’s dark eyes glinted maliciously as they focused on Shin, whose face was still flushed with embarrassment.  “Stupid little Shin wants to be a teacher,” he drawled, “when he doesn’t even know his multiplication tables.  What kind of teacher will you make?  What’ll you teach your students --- go up front, take a piece of chalk and start crying?”  And here he twisted his features into a parody of Shin’s crying face, quivering wildly as if he were having an epileptic fit.  “I-I-I’m s-s-sorry sir, I-I-I don’t k-know the a-a-answer---”

 

            His friends let out howls of laughter at that.  The rest of the class tittered nervously.  Shin only sank deeper in his seat, his face now pale as a sheet. 

 

Suddenly a soft voice sounded out, barely heard above the ruckus.

 

            “But Shin studied so hard that he passed all his Arithmetic exams without having to use a single crib note.”

 

A uncomfortable silence ensued. 

 

Heads turned toward the corner where the speaker --- thin, bespectacled, soft-spoken Fujitaka --- sat staring at Gorou over the edge of a novel.  “If one can’t pass even the simplest Arithmetic exam without cheating,” he continued quietly, “I’d like to think that’s a clear indication of stupidity.”

 

            Snarls of anger and excited whispers sounded out, but Gorou raised his hand for silence.  His dark eyes were narrowed.  “Excuse me, Kinomoto, but are you saying that my friends and I have been using crib notes?”

 

            A wry smile lifted Fujitaka’s lips.

 

            Gorou’s smile thinned.  “And do you have proof?”

 

            Fujitaka shrugged.  “Everybody here knows what you’ve been up to.” 

 

            The murmurs rose at that statement.  His Shin parody instantly forgotten, Gorou stormed down the aisle to Fujitaka’s desk and slammed his palms down on the table. 

 

His classmates jumped.

 

“Prove it,” Gorou hissed.

 

            Fujitaka only looked at him.   

 

“Well?”  Gorou’s nostrils flared.  “Prove it!”

 

There was a pause before Fujitaka slowly got up from his seat.  At his full height, he stood a few inches shorter than Gorou, but his brown eyes were dark with determination.  His classmates watched as he pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose, cleared his throat, and pointed a finger at Gorou’s pocket. 

 

“Kanji lists,” he softly said, “go in the left pocket.  Cribs for English go in either shoe.  You hide the rest in the toilet and excuse yourself during exams to take a look at them---”

 

“If we do hide them in the toilet,” piped up one of the bullies, “how do we all get to use them, eh?”

 

“Yeah, you don’t see us going to the toilet in groups, do you?”

 

“You all hide your cribs in different places,” Fujitaka replied.  “I was only talking about Shimada-san’s hiding places.  If you want, I can tell the class all about yours as well.”  A small sardonic smile lifted the edge of his mouth.  “It wouldn’t take much to figure the rest of you out, really.”

 

Gorou had turned an interesting shade of purple.

 

Fujitaka turned to him.  “I found something under the sink in the toilet the other day.”  With that, he lifted his desk and fished out what looked like a long hastily-scribbled list of numbers.  “I believe this is yours?”

 

It was all too much for Gorou.  He let out a snarl and lunged for the paper in Fujitaka’s hand, managing to grab on to the end, tearing it with an audible rriiipp! before knocking the desk over and landing on the floor with a crash.  He lay there in a mess of limbs and paper, groaning painfully. 

 

Then the classroom door slid open.  “All right boys, take your seats---”  The teacher froze in the doorway.  “Shimada!  What on earth happened to you?”

 

Gorou, helped by his friends, shakily got up to his feet.  His face was scratched, and as he reached up to hide his bleeding lip, the class saw his hands were trembling.

 

“Shimada-san fell over my desk, sensei.”  Fujitaka simply said.

 

Much to Gorou’s displeasure and the teacher’s confusion, the class burst into gales of laughter.

 

 

[ cut ]

 

 

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