Gen Itoshi
Sunday, May 10th - 2015
Itoshi residence - Algebra
"The answer is either 75, 1, 185, or 43, and I got 72, so..." Gen gazed down from the equation to the textbook intermittently, nibbling his pencil absentmindedly while attentively listening to the clock ticking and tocking the day away. Suddenly, the solution dawned on him. "Well, 75 is the closest, so it has to be that one." He circled the supposedly-correct answer, a satisfied smile on his face. He could have gone to the public library, but what was the point? Granted, he could find someone he could study with, but what if he got behind and had to trouble the other one into helping him? No, Gen was better off studying on his own. At least that way he could understand things at his own pace.
The next problem proved to be more... problematic. Not the best word choice on that remark, but this was not Japanese, but Algebra. There was no choice to make, only add, substract, divide, and multiply as many times as were necesary, and compare answers. It was just rules, theorems, angles, and some more rules. Precise, with no room for creativity, with only one solution and one solution only for a single problem, and if you got it wrong you had to start over. Gen looked through the window. There was still daylight. It was probably half-past four; a glance at the clock confirmed that it was actually 5:11. Definitively a time for a snack! And on an unrelated note, Gen associated that hour with the fact that the next day, according to the American date format, it would be May 11th, or 5/11. It was obviously a coincidence, and it had nothing to do with anything, but it was one of those things that often one found themselves thinking about.
"Ugh, I've only done like four problems." His father would definitively not approved of such progress. Gen had been at it for almost three hours. Maybe he should put a little more effort and avoid drifting away. He climbed down to the living-room where his mother was watching television. After exchanging some pleasantries and asking her if she wanted something - yes, a coffee, please - Gen motioned to the kitchen (undivided from the living-room) and opened a bag of chips and poured some coffee for her mother. Thanks, dear, she said, and that was all their interaction. No questions about his studiess, no offering to help him, nothing. Gen went to his room. He probably would not get into the top ten scores, but he was determined not to fail.
Not like that time.