Lesson Learned

You let the world get a little bigger

Her fingers trembled when she picked up the small piece of paper and read it,

'Your gift has been quite comforting over these last number of days—especially since your father skimped out on proper heating for the classroom—Unfortunately, I won't be able to take this with me in the end. So please make sure you give it to someone special.' – Koro-sensei.

Her eyes stung when the tears built up again, finding it hard to breathe, but she tried to stay composed, breathing slowly, staying calm like he'd taught her.

Mitsuko swallowed and opened the first page of the guidebook and was instantly greeted with a manga page of him building a birdhouse while she was trying to block out the noise.

'The first key tips of birdhouse building are often neglected by most newcomers to the craft.' There was an illustration of Koro-sensei in a plaid shirt and overalls crafting a house. 'The first thing you've got to keep in mind is your basic insulation. Birdhouses made out of at least 1-inch-thick wood provide good insulation, unlike....'

She nearly choked at how ridiculous the advice was as the whole comic strip went into extraneous detail on the craft.

Mitsuko rubbed her eyes and kept reading while the rest of her friends read their own guides and looked through the memories.

The more she read on the more personal the advice became, going from emergency blood transfusion tips—she still wasn't quite sure why he felt a need to include that—to stuff about proper stress management and meditation.

'Though your mother did say you weren't a fan of it.' A comic strip of Koro-sensei mused while trying to meditate. 'I'll admit it was difficult at first for me to get into but if you just give it some more time you might enjoy it—try incorporating it into a Yoga routine!'

She smiled feebly and kept reading until she came to a written page where he'd written down.

'I've decided to play our game again, except it isn't really fair since you won't be able to ask me questions, but after everything you've told me, I believe you are owed some information from me in return for the information you've freely shared with me over the past three months without a demand for anything back.

There's still a great deal we never got to talk about, but I think it's important you know that the strongest people are the most emotional. I understand this is a philosophy that contradicts what you've been told your whole life, but please indulge your teacher one last time to lay on what your brother called 'hippy advice'.

Being emotional is being human, it's what drives our passions and helps us understand each other, and if we try to deny that part of ourselves then we're trapping ourselves in a dark place where we can't get close to people.

When you first arrived in my class you pushed people away, but then you made friends and you let the world get a little bigger. I hope you understand how happy it made me seeing you learn that. The only thing I ask is that you don't let it shrink again and that you remember it's alright to be upset and angry, but don't hold onto it.'

Mitsuko wiped her eyes when some tears hit the pages, sniffling loudly. The paralysing grief from earlier passed through the more she cried, as a lighter sadness waved in.

She rubbed her nose and continued to read the last line.

'And, lastly, while your personal happiness is important, please remember....that cutting your teacher's salary for your own amusement is not funny!'

There was an illustration of a homeless looking Koro-sensei begging on the street.

A laugh came out of her throat, broken up and mangled when she stared at the image he'd drawn, wrapping her arms around the book as she buried her face in the pages.