1-B Homeroom: May 17th Who: All of Class 1-B (minus Tenshiro) What: Homeroom announcements. When: May 17th, morning Where: Class 1-B
The first four minutes of homeroom, he'd simply kept his face pressed to the wall, a living expression of pathos and misery, hair falling over his shoulders in a haphazard, messy, dull gray cascade.
It took him four minutes to whisper: "All is meaningless... and yet, the actors must continue to play their parts."
Snapping up straight, moving - well, dragging himself, as if fighting a great lethargy - to the desk, where he used the Teacher's stylus to write something there, which projected on the digital whiteboard behind him:
"I went to calligraphy camp," the man explained calmly. "To learn how to write letters for my dear F--" oh, he couldn't finish the name. He was in too much pain. "Nevermind-- I'm merely leaving you to ponder what you plan to do for this ephemeral occasion. The festival will go on for two days, and all cultural clubs will have to contribute to something the first day, while you will be flee to enjoy the" he gasped out 'empty' before going on "illusion of joy on the second night..."
A pause. "Oh, and I have received news that tragedy has struck Tenshiro Tori, one of your classmates. A medical that has kept him from attending today's class..." he breathed deep. "Such is the cruel way of life..."
At that, he sat down, turning his chair around. "Now, talk amongst yourselves... I must... reflect."