Yume by Sifton Tracey Anipare

Author:Sifton Tracey Anipare [Anipare, Sifton Tracey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Fantasy / Urban
ISBN: 9781459747395
Publisher: Dundurn Press
Published: 2021-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

“Ima okinai — Ima okinai — Ima okinai —”

I open my eyes, warm and snuggly in my futon. The first thing I notice is my alarm clock, which I must have snatched up in my sleep, held tight in my own kung fu grip. It’s singing its little phrase, and the screen flashes a number: 8:57.

8:57.

8:57.

I have to be at Zozo in three minutes. No — I should be at Zozo right now.

“Son of a —!”

I get dressed, chew three Mentos from my purse, and bike faster than ever before. My stomach growls angrily as I chain my bike — I think I’ve chained my bike — shit. I make a mental note to double-check as soon as these trial students leave. If I don’t get fired before then.

I run into the building and catch the elevator just before it closes, scaring the daylights out of some sour-looking obaachan who can’t decide whether to get on or not. “Hrrngh … gaijin, kuso —” The doors shut on her cursing. Whatever. She looked familiar but I’m too freaked out to worry about it. She isn’t a Zozo client; that’s all that matters.

It’s been a while since I’ve been this pissed off with myself. How the hell did I sleep through my alarm clock? More than that, how did I manage to grab it in my sleep and not wake up from it at all? I only have a few seconds in the elevator to dab the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve and pray my makeup isn’t running all over my shirt. Droplets continue to stream down my face. I must look awful. My lungs still burn when the doors open. I prepare to apologize on all fours … with Bucho around, it’s what I have to do in this kind of situation, right?

The lights are on, but the lobby is empty. No parents, no children, not even a staff member at the reception desk. For a brief second, I wonder if Zozo is open. “Uh … hello?” I call out, taking off my shoes. “Sumimasen? Anybody home?”

I hear “Ah, shibaraku omachi itadakemasu ka?” then Manager sticks his head out of the staff room door. “Eh?!” His eyes are wide, like he wasn’t expecting me. “Oh! Cybelle? Why so early?”

“My trial lesson,” I try not to pant. “Manager, I’m so sorry. My alarm clock … I don’t know what happened …”

Manager gives me a blank stare.

“Yesterday. Just before I left. Remember? Trial lesson, three boys, kindergarten age?” Dude, come on; don’t do this to me. Not today. Not now. “Manager, you said … your exact words were —”

“Trial? Ah!” he smacks his forehead and swears. “So sorry! Trial lesson, cancelled yesterday. Ah … no trial.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” My purse, along with my dignity, hits the floor with a dull thud. “Are you serious?”

“Ah, yes, very serious. They do not trial lesson at this school anymore. They go to other school, in Osaka — ah! Wait! Don’t leave.

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