I walked up to the science teacher's desk, unsure whether I was in trouble or not. He looked as calm as ever, but I had no idea what he could want me for.
 
"How have you been adjusting, lately?"
 
Huh. So maybe he's just interested in how the new guy is doing. That's a relief.
 
"I'm adjusting alright," I said honestly.
 
"And how has your heart been?"
 
His tone stayed mild, but his eyes grew analytical, watching me for any reaction. Hopefully, I'm only imagining that I flinched at that question.
 
"Ah... no problems, really," I said, not quite so honestly.
 
His face grew slightly more stern. THIS was the side of him I was hoping not to see today. The "You're in it deep" face all teachers seem to share.
 
"Oh?" Though his tone hadn't changed, it somehow seemed all the more dangerous for its placidity. He was dead serious right now. "I've been told it has had several problems, actually. The frequency of said problems seems to point to you neglecting your medicine. Can you deny this?"
 
I couldn't maintain eye contact, staring down guiltily.
 
"...No, teacher."
 
"Listen to me." I'd never heard him so stern.
 
"This school is here to help you. It is here to give you a chance at a real life, NOT to isolate you from society, out of the public eye. It is not a circus freak show. We want the best for you. However, you have your own part to play in that. If you want a life at all, and not simply to die tragically at twenty, you will NOT neglect your medicine again. Understood?"
 
I bit back any number of sharp retorts I could have made. Somewhat because it would have just made things more difficult, but also because he was right.
 
"Yes, teacher."
 
"One more thing."
 
I raised my head to see him smiling a bit sardonically.
 
"Lighten up, will you? You could have it a lot worse. So smile. No sense coming here to conquer your disability if you're just gonna mope around all your life because of it."
 
"What do you know?" I grumbled before I could stop myself.
 
Where does he get off? Let's see him have to deal with the possibility of dropping dead with a single bad jolt to the chest. Lecturing me on my medicine is one thing, but-
 
A soft chuckle interrupted my internal raging. He was looking oddly at me, rubbing his chest absentmindedly. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a somehow familiar bottle of pills, shaking it a little.
 
"More than you'd think, Mr. Kubo," he said as understanding dawned on me. "Go on, now. You'll miss lunch."
 
"Ah... yes," I said, subdued. As I began to exit the class, I stopped and turned. "I, uh... I won't forget my medicine again."
 
He looked up from his papers, smiling at me from under a particularly messy lock of hair. "Then our talk was productive. Goodbye, Mr. Kubo."
 
"Goodbye, Mr. Nakai."