So here I am firmly rooted in the wood chips looking up at my savior in awe, when I suddenly realize that I have yet to hear his voice. I have never been the sentimental type so me agonizing over something so insignificant as this takes me by surprise. I only look up at him, staring rather stupidly, with my mouth flapping like a fish, unable to find the words to thank him. The perfect moment...his profile eclipsing the sun making his skin glow, when I recognize him from class hours earlier.
I was introduced to the class in that embarrassing way that I have come to accept is universal no matter where you school. I had to stand in front of the entire class as the teacher introduced me. Thank God for small miracles that I didn't have to say anything at all. The teacher must have thought I spoke little to no Japanese which was entirely false. My father insisted to have English taught to me first, but my mother made sure that I was very fluent in the event her father ever came around, and we would be able to meet. In fact, I was quite fluent, perhaps better than most of my peers that were staring up at me now, but I did have a flaw. I wasn't taught to read.