Chapter 60 Neighbors
"I really want to eat some snacks," you mutter to yourself.
This is an experiment. For many people, eating even a little more at a regular meal is unbearable, but they don't consider snacks as food. You don't know why you feel this way about dieting, so you can only temporarily follow the thinking of some people who want to lose weight to deceive your brain, at least to eat a little more.
You searched the small 6-square-meter space again and again, but apart from some seaweed snacks and expired rice crackers, you couldn't find anything else to eat.
You put it in your mouth, chew, but can't swallow. Reluctantly, you spit the food out.
I'm so hungry.
Ever since you realized you were "eating too little," your brain's perception of your stomach has been in conflict.
I initially thought waking up this time would be fine; the house was clean and fresh, the weather was sunny, and I felt like I could just sit inside and daydream all afternoon. Now, however, the discomfort in my stomach keeps giving me a dull, persistent reminder every few minutes: something's not right.
This makes it impossible for you to ignore some ominous points, so try your best to enjoy the peaceful moments except when something strange happens.
Go out and take a look around; maybe having something to do will distract you. I was originally planning to go out anyway to look for general rules.
Open the door.
Close the door.
Turn your head.
The neighbor's door wasn't closed, just a crack facing the direction you were looking. It was pitch black inside, and something seemed a little unusual.
In broad daylight, you broke out in a cold sweat.
What does that mean? That a terrorist attack is being planted right next to your safe haven?
I stood there listening for a while, and I could hear the sound of stir-frying coming from inside. The TV seemed to be showing some kind of comedy variety show, and the funny sound effects, along with the giggling laughter, diluted the eeriness of the darkness.
Should we tell the people inside that the door isn't closed?
Your hand is hanging in the air.
That would be terrible if it were a trap.
Let's go out first.
You live on the third floor. The apartment building isn't tall; the top floor is only four stories, but it's unusually long. Identical, dark metal doors hang along one side of the corridor, and you've passed eight such doors by the time you reach the stairwell.
Downstairs was a green space, and as you stepped out of the building, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. The rustling leaves cast green shadows in the breeze. You looked around and found a suitable bench to sit on. At least that way you could observe everyone coming and going without being obtrusive.
You've already checked; the vast majority of students living in Japanese dormitories are international students (shuko). Your university is a prestigious one, so there are bound to be many international students. It's rare to be "born" in a place with so many similar students, so perhaps you could just stop one person and ask them to find out the answer.
Generally speaking, it's not difficult to distinguish outsiders. Even in the most "vibrant" settings, the eyes and demeanor of locals and outsiders are quite different.
Outsiders are either timid and hesitant, afraid of breaking the rules or angering the locals; or they are very vigilant, sensitive to the gazes around them, and will often subconsciously follow your gaze to find you; or they are very relaxed, with an arrogance that allows them to ignore all local rules.
Of course, there is another type of person who can play the role of a local with ease. They completely hide themselves in the crowd, and unless it's a dungeon-like situation with numbers above their heads, it's really hard to spot them.
Which type are you? Well, that's hard to say. You might aspire to be like the last type, but there will always be someone more skilled who can spot you with a discerning eye.
In short, people walked by in the forecourt from time to time, their steps quick and their faces as cold as if they were wearing masks.
You tentatively smile and greet them, but no one responds. Some people see you but don't want to talk, staring at you like you're some weirdo as they leave. Others completely ignore you.
Is it not okay to greet strangers?
Just as you're about to give up, a figure suddenly appears at the corner of the stairs.
She was a petite, Korean girl, unlike the local girls you saw that afternoon. She had little makeup on her face, wore glasses, and looked very clean and neat.
She spotted you immediately. After you looked at each other several times to confirm your identity, she walked towards you.
You stand up with a smile, finally someone—??
This girl actually stabbed you hard with her elbow!
Are you sick?!
Just as you were about to snap, she spoke up: "Sorry, did I hurt you?"
You frowned, unsure of what she was up to, so you remained silent.
The girl became even more flustered: "Oh, I'm really sorry, I rarely do this, and I still didn't get the strength right. Please understand, we don't know each other, how else can I stop you and talk to you?"
What? It's because of this?
You nodded, a little bewildered, feeling somewhat dissatisfied but having no choice but to accept it: "It's alright, it's already a good thing for people like us to be able to see the higher-ups and exchange a few words."
The girl agrees, tries to smile at you, her round eyes squeeze into slits, and her mouth pouts slightly into a W shape.
"You're new here, right? I've never seen you before. I can tell from your appearance that you're the kind of person who likes to talk. Sigh, I've been here for almost half a month, and half the time has passed without anyone to chat with. It's really driving me crazy." The girl started talking non-stop, and seeing that she was about to stop, you quickly interrupted her.
"that--"
"Hey!" The girl's expression instantly changed from cheerful to annoyed. "I'm still talking, why did you interrupt me?"
"Then, will you continue?" You held back.
However, the girl then talked for more than ten minutes about how annoying it was to have to attend classes, go out to buy groceries, and work for half a month. Her topics were all about her life in the game, but you couldn't extract any information related to the rules.
"Phew, it feels so much better to have said it out loud. This dungeon was so boring. I hope the next dungeon can be in the Northern Seagull Valley, preferably in winter, so we can see the aurora." The girl finally gave you a chance to breathe.
“Speaking of North Gull, my previous instance was the Gull Kingdom. The rules there are really different from here, don’t you think?” You quickly chimed in, looking at the girl with anticipation.
The girl didn't respond.
"I mean, the student union over there seems to be very useful. People go to the student union if they have any questions, but it doesn't seem to be the same here?" Perhaps your way of changing the subject was too subtle. If you had asked more directly, she would have understood what you meant.
"I'm telling you, why do you always say such pointless things?" The girl's face darkened completely. "What's the point of asking these kinds of questions? Why are you just talking to yourself? Can't you read the room?"
The girl said this and then turned and left, leaving you standing there completely bewildered.
Isn't she just talking to herself the whole time?
After reflecting on the way you spoke for a while, your stomach started growling again. The double frustration broke through your mental block. Right, what's there to reflect on? You didn't do anything wrong!
The rules here are wrong.
Even if that girl is an extremely self-centered psychopath, her behavior already speaks volumes.
Whether she wanted to express herself or genuinely wanted to chat with you, why did she change her attitude the moment you mentioned rules? She could have simply ignored what you said and just talked about her own things, just like she did at the beginning.
Is it because rules cannot be discussed?
If that's the case, how do you obtain the rules?
This girl is the only person you've found who seems willing to talk to you after waiting here for half a day. If you wait any longer, you won't find a second person who seems more normal than her, so you'll have to go back to your room.
It wasn't a complete loss. You comforted yourself, replaying the girl's behavior and words in your mind over and over again, trying to find more information from the few clues you had.
As you ascend the stairs to the fourth floor, at the end of the long corridor, in the direction of your room, stands a man.
He crossed his arms over his chest, wearing the same masked smile as the passersby, but his eyes held a familiar, inexplicable condescension, like a superior looking down on a subordinate.
It's as if he knew you would come back and was deliberately waiting for you here.
“Gibberish,” he said.
Seeing that you didn't understand at all, he was a little annoyed and switched to Japanese: "Students these days, really? Don't you learn any Japanese at all?"
You remained silent, not wanting to argue with him any further, and walked past him to return to your room. Unexpectedly, you were stopped: "You're quite an interesting student, looking so full of doubt, bumping around like a headless fly. But, in your country, didn't anyone teach you manners?"
You pursed your lips, trying your best to ignore the malice in his tone. "Excuse me, could you please move aside? I have an urgent matter to attend to." Don't argue with him, don't argue with him. Right now, you know nothing about this world; don't waste your breath arguing over trivial matters.
He didn't move at all; instead, he took another step forward and blocked your way.
Upon closer inspection, I realized how tall this person was.
“Don’t rush back to your room,” he said slowly. “As your neighbor and also your teacher, I feel it’s necessary to talk to you. After all, there are many things an international student like you doesn’t understand, right?”
“I’ve heard some things from others…” you try to brush him off, but he interrupts you.
"Others?" He gave a mocking smile. "As a student, you should listen to the advice of your teachers the most."
"I'm talking, why are you interrupting me? Can't you read the room?" You thought for a moment and then unleashed the same combo that girl had used on you earlier.
The male teacher's face turned green instantly, and he stammered, unable to speak.
Hehe, it works.
"Teacher, since you live in the student dormitory, you must not be a teacher of this school." You found this information on the Little Green Book. It seems that in Japan, due to the shortage of student apartments, most Japanese students rent houses outside. The student apartments provided by the school are often rented to international students and teachers from other schools who come to visit temporarily. "As a teacher from another school, it's a bit impolite of you to lecture the students here, isn't it?"
Who hasn't watched a Japanese drama? Looking at the male teacher's frustrated face, you feel like you've grasped the logic of a combo attack, so press your advantage.
“I respect you as a teacher, but you shouldn’t use this as an excuse to attack a student I don’t know. Especially since I’m an international student and I’m not familiar with many things here, you really shouldn’t bully me like this.” The correct approach is to stand on moral high ground and criticize him, pushing everything onto the issue of etiquette.
The male teacher suddenly smiled.
You sensed something was wrong, and before you could even process what you'd said wrong, the male teacher raised his voice: "That's why international students should act like international students, and they should show more respect to their own countrymen and teachers!"
“You should learn proper manners so you don’t cause trouble for others,” he said, grinning maliciously as he grabbed your arm.
You miscalculated! You still used the same approach you had in England and Germany, where you would blame the other party for bullying you when you were in doubt. You didn't expect that the logic would be completely different in Japan.
However, there shouldn't be any problem with saying it that way. It's just that some adjustments need to be made to the thought process, for example—
The male teacher practically dragged you into his room, and you immediately yelled, "Red bean paste dog mena se!"
He bowed in accompaniment.
Feeling the pressure on your arm lessen, you didn't let yourself bask in your joy for too long. You continued, "It's all my fault. I should have been more humbly learning from you. I will definitely prepare a gift and come to listen to your teachings again in the future. I'm sorry for bothering you and affecting your life today! Thank you!"
You bowed again.
He finally let go of you completely and stammered, "It's okay, it's normal for international students not to understand these things. We'll just try to improve in the future."
"Thank you very much for your guidance. I'll take my leave now and go home." You breathed a sigh of relief, bowed again, and quickly returned to your room, locking the door behind you.
What a pervert!
You dusted off your clothes in disgust and kicked the shoe-changing stool by the door in a fit of rage.
When you were struggling with that male teacher, you clearly felt that your strength had decreased a lot.
Reduced food intake, weakened strength, and then looking at myself in the mirror behind the door.
No wonder you think this 6-square-meter room is just right; it's because you've become shorter and smaller!
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Author's Note: Tiger had a bit too much fun the other day, will try to update more on Sunday! Love! Moms, did you go anywhere for New Year's Day? Hehehe
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