I Still Don't Like Sports Day

Today is the elementary school sports day.

When my mom asked me, "Do you want to go?", I answered, "Yeah."
At that time, I really thought I might go.
That was a few days ago.

Yesterday, my homeroom teacher came to my house.
He always comes to see me on Friday evenings.
Actually, it's a bit of a hassle to go out.
Because when the teacher comes over, I'm usually watching TV.
Actually... I was watching TV, but my mom puts pressure on me, saying, "Hey! The teacher is here!", so I have no choice but to stop watching TV and go to the front door.

The teacher also said, "I'll be waiting for you at the sports day tomorrow!"
For now, I just answered, "Yeah."

Today is that sports day.

I woke up in the morning and was watching TV as usual.

My mom said.

"We're going around 9 o'clock, okay?"

9 o'clock... I wonder how long that is from now.
I still can't read a clock.
No matter how many times I'm taught, my head gets all jumbled when I look at the clock hands.

I don't really know, but for now, I answered, "Okay."

My mom always seems busy in the morning.

Whenever I try to talk to her, she always makes a sour face.
She doesn't have to make such a sour face.
I just wanted her to watch this interesting YouTube video with me.

She told me to have "breakfast" at a really good part. Even though it was a really good part.
When I don't stop watching TV right away, my mom stomps over and says this:

"How much longer!?"

Since I don't know the time, I stay silent, and my mom clicks the button on the remote to check how much of the video is left. If the time is short, she says, "Okay, then after this is over!", but if it's long, she says, "There's still 30 minutes left! That's it, it's over!", and puts on her usual pressure. Unfortunately, today's video seemed to be long, so I had to stop it in the middle.

Tch.

Today is sports day.

My mom is more flustered than usual.

On mornings when there are plans, my mom is even more frantic than usual.
That, to no small extent, gets transmitted to me, and my heart starts to feel restless.
That's why my body starts to feel heavy, too.
My mom glances at me as I struggle to move.

I won't say anything, but that side-glance of yours, it tells me everything.
It's all spilling out.

I ate breakfast.
Just a little bit of white rice.
I'm not really hungry in the morning.

I wonder what time it is now.

Mom jabs at me, saying, 'Look, we're leaving at 9:00, okay?'
I keep telling her I can't read the clock.

Since summer vacation, I've been allowed to play games on my tablet.
To play for 30 minutes, I have to finish getting ready in the morning.
That's the rule.
It's a rule, so it can't be helped.
More than sports day or anything like that, right now it's games. I want to play games.
I quickly got ready so I could play my game.
Mom doesn't really say much as long as I do what I'm supposed to.

Mom is still rushing around.

In the blink of an eye, my game time was over. 30 minutes goes by so fast.

Darn.

I recently learned how to sew.
I've started wanting to do something.

'Mom, I want to sew something.'

When I said that to my busy mom,

'Huh?! Right now? We're leaving at 9:00, you know? Can you stop right away?'

'Yeah, I'll stop.'

I don't know how to tell time, but I answered her anyway.

While grumbling about why I have to start something right before we leave, Mom still put the sewing kit and fabric on the table for me.
I can hear every single word, you know.

I always suddenly want to make something.
It's now, I want to make it now.
Adults always say things like 'Why don't you just do it later,' but it's now, I want to make it now.

I can thread a needle, but I can't tie a knot.

'Mom, tie a knot for me.'

When I said that to my busy mom, she silently tied the knot for me.

The silence is scary.

I sewed a rice ball out of polka-dot quilt fabric. It wasn't going very well. Oh, the thread got tangled.

Mom, the thread is tangled.

When I asked my busy mother for help, she looked clearly annoyed and said,

Hey, we're leaving in about 15 minutes, okay? The needle is at the top, right? You can stop now, can't you??

Yeah.

The needle is at the top. I understand that much. That's pretty soon. Mom grumbled a bit but untangled the thread for me.

I became absorbed in sewing the rice ball.
I like this time. It's fun.

Alright! It's 9 o'clock, let's go.

My heart skipped a beat. Whenever I hear the words, Let's go, I start to feel all fuzzy and anxious inside.

But... I wanted to make the rice ball.

...I told you we were leaving at 9!

But, I want to make this...

The fuzziness inside me started to grow stronger.
Mom's face is clouding over again.
But I can't help feeling this way.

No, I want to make it.

I want to make the rice ball. Right now.

Fine, then finish making it and we'll go. I'll wait.

I felt relieved.
I sewed the rice ball.

Hey... it's already 9:30, you know? If we wait until you finish the rice ball, the sports day will be over.

My heart started to feel all fuzzy and anxious again.

Should we just stop now?

When I hear those words, I don't like that either.
I stayed silent.

What should I do?

Don't rush me.
I stayed silent.

Sports day ends in the morning, so if we make it after...

Okay! I'll go!!!!!

I interrupted my mother and said I would go. But inside, I still felt uneasy.

I tried to put on my shoes at the entrance.
My uneasiness kept swelling and growing, and I started to feel like I just didn't want to do this anymore.

I don't want to go after all.

I told my mother that.
My mother stayed silent.
She was silent, but I could tell. I knew how she felt.

It's okay. You don't have to go.

When my mother says things like that, I start to dislike that too.

Noooooo.

My head was becoming a mess, and I couldn't do anything but say I didn't want to. I feel uneasy. I feel uneasy. My heart won't settle. I don't know what to do. I don't know. I don't know.

My father gently said, "Let's go back inside for a moment. Let's talk calmly."
And then, he gently lifted me onto his lap and hugged me while I was feeling unsettled.

My mother...

Went to the bedroom on the second floor without saying a word.
She didn't say anything, but I know.
I wonder if Mom is crying again.

My father kept hugging me for a long, long time.
Gradually, I started to feel calmer.
But I still felt uneasy, no matter what. I don't like it. My father gently asked, "Why?" but I don't know either. If I don't like it, I just don't like it.

My mother came back down.
She wasn't crying, but she looked somehow sad.
She was washing the dishes in silence.

My father carried me to the sofa. My younger brother was watching TV, so I watched TV with him.

In the kitchen, my father and mother are talking about something. I wonder what they are talking about.

Then, Mom said, "I'm going out for a bit," and headed toward the entrance. It sounded like she was putting on her shoes. Where could she be going? I panicked. Is this okay? Is it really okay to leave it like this? Mom is going to leave. Is that really okay?

"I'll go! I'll go to the sports day!!"

I shouted that out on impulse.

I put on my shoes, opened the door, and went outside.
It's a very nice day.

Mom still won't look me in the eye.
Mom often says, "I'm human too! It takes time for my feelings to settle!" So, I think that's probably it.

I walked holding Dad's hand.
Click.
Mom was taking a picture of us from behind.

"You both looked so good from behind!"

She said, laughing.
That's a relief. It seems like her feelings have settled down.

We arrived at the elementary school.
My heart started pounding again.

I can hear voices coming from the schoolyard.

My little brother started running.
Mom chased after him.

Good grief. Even though I'm so nervous.

When we arrived at the schoolyard, it was overflowing with a huge crowd of people.

There are so many people.
It's noisy.
I feel uneasy.

In the middle of the schoolyard, everyone was holding long poles and racing.

I'm not good at this kind of thing.
I really can't handle competitions.
I hate being watched by everyone.

I'm starting to want to go home.

Mom seems to be having fun.
She seems to be looking for her childhood friend, H-chan.

A teacher came running from far away.
The teacher also looks happy to see me.

Everyone is happy that I came to the sports day.

"Oh! Next is the first and second graders' dance! H-chan is going to dance!"

My mother looked at the program and said to me happily, but to be honest, even if H-chan was in it, I'm not really interested in things like dancing.

“O-san, let's go over to the student seating area.”

“You might be able to see H-chan better from over there!”

Since both the teacher and my mother started walking that way, I didn't really want to go, but I had no choice but to follow them.

There was a rope stretched between the spectator seats and the student seats.
The teacher lifted the rope and invited me to the other side, but... my feet wouldn't move. The other side of the rope makes me nervous. I want to stay on this side.

The first and second graders' dance began.
The song was one I had heard somewhere before.
Everyone was dancing with sparkly things on their hands.
I'm not good with this.
Dancing while everyone is watching is embarrassing.

“Oh! There's H-chan! Look! The one with the purple socks! Look! Can you see her??”

My mother looks very happy.

The dance ended, and the teacher invited me to the other side of the rope again.
Honestly, she's so persistent.
I reluctantly went inside the rope.

My chest felt tight.

My mother gently stroked my head and said, “Have fun.”

I held the teacher's hand and went to my seat.
H-chan was there.

“It's O-kun!”

H-chan came over to me.
Everyone else is a kid I don't know.
There are so many people.
I feel uneasy.
My heart is pounding.
I want to get outside the rope quickly.

“O-kun! Look this way!”

When I turned around, H-chan's mother was holding a camera.
H-chan was smiling next to me and making a peace sign, but I was too nervous to even think about that.

That's enough.


“I want to go back over there.”

I said that to the teacher, left her behind, and headed toward where my mother and the others were.
The teacher is chasing after me.

My heart is pounding.
Quickly, quickly, I want to go to where my mother is.

I walked at a fast pace.

I could see my mom and dad.
They were looking at me with gentle smiles.
It made me feel relieved.

I crawled under the rope and went outside of it.

I felt relieved from the bottom of my heart.
I think I did my best, if I do say so myself.

I'm tired now.
That's enough.

"I want to go home."

When I said that to my mom and dad,

"Yeah. Let's go home."

They both said, and gently patted my head.

On the way home, we stopped by a convenience store and bought lunch and ice cream.
When we got home, I immediately said, "I want to eat ice cream!" and they said, "Sure." Usually, they would say something like, "Eat your lunch first!"
I thought that Sports Day must really be special.

I ate a soft-serve ice cream with chocolate sauce on it.
It was incredibly delicious.

After all, I worked hard.

My mom and my teacher both looked happy when I went to Sports Day, and
ice cream eaten before lunch is exceptionally delicious, but

still,

I still don't like Sports Day.

Saturday was my elementary school's Sports Day.

I was prepared for the fact that there would probably be a "ritual" before we left.

The other day, I wrote an article like this.

That the "I've decided not to go after all" right before leaving is my son's important ritual.
That "waiting" is important.

Even though I had just written such an article, I felt incredibly irritated in front of my son.
Unable to stay there, I left my husband to handle it and shut myself in the bedroom.

I felt pathetic because there was such a huge gap between what I wrote on note and who I actually am.

What is wrong with me?

So, I decided to try writing as if I were my son.

Writing it this way, I was shocked at myself for using so many forbidden words and reactions, haha.

At the same time, I also realized that I could write so much about my son.

And yet, I wonder why.
Why do I act like that?

My son, I tried being you, Mom did.
Thank you for always being honest about your feelings.
I think that's exactly why I was able to write this.

From now on, keep saying what you hate, what you love, what you want to do, and what you don't want to do,
keep expressing that you are you, over and over again.

It's tough for Mom, and I might go straight to my bedroom, but I will never run away from you.
I won't leave you alone.

So that you can live strongly on your own

Until the moment you say, it's okay

I will not let go of the hand I'm holding.