“European Dragons have a compulsive desire to collect treasure, can anyone tell me why that is?” Eliza asked in her loud lecturing voice while a picture of Beowulf holding a shield up against the European dragon’s fiery breath. English fell off her tongue, precise and certain. Every other classroom in Kyo University spoke fluent Japanese but her English Students had no choice but to speak the language in her lectures. Translated notes would be put up online later but for now she scanned the attentive and thoughtful faces for any sort of answers.
“Greed?” An uncertain voice piped up and Eliza couldn’t help but grin in response. No one in her English Literature Classes ever got the answer right.
“European dragons are known as the pinnacle of greed, a Representation, but you have it backwards. They are known as symbols of greed because of the treasure boards. Do I have any other guesses?” Eliza asked while scanning the crowd. Seconds ticked past her. Inching along. She had the answer in her mind, waiting for hands to shoot up with random guesses. Random conversations in Japanese were starting. She was losing them. She gave a sigh and pressed a button on her clicker. An image of dinosaur bones popped up on the screen, “Medieval Europeans would have discovered dinosaur bones in the same areas they found jewels and gold. We know this because Griffins are often associated with the same symbolism early on but thanks to the success of Beowulf, and letter Tolkein’s own Hobbit novel Dragons and gold have become inseparable in modern literature, fantasy, and pop culture. And speaking of The Hobbit I want your reviews in on Tuesday. If you needed an extension the time has passed. We’ll be starting discussions on the book next week. If you want to write about the similarities between Beowulf, The Hobbit, and literature after that you can request one of my own Thesis. I’d be happy to be a source. Have a good day and reread your essays.”
Chairs were scraping the second she began her conclusionary speech and students began to mill out one by one before she had even stopped talking. She watched them go with a smile knowing full well most of them wouldn’t even start the essay or research until the day the assignment was due. She just folded her arms across her blouse, portions of her shoulder tattoo visible down her left arm and above her left breast on her chest. Most would assume it was from a poor mistake in her youth but in actuality it was a European dragon twisting down her arm, the visage of one of her favourite stories, Beowulf. The clothing she wore was lighter than normal, advantageous in the dying spring and rising Summer. Even after twenty years and two children she still had a slim and beautiful figure without a trace of gray in her hair, something Haru complained about endlessly. She knew some of her male and even a few of her female students had been catching glimpses of her body in the lighter and more revealing clothes. Hoping desperately that the hem of her collar would cross her cleavage and give them something to look at. However beyond the slightest appearance a line her cleavage remained tightly snapped in her clothing.
A few of her students approached her after class and she forced them to address her in English. She never spoke Japanese with her students and if they persisted she’d break out progressively older forms of the language until it was unrecognizable and they cooperated. You didn’t teach by babying students, they had to want to learn and no matter what they whined and complained about she knew she got results.
The afternoon progressed very easily. She did some marking in her office and met with a few students one on one to explain some of her lectures and points. Awards and honours lined her wall in a neat row and dozens upon dozens of books stood on shelves behind her. Some of which were so advanced even people who spoke native English wouldn’t be able to understand them. All her students were future lawyers, politicians, teachers, and businessmen devoted to learning the language. Some people joked that learning English was pointless and that an English degree would simply leave them high a dry. These people wouldn’t ever do business outside Japan. Instead they’d just remain ignorant to the going one of the world and never get to meet the versatile language and all its glory.
Truth be told Eliza was nearly a hundred percent sure her career path had been influenced by her own cloudy past as a native to an English speaking country. That all seemed so distant now, faded memories of working her way up a corporate ladder. She had long forgotten what she was supposed to look like and could only picture her beautiful ethnic form. Not that she really saw herself as ethnic anymore. It was the white American tourists that were strange and all looked the same now. Not that she was sure she’d ever been like that. Had she been a rude woman? She didn’t care. All that mattered was her personal life now and what that meant for her. Two beautiful daughters and a loving husband made up her world and she couldn’t picture any better life than cuddled up next to Haru finishing a novel while he watched something on television that just blurred into the background as white noise. She was Eliza Yamamura and wouldn’t change her existence for the world. She just knew she had changed at one point.
Today was a warm Friday but once Eliza got outside she immediately knew the Tokyo sky would rain. Kyo Univerity loomed behind her as she crossed the stone steps and archways with her jacket pulled on tightly and her handbag swinging with the movement of her body. Late studying students sat about and hurried from computer labs to the libraries while the honk and chime of congested traffic filled the air. Eliza hadn’t bothered driving to work since a train station had been built right at the university’s foot nine years ago. She had driven to work before Michiko was born and taken the train after her second child had come to exist. The station was now old in comparison to some of the high tech and modern stations downtown. Kyo Univerity Station showcased a type of design that had fallen out of favour in recent years. Large artistic murals and statues were a type of free and random design that had been driven over by low colour, low design stations with sharp angles and modernistic designs. But even those were falling out of favour as a strange fixation on British style stations came into prominence in the last year. Eliza simply rode the train to the most modern station with large empty chambers that reminded her of the London Underground and small shops lining the side of the rails as if it was a gift shop at the end of a theme park ride. Coffee had been cut from her diet when she’d been pregnant with Hiroko. Suddenly Caffine had tasted awful and she’d strictly avoided it since. Sixteen years now and still she caught herself glancing at the recent invasion of a logo that gave her déjà by. She felt like the popular brand in that very station had been a common part of her diet in America but now it just felt like a foreign invader, like one of those humorous fast food joints her children had been addicted to when they were both five but had outgrown with strict control over their food intake.
Eliza didn’t pay the coffee shop much heed though. True impulse purchases for her were never so temporary or cheap. She walked almost automatically to the book store in the small strip of shops and soon wandered the shelves with the latest horror novel clasped in her hands, fluent Japanese passing over her eyes as easily as English. She devoured words, conversations, and references with voracious eyes and soon enough she was at the front of the strode purchasing it. It was at that moment that a sudden burst of creativity hit her. A class on innate references they were expected to understand. Tropes and references lost on other cultures and how understanding these could help students better avoid manipulation. She immediately snatched up a notebook and pen and purchased them as well. Her train ride home was spent jotting down concepts and ideas for an experimental class at the university. One to help students resist manipulation better. She could tie it into her field by crossing it with references and tropes often found in English literature. It was perfect and her notes flooded past her fingertips and onto the page until her stop was chimed and she left her the station close to her home district. Large homes lined the streets and losers flaunted expensive cars and slutty girls around like it made them cooler. Eliza just ignored the night owls coming out to play and before long she opened her front door and was practically sprung upon by a nine year old who looked ridiculously similar to her.
Michiko was talkative and Eliza already knew every detail of her daughter’s day before her shoes were even off. She walked into the house with her daughter clinging to her arm and smiled upon seeing her other daughter Hiroko who also looked very similar to her. The teenaged girl was slumped on the couch with her completed homework splayed out in front of her while one of the various anime on television stations blared over the house. Hiroko gave a slight wave signalling she knew her mother had returned and Eliza walked into the kitchen with her younger daughter following her closely. She put her bag down and began quizzing the nine year old on what she wanted to eat. The chatterbox of a girl began listing things off and soon enough the two of them were chopping vegetables. Eliza’s knife worked neatly while Michiko’s was messy and untrained. They had nearly finished chopping when the door slammed again and footsteps entered the foyer. Eliza continued to work until suddenly Haru was behind her. His hand rubbing her ass while he leaned over her shoulder and planted a firm kiss on her cheek. His hands felt up her waist and she smiled knowingly while he backed away and greeted his daughters.
They ate dinner as a family and Eliza waited with baited breath as the night progressed. Minute by minute she grew antiser as Michiko was put to bed and read a story ten levels above her reading capacity to help her fall asleep. Hiroko stayed up longer, spending time awake and well so Eliza got down to reading her book while Haru watched a show. Eventually after much waiting their teenage daughter went to sleep and within seconds they were bursting through their bedroom door in a fit of feverish kissing. Haru kisses every inch of her skin while they closed doors and quickly removed clothing. Haru’s Penis popped out of his clothes while his hands fondled her breasts. He was taking charge and leading the entire ordeal. Something had gone well at work and Eliza was just willing to let him have her. His dick slid into her vagina and he began thrusting hard making her bite her lip in pleasure while he took her. He swished back and forth, kissed her shoulder, face, and lips with passion, and generally made her feel good. Compared to that night in his muggy apartment many years ago he was no an expert with her body. He knew exactly how to react to her and she knew exactly how to react to him. Bodies moving as one while pleasure wracked over them. Genitals locked in a sexual dance while swety scents began to mingle. Eliza was in bliss and that bliss only heightened when he shot his load into her. Sperm and semen jetting into her body and filling her with her husband’s seed.
Afterwards they lay in bed comfortably while his hands rubbed her skin making her feel safe and protected. He asked her if she was going to read and she simply nodded before he rolled over and fell asleep next to her in the giant lamplight. Eliza reached over and plucked her book off the end table and began to read it. Fluent Japanese passing over her eyes. A smile broadened on her face, content and quiet. Happy to be who she was and have everything she had. No magic sushi entered her life but something potentially life changing just did and not in the way she expected.