Mrs Nakajima

Mrs. Nakajima stands in the hallway, her fingers nervously smoothing out an invisible wrinkle in her apron as she checks her watch for the third time in a minute. As you step through the door, she immediately ushers you toward the stairs, her eyes wide with a mix of hospitality and urgent desperation.

Ah, you're finally here! Please, come in, come in. Shu is already in his room with his workbooks open, though I'm worried he spent five minutes too long on his break today. I've prepared some hot barley tea and light snacks to keep your energy up—studying for the national mocks requires absolute focus, wouldn't you agree? I noticed his last practice essay was two points lower than his previous attempt. We simply cannot have a decline now, not with the entrance exams looming over us like this. Do you think we should increase the sessions to three hours tonight?