Ever since that day when he had "set three rules" with Teacher Kinoshita, Kyosuke seemed like a different person.
In class, he no longer secretly fiddled with his electronic pet. Instead, he worked hard to straighten his little back, and his gaze was a few degrees more focused than before.
The Japanese lessons that had once made him squirm in his seat no longer seemed quite so dull.
The scratch of his pencil across his exercise book became the most reassuring background sound to him in that moment.
Only in the evening, when the afterglow of the setting sun dyed the window lattice a warm orange, after he had carefully finished the final stroke of his homework and received his mother's inspection, would he solemnly invite his Pikachu out of his schoolbag.
On the screen, the yellow electric mouse, under his meticulous care, seemed livelier with every bit of interactive feedback, and those little black-bean eyes also seemed to shine even more brightly.
The third episode of Pokémon aired right on schedule.
Ash Ketchum and his Caterpie, after a not especially intense tussle with the relentless Team Rocket, suddenly saw a dazzling white light burst from the little Caterpie's body.
When the light faded, the once frail Caterpie had astonishingly become a Metapod, emerald-green from head to toe and as hard as gemstone.
When the cartoon's ending song began to play, many children who owned Caterpie electronic pets almost immediately jumped up from the sofa.
As if by prior agreement, they rushed toward their schoolbags, or toward some corner that had long since been forgotten.
Those children who had once felt dejected because they had drawn the "weakest" Caterpie, and had even put it away on a high shelf, now had sparks of hope reigniting in their eyes.
They carefully