Chapter 1 – English Debate Competition
Midnight, 1.42 AM. Kotaro Nozomi is sitting on his chair focused on his laptop. The city outside murmured in low frequencies—occasional tire screeches in the distance, an apartment air conditioner humming down the hall—but none of it reached him. His screen glows bright as he watches an Oxford Union debate On the screen, two young men in navy suits stood behind wooden podiums, flanked by golden drapery.
Oxford Union Debate: "Is Language a Barrier or a Bridge?"
The speaker on the left opened confidently with:
"Language doesn't divide us. The way we misuse it does."
Kotaro blinked once, then rewound ten seconds and played it again.
Then again.
Then once more, this time mouthing along under his breath, shaping each syllable silently.
He wasn't sure if he agreed with the point. But he liked the rhythm. Clean cadence. Assertive but unforced.
On the other half of his screen was a Google Doc. Not for class. Not for anyone else. Just a collection of phrases and sentences he'd been tweaking for months.
"Fluent isn't fast. Fluent is flexible."
"Debate is performance. But logic is the script."
Random thoughts like that. Maybe they'd become something. Probably not. Books in Japanese and English surrounds his room all scattered. A worn-out old grammar guide, sticky notes on many of the books.
With a sigh, he then closes the video and clicked over to another tab—his notifications. A message from "Mateo_1342002" had arrived six minutes ago.
Mateo:
"Hey man, can you take a quick look at this cover letter? Got an application for Trinity Dublin. I want it to sound 'natural' but I can't just figure it out. You know what I need now lol."
Kotaro has helped many with similar situations. He is on a community on writing things like this. Mateo is one of closes, they also sometimes play games together on many occasions.
Kotaro opened the file. The first sentence read:
"It is with deepest and sincerest enthusiasm that I hereby express my intention to engage with the opportunity you have most graciously extended."
He stared at it….
"What?" He thought, "That sentence sounded like a five-year-old trying to be smart."
He deleted it. Started again:
"I'm excited to apply for the opportunity you've described…"
Simple. Clear. Honest.
After a while, he had managed to cut the entire letter from 460 words down to 212. He added one note in the margin:
"This version is shorter, but it sounds like something you'd say out loud."
He attached a quick voice clip too—explaining some other key notes of grammar and amongst other things. He didn't like using voice messages, but Mateo and many others said they helped.
He hit send. The cursor changes shape as it loads the file, then it stopped to normal.
Kotaro then stretches in his chair. He knew he should go to bed but just couldn't yet as he then open some random blog post. After a quick scroll he then found:
"10 Cool English Phrases for Japanese Speakers in Business!"
He knew he had to check. He skimmed the post:
「頑張りましょう!」(Ganbarimashou!) = "Let's nail it!"
"No it doesn't."
"Ganbarimashou is a quiet kind of promise. It's sweat and persistence. 'Let's nail it' sounds like a YouTuber doing a backflip off a vending machine."
He opened the comment box. Typed:
"'Ganbarimashou' implies shared effort and humility. 'Let's nail it' implies showmanship. Completely different tone and context."
Then paused. Then deleted it. No one read the comments anyway.
He checked the clock. 1:42 AM.
His eyes moved to the calendar on his wall. A red circle marked today: "Class 2-C: School Festival Responsibilities Meeting."
"Whatever that means."
He powered off the screen. The room fell into complete darkness.
The next day arrives.
The rice cooker clicked. Steam rose gently from a bowl of miso soup. Toast popped up next to it.
Kotarō sat alone at the kitchen table, dressed in his uniform, hair still damp from a half-hearted shower. The television mumbled in the corner.
"In other stories, ESL students across Tokyo are embracing Global Day—"
"They just said 'ESL' like it's a brand. And pronounced 'global' as 'groh-baru.'"
He sipped his soup. Ignored the buzzing LINE messages from his class group. Probably just memes or schedule reminders.
He opened his English textbook—not the assigned one. His own. Full of notes in the margins.
One flyer sat folded next to it. A rough English draft of the school festival announcement.
"Come feel the English spirit togetherness!"
"That sounds like a cult that only sings karaoke."
He didn't laugh. But he did rewrite the phrase under his breath.
"Join us and share the spirit of English communication."
Better. Still bad. But better.
The morning train was packed. Kotarō stood with one hand on the overhead rail, pressed between two taller men in suits.
A digital poster scrolled by above the door:
"Jump into the new yourself!"
"What does that even mean? Am I possessed by future me?"
His phone buzzed again. He ignored it. Scrolled through English-language news sites instead.
A girl standing diagonally from him wore a debate team pin. She was whispering to herself.
"Society need to hear our opinion... because... important things..."
_"Grammar's bad, but she's got rhythm. More than most native speakers who think tone doesn't matter."
She looked nervous. He respected that more than confidence faked with filler words.
Kotaro arrived to school as it buzzed with early morning energy. He walked through the gates unnoticed, casual.
He saw Haruka Shizune laughing with a group near the lockers. One of the few voices that cut through background noise with clarity instead of volume.
"Let's just keep cool and crush it, yeah?"
She wasn't loud. But everything she said landed.
_"She speaks in punctuation. Every clause lands where it should. Even her jokes have structure."
He walked past. Quietly.
Then, class starts.
"Alright everyone, settle down!" Mr. Takeda stood at the front of Class 2-C, holding a printed notice.
"As part of the school's new language initiative, each class must participate in the English Debate Exhibition at this year's festival!"
Groans. Laughter. One guy in the back shouted, "No thanks!"
Kotarō didn't react. Not until Takeda added:
"Each team will have three students. At least one must be a non-club member."
That made heads turn.
"That's oddly specific," he thought. "Why one non-club member? Is this an actual effort to be fair, or just another way to make sure everyone suffers equally?"
The class rep, already writing names, looked around.
"Haruka-chan, you're good, right?"
"Sure," Haruka said with a calm smile.
"Watanabe, you too. Just do it."
Laughter. Shrug.
One spot left.
"This isn't going to go well. Not for me, anyway."
The rep looked around slowly, like a casting director in a low-budget film. Then her eyes landed on him.
"Kotarō-kun. You're good at English. Not in any club, right?"
He stiffened. The sound of the room changed. Or maybe he did.
"No. Not me. Anyone but me. I didn't even speak during roll call. There are houseplants with more verbal output than me."
Dozens of eyes didn't exactly stare—but they suggested their attention. It was worse than being watched. It was being noticed.
He didn't move. Didn't speak.
"Stay still. Breathe. If I say nothing long enough, the moment might pass."
Mr. Takeda smiled.
"Great. That's our team."
The class relaxed again. Someone clapped. It was over before it began.
Haruka turned slightly in her seat. Met his eyes. Measured him.
He looked back. Blank. Still.
"I can rewrite five types of business emails. I can break down rhetoric in three dialects. But I've never said 'I object' in my life."
The bell rang.
And just like that, he was in the English Debate Competition.
-Chapter 1 Ends-