Chapter 413: Reading

Hiragana, katakana and kanji were the three primary reading characters in modern Japan. During his travels and visits throughout Asia, Kazi learned and memorized every facet of Japanese linguistics. He further developed his understanding and mastery when he visited Japan and the small islands. Every dialect, how to use a brush and stroke a kanji, he learned it all. Here in this era, it was not exactly the same as it was there. Since they were at the literal start of Edo era, a period of transition, Chinese influence reigned supreme and a writing system known as Kanbun was used by officials. Kanbun was Japanese writing using Classical Chinese.

In general, kanji mixed with hiragana was common for personal letters, while kanji-only kanbun was used for official or public documents. Poetry and very personal letters often used fewer kanji and mostly hiragana. Books printed entirely in hiragana were made for those with limited literacy.

So Kazi had to choose what to teach them to read. He decided to go with kanji.

These boys and girls were smart; and no, he was not praising them. They were close to being geniuses. All of them. In half a day of study, they had memorized twenty-seven words. Although it was to be somewhat expected given they were children and surrounded by the language, Kazi was impressed nonetheless. He didn’t expect them to be this adept. Oh, sure, they were a far cry from learning sentences. Yet, in Kazi’s estimation, in a month or so they would be able to be completely fluent in reading.

Except Yuna.

While the kids laughed and talked, treating the learning process like a game (which he encouraged), Kazi had do some one-on-one teaching with Yuna. Brows furrowed, a brush patting her hair, she thought deeply and then spoke an incorrect word. It was a pretty bad guess too.

“Not quite, Yuna,” he said, his tone even and patient, though there was a firm undercurrent in his voice. “This isn’t a guessing game. Look again. Focus.”

Yuna’s small hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her lips pressed together in frustration, but she nodded. Kazi could see the storm in her eyes—embarrassment, determination, and something else, something fragile.

He picked up his brush and drew the kanji on the paper once more, this time in deliberate, exaggerated strokes, slowing down for her benefit. “This is yama. Mountain. See how the strokes rise and fall like peaks? Picture it in your mind—strong, unmoving. A mountain doesn’t waver.”

Not all students were the same. Not everyone was a genius that caught on fast. Speaking out a word and regurgitating it; not everyone could do it.

Yuna stared at the brush as if willing the word to take root in her mind. Kazi watched her carefully, noting the tight line of her mouth, the quiver in her brow. She wanted to understand, but her frustration was tangling her thoughts.

’Definitely dyslexia.’

Just because one had a learning disorder did not mean they could not learn.

He softened his voice. “Close your eyes, Yuna.”

She blinked up at him, puzzled, but obeyed.

“Imagine a mountain,” Kazi instructed. “Tall, reaching into the sky. The snow at the top glistens in the sunlight. The base is sturdy, solid, rooted deep in the earth. Can you see it?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good. Now open your eyes. Look at the kanji again. Let the strokes remind you of that mountain you just saw.”

Her gaze dropped to the paper. Something shifted in her expression. She traced the kanji with her finger, her touch hesitant at first but growing steadier.

“Yama,” she said quietly, her voice uncertain but hopeful.

Kazi smiled, dipping the brush in ink once more. He gestured to the second kanji. “And this one?”

Yuna hesitated. She tilted her head, studying the character. It was so simple, three simply lines. So simple, so simple…

So hard for her.

She faltered but didn’t look away.

“Kawa,” Kazi prompted. “River. Three strokes flowing like a river. A river doesn’t stop; it moves forward no matter what. It branches off. Imagine Lake Shinji. Imagine the blue of the water but split in three.”

Yuna nodded slowly. “Lake Shinji in three. Kawa,” she repeated, steadier this time.

“Good,” Kazi said. “Remember this: when you struggle, don’t stop. Be like the river. Keep moving forward.”

For the first time that day, Yuna smiled. It was small and fleeting, but it was there.

Kazi discreetly looked over at the other children. They were still laughing, still joking with the new words they learned. His attention returned to Yuna.

“Again,” he said, sliding the paper closer to her. “Read them both.”

“Yama. Kawa.” Her voice was clear now, confident.

“Good,” Kazi repeated. “Tomorrow, we’ll add more. But for today, remember—mountains and rivers. Strong and steady. Just like you.”

Yuna’s smile widened, and for the first time that day, she believed him. Then suddenly, she grew embarrassed. “S-sorry.”

“For what? This was fun. Don’t apologize.”

“Sorry. S-sorry.”

Kazi laughed, not mockingly. “I accept your apology. And please, feel free to speak your mind.”

Yuna was a bit quiet. On her knees, taking in a deep breath, she cast a couple nervous looks. Like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Who she was seeing. “Um, Kazi, right?”

“Right.”

“You…are a god,” Yuna said it like it was both a question and a statement.

A simple smile and laugh. Kazi crossed his legs. “Doesn’t seem like you’d believe me if I said to the contrary.”

“Yes, um. I don’t think you understand but you make people very…nervous.”

“Do I?” He inched closer and smiled. The former slave woman blinked and swallowed thickly. He smiled and reeled back. “You’re a lady, I’m the one who should be getting nervous.”

“Ah, um…”

Ah, that was too much, was it? She was tomato red.

The store owner, Sun-young, William, everyone stood a bit straighter when they talked to him. The reason was the same across the same, it seemed. He seemed divine. He was so good-looking that it boggled the mind. For the dirt poor where standards of attraction were blurry and meek, Kazi truly was a god.

As a god, when he beckoned the children over, they listened. When he asked them to try and find Sasaki Kojiro, they did so without complaint. When he told them to keep an eye out for blonde woman named Marta who would arrive at the bar near the school area, they accepted.

Kazi promised them knowledge. He promised them the glimmering hope in his eyes.

That was who Kazi Hossain had been in his old life. This was what he did. He educated. He loved. He learned.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep