Chapter 191

I stuck my fork into it and warm chocolate oozed out with a sweet billow of steam. It was a fondant au chocolat. I took a bite and a rich acidity spread through my mouth. When I tried it with some whipped cream, the warm chocolate and the cool cream blended together nicely and it tasted even better. “H-how is it?” “It’s really good.” “I-it’s not too sweet?” “Nope, it’s just the right amount of bitterness.” “Good.” Kotobuki’s face relaxed and a relieved smile came over it. When I saw her face, even though I had dark chocolate in my mouth, I started to feel incredibly sweet. “Um, do you… want to listen to some music?” “Sure.” “What do you want to listen to?” “Hmmm. Beauty and the Beast?” “Th-th-th-th-that’s not—” “You don’t have it?” “I-I do! But—” “Then let’s listen to that.” “O… okay.” Kotobuki rummaged through her CD tower. I watched her as I ate my fondant au chocolat, and once again I discovered something unusual. “I didn’t know you collected coins.” “Wha—?” Holding the soundtrack for Disney’s Beauty and the Beast in her hand, Kotobuki started and spun around. She followed my gaze, then blanched for some reason. I was looking at the second shelf from the top of her bookcase, where some books were leaning to one side because Kotobuki had pulled those paperbacks out, leaving an empty space. A placard about the size of a bookmark with a five hundred–yen and ten-yen coin in it was sticking out behind the leaning books. “Were those coins from a limited minting or something?” “Uh, well—” Kotobuki opened her mouth, then shut it again, then opened and shut it once more. “Do you mind if I look at them?” “You can’t do that!” Kotobuki stood up suddenly, and just as she’d hugged the stuffed penguin before, she grabbed the placard holding the coins in both hands and pressed it tightly against her chest to hide it. “Why not?” “You just can’t!” She refused intently. “Um… that reminds me, right after we started school this year, you made me pay to replace a library book. The Great Gatsby, remember? I’m pretty sure that was five hundred yen, too.” Kotobuki had forced me to compensate her for a book Tohko had eaten. “I paid you the money and the next day you brought me fifty yen in change, and I paid you back the ten yen change for that.” Was that—? Kotobuki pulled her face into a frown and glowered at me, her face bright red. She had the very beginnings of tears in her eyes. “That five hundred–yen…” And ten yen on top of that… “Is that five hundred yen?” Actually, 510 yen. “I-I don’t remember!” Kotobuki was breathing very faintly now, and she turned her face to one side, the coins still pressed against her chest. Judging from her reaction, I saw that it pretty much had to be the same coins, and my cheeks instantly grew hot, too. It wasn’t just my school emblem; she’d held on to things like that, too. She was probably embarrassed to have me see the coins, so she’d hidden them behind the books. “Why do you care?! I don’t remember, okay?!” She hunkered down on the carpet and wailed, her face bright red, and I scooted over to her on my knees and brought my face close to hers. She became instantly quiet and her eyes widened. “Um, I…” Kotobuki’s hair had the sweet aroma of chocolate followed by the slight smell of citrus. It must have soaked it up when she was getting everything ready. My face was burning, too. “I guess… that makes me happy.” Kotobuki’s eyes widened even further and then—“R-really?”—she looked away shyly and her lips curved into a small smile. As I, too, flushed, as if a light had turned on in my heart, I asked, “Could we listen to the CD?” “Okay…!” Finally, the theme song from Beauty and the Beast started to fill the room. It was our song. On that snow-piled roof, this clear melody had pulled me back and given me courage. “This is the English version, huh?” “I have the Japanese one, too.” “When the English one ends, let’s listen to that one then.” “Okay.” Sitting across from each other at the little table, eating cake and drinking coffee, talking as we listened to the music. That’s all we did, but it was a lot of fun and a little bit ticklish. Each aware of the other’s existence, heart fluttering. Kotobuki seemed to be wondering about what kind of chocolate Takeda had given me, so—“Let’s open it and see.”—I said. She untied the ribbon on the chocolate Takeda had given her, too, and started loudly pulling the paper off. “She said they matched.” “I just don’t know if that’s true. There could be an eraser in mine that says YOU LOSE.” She doesn’t trust Takeda at all… When we got all the wrapping paper off, two perfectly square boxes were revealed with the same design in different colors. Mine was blue and Kotobuki’s was red. Just like the wrapping paper. “Let’s open them at the same time. One, two—” At Kotobuki’s mark, we lifted the lids off simultaneously. We each found a half-missing chocolate heart. Kotobuki had the right half of the heart. I had the left. “So this is what she meant when she said they matched. I’m glad it’s not an eraser.” “Urk… I-I was joking when I said that.” I suggested we try fitting them together, and Kotobuki reeled with a “Huh?!” “Look, Kotobuki.” I picked up my heart and reached out a hand, which Kotobuki blushed at and brought her heart closer. The two halves fit together and became a single heart. “Perfect.” “Yeah.” We smiled shyly. Then we carefully returned the hearts to their boxes and our eyes met and again we both looked embarrassed. “Did you know that I had chocolate to give you last year for Valentine’s Day, too?” Kotobuki made an unexpected confession. “What? Really?” “I thought you might not accept it if it was homemade, so I bought it at a store… but I put a lot of effort into choosing it! But still, I didn’t manage to give it to you. I made it all the way to the classroom, but then I got embarrassed and held back. I think I ate half of it by myself at home.” After she’d said that, her face became suddenly sad and she dropped her gaze. “What’s wrong?” “… I was just remembering Yuka.” My heart clenched. Yuka Mito was a girl who’d been Kotobuki’s best friend, a classmate from middle school. She’d died the year before, before Christmas. “… When I was stuffing myself with chocolate, I got a call from Yuka and she told me, ‘You can’t eat all of it by yourself. Leave me some, too.’ And then, the next day… she ate the chocolate with me.” Seeing Kotobuki drooping made it hard for me to breathe, too. Kotobuki blinked, as if chasing away her tears, then lifted her face and smiled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring things down. Yuka would be angry at me. She’d say this was no time to talk about stuff like that.” “It’s fine. She really cared about you a lot, didn’t she?” “Yeah. And I liked her a lot, too. I’ll be best friends with Yuka forever,” Kotobuki declared, her gaze clear—her voice cheerful—and it made her look strong and amazing. For only a moment, Tohko’s mother, Yui, and Kanako flashed through my mind. Mr. Sasaki had said they were best friends. Had Yui and Kanako’s relationship been as strong and certain as Kotobuki and Mito’s? Or… “Oh! That’s right! There was something else I never managed to give you.” Kotobuki stood up, interrupting my thoughts. She opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out a postcard, then held it out to me in both hands, fidgeting. “It—it’s pretty late now, but it was to say hi over the summer. You can… take it now, if you want.” The postcard was printed with a drawing of pink and pale green morning glories, accompanied by a message in light blue pen. Thank you for coming to see me in the hospital. I’m really sorry I chased you off. I was actually really happy you came. I hope we can talk more next term. The feelings the postcard revealed seemed to echo through my heart. Her youthful emotions spread through my chest to fill it. Just looking at the faint writing on the postcard in my hand, I started to feel indulgent and affectionate. Kotobuki was looking at me nervously. I looked at her and smiled. “I got it. Thanks.” Kotobuki smiled happily. I thought it made her look very cute and dear. That term was over and only a little time was left in the last one, but I hoped we would talk more and that I could find out more about her. While I was looking down at the morning glories and the warm words written on the postcard, I suddenly realized something. “Oh yeah—there’s something I never gave you, either.” “Really? What?” “I’ll bring it tomorrow.” She broke into a smile, and excited, she asked, “Whaaat? It’s going to bug me.” “Then let’s meet up halfway tomorrow and go to school together.” When I said that, Kotobuki smiled way more and nodded. “Okay!” When I got back home, I ran up the stairs and started searching my drawers without even changing clothes. “I was sure I stuck it in here somewhere.” As I went past handkerchiefs and belts, I focused my eyes, feeling the same butterflies as if I were searching for treasure. Finally, the package I sought appeared among my socks. “There it is!” I cheered despite myself. When I tore open the wrinkled bag with the name of a souvenir shop on it, a phone strap with a pink woven ball on it spilled out. It was the one Tohko had made me buy when we’d stayed at Maki’s villa over summer vacation. I hadn’t had a chance to give it to Kotobuki and it had ended up stuffed away in my drawer. I grabbed it and held it up in front of me, making the pretty little ball dance. I hope you’ll like this, Kotobuki. The corners of my mouth relaxed and I gazed at the ball with ticklish feelings. The pink ball swaying and twisting. The fragrance of grass. Summer vacation, trembling at the waterside. Suddenly— Something stroked a soft spot deep in my chest. H-hey—what was this feeling? It hurt—the same instant I felt that, the estate deep in the mountains, lit by the setting sun, resurfaced vividly in my mind. A scarlet ball rolling energetically over the grass. A wide street lined with souvenir shops. Masses of almost stifling green. The mysterious pond filled with deep, silent water, as if hiding among the trees. The songs of birds. The refreshing summer breeze running over the back of my neck. A fluttering white dress. Long, dancing braids— Once I’d remembered one thing, the rest floated up in my mind like flipping through the pages of a book. Tohko bathed in the burning evening sunlight, her loose hair swaying, her eyes shining, running toward me, saying, “You came!” Tohko so afraid of ghosts that she huddled in my bed, not moving, looking like she was about to cry, quaking and telling me, “I’ll keep watch for you to make sure no ghosts come in here.” Tohko excitedly choosing books in a small bookstore. Tohko, her voice exuberant, as she told the cashier, “Can you gift wrap those, please?” Wrapping paper the color of dark tea. A golden ribbon. Yuri and Akira’s book room. Tohko skimming through the pages of a book on a chaise lounge, her contented smile. How we had sat in the same chair and read a book together, reading the character’s lines aloud. The feelings were bubbling up unstoppably, like the cascade of a waterfall spilling violently into a deep pool. That mysterious summer. The eerily beautiful story of flowers and moonlight. Tohko putting on a raincoat and frantically coming to search for me in the rain and thunder, despite her fear of the darkness. Her voice calling my name. Her hand holding mine. And then the sadness of her gaze tinged in the pale white light of dawn. Tohko, her eyes lowered, looking at me as I slept. The evanescent murmur that had dropped from her lips. “I wonder… how much longer… can I be here?” Tohko, who seemed as if she might melt away at any moment into the space between reality and fiction. She had turned her back on me and said, “I can’t tell you,” over and over and clung to me as if her feelings were spilling over, then complained through gritted teeth, “All you do is torment me.” That day, Tohko bit my hand, and it had been swathed in a searing heat and started to throb. “I won’t forget it.” “After all, you were here with me.” Tohko smiling, her eyes warm and her hand locked with mine on a moonlit path. “I won’t forget it.” A summer like a dream—like a story. “I won’t forget it.” My heart trembled and several times a hot lump rose in my throat. My eyelids burned. Why hadn’t I remembered until now? Why was I remembering now, like this, here? Tohko had been hiding something from me that day. She’d been sad and alone. And yet she’d pretended that nothing was wrong and smiled kindly for me in the moonlight, like a pretty flower. How had I forgotten? Even though Tohko had looked so sad that morning when she’d murmured and brushed her trailing hair from my cheek. Still clutching the phone strap in my hand, I crouched down on the carpet. As I fought back the memories and the stabbing pain pressing in on me, I grit my teeth and hung my head. At the base of the stairs, my mother called, “Time for dinner!” But I couldn’t go right now. I couldn’t let them see my face so twisted with suffering. My throat burned. My eyelids felt like they were on fire, too. Fighting the continuing ache, stifling my voice, what ran through my mind were Tohko’s white hands and her gentle smile. I couldn’t sleep that night. Even though I’d had such a good time with Kotobuki, all I thought about was Tohko. My body hurt all over, as if it were being pulled apart. When it started getting light beyond the curtain, my eyes were all puffy and my throat was sharply dry. I climbed out of bed with sluggish motions, went down to the bathroom on the first floor still in my pajamas, and washed my face in the tepid water. The mirror showed my face looking utterly exhausted. I was supposed to meet up with Kotobuki this morning… I tried again—this time I washed my face with cold water, like slapping myself in the face, and tried to change the course of my feelings. But Tohko’s phantom clung to my mind. I changed into my uniform and forced myself to take bites of the bacon and eggs, salad, and toast my mother had made. Something like this had happened before. The morning of the culture fair. When I had overlaid myself on Akutagawa’s suffering and fled, afraid of getting hurt. Tohko had stood in the road, just after a rainstorm, bathed in pure light with a collection of poems by Robert Browning in her hand. And then she had smiled at me. “Good morning, Konoha.” I put my coat on and left the house earlier than usual. Outside, the sky was covered in ashen clouds, and the air was cold enough to make my hands numb. Even after I’d cut through the mazelike neighborhood and come out on a perfectly straight tree-lined road, there was no sign of a book girl reading a book. There was no reason to think Tohko would be there. This fact made it feel like my heart was tearing in half. Soon I would be at the convenience store where Kotobuki and I were meeting. I had to smile. I clenched my cold hands tight, tensed the muscles in the corners of my mouth, and turned the corner, when— “Good morning, Konoha.” Tohko was standing there. Wearing her navy-blue duffle coat over her school uniform, holding her schoolbag and a paper bag in her hands. Breathing in white puffs. With a gentle smile— I stood there in a daze; then my head and cheeks grew hot, as if they’d been lit on fire, and my heart pounded in a frenzied dance. What was Tohko doing here?! Was she an illusion? No, she was real. Tohko, who had appeared at my house a few days before, her face as pale as someone deathly ill, and railed at me in a trembling voice. She looked at me now with the same peaceful gaze she’d always had. “I came to give you back your scarf. I’m busy studying for my exams, so I won’t be able to see you pretty much at all.” She held the paper bag out to me. “… Have you been waiting for me long?” Tohko’s voice and the way she looked at me were so exactly like usual that I was confused as I asked her that. “Just for a bit.” But when I took the bag and brushed her hand for an instant, she was as cold as ice. “Your eyes are swollen, Konoha. Did you get enough sleep?” Why was she bothering to worry about me? My throat squeezed tight and an unreasonable anger welled up in me. Even though she hadn’t told me the truth. Even though she’d ignored my wishes and tried to force me to write. Why would she worry about me?! Even though her hands were much, much colder than mine. “You have to get a good night’s sleep. Even if you don’t sleep, you should lie down and close your eyes. If you do that, eventually you’ll be able to fall asleep.” She spoke in a sisterly tone and opened her bag. “And this is something for you.” She pulled out a long, thin glossy bag and showed it to me with a smile. “Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, after all.” The bag was violet cellophane, its top tied with a gold ribbon. I accepted it from her and found it was heavy and dense. “Chocolate…?” “Nope. It’s red bean jelly.” Tohko answered offhandedly. I think I might have told her once that I preferred red bean jelly to chocolate… “It’s… holiday jelly.” For the briefest moment, she looked at me sadly and her lips alone formed a faint—a truly faint, evanescent smile. “C’mon, it’s a holiday!” The smile that I’d seen a year ago, as brilliant as the sun, overlaid itself on her and it felt like my chest was being crushed. Tohko quickly got a sunny expression back, then—“I’ll head off now. Thank you for letting me use your scarf. Good-bye.”—she said and turned her back. When Tohko said, “Good-bye,” and not, “See you later,” I felt a fiery panic. The atmosphere was cold enough to stab the skin, the clouds were heavy, and everything was obscured in gray. Tohko was leaving! She was disappearing right in front of me! I started to run after her and call out for her to wait, then stopped with a jolt. Kotobuki’s face was peeking out worriedly from around the opposite corner. My feet came to a stop, as if they were stitched to the ground. It was as if the impulse that had flared up had been splashed with cold water. Kotobuki had her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest, and her imploring, mournful gaze was turned on me. Tohko’s delicate frame—her long, swaying, diaphanous braids—was growing distant. I couldn’t get my voice out. Kotobuki and I looked at each other for a while on the frozen morning road. Once Tohko’s figure had disappeared around a corner, Kotobuki put on an awkward smile, which looked forced. “We ran into each other before we got where we were supposed to meet.” “… We sure did.” I, too, desperately tensed the corners of my mouth. But it probably didn’t look like I was smiling. “Did you plan to meet Tohko, too?” “No. She came to return a scarf she borrowed from me. She said this red bean jelly was for me.” “Ah…” Kotobuki didn’t comment on the fact that the contents of the cutely wrapped package was bean jelly and not chocolate. How long had she been listening to my conversation with Tohko? What had my face looked like when I saw Tohko? “Hey, we’re going to be late. Let’s go to school, Inoue.” My heart clenched as Kotobuki tried her hardest to smile. “Yeah,” I answered tersely and put the bag of red bean jelly in the paper bag. The wind gusted hard and I pulled my head into my shoulders. I pulled out the white scarf Tohko had just returned and caught the fragrance of violets. “Good-bye.” I saw Tohko’s face smiling over the scarf and pain welled up deep in my throat. I was starting to clumsily wrap it around my neck to drive the image away when— Kotobuki put her hand against the back of mine. When I stared at her in surprise, she was frowning, her face sullen and on the verge of tears. “Could I… have that scarf?” “Wha—?” “I’ve been wanting one that color.” Kotobuki looked up at me desperately. Her hand was trembling on top of mine. “I want your scarf.” Below Kotobuki’s hand, the back of my hand burned like fire where Tohko had bitten it that summer. “… Okay,” I agreed with a bitter smile. “Sure.” “Would you… wrap it for me?” I took the scarf in both hands and circled it around Kotobuki’s neck, just like she wanted. Kotobuki watched uneasily, holding her breath, as I wrapped it in two layers. When I took my hands away from the scarf, I felt as if Tohko’s white hands had slipped out of mine. “Is that good?” Kotobuki smiled brightly, looking as if she was about to cry. “Yup! Thank you. I love it. I’ll take good care of it.” A bond with Tohko had been severed. As I became aware of that pain, I saw Kotobuki’s clumsy smile—her determined smile—and thought, I’m okay with that. If I kept the scarf, I knew it would make me remember Tohko. So I was okay with it. Besides, Kotobuki was smiling. We held hands until we were close to school, and then we went in. It was after we’d reached our classroom that I realized I’d forgotten the phone strap at home. It’s been seven years now since Takumi died, I think. I still think about him from time to time. I was supposed to meet you in front of a building in Shinjuku, but I was a little late. A man I didn’t recognize had started talking to you. You had your face turned away in annoyance, but he was oblivious and had a sunny, charming, and vivacious expression— That was Takumi, wasn’t it? Back then you coldly said, “He’s a scout for a cabaret. He’s so frivolous, just awful.” But in my heart I was shocked that there was someone with the courage to scout you for a cabaret! Most men would be hesitant to even speak to you because you’re so very beautiful. But Takumi didn’t even think about it. It was the first time I’d ever seen a boy approach you that brazenly and keep on talking and having fun even when you ignored him. I think it was about six months later that you started going out with Takumi. When I invited you to the house for Tohko’s first doll festival, you breezed in with him. Takumi told me that you had run into each other again by chance outside the same building in Shinjuku. “That’s gotta be destiny! Right? Right? You agree, don’cha, Yui?” he said in the same cheerful, lighthearted tone as half a year earlier. That was when I first learned that Takumi was an adolescent of eighteen years of age. Since he was so young, at first I was worried about you two going out. Besides, he was always interacting with so many women, I suppose as part of his scouting job, and there was so much risk in that regard that it exhausted me. But Takumi could be childishly meek and innocent, too, despite how big he was physically. Good at sweet-talking, good at apologizing, when he said, “Sorry,” to you with a mischievous glint in his eye, you’d find your cheeks lifting in a smile and you’d forgive him. Really, Takumi felt like a little brother who needed looking after. I helped him out in so many ways, he even called me a nice lady. Tiny little Tohko would crawl up to him, and he would lift her up high and smile as he told her, “When you grow up, you come and marry Uncle Takumi.” That made me smile, too. Plus, Takumi was even good at listening. Like a whimsical cat. He did exactly as he pleased, but before you realized it, he was at your side, listening attentively to what you were saying. “You got somethin’ on your mind, Yui? Why don’cha tell your baby bro all about it?” When Takumi said that to me in his casual tone, it caught me off guard. I mean, why would anything be bothering me? “Oh, gosh, are you planning on being a life coach? I’m not going to risk getting myself indebted to you. I’m very happy.” “Really? I bet you haven’t been sleepin’ lately.” “That’s been going on for a while. When I’m waiting for Fumiharu, I find myself staying up all night. After all, when Fumiharu gets home, I want to greet him with a smile and say, ‘Welcome home.’ ” “Does your man come home late that often? What’s he doin’?” “He’s working, of course. Besides, ever since Tohko was born, he comes straight home except when they’re doing final proofing. And he plays with her on his days off.” But you know, Kana. I was so very happy that it scared me. “Aaagh, we are late. This is your fault, Inoue!” “Sorry.” We ran into the classroom right before homeroom started. As both of our shoulders heaved with our breathing, Mori came over, grinning mischievously. “Looks like yesterday went well. Showing up at school together, that’s bold!” “Uh, well…” “I-it’s not like that, Mori.” Mori peered up at my face when I responded, flustered. “Did Nanase’s chocolate taste good?” “… Y-yeah.” “Wow! Did you hear that, Nanase? That’s great! Congrats! That’s a load off my mind.” Mori threw her arms around Kotobuki. “D-don’t talk so loud, Mori.” Kotobuki’s eyes were panicked. The teacher came in, and we were finally able to go to our seats. Kotobuki was ferociously typing out a text message. She was probably writing to Mori telling her not to run her mouth. I noticed that Akutagawa’s chair was empty again today, and my heart skipped a beat. Being absent for two days in a row… He must be pretty sick. I thought about texting him later. When class started, a muddy weariness came over me. My body was heavy and my mind was a haze. It felt like all of my senses were numbed, and it had become harder for my heart to feel anything. And running into Tohko and exchanging those few words with her… and her giving my scarf back… and the way she had smiled gently when she told me good-bye… it felt like it had happened a long time ago. No, it wasn’t like that. A slight pain stabbed through my chest. I dulled my heart so that I didn’t feel anything anymore. Because if I didn’t, it felt like my chest was going to be ripped apart. Because it felt like I would chase after her, cling to her arm, and scream like a little kid. Because it felt like I would attack her, sobbing, “What’s the secret you’re hiding? Isn’t it cowardly to leave without telling me about it?” At the break, Mori grabbed hold of Kotobuki. It looked like she was getting grilled about yesterday. She was alternately turning red, pursing her lips, or bugging her eyes out. After I sent a text to Akutagawa, I spaced out at my desk. Outside the window was a gray scene of winter bleakness. It might snow again… During second period English, my phone vibrated for a second in my pocket. It was probably a response from Akutagawa. I snuck a look to see who it was from. It was Kotobuki. Surprised, I looked over at her and she turned her blushing face away. Do you want to eat lunch together in one of the open classrooms? I’m not asking because Mori told me to! P.S. What was that thing you were going to give me? Oh—the phone strap. I’d left it in my room! That finally made me realize my slipup, and I hurriedly sent her a reply. Sorry. I forgot it at home. I’ll bring it tomorrow. Lunch is cool. Kotobuki looked down at her cell phone’s screen with an extremely tense expression. Then she glanced covertly at me and smiled ever so slightly in embarrassment. After that she turned away again and wouldn’t look at me at all. When class was nearing its end, my cell phone vibrated again. Kotobuki…? I opened my phone under my desk and saw I’d gotten a text message. As soon as I checked who’d sent it, the numb sensation I’d had till then vanished in a flash. It was like I’d been punched in the face. Ryuto! My heart started pounding hard, my head and throat grew hot, and I broke out in a sweat. I’m done playing around. When you’re done with that class, I need you to get your things and come to the school gate. I should just ignore a text like that. Then I’d be able to go back to my ordinary life. I would stop making Kotobuki look worried. I stared at the screen so long my eyes started to lose focus, and I clenched my jaw. The bell announcing the end of the period rang out coldly overhead. The teacher put away the textbook and left. The classroom filled with the racket of a break in classes. Kotobuki approached me shyly. I shut my phone and stood up. “Sorry, lunch might be out.” “Wha—?” I kept my face turned to one side, unable to look Kotobuki in the face any longer, while I grabbed my bag and coat, then hurried out of the room. My entire body was wreathed in a fiery rage. It was rage at Ryuto, but at the same time it was rage that boiled up at myself, too. “You should learn who Tohko Amano is…” Then quit hitting me over the head like this and tell me! Tell me what’s going on in Tohko’s head! Tell me why she said I had to write! I changed my shoes at the entrance and rushed outside. I was still carrying my coat in my hand, so it felt as if the cold were slicing at my skin through my clothes. Leaden clouds releasing flakes of snow covered the sky. Blowing puffs of white with my breath, I ran toward the school gates. Kana, do you know who Ole Lukøje is? Ole Lukøje, the fairy of sleep from a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale. He wears no shoes and makes no sound as he steals up to children and casts sweet milk in their eyes, whoosh! and charms them into slumber. Under each of his arms, he carries a long umbrella, and over the good children he opens the umbrella with pictures drawn on it. When he does that, those children have fun dreams all night long. Over the bad children he opens the umbrella with nothing drawn on it. Those children sleep deeply, without dreaming at all. The day before he died, Takumi gave me a little violet-colored bottle. It was cute, shaped like a heart, with fine silver dust in it. “It’s the sleeping powder of Ole Lukøje,” Takumi whispered, gazing into my eyes. He said that if I took this, all of my pain and sadness would melt away like snow. I wouldn’t feel hatred, doubt, or jealousy. I’d be able to sleep untainted, as if cradled in the arms of God. He said that I could take some, and I could let other people have some, too. The next day Takumi jumped into the road and was taken to heaven. He was only nineteen. The snow stuck to my face and turned into tepid droplets of water. The snow that fell on my eyelashes got into my eyes and blurred my vision. When I reached the gates, a taxi stopped right in front of me. The rear door opened and someone got out. Short hair, a straight, tall back. Wearing an honest gaze I knew well— Akutagawa! What was Akutagawa doing here?! I thought he was out sick. Was it just a coincidence that he’d appeared at the gate right then? Or could it be— Akutagawa bent at the waist and stretched a hand into the car. It looked like he was helping someone inside get out. Pock… the soft sound of an aluminum cane hitting the road. No— My heart stopped. The snow fell like cold flower petals. Her skirt billowed in the wind and rippled slightly. Pale skin. A fragile body. Big eyes. Lips the color of cherries. “Ko-no-ha.” A bright, clear voice called to me through the gate as I stood rooted inside. Akutagawa held her up and a peaceful smile came over her face. It was Miu.