IT WAS A WEEKDAY, AROUND midday, so she could get away with not seeing any other junior high school students.
She was seated in the food court at Careo with her mother, eating an ice cream.
Inside Careo were the McDonald’s, Mister Donut, and even Misudo that Kokoro liked, but she avoided them, since students from school were often there.
It had been so long since she’d been outside her house, since the day she’d bought the chocolates for Fuka at the convenience store.
The light outside seemed dazzling, and she was consumed with awkwardness around anyone other than her family or the castle group, but her mother was with her today so she felt less frightened.
As these thoughts ran through her head, she realized she was searching for someone.
Whenever she saw a young person with dyed hair pass by, she’d look carefully, hoping it was Aki or Subaru. Would Ureshino or Fuka turn up on the walkway over there, arm in arm with their parents, like her? Would Masamune pass right in front of her, carrying a bag with the latest video game he’d just bought? She hoped it would come true. She even hoped that Rion, away in Hawaii, might suddenly make an appearance.
How awesome it would be if one of them spotted her, and she could introduce them to her mother as my friend.
But no one appeared.
As it was a weekday, the food court was almost deserted. The others must be in the castle.
‘In the days when you were younger, Kokoro’ – her mother, sitting opposite, was likewise scanning the passersby – ‘the mall wasn’t as colourfully decorated as it is now.’ These days, the stores were decked out with vibrant red, green and white decorations, and ‘Jingle Bells’ rang out relentlessly from speakers above them.
Her mother carried on voicing her thoughts. ‘Do you remember when you were little and we went to eat in a restaurant at Christmas? A French restaurant. You had just started elementary school, or maybe it was a little before.’
‘Sort of.’
She definitely remembered going with her parents to a fancy restaurant that was quite unlike the places they usually went to. And she remembered the lively end-of-year atmosphere in the shops. She remembered how they brought out so many varied dishes, each on a separate plate, different from the usual rice-omelette lunch she was used to at ordinary family restaurants, and she recalled thinking, even as a child, how this was the real thing when it came to food.
‘I remember how they brought out one little dish after another for you and Dad, and I thought it was odd. You finished one and they brought out another. I was wondering if it would ever end.’
‘That’s because we rarely eat a set meal like that,’ her mother said. ‘I remember too. You asked, Can’t we go home now? How much more are you going to eat?’ Her mother laughed. ‘Let’s go somewhere this year, too. That restaurant is closed now, but your dad and I can look for another one.’
Kokoro thought maybe she knew why her mother seemed to be avoiding the subject of Mr Ida or Miori. She hadn’t felt like discussing anything either. Not so soon.
But there was one thing she did want to say.
She turned to her mother, whose gaze was far away.
‘Mum?’
‘Hm?’
‘Thank you.’
Her mother looked intently at Kokoro but her face was expressionless. Kokoro had needed to get that out.
‘Thank you for saying that to Mr Ida. For telling him what I said.’
Truthfully, she was worried whether her story had been properly conveyed. Her teacher must really have a negative impression of Kokoro now. He’d suggested she meet with Miori Sanada, but Kokoro had refused, and now he must certainly view her as a problem child, with none of the honesty or integrity he expected to see in his pupils.
‘You believed me, Mum.’
‘Of course I did.’ Her mother’s voice sounded a bit husky, and she looked down at her hands. ‘Of course I did,’ she repeated, her voice now clearly trembling.
She dabbed at her eyes with her fingers, and when she looked up, Kokoro saw they were red.
‘You must have been so frightened,’ her mother said. ‘When I heard the story, I was frightened too.’
Kokoro blinked in surprise.
‘And I just really wish you’d told me sooner. When I was talking to your teacher, I felt I could understand how you must be feeling.’
Her mother lifted the corners of her mouth into a tired, listless smile.
‘When I told him it wasn’t your fault, I was convinced of it, but I was still worried whether he’d believe me or not. I wasn’t sure I’d properly explained how frightened you really were, that maybe he hadn’t understood, but it took courage to say that.’
Her mother reached across the table and took Kokoro’s small hands in hers. ‘Do you want to change schools?’ she asked.
‘Change schools?’ At first the meaning didn’t hit her. She felt her mother’s cool palm holding hers and then it came to her – she was actually talking about transferring to a different school.
Kokoro’s eyes widened.
The idea had occurred to her before. Sometimes it seemed like a great idea; at other moments, like a backward way of thinking, as if she was running away. There were students from elementary school days that she really liked. It frustrated her to think the likes of Miori would force her to leave. Miori and her gang would never regret what they did, and the anger and embarrassment made her sick to her stomach, picturing them laughing over how they were the ones who had got rid of her.
Until now, though, it hadn’t seemed a realistic option. Even if she’d wanted to transfer, she hadn’t thought her mother would allow it.
But now, her mother explained it. ‘If you want to transfer to a different school, Kokoro, I’ll look into it. It might mean going further away, but let’s research it together – whether there are junior highs in the next school district, or private junior highs, that you could attend.’
But Kokoro was still anxious that even in a new school, she might still fail to manage. Transfer students stood out, and her new classmates might soon discover that she’d run away from her old school.
Still, the possibility remained that she might actually fit in to a new school, as if nothing had ever happened.
It was certainly a sweet-sounding prospect. More than anything, her mother seemed on board with the idea, which gave her a warm, soft feeling inside. Her mother recognized her daughter wasn’t going to be hopeless for ever.
‘Jingle Bells’ continued to peal out from the sound system, interrupted by cheerful announcements of Christmas sales.
‘Can I … think about it?’ Kokoro asked, thinking of her friends in the castle.
Going to a new school was a tempting idea, but it did mean losing her status as a student at Yukishina No. 5 Junior High. She may well lose the right to visit the castle, and not be able to see anyone there ever again. She could not bear the thought.
‘Of course,’ her mother said. ‘We’ll think about it together.’
Afterwards, Kokoro went food shopping with her mother.
She spotted a box of assorted chocolates. ‘Can we get this?’ she asked. She wanted to take it to the Christmas party.
She was thinking her mother might find it suspicious, for she surely couldn’t eat them all herself, but she readily agreed and dropped it into her shopping basket.
They were on their way to the car park, when Kokoro stopped suddenly to gaze at the array of shops that lined the mall.
‘Is something wrong?’ her mother asked.
‘It’s just been such a long time since I’ve been outside.’
The gleam of the lights still made her dizzy. But she found herself getting used to them.
‘Mum, thank you for bringing me.’
For a moment, her mother looked at her as if struck by some unseen shock. She took Kokoro’s hand and pulled it closer to her. ‘I’m so happy we could come together.’
They hadn’t walked like this, fingers interlocked, since the lower years in elementary school. Hand in hand, they returned to their car.