‘Of course I look down on them. All those girls think about is love and what’s right in front of their eyes. They might be strong personalities in our class, but their marks are lousy. Ten years from now, who’s going to end up on top, I was thinking.’
Tojo-san sounded tough, even caustic. Kokoro’s eyes widened. She’d had no idea that Tojo-san had the same negative view of Miori Sanada as she had.
‘Wow …’
‘What?’
‘Moé-chan, I’ve never heard you speak like that before.’
‘Well, it’s true!’ Tojo-san sighed, and leaned back into the sofa. ‘Have I put you off?’ she asked, a look of worry in her eyes, and Kokoro shook her head.
‘Not at all. I’ve been thinking the exact same thing. I could never talk to them either.’
‘And the way Mr Ida said, You’re pretty mature, as if he’s analysing everything, makes me sick. He’s wrong anyway – it’s not that I’m so mature, those girls are just childish. That’s why I was thinking that if you ever came back into school, Miori and her group would have tried to be friends with you.’
‘No way! Why do you think that? After they did those hideous things to me.’
‘Doesn’t matter. Right now the person they want to cast out is me,’ Tojo-san declared. ‘Since they’ve now done that, if you came back you might be friends with me again. So they’d probably get all chummy with you to freeze me out even more.’
‘No way …’ Kokoro was speechless.
She remembered the note inside her slipper cubbyhole at school. Wasn’t that a sign Miori Sanada was trying to get back in with Kokoro? Was it a way of ensuring Kokoro and Tojo-san would not be friends again?
She’d been in agony all those months, certain she was going to be killed – and those same kids would forgive her just for that?
She was stunned.
‘Forgive’ – what is that, anyway?
I did nothing wrong, and it’s me who’s not going to forgive. But there I was unconsciously expecting to be forgiven by them, which is so stupid.
Tojo-san looked at Kokoro. ‘It’s only school, after all.’
‘Only school?’
‘Yes.’
The phrase whirled in her head. She’d never, ever thought of it that way.
School was everything to her, and both going and not going had been excruciating. She couldn’t consider it only school.
Mr Ida’s words, that she was so mature, had irritated Tojo-san, yet Kokoro did find her a little different from the others. Maybe because she’d changed schools so many times. She didn’t consider she belonged in any one place.
‘To be honest, I always thought you’d turn up at school again, Kokoro-chan. But the only time you did was that one day, wasn’t it?’
‘Eh?’
Tojo-san looked intently at Kokoro. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I didn’t help you when it was all going on. I’m sorry.’
‘No – it’s OK.’
At least Tojo-san had kept going to school, which Kokoro found amazing.
‘Moé-chan, are you really changing schools?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you worried about going to a new school?’
‘I am, but after all the stuff that went on here, I feel less worried than free, and I’m looking forward to it. It’s as if I can reset things.’
‘I see.’
Kokoro couldn’t bring herself to tell her that she was mulling over whether to switch to another junior high in another area. But Tojo-san might have picked up on it. ‘If you ever transfer to another school,’ she said, ‘and no one talks to you the first day, it’s OK to cry.’
‘Cry?’
‘Yeah. In front of everybody. Do that, and a couple of people will come over and ask, Are you OK? or Please don’t cry. Make friends with them. Cry, and you’ll stand out and at least some people will pay attention to you.’
‘Seriously? Doesn’t that only work because it’s you? You have to be pretty or they won’t let you get away with it.’
‘You think?’
Tojo-san was really being straightforward today, and deliberately provocative. She didn’t even deny she was pretty. Kokoro hadn’t thought she’d believe in a game plan like crying on purpose.
‘But you didn’t cry like that at junior high, did you?’ Kokoro asked.
‘No, I didn’t. Everyone was kind to me, so I could get by without crying.’ She winked.
‘But isn’t crying a bit childish? I mean, wouldn’t it just draw the wrong kind of attention?’
Tojo-san frowned.
‘Really?’ she said. ‘Hm. Maybe you’re right. But it worked whenever I changed to a new elementary school. Guess I won’t be trying it at my next junior high.’
‘I’m sure there’ll be students who want to be friends with you.’
Kokoro knew she had been made privy to her friend’s true feelings and it made her happy.
Kokoro and Tojo-san resumed eating their ice cream. The topic of conversation switched to their favourite TV series and celebrities.
When they’d finished their ice cream, Tojo-san’s expression turned serious.
‘Don’t let them get to you,’ she said, her voice stern. ‘There are bullies like them everywhere, and there always will be.’
It sounded less like Tojo-san was talking to Kokoro than that she was convincing herself. There was a tremor of regret in her voice.
There are bullies like them everywhere – this statement sounded as if it was based on Tojo-san’s own experience. There always will be. Not just Miori Sanada, but probably everywhere.
‘Yeah,’ Kokoro said, nodding.
She had no idea what she wanted to do in April.
And it was 29 March.
The castle would close tomorrow.
She didn’t know what the future would bring, but she wanted to pledge this to Tojo-san.
‘We don’t want to lose,’ she said.