“Don’t you have to go home?” she asked.
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Look, don’t worry your folks.”
“I don’t care.”
Minami-san giggled. “They mad at you?”
“They aren’t mad. We had a fight.”
She looked at me, still smiling.
How rude, I thought fleetingly, there was nothing funny about this.
“Listen, brat. When you get home, your mom’s gonna be making dinner for you, like always. A delicious dinner, like it always is. And when you’re eating it, you’re gonna say just one thing: ‘Sorry about yesterday.’”
“I don’t wanna.”
“You’re a stubborn one, eh?”
“But she was the one who was wrong here.”
“It doesn’t matter what the reason for the fight was.”
The way she was talking irritated me. “But it’s a really big deal! Mother and Father are always, always breaking promises to me, saying it’s because of work.”
“Work is a lot more important than you think.”
“I know that. It’s super important. More important than your own children.”
“That ain’t it.”
“Then why is it they always decide that their work is more important than their promises to me? It was the same way this time. She said that they can’t come to my observation day because they have to go on a business trip.”
“Wh—”
Just as Minami-san was about to say something, a strong wind blew up. The sudden breeze forced me to shut my eyes. When the wind decided it was finished playing with my long hair, I slowly opened them again to look at her.
It was only a few seconds. The wind had stolen but a few seconds. I had no idea what might have happened in that scant amount of time.
“Minami…san?”
She looked like a mimosa plant. I was sure she would shrink away if I touched her. The smile that she had been wearing had completely disappeared from her face. I was stunned at this unheralded transformation.
“What’s…wrong?” I asked her clearly.
But she did not reply. She only shook her head back and forth, quietly. Perhaps she wished to say “It’s nothing,” but even a child could tell that it was.
“Hey, Minami-san?”
“Yo, Nanoka.”
Her voice was trembling and she said my name in that trembling voice. It was the first time she had ever called me anything but “brat.” I got a weird feeling. I did not know why she was shaking, nor why she had said my name.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nanoka…promise me one thing.”
She ignored my question. Instead, she faced me head on, gripping me by the shoulders. Seeing her straight-on, her eyes were a color I had never seen before.
“P-promise?” I repeated.
“A promise. Or, a request from me, anyway. Listen.”
“What’s going on, Minami-san?”
“Just listen. Just one thing. When you go home, you have to make up with your parents.”
I couldn’t understand the meaning of this request. I shook my head.
“Look,” she continued. “I understand how you feel. I’m sure you’re hurt, lonely. Knowing you, I’m sure you said something terrible. I know that you wanna stand your ground, that you can’t back down. You still gotta apologize today. Tell them, ‘I’m sorry.’”
“I-I don’t want to. That’s not—”
“You’ll regret it forever if you don’t!”
Her voice cut through me like the wind, and now I was trembling. I shivered, looked at Minami-san’s face, and shivered once more. She was angry. For some reason, I got the feeling that her anger wasn’t directed solely at me.
I was completely lost. Ignoring my distress, she kept talking, saying more things that I did not understand.
“I…regret it. I’ve always regretted it. Why didn’t I apologize back then? Now we can never even have a fight again. They can never get mad at me again. We can never…eat dinner together…again.”
“Minami-san…what are you saying?”
“I can never apologize to them. So, I’m begging you.”
A tear cut down Minami-san’s cheek. As far as I was aware, adults never cried simply to startle children. Perhaps she realized that she was crying, because she tried to conceal it—dabbing her eyes furiously with her sleeve.
“Listen,” she said. “Life is a story that you write yourself.”
Although she mimicked my usual words, I did not immediately understand. I tilted my head, asking what others usually asked me. “What do you mean?”
“With revisions and corrections, you can rewrite a happy ending with your own hand. Listen, I’m not saying that you should never have fights. I’m just saying that I wish I had known, back then, that making up is just as much a part of a fight as the fighting. But because you’re so clever, I’m sure you’ll understand. Your mother was just as sad as you were when she found out that she couldn’t attend your observation day. She was just as disappointed to learn that she couldn’t spend time with you. That’s why she worked so hard to make all your favorite foods, to be sure that she could eat dinner with you. And I’m sure you can understand why your father always makes sure to buy things that you really want for your birthday.”
I thought about what she’d said. About my mother, who would come home just to eat dinner with me before she went back out, even though she was not yet finished with work. My father, who traveled far away just to buy the plush toy that I really wanted, since none of the shops nearby had it. Hearing a warm send-off at my back as I left this morning, even though I had been too angry still to say a word, or eat any of the breakfast that had been made for me.
I remembered.
“I don’t want you to lose a chance to ever see them again without having made up, like I did,” she said.
At those words, I finally understood. I knew why she was crying.
“So promise me. It’s okay if you can’t do it today. Tomorrow’s fine. But you have to make up with them. You can’t turn back time.”
She pushed her bangs away and looked me straight in the eyes. It was the first time I saw her whole face. It was as clear as Skank-san’s, and as kind as Granny’s. It was beautiful.
I was not the sort of child to make light of a request from a friend. However, nor was I so thick-headed that I could banish all thoughts of last night that easily. And so I thought about it. I thought long, and I thought hard. I churned the gears of my tiny brain as hard as I could.
What was right? What was clever? What was kind?
And then, when I had thought it through, I looked Minami-san in the face, and nodded. “All right. I promise.”
The last tear fell from the corner of her eye. “Thank you.”
“But you have to promise me something too,” I said.
Now it was Minami’s turn to look curious. “You want me to put out a book?” she asked.
“Yes, that too. But it’s something else. I want you to promise me. You understand what happiness is, don’t you? But you also told me that you weren’t happy. I can’t stand for my friends not to be happy. So, please. Rewrite your story too.”
Seeing her cry, I remembered the handkerchief she had given me, and how I had prayed for her happiness. That my friends would always have a smile on their faces.
Minami-san was dumbfounded at my request. However, she grinned and nodded. “I promise. Yeah, it’s a promise.”
We put our little fingers together and curled them in a pinky swear, my golden-eyed friend watching over us. I’m sure that Miss Bobtail had no idea what was going on. Honestly, I still had no idea why Minami-san was so concerned about my mother. However, I did know why I needed to make up with her.
“See you later,” said Minami-san as my friend and I departed the rooftop.
Normally, she only waved at us, but today she watched us leave. I was so happy that I grinned back at her. Today, Minami and I had become better friends than ever. I was thrilled.
I rushed home more quickly than usual. I could tell by the blue car parked outside the building that my mother was already home. I bid my little friend farewell, and took one deep breath. Then, I rode the elevator to the tenth floor where we lived, walked down the hall, and stood before our door. I took another breath. I had to open up my heart. Sadness, loneliness, hurt, and all those other bad guys—I had to push them to the edges. Then, I told myself, I could stuff myself full of good feelings. Again and again, I thought of Minami-san’s face.
Once I was ready, I took several more breaths, then stopped with my lungs still full of air. Just like that, I unlocked the door, turned the knob, and let my voice ring out loud into the apartment, blowing all the air out from my chest.
“I’m home!”