At school the next day, it was like Azusa was invisible. She had been totally cut off. In addition, insults were flung at her from all sides, just as had happened with Nayuta. Students who had been perfectly friendly just a day earlier had transformed as if by the flip of a switch and now mocked her to her face. “You’ve really been getting on my nerves lately!” said Kanako loudly, while Mizuki just stood by and watched.
Azusa was shocked by how much things had changed, but at the same time, she was prepared for it. She had watched Nayuta endure this treatment for a long while. How could I possibly whine about what I’m going through? Azusa thought. Alone in the classroom, she held her head high and endured. When she thought of Nayuta, her thumping heart would gradually calm down. And then a curious thing happened. Azusa noticed that the stomach pain that had been bothering her for so long had disappeared. I don’t think it will be back, she thought. I’m okay.
Summer holidays started, but there was no news of Nayuta. School was out, which was a plus, but she still had to deal with Mizuki and her followers at the juku, so her situation was basically unchanged. Mizuki had also spoken to her mother. “Azusa said she’s ending our friendship,” she had told her, so Michiyo was in a sour mood.
“Mizuki cried, you know! She said she always looked after you, and you betrayed her. And then you slip off behind her back to stuff yourself with snacks! How could you be so cruel?” her mother asked. Azusa had no idea how to explain the situation, so she said nothing, and her own home became an uncomfortable place for her. Even so, Azusa did the best she could, day by day.
She tried visiting Tenderness, not just on Tuesdays but also other days of the week, but she never managed to find Nayuta. She did run into the bearded man—his name was Tsugi, she learned—and Old Red, often enough that they began to greet each other in a friendly way. But it seemed neither of them had any recent news about Nayuta. How was she doing? Was she okay?
Azusa learned nothing about Nayuta’s situation until August, when she and her fellow students returned to their classroom for a midsummer school day.
“Due to family circumstances, Miss Taguchi has transferred to another school.”
The classroom had been buoyant, as if it were a floating island in the middle of the summer holidays, and merry voices rang out on all sides. But the words of their homeroom teacher, Professor Fukawa, introduced a note of gravity, and the class quieted down.
“Together with her mother, she had been working hard to care for her ailing father. He passed away not long ago, and the two of them have moved to Nagasaki, where her grandparents live.”
Fukawa had a daughter in elementary school. Perhaps he had a special feeling for the situation, because the rims of his eyes turned red as he continued.
“Miss Taguchi said she didn’t want to regret missing those moments with her father, so she took time off from school and focused all her efforts on helping him to cope with his illness. I told her I’d let the class know about her situation, so that you would all understand what she has been going through. She didn’t want to be pitied. It made her feel weak, she said.”
Nayuta had cut her hair because it got in the way when she was nursing her father. She insisted on wearing gym clothes for maximum freedom of movement when she was needed at the bedside. Fukawa quietly relayed all the things that he had kept to himself until that moment, occasionally wiping his face as he spoke. The students sat silently, heads lowered. Only Kanako, seated directly in front of Azusa, kept shifting in her seat, as if trying to make eye contact with Mizuki, who was seated some distance away.
Azusa felt as if she were far removed from her body sitting in the classroom, while at the same time, she had to work to hold back the urge to cry. Her thoughts turned to Nayuta, whom she would probably never see again. I’m so sorry, she thought. Sorry that instead of helping you, we only added to your pain. I wish I could see you and apologize in person, but I can’t even do that. It’s so sad.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Did you know?”
Azusa was heading home after dismissal when Mizuki and the others called after her. The group surrounded Azusa, their faces stern and suffocating. That reminds me, she thought somewhere in the back of her mind, I also want to apologize to Professor Kiriyama.
“What do you want?” Azusa asked.
“I’m asking if you knew all this about Taguchi. If you did, shouldn’t you have told us?” It wasn’t Mizuki but Kanako who voiced the complaint. “It makes us seem like we’re bad people, and there’s no way we’re going to allow that. What happened to Taguchi is sad and all, but we didn’t know the first thing about it, since nobody told us, and how could anyone expect us to guess?”
Azusa ignored Kanako, turning instead to Mizuki, who was standing next to her. Mizuki simply glared at her, saying nothing. Azusa accepted her look willingly.
“Mizuki, thank you for being such a good friend for so long. I had so many happy times thanks to you. But what you did this time was wrong. Whether you forgive me or not, there are things I had to do for Nayuta’s sake. With understanding and kindness—”
Before Azusa could finish her thought, Mizuki slapped her face again. At the sound of the impact, the corner of Kanako’s mouth twitched upward. Azusa kept her gaze fixed on Mizuki.
“You should try to break the habit of acting on your anger that way, when something bothers you. If you don’t, the day may come when someone responds in kind—with even more anger, or violence.”
Mizuki lifted her hand a second time but just barely managed to restrain herself. Her face contorted, and then, as Azusa watched, she slowly allowed the hand to fall.
“Okay, Mizuki,” she said, “see you.”
Azusa slipped between Mizuki and Kanako and was about to leave when Kanako caught her by the shoulder.
“Not so fast! We’re not done talking yet.”
“If you think making me out to be a bad person will wipe the slate clean for your own guilty conscience, then do as you like.”
Azusa shook off Kanako’s hand, then finally departed. As she walked off, she said quietly to herself, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Her heart was racing and her legs were shaking in a way she hoped nobody noticed. It felt as though if she let her guard down for even a second, she’d collapse on the spot. In truth, she was scared enough to cry. But she thought of Nayuta, and she endured. She had said what she needed to say.
“You can’t succeed if you don’t try,” Azusa said to herself, and then smiled. Probably Nayuta had done the same to get through her worst moments, one by one. If she can do it, then I’m not giving up, either.
She stepped out of the school building and looked up at the sky. Tall, cotton-candy clouds floated across a bright blue sky. Birds danced across it, looking just as if they were grazing on the candy clouds.
“I’d like to taste the blueberry parfait at Tenderness,” Azusa said, a sunny note creeping into her voice. Her mood was clearing, just like the sky above her.