Now, we really acted like sisters at the Easter festival.
I had been chosen to be an Easter Bunny. (Supposedly this was Itsumi’s dad, the chairman’s, idea). When I went to the executive committee’s office to pick up the suit, I saw the head and the torso separated, lined up on the floor. With is severed head and its creepy, plastic blue eyes, the Easter Bunny—a symbol of life and glory—looked like it had been brutally murdered. It was terrifying.
And I didn’t expect the inside of the suit to be so hot and stuffy. I was super depressed and dreaded wearing it for the next few hours. I thought I had such bad luck. I put on the torso, another volunteer zipped me up in the back, and then I slipped on the head and gloves. I thought, Ughh, and I just painted my nails, too! Our school usually forbids manicures, but I’d painted mine with the Easter egg paint. We wouldn’t get scolded for using the leftover Easter egg paint, so everyone was doing it. But the stupid costume hid my pretty green nails. And my fake eyelashes were perfect, too, but of course the costume also covered that.
As I walked around in my Easter Bunny costume, I had to do this happy-looking dance. Children sometimes called me over, and I helped them look for eggs. The costume was terribly heavy. Even though my shoulders were stiff, I still waved my arms as much as I could, and lifted my legs and shook my waist.
“Oh my, is that Shiyo in there?” I heard a voice call. I couldn’t hear very clearly with all the mesh around my ears and didn’t know where the sound was coming from. I spun around and searched for the source.
“Right here.” Someone’s hands touched my fuzzy arm. Through the hole in the head piece, I could only see her school uniform.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Itsumi.”
“Aah, Itsumi. You knew it was me, even though we’re all wearing the same costume?”
“I knew right away!”
“How?”
“I mean, your dance is the worst,” she snickered loudly.
“Itsumi, that’s not nice. I’m sweating in here trying my best.”
“Are you hot?”
“Oh, extremely.”
“You poor thing. Here, come with me.” Itsumi hooked arms with me. She pretended to dance with me, her Easter Bunny friend, while leading me to the back of the gym.
“Nobody’s ever here,” she said. “So you can take off the costume and take a break.”
She really saved me back there. I took off my sweat-soaked gloves and tugged at the head piece. But it was stuck.
“Itsumi, it won’t come off!”
“Hnnh!” Itsumi tried pulling at the headpiece, but it caught on my jaw and wouldn’t budge.
“Owwww! That hurts!”
“Just bear with me. Okay, one more time.” She tugged so hard I thought my neck was going to come off.
“Oww, oww, that hurts. Itsumi, seriously, stop! If you don’t stop, I’ll never forgive you!” I shrieked in pain, and then I heard footsteps. Oh, no! If anyone found out I was shirking my Easter Bunny duties, Itsumi’s dad would definitely get mad at me.
“Itsumi,” I hissed, “what do we do?”
“You go escape from the other side. Don’t worry, I’ll distract them.”
“But—”
“Just go!” Itsumi pushed me from behind, and I scurried away. Guuhh, why did Itsumi’s stupid dad have this weird idea to get us in Easter Bunny costumes? I cursed at him under my breath. Back in the main festival grounds, I started to dance around a circle of kids with the other Easter Bunnies.
Whose footsteps had we heard anyway?
Behind the gym, I had totally panicked. But now that Itsumi’s gone, I look back on that incident fondly. I never thought that she would die just a few weeks later.
The Easter festival closed with the Eucharist.
We bid farewell to the parents and caretakers, tidied up, and held the Eucharist in the new church. Although the entire student body was present, only the students who’d been baptized could participate. They joined the priest under the cross and were handed bread and wine.
“You have been given the body of Christ.”
“Amen.”
“This is the blood that Christ shed for you.”
“Amen.”
I was one of the baptized students. I always feel solemn when I put the bread on my tongue and sip wine from the small chalice. This ritual depicts the Last Supper and has been practiced for over two thousand years, and I always take it very seriously. Even a high-schooler like me knows how important it is. Two thousand years seems like an eternity.
Every year, Itsumi read from the Bible for the Eucharist. But this year, Sayuri stood at the altar instead. I scanned the church, but Itsumi was nowhere to be found. I thought she might have gotten into trouble for letting me take a rest in the gym.
I started to worry and, right after the Eucharist ended, went looking for her. Finally, I found Itsumi in the salon, blankly staring out a window, standing there as if nothing had happened.
“Oh, Itsumi. I’m so glad you’re here,” I said.
“Oh no, did mass end already?” Itsumi turned and asked.
“Yeah. I didn’t see you there, so I got worried.”
“I’m just a little tired. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“Uhmm…was everything okay at the gym?”
“No problem at all. No one saw you.” Itsumi smiled. Her collar gaped slightly. She wore a red scarf over her neck.
“What’s with the scarf?” I asked.
“Oh, this? This goes to the top five winners of the egg hunt. They already announced the winners, so I grabbed one of these and took a little cat nap in the back of the gym.
“But actually, I’m wearing last year’s scarf. I put it on so I could give it to one of the kids that cry when they lose,” Itsumi said, sticking out her tongue mischievously, like a child.
“I’m glad that’s all it is.” The tension had left my shoulders. Just then, the door swung open and the members entered the room.
“Let’s keep this between you and me, okay?” whispered Itsumi, winking at me as she put her finger to her lips.
“Okay! I’ll keep it a secret!” I said gleefully. My voice was too loud, and she glared at me.
Our club’s Easter festival sales totaled 420,000 yen (as expected, we were sold out!). Even when we took out the 180,000 yen that went to ingredients and the 100,000 yen that the Literature Club retained for its exertions (though she had lived an easy life, Itsumi knew to claim what she deserved), we were still able to donate 140,000 yen to charity.
We all gave opinions on who we wanted to donate the profits to. The upperclassmen said it would be a good lesson for us to decide based off our own beliefs rather than on what the school tells us to do. So every year, we discuss our options, take a poll, and then donate the funds to the charity that wins the majority of votes. But this time, everyone wanted something different. Sonoko wanted to donate to underfunded hospitals, Mirei chose retirement homes, Itsumi suggested orphanages…
“I want to do something for children in need,” Itsumi said definitively. “There are many reasons why children don’t have parents. I want to make their lives easier. Just look at this picture.” Itsumi showed us a photo of an adorable baby. “Some babies are so unfortunate they can’t even meet their parents after they’re born.” Great, fat teardrops fell from her eyes.
Everyone was moved at Itsumi’s words and agreed with her: “Yes, yes, let’s donate to the orphanage.” My opinion of Itsumi improved even more. She was someone truly filled with love.