Rukana’s mother cut down on her hours at work and started spending more time at home. According to her father, her mother hadn’t been in the best of health lately. Her mother didn’t say anything to her, but Rukana had a feeling that she blamed her daughter, at least in a roundabout sort of way.
Even when there were walls between the two of them, Rukana couldn’t stand being around her mother. Just the thought that she was nearby was suffocating. Rukana already spent most of her nights wide awake, and now she couldn’t even sleep from morning till afternoon like she used to. Rukana blamed her mother, just as her mother blamed her.
Rukana decided to start spending her days in the school’s nurse’s office. When she proposed the idea to her father, he was ecstatic. He bought her a brand-new smartphone and negotiated with the school’s administrators to ensure she’d be allowed to bring her laptop with her. Breaking into a public school’s staff Wi-Fi network would be child’s play for her, so she could use the internet as much as she wanted.
The school nurse—a woman named Kirinuma—was rather cautious around Rukana at first, but after barely an hour of small talk, her attitude had already started to soften. She’d soon lowered her guard completely and begun talking to Rukana like they were old friends. She’d lived more than twice as long as Rukana, and yet she was so unguarded that she reminded Rukana of an infant.
Whenever Kirinuma left the nurse’s office, she would always leave her phone on her desk. Rukana had Cipher snoop around in it, and she soon had a solid grasp of Kirinuma’s private affairs. She managed to get her hands on a number of messages and images that would cause serious problems for the woman if Rukana made them public. Thus, if the need arose, she could always blackmail the school nurse. Rukana knew she’d be cooperative if and when the time came.
Rukana’s goal was to turn the nurse’s office into as comfortable an environment as possible for herself. She would never learn to love her middle school. She was fundamentally incompatible with the common, mediocre students populating it. If she stayed home, however, she’d have to be around her mother. Rukana didn’t despise her mother from the bottom of her heart or anything. She and Rukana were simply too different. Despite being mother and daughter, they had nothing at all in common, and that reality was difficult for Rukana to live with.
The best option for Rukana would be to live on her own, but she was still too young for that. She knew that, with Cipher on her side, she could make enough money to live on. But not only was she a minor, she was still only a first-year in middle school. No one would rent out an apartment to someone her age. Rukana didn’t want to live on the streets, and for the time being, sleeping at home was still preferable to staying at an internet café every night. Time after time, Rukana told herself that it wasn’t yet her moment to step into the spotlight.
Once, when Rukana was on her way home from school, she caught sight of a pair of students. One of them looked familiar—a slender girl with narrow shoulders and long hair. She walked with a distinctive gait, like she was pushing the ground with the whole sole of her shoe at once. It couldn’t be, thought Rukana.
“…Itoha?”
Rukana could hardly believe it. Itoha, of all people, was walking with another student—a girl with her hair tied up in little buns that reminded Rukana of dumplings. She was probably Itoha’s classmate. They weren’t simply walking together, either. They were talking. They were close together, as if they were friends, and the girl with dumpling hair was laughing from time to time.
Rukana hid behind a nearby telephone pole. The two of them were about ten meters ahead of her. There wasn’t much risk of them noticing her, but she’d rather be safe than sorry. If Itoha were to turn around for some reason, she would see Rukana—and that would be a disaster. A calamity. Utter humiliation.
Rukana peeked out from around the telephone pole. She thought they’d already be gone, but they were still nearby. They’d come to a stop and were still talking. Rukana couldn’t make out their voices, but she could see Itoha’s head tilt downward. She was laughing. About what?
Rukana wanted to leap out, grab Itoha’s long hair, and pull it as hard as she could. Itoha would probably struggle and scream. But it would be so satisfying to ignore all that and pull her around anyway. Rukana wouldn’t actually do that, of course. She could never.
Cipher had climbed up the telephone pole and was sitting above Rukana’s head, staring straight at her with its four eyes. Cipher didn’t make expressions—at least not in the way humans did. There was something like a mouth on its head, but it stayed perpetually closed. In fact, it had never opened it once. Cipher didn’t talk, but Rukana could still tell that it cared for her.
Rukana spun around and pressed her back against the telephone pole. Then she pulled out her smartphone and brought up the video for “Composition #1.” Even with the sound muted, she could hear the music in her mind as she watched it.
Gradually, Rukana regained her composure. What did Itoha Hiiragi matter to her? So she’d made a friend after starting middle school. Why should Rukana care? All that meant was that she was normal now.
✦ ✦ ✦
Itoha was normal now. An ordinary person like anyone else. Rukana wasn’t interested in ordinary people. She couldn’t have cared less about her anymore.