This is a story I heard from Kyosuke.
I felt like I had been having a scary dream. I stopped the alarm clock by my pillow and tried to remember. The morning light filtering through the gap in the curtains was getting in the way of my thoughts. With a hazy head, I put a hard toothbrush in my mouth. I changed into my sailor-style uniform, put on my socks, and looked in the mirror. When I flashed a quick, forced smile at my reflection, my head finally started to clear up. And around that time, I realized I hadn't eaten breakfast yet. Oh well, I thought. I brushed off my mother's nagging to at least eat breakfast and left the house. It's breezy and cool today. The arrival of full-fledged summer seems a little further away. When I reached the main street, groups of office workers and middle/high school students were coming and going at their own paces. I joined that stream and walked down the morning road. The girls' high school I started attending this spring was basically chosen just because it was close. It happened to be a private school, which must have been quite a hassle for my parents. Walking with a thin, light bag in one hand for a little over ten minutes. I passed through the high school gates and stood in front of my shoe locker, only to realize now that I was hungry. Ah, I want to eat white bread spread thick with butter. Thinking about that, I opened the lid and found something unfamiliar inside besides my indoor shoes. It's a letter. It's sealed with a cute pink sticker. Anyway, I closed the lid just like that.
Without even needing to check my memories, this is a girls' high school. Which means that a letter with a pink sticker in a shoe locker must be "that kind" of thing. It was a reproduction of my gloomy junior high school days when I was more popular with girls than boys. No, since it wasn't co-ed anymore, the situation was even more serious. Feeling fed up, I opened the shoe locker again, pulled out the letter, and shoved it into my bag. As I put my index finger into the heel of my indoor shoe and braced my right hand against the shoe locker to balance on one leg, I suddenly felt someone's gaze. When I looked up, a female student was looking at me from the hallway. She was quite tall. Judging from her mature expression, I guessed she was a senior. Eh? Why is she looking at me? What if she's the one who sent the letter? I just shoved it into my bag all crumpled up. With a look in her eyes as if she saw right through my hesitation, she gave a slight smile and said in a whisper like a chirping bird: "You should avoid making enemies as much as possible." Then she spun around in her uniform and vanished from right in front of me. That was the very moment. An ear-piercing noise erupted in the surroundings, and several students brushed past me at a distance where our sleeves touched. Until just a moment ago, for some reason, I had been under the illusion that I was the only one standing in front of this shoe locker. However, up until a moment ago, the only two people in this space were me and that female student in the hallway. Even though such a thing should be impossible ten minutes before homeroom when everyone was bustling about, I hadn't questioned it at all. As if it were an event happening in a dream.
Laughter. Morning greetings. The sound of shoe lockers opening and closing. Among the countless sounds, there was no way a whispering voice from the hallway could have been heard. I stood there all alone in the commotion of the entranceway. "Chihiro~? What's wrong? Do you feel sick?" Recess that day. Yoko spoke to me, as I wore a gloomy expression. Her last name was Oku, but there was nothing modest or reserved about her. Since our desks were close, she was a girl who had approached me from the very first day of school as if we were old friends. At first, I was bewildered by her familiarity, but for someone like me who naturally struggled to make friends, it was a relief to quickly find someone to talk to in my new class life. "Hey, what's up?" She rested her chin on the back of her chair and rocked her body back and forth. The legs of the chair made a clacking sound to match. "It's noisy. Stop that." When I said that, she stopped the chair with a delighted look, saying, "Whoa. Someone's in a bad mood." "I'm starving." At the words that slipped out unconsciously, Yoko nodded. "I knew it. It's miserable to be a late-riser with low blood pressure even though you're a big eater." As I was about to say something like I wasn't actually oversleeping, I brought up a different thought that had just occurred to me. "Do you know a tall girl with short hair? I think she's probably a senior." As I said this, I described the slanted eyes and well-proportioned face I had seen at the entranceway this morning as accurately as possible. After thinking for a moment, Yoko said, "That sounds like Masaki-san, doesn't it?"
"Oh, is she famous?" "I don't think she's famous or anything. We're in the first year too, so I've seen her around. You know, from Class A." "Eh? We're the same age?" I was a little surprised. "What about that Masaki-san? Did she confess to you or something?" I was about to explain what happened this morning, but stopped. It was too much trouble. "But you know, Masaki-san is supposedly kind of creepy. I don't know the details, but she apparently casts curses and stuff." That gave me a start. When I used to do divination as a hobby back in junior high school, such rumors had been spread about me too. Deciding to lay low a bit in high school, I hadn't brought any hobbies to school so far. "Curses, huh." I looked around the classroom absentmindedly. At that moment, my eyes met with a girl sitting at a desk far away. Plain features and a petite body. Though their hairstyles were different, the two of them looked somewhat similar. They were huddled together, looking over at me. Yoko, noticing my gaze, looked over in that direction as well. After wearing a startled expression for a split second, the two of them fearfully lowered their eyes. What's that about? They're girls I've never even spoken to. Their names didn't even come to mind. They might be the least noticeable kids in the class. "Chihiro. Don't scare them," Yoko said playfully. "You look scary, you know."
Saying that, she poked at a tender spot in my heart. Having sharp eyes was just the way I was born, and I wasn't angry at all, but at times, good-natured girls were frightened of me. To my dismay, just being tall seemed to amplify that image even more. Yoko told me that the one wearing glasses was Izumi Shimazaki, and the one with a bandage on her cheek was Shiho Takano. By tomorrow, I'd probably forget at least one of them. "Such minor characters," Yoko laughed, in a voice loud enough that they might have even heard her.
Our 5th-period class suddenly became self-study, and I slipped out of the classroom at an appropriate time. A deserted corner behind the school building was my secret favorite spot. A faint breeze blew along the structure of the wall, swaying the tips of my hair. Looking up at a tiny patch of sky that looked like it had been cut out, I listened to the distant commotion of outdoor sports coming from somewhere. I like spending time like this. In a corner of a place where there are many people, there is a lonely space like an open hole. Because I can feel that way, I'm able to come every day to a suffocating place like school, and I feel like this kind of space is where I truly belong, filling my heart with contentment. As I lit my second cigarette, I sensed someone's presence around the corner of the wall. Panicking, I braced myself to drop it at my feet, but that someone appeared while making a carefree sound. "Ah, found the delinquent~" It was Yoko. Bad for my heart. "So this is where you disappear to sometimes. It's nice and quiet here. Ah, did I make you mad?" I wasn't angry, but I certainly felt a slight disappointment that the exclusive occupation of my secret spot had been broken. Yoko slid right up next to me and leaned her back against the wall.
"During lunch break, some fierce-looking senior came by, what was that about?" "Ah, that was..." A senior from the kendo club I used to be in during junior high was coming to recruit me to join in high school as well. I had turned her down several times, but she was quite persistent. "Why won't you join?" There was no particular reason. I still show up twice a week to the kendo dojo I started going to as a child just because my father told me to, and I just figured I didn't need to do it anymore at school. "Hmm. You should just do it. What a waste." Then the two of us chatted about nothing in particular. Time flowed slowly. The notebook left behind on my desk remained refreshingly pure and blank. Still, it didn't feel like a bad mood. A chime rang out from overhead, and I sighed as I straightened my body up. At that moment, Yoko said: "Hey, Chihiro. Do you know there's a rumor that you're a delinquent?" "Me?" I couldn't help but laugh. "No, I'm pretty serious. There are rumors that you hang out with guys from some delinquent high school, or that you're just acting quiet until summer vacation, stuff like that. Honestly, a lot of kids are scared of you." Hearing that said with a serious expression, I found myself staring at the cigarette in my hand. Whatever, it's too much trouble. Thinking that, I stamped out the cigarette butt. That day after school, as I placed my bag on my desk and got ready to leave, Yoko invited me to hang out.
"Want to go to karaoke again? My treat. What about the arcade? Oh, there's a cafe I've been curious about, want to go?" Her voice was loud enough for those around us to hear. Perhaps, in her own way, Yoko was trying to help me fit into the class. However, no one else voiced a desire to join. I chuckled and said, "Alright, alright. Let's go." "Yay. It's a date." To Yoko, who joked around saying things like that, I asked reprovingly: "Even so, how can you afford to go hang out so often? I'm not lending you money if yours runs out, you know?" "It's fine! You've gotta spend money while you're young." Yoko retorted teasingly. Looking closely, she casually spent money on her wristwatch and shoes. When I met her in casual clothes on the weekend, my own outfit felt shabby and made me feel self-conscious. I had never probed and asked about it, but her parents must be wealthy. Maybe her sense of values was a little detached from a commoner like me.
As we were leaving the classroom together, I felt a gaze wrapping around my spine. Reflexively turning around, I saw two girls trembling slightly as they looked at us. It was those two again. Izumi Shimazaki and Shiho Takano. The moment they wore stiff expressions, the two of them spun around and fled out the back door of the classroom as if running away. "What's with them? Bad vibes," Yoko said, furrowing her brow. It certainly gave off bad vibes. Weren't they acting genuinely scared of me? Remembering the rumors about me I had just heard earlier, I felt sick to my stomach. It was a week later that I heard the news that Izumi Shimazaki had attempted suicide.
By that time, I had completely forgotten the names of the two girls who had looked at me with frightened eyes, so my first reaction was, "Was there a girl like that?" Now that it was mentioned, the girl with glasses hadn't come to school for the past two or three days. According to what I heard, a female classmate who lived in her neighborhood happened to pass by yesterday and noticed an ambulance parked in front of her house. Judging from what she heard from a few local housewives who had already gathered around, Izumi Shimazaki, who had been staying home alone from school, had cut her wrists in the bathroom. Frightened by the flowing blood, she had apparently called an ambulance herself, and while her condition could be called minor, she was going to be hospitalized for the time being. Such talk had already spread throughout the class before homeroom. Everyone gossiped with morbid curiosity and a tiny bit of guilt about an incident that happened right in front of them. They must have had some awareness, to a greater or lesser degree, that they were involved in the "why" of it all. It wasn't as if she was openly bullied, but everyone knew what kind of position a child labeled as "plain" or "boring" held in the class. Shiho Takano, who always stuck together with her as if protecting each other, couldn't bear being looked at with curious eyes, or perhaps she was shocked by her friend's choice of attempting suicide. With a pale face during the first period, she asked for early dismissal and was granted it. As I watched her profile leave the classroom carrying her heavy-looking bag, I noticed that the bandage on her cheek had increased since a week ago. I hated participating in such unpleasant gossip myself, but I couldn't help being curious and asked Yoko. "Ah, Takano-san's bandage? Since she's in the volleyball club, I think... Well, she's apparently being worked pretty hard, or rather, picked on."
Hearing that, even Yoko seemed shocked by the news, lacking her usual brisk tone. As for me, I felt a sense of unearned guilt resting quietly on my shoulders. Why were those girls so afraid of me? It felt like a pitch-black cloud was hanging over my mind, making me feel uneasy. Maybe that was why. During the recess of the 3rd period, as I casually listened in on the whispers exchanged throughout the class, a certain word caught my strong interest. "Kyoko Masaki." That name jumped out among the countless words flying around with a distinct sense of abnormality. I couldn't help but go over to the group talking about it to hear the details. "Eh? So, the story is that Shimazaki-san used to hang around Masaki-san's place. Why? I don't really know. That person apparently does some kind of fortune-telling, so maybe she was going for advice on her troubles." I thanked them and returned to my seat. Kyoko Masaki. The girl who had spoken to me at the entranceway a week ago. Her words from back then spun around in my head. "You should avoid making enemies as much as possible." Perhaps that wasn't a warning directed at me for handling someone's unknown love letter roughly right in front of her. Wasn't it possible she knew something else and said that for another reason? Unable to stand it anymore, I stood up and left the classroom. Passing through the noisy hallway where clumps of sailor-suited students formed here and there, I headed for the classroom where Kyoko Masaki should be.
When I reached the front of the classroom, the door was wide open, so I peeked inside. Several girls noticed me and directed unreserved gazes my way. Since I knew nothing about this class, I had no idea where Kyoko Masaki usually sat. However, as far as I could scan the room, she didn't seem to be anywhere. Just as I felt a slight disappointment, I ran into a familiar face. When I called out "Ishikawa-san," she recognized me as well and came over to the door with a smile. "Chihiro-chan, what's wrong?" She was a girl from the same junior high school. We weren't particularly close, but I'll cling to any connection at a time like this. "Masaki-san is in this class, right?" Ishikawa-san's expression hardened for a split second. Then, lowering her voice, she said: "Yeah. But she left early just now." Tapped on the shoulder and guided along, I pressed myself into the corner of the hallway. The linoleum floor made squeaking sounds. "You know. It's about Izumi Shimazaki-san, right?" Though surprised, I nodded. Apparently, the rumor had flown as far as this distant classroom in a short amount of time. According to Ishikawa-san, Izumi Shimazaki really did come to see Kyoko Masaki from time to time. And at the very back desk of the classroom, they apparently used to talk about something or other. Not just her, but several other girls also frequented Kyoko Masaki's space as if adoring a queen. "Masaki-san, how should I put it, has these cold eyes that seem to see right through people's hearts. She's amazingly beautiful, so that makes it even more intimidating, I guess. Almost scary. Even when you talk to her, she sometimes says things that don't make sense. Everyone in the class sort of guards against her and keeps their distance." It was the same as my first impression. There was an atmosphere about her where you couldn't lower your guard.
"Just the other day, for instance, she and Shimazaki-san were sitting facing each other. They had some playing-card-like things lined up on the desk. In the shape of the kanji for 'earth', you know. It was creepy." What could that be? Was it some kind of fortune-telling that Kyoko Masaki frequently did? "What on earth was Shimazaki-san going there for?" Ishikawa-san shook her head and said, "I don't know." "Only, it seemed like Masaki-san said something at that time, and Shimazaki-san was crying." Because of that incident, Ishikawa-san apparently tried to probe Kyoko Masaki when she heard the news about Izumi Shimazaki's suicide attempt. "I wonder why Shimazaki-san tried to commit suicide? Doesn't Masaki-san know?" she asked her. "How did she answer?" Before I knew it, my tone had grown higher. "Well..." Twisting her head, Ishikawa-san said as if remembering. "If I recall, she said something like, 'It's the Olympic spirit.'" The Olympic spirit? I couldn't grasp the meaning right away. I see. People found her eerie precisely because she said such eccentric things. A voice shouting "Nanase~!" came from toward the door, and in response to that call, Ishikawa-san said, "Well, see you later," and went back into the classroom. Left behind, I stood there pondering for a while. Cards lined up in the shape of 'earth'. Izumi Shimazaki, who had attempted suicide, and Kyoko Masaki, whom she apparently adored. And the phrase 'Olympic spirit'.
Each piece flew around disconnectedly, and my thoughts wouldn't come together. The chime signaling the end of recess rang, and as if pushed from behind, I directed my steps back to my own classroom. When I returned to my seat, Yoko whispered, "Where were you?" "Hmm, just somewhere," I felt like there was no need to hide it, but I somehow evaded the question. Before even realizing it myself, I might have sensed some dangerous scent coming from this chain of events. At the teacher's voice shouting, "Oku! Where are you looking?", Yoko stuck out her tongue and went back to her posture for receiving the lesson.
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