If I Had To Give my mood a color as I donned my indoor shoes at the
elementary school lockers, it would be grey. Mostly because of all the
unpleasant people I'd run into that morning. At times like these, you'd
usually say that you were feeling blue, but I liked the color blue.
"Oh man, the weirdo's here!" a voice I did not recognize called from
inside.
I gave a theatrical sigh. "You all really must be stupid if you can't beat
a weirdo like me on tests. How fascinating."
Gratified by the looks of anger on the faces of several of my idiot
classmates, I refused to converse with them further. Eventually one of them
said something like: "Why're you such a baby?"
I wanted to praise them for being able to even speak intelligibly, but
they left, and so I put on my indoor shoes and went into the building.
Just then…
"Morning, Koyanagi-san."
A single voice put a halt to my grey-colored shuffling. I turned around
to see one of my classmates, and my expression turned dark.
"Oh! Morning, Ogiwara-kun."
"I just finished reading Tom Sawyer yesterday," he said. "It was really
good."
"Did you? That's great. Which scenes did you like?"
"The part about the paint, I guess. I thought Tom was really cool, too."
"Tom really is appealing. And smart."
"I liked Huck, too."
"Homeless Huck, right? Oh, come to think of it, I'm—"
I stopped. Not because I was trying to keep my talk with Granny to
myself, but because a boy came running up from behind Ogiwara-kun and
crashed into him. I turned my back on the startled Ogiwara, but I doubt he even saw it. The boy who had run into him was a close friend, and had most
certainly run into Ogiwara in the name of boyish roughhousing, not bullying.
No one would bully Ogiwara-kun, nor would he bully anyone. He had a lot of
friends.
I, on the other hand, had no friends in our class and elected to turn my
back on this. Other than Ogiwara, everyone else in our class either thought I
was clumsy or hated me. Still, I had never once been bullied by them. And
so, I decided to make my exit first, upon noticing Ogiwara's friend. A
friendship between boys isn't something a girl should get in the middle of.
I needed to stop at the library before I could head to the classroom. The
library opened first thing in the morning, which was wonderful for me. I
much preferred to spend the raucous period before Hitomi-sensei arrived in
the quiet library.
When I entered, I was greeted by the unique smell of the books and the
kind librarian. I asked the librarian if they had The Adventures of Huckleberry
Finn, which I'd heard about from Granny the day before. The librarian
guided me to a bookshelf and left me to seek out the book myself.
"If you're a lover of books, you'll want to enjoy the heart-pounding
feeling of searching for them," she said.
I felt the same way.
I quickly found the book in question and picked it up, my fingertips
tingling with excitement. I dropped my bag and took a nearby seat.
I'm sure that Ogiwara-kun and I were the only ones in our class who
understood the incomparable feeling of opening the first page of a book. It
would be wasted on the others.
All alone, I took the first tiny step into the tale of Homeless Huck.
The library was a wonderful place, with its quiet, its lovely smell, and
the kind librarian. However, even here, there was one line that one must not
cross: losing oneself too deeply in the world of books.
Until the librarian called out, I'd completely forgotten that I was still at
school. Just before the morning bell rang, the librarian called my name and,
after what seemed like ages, I returned to my own world. I borrowed the
book, stuffed it into my bag, and bid farewell for now.
I passed through the hallways, noisier now than when I arrived, and
climbed the stairs one by one to my third-floor classroom. Ignoring the boys
who ran through the hallways, I stepped inside. No one seemed to take notice
of me entering the room. As always, I marched straight to my seat in the very
last row. I put down my backpack and sat down.
Kiriyuu-kun, who sat beside me, noticed me and hurriedly shut the
notebook on his lap.
"Good morning, Kiriyuu-kun."
"G-good-good morning, Koyanagi-san."
He was talking quickly, the way he did when he was upset at being
teased. He shoved the closed notebook into his desk.
"What were you drawing?"
"N-nothing!"
He was lying. I always knew when Kiriyuu-kun was lying. He had
been drawing a picture. He was always doodling in his notebook. He perhaps
thought that he was doing a good job of hiding it, but I was his neighbor—I
saw everything.
He was really skilled at drawing, something that I thought he ought to
be crowing about to the people around him, but he never did, and the idiot
boys ridiculed him again and again for it.
"Kiriyuu-kun, life is like a cavity."
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"If you don't like it, you should hurry up and do something about it. If
people are making fun of you for drawing, then you should just spit it back in
their faces," I said, putting my backpack onto the shelf behind me and taking
my seat once more.
"I-I can't do that," Kiriyuu said quietly, not looking my way.
"Not with that weak attitude you can't," I said, just as the bell rang.
Hitomi-sensei entered the classroom. Everyone loved Hitomi-sensei—
the only time the atmosphere seemed clear and bright was when she was
there.
"Good morning!"
"Goood mooorniiing!"
At the direction of Ogiwara, the class representative, we began another
boring day of school.
First period was math, second was social studies, and then in third
period we had the lesson about happiness that Hitomi-sensei had mentioned
to me. I wanted to proudly announce that I'd known about it since yesterday,
but I had been sworn to secrecy. I mentioned neither the lesson nor the
chocolate.
The fifty-minute class passed quickly, reading the story in our textbook
and thinking about the main character's feelings. There was no time to think
about happiness. Then Hitomi-sensei announced that fourth period would be
an extension of the third. I very much approved of this idea, and thought that
fifty minutes was not nearly enough.
In fourth period, we had to come up with various notions of happiness.
We were split into pairs, and had to exchange what we thought of as our own
happiness.
I was paired with my neighbor, Kiriyuu-kun. Kiriyuu was rarely one to
talk unprompted, so I had to lead the conversation.
"Yesterday, I was eating a cookie with ice cream on top. I felt happy
then."
"Huh."
"Did you have anything like that?"
"Well, umm, the ohagi that my grandma made were really good."
"Sweets that grandmas make are always super tasty!"
"Yeah. I like the ones my mom makes too, though. They're different
from Grandma's."
"Your mom makes sweets too? That's nice. My mom doesn't get home
until nighttime."
The two of us continued discussing like this, jotting things down in our
notebooks. We were on task, and when Hitomi-sensei made the rounds to
check in she gave us praise, but there was one thing that still bothered me. No matter how much we discussed the topic, even when I mentioned books,
Kiriyuu-kun never said anything about drawing. I thought this was strange, so
I asked.
"Aren't you happy when you're drawing?"
"Uh, m-maybe? I…do like it."
"Then that's one thing that makes you happy."
"B-but whenever I d-draw…people make fun of me…"
"That doesn't matter!"
My voice was louder than I intended. Kiriyuu-kun seemed shocked, but
so did everyone else in the room. I was surprised at myself, too.
"Sorry, I just got excited!" I told Hitomi-sensei, who was looking my
way.
"Try not to startle everyone," she replied gently, and although everyone
was muttering, calm returned.
I turned back to Kiriyuu. "Stuff like that doesn't matter."
I jotted down "drawing wonderful pictures" on my page. Kiriyuu-kun
hung his head, silent.
As fourth period ended and lunch subsequently wrapped up, I spent the
rest of my midday break in the library. It was noisier now than it was in the
morning, but it was still quieter than the classroom, and I was able to bury
myself in the adventures of Homeless Huck.
After break was clean-up time, so when the bell rang, I returned to the
classroom and grabbed a broom. Kiriyuu-kun, being in the same group, had
also returned ahead of time to start cleaning.
As we diligently cleaned the room, that idiot boy from before returned
from the gymnasium, spouting some stupid nonsense.
"You two are super creepy, always drawin' your pictures and readin'
all those books."
"The only creepy thing here is your face," I replied dutifully. "Did you
know that?"
I flashed a look at Kiriyuu to see if he would reply as well, but naturally he did not.
Fifth and sixth period ended. As it came time for afternoon
announcements, I let out a sigh of relief, releasing all the anticipation I had
been holding in. We gave our farewells to Hitomi-sensei, and then it was
over…or so I thought. But there was still one important announcement for us.
"The week after next we'll be having a class visit. All of your mothers
and fathers have already been informed about this, but this will be an
important chance for them to see what you're normally like at school, so
make sure you give them handout I'm passing around, okay? Please promise
me that, everyone."
"Yes, ma'am," we chorused, passing the handouts back from the front
row.
I read the contents of the sheet, then happily slipped it into my bag. I
loved these observation days. It was a chance for my mother and father to see
just how clever I was.
Without being called to stay behind today, I went home alone as I
usually did. I put my backpack in my room as always, and started to head
back out when I remembered something important. I returned to my room
and pulled out the handout, placing it on the living room table before I set out
again.
Outside the building, as always, my bob-tailed friend was waiting for
me.
"Meow!" she cried in greeting.
We both set out towards the great rolling river. As we climbed the
bank, a breeze blew pleasantly through my hair and rippled across her short
tail. Feeling wonderful, we both began to sing. Before long, our voices still
ringing, we arrived at the cream-colored apartment building, where we stood
at the usual door and rang the bell. The first time, we heard nothing. The door
did not open the second time, either. Miss Bobtail mewled at my feet as I
rang a third time, but no reply came.
"I guess she must be out today."
"Meow."
Skank-san was a busy woman, so she was frequently out of the house. Letting the wind wash away our disappointment, we gave up and decided to
return by a different path. Obviously, we weren't going home yet. We had a
usual appointment after Skank-san's place.
We walked along while singing, passing between houses both big and
small. Soon we passed by the building where I lived, before heading along
the usual path to the hills that rose behind it. I greeted the locals we passed
along the way, but my standoffish friend merely waved her tail back and
forth, coolly averting her gaze.
"Never mind just humans," I said. "You're going to end up despised in
the world of cats that way."
She continued to walk ahead of me, as though she had not heard me,
arriving at the foot of the hill and steadily beginning the climb through the
trees. Finally we reached the usual clearing, with its house made of wood,
and rushed to knock on the door.
The first time we knocked, there was no response.
We knocked several more times, tried the knob, and circled the house's
perimeter, but it seemed that Granny was not home. I sat down in the
greenery of that empty space and crossed my short arms.
"It's weird for both Skank-san and Granny to be out."
"Meow meow," Miss Bobtail replied, forlorn that she had yet to
receive a meal.
"Now you can't just sulk about it. Life is like a school lunch."
"Meow."
"You've still got to enjoy it as much as you can, even when they don't
have the things you like. You get it?"
She did not appear to get it, but we descended the hill together anyway.
Maybe we will run into Granny on her return, I thought, but we arrived at the
park at the bottom of the hill without any such luck. In the park, children
younger than me were running around, their mothers watching over them.
Now then, what could be going on? I wondered. Miss Bobtail rolled
around at my feet, perhaps distraught that all her hopes had been betrayed.
I set the gears of my sharp mind turning. Then I remembered something.
"There's a fork in the road on the way to Granny's house."
"Meow."
"Now that I think about it, there's still a way we haven't gone. Let's try
going that way."
Miss Bobtail was still flopped on her side on the ground. I nudged her
with my toe. She stood somewhat reluctantly, let out a big yawn, and we
began climbing the hill again.
I followed behind her, sweat dotting my forehead. Finally, we arrived
at the fork. We always went right from here but today, for the first time, I
decided to try left. This path sprawled to a gentle rise. Perhaps pepped up by
the chance for some exercise, Miss Bobtail sprang along ahead of me. Cats
are such easygoing creatures.
Five minutes later, with the smell of the trees growing stronger bit by
bit, the broken iron gate appeared. The gate, which appeared as if by magic,
was open just a few centimeters.
As I reached out to touch it, the gate swung slowly open, crying out in
a hoarse voice. I hesitated for just a moment, but I looked Miss Bobtail in the
eye, thinking how far we had already come, and decided to proceed. I already
had plenty of practice looking up and sticking out my tongue for forgiveness,
just in case anyone got mad at us.
Beyond the gate were clean-cut stone steps, unlike the rough path we
had climbed. We went up carefully, but eventually the stairs ran out and
opened up into something like a clearing, strewn with gravel.
I was surprised to see it, and drank in a breath of this new air. I have no
idea whether the little one at my feet was surprised as well.
"Meow," she said, as she always did.
"I had no idea there was something like this up here."
At the end of the path opposite from Granny's house was something
that was the complete opposite: a building that looked like a square stone
box. Looking at the window-like holes along the walls, I thought the building
had two stories, but I didn't have the slightest clue what it was. There were
no patterns or lettering anywhere. It looked very much just like a plain stone box. It had none of the warmth of Granny's big wooden house.
As I drew closer, I found there wasn't even a door in the place where
the entrance should have been. Puzzling over this for a moment, I slipped
timidly in through one of the gaping holes. Miss Bobtail swallowed her
nerves and casually entered the building. I entered behind her. Don't tell
anyone, but I was actually a bit afraid.
First we looked around the ground level, but there were nothing
resembling rooms. The floor was a solid plane, utterly empty. There was not
the slightest hint that anyone might be there. The only thing even marking
this box as a building was the staircase that sat smack in the middle. With
nowhere else to go, we mustered our courage and slowly climbed the stairs.
The second floor was empty as well. It appeared as though the square
holes really had been windows once, as there were shards of glass still
hanging from them here and there. Obviously, I did not touch them—that
would be dangerous.
Ah, nothing left in this building, I thought, looking around the second
floor.
Don't tell anyone, but it really was frightening. I wanted nothing more
than to hurry back outside. But then we discovered another set of stairs,
leading up. Looking up, I could tell it led to the roof, seeing the open sky
above. I locked eyes with the little one at my feet and we decided to climb.
Step by step we climbed the stairs, leaving footprints behind in the
dust. When we poked our heads out onto the rooftop, I was greeted first by
rays of sun, and the wind brushing my face. And then I locked eyes with a
young woman sitting huddled on the ground with a box cutter pressed to her
wrist.
That day, shocked to my core, I understood for the first time what
people meant when they say that time stopped. And then, an instant later,
time was racing.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!"
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!!!"
"Meow!"
And that was how I met Minami-san.