Aki’s voice sounded tearful, as if she were tired. She always put on a bold front, but even she was clearly feeling brittle. Her voice was pleading, but the Wolf Queen answered curtly.

‘Nothing really,’ she said. ‘I expect nothing. As I explained at the beginning, I’ve merely given you the castle and the right to search for the key that will grant you a wish. That’s all. Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ she added, her voice rising into the air.

And with that, she vanished. At that instant they heard a far-off howl.

It was a quarter to five. The howl was their signal to go home.

Kokoro remembered with a shiver, and for the first time in quite a while, the Wolf Queen’s warning that they would be eaten alive if they stayed after the curfew. She couldn’t believe it was true, yet she still felt a chill run up her spine.

DESPITE THE CURFEW, KOKORO AND the others wanted to stay on and talk. They all lived so close to each other. And they all were at the same school, knew the same school buildings and grounds and gym and bicycle parking area. How incredible that they were all so familiar with it!

Kokoro suddenly felt much closer to them. They probably all went to the same convenience store, shopped at the same supermarket, even at Careo. They were almost neighbours.

The clock was ticking towards five.

They wanted to say more, but instead they obediently trooped back to the line of mirrors. One thing in particular had been on Kokoro’s mind, and she turned to Ureshino as he was about to pass through his mirror.

‘Tell me,’ she began, ‘was the teacher who listened to you at the School called Ms Kitajima?’

Ureshino halted and blinked his eyes so slowly, she felt she could hear them moving.

‘The Free School. I was thinking you’d gone to the same place as me.’

‘Oh, yeah. Her name was Ms Kitajima.’

Ureshino looked as if a great tension in him had been released.

I thought so, Kokoro said to herself.

‘Was it the same teacher?’ Fuka asked. She must have overheard them. ‘That’s amazing. You really do live close.’

‘Yeah. She’s so pretty, Ms Kitajima.’

Kokoro said this casually, but Ureshino tilted his head. ‘Pretty?’

Kokoro had been vaguely thinking that Ureshino, with his inclination to fall in love, would have been aware of Ms Kitajima’s looks, but she found his reply a little unexpected.

She remembered the teacher’s hands when she’d offered Kokoro the teabags; slender fingers and neat nails. She’d worn a wonderful perfume, as well.

Did anyone else know Ms Kitajima and the Classroom for the Heart? Masamune had referred to it as a private support group, as if keeping his distance from it, so he might never have actually visited it.