Ah – but maybe that’s right, she thought.

Masamune had said he was going back to school at the start of the third semester. It was Fuka who’d asked, When is the opening ceremony at school? What day should we go?

Kokoro had naively concluded that Masamune was going to school on the day of the opening ceremony, but he’d never actually said that he would go to it. With students trooping to and from the gym, it could get chaotic. If they were going to meet in the nurse’s office, an ordinary school day would surely be preferable.

See you tomorrow. At school.

The promise Masamune and Kokoro had made to each other.

‘Thank you for worrying about me. But I’d still like to go,’ she said.

THE NEXT MORNING, HER MOTHER set off for work as usual. Kokoro had told her she wanted her to.

Even so, her mother fussed about at the front door, checking on Kokoro several times, and though her usual time to leave came and went, she still lingered.

‘Don’t overdo it, OK? If you feel you can’t handle things, come home early,’ she said. ‘I’ll call you in the afternoon.’

‘OK.’

Her mother finally stepped through the front door.

‘I’ll be off in a minute then, Mum,’ Kokoro said, seeing her off with a wave. When she reached the gate, her mother turned around.

‘Your bicycle,’ she said. ‘Last night your father cleaned the seat for you. It was really quite dusty.’

‘Oh?’

‘He said he’d come home early today. He said to tell you not to overdo it.’

‘Um.’

Last night he’d said the same thing directly to her. He seemed quite anxious. But also a little relieved. ‘You’re an amazing kid,’ he told her. ‘To decide on your own to go back – I think you’re incredible.’

It hurt to think that she was only going in for a day, but hearing him praise her did make her happy.

And maybe …

Maybe seeing everyone today, she wouldn’t be so scared of going in the next day. She might be able to attend school properly, together with all of them.

She left home at nine, avoiding the window when other students usually arrived. She hadn’t ridden her bike for so long, and as she climbed on, the seat felt cold under her skirt. She breathed in the chilly air.

As she started to pedal, a thought struck her.

I’m not going into my class, she thought. I’m not going to school.

I’m going to see my friends.

It just happens that the place we’re meeting at is school.

THE ENTRANCE TO THE SCHOOL was deserted.

When she reached the bicycle parking area, she hesitated to leave her bike in the space reserved for her class, and instead parked it in the eighth graders’ area.