‘I spoke to Mr Ida a few minutes ago,’ Ms Kitajima was saying. ‘The letter doesn’t really address what went on.’ Her tone sounded unusually stern.

Kokoro kept her face covered with her forearm. The tears felt hot on her sleeve. ‘I’m sorry,’ Ms Kitajima said.

Kokoro had never expected a teacher to apologize.

‘Ms Kitajima … Moé Tojo … was there … a little while ago.’ Her convulsive breathing made the words come out in fits and starts. ‘She was … at the school entrance … and saw me … and she … blanked me. She didn’t say a thing. She used to bring letters from school to my house every day, but when she actually sees me, she ignores me.’

Kokoro wasn’t sure what she was trying to say.

But she was sad. So terribly, terribly sad, and her chest felt like it was going to burst apart.

Kokoro almost shouted: ‘Ms Kitajima, if it was Moé who put that letter in my cubbyhole, what should I do? If Miori asked her to, and Moé did as she was told?’

As she spoke, she understood what she was really afraid of, what she hated here.

Last April, when the kids had surrounded her house, Kokoro hadn’t been able to verify if Moé had been among them. She might have been. But the very thought was too painful, and she wanted to cling to the possibility that Moé had not been there.

She couldn’t bear the thought that Moé had turned into an enemy. She hadn’t been willing to think Moé hated her. Until today.

‘Kokoro-chan …’

Ms Kitajima clutched Kokoro’s arm so hard she let out a little cry. Then she brought her face right up close.

‘It’s OK.’

Ms Kitajima’s grip on her arm was so firm, Kokoro felt encouraged.

‘It’s OK. Mr Ida told Sanada-san to put the note in your cubbyhole. Tojo-san had nothing to do with it. I mean, Tojo-san was the one who explained to me what’s been going on.’

Kokoro had been sure that none of the kids who hung out with Miori would ever dare betray their ringleader.

But if it was Tojo-san, then—

‘She bumped into you so suddenly, so perhaps she was too surprised to speak. But believe me. Tojo-san is worried about you. Truly worried about you.’

But why? Kokoro couldn’t help still wondering.

If she was that worried, then why look the other way?

But at the same time, a part of her felt like she already knew the reason.

Because she felt guilty.

Tojo-san must have been among the kids who’d surrounded her house, after all. She was there, yet she didn’t try to stop them. And now she felt extremely bad about it. The possibility made Kokoro feel she could breathe, a little.

‘Kokoro-chan,’ Ms Kitajima said. Kokoro had stopped crying. ‘There’s no need for you to fight.’

The words sounded like a foreign language.