A light spring rain was falling on the day of her funeral, and Akiko stood by her grave, blank and crying, and as she did, she looked at Mio’s little brother. Seeing him standing there, she could hardly breathe. Her heart fluttered as she recalled Mio’s voice, calling her Akiko-sensei. She understood how very precious her time with her had been.

What she wanted to become was, perhaps, a bit different from the usual public school teacher.

She wanted, as much as she could, to continue her connection with the alternative School. And to be the kind of person who could get close to all the children, to meet their own individual circumstances and needs.

She moved on from graduate school, got married, and changed her last name. As she worked with the alternative School a thought arose in her, before she even realized it.

Now it’s my turn.

Why she felt that way, she had no idea.

But from long ago she’d always had a scene etched in her heart. And a strong, sharp pain she felt in her arm.

The memory of someone yanking her, hard.

I was rescued.

There are children somewhere who, trembling, and at the risk of their own lives, pulled me by the arm and brought me back into this world.

It’s OK, Aki.

Grow up to be an adult.

I’m in the future, where you are too.

Children who said these words to me, kept me tethered to the world, gave me the chance to grow up.

Their faces weren’t clear, but somehow she always saw Mio’s image overlaid on them.

Why, she didn’t know. But this thought came to her, every time the stabbing pain in her arm returned.

Now I’d like to pull those children by the arm.

KOKORO ANZAI WALKS SLOWLY TOWARDS the room. Lips pale, eyes darting around uneasily.

When Aki sees the girl, she knows instantly. The time has finally come. Why, she can’t say.

It feels as if she’s been waiting a lifetime for this moment.

The familiar sharp pain in her arm comes back, as if it is being yanked hard.

What sort of trauma has this girl been exposed to? What sort of struggles has she faced? Akiko has no idea. But still her heart swells at the thought.

‘So Kokoro, I understand you’re a student at Yukishina No. 5 Junior High School?’

‘Yes.’

‘I went there too,’ Aki says.

I’ve been waiting for you, a voice says inside Aki. It’s OK, grow up to be an adult.

HANGING ON THE WALL OF the Free School, a small rectangular mirror reflects the young woman and the girl. A beam of sunlight catches its edge, and there is a tiny flash of rainbow colours. Hm? Aki thinks, and she has the feeling that in the mirror, sitting there, are she and the girl, as they used to be, back in junior high.