It sounded as though Aki was just muttering to herself, but she probably didn’t mind that Kokoro had overheard.

BACK HOME, KOKORO MICROWAVED THE frozen gratin her mother had made, and mulled over how much she disliked these new developments.

She liked both Fuka and Aki, and it bothered her that things could get so stiff and awkward even in the castle.

Aki and Fuka might both stay away from the castle this afternoon, she thought, but when she arrived back after one o’clock, both girls were already in the dining room.

They seemed to be waiting for her. ‘Ureshino came by again, but I sent him packing,’ Aki said, laughing. ‘Let’s continue the birthday party. Here you go, a little something from me.’

Aki held out her palm with three hairclips.

The clips were fancy ones, made of wood, with the ceramic shapes of a watermelon, lemon and strawberry on the front. They were in a small transparent bag, tied with a blue checked ribbon.

‘I wrapped it with things we had at home, so it’s a little makeshift,’ Aki said, but to Kokoro’s eyes it didn’t look that way at all. It looked as pretty as something you’d buy in a shop and get gift wrapped. Fuka held it in her hands, gazing at the present.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It’s really lovely.’

‘I’m glad you like it,’ Aki smiled. ‘Happy birthday, Fuka,’ she said again.

THE NEXT MORNING, KOKORO FELT excited.

Alone in the house, now that her parents had finished breakfast and set off for work, Kokoro took a few deep breaths.

The shops opened at ten.

She’d go out and buy a birthday present for Fuka.

In the hushed, silent house, no one else was aware of what Kokoro was planning to do.

All she had to do was secretly slip out and slip back in.

She looked at herself in the mirror – not the shining one that led to the castle but the one by the front door – and took a deep breath. She contemplated wearing a hat, but decided that while an elementary school kid could get away with that, it would be uncool for a junior high student to be seen wearing one.

She put on a T-shirt and skirt, scrubbed her face twice, and combed her long hair until it shone.

With a racing heart, she pushed open the front door.

The summer sun shone straight into the dark hallway, and she squinted at its dazzle. The sun was high in the sky. Birds were out. And heat radiated through her shoes as she stepped on to the asphalt.

She was outside.

In a world she hadn’t set foot in for ages.

The air was fresh and invigorating, and she was relieved she didn’t find it overpowering at all. Cicadas chirped in the distance; people walked their dogs while children played.

Kokoro slipped quietly out of the gate.