Speaking of crime, now seems like a good time to print everything I need for the next couple of days off the internet. I successfully do so without downloading any viruses or whatever it is Bucho worries about. After clearing the browser history and shutting things down, I take out a few kids’ books as I stuff my face with two cinnamon rolls and the garlic buns. By the time I pick up my Treasury of Japanese Folktales and flip through “Momotaro” the sleepiness kicks in. I set my phone alarm to go off before my kinders might show up, then fold my arms on the bench and rest my head on them. I don’t even feel all that sleepy. Just bored.

Bucho’s lecturing fades. All of Zozo is quiet now, except for the hum of fluorescent lights. Time passes. A delicate arrhythmic ticking sound is audible through the wood of the bench. Something with several legs, crawling … getting closer. I lift up my head, let what I presume is a giant mukade crawl on by, and lower my head back down on my arms. On my shoulders, I feel cloth settling. Someone putting a jacket — I’m guessing my jacket — over me, like a small blanket. It feels nice.

“Thank you,” I yawn, opening one eye a little. There is someone sitting at the computer. She holds an abnormally long black cigarette holder between her fingers. She has the same face as Fumiko, with Mami’s hair colour, and Miyoko’s voice when she finally speaks, after staring at my face for a long time.

“You look unhappy, child. What is wrong?”

“Nothing. I just had the weirdest class with a student. And I have this snack bar to go to tonight. What should I do?”

“That sounds like fun. Where?”

“Osakako Station.”

“Oh. That is quite a trip. Well, if you want my advice —” she takes a long drag and exhales a cloud of blue in my face “— just go and be yourself.”

“What does that mean?”

She doesn’t answer. Outside the staff room we hear the ding of the elevator doors. It’s louder than normal, almost like a fire alarm. The mom’s head turns sharply toward the sound. She gasps. “A student is here. Get up, 獏.”

“What’d you call me?”

“I said, GET UP.”

I sit upright, eyes wide. The room is empty, except for me. No jacket over my shoulders, no other people. I almost believe I’m alone in Zozo until I hear Manager’s quiet whine and Bucho snapping at him. Just as I’m about to pick up my phone, the alarm goes off. It is exactly 2:40.