Chapter 5: Sakura (Make a Wish)

Chapter 5:
Sakura
(Make a Wish)

D ID THIS WORLD have a god? I didn’t know who to address these prayers to, but I hoped someone out there was listening.

I hadn’t watched that horoscope show in a while, and I thought of going back to it, only to find out it’d gone off the air at the end of March. One fewer signpost to guide me. I turned off the TV and sat cross-legged on my bed.

Since the start of April, I’d spent every single day praying to whatever was out there. Anxiety had settled over my stomach like a haze; sometimes I suddenly found myself sitting on my bed, staring blankly at the clock on the wall. Anytime I let my guard down, I felt myself slump over until my forehead touched the blanket, a groan building at the back of my throat.

Six of one, half a dozen of the other. No matter what my posture was like, the clock hands refused to budge.

It was the night of April 5, and spring break was officially over. Starting tomorrow, I would attend high school as a second-year student…which meant we’d all be reassigned to new classes with new seating arrangements. With a new class assignment came the possibility that Shimamura and I would be separated.

To me, this was a matter of life or death. What I wanted more than anything was to be special to her, and now I was in danger of losing one of few tenable connections to her I had. It was a massive setback.

After all, generally speaking, the friends you spent the most time with were the ones who already shared a class with you. Sure, there were exceptions—like club buddies or whatever—but for the most part, that same-classroom proximity was crucial . Not just in the physical sense, but in the emotional sense, too. Distance made bonds weaker…and considering that I couldn’t even get along with the people who lived in the same house as me, I clearly needed all the help I could get. That was why this mattered so much.

If we did end up in separate classrooms, chances were good Shimamura would never bother to come see me. She wouldn’t turn me away if I came to see her , but she wouldn’t take the initiative; she didn’t need me that badly. Not that she really needed anyone … But my point is, I could easily picture our friendship quickly becoming one-sided. Then I’d have even more trouble figuring out what to do.

On the day of the previous seating shuffle, my prayers had gone unanswered. I had pleaded dozens of times for them to put me near Shimamura, all for naught. At this point, I was starting to think there was no value in prayer at all… Yet, at the same time, I couldn’t think of anything else I could do. I wasn’t a god or a teacher—I was only human.

My only option was to offer up my prayers until the day of reckoning rolled around.

My back started to hurt from sitting up straight, so I found myself slumping forward. My forehead touched the blanket, and I closed my eyes. In the darkness, all I felt was the fabric against my skin.

I thought back to the entrance ceremony last year.

***

At first, I struggled to remember why I’d taken the entrance exam for this particular high school—what my motive was. But then I remembered that I didn’t have one to begin with. Based on my test scores, this was the school recommended to me, so I just went with it. After that, I studied to the point that I was reasonably confident I would pass the entrance exam. The next thing I knew, a month after I graduated junior high, I was suddenly a high-school student, just like that.

On the day of the entrance ceremony, as I recalled, the weather was just starting to warm up. A large crowd of new students were packed like sardines at the spot near the front entrance where the class listings were pinned. I hated having to cut through crowds, so instead I stood off to the side and waited until most of the students left.

Mind you, this was a long wait. Given the chill of the wind rushing between my bare legs, I had half a mind to say “screw it” and just go home. It wasn’t like there were any classes to attend, nor would my new principal say anything drastically different from my previous principal on the last day of junior high. The thought of listening to another speech had me bored to tears already.

But I wasn’t the only one avoiding the sardine situation. Another girl stood a few steps away, staring into space, keeping her distance from me and the rest of the crowd. Then our eyes met.

Looking back, that girl was Shimamura.

Of course, back then I had absolutely no interest in her, so I quickly averted my gaze. I didn’t want some rando staring at me. Looking back, though, I really wasted a golden opportunity then. If only I’d paid a little more attention to her that day, our friendship could’ve started so much sooner. But no—instead, I sidestepped away from her, and I wasn’t even subtle about it. Ugh. God.

But back then, I obviously had no way of knowing how I’d feel about her in the future, so to me she had been no more than a stranger. The longer I waited, the more irritated I’d felt…and this was only the start of my day. The thought had been enough to make me contemplate slipping away to the bike-parking area.

Then, as I waited quietly in the classroom, our homeroom teacher arrived and asked us to line up in the hall in alphabetical order by last name. As luck would (unfortunately) have it, I was at the very front of the girls’ line. That never happened to me back in middle school, which was great, because I really wasn’t the “leader” type. Alas, here in high school, there was no Abe-san to hide behind.

As I stood there against my will, our teacher casually went over our instructions. The line leaders needed to walk briskly, address the rest of the line, and do a whole bunch of other annoying stuff that I desperately didn’t want to have to do. I was tired of standing around, too. So, I told the teacher I needed to use the restroom real quick…but instead of going to the restroom, I walked out of the building and didn’t look back.

Once I’d made sure no teachers were nearby giving their students the grand tour, I went to the bike-parking area. There, I unlocked my bike, hopped on, and rode off. No one was there to stop and hassle me. The perfect crime.

I’d left my bookbag behind in the classroom, but there was no point in going back for it when I would have to bring it to the exact same location tomorrow anyway.

The wind had been against me on my way here, but now it pushed me along for a pleasant, easy ride.

I wasn’t used to having people bark orders at me, probably in part because my parents never really interacted with me. They barely even commented on my post-graduation plans. But our frosty relationship was partially my fault, too. And without an existing rapport, it was hard to resent them…or feel anything toward them at all.

This wasn’t some teenage rebellion against authority; I just honestly didn’t know how to handle it. It was too hard to figure out, so I gave up and ran away instead. Unfortunately, the trepidation lingered. Not even a deep breath was enough to clear the conflicted feelings out of my chest.

On my way home, I’d decided to stop by the park. It wasn’t like there was anything fun and exciting waiting for me at home, anyway. I figured I’d kill time until the guilt of skipping school faded.

In my neighborhood, nothing of note ever happened, so the cops didn’t even bother patrolling there. I didn’t have to worry about any truancy officers breathing down my neck. Thus, I felt comfortable parking my bike at the park entrance. I chose one of the comparatively cleaner benches and sat down. Given the time of day, the park was deserted, and I was alone. Resting my hands on the bench, I stretched my legs out and looked around at the rest of the park and the road next to it.

I knew that parks like these had existed back when I was a kid, but I had no memory of ever playing in one. So, how exactly had I spent my childhood? I’d never had any strong desire to go any specific place or do any specific activity.

In hindsight, I had a feeling that it all dated back to when I was really little…probably that time when my parents took me to the zoo. It had this souvenir shop with rows of plush toys based on the zoo animals, and I really wanted one, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask my parents. They were already irritated with me; whatever reaction they hoped to get out of me by showing me these animal exhibits, I’d failed to produce it, and they grew impatient with walking around. We left without any toys…and after that day, I learned to keep my desires to myself.

This sort of thing had happened again and again until I forgot how to want anything at all. That was how I lost interest in the world around me…and now I didn’t have a clear sense of self, either.

In my view, people like me were better off averting our eyes. That way we could skate through life without ever having to get our hopes up for something more.

At school the following day, everyone treated me like a delinquent—that is to say, they avoided me and didn’t speak to me.

But that had suited me just fine.

***

When I awoke, I could hear little birds chirping outside my window, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw light streaming through the gap in the curtains. Apparently, I fell asleep at some point… You would think I’d remember nodding off, yet I didn’t. To me, it was suddenly eight hours later, with nothing in between. That was perhaps the definition of unhealthy sleep.

Worse, I’d passed out while bent over facedown on my bed, so now my neck and back ached. Did it count as “restful sleep” if I somehow managed to stay in the same ridiculous position the whole night? Probably not.

After eight hours of pressing right up against my blanket, my forehead felt weirdly heavy. I pushed myself upright, and my joints creaked. My mind was all fuzzy. Then my arms gave out, and I collapsed back onto my side.

I had been worried that I’d be up all night with insomnia again, but evidently that was not the case. While this came partly as a relief, I was also terrified of—not to mention completely unprepared for—the day ahead of me. Not that I could’ve prepared much of a defense by staying up all night, I suppose. The outcome was already set in stone, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

Although, if I knew for a fact that my prayers would help at all, I guarantee that I would’ve put those eight hours to far-better use.

“School…”

Suddenly, my hazy, less-than-well-rested vision turned crystal clear. I needed to get up and get going. Apparently, the mere thought of school was all it took to wake me. As I hopped off my bed and stood idly in the center of my room, I picked up where my mind had left off last night.

Looking back at the past… Well, the not-too-distant past, but still… “I’m like a whole different person now.”

Reflecting on the way I’d acted a year ago, my past self felt like a stranger. I had gone from “Ugh, don’t look at me” to “PLEASE LOOK AT ME!”

Now that I was conscious of it, I kinda wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

When had I made the switch? What changed me? Thinking back, it was probably Shimamura. Meeting Shimamura, befriending Shimamura. God, how embarrassing. At the same time, I was touched. But how did Shimamura feel about my switcheroo? Disappointed? Deceived?

All my life, I’d simply gone with the flow and let the cards fall where they may. It was actually pretty easy to drift along without ever hitting a snag, and I liked it more than I thought I did. But now, after stumbling over every challenge I’d come across, I was lumpy all over—like konpeito candy.

Was that the right metaphor for my fateful encounter with Shimamura? Candy?

“Hmmm…”

Which was the real me: the old me, or the new me?

Nah, that’s stupid. Obviously, they were both the real me.

The “real me” was the person living and breathing right this very moment. Once upon a time, that person had been the old me. So, I wasn’t going to disavow the changes my past self had made.

After all, I liked the new me quite a bit.

***

In contrast to the bright, clear weather, my bike pedals felt like lead. Here in April, the sunshine was warm, but the wind was cold and dry. Evidently the spring season had yet to fully defrost.

I hadn’t ridden my bike since the end-of-year ceremony the previous month. In fact, now that I thought about it, I hadn’t left my house for basically the entire spring break, nor had I hung out with Shimamura. Would I get to see her today? If so…how was I meant to act around her?

As I approached the school building, my anxiety stomachache slowly intensified. The backs of my thighs twitched as if they were electrified. God, I’m so nervous. This was a thousand times worse than last year’s entrance ceremony.

My hands were so sweaty, they started to slip off the handlebars. Was it really that big a deal? My answer: yes. To me, this was a critical juncture.

“Ugh…”

Unfortunately, that answer didn’t solve the churning in my gut. I spent the first leg of the journey terrified to go to school, but by the second leg, I was dying to hurry up and get there already. As it turned out, I wasn’t the patient sort.

Right as my palms approached Niagara Falls territory, I finally reached the front gates. As with last year, a teacher was posted nearby to direct new students to the bike-parking area; I passed them and hopped off my bike, as I had all year long. This time, there were a ton more bikes in the rack, and I had a hell of a time finding a spot for myself.

Right as I finished locking my bike up, I suddenly realized I’d parked in the first-year section. Today, however, I was officially a second-year. For a moment I debated going through the hassle of moving my bike to the correct spot, but ultimately, I decided to pretend I hadn’t noticed. I had more important things to worry about.

The wind rustled the branches of the sakura trees, scattering their petals all over the place. Already I saw little green leaves sprouting. As I walked under the trees, however, I started to feel dizzy. Each step made my nausea grow.

As I progressed forward in spite of my failing health, a familiar scene soon appeared before me. A giant crowd of students gathered around the main school building’s front entrance, just like last year. Unlike last year, however, I didn’t have time to stand around and wait for the students to disperse. I plunged into the crowd like it was a roaring river, prepared to die.

I wasn’t confident that I could actually make my way through the crowd, so instead I just used my shoulder as a battering ram, pushing to the center. Now I was one of the sardines, packed in tightly from all sides. Nevertheless, I had a clear view of the classroom assignment list.

First, I looked for my name. The list was in alphabetical order, so I’d probably find myself near the top somewhere. As my eyes flicked back and forth, my heart pounded in time with each movement; I felt it throbbing all the way up to my neck, and my throat was tight.

After my gaze completed a full lap around the list, however, the blood slowly drained from my face. My eyes felt like they were going to fall out of their sockets.

“Nowhere?”

My name wasn’t on the list. Nor was Shimamura’s. My eyes widened. What’s going on?

After standing there grappling with this reality for a long moment, I struck upon an explanation: this was the list for new students . Of course Shimamura and I wouldn’t be on it.

I immediately turned around. I was already full of anxiety just being here, and this error was the final nail in the coffin. At last, the reality of being a second-year sank in.

So, there I was, blushing in the middle of a crowd like a total weirdo.

That said, getting out of the crowd proved to be a herculean task. Crouching slightly, I avoided eye contact as much as possible as I pushed past each person. Even after I was free, my vision’s edges were still blurred, and I felt ill.

Nevertheless, I somehow spotted a similar gathering of people on the school building’s opposite end. Clearly, that was where I was meant to go. My supporting evidence was the fact that I saw Hino and Nagafuji walking side by side away from the crowd. I could hear them chatting happily.

“I’m stuck with you again ? How many years in a row does that make this?”

“Ten, I think?”

Evidently, they were assigned to the same class. Lucky , I thought, watching them with envy as they disappeared into the school. Now it was time for my next challenge: another dip into the crowd.

Oh, I get it. The second-years are all a lot taller, I mused as I found myself practically buried in comparison. This time, I’d have to fight my way to the front if I wanted to see anything. Plus, people at the front were pushing in the opposite direction to get out of the crowd, which didn’t help matters. I swam through the sea of people, receiving the occasional elbow to the ribs for my trouble.

Today I wasn’t going with the flow—I was forging ahead of my own volition.

This time, when I scanned the piece of paper pinned to the wall, I successfully located my own name. Just as I expected, it was right near the top and highly conspicuous. Then my eyes drifted down the list. This was the final test that would make or break my whole day.

I felt my vision growing fuzzy with fear, but I snapped myself out of it and forced myself to look. My eyes drifted down…down…down. The crowd’s din faded out as my heartbeat grew louder and louder, reverberating in my ears. I could distinctly feel my blood pumping thickly in my veins. My nerves were at an all-time high, and my sight was blurring.

Let it be said that I was far from perfect. I didn’t see myself as someone who’d spent her life working hard and thus deserved to get what she wanted. I could go ahead and pray all day, but if those prayers were ultimately ignored, it was no one’s fault but my own. Regardless, my eyes refused to back down—they kept searching. Searching for the truth written right in front of them.

Did this world have a god? Was someone out there listening?

I stood up straight and prayed desperately to find that name.

***

I’m always late on Mondays, aren’t I? I thought as I passed through the school gates…though, admittedly, I didn’t actually feel guilty about it.

I walked in the direction of the distant chatter, only to catch myself at the last minute before I looked at the first-years’ class list by mistake. Whoops . I spotted the second-year group and headed over there instead.

“Oh…?”

I stopped short as I came face to face with a peculiar sight.

It was Adachi, leaping into the air with both arms raised in triumph, sakura petals falling all around her.