The Blue Above

屋上の青は  まだ名前を持たない

Watanabe Kaho

There is a door on the rooftop that will not open. Haruka keeps returning to it anyway — because on the other side is everything she has not yet been able to leave behind.開かない扉がある。それでも遥は戻り続ける。扉の向こうに、まだ手放せないものがあるから。

屋上の青は  まだ名前を持たない

目次

登場人物

根本遥（ねもと・はるか）高校一年生
上原然（うえはら・ぜん）高校一年生  ※本文中では視認性のため「ゼン」と表記
宮野（みやの）社会科教員
中条（なかじょう）養護教員
隼斗（はやと）遥の兄
新田（にった）教員
佐藤（さとう）教員

著作権・利用規約

第一章  出会ってはいけない場所で

雨上がりの朝日は一際まぶしい。薄曇りからこぼれる光が、街の静けさを押し広げていた。線路に残る雨粒を巻き上げながら、電車が駅に滑り込む。車内は窮屈で、胸の奥がじんと重くなった。
遥は目を閉じる。
セーラー服のふたりが、学校の屋上で青い広がりを見上げていた。
「見て、空、青い！」
あの子が叫ぶ。遠くの白い筋を指さして。緋色のスカーフが風に揺れて、あの子が笑いかける。その笑い声は、もう聞こえないはずなのに。遥は、彼女の笑顔から目を逸らした。
人ごみの奥で、うつむいた顔を上げた。車窓の向こう、灰色の広がりが流れていく。 期待のかけらを探すけれど、どこにも見つからなかった。
ドアが開いて電車から降りると、じめじめとした風が頬を撫でた。残暑のせいで朝から蒸し暑く、湿った空気が靴にまとわりつくようで足が重たい。歩道の水たまりに映る街並みが波打って、静かにほどけていった。

教室に入って、誰かと挨拶を交わすことはない。入学したばかりのころは女の子たちに声をかけられたが、それとなく断っているうちに、遥のそばには人が寄ってこなくなった。
「この問題、根本さん」
授業中、頭が沈みがちで、しばしば教員に当てられる。名字を呼ばれると、まるで自分のことではないような気がしてしまう。ちぐはぐな思いを抱えたまま席を立つ。方程式をうつろに眺めて、チョークを走らせた。
「よし、そうだな」
成績を落とすつもりはなかった。予習復習は家に帰ってから、毎晩欠かさない。前回の期末試験は学年五位だった。
「根本さんって、いい大学を目指してるの？」
そう尋ねられると、クラスメイトたちが遠く感じられた。現実的な進路のためではなく、今の自分にできることが学業しかないからだった。まじめに勉強していれば、きっと神様は見ていてくれて、願いを叶えてくれるかもしれないから……なんて、とてもじゃないけど言えない。笑ってごまかそうとしても、笑顔の作り方さえ忘れてしまった。

遥は放課後になると、取り憑かれたようにあの場所を目指す。校舎の北側、「立ち入り禁止」の看板が設置された階段を上がっていく。誰にも気づかれないように。一段、また一段と上履きの底は冷たい床を踏みしめた。
備品置き場になっている階段の踊り場までたどり着き、最後の折り返し地点から見上げると、その先に扉があった。固く閉ざされたドアノブを回し、押しても引いても動かない扉に寄りかかる。汚れた窓ガラスがひとつあり、長方形のすりガラスの向こうには屋上の景色がモザイク画のように広がっていた。
今日も遥は指先に力を込めて扉を押した。けれども、そのがらんとした空気から「あきらめなさい」と告げられているような気分になり、座り込む。リュックを前に抱えて背中を扉にもたせかけた。この踊り場は居心地がよかった。ホコリっぽいが、喧騒から離れていて小さなスペースは避難所のようだ。
その時、かすかに口笛のような音が聞こえた。音はすぐに止み、また聞こえ、そしてまた止まった。繰り返しヒューという異音が耳に伝わってくる。扉と壁の間の数ミリの隙間に片目を据えたが、何も見えない。ただ、そのわずかな隙間が風の通り道になっていることに気がついた。
ゆっくりと立ち上がり、ドアノブを観察してみた。ヘアピンの先を鍵穴に差し込んで解錠する方法をドラマで観たことがある。ヘアピンではないが、大きなゼムクリップを持っていたことを思い出してリュックの中を探った。ペンケースから、消しゴムのカスにまみれたクリップを取り出し、力ずくでぐにゃりと変形させた。先端のとがった部分をシリンダーの中心にそっと差し込もうと試みる。ところが、クリップの先は直径が大きすぎて入らない。それにたとえ入ったとしても、小手先だけの即席ピッキングで開くはずもないだろう。
どうにもできない現実が、ドアノブに触れた手を下ろさせた。うしろを向いた瞬間、目の前の光景に息を呑む。その瞬間、屋上の扉は閉まったままのはずなのに、柔らかな風が起こった。ふわりと、静かで澄んだ空気が舞う。

階段を数メートル降りたところに、肩にスクールバッグをかけた男子生徒が立っていた。黒く長い前髪、その隙間からのぞく切れ長の目。高い鼻梁で整った輪郭。けれど、その凛とした顔立ちには、そこはかとなく近寄りがたいものがあった。
心臓が、ドクンとひとつ跳ねた。見られているだけなのに、体温がじわりと上がっていく。どうしたらよいかわからず、一歩も動けない。その男子生徒にとっても、予期せぬ出会いだったのだろう。彼は、まるで時間が止まったかのように、遥を見つめたまま動かない。
先に動いたのは、遥だった。勢いよくリュックサックをつかんで駆け出す。すれ違いざまに、彼は身をかわした。変形したクリップが置き去りになる。扉の前に落としたことにかまっている余裕なんてなかった。
全速力で走ったのはいつ以来だろう。校舎の五階から一階まで走り抜けた遥は、異常な早さの心拍数に息があがっていた。さっきの生徒は自分と同じ一年生だ。上履きの色が青だったから。校内では学年によって上履きとジャージの色が分けられている。今年は一年生が青、二年生が赤、三年生が緑だ。あの男子生徒はいつからあそこにいたのだろう。足音にも気が付かなかったので、ピッキングに夢中だったことを悔やんだ。

「あれ、根本さん？」
背後から肩越しに声をかけられて、びくついて身をひるがえした。社会科の男性教員、宮野だった。
「ずいぶん息を切らしていますが。走ってきたんですか？」
自動販売機で水を買ってきたらしく、宮野は手にミネラルウォーターを持っていた。彼は胸を上下させている遥の様子を静かにうかがっている。
「これ、よかったらどうぞ。まだ開けてないので」
宮野はペットボトルを差し出した。特にのどが渇いているわけではない。受け取るべきか遥が思いあぐねていると、宮野はわずかに目を細めて顔を傾けた。それは笑みのたぐいではなく、遥の顔色の悪さをさりげなく探るような仕草だった。
宮野は歩み寄ってきてペットボトルをぐっと近づける。強引な所作ではなかったが、つまるところ、これを受け取れという押しつけのようなものだった。遠慮がちにゆっくりと遥の手は動き、両手でペットボトルを支えた。
「まだ暑いから、水分をとって」
そう言い残し背中を向けて去ってゆく。声をかけられてからの数分間、宮野は一度も笑わなかった。世界史の授業を受けているが、ほとんど笑ったところを見たことがない。
政治経済担当の矢部はいつも目尻を下げ、寒いギャグを連発することもあるが、同じ社会科の教員でもかなりの温度差がある。もっとも、矢部と宮野では親子ほど年齢が離れている。その宮野は、若さのわりに活気がなく、悪く言えばどこか冷たい目つきをしていた。けれども無愛想というには早合点で、生徒から挨拶されたり話しかけられたりすると穏やかな表情で口を開く。
そういえば、クラスのなかには「宮野先生はミステリアスでかっこいい」と浮き足だっている女の子たちがいた。遥は彼女たちの態度に不満がないわけではない。宮野のような物静かな男子を陰気くさいと見下しているのだから。
二言三言とはいえ、授業外では初めての会話だった。宮野はつかみどころのない人物だ。彼は感情に対してどこか禁欲的に見える。
もらったペットボトルのひんやりとした表面が手のひらの温度を下げてゆく。にぎりしめたボトルがへこんだ。リュックサックを前に背負い、ファスナーを開けてペットボトルをしまった。スマホを取り出した。電源を入れると、兄の隼斗から着信が七件も入っていた。一通のメッセージを目にして胸騒ぎが押し寄せた。
『母さんが倒れた。今、病院にいる。これ見たらすぐ電話しろ』
見なかったことにできるなら。逃げ出したい。けれど何から逃げたらいいのかわからない。足の裏がじんわりと沈んでいくのがわかった。砂時計を流れ落ちる砂のように。自分の心も砂のように粒子になり、カタチを保てなくなっている。いっそ散って、風とともにどこかへ飛んでいってしまいたかった。

『母さん、ストレスが原因でかなり体が弱ってる。三日間入院することになった』
入院と聞いて遥はうろたえた。隼斗は心配するなとなだめるが、電話越しの声は荒々しかった。『これも親父のせいだ』と息巻いている。
隼斗は高校生のころから両親との関係がピリピリしていた。特に父とはしょっちゅう衝突していた。中学時代から野球部に所属し、高校では一年からレギュラーだった。甲子園を夢見る野球少年だったが、二年の春に右ひざを故障してからは部活を休みがちに。結局、三年になるまえに退部してしまった。それからは髪をブリーチしたり、夜遊びに出かけたり、学校をサボっていた時期もある。乱れた生活は大学受験を経て落ち着きを取り戻したが、あいかわらず口数は少なく、父との仲も殺伐としてまともに会話しなくなった。

通話を切ると遥は病院に向かった。隼斗は普段通りに帰宅するよう言ったが、母の様子が心配でまっすぐ帰る気にはなれない。
病院前のバス停で下車し、ロビーに入ると左右を見渡した。受付付近に立つスタッフと目が合う。すぐに顔をそむけ、スマホに顔を向ける。母のいる病室に一人でたどり着けないとわかり、メッセージを打った。
数分待つと隼斗が見つけてくれた。総合病院を訪れたのは初めてだが、そこは「広い保健室」と形容できるような単純な風景ではないことを知る。廊下で医療スタッフとおぼしき人とすれ違うさい、表情が引き締まった。口を引き結んで、背筋がまっすぐになる。なんとなく、自分が困っている人のように見えたら良くない気がした。エレベーターを降り、進んだ通路で隼斗は足を止めた。
「ここね。奥の右側のベッド」
そう告げると、近くの壁に背中をあずけて遥に質問する。
「おまえ時々、親父と会ってんだろ？」
奥歯にぐっと力がかかった。壁の向こうにいる母には聞こえないだろうが、声が尻すぼみになる。
「……たまに。LINEはほぼ毎日くる」
「ブロックしとけよ。もう会うな」
隼斗は理解できないと言いたげなしかめ面を浮かべた。壁に寄りかかりながら腕を組み、遥の顔を見ずに話題をそらす。
「今夜、家で一人だろ？  バイト終わってからで遅くなるけど、俺は十一時くらいなら家に戻れるから。おまえは先に寝とけ」
「いいよ、わたしは大丈夫」
三日間くらい一人でも平気だと念を押す。しかし隼斗は首を左右に振った。
「だめ、おまえ未成年だし。一応、俺は保護者代理だし」
決めたら頑固な兄に意見しても無駄だ。遥は前向きではない表情で、か細い声を落とす。
「洗濯機かけるの別でもいい？」
「どういう意味？」
隼斗は片方の口角を上げながら聞き返す。遥が口ごもっているのを見て、頭をひねる。ほどなくして、慌ただしくバイトへ向かった。

すぐに病室に入ることはできなかった。ドアのそばで立ちすくんでいるとネームプレートに母の名前を見つけた。どんな顔をしているのか想像する。もっとも恐れていることは、無表情で目に力さえ入らない母と対面することだった。
半年ほど前までは、苦しそうに力んだ顔をしていたり、ため息をつく姿ばかりが見られた。しかしある時から母は表情を失った。つらさに慣れてしまったのか、あるいは限界を超えて感情が麻痺してしまったのか。遥はネットで調べてみようとしたものの、心当たりのあるキーワードを打ち込むのをためらった。調べてしまったら、きっと検索結果が認めたくない現実を突きつけてくる。図書館で家庭医学や精神医学の本の背表紙をながめていたときもそうだった。気になるタイトルの本があっても決して手には取らなかった。倒れるまで追いつめられている母のために自分ができることはないのだろうか。考えてみても、それを口に出して誰かに相談できるわけでもない。学校の教員やまわりの大人たちに家族がトラブルをかかえていると話すつもりはなかった。

ようやくドアの取っ手をにぎった。音を立てないようにスライドさせながらそっと開ける。ベッドがカーテンで仕切られていた。すぐに窓側の右手に進むと、クリーム色のカーテンの隙間から母の姿が見えた。
「……遥、来たの？」
母は点滴につながれ横になっている。遥が丸椅子に座ると、少しずつ体を起こそうとした。
「いいよ」
すかさず手で制して母を寝かせる。自分に反応して起きあがろうとした姿にわずかな安堵感を覚えた。
「お兄ちゃんから聞いた。バイトのあとに家に泊まりにくるって」
「そう。夕飯、帰りに買っていきなさい。悪いけど、今週はお昼もコンビニで買ってくれる？」
電子マネーにチャージして支払うように伝えると、母の言葉はとだえた。もう話すことはないというように目を閉じる。こうなると、いったん閉じた母のまぶたを再び開かせることはできないと思った。
父との話し合いがどうなっているのか聞けるはずもない。隼斗なら病室でも話しかけただろうが、遥にはこれが限界だった。五分ほどそばにいたが、自分がいるとむしろ休めないような気がして「帰るね」と告げる。
受付に戻る途中、車いすに乗った少女とそれを押す女性がいた。すれ違う際、遥の黒目は少女に向いた。自分より少し年下に見えるその少女は、水色のパジャマを着ていて目のまわりがくぼんでいる。車いすを押す女性は母親だろうか。親子を目で追いながら、少女への羨望があふれて止まらない。
のどがズキンと痛くなった。口の中が乾いて唾液がうまく出ない。自販機を探そうとしたそのとき、思い出してリュックサックのファスナーを開けた。中から出てきたミネラルウォーターは、てっぺんのあたりがへこんでいる。迷わずキャップをひねり一口飲んだ。常温で甘くも塩辛くもない無味の液体がすっと体に染みわたる。わけもなく泣きそうになりながら心がそれを欲した。気がつくと半分以上飲みほしていた。

病院を訪れた日の夜はほとんど眠れなかった。いつまでも院内の景色が頭によみがえり、車いすの少女とその母親の姿が忘れられない。母との会話を思い返しては、もう少しくらい話ができたのではないかと悔やみ続け、だんだん頭が冴えてくる。気がつけば鳥のさえずりが朝を告げ、明け方には強烈な睡魔にみまわれていた。頭の働きが鈍くて朝食をとる時間が取れない。空腹を我慢して昼休みに蒸しパンとコーラを胃に流しこんだ。直後にみぞおちのあたりがキリキリと痛み、午後の授業は頬を机にくっつけていた。
「根本さん」
静かで低い声が聞こえてきて、肩がビクッとなった。顔を上げると首筋がこっている。
「もう授業は終わりましたよ」
机上に広げられていたのは世界史の教科書だった。ノートは真っ白で黒板に目をやると板書は消されている。
すみませんと口の中で言う。宮野はそばに腰をおろすと、遥と視線を合わせた。
「保健室に行ったほうがいいのではありませんか」
それを聞いた直後めまいが起こった。視界は大きく揺れて、まるで地震にあったかのように平衡感覚を失う。頭がくらくらし、しゃべることもままならなかった。まわりからは「大丈夫？」と声が飛んだが、自分でもなにがなんだかわからない。そのとき、宮野に肩を軽く叩かれた。

目が覚めると、こめかみのあたりを鈍痛が締めつけた。きっと眠っていたあいだに歯ぎしりしたせいだ。小学生のころ、歯列矯正をしていたことがきっかけで強く噛みしめるきらいがある。かすみ目がだんだんとはっきり見えるようになった。乳白色の天井とベッドを囲むカーテン。ちょうど昨日、母の横たわっていた病室にそっくりだ。あの光景が、走馬灯のように頭をよぎったと同時に勢いよく起きあがった。髪の毛を手で直していると、カーテンが少し開けられ養護教諭の中条が顔をのぞかせた。
「起きた。具合どう？」
白衣のポケットに手を入れながら中条は近寄ってきた。
「ちゃんと食べて寝られてる？」
中条はひじを抱えながら尋ねる。遥は無言でこくりとうなずいた。うつむく遥を見つめ何か言いたそうだったが、中条はそれ以上追求してこなかった。
「新学期始まって体調崩してる子は多いの。根本さんも気をつけて。でも宮野先生が背負ってきたときはびっくりしたわ」
中条の話がぼんやりしていた遥の視線を持ちあげさせた。教室から保健室までの道中、体を支えられながらも自分の足で歩いていた記憶がある。しかし階段を下り始めたあたりからよく思い出せない。重篤に捉えられては家族に連絡されたかもしれない。
「あの、このこと親にはなんて……」
「覚えてないの？」
遥の問いかけに中条は眉を跳ね上げた。覚えていませんと首を横に振る。
「『親には自分で連絡します』とか、『少し寝れば治ります』って言ってたじゃない。あんまり必死だから、それだけの元気があるなら大丈夫と思ったけど。寝たら忘れちゃったのね」
よく思い出せない。けれど、自分ならばそうするだろうと遥は納得できた。一時間ほど眠っていたらしく、とっくに放課後になっている。教室にリュックを取りに戻らなければならない。退室しようとすると、中条は「ちょっと待って」と声をかけた。
「もしかして根本さんって、ダイエットしてる？」
中条は声のトーンを落とした。
「いいえ。してません」
「本当に？  これあげるわね」
柔和な微笑をちらつかせ、仕事デスクの引き出しから個包装のチョコレートを二つ持ってきて遥にくれた。
「水分、塩分、糖分、とるんだよ」
保健室を出ると、遠くのほうから吹奏楽部が練習する音色が聞こえてきた。サックスとトランペットのアルペジオ。パーカッションが鳴り響き、フルートがスキップするように和音を奏でていた。演奏は上階から聞こえてくる。廊下の窓越しに空を見上げた。晴れている。もう真夏の空の色はなく、立ち昇る積雲もない。淡い水色にほうきで掃いたような雲がたなびいていた。
中条からもらったチョコレートに目を落とす。手のひらの上に乗った赤いパッケージ二つ。なぜかとてつもなく、一人だという感覚におちいった。遥にはいつものことだったが、今は少し違っている。他の同級生たちは当たり前のように持っているのに自分には欠けているものがある。どうして自分にそれがないのかわからなかったし、同時に一人で満たされない気持ちをどうやって埋めればいいのかもわからなかった。

がらんどうになった教室の自分の机には、世界史の教科書とノートが置きっぱなしになっていた。ぱらぱらめくって開いたページは今日の日付が書かれたのみで真っ白だ。
放課後、いつもなら屋上に続く階段へ向かうが三階の社会科教室へ立ち寄った。職員室とは別にある社会科を担当する教員たちの部屋だ。
宮野がいるかどうかわからなかった。担任も部活の顧問もしていないので放課後にいるとすればここしかないが。いてほしい気持ちといてほしくない気持ちが半々だった。ドアをノックして開けると誰もいない。社会科教室を見まわしていると、デスクの向こうがわで人が立ちあがった。
「根本さん」
宮野はしゃがみこみ壁沿いの棚の下を物色していたらしく姿が隠れていた。
「体調は大丈夫ですか？」
あまり深刻そうではない口調で宮野は尋ねた。
「……すみませんでした」
「私は体調は大丈夫か、と聞いたんですよ。なぜあやまるんですか？」
ただ、素朴に疑問を感じた様子だった。宮野は首をかしげる。遥は自信なさげに「大丈夫です」と応えた。
「大丈夫には見えないんだけど」
宮野は小さく笑ったように見えた。けれどもすぐに顔を正して先を続ける。
「大丈夫じゃないとわかっていながら、大丈夫かと根本さんに尋ねた私がいじわるでした。申し訳ない。すみませんでした」
大人から詫びられたのは初めてだった。遥はそれを大仰に受けとめ、首を強く横に振った。遥の反応を見ても宮野の口調は変わらず穏やかだった。
「すみません、とはこういうときに使うんです。さっきの根本さんは『ありがとう』と言うべきでした。人から心配されたり助けてもらったら、お礼を伝えるといいですよ」
「……はい、すみません」
注意を受けたとばかり思って反射的にそう答えてしまった。見逃さなかった宮野は「ほら、また言ったでしょ」と軽い苦笑をもらす。
遥は宮野の雰囲気がかなり違っていることに戸惑う。冗談混じりに言葉を投げかけたり、いたずらっぽく口元を引いたりする教員ではなかった。
宮野はファイルを数冊手にし、自分のデスクのほうへ歩きながら質問した。
「ずっと前からあんな調子なんですか？」
遥は黙ってうなずいた。
「そう。なんとか根本さんが楽になればいいんですけど。あと二ヶ月くらいしたら修学旅行もあるでしょう？」
「修学旅行には行きません」
宮野は手を止めた。遥の目を見て、突きつめない様子でまた質問する。
「それは根本さんの個人的な気持ちですか。それとも本当に行かないの？」
「行きません。参加同意書も『不参加』にして出しました。親に話して、母に印鑑を押してもらいました」
宮野はわずかに眉をひそめた。遥は黙ったまま立ちすくむ。自分のデスクの椅子に腰をかけた宮野は、となりの椅子を遥のために引いた。
「悩んでることがあれば聞きますけど」
目の前の椅子に座るかいなか。固まった遥を見た宮野は、顔をそむけて机上の書類を整理しはじめた。手を動かしながら会話を続ける。
「悩んでいることがあったとしても、言いたくなければ言うべきではありません。誰に何を話すかは、根本さんが持っている権利です」
この教員の真意がつかめない。けれども同時に口の中にたくさんの言葉があって、それを外へ出したい衝動にかられていた。
「……昨日、母が倒れて。それで、病院に行ったんです」
最初に喉が震えた。鼓動が加速する。
「それは大変でしたね」
宮野は顔を正面に向けたまま、一言だけそう返した。結局、遥は立ったまま語りはじめる。
「帰るとき、廊下で車いすに乗った女の子を見かけました。母親が車いすを押して付き添っていたんです。その子は具合が悪そうで、苦しそうでした。でも、わたしはその子をかわいそうだとは思えなかった。逆に、親に心配してもらえて幸せで、一人じゃなくてあなたはいいじゃないって思ってしまったんです」
耳を傾けていた宮野は腕を組み、あごに手を当てた。
「そう思ったことが何か問題ですか？」
遥はすぐさま言い返す。
「大問題。最悪です」
「なぜ？」
「なぜって、私は心の汚い人間だからです」
迷いのない答えを聞いて、宮野はいくばくか黙りこむ。ややあって、遥に座るよう手ぶりでうながした。遠慮がちに腰をかける。
「根本さんが、善人とか悪人をどう定義してるのかは知りませんけど——この世の人間のほとんどは、心が濁っているものです」
「先生もですか？」
「そうならないよう心がけていますが、むずかしいです。よく思うんですが、自分を善人だと信じて、他人を叩いてる人ほど、かえって危うい」
温和な口調のまま、宮野は、まるで独り言のように淡々と言葉を重ねる。
「悪とは無縁だって、どうして言い切れるんでしょう。好意的なふりをして、心の中では相手を憎んでる人なんて、いくらでもいる。……でも、それってもう、人間の心の癖みたいなものなんですよ。だから、責める気にはなれないんです」
難解な方程式にぶちあたったような気分だ。遥は空間の一点に目をこらしながら、宮野の話を反すうする。
「根本さんは自分の内面にひそむ悪の存在に気がつき、それをよくないことだと思って悩んだ。あなたはじゅうぶん道徳的な人間なんです」
ひょっとしてほめられているのだろうか。眉間にしわができている遥の顔を一瞥し、宮野は咳払いした。
「余計なことをしゃべってしまいましたね」
会話を畳んだ宮野は家に帰って休むようにと釘をさす。遥は椅子から立ち上がり一礼した。その場を去ろうとしたときだ。社会科教室のドアがノックされ、ほとんど待たずにドアが開いた。

「失礼します」
入ってきた男子生徒の足元に視線を落とす。青い上履き、右手には数枚のプリント、左手をポケットに入れていた。背は標準より高いようだが姿勢がかなり悪く、とぼとぼとした歩幅で近づいてくる。
「先生。はいこれ。書けた。四枚もね」
ぶっきらぼうな口調は、まるでまな板の上の肉を無造作に切るようだった。その話し方は、あまりに独特だ。宮野にクリップで留めたプリントを渡し、彼は顔を横へと向ける。すかさず遥はうつむいた。
「あなた昨日、屋上に出ようとしてましたよね？」
やはりそうかと遥は唇を噛む。あのとき、ばったり鉢合わせた男子生徒だ。
「人違いだと思います」
遥は目を合わせないで言い返した。
「いや、絶対そう。あそこは『立ち入り禁止』って書いてあるのに、なんで入った？」
「入ってない」
突っぱねる遥は首を横に振る。
「クリップで屋上のドアの鍵開けようとしてただろ。ピッキングは犯罪だよ？」
「私じゃないってば」
正面から懐疑的な視線がじっと動かない。遥は下を向いて口をつぐんだ。
「はいはい、君たち」
押し問答を静観していた宮野が割って入る。意外なことに、質問は遥にではなく男子生徒に投じられた。
「上原くん、私は教員として君に聞かなければならないことがあります」
「なんですか？」
「なぜ生徒立ち入り禁止の階段に足を踏みいれたのですか？」
宮野の問いに、その場はしんと静まり返った。ほどなく、男子生徒は首の後ろに手をやりながら、顔が引きつっている。
「どうして、俺だけ？」
釈然としないという彼に対して、宮野は舌鋒を鋭くする。その語り口は、よどみなくなめらかだった。
「根本さんが立ち入り禁止の場所へ入ったかどうか、それは不確実です。少なくとも本人は否定しています。でも上原くんは、たしかに行ったんでしょう？  根本さんかどうかはわからないけれど、屋上の扉を開けようとしている生徒を見たって君自身が言いましたよね」
すると上原という生徒は首を右に傾け、そうかと思えば今度はゆっくりと左にかしげた。「はてー？」と素知らぬ顔をする彼に宮野がとどめを刺す。
「観念しなさい。墓穴を掘ったのに気がついていますよね」
「ああ、そっすね」
彼は恨めしそうに話題をそらした。
「ていうか、あなたは何組の誰なの？」
きつい言い方ではなかったが、唐突に問いただされた遥は返答にまごついた。
「……F組、根本遥」
彼は薄目になって小首をひねる。それだけだ。自分の名前を明かす気はないらしかった。遥はというと、同じ学年の生徒のほとんどを知らなかった。そればかりかクラスメイトですら顔と名前が一致しない者もいる。
すると宮野が受け取ったばかりのプリントの表面を向け、右上を指でトントンと叩いた。
「一年A組、上原然（ゼン）です」
「ちょっと先生、個人情報」
すこぶるやる気のない漫才のように、ゼンは宮野に突っ込みを入れた。A組は教室が対極に位置する。行事や集会でもない限り、ゼンと遥がお互いの姿を認識することは難しいだろう。
「それにしても上原くん、たくさん書きましたね。すばらしいです」
「うーん、そうでもないです」と言いつつゼンの口元はほころんでいる。やがて、くつくつと小さな笑いがこぼれた。
「提出期限は守ってもらわないと困りますけどね。大学生になったらどんなに優秀なレポートを書いても没にされますよ、没」
宮野は、真顔で「ボツ」のところを強調した。
「善処します」
視線をななめ下に落とし、ゼンは口笛を吹くみたいに軽く唇をすぼめた。すかさず宮野は、善処ではなく絶対だと駄目押しする。さながら餅つきに似て阿吽の呼吸だった。そのうえ声に抑揚がなく、本気で忠告しているようでもない印象を受ける。
遥には彼らのやり取りがじつに風変わりだと感じられた。注意する教員と注意される生徒の間に本来あるべき緊張感がないからだ。とぼけ役とまじめ役の掛け合いのように肩の力が抜けた雰囲気が漂う。
「根本さんも。F組はまだ先ですけど、期限は忘れないでください」
宮野が自分に話をふったので遥は我に返った。たしかに課題のプリントが配布されていたことを思い出す。
「……そんなに書かなきゃだめなんですか？」
「いいえ。空欄の半分を埋めてくれたらいいですよ」
それも宮野が授業中に述べたことだったが、まどろんでいた遥は覚えがない。
「上原くんは歴史が好きなので、いつもたくさん書いてくれます」
ゼンは肩をすくめて自嘲した。
「歴史だけね。他の科目はからっきしなんだから」
「ひとつでも好きなことがあれば十分です。大したものですよ」
感心しながら宮野はレポートの活字を目で追う。打ち解けている二人のやりとりを見つめているうちに、遥は喉の奥が詰まるような違和感を覚えた。次第に息が苦しくなり、がまんしていたはずの声が外にもれる。
「わたしは好きなことなんてない。……何もない空っぽの人間」
こらえきれずに出た言葉は、唇の隙間から小さくあふれて教室の静寂に溶けていった。宮野は目を細め、ゼンは遥に顔を向ける。
「自分が何をしたいかわからない。なんで学校に来ないといけないのかわからないし、なんで生きていなきゃいけないのかもわからない」
場が凍りついている。そうさせたのは、ほかでもない自分だ。たった今、口にした言葉を恥ずかしく思い、うかつな唇を制御できなかったことに後悔する。
教室を飛び出す。
廊下に涙をいくつも落としながら歩いた。恥ずかしさで自分の存在を消してしまいたい。顔をぐちゃっと歪めながら、階段を駆け上がった。上へ、上へと。靴の裏が強い反動を受けている。やがて『生徒立ち入り禁止』の赤文字を横切って備品が置かれた踊り場までたどりついた。ホコリだらけの机や椅子、横倒しにされた清掃ロッカーと脚立もある。それらに目もくれず、さらに階段をのぼった。
扉はいつも目の前にある。ドアノブをにぎり、右へ左へ動かした。押したり突いたりを繰り返す。扉の向こうの景色を見たい。風を受けたい。光を浴びたかった。
暗い顔で「屋上に出たい」とひとこと言えば、きっと誰もが誤解するだろう。扉が開いたのなら、空の下に駆け出してフェンスを飛び越えたい——そんなことは望んではいなかった。この気持ちは誰にも理解してもらえない。あまりに頑丈で、ゆるがない扉の前に立ちすくむ。涙はいつのまにか止まっていた。もう顔に力が入らない。遠くで誰かの笑う声が聞こえた。

翌朝、起きてリビングへ行くと隼斗がテレビを見ながら朝食をとっていた。
「明日、病院にお母さん迎えにいくの？」
遥が棚からコップを取り出しながら聞いた。冷蔵庫から牛乳を取り出し注ぐ。
「そう。十時半。付き添いはなくていいって言われたけど、一人にできないからな」
今後は母の体調を注視して気づかうようにと、隼斗は遥に諭す。もっともつらい状況にあるのは母なのだから、と。
牛乳の紙パックは空になった。中を洗ってシンクに置く。ゴミ箱を覗き込むと、カップ麺の容器が二つあった。縦長のほうは昨夜遥が食べたもので、大きなどんぶり型は隼斗だ。
子どもたちが幼い頃、即席麺を嫌悪していた母は「絶対に食べてはいけない」と躾けていた。だが成長するにつれそのような口止めはされなくなった。隼斗が平然と食べていても不愉快そうに眺めるだけだ。
そんな母の悲しげでさげすむ表情が脳裏をよぎった。遥は空になったカップを乳白色のゴミ袋に入れると、縛って再びゴミ箱へ沈めた。

母の不在や久々の兄との共同生活で、この数日は気を張り続けている。満員電車に押しつぶされそうになりながら、教室に着いたときには疲れきっていた。
朝のホームルームのあと、担任は昨日の世界史の授業終わりについて声をかけてきた。しかし適当にごまかすと、何事もなく話はお開きになったので肩透かしをくらう。どちらかというと、まわりの席の女の子たちのほうが案じて一声かけてきた。大丈夫かと聞かれても大丈夫としか答えようがないし、また彼女たちがその返答を望んでいるような気がしたので、遥が本心を口にすることはなかった。
平常日課が過ぎ去り、放課後になると皆、委員会や部活動へ散ってゆく。生徒たちと時間を置いて、ひとけの少なくなった頃に校舎の最上階に向かった。
今日はヘアピンを持参した。ピンの先を鍵穴へ差し込む。ところが鍵穴に対してピンが細すぎている。前かがみの姿勢を正し、ヘアピンに視線を集中させて思案した。
「一年F組、根本遥さん」
突然、背後から名前を呼ばれ肩がびくっと持ちあがる。振り向くと階段の下のほうにゼンが立っていた。彼が手にするスマホのカメラは遥に向いている。現場を押さえられたらもう言い逃れができない。
遥は顔が強張り眉を中央へ寄せた。するとゼンはスマホを反対向きにして液晶画面を見せてきた。
「嘘さ」
飄々とした口調で言うと、階段を上ってくる。ゼンのスマホの画面は電源が入っておらず真っ暗だった。ほっと胸をなでおろしたが警戒心は解けない。
「本当に撮ってない？」
再三、確かめる遥にゼンはため息をもらした。
「撮ったって俺にメリットないよ。そういう趣味もないから」
ゼンは階段の踊り場にあぐらをかいた。ここは俺の領土だと言わんばかりに当たり前な調子で座りこむ。次いで、学生かばんから一冊の単行本を取りだした。ゼンの行動を目で追っていた遥は自分も床に座った。
「上原くんは、ここで何をしてるの？」
「そっちこそ、ここで何してんのさ？」
尋ねたがブーメランになって戻ってきてしまった。ぶつかり合った質問にお互い口が開かない。沈黙が流れ、会話は進まないどころか始まるきざしがなかった。
「……ジャンケン？」
ゼンの提案に視線を持ちあげる。五秒間ほど見つめ合った直後、ゼンが「最初はグー」と合図した。ジャンケンの結果、遥はグーを出し、ゼンはチョキだった。
「やった、勝った」
小声で本音をもらした遥は自分のこぶしをにぎりしめる。勝敗が分かったとき、ゼンはかすかに舌打ちしていた。彼は本をぼすんとかばんの上に置き、踊り場の壁に頭と背中を寄りかからせて話し始めた。
「俺は、昼休みにここに来て読書してる。教室だとうるさいし、本読んでるとなんかウザがられるんだよね。『おまえマジメか』とかバカにされるし」
その場の静けさに呼応して、ゼンは声を小さくしながら説明を続けた。
「図書室も落ち着かなくて。そしたら、誰もいなくてまわりを気にしなくてもいいここを見つけたってわけ。夏休み明けてから、最近は放課後もたまに来るんだよ」
事情を聞いた遥は、ゼンの書籍へ目を向ける。書店のカバーがかけられ、栞が挟まっていた。
「もしかして歴史の本？」
「うん、そう」
「どうして歴史が好きなの？」
「たぶん小さい頃から家にあった漫画の影響」
人は未来にしか進めない。だからこそ、過去を地図にする。 歴史は、賢くなるためじゃなくて、愚かさを繰り返さないためにある——作中のキャラクターの台詞だと、ゼンは教えてくれた。
「所詮、漫画って思ってるんでしょ」
「……別に、そんなこと」
語尾を弱めた遥の声には、詰まらせた言葉の続きが滲んでいた。おずおずとまつ毛を上げる。ゼンは静かな眼差しで、まるでその続きを待っているようだった。
「『歴史は愚かさを繰り返さないためにある』って言われると、なんとなく……過去＝失敗って決めつけられてる気がするの」
ゼンは口を閉じたまま、ゆっくりとまばたきを繰り返していた。その視線に見つめられると、遥は、自分が何か間違ったことを言ったのではないかと胸がちくりと痛んだ。謝ろうと、息を吸い込んだそのときだった。
「根本さんの言うことも、一理あるね」
どこか嬉しそうな声色だ。けれど、遥にはゼンの瞳の奥にある高揚の意味が読み取れない。
遥はゼンの話し方が宮野と似ているような気がした。物腰に上品さのある宮野とはやや異なるが、主張がはっきりしているわりに威圧的な印象を受けないところが重なる。喧嘩越しでも押しつけがましくもない。ゼンの落ち着いた口調は、端的に自分は自分、他人は他人と言いたげだった。
「それで、根本さんは？」
油断していたところで問われた遥は背筋が伸びた。すぐに答えることができない。自分が何をしようとしているのか、うまく説明できなかった。屋上に出たいと言えば「なぜ屋上に出たいのか？」と続くに決まっている。
明らかに言いにくそうな表情を浮かべる遥に、ゼンは質問を変えて問う。
「なんで一人で屋上に出ようとしてるの？」
遥にしてみればますます答えにくくなった。
「もしかして死にたいの？  飛び降りようとしてるとか」
「違う！」
声を張り上げると、ゼンは人差し指を立てて「おいっ、静かにしろ」とたしなめた。きゅっと下唇を噛んで遥はうつむく。その様子を見たゼンは、頭を掻きながら小声でつぶやいた。
「死にたいのとか、ごめん」
「……」
会話は行き詰まる。沈黙をやぶったのはゼンのほうだった。
「言いたくても言葉にできないことってあるよね。自分のことなのに自分でもよくわかんないことって、あるよ」
ゼンの誠実な態度は遥の罪悪感をあおった。心のどこかで彼を幼稚と決めつけていた。言語化できない胸の内をさらけだしてみても、冷笑されて会話は流れるのだろうと思っていた。
「根本さん昨日さ、なんで学校来なきゃいけないのかわかんない。とかって言ったでしょ？」
できるならそのことには触れないでほしかった。遥は恥じらいが込みあげて、ゼンと目を合わせないように床を見つめた。
「俺も同じこと考えてたことあるわけよ。でも俺は心の中のことをまわりの人に言えなかった。だから昨日の根本さんを見たとき、けっこうすごいと思ったんだよね」
ゼンの話は遥の沈んだ視線をさらった。淡々と語る彼に瞳を向け、唖然としてしまう。
ゼンは中学時代に学校へ行けなくなったことがあった。いじめられていたわけではなく、朝になると身体がだるく、起き上がれなかったという。ずっと我慢していたが、結局行かなくなったのだと教えてくれた。
嘘ではないのだろう。あけすけなゼンには裏があるように思えない。だいたい、つくりばなしを聞かせたところで彼になんの得もないのだ。
「……学校行かなくなったの中学のいつくらい？」
遥は質問するために数分の沈黙を要した。なぜゼンがそれを打ち明けてきたのか、彼の心情をおもんぱかるには余りあることだった。
「二年の二学期から。うちの両親は沖縄出身なんだけど、夏休みに母親の実家に行ったのがきっかけで、そのまましばらくあっちにいた」
「しばらくってどのくらい？」
「二年の三学期まで休んでたけど、三年になってこっちに戻ってきた。高校受験もやる気があったしね」
「……沖縄は、修学旅行で行くところだよね」
「ああ、そうだね。俺は行かないけど」
遥の心臓はどくんと一回大きく打ちつけた。それは緊張感に類するもので、コップのふちからいっぱいになった水が今にもあふれだしそうな、心もとない気持ちだ。ゼンは再び本を取り、顔をページに向けたまま軽い口調で付け加えた。
「俺、小五の時に那覇から引っ越してきたんだよね。今もたまに遊びに行ってるし、ぶっちゃけ修学旅行とかだるいわ」
「親に反対されなかったの？」
「全然。うちは放任主義だからね」
根拠はないが、遥にはゼンがなにかを隠しているように思えた。そして、自分も修学旅行に行かないのだと打ち明けようとして踏みとどまる。自分はずるい——心の中にそんな感情がふつふつと湧きあがる。ゼンが教えてくれなければ自分も彼に打ち明けようとは思わなかっただろう。それではまるで、あなたが秘密を教えてくれたからお返しに教えてあげる、と言っているようなものだ。先日、宮野と交わしたやりとりが脳裏をかすめた。ゼンが誰に何を話すか、それは彼の権利で、彼が自分に語った意を汲みとらなければ。
「……わたしは放課後しかここに来ないの。上原くんの読書の邪魔しないから」
声をかけられたゼンは本から目線を上げた。にわかに顔を曇らせたかと思えばこともなげに言い返す。
「鍵を開けようとしてたことは誰にも言わないよ。俺もこの場所がなくなると嫌だし。ちなみに、宮野先生は俺がここで本読んでるの知ってるから。でも他の先生には黙ってくれてる」
その言葉に、遥は宮野をただならぬ人だと思った。同時に、社会科教室を飛び出したあの日のことが胸に重くのしかかる。
「あの時、わたし……教室、飛び出してしまって」
“あの時”と切り出されたゼンは、一瞬だけ首を傾けた。けれどすぐに、「あぁ」と軽く返す。思い出したのだとわかって、遥は無意識に息を吐いた。うなだれて、冷たい床に視線を落とす。
「なんで落ち込んでんの？」
ゼンの問いかけに、遥は「……だって」と呟く。それ以上の言葉がつながらず、伏せた目も持ち上がらない。
「過ぎたこと悔やんでも、しょうがないじゃん」
「でも……恥ずかしい」
ふいに手のひらに力がこもる。こんなことを話しても迷惑だろう。ゼンは動く気配を見せない。遥が立ち去ろうと顔を上げると、「あのさ」とゼンは引き止めた。
「恥ずかしいって思うのは、それだけ自分にとって大事なことだったからじゃない？ 人前で、自分の内側をさらせる時点で、それって、ちょっと誇っていいことだと思うよ」
予想外の言葉に照らされて、遥はぽかんとする。揺らぐ瞳でゼンを見返すと、彼は反対に凪いだような落ち着きをまとっていた。
「……やっぱり、宮野先生にちょっと似てる」
「え、なにが？」
ゼンは眉を寄せたが、すぐにふっと笑ってあぐらの上で本のページを開いた。まるで、ずっと前からこの場所にいたかのように、空間に馴染んでいる。遥自身も、屋上階段にはだいぶ以前からいたはずなのに。今はもう、ここが自分だけの場所ではなく、ふたりの共通の居場所のように感じられた。ただ、少しだけ。ゼンの背に差す影の理由が、遥にはまだわからなかった。

第二章  名前のない距離

修学旅行は十一月最終週に三泊四日で実施される。今年から行き先は沖縄本島になった。班が決まってからは、事前学習が続いている。戦争や基地問題などを掘り下げるはずだったが、多くの生徒は観光スポットの下調べに余念がない。泳げないことを惜しむ者もいれば、日焼けしないことや暑すぎないことをよしとする者もいた。あちらこちらで浮き足立つ声が飛び交うなか、遥の居場所はない。近くではボルテージを控えめにするクラスメイトもいたが、彼ら彼女らもだんだんと遥を気にしなくなっていった。

長雨も落ち着き始めた十月中旬、遥は社会科教室に立ち寄った。ノックをしてドアを開けると机に向かっている男性教員のうしろ姿が目に飛び込んだ。
「失礼します。宮野先生はいらっしゃいますか？」
か細い声を出すと教員は振り向いた。白髪で眼鏡をかけている。名前は失念したが、校内でたまに見かける先生だった。表情には温厚なしわが目立つ。年齢は六十くらいではないかと推測した。
「今ちょっといないんだ。すぐ戻ってくるって言ってたけど待ちます？」
「いいですか」
遥がそう言うと、教員は部屋の隅に置かれていたパイプ椅子を持ってきた。お礼を述べ、座って待機する。それから五分ほどで宮野は戻ってきた。
授業の終わりに教室で提出してもよかったのだが、遥は大半の生徒がそうしたようにしなかった。プリントを手渡すと、宮野は黒目を左右に動かして素早く一読する。
「よく書けました。期限ぎりぎりでしたけど」
宮野はまずコメントし、次いでレポートの表面を遥に向けた。それから、用紙を裏返した。遥のレポートは上から始まり、紙の裏の半分にまで達している。
「なんだかこのレポートからは根本さん以外の気配を感じますね」
「上原くんに少しアドバイスをもらいました」
たばかることはできないし、そうするつもりもなかった。正直に答えた遥に宮野はふっと目を細め、わずかに口角を上げた。
「上原くん、しょっちゅうここへ来て、社会科の先生方と舌戦を交えているんです。ねえ、新田先生」
宮野は、向かいの教員に声をかけた。さっき遥に椅子を出してくれた先生だ。宮野がゼンについて尋ねると、新田はほほ笑んだ。眼鏡の奥で視線をふと上に向けて、「あぁ、あの子ね」ともっと破顔する。
「ご両親が大学の先生で、歴史を研究されているからね。私もつい熱弁しちゃってね。話していると、こっちまで楽しくなっちゃうんですよ」
遥は言葉を失った。ゼンは、歴史が好きな理由を漫画の影響だと語っていた。あの時、両親のことには触れなかった。社会科教室に出入りしていることにも、少し引っかかりを覚える。部活には入っていないというし、昼休みは屋上階段の踊り場で読書にふけっている。どうやら彼は、集団行動が好きではないようだ。考え込んでいると新田が席を立ちながら口にした。
「前は歴史研究部があったんだけど、部員がいなくなって廃部になっちゃったんですよ。存続してたらあの子もきっと入部したんじゃないかな」
それについては宮野も初耳のようで、興味ありげに眉を高くした。
「いつ廃部になったんですか？」
「そうだねぇ、たぶんもう四年くらい前ですよ」
遥に目で笑いかけてから、新田は腰に手を当てて伸びをする。職員室に行くと言うなり社会科教室をあとにした。宮野は静かなまなざしで再度レポートを見返し、視線を用紙に向けたまま口だけを動かした。
「いつのまにか仲良くなったんですね、君たちは」
「べつに仲良くはないです。ただこの前はちょっとお互い誤解してたんです」
自然に口走った。遥の語気はやや強まる。用紙を机上に置いた宮野は、椅子の背もたれにもたれかかり両手を組んだ。

「それで、どうして根本さんは屋上階段に行ったんですか？」
即答できず、軽く唇を噛む。宮野は正面を向いたまま、真横に立つ遥が黙秘を解くのを待った。
「先生は、わたしが心に問題のある生徒だと思いますか」
遥は自分の手のひらをにぎりしめ、小さく声を出した。
「私は屋上階段に行った理由を聞いているんですよ？」
「屋上から飛び降りようとしてるとか、先生はそう思うんですか」
すると宮野は黙りこみ、ゆっくりまばたきを二、三度してから眉間にしわを寄せた。
「おこがましいかもしれませんが、根本さんは、相手がどう思うかを先に決めつけてしまっているのでは。『屋上』と『飛び降りる』という二つの概念を結びつける発想は理解できなくもないのですが、ほかにも考えられるはずです。高い所でないとできない自然観察とか、気象観測とか、あるいは屋上に何があるのか、どうなっているのか見てみたいという好奇心も動機になりえると思います」
相手を言い負かそうという迫力はなかった。宮野はただ冷静に、理路整然と話す。あごに手を当てながら、落ち着いた口調は変わらない。
「仮に、根本さんが本気で飛び降りを図っているとしてもです。わざわざ学校の屋上を選ぶ理由はなんでしょう。私が思うに、根本さんにとってその場所は特別な意味を持っているんじゃないのかな？」
見透かされてもっと混乱し、言葉が出てこない。
「……すみません」
人前で頭の中が真っ白になると無意識にそう口にする。そう言ってしまえば、たいていは話を強制的に打ち切ることができるからだ。ところが宮野は回転式の椅子を動かし、体を遥のほうに向けて会話を続けた。
「根本さんは、あやまるようなことを一つも言っていません。何も悪くないのに、あやまる癖ができると言葉を奪われていきますよ。今、根本さんが言いたかったことは、もっと別のことだったんじゃありませんか？」
説教をされているのとは、だいぶ違う感覚だ。萎縮させられる恐怖感がない。まるで、胸の内に抱えているものを吐き出してしまえと言われているような気がした。
大人は苦手だ。解決策を求めているわけではないのに、子どもだからと心配して心の境界線を簡単に踏みこえてくる。だから大人は怖い。でも、この人は境界線の向こうがわから、ただ話を聞いてくれるような気がした。
「中学の頃、昼休みになると解放される屋上で親友とよく過ごしました。学校の屋上には、親友との大事な思い出がいっぱいあるんです。でもその子は、入試で第一志望校に不合格になった……その夜、自分の家の、マンションから」
それ以上、何も言えない。遥は閉口した。すぐそばで、飛び降りた親友の幻影が自分を見張っている。あの子は青春を奪われた。自分だけ高校生活を謳歌することなど許されない。耳を傾けていた宮野は、ささやくように口を挟んだ。
「どんなに深い絆や繋がりがあっても、他人の人生を根本さんが背負う必要はありません。根本さんの人生を代わりに生きることができる人間はいない。それと同じことです」
「……たとえ、家族でもですか？」
「家族も他人です。自分以外は他人なんです」
宮野は、迷いなく言い切った。その言葉が、遥の胸の奥に静かに沈んだ。

◇変形させたクリップの先端を鍵穴に差しこんだ。今回は前より小さいクリップで、シリンダーの奥までしっかり刺さった。屋上階段の踊り場にあぐらをかきながら、ゼンはあきれたように遥を傍観する。
「思ったんだけどさァ。職員室行って鍵くださいって頼んでみれば？」
「それはできない。屋上に行きたい理由を聞かれる。行きたいものは行きたいんですって答えて、納得してもらえるはずない」
「適当に考えて言えばいいじゃん」
「嘘ついてこの鍵を開けてもらっても、意味ない」
「根本ってけっこうめんどくさい」
いつからか、ゼンは遥を呼び捨てにするようになった。敬称の変化に気づいていたものの、とくにどうとも思っていなかったし、ゼンもなにくわぬ顔をしていたのであえて触れようとはしなかった。
やはり灰色の扉は壁にくっついたままびくともしない。そこへゼンが無造作に立ち上がり、扉へ近寄って来た。彼はドアノブを指さす。
「一応、聞くんだけど。もし開いたとしてどうやってまた施錠するわけよ？」
質問を受け、遥は手を止めた。集中して渇いたかすみ目にまばたきして考える。
「これって完全犯罪の計画じゃないの？」
ゼンに問われ、黙ったまま首を横に振る。計画というか、端的にいって遥は見切り発車だ。するとゼンは手のひらを差しだした。
「ちょっと貸して」
遥は持っていたクリップを手渡した。受け取ると、ゼンは身をかがめ鍵穴に片目をすがめる。まさかと察した矢先、彼は本当にピッキングを始めた。ところが手が大きので小さなクリップを床に落としてしまう。舌打ちをして拾い、また鍵穴と格闘するといったことを二、三度繰り返した。その様子を横で見ていると、なんだか可笑しくなってきてしまった。自分はこんなふうに見えていたのか、と想像するとおかしくて忍び笑いしてしまう。
「俺もさァ……なんか屋上に出てみたくなった」
手を動かしながら、ゼンがぽつりとそんなことを言った。思いがけない一言を受けて遥の笑みは消える。
「ほかのヤツらにはできないことだから、もし出られたら、勝ったような気分になる」
その声には感情が乗っておらず、より小さく低い声だった。
「ほかのヤツらって？」と、遥は尋ねた。
「クラスメイトとか。たとえば」
やはりゼンの口調は冷ややかだった。クラスで気にくわないことがあるのだろうか。なぜ修学旅行に乗り気でないのかはわからないが、それはおいそれと質問できることでもない。
「ああ、もう無理」
匙を投げたゼンはクリップを遥に返して遠ざかる。彼がかばんから取り出した本は、カバーのはじっこが破けていた。離れていてもわかるほど大胆に裂けている。
「上原くん、最近放課後にここで会うけど、昼休みは来てないの？」
「うーん。昼休みは色々忙しいんだよね」
「そうなんだ」
ゼンは黙読しはじめた。読書のさまたげになってはいけないと、遥は階段を下りていった。

文化の日の連休明けには、毎年恒例の校舎外清掃が実施される。六時間目のホームルームで、生徒たちは普段手が行き届かない校舎周辺をくまなく清掃する。
秋晴れの空の下、ほうきと火ばさみを手に生徒一人ひとりが美化に励んでいた。F組の遥は、校舎裏の駐輪場付近で落ち葉や枯れ葉をかき集める。やがて一時間が経過し、終了の合図があちこちから聞こえてきた。遥の班も終わりの号令をする。秋の日差しも、まともに浴び続ければ汗ばむ。熱を帯びた体にあたる微風が心地よいと思っていたときだった。
樹木のしげる武道場付近を掃除している男子たちの中にゼンの姿があった。五人の男子生徒が放つ空気にはどことなく不穏なものを感じる。まるで四人がゼンを取り囲んでいるかのようだった。
遥は彼らの会話を聞こうと耳をそばだてた。しかし、何十メートルも離れているため聞き取れない。次の瞬間、「ハハハ」という乾いた笑い声がした。笑っているのはゼンではない。心配しつつも、遥は歩くのを止められず、クラスメイトたちと教室に戻った。

放課後、遥は階段の踊り場にいた。鍵のかかった扉に背を向けて座り、階段を見下ろす。ピッキングはせず、ここへ来るなりずっとこんな調子でぼうっとしていた。
修学旅行を三週間後に控え、毎日教室で自分の存在を消すことに神経を使っている。一人になると気が緩みつい放心状態になった。参加同意書を提出した一学期のころよりは体力も気力も回復しているが、クラスメイトには健康上の理由で行かないと伝えている。
思えば、一学期は家族の行く末も五里霧中だった。先日の連休中、母は離婚がほぼ成立したことを知らせてきた。手続きがすんだら今の家から引っ越すという。
来年には十六年間暮らした家を出て母との二人暮らしが始まる。遥の生活環境がなるべく変わらないようにと父母は話し合っているらしい。名字も変わらず、転校せずにすむように通学圏内で転居先を探しているところだという。
複雑だった。そこまで自分のことを気にかけてくれているのに、子どものために別れないという選択肢は両親にはないのだろうか。遥の視界は向かいの空間を見つめた。踊り場にぽっかりできた余白にゼンの姿を浮かべる。
今日は来ないのだろうか。清掃中に男子たちと何を話していたのだろう。輪の中で一人、彼は面白くなさそうな顔をしていた。
遥はゆっくりと立ち上がり、リュックサックを背負った。人の気配に注意しながら屋上の階段を下る。北側の階段をくだりつづけると、一学年の教室が並ぶフロアに着いた。階段を抜けるとすぐにB組の教室が見え、さらに北側に向かうとA組の教室がある。

A 組のうしろのドア付近に近づくと、ちょうど教室後方にある掃除用ロッカーを勢いよく開閉する生徒がいた。
「根本？」
ゼンが眉根を寄せる。目の前でロッカーの戸が大砲のように打ち鳴らされて、遥は思わず凍りついた。
「ここになんか用？」
「……その、今日はまだ学校にいるのかなと思って。教室にいるのかなって。まさか本当にいるとは思わなかったの」
しどろもどろな遥の説明に、ゼンは首を傾げて声をかぶせた。
「何が言いたいわけよ？」
単刀直入に問われ、言葉に詰まってから小声をあげる。
「ごめん。わたしにもよくわからない」
「まーたそれ。根本の『わからない病』」
ゼンは肩をすくめ、窓際の席へと歩いていく。遥は教室を見渡した。もう誰もいない。廊下に棒立ちでは目立つと気がつき、おずおず教室に入っていく。
「一人で何してたの？」
「掃除。今日当番だったんだけど、他のみんなばっくれやがった。修学旅行中もよろしくだって」
そう言いながらゼンは憤りもせず冷静だった。
「ひどい」
遥の唇から率直な感情があふれた。いつもそうなのか、と恐れがちに尋ねる。ゼンは学生かばんを机上に置いて帰るしたくをはじめた。
「初めてだよ。でも、俺が修学旅行に行かないって知ってから、突っかかってくるようになった」
ゼンはいじめられているのではないかという懸念がわいた。だが、なんと声をかけれればよいかわからず月並みな言葉も浮かんでこない。
「ごめん」
遥が呟くと、かばんのチャックを開閉するゼンの手が止まった。
「なんで、ごめんって言うの？」
「こんなとき、なんて言えばいいかわからなくて」
「べつにいいよ。俺は相手にしてないから」
お構いなしだとゼンは荷物をまとめる。遥はなおも気を揉んでいたが、深追いはできなかった。
「そっちこそ、クラスでいじめられてるんじゃないの？」
突拍子もなかった。ゼンのまなざしが急に鋭くなり、声色も軽さが感じられない。遥が「いじめられていない」と告げると彼はうなずいた。しかしまだ、何か思うところがあるというふうに黙って床を見つめ続けている。
不確かな表情を浮かべていた矢先、ゼンは突然机の上に座った。
「じゃあ、何がそんなにつらくてさ、泣きながら屋上のドアにしがみついていたの？」
いつどのときの話をされているのか、遥は正直ついていけていなかった。具体的な言葉を返せなくて黙り込む。
「知ってたんだよね。本当は、あの時が初めてじゃなかった。前にも二、三回、根本が屋上階段にいるの、見た」
淡々と話すゼンが何を思っているのか、遥は読み取れない。彼は座っていても姿勢が悪く、猫背で首を浅くかしげたまま、先を続けていった。
「放課後、あそこに居たくて行ってみたら誰かに先を越されてた。最初はびっくりしたんだけど、なんかそいつ、泣きながら扉をベタベタ触ってて。それで、すげえ必死に鍵を開けようとしてるから、どうしようって思って。気まずくて声かけられなかった」

人の気配にはアンテナを張っていたつもりだったのにまったく気がつかなかった。いつのまにか遥は泣きそうな顔になっている。ゼンと目が合うと慌ててうつむき、両手で顔をおおった。
「まあ、あれは俺も見なかったことにするわ」
苦笑しながらゼンは軽く言った。それはちっともなぐさめにはならず、遥の耳を赤く染めてゆく。
「いいんじゃないの。泣けるなら泣いたほうがいいよ」
ゼンの口調はからかうでもなく、優しく気遣うでもなく、どこか憂いを帯びていて物寂しい感じすらした。遥が顔から手を離してみると、ゼンは机に座って両手を後ろにつき足をぶらぶら動かしていた。
遥は唾を飲みこんでから教室の静けさに抗うように口を開く。
「わたし修学旅行行かないの。先に上原くんに言われて、あとから言いだしづらくなった」
するとゼンは足を動かすのを止め、ゆっくりとまばたきを繰り返した。
「へえ。そうなんだ」
拍子抜けするくらい手応えのない返答だった。
「驚かないの？」
「驚いてるよ。驚きすぎて、どうリアクションしていいかわかんない」
そう言って、ゼンはゆっくり顔を黒板のほうに向けた。
「なんで行かないのか聞いてもいい？」
質問をしたあとも、ゼンは遥の顔を見ようとはしなかった。
「入学前からちょっと、家の中が大変でいろいろあって。それで、このまえ母が倒れて入院したの……」
遥は、眉ひとつ動かないゼンの横顔に続きを語った。
「夜はずっと眠れなくて、学校に来ると眠くなる。すぐに疲れてみんなのペースについていけない。こんなんじゃ修学旅行に行くなんてとても」
そこから先はもう言葉が出てこない。沈黙が続き、その間に校庭から野球部のバットがボールを打ち返す音が何度となく響いた。
止まっていた会話を再開させたのはゼンだった。ようやく遥のほうに顔を向けたが、依然として目を合わせることはなく声も重苦しかった。
「ごめん。俺もこういうときになんて言えばいいかわかんないや」
「いいよ」
ある意味、捨て身で打ち明けた。 ゼンのありのままの反応は、そのことを後悔に追いやるものではなかった。こういうとき、父も隼斗も何かを言おうとする。気の利いたことを言わなければと思っているのだろうが、遥には達観の主張で威張っているようにしか感じられなかった。隼斗の前で口にすれば当の本人は眉を吊り上げるだろうが、そういうところはよく似た親子だなと遥は思う。
「俺、修学旅行めんどくさいって言ったけど、本当はそうじゃない。別の理由がある」
「……うん」
「修学旅行が嫌なわけじゃない。沖縄じゃなければよかったんだ」
ゼンの話は言葉足らずで、遥には難解だった。彼の実家は地元で、中学時代には祖父の家で過ごしたこともあるというが、行きたくないというのは余程のことなのだろう。
「ずっと逃げてるだけ、俺は」
「逃げてるようには見えないよ。上原くんはむしろ向き合ってるように見える。何にかは、わからないけど」
そう言った直後、ゼンの黒目が下から上へと動き遥を見つめた。しかし彼はすぐに瞬きをして目をそらし、ぶっきらぼうに言った。
「もう帰るけど。そっちは？」
ゼンは机から降りた。
「わたしも帰る」
「一緒に下まで行く？」
うなずいて、教室を出ようとするゼンの背後について行く。彼は前のドアに向かうと、照明のスイッチを消した。薄暗い教室内で遥は振り返り、整然と並べられた机と椅子に目をやる。後方に置かれた三種類のゴミ箱と掃除用ロッカーに視線を移し、ゼンのいた席から窓ガラス、黒板まで見回した。
「A組もF組とあんまり変わらないんだね」
引き止められたようにゼンは遥のほうへ顔を向けた。廊下に出ようとしていたがそばに寄ってきて言う。
「あんまりっていうか、教室はどこも全部一緒でしょ」
遥は遠くの風景を眺めるように箱の中の空間を瞳に映す。ゼンの視線は、遥と教室内を行ったり来たりした。
「根本の席はどこ？」
あそこ、と遥は廊下側の前から四番目の席を指差す。
「いいとこ座ってんじゃん」
ゼンは遥の席を見てそう言った。
「どうだろうね。でも、一番後ろはプリントとか回収しないといけないから」
「ああ、それはわかるよ」
肩で笑いながらゼンは同意する。自分の席がラッキーポジションだなんて考えたこともなかったが、今は自然にそう思えた。
入学してもう半年以上経つのに、同級生と会話しながら階段を下りるのはこれが初めてのことだった。
「修学旅行中、半日学校に来て自習だね」
ポケットに手を突っ込んで歩くゼンに、遥が言った。
「課題やらされるんだろ」
「わたし、試験勉強したいんだけどな」
「俺は本読みたい、それか寝るか」
「監督の先生がいると思うよ」
「うわァ、しにダルい！」
「し、しに？」
「『すっごく』って意味。沖縄の方言」
「へえ」
歩く途中で何人かの生徒とすれ違ったが、遥はそれが男子だったか女子だったかよく覚えていなかった。ただ自分も、すれ違う生徒たちと同じように学校の風景の一部なのだという感覚だけはあった。それは一人、靴底の感触を確かめながら歩くのとはずいぶん異なる体験だった。

やがて二人は昇降口までたどり着き、それぞれクラスの靴箱に行った。靴を履いて校舎の玄関を出ると、外でゼンが待っていた。
「ごめんね、お待たせしました」
なぜだか、他人行儀の敬語になってしまった。「お待たせ」というのはどうもなれなれしい。声をかけても、ゼンはぼんやりしていた。視線の先にはひこうき雲がまっすぐ伸びている。
「どうしたの？」
「こっちの空って静かだよな」
「空？」
「……なんでもない」
ゼンは先に歩き出した。何を考えていたのかわからなかった。遥は後を追いかける。
「根本はどっち？」
校門を出た道路上で尋ねられた。
「こっち」
「俺も」
会話はなく、しばらく同じ方向へ進んだ。
「ねぇ、根本って彼氏とかいないの？」
ゼンの口調は冗談めいていて、風のようにさらりと問いかけた。予想していなかった話題に、遥の胸の奥がざわめいた。答えようとすると、動揺が言葉の先を曇らせる。
「……周りに馴染むだけで精一杯。恋なんて、考える余裕ないよ」
ゼンは特に驚くでもなく、次の言葉をつなぐ。
「そう。他の学校とか。中学の頃の友だちとかいるでしょ？」
遥は黙り込んだ。ゼンがちらりと目を横へ向ける。視線を感じ、何か言わなければという焦りが、遥の口を開かせる。
「上原くんこそ、彼女いないの？」
それは反射的な質問だった。他意はない。けれど、聞いて良かったのだろうかと遥は気が重くなった。
「俺、身軽でいたいんだよね。心が」
ゼンは落ち着いていて、言い方もさっぱりしていた。
「つまり、いるの？  いないの？」
頭で考えるより先に声が出た。ゼンは困ったような笑みを小さくこぼす。
「いないけどさ」
「……ひょっとして、沖縄に好きな人がいるとか？」
「は？  それ超めんどくさいやつじゃん」
ほんのわずかな安堵感が、遥の心に静かに響く。歩きながらアスファルトを見つめた。いつのまにか、ふたりの歩調は揃っていた。
「うちのクラスさ、彼氏彼女の話で騒がしくて。そういうの聞くと、自分だけ熱がないみたいで。冷めた人間なのかなって、ちょっと思う」
「冷めてなんかないよ」
遥の声には張りがあった。顔を上げると、ゼンと目が合った。彼の考えていることはわからない。人間関係を避けたいというより、どうすれば人と信頼関係を結べるのか悩んでいるように見えた。彼の瞳の奥には、遥自身が抱えるものとよく似た悩みがあるような気がした。けれど、聞けなかった。その瞳の奥には、今はまだ触れてはいけない空気が漂っていた。
「なんかさ、『彼女』って肩書きがあるだけで、仲良くするにも気を使うっていうか、重くない？」
「……その考え方が、すでに重い気がするけどね、上原くん」
遥の口から、ぽろりと本音がこぼれた。自然な突っ込みだったが、すぐに後悔する。悪いことを言ったかもしれないと思い、ゼンの顔をうかがうと、彼はあっけらかんとしていた。
「付き合ってるってなると、なんかそれっぽくしなきゃいけない感じがして。そういうのが、ダルいんだよね」
ゼンらしい、軽やかな語調だった。
「ちょっとだけわかる気がする。……わたしもたぶん、『しにダルい』」
遥は付け足した。ゼンは小さく息を吐くように笑う。
「まさか男子と恋バナする日が来るとは思わなかったよ」
「え、これって恋バナなわけ？」
「……たぶん」
「ふーん。知らんけど。俺、こっちだから」
二つ目の信号に差しかかったところだった。ゼンが人差し指を右方向に向ける。遥がそれにうなずくと、彼はくるりと背を向けた。思いがけず、遥は口を開いたが、息が喉の奥に詰まって声がうまく出ない。それでも必死に空気を吸いながら、遠ざかる背中に向かって声を張り上げた。
「上原くん！」
名前を呼ぶと、ゼンは歩みを止めて振り返る。
——またね。その言葉は届かなかったかもしれない。失敗したと思ったが、ゼンはわずかにあごを上げると、ひとこと投げ返してきた。
轟音だった。すぐ横を運送トラックが通りかかり、声が排気音にかき消される。けたたましいエンジンが空気をゆがませて遥の鼓膜をさすった。もう一度、聞きとるチャンスはなかった。ゼンは前に向き直ると、歩いて行ってしまった。

最終章  あの青へ

高校合格がわかったあの日、父は家を出ていった。母に合格の一報を伝えようと電話をかけると、応えた声はくぐもっていた。
「よかったわね」
祝福の言葉とは真逆で嬉しそうには聞こえない。遥の耳に届いた嗚咽は悲痛なものだった。
「どうしたの？」
尋ねると、母はとりとめのないことをぶつぶつと話し、ぷつんと途切れたかと思えば「お母さんだってよくわからないのよ」とつぶやいた。
合格通知のことはひとまず頭の片隅に置いて、家に戻ると兄が来ていた。当時大学三年生の隼斗は一人暮らし。月に一度は実家に帰っていたが、最後に帰省してからまだほんの数日しか経っていなかった。リビングに漂う物々しい気配から遥は悟った。神様はこの家から幸せを取り上げたのだと。
「だめ。やっぱ出ないよ」
隼斗は怒気をはらんだ低い声を出す。幾度も父に電話をかけていた。
母はダイニングテーブルに肘をつき、頭を抱えていた。黙り込んでいて何も語ろうとしない。
「それで母さんはどうすんだよ」
隼斗は確信をつくように言ったが、遥にはその意味がよくわからなかった。
「家では威張って、外では女遊びかよ」
「やめなさい隼斗」
母は声を荒げたが、すぐに肩で息をして再びうつむいた。机上を見つめる顔色は精彩を欠いていた。
そこには知らなかった家族の姿があった。 自分だけが何も知らずにいる。いまからでも話してもらいたかった。この混乱や不安の正体を教えてほしかった。けれども、訊くことはできなかった。
「お兄ちゃんもお母さんも、ちょっと落ち着いてよ」
自分の発言にこれっぽちも力がないことはわかっていた。なぜそうなのかはわからなかったけれど。
「俺も母さんも落ち着いてる。大人の問題なんだから黙ってろ」
なるほど、これは家族の問題ではなく大人の問題だ——自分の言葉が力を持たぬ理由を兄は教えてくれた。
遥は家を飛び出した。冴えわたる空に向かって叫ぼうとしたが、人目をはばかる自分が声を出すことを許さない。しかたなく空を見上げ、鼻先に冷たい風を受けながら声を殺して泣いた。体温が涙となって体の外へ出てゆく。喉は焼き切れそうなほど熱を帯びていた。
ポケットのスマホが鳴った。親友からかかってきたその電話は、まるで訃報が届いたかのような重い無音状態が続く。
「……ダメだった」
二十秒ほどして、ゆうなのかすれ声がした。
「ごめん。ゆうな、今、ちょっと。また……電話する」
遥は通話を切った。「ごめん」と心の中で繰り返しながら。自分だけ受かってごめん。今それどころじゃなくてごめん。ごめん、ごめん、という無意味な謝罪が頭の中で止まらなかった。結局、ゆうなにかけ直すことはなかった。
——ゆうなが落ちた。
合格発表の翌日、クラスメイトから聞いた遥は目を見開いた。「落ちた」というのは、ゆうながマンションのベランダから落ちたという意味だった。
かわいそうに。よっぽどショックだったんだね。
みんな自分のことのように悲痛を浮かべながら、口調は他人事のようだった。担任によると、命に別状はないそうだが腕と足首を骨折したらしい。最終的に、ゆうなは卒業式にも出席しなかった。

◇十一月二十五日の朝はどんよりした空から雨がぱらついた。リビングの窓から鈍色の天上に白い雲がたなびいているのが見える。お天気お姉さんはブラウスの上に白いモコモコのアウターを羽織って、今朝もスマイル全開だ。どうしたらこうも早朝からキラキラした瞳で笑えるのだろう。「ほら、私を見て。今が人生で最高の瞬間！」と言わんばかりに目で語りかけてくる。
遥は液晶テレビの前に突っ立っていた。キャスターの高調子な声が邪魔をして、肝心の予報が頭に入ってこない。
「お弁当。忘れないで」
声をかけた母が弁当の包みを持ちあげ、思い出させる。自習は午前中のみだが昼食は学校でとるつもりだ。あまり早く帰宅すると母が休めない。
「うん」
口を閉じたまま返事をして、再びテレビに顔を向けた。沖縄は四日間晴れるらしい。こちらはこの先三日間ずっと曇りときどき傘マーク。
「いってきます」
玄関の向こうには凛とした風が吹いている。そろそろマフラーが欲しい。めまいや頭痛をこらえながら歩く。首の後ろにのしかかる目に見えない重みが肩をつかんで離さなかった。

修学旅行に参加しない生徒は午前中だけ登校して自習する。場所は視聴覚室だ。そこは無駄に幅が広い長机が三つあり教室の後ろまで並んでいた。
「おはよう」
ゼンと目が合うと、彼にぼそっと挨拶された。入室して最前列、部屋の一番奥の席にいた彼はおぼつかない足取りで歩いてくる遥を見て不審がる。「おはよう」と、ちゃんと言い返したのに遥の口はほとんど動いておらず、その声は弱々しかった。
「具合悪いのか？」
「……ううん。だいじょうぶ」
ゼンの右隣の机に荷物を置いて席に座った。座るやいなや、うつ伏せになってしばし目を閉じた。朝はとりわけ体調が悪い。遥の絶不調を垣間見たゼンの表情はどこかすっきりしない。
「おいマジで、いつもそんなん？」
後頭部にゼンの声が降ってきた。顔を伏せたまま、「うん」と喉を鳴らす。
「それ、復活できるわけ？」
「先生が来たらね」
わずかに頭を持ち上げた遥は、ゼンのほうを向く。背中が圧迫される感じがするので机の上で突っ伏したままだ。
「頭痛くて、なんかフワフワするの。よくあることなんだけど」
「フワフワ？  てか、さっき大丈夫って言ったじゃん。嘘つくなや」
目を細めてゼンが見下ろしている。遥は片頬を机にくっつけたまま、その視線をぼんやりと眺めることしかできない。
「おでこ、冷やすといいかもよ？」
唐突に指摘されたが、言われてみれば額が熱いような気もする。冷え性なのに脳みそだけは、なぜかいつも熱い。せっかく心配してもらってもうしわけないと思いながらも、答えるのがだるくて聞き流した。それからゼンは話しかけてこなくなり、遥もまぶたを閉じてこれからに備えた。
十五分ほどして教室のドアが開き男性教員が入ってきた。遥は億劫に体を起こす。ずっと同じ姿勢でいたので、肩や肩甲骨がポキッと息をふきかえす。

入ってきた教員の佐藤は、上下ともにくすんだ紺色のジャージを着用していた。マイナーなスポーツブランドのロゴが胸元に見てとれる。まくったジャージの袖から筋肉質な腕がはちけれそうで、手にはファイルと用紙の挟まったクリップボードを持っている。
佐藤が自習の監督だと思うと、遥は萎えた。この教員は女子バレー部の顧問で、一学年に保健体育を教えている。わけても声が大きく、覇気の弱い生徒を無視できない性分のようで、佐藤の授業中は背筋をまっすぐ保っていなければならなかった。
「なあ二人とも、一生に一度しかない修学旅行なんだぞ。沖縄だぞ？  もったいないな」
機材が並ぶ教員用デスクの上に、クリップボードを置く音が小さく響く。佐藤は眉を顔の中央へ寄せて嘆いた。
「サンゴ礁の海を見たいとは思わなかったのか？」
語尾を強め質問するが、遥もゼンも黙って課題が配られるのを待っている。佐藤は、「戦争とか平和について考えるまたとない機会だったのに」と苦々しく付け加えた。
そこでゼンが、軽く咳払いをした。露骨ではなく、さりげなく喉につまった何かを取りのぞこうとしているかのようだった。思わずゼンをちらりと見た遥は笑ってしまいそうになった。彼の下まぶたはしわくちゃで、今にも白目をむきそうだ。さっさとプリントを配れ、と顔に書いてある。
「まあ、若い二人はこれからの人生で行く機会があるだろう。でもな、おまえたちのために言っておく。集団行動や他の人と協力して何かをすることを避けていると社会に出てから苦労するぞ」
いつになったら課題をくれるんだろう。遥はいらだちを口の中に溜めこんでいて、それを目の前の佐藤めがけて火吹きのごとく飛ばしてやりたかった。ゼンのほうを再度一瞥すると、いつのまにか彼はシャープペンシルを持ち、指でくるくると回している。
佐藤はクリップから紙数枚を取るとようやく前に出てきた。遥とゼンの机上にそれぞれプリントを置く。ホッチキスで留められた用紙は数学の課題だった。全部で三枚、めくっていると、となりからゼンがため息をもらした。
遥たちが課題を解き始めたのを見届けると、佐藤は教員席に戻りファイルを開いて保健のレポートを採点しはじめた。まだ脳がフル回転できず、解くスピードこそ遅かったものの、遥は滞りなくペンを走らせた。一方、ゼンは書いては消してを繰り返し、解答に立ち往生している。順調に方程式を解いていた遥の真横から、コンコンと机を小突くような音が聞こえ集中が途切れた。何事かと左を向くと、ゼンが机を指で突いている。
「数学とくい？」
顔をわずかに伸ばしたゼンは、ささめいた。遥は手を止めて彼のほうを見ながら、少し答えを考えてうなずく。なぜか舌打ちされた。
「上原。カンニングするな！」
抜け目のない佐藤にたしなめられて、ゼンはついに白目を剥いた。軽く姿勢を正したが、すぐに力を抜いていつものように猫背になる。
時計の針は進み、一限目がまもなく終わるころ、佐藤は「よいしょー」と祭りの声掛けよろしく合図した。
「自習の最後に他の課題とまとめて出してもらうんで、それは取っといてくれ」
ちょうどチャイムが鳴った。ゼンは早々にシャープペンをペンケースへ放り込む。
「修学旅行より課題をやりたいなんて、おまえらも物好きだよな！」
肩幅に両足をひらき、腰に手をあてて、佐藤は豪快にほほえんだ。遥の顔に影が差す。自分の意志で不参加を決めたけれど、両手をあげて、ばんざいしながら自習をしているわけではなかった。

遥の身体も通学時に比べて少し慣れてきたのか、休み時間にトイレから戻ると、うつぶせになることはなくなっていた。席についてぼんやりすると、意図せず佐藤から言われたさまざまが思い返された。朝のように首をうなだれていなかったからか、ゼンはスマホに顔を向けたまま声をかけてきた。偶然にも一限目のことを蒸し返す。
「先生のバイアス、えげつなかったよね。修学旅行に行かないくらいでさ。義務じゃないのに」
腹立ちまぎれに語尾を持ちあげたゼンに共感するところはある。あるのだが、佐藤は皮肉こそまじえていながらも、自分たちを案じて忠告してくれていたと遥は思う。悪いのは自分なのではないか、嫌な気持ちにさせられたのは自業自得なのだと。
「わたしたちは、枠からはみ出た存在なのかも……」
自然につぶやいて、遥はゼンを見る。とたんに気まずいと感じたのは、彼も真顔でこちらをじっと見ていたからだ。
「ごめん、『わたしたち』とか言って。上原くんとわたしは違うのに」
うつむくと、それ以上は口をつぐんだ。その折、教室正面のドアが開いた。 遥の頭が持ち上がる。視線の先に立っている人物を見て呆然となる。
「どうも」
無味乾燥とした挨拶が床に落ちた。宮野は入室すると、静かな物腰で教員用のデスクに荷物を置く。
遥はゼンと顔を見合わせた。しれっとしながら宮野はファイルを開き、課題の準備を進める。ちょうどよく始業のチャイムが鳴った。
「では、どうぞ」と促すと英語の課題を配った。ところが遥はすぐに応答できずポカンとし、ゼンは口をあんぐり開けていた。巷のテレビ番組でよくみる、ドッキリが成功したときの一幕みたいだ。もっとも宮野はサプライズを仕掛けたつもりもなかったのだろう。固まる二人を見て、不思議そうに首をひねった。
「なにか？」
「佐藤先生との差がありすぎて。俺たちさっきまで修学旅行に行かないことをああだこうだってディスられてたから」
最初にゼンが説明したが、宮野はけげんな面持ちを保っていた。それで遥が補足して話すと、訳を聞いた宮野は伏し目がちになり黙りこんだ。ややあって、両手を後ろに組んで言う。
「佐藤先生の意見はごく常識的だとも思いますが。でも根本さんと上原くんが違和感を覚えたのなら、佐藤先生に反論してみてもよかったのではありませんか？」
そうしたところで佐藤はきっと倍の熱量をもって言い返すだろう。遥はもどかしかった。するとゼンが眉を寄せながら投げやりな声を出す。
「ムダだよ。どうせこっちの言い分なんか聞く気ないんだから。黙って嵐が去るのを待つほうがいい」
内心でうなずいた遥の頭をよぎったのは一家の口論だった。数年前、父と隼斗は売り言葉に買い言葉で、口げんかを繰り返していた。仲裁に入った母に対して、父は「黙っていろ」と歯牙にもかけない。それを見た隼斗はさらに噛みつき会話はもつれ、しまいには物に当たる息子を父が喝破して終わる。中学生のとき、遥が一度だけ止めに入ったことがあったがあっけなく黙殺された。そんな苦い経験がよみがえったとき、ゼンが横からささやいた。
「なぁ、宮野先生、笑ってない？」
視線を移すと、宮野はうっすらと楽しげな含み笑いを浮かべている。
「先生なんで笑ってるんですか？」
ゼンが問うと、宮野のゆるんだ表情はぴしゃりと真顔になった。
「私も高校生のころ、上原くんと同じことを考えていたので思い出したんです」
「先生はどんな高校生だったんですか？」
遥はゼンの質問に宮野がなんと答えるのか、かなり興味があった。
「中高一貫の男子校だったんですが、あまり好きではなかったです」
好きになれなかった理由として、集団行動を乱すことが許されない軍隊のような環境だったからだと述べた。好きではないのに通っていたのは、親が決めたことだったからだという。
「担任から環境に適応できていないとしばしば注意されました。でもあるとき、こんなふうに思いはじめました。最善をつくしても適応できないような環境なら、それは自分にふさわしい場所じゃないんです」
とはいえ、どうやって自分にふさわしい場所を探せばいいのか。それが問題なの、と遥は晴れやかでない。同時にこの世界のどこにも、自分が幸せになれる場所はないとも思っていた。もっと言えば、自分は幸せになっていいのかと自問している。
「そろそろ課題をやってくれますか」
片方の手のひらを向けながら、宮野は対話の幕引きをする。名残惜しそうに口を尖らせながら、ゼンはシャーペンをにぎった。遥もプリントに名前を記入し、問題を解きはじめた。しかし注意力が散漫になり、英文が頭に入ってこない。十分以上経ってゼンが一枚目を解き終えたとき、まだ一問も解いていなかった。
アルファベットの書体を瞳に映しながらまったく別のことを考え続けていた。昨晩、父からLINEでお茶の誘いがあったこと。内緒で会っていることが、又聞きで母にばれているかもしれないのに。次こそは、父に言おうと思っていること。離婚したら、もう会わないから——。

「根本さん」
目の前から自分の名前を呼ぶ低い声がして、遥の意識は呼び戻された。まばたきをして視線を上げると、教員席で仕事をしていた宮野が手を止めてこっちを見ている。
「体調が悪ければ保健室で休んできてもかまいませんよ」
「……大丈夫です」
そう答えるとゼンが口を挟んだ。
「根本の大丈夫は大丈夫じゃないんです」
「ほんとうに平気です」
「どうせ成績に影響しないんだから、無理すんな」
ゼンの勧めにも、遥はかたくなに首を横に振った。授業中どんなに眠くても、頭が重くても、保健室には行ったことがない。再びプリントに向かいだす。宮野はその意思表示を見てもう声をかけてこなかった。

あとの二時間も自習監督は宮野だった。古文と現代文の課題プリントを終えると、校内に昼休みを告げるチャイムが響く。自習は午前中で終わり、帰宅するよう指示された。遥は宮野にかけよる。
「ここに残って自習してもいいですか？」
「すみません。視聴覚室は鍵をかけて戻さないといけないので」
期待を打ちくだかれたが、それはそうだ。都合よく人目を気にせず居残れはしない。
「んじゃ、俺は帰ります」
ゼンはあっさり立ち去った。彼のうしろ姿を遥はなんとなく呼び止めたくなったが、そうする理由が見つからない。
遥は宮野と視聴覚室を出た。宮野がドアに鍵をかけるのを見て質問する。
「屋上の扉の鍵は職員室にあるんですか？」
宮野は視聴覚室の鍵をポケットにしまい、落ち着いた口調で答える。
「そうですよ。生徒が職員室に入ってきても見えない場所にあります。教頭先生が管理しているんです」
さらりと内部情報を漏らす宮野に、遥は目を丸くする。
「ところで根本さん。残って自習したいと言っていましたが、お昼をちゃんと食べて少し休んでからやったほうがいいと思いますよ」
遥は黙ってうなずいた。廊下で宮野と別れ、五階の美術室へ向かう。そこは昼休みに一人になれる場所で、いつも消灯したまま床に座って弁当を食べている。選択科目として美術を履修しているので出入りには慣れており、無許可で居座ることにさほど罪悪感はなかった。
弁当を食べ終えると、床に体育座りをしながら天井を仰いだ。美術室は最上階にあるので、この壁の先には屋上がある。
その場所を、思い浮かべる。
風の吹く屋上。セーラー服姿の女子生徒が、ひとり佇んでいる。その背中に向かって、名前を呼ぶ。手を伸ばす。届きそうで、届かない。
振り向いたあの子は、泣いていた。
『遥、落ちた……どうしよう』
——はっとして、我に返る。肩がびくりと跳ねる。その声は、残響のように頭の奥を打った。
遥の閉じたまぶたが、震える。合格発表の掲示板を目にしたその一瞬で、ゆうなはすべてを奪われた。親友が負った傷は自分の傷でもあった。

自習二日目、視聴覚室に入ると、ゼンが昨日と同じ席に座っていた。イヤホンを耳にはめていたが、遥と目が合うと「よう」と声を飛ばす。
「おはよう」
とりあえず返したが、聞こえているのかあやしい。すると彼は右耳だけイヤホンを取った。
「今朝は昨日よりマシみたいだな」
「天気のせいかも。昨日は朝から雨が降ってた」
遥が自宅を出たとき、予報通り曇天だったが前日の重い雨雲は晴れて弱く日光が差しこんでいた。爽やかな秋風が前髪の隙間から額にあたるとひんやり気持ちがよかった。
「沖縄はずっと晴れみたいだね。海、青いんだろうな」
「沖縄の青はさ、特別だから。根本もいつか行ったらいいよ」
ゼンは両耳のイヤホンを取ってかばんにしまいながら続ける。
「青だけじゃなくて緑とか紺色とか混じってるんだよ。透明で、サンゴも小さい魚も、海の底まで見える。マジだよ」
頬杖をつきながら、ゼンは言葉の最後で控えめにほほえんだ。
「わたし、サンゴ礁の海って写真でしか見たことないの」
遥は席に座ると、ゼンのほうに体を向けた。
「沖縄の海はさ、きれいと残酷が混ざってるんだよ」
「残酷ってどういうこと？」
ゼンの表情からは笑みが消えた。遠くの水平線を眺めるように教室の空間を見つめながら、親戚を訪ねたときのことを語りだす。
「叔父さんが漁師だったんだけど、やめたんだ。食用の魚が取れなくなったから」
「どうして取れなくなったの？」
「わからない。魚がめっきり減って。でもその代わりに観光客がたくさん来るようになったから、グラスボートの船を出す仕事を始めた」
「グラスボートって何？」
「船底がガラス張りになってるボート。サンゴ礁の海が見えるんだよ。俺は何回も乗せてもらった」
説明を聞いて、以前テレビで観たことを想起する。コバルトブルーの海面にたゆたうボートに乗った芸能人が海中の景色を楽しんでいた。
「小学生のときさ、真っ白なサンゴ礁を見たわけ。あんまりよく見えるから笑ったら、叔父さん言ってたよ。みんな死んでるんだって」
ゼンの口から出てきたのは、楽しい思い出などではない。「きれいと残酷」の意味がわかった遥は、安易に言葉を発することができなくなった。
「『サンゴは死ぬと真っ白になる。なんくるならんね』って叔父さんに言われたあとにさ、へらへら笑ってた自分をぶん殴りたくなった」
「それって沖縄の言葉だよね。なんくるないさ……じゃなかったけ？」
うろおぼえで遥が尋ねると、ゼンはすぐさま言い返した。
「なんでもかんでも、ナンクルナイって笑っていられるわけじゃない。親戚の家に遊びに行くと、大人はいつも言ってた。海のことも基地のことも、なんくるならないって」
そのとき、遥はゼンの口調にそこはかとないイントネーションの変化を感じとった。ひょっとすると、ふだん彼が学校でしゃべっていることばは、本来の彼なりの話し方を押し殺したものなのかもしれない。
「おじいは家族も友だちもみんな死んだのに、戦争が終わったら米軍基地で働くしかなかったって。基地があるから生活してこれたっていうんだ。今でもずっと変わらない」
「今でも？」
「そうさ。基地（ベース）の中やすぐ近くで働いてる人がいっぱいる。基地がなくなったら、その人たちは、仕事なくなるじゃん」
「でも、沖縄の人たちは基地に反対なんじゃないの？」
「戦争はもちろんダメだし、基地もなくなってほしいけど、でも基地がなくなればいいって単純なことじゃなくてさ。俺は、思うわけ。沖縄のために日本のどこかの人たちが、痛みを引き受けてくれるのかなって。基地問題ってそういうことだろ？  それに親戚にアメリカ人がいるんだけど、優しくていい人だよ」
アメリカ海軍の軍人だというその人は、母方の伯母の夫だという。結婚して浦添からサンディエゴに移り住んだそうだ。
修学旅行には行けなかったが、遥も事前学習で沖縄戦や基地問題については学習ずみだった。だがその実、身近に感じることができないし、いまいちピンとこなかった。こうして彼の口から直接聞くまでは。
「ごめん。暗くなったな」
ゼンはつぶやいて、無理をした印象で小さく笑った。遥は首を横に振る。
「俺、沖縄が好きなんだ。テレビとかネットのニュースで流れてるとすごく気になる」
「……うん」
「俺には沖縄の血が流れてるのに、行くとヨソの人になる。自分はわかったふりをして、沖縄の本当のことをよく知らない。それがムカムカするっていうか」
「だから、上原くんは修学旅行に行きたくなかったの？」
「それだけじゃない。でも、クラスの人に俺の親が沖縄出身って知られたくなかった。色々聞かれても答えられないし。かといって全部隠したまま、平然と観光してる自分も想像できないし、そんなの許せないさァ……」
ゼンは言葉尻をにごすと、ちらっと遥に視線を向けた。
「やっぱ暗い話しちゃったね。はい、やめ」
気にしないでくれ、とゼンが締めくくったとき、遥は急にゼンとの距離が遠くなったように感じた。
会話は途絶え、沈黙が生じたときだった。十分ほど遅れた自習監督が入ってきた。

「根本さん、上原くん、おはようございます」
ドアのそばにたたずむのは、宮野だった。遥は顔に出さず、しかし心底面食らう。
「遅刻ですよ。ていうか、また先生なの？」
ゼンの声はさっきまでの低音ではなく、いつもの飄々とした軽さがあった。わずかに歓喜を忍ばせているようにも受けとれる。聞けば、宮野は三日間の監督をすることになっていたという。初日の一限目は三年生の授業とかぶり、代わりに佐藤にお願いしたらしい。
「ふーん。先生って暇なんですか？」
「まぁ、正規の先生方にくらべたらよほど楽ですけど」
「へー。なんで遅刻したんですか？」
「ちょっと、職員室で打ち合わせをしてまして」
遥の黒目は、教員と男子生徒を行ったり来たりする。宮野に対するゼンの手慣れた態度を見ているうちに、自然体で親しげに会話する彼らが羨ましくなってきた。
「……宮野先生って、他の先生たちと違うんですか？」
今度は遥が質問をする。
「私は一年間の勤務契約です」
「じゃあ、来年はもうこの学校にいないんですか？」
「まだわかりません。でもいない可能性のほうが高いです」
宮野はさっぱりした口調で答えた。この人もまた、いなくなるのか。大なり小なり程度の差こそあれ、遥は別れというものに対して忌避感があった。出会いがあれば別れもある。そんなあたりまえのことに高校生にもなって免疫がなかった。別れなければいけないなら、出会いなどないほうがいいとさえ思う。
「よっしゃ。歴史じゃん」
ゼンのうれしそうな声が思案をめぐらせる頭の中に聞こえてきた。社会科の課題を前に瞳がきらきらと光る。そんな彼が急に幼く見えたので、遥は少しばかり頬がゆるんだ。

自習時間が終わると、ゼンはさっさと荷物をまとめて昨日と同じように視聴覚室を出ようとする。ここには残れないと知った遥も、一緒に退室した。
最終日の明日は課題がなく、各自好きな勉強をしてよいとのことだった。職員室に戻る宮野は教室の鍵を閉め、遥たちとは反対方向に去ってゆく。廊下を歩いていると、前にいたゼンが突然振り返った。遥は驚いて急停止する。ポケットに手を入れながらゼンは何か言いたげだ。
「根本って、いつも昼メシどうしてるの？」
要するに昼休みをどこで誰と過ごしているかという質問だった。遥は口の中で言葉がぐるぐると踊った。美術室のすみっこに隠れて一人でお弁当を食べている、なんてとても言えない。
「教室でお弁当を食べてるけど」
渾身の嘘をついてしまった負い目を感じながら、そう答える以外の選択肢がなかった。
「じゃあ、今日は？」
「このまま帰る」
これも嘘だ。早く帰宅しすぎると、家で一人過ごす母が休めなくなってしまう。
「そうなんだ」
そっけなく返すと、ゼンは再び前を向いて歩きだした。ここで遥はまずいと気がついた。ゼンは昇降口へ向かっており、自分も帰ると言ったのだから、同じ方向に歩かなければ不自然だ。
「上原くん。ちょっと教室に用があるから」
遥が呼びとめると、ゼンの背中はくるりと向きなおった。
「ほんとに教室？  どーせまた屋上でしょ」
いたずらっぽく口角を上げたゼンは、「じゃあね」と軽くなげて離れてゆく。遠ざかる背中を見つめ、謝罪の念を送ってみたところでにごった心境は変わりはしない。隠しごとは疲れる。父は長い間、家族に不貞を隠し通してきたのだから大したものだと感心してしまう。

翌朝は通学時間帯から青空が広がった。三日前の天気予報が外れたようで、うっすらと筋状の雲があるものの、ほぼ抜けるような快晴だ。電車から降りると、凛とした空気と暖かい日差しが遥を包みこむ。空を仰ぎ、目をこらしてみると、その青さにめまいがする。けれどもそのめまいは、視界の奥でアスファルトが渦巻いているいつもの立ちくらみとは違う。まるで、かかとが浮いて身体ごと青空の中に吸いこまれていくみたいだった。
視聴覚室へ入る。やはりゼンは一番乗りだ。
「今日は晴れたから調子いいの？」
ゼンが頬杖をつきながら尋ねる。
「悪くはないかな」
「天気をみれば根本の体調が大方わかるわけだ。便利だね」
「午後の授業がないおかげもあると思う」
まもなくして宮野がやってくると、課題なしの自習時間がスタートした。遥は来月の期末試験の勉強をはじめたが、となりを見るとゼンは数学の問題集を開きながら解答には目もくれず本を読んでいる。
時間も残り一時間を切ったころだった。宮野が二人に話しかけた。
「自習はそこまでにして少し話をするのはどうですか？」
そのように言われ、遥はつい真横に顔を向けた。
「どんな話ですか？」
ゼンが質問する。宮野は両肘を机につき、手を組みながら低い声を落とした。
「君たちは、修学旅行に行かなかったことを本当に後悔していませんか？」
遥は口を結んだままだ。ゼンもすぐには答えない。なんとなく、空気は暗澹としはじめた。
「先生も佐藤先生と同じ意見なんですか。俺たちが、もったいないことしたって思ってるんですか？」
ゼンは挑むようなまなざしを宮野に向けて言い返す。一方で、宮野は三人の間に張り詰めた空気を和らげるような、穏やかな口調を保った。
「違いますよ。個人的な好奇心から聞きました。私も高校生のときに修学旅行に行かなかったんです。そのとき、私が行かないことで迷惑する人たちがいる、と担任は言ったんです」
遥はゼンと視線を合わせ、互いの表情が固まった。二人の反応をものともせず、宮野は先を続ける。
「『迷惑する人たちとは誰のことですか？』と私は尋ねました。そして、担任はこう言ったんです。『皆が楽しい思い出を作ろうとしているなかで、おまえはその輪を乱していることに気がつかないのか？』と」
胸の奥で、なにかがパチパチとはぜた。不満、納得のいかなさ、反感——うまく言えないさまざまな気持ちが小さく火花を散らすような。自分になにが起きたのか、遥自身にもわからなかった。ただ、体の奥深くから鼓動が強くうなるのを感じる。頭で考えるより先に、背中を叩かれた反動のように声を発した。
「思い出は作るものじゃなくて、あとからふりかえってできるものだと思うんです。それに他人の楽しい思い出のために、自分を犠牲にするのは違うんじゃないかな」
宮野は眉を高くした。ゼンは遥に顔を向ける。双方の視線、臆してしまいそうな心を抱きしめて、ぐっと唾を飲みこんだ。
「わたしは全然、後悔とかしてないです。むしろ、上原くんと宮野先生とここで自習をしたことは、いい思い出です」
伝えたかったこと、伝わらなかったこと、それは常に両方あって、どちらかが０になることも100になることもない。うまく話せたとは思えなくても、自分の考えが声となって手から離れたことで、遥はすがすがしい気持ちを味わった。
「みんなと同じように修学旅行へ行くより、ある意味こっちのほうが特別な思い出じゃん。だって学年で二人だけなんだぜ」
ゼンの解釈は楽観的だ。呼応するように、遥は肩の力が抜けた。

「……まあ、たしかに。これは特別だと思います」
一瞬の和んだ雰囲気は、宮野の意味深なつぶやきで打ち切られた。彼はあいまいな言葉を残して、カバンの中に手を入れ、一本の鍵を取りだした。
「君たちに自習貫徹のごほうびがあるんです。もしよければ、今から行きますか？」
行くか、と聞かれても、いったいどこに行くというのだろう。遥の頭上には疑問符が浮上したが、ゼンはハッと息を吸って止めるとつぶやいた。
「まさか、屋上の鍵だったりして」
「ご明察です」と宮野は目を細める。昨日、教頭先生から許可をもらい鍵をあずかってきたのだという。
「だってよ、根本どうすんの？」
質問が飛んできた。てっきりゼンはこのまま話を進めるのかと思ったが、どうやら遥の意見を気にしているらしい。屋上へ出ることを何度、夢見てきただろう。その扉は、大人の助けがなければ開かれない。絶対に自分ひとりの力では開けられない扉。それがいま、開かれようとしている。二度とないチャンスかもしれなかった。
ところが遥は机上を見つめて黙りこんだ。いざ行こうとすると恐怖が込みあげてくる。その怖さの正体はわからない。ただ、屋上に行けば、過去の記憶と未来への不安が自分を打ちのめすような予感がして、緊張してしまう。苦悶するなか、コンコンと机を指で小突く音が聞こえ横を向いた。
「俺どっちでもいいよ。根本が決めなよ」
根本に任せる。ゼンはそう言った。

校舎の北側、立ち入り禁止の看板のある階段の先に、生徒たちから忘れ去られた殺風景があった。
「君たち、よくこんなところに居られますね」
宮野は長い階段を上ってきて少し息を切らしたようだ。腰に手を当てながら階段の踊り場に冷たい視線を落とす。
「居心地いいですよ」
ゼンは遥に「なっ」と視線を向けた。
「うん。落ち着くよね」
遥が同意すると、宮野は苦笑を浮かべる。ポケットから鍵を取り出すと、ストラップ部分をつまんで差しだした。
「自分たちで開けてください」
遥は宮野から鍵を受け取る。くくりつけられたストラップのプレートには、「屋上」とシールが貼られていた。手のひらに乗せたその鍵には魔力が宿っていて、見澄ますと胸の奥が速く脈打つのがわかった。
「どっちが開けるの？」
ゼンから声をかけられた遥は、あわてたように視線を移した。
「わたしが開けていいんじゃないの？」
ここまで一任されたのだ。鍵だって自分が開けるものと決めこんでいた。
「いやいや、ここはジャンケンだよね」
遥はゼンの提案にたじろぎつつも、うなずくしかなかった。
宮野は腕を組み、踊り場の壁に背中をあずけて二人の勝負を見守る。結果は遥の勝ちだった。やった、と小さく喜び安堵のため息をつく。ところが間髪をはさまず、ゼンが三回勝負を持ちかけた。度重なる予想外の展開に黙ったまま黒目をななめ下へ向ける。ノーを突きつけたつもりだったが、ゼンには届いておらず、第二回戦をやる気満々だった。
「わかった」
しぶしぶ了解して三回勝負となった。これまでゼンには全勝していたが、さすがに負けてしまうかもしれない。
しかし心配は杞憂に終わり、結局遥のストレート勝ちだった。勝敗はほぼ運で決まるはずだが、だとしても、はなはだしくゼンはジャンケンが弱い。彼はふてくされたが負けは負け。さっさと開けよう、と切り替えが早かった。
「一緒に開けよう」
「は？  一緒にって、正気」
そんなやりとりをギャラリー席から見物していた宮野は、声こそ出さなかったものの、さすがに笑いを隠せなくなっていた。最終的に、ゼンが鍵を押し込んで開錠し、遥がドアノブを押し開けることになった。

階段の踊り場に舞うホコリが太陽光に迎えられてキラキラと浮遊する。扉は開かれた。澄んだ空気が遥の顔を撫でる。風は弱く、空は高い。遥とゼンは青空に向かって駆けだした。
遥はあごを突き上げ、鼻先にそよぐ風を感じた。前髪がなびく。目を閉じると白いまぶたの裏側に太陽の光がしみる。
「空以外なんもないじゃん。久しぶりに見たさ、こんな広くて青いの」
ゼンは遥のとなりに立ち、感嘆の声を漏らす。
「おじいの葬式の日みたいだ。沖縄は雲が多いんだけど。あのときはでーじ（とても）、晴れててさ。その青空を見てたら、俺も死にたくなったんだよ」
落ち着いた声に混じった明朗さは少しだけわざとらしい。寂しさを隠そうとするかのようだった。ゼンの言葉の端々から、祖父が彼にとってどれほど大切な存在だったのか、遥には痛いほど伝わってきた。
「認めたくなくて。泣けなくて、葬式も出なかった。出たくなかった。あれから一度も行ってない。でも、いまちょっと行きたい、沖縄」
ゼンはわずかに歯をのぞかせた。遥には、その横顔が切なそうにほほえんでいるように見えた。
「まくとぅそーけーなんくるないさ。おじいは俺によく言ってた。やっぱりあれは魔法の言葉なんだ」
遥はゼンから視線をそらし、再び青空に顔を向けた。
遠くを据えて、そっと口を開いた。
「……わたしの通ってた中学ってね、昼休みになると屋上が使えたの。ベンチとかテーブルがあって、いつも友だちとお弁当を食べてた。親友だった」
「なるほど。だから根本はここに来たかったんだな」
合点がいったとゼンは口元を引く。
「でも、わたしのせいで……その子に会えなくなっちゃった」
息がつまった。続きを話そうとすると喉が痛い。目に映る空の青が、だんだんとにじんでいった。
「わたしのせい。全部、わたしがわるいの。でもね、どうしたらよかったのか、わからないの。あの時、どうするのが正解だったのかな……」
声が震え、言葉の最後が風にさらわれる。ゼンに見られていることに気づいた遥は、手の甲で目元を覆った。暗闇になった視界に、彼の声だけがまっすぐ届いた。
「正解なんて誰にもわからないじゃん。だから根本は間違ってないんだよ。正解がわかんないんだったら、自分にバツつけんなよ」
その言葉が胸の奥に届いた瞬間、涙は止めどなくこぼれ落ちた。セーターの袖でぬぐう。顔を上げたそのとき——

遥は目を見開いた。

屋上の端に、セーラー服姿の女の子がぽつんと立っていた。季節外れの夏服。緋色のスカーフが揺れ、髪がふわりとなびく。空を見上げていたその子は、ゆっくりと遥の方へ顔を向け、穏やかな笑みを浮かべた。
風が吹き抜けるたびに、彼女の輪郭が少しずつ淡くなっていく。苦しそうでも、悲しそうでもない。ほっとしたように、澄んだ空気に溶けていく。
それは、過去の自分だった。
遥は理解する。つらい思い出を手放すことは、親友を裏切ることじゃない。
過去に置き去りにされた自分を迎えに行って、救ってあげられるのは、自分だけなのかもしれない。
最後にもう一度だけ笑ったように見えた女の子は、柔らかく姿を消した。

「……晴れましたね。さっきまで、曇っていたのに」
声のする方へ顔を向けると、宮野が立っていた。屋上に出てきたばかりのようで、慣れない様子で手をひさしにしている。
「先生。来たんですか？  あっちで『太陽だいきらい』みたいな顔してましたよね」
ゼンが茶化すように言うと、宮野は少しだけ笑った。
「得意ではないです。でも、たまには。君たちを見ていたら、外へ出てみようかという思いになりました」
その言葉に、ゼンはにんまりと目を細めた。
「なんか俺、今すごい自由になった気分なんです」
「上原くんはいつだって自由です。自分を不自由にするものは自分だけなので」
空を遮るものは何もない。青の下、学校の一番高いところにいる。青雲を見つめながら遥が言った。
「わたし、わかった。ここには過去も未来もなかった」
「根本？」
ゼンは不思議そうに声をかけた。遥は空に手をかざす。
「わたしは、いまここにいるんだって。それがすべて」
どこまでも広がる青空は、過去も未来も持たない。 ただ、いまの遥を包んでいた。

◇駅近くの繁華街にあるパーラー・クリオ。なぜ父がいつもこの喫茶店でお茶をしたがるのか、遥にはずいぶん前から察しがついていた。小学校低学年のころ、家族でよく訪れていたからだ。週末の買い物帰り、隼斗が野球部で活躍したお祝い、母の日、父の日、子どもの日。遥はここの苺ミルフィーユが好物で、隼斗はモンブランが好きだった。母は期間限定のケーキを楽しみにしていたし、コーヒーにうるさい父は、家では挽きたてのブレンドが飲めないからと多弁だった。家族の歴史が刻まれた喫茶店の木のドアを押す。温かみのあるベルの音が迎えてくれた。
焙煎された豆の香りが鼻をくすぐる。会話を妨げない音量でジャズが流れている。店の右側を見回すと、いつものエリアに父が座ってブラックをすすっていた。
土曜日の午後四時半、ティータイムのピークを過ぎた店内には人影もまばらだった。二人で会うようになってから、遥は苺ミルフィーユを注文しなくなった。店員にカフェオレを頼み、父の様子をうかがう。最近は髭もきちんと剃るようになり、行き詰まっていた仕事も順調そうだ。むしろ以前より生き生きとして見える。
「今日、お父さんに聞いてほしいことがある」
いつもは飾り物のようにおとなしく座っている遥が先に口を開いた。どうしたんだ？  と問う父の声色は、不安と期待がないまぜになった印象を受ける。
「引っ越したらもう会わない」
ピアノとサックスが手を取り合ってダンスするようにメロディーを奏でている。小さい頃は椅子に座ると靴底が床につかなくて、リズムに合わせて足をばたつかせたり、頭を動かしながらミルフィーユをほおばっていた。今の自分には、しっくりこない背景音楽だと感じる。しばしの沈黙を置いたのち、父はどうしてなのかと尋ねてきた。
「お母さんと新しい生活を始めるから」
「だからって。ずっと遠くへ引っ越すわけじゃないだろう。学校からも近いらしいじゃないか」
そう言うと、父は遥が生まれたときのことを語りはじめた。隼斗と三人家族だったマンション暮らしから心機一転、新しい家族のためにローンを組んで買った我が家のことだ。遥も愛着があったのだろうが、親の都合で引っ越すことになり悪かったな——判を押したような弁明は長い。
過去の思い出なら、このまま夜明けまで語っていられるかもしれなかった。それがきっと、父なりの謝罪なのだと遥は気づいた。けれど弁明は、幸せだった時の家族への執着にも思えた。過去の失敗を取り戻そうとしているようでありながら、ただ甘い思い出に浸っているだけのようにも見える。家族が再び一緒になれる未来を期待して待つより、遥は新しい生活を選びたかった。
「お父さん、わたしの話ちゃんと聞いてる？」
顔を引き締めながら父の瞳をまっすぐ射抜く。ちょうどそこにカフェラテが運ばれてきたが、遥は視線をそらさなかった。
「昔の話は関係ないでしょ」
そんな怖い顔するなよ。調子のはずれた声は裏返った。父はこの場を笑ってかいくぐろうとしている。
「みんなの問題だろう。遥は家族が解散しちゃってもいいのか？」
これは大人の問題だと隼斗からは諭された。伝えるべきか迷ったが、父はこちらを見向きもしていない。
「なぁ遥、お父さんは、どうしたらみんなに許してもらえるんだろう？」
もう一度やり直したい、と父は言う。頼りなくすがるような姿に少し前の自分を重ねた。しかしどうしても理解できなかった。父にとって家族がどういう意味をもっているのかが。遥はグラスの水を一口飲み、荷物をまとめる。
「わたし、もう行く」
「高校は楽しいか？」
引きとめられた遥はぴたりと動きが止まった。下唇を噛んでからテーブルの上のマグカップを一瞥する。
「……じゃあ」
足早に店を出る。「自分を不自由にするものは自分だけ」という宮野の言葉を思い返しながら、遥はドアを押した。年季の入った扉が軋んだ。ベルの音が頭のうしろで聞こえる。
歩きながら、唇の隙間がしょっぱいと感じた。頬に当たる風がやけに寒いのは皮膚がぬれているからだろう。夕暮れの空を見上げる。新しい場所へ旅立つのか、それとも元いた場所へ帰るのか、鳥たちが空を裂くように列をなして飛んでゆく。自由になる瞬間は、風が強くなる気がした。

修学旅行が終わって、もうすぐ一週間が経とうとしていた。午前中の授業が終わると、遥は弁当を手に社会科準備室へ向かった。
そこにはゼンがいた。彼は教員の許可をもらい、昼休みをこの部屋で過ごせるようになったのだという。そのことを伝えに来たとき、「来たら？」と遥にも声をかけてくれた。それ以来、この教室は、ふたりにとって新しい静かな居場所になっていた。
遥はランチトートから個包装のお菓子をひとつ取りだす。
「ちんすこう」
ゼンはすぐにそれが何かを察して、とびつきは早かった。
「クラスの子からお土産。いっぱいもらって。半分食べる？」
「うん」
封を開けてゼンに近づけると、彼は二枚のうち一枚を取って食べた。遥も一口かじる。甘さは控えめで、口の中でとろけた。
「この前、初めて食べて感動したよ。こんなに美味しいクッキー食べたことない」
素直な感想を述べた。ゼンはペットボトルのジャスミンティーを飲む。たしかに、このお菓子はうまいが喉が渇く。「クッキー？」と、つぶやいてから彼は続けた。
「これ豚の脂だよ」
遥のまぶたがカッと見開いたので、ゼンはほくそ笑む。遥がパッケージを凝視していると、ゼンはきっかけを得たとばかりに切り出した。
「俺さ、冬休みに沖縄帰ることにした」
祖父をまだ送っていない。遅くなったことをあやまりたいのと、今の自分を見せたいのだとゼンは吐露した。慕っていた祖父は中学卒業の直後に亡くなった。その当時、両親と沖縄に行ったものの、葬儀の当日に姿を消したゼンは浜辺でずっと海を眺めていたという。
「お祖父さん、きっと喜ぶと思う」
遥はそっと声を落とした。お土産にちんすこうを買ってきてやるよ、とゼンはいつものように屈託なく言う。
「そっちもよかったな、最近は体調ましみたいで」
「うん、まし」
その言葉を口にするのは、まだ少し怖かった。 それでも言えるようになったのは、母が変わろうとしてくれたからだ。
修学旅行の引率から戻った中条が、母宛の手紙とあわせてスクールカウンセラーを紹介してくれた。
『気がつかなくてごめんなさい。もう、がまんしなくていいから』
それは母が初めてした謝罪だった。思いもよらないことだったが、本当はその言葉をずっと待っていたような気もする。新しいマンションは、母と二人で選んだ。学校まで歩いて行ける距離で、バスも頻繁に出ている。なにより、満員電車から解放されることが救いだった。
「そういえば、根本って文理選択どっちにした？」
食べ終えた弁当を包みながら、ゼンが尋ねてきた。
「理系だよ、上原くんは？」
「文系」
「歴史が好きだからだよね？」
遥は箸をケースにしまいながら問う。
「うん。あと、歴史研究部を復活させようかなって」
宮野に相談しているそうだが、部員がまだいないのだという。とりあえず掲示物でも作って、入部希望者を募るつもりだとゼンは話を畳もうとした。
「よかったら手伝おうか？」
「え、助かる。入ってくれるの？」
ありていにいえば、ゼンだったら「必要ない」と答えるだろうと踏んでいた。だが事情を聞けば、少なくとも二名の部員がいなければ正式な部活動として認めてもらえないとのことだった。
「じゃあ、仮ってことでよろしく」
入部するとは言っていない。事実上、部長になるゼンは、活動計画を次々に語りだした。言葉は跳ねるように響き、遥はそのリズムに自然と引き込まれていく。
相手にしないという選択肢もあった。けれど話を聞くうちに、少しずつ芽生える感覚があった。心の奥に、ぽっとあかりが灯るような——そんな明るさが静かに広がっていく。
今なら、部活動に憧れていた自分をほんの少しだけ許せる気がしていた。
ずっと「やりたいこと」に蓋をしてきた。自分に厳しくあることこそが、正しさだと信じていた。けれど、胸の奥に、かすかな違和感が残っていた。
どうして、こんなにも自分を罰して生きているのだろう――。
その問いを遥に差し出してくれたのは、ゼンだったのかもしれない。
『正解がわからないなら、自分にバツつけんな』
あの言葉が、ずっと封じてきた心の蓋をそっと開けた。「好き」と口にすることも、「幸せ」と感じることも、そんな感情に触れるのが怖かった。望んでいるのに、望んでいないふりをして。欲しがる自分を、見ないふりで隠していた。
だから今、自分の気持ちを否定せずにいられることが、遥には嬉しかった。その嬉しさを、「嬉しい」と素直に思えたことも。誰かに見せるためでも、自慢するためでもなく、ただ、自分のために。

十六年間暮らした我が家での最後のクリスマス・イブ。かつて家族四人がいた空間には、母と娘の二人だけがいた。年明けの引っ越し準備は粛々と進んでいる。片付けと断捨離の結果、慣れ親しんだ家の中もさまがわりした。
「いってくるね」
赤いチェックのマフラーをしっかり巻いて身支度を整えた遥は、キッチンの母に一声かけた。
「いってらっしゃい」
母は顔だけを向けて答えた。鍋の中では野菜と鶏肉が煮立っている。夕飯はクリームシチューだとか。帰ってくるころには、バターとミルクの香りが漂っているんだろうか。
玄関のドアを開けると北風が顔に吹きつけた。木枯らしが、サッと前髪を持ちあげる。近所のケーキ屋までは散歩がてら歩いていく。自転車なら片道十分もかからない距離だが、ケーキは慎重に扱わなくては。
道すがら、未就学児とおぼしき女の子と手をつないでいる父親が前からやってきて、すれ違いざまに目で追いかけた。聖夜を待ちわびる幼い娘は、自分の手をにぎる相手がサンタクロースだとは知らない。その子はいつかの自分と似ている。前に病院で母娘を見たときのように、うらやむことはなかった。ただ、父親への願いがあった。優しいその手をどうか離さないでいて、と。

ポケットの中にあるスマホが鳴った。取り出してみるとLINEに写真が届いている。ゼンからだった。
「……きれい」
思わず声がこぼれた。ピンク色の空に淡い紫色の雲。水平線にオレンジ色の太陽が沈みかけている。神秘的なその風景に、吸い込まれそうだった。なるほど、沖縄の絶景はサンゴ礁の海や白い砂浜だけではない。手つかずの風光明媚をふるさとにもつゼンが羨ましく思える。
遥はその写真を、新しい待受画面に設定した。これまでの真っ青な海原と新緑の岬の写真も気に入っていたけれど、今の季節には、新しい写真のほうが似合う気がする。スマホをポケットにしまい、再び歩きだす。
ケーキ屋は、かきいれどきとあって客足がたえない。店に入ろうとすると、ステンドガラスのドアが開いて三人の少女がうれしげに出てきた。目の前に現れた彼女に遥は声を呑む。
向こうもはっとしたように目を丸くして遥を見つめた。
「ゆうな、どうしたの？」
一緒にいた少女が言った。
遥とゆうなは、互いに顔を見合わせ、どちらも言葉が出ない。中学時代はボブヘアだったが、伸びて毛先を巻き、ずいぶんと垢抜けている。ゆうなには、いまの自分がどんなふうに見えているのだろう。
「知り合い？」
向かい側で、少女がゆうなに尋ねる。
「……うん」
久しぶりに聞く声は、穏やかだった。
「友だち」
その言葉に、遥の瞳がわずかに揺れる。
ゆうなは少女たちと歩きだす。けれどすぐに踵を返し、軽く一言を投げかけた。
「メリークリスマス。またね、遥」
ぎこちなく、屈託のない懐かしい笑顔がぱっと咲く。
「メリークリスマス」
遥も小さく返して胸元でそっと手を振る。またね、と声を出さずに唇だけ動かした。ごめんねよりも、ありがとうや、大好きだよが、こみ上げてくる。
想像していた再会とは違う。自然な口調で、ゆうなは友だちだと言ってくれた。「遥」と呼んでくれた。
いまでもちゃんと、友だちだった。
瞳に焼きつけるように、あの笑顔をもう忘れることがないように。
ゆうなに別れを告げて、遥は前を向く。見上げた空は、冬の夕暮れ。澄みきっていて、どこまでも広がっていた。

おわり

作者｜Watanabe Kaho
日本生まれ。写真、言葉、音声表現を通して、回復と祈りを主題に制作している。

The Blue Above

Contents

Characters

Nemoto Haruka First-year high school student
Uehara Zen First-year high school student
Miyano Social studies teacher
Nakajo School nurse
Hayato Haruka's older brother
Nitta Teacher
Sato Teacher

Copyright & Terms

Chapter One  Where We Were Not Supposed to Meet

The morning sun after rain shines with particular intensity. Light spilling through thin cloud pushed the stillness of the city further out. The train slid into the station, scattering the raindrops that clung to the tracks.Inside the carriage, the air was close. Something heavy settled at the back of Haruka's chest.Haruka closed her eyes.Two girls in sailor uniforms stood on a school rooftop, looking up at an open stretch of blue."Look — the sky, it's so blue!"The girl cried out, pointing at a white streak in the distance. Her crimson scarf stirred in the wind as she turned and smiled. That laughter should have been beyond hearing by now. Haruka looked away from her smile.In the middle of the crowd, Haruka lifted her bowed head. Beyond the window, a grey expanse streamed past. She searched for some small trace of hope, but found nothing.When the doors opened and she stepped off the train, the air met her — damp, clinging. The lingering heat of late summer made the morning muggy from the start, and the moisture seemed to wrap itself around her shoes, weighing down each step. In the puddles along the pavement, the cityscape rippled, then quietly came apart.

Haruka never exchanged greetings when she entered the classroom. In the early days after starting at the school, some of the girls had called out to her, but she had turned them away, gently and consistently, until no one came near her any more."This problem — Nemoto-san."During lessons, her mind tended to sink, and she was often called on by teachers. When her surname was spoken aloud, it felt as though they were referring to someone else. She rose from her seat carrying that sense of displacement, gazed blankly at the equation on the board, and moved the chalk."Good. That's right."She had no intention of letting her grades slip. She revised every evening without fail after returning home. In the previous end-of-term examinations, she had placed fifth in her year."Nemoto-san, are you aiming for a good university?"Whenever someone asked her that, her classmates felt very far away. It was not for any practical future that she studied — it was because studying was the only thing left she could do. If she worked hard enough, surely someone was watching. Surely it might lead to a wish being granted — but that was not something she could ever say aloud. She tried to deflect with a smile, but she had forgotten how to make one.

When school ended, Haruka made her way to that place as though drawn there against her will. She climbed the staircase on the north side of the building, past the sign that read No Entry, making sure no one saw her. One step, then another — the soles of her indoor shoes pressed against the cold floor.She reached the landing that served as a storage area, and from the final turn looked up to find the door. She tried the handle — firmly locked — and leant against it when neither pushing nor pulling made any difference. A single frosted window, rectangular, looked out onto the rooftop, its view broken into fragments like a mosaic.Again today, Haruka pressed her fingertips against the door. But the hollow air seemed to say give it up, and she sank to the floor. She pulled her rucksack round to her front and rested her back against the door. She liked it here on this landing. Dusty, yes — but removed from the noise below, and the small space felt like a refuge.Then she heard it — a faint, whistling sound. It stopped, then came again, then stopped once more. A thin, repeating note, travelling to her ears. She pressed one eye to the gap of a few millimetres between the door and the frame, but could see nothing. What she noticed was that the gap had become a channel for the wind.She stood slowly and studied the door handle. She had once seen a scene in a drama where someone used the end of a hairpin to pick a lock. She had no hairpin, but she remembered she was carrying a large paper clip, and rummaged through her rucksack. From her pencil case she retrieved a clip encrusted with eraser dust, and bent it out of shape with some force. She tried to insert the sharpened tip gently into the centre of the cylinder. But the clip was too wide in diameter to fit. And even if it had gone in, a makeshift attempt like this was never going to open anything.The reality of her helplessness made her hand fall from the handle. She turned around — and caught her breath.At that moment, the rooftop door was still firmly shut. And yet a soft wind rose. Something light and clear moved through the air.

A few metres down the stairs, a male student stood with a school bag over his shoulder. Long black hair, falling across his face; narrow eyes visible through the fringe. A straight nose, clean features. Yet for all that composure, there was something about him that made approach feel difficult.Her heart gave a single hard beat. He was only looking at her, and yet warmth began to spread through her body. She did not know what to do. She could not move. For him too, this was clearly an unexpected encounter — he stood perfectly still, eyes on Haruka, as though time had stopped.It was Haruka who moved first. She seized her rucksack and ran. As she passed him, he stepped aside. The bent paper clip was left behind. She had no time to care that she had dropped it in front of the door.When had she last run at full speed? Having gone from the fifth floor all the way down to the ground, Haruka bent over, heart pounding at an alarming rate. That student was a first-year, same as her — his indoor shoes were blue. In this school, indoor shoes and gym clothes were colour-coded by year: blue for first-years, red for second, green for third. How long had he been there? She hadn't heard his footsteps at all, and she reproached herself for being so absorbed in the lock-picking.

"Oh — Nemoto-san?"A voice from behind, over her shoulder. She spun round, startled. It was Miyano, the male teacher who taught world history."You're quite out of breath. Have you been running?"He had apparently been to the vending machine — he was holding a bottle of mineral water. He stood watching Haruka quietly, taking in the rise and fall of her chest."Here. This is for you, if you'd like it. I haven't opened it."Miyano held out the bottle. Haruka was uncertain whether to take it. As she hesitated, he narrowed his eyes very slightly and tilted his head — not quite a smile, but a gesture that seemed to be quietly assessing the colour of her face.He stepped closer and extended the bottle further. It was not a forceful movement, but the meaning was clear: take it. Haruka's hand moved slowly, reluctantly, and she received it with both hands."It's still warm out. Make sure you drink."With that, he turned and left. In the few minutes since he had spoken to her, Miyano had not smiled once. She attended his world history class, but could hardly recall ever seeing him smile there either.Yabe, who taught politics and economics, always had a soft look about his eyes and was known to deliver terrible jokes — a considerable contrast, even within the same social studies department. Though the two men were also separated by something close to a generation. For his age, Miyano had little energy about him; if one were being uncharitable, his eyes could seem cold. But to call him unfriendly would be too hasty — when greeted or spoken to by students, he responded with a calm and open expression.Come to think of it, there were girls in her class who had grown flustered over Miyano, calling him mysterious and attractive. Haruka had no particular objection to their enthusiasm. It was those same girls who dismissed quiet boys like Miyano as gloomy — that was the part she found harder to accept.This was their first conversation outside the classroom, brief as it was. Miyano was a person she could not quite get a hold of. He seemed to maintain a kind of restraint towards his own emotions.The cool surface of the bottle lowered the temperature of her palms. The plastic dented where she gripped it. She shifted her rucksack to her front, unzipped it, and put the bottle inside. Then she took out her phone. When she turned the screen on, she found seven missed calls from her brother Hayato. She read one message, and unease moved through her like a wave.Mum collapsed. At the hospital now. Call me the moment you see this.If only she could pretend she hadn't seen it. She wanted to run. But she didn't know what she was running from. She could feel the soles of her feet sinking, slowly, like sand falling through an hourglass. Her heart, too, was becoming like sand — losing its form, unable to hold its shape. She wanted to scatter, to be carried off somewhere on the wind.

Mum's body is pretty worn down — stress, they're saying. She'll be in hospital for three days.Haruka was shaken to hear the word hospital. Hayato told her not to worry, but his voice over the phone was rough. He was worked up, muttering that this was their father's fault.Hayato's relationship with their parents had been tense since his high school years — with their father in particular, there had been constant friction. He had played baseball from middle school onwards, and by his first year of high school he was already in the starting lineup. He had been a boy who dreamed of Kōshien, but after injuring his right knee in the spring of his second year he began missing practice, and eventually quit the club before third year. After that came bleached hair, nights out, a period when he skipped school altogether. His disordered life settled down once university entrance exams were behind him, but he remained as quiet as ever, and his relationship with their father had grown so barren that they barely exchanged a word.

After the call ended, Haruka made her way to the hospital. Hayato had told her to go straight home, but she was too worried about their mother to do that.She got off the bus at the stop in front of the hospital and stepped into the lobby, looking left and right. She caught the eye of a member of staff standing near the reception desk. She looked away at once, dropping her gaze to her phone. When it became clear she had no way of finding her mother's ward on her own, she sent a message.A few minutes passed before Hayato found her. It was her first time inside a general hospital, and she came to understand at once that it was not a place that could be described simply as a large nurse's office. Passing someone in the corridor who appeared to be medical staff, she felt her expression tighten. She pressed her lips together. Her back straightened. She had the vague sense that it would be wrong to look like someone in difficulty. They took the lift, and further along the corridor Hayato stopped."Here. Mum's in the bed on the right, at the far end."He said this, then leant against the wall nearby and turned to Haruka with a question."You still see Dad sometimes, don't you."She felt her back teeth clench. Their mother was just the other side of the wall, unlikely to hear — but Haruka's voice shrank all the same."...Sometimes. He messages on LINE almost every day.""Block him. And stop seeing him."Hayato's expression said he couldn't understand her. He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, and without looking at Haruka changed the subject."You'll be on your own tonight. I finish work late, but I can be back around eleven. You go to sleep first.""It's fine. I'll be all right."She pressed the point that three days alone would be no problem at all. But Hayato shook his head."No. You're a minor. I'm technically your guardian right now."There was no use arguing with her brother once he had made up his mind. Haruka looked down, and her voice came out small."Is it okay if we do our washing separately?""What do you mean?"Hayato asked, one corner of his mouth lifting. He watched her fumble for an answer, tilted his head trying to work it out — and then, without having done so, hurried off to his shift.

She could not bring herself to go straight into the ward. She stood near the door, not moving, until she found her mother's name on the nameplate. She tried to picture what her face would look like. The thing she feared most was coming face to face with a mother whose expression had gone blank, whose eyes had lost all their force.Until about six months ago, her mother's face had been full of visible strain — tensed with effort, letting out sighs. But at some point, the expression had simply disappeared. Whether she had grown numb to the pain, or whether she had passed some limit and her emotions had shut down, Haruka had once thought to look it up, but stopped herself before typing in the words she suspected. To search would be to let the results confirm what she did not want to know. The same thing had happened in the library, when she had stood before the shelves of general medicine and psychiatry and found herself unable to take down any book that seemed relevant, even when the title caught her eye. Was there nothing she could do for a mother who had been driven to the point of collapse? When she tried to think of something, she always came up against the same wall — and she could never speak to anyone about it. She had no intention of telling teachers or other adults that her family was in trouble.

At last she took hold of the handle. She slid the door open carefully, without a sound. The beds were divided by curtains. She turned immediately towards the window on the right, and through a gap in the cream-coloured curtain she could make out her mother."...Haruka. You came."Her mother was lying down, connected to a drip. When Haruka sat on the low round stool beside the bed, she began to push herself slowly upright."Don't."Haruka put out a hand to stop her, and her mother lay back. That she had tried to sit up at all — that she had reacted to her daughter's arrival — brought a small measure of relief."I heard from Hayato. He said he'd come and stay after work.""Good. On your way home, pick something up for dinner. And sorry — can you buy your lunches at the convenience store this week too?"She explained about topping up the electronic money card for payments, and then her mother's words ran out. She closed her eyes, as though there was nothing more to say. Once those eyelids closed, Haruka knew they would not open again — not through anything she could do.There was no way to ask how things stood with her father. Hayato would have spoken up even in a hospital room, but for Haruka this was as far as she could go. She stayed beside her mother for about five minutes, but began to feel that her presence was making it harder for her to rest, and said, "I'll head off now," and left.On her way back to the reception area, she passed a girl in a wheelchair being pushed by a woman. As they drew level, Haruka's eyes went to the girl. She appeared to be a little younger than Haruka — dressed in a pale blue pair of pyjamas, the skin around her eyes hollowed. The woman pushing the chair was probably her mother. Haruka followed them with her gaze, and something like envy rose in her and would not stop.Her throat ached. Her mouth was dry, the saliva slow to come. She was about to look for a vending machine when she remembered, and unzipped her rucksack. What came out was the bottle of mineral water, slightly dented near the top. Without hesitating, she twisted off the cap and took a sip. The liquid was room temperature, tasteless — neither sweet nor salty — but it moved through her body cleanly, and she felt it. She was close to tears without knowing why, and yet some part of her had been waiting for exactly this. By the time she noticed, she had drunk more than half of it.

That night, after visiting the hospital, she barely slept. The images from inside the building kept coming back — the girl in the wheelchair, the woman pushing her, refusing to leave her mind. She replayed every word of the exchange with her mother and went over and over what else she might have said, and gradually her thoughts grew sharper and more wakeful. By the time she heard birdsong announcing the morning, a fierce drowsiness had taken her by surprise. Her mind was sluggish, and she had no time for breakfast. She endured the hunger and at lunch pushed a steamed bun and a bottle of cola down her throat. Almost immediately a sharp pain gripped her just below the chest, and for the rest of the afternoon she sat through lessons with her cheek pressed against the desk."Nemoto-san."A quiet, low voice. Her shoulder jerked. She lifted her head, and felt the stiffness in the back of her neck."The lesson finished some time ago."Spread open on her desk was her world history textbook. Her notebook was blank. She looked at the blackboard — the writing had been erased.She said sorry under her breath. Miyano had settled into the seat beside her and was looking at her directly."You should go to the nurse's office."The moment she heard those words, dizziness struck. The world tipped sharply — she lost her sense of balance, as though caught in an earthquake. Her head swam; she could not speak. From somewhere nearby came the sound of voices asking if she was all right, but she herself had no idea what was happening. Then Miyano rested a hand lightly on her shoulder.

When Haruka came to, a dull pain was pressing at her temples. She had probably been grinding her teeth in her sleep. It was a habit she had developed during orthodontic treatment in primary school — a tendency to clench hard that had stayed with her. The blurring in her vision gradually resolved. A milky white ceiling. Curtains drawn around a bed. It was almost identical to the hospital room where her mother had been lying just the day before. The image surged through her mind all at once, and she sat up sharply. She was smoothing her hair with her hand when the curtain was drawn slightly open and Nakajo, the school nurse, looked in."You're awake. How are you feeling?"Nakajo came closer, one hand in the pocket of her white coat."Are you eating properly? Sleeping?"Nakajo asked, arms folded. Haruka said nothing, and gave a small nod. Nakajo looked at her for a moment as though she had something more to say, but did not press further."A lot of students have been feeling under the weather since the new term started. Take care of yourself, Nemoto-san. Though I have to say, I was quite surprised when Miyano-sensei carried you in."The remark pulled Haruka's gaze up from where it had been drifting. She had some memory of being supported on her way from the classroom to the nurse's office, still on her own feet. But from somewhere around the top of the staircase, things became unclear. If she had been judged seriously unwell, her family might have been contacted."Sorry — what did you tell my parents...?""You don't remember?"Nakajo's eyebrows rose at the question. Haruka shook her head — she didn't."You kept saying things like 'I'll contact my parents myself' and 'I just need to sleep and I'll be fine.' You were so insistent that I thought — well, if you've got that much fight in you, you'll probably be all right. And then you fell asleep and forgot the whole thing, apparently."She could not recall it clearly. But it sounded exactly like something she would do, and she accepted it. She had apparently slept for about an hour, and it was well into the after-school hours by now. She needed to go back to her classroom to collect her rucksack. She was about to leave when Nakajo called after her."Can I ask — Nemoto-san, are you on a diet?"Nakajo's voice dropped a little."No. I'm not.""Really? Here — take these."A gentle smile crossed her face as she went to the drawer of her work desk and came back with two individually wrapped chocolates, which she gave to Haruka."Water, salt, sugar. Make sure you're getting all three."Coming out of the nurse's office, Haruka heard the sound of the brass band practising somewhere in the distance. Saxophones and trumpets moving through arpeggios. Percussion rang out; the flutes skipped lightly through the harmonies. The music was coming from somewhere above. Through the window in the corridor she looked up at the sky. It was clear. The deep blue of full summer was gone, and the great towers of cumulus with it. A pale, washed-out blue stretched overhead, streaked with clouds as though swept by a broom.She looked down at the chocolates Nakajo had given her. Two small red packages in the palm of her hand. For some reason, the feeling of being entirely alone came over her with unexpected force. It was nothing new for Haruka — but today it was slightly different. There was something that other students around her seemed to have as a matter of course, something she lacked. She did not know why she was without it, and at the same time she did not know how to fill the emptiness that came from being unable to feel whole on her own.

On the desk where Haruka sat in the now-empty classroom, her world history textbook and notebook had been left behind. She flicked through the notebook — the page bearing today's date was completely blank.After school, she would normally head straight for the staircase that led up towards the rooftop. Instead, she stopped by the social studies preparation room on the third floor — a room set aside for the social studies teachers, separate from the main staffroom.She did not know whether Miyano would be there. He had no form class and no club to supervise, so if he was in school after hours, this was the only place he would be. She wanted him to be there and did not want him to be there in equal measure. She knocked and opened the door. The room was empty. She was looking around when a figure rose from behind one of the desks."Nemoto-san."Miyano had apparently been crouching down, searching through the shelves along the wall — his presence had been hidden from view entirely."How are you feeling?"His tone was not particularly grave."...I'm sorry.""I asked whether you were feeling better. Why are you apologising?"He seemed genuinely puzzled. Miyano tilted his head. Haruka answered with an uncertain "I'm fine.""You don't look fine."He appeared to smile, very slightly. But he composed himself at once and continued."You don't look fine, and yet I asked anyway. That was unkind of me. I apologise."No adult had ever apologised to her before. Haruka received it as something enormous and shook her head firmly. Miyano's manner remained unhurried, regardless of her reaction."This is when you use the word sorry, by the way. What Nemoto-san should have said just now was thank you. When someone shows concern for you, or helps you, it's worth telling them so.""...I'm sorry."She had taken it as a reprimand and answered by reflex. Miyano, who had not missed it, let out a quiet laugh. "There — you've done it again."Haruka was unsettled by how different Miyano seemed. He was not a teacher who threw out jokes or pulled at the corners of his mouth with a mischievous air. This was not the person she knew from the classroom.Miyano picked up several folders and walked towards his own desk as he asked his next question."Has it been like this for a long time?"Haruka nodded in silence."I see. I hope things get easier for you somehow. And there's the school trip in a couple of months or so, isn't there.""I won't be going on the school trip."Miyano stopped what he was doing. He looked at Haruka directly, and asked his next question without pushing."Is that a personal feeling, or have you actually decided not to go?""I've decided. I marked not attending on the consent form and handed it in. I spoke to my mother, and she signed it."Miyano's brow shifted slightly. Haruka stood where she was, saying nothing. He lowered himself into the chair at his desk and drew out the chair beside it for Haruka."If there's something troubling you, I'm willing to listen."Whether to sit down in the chair in front of her or not. Miyano, seeing that Haruka had frozen, turned away and began sorting the papers on his desk. He kept his hands moving as he continued to speak."Even if there is something troubling you, you shouldn't feel obliged to say it. Who you speak to, and what you choose to share — that is entirely your right."She could not make out what this teacher was really after. And yet, at the same time, she was aware of a great number of words gathering inside her, pressing to get out."...Yesterday, my mother collapsed. I went to the hospital."Her throat trembled first. Her pulse quickened."That must have been very hard."Miyano said only that, keeping his eyes forward. Haruka began to speak, still standing."On my way out, I passed a girl in a wheelchair in the corridor. Her mother was with her, pushing the chair. The girl looked unwell — she was clearly suffering. But I couldn't feel sorry for her. What I felt was the opposite — that she was lucky, having someone worry about her, not being alone. I thought: you have it so much better than me."Miyano listened, arms folded, one hand resting against his chin."And you feel that was wrong of you?"Haruka answered immediately."Completely wrong. It was awful.""Why?""Because it means I'm a person with a corrupt heart."He was quiet for a moment after hearing her answer, given without hesitation. After a pause, he gestured for Haruka to sit down. She lowered herself cautiously into the chair."I don't know how Nemoto-san defines good people and bad people — but most human beings carry something murky inside them.""Even you, Sensei?""I try not to. But it's difficult. Something I often think about — the people most convinced of their own virtue, the ones who use it to attack others, are often the most dangerous of all."His tone remained gentle, almost as though he were speaking to himself."How can anyone say with certainty that they have no part in what is dark? There are people who perform warmth while harbouring hatred inside. And yet... that is something like a habit of the human mind. Which is why I find it hard to condemn."It was like arriving at a difficult equation with no clear solution. Haruka fixed her gaze on a point in the middle distance and turned his words over slowly."Nemoto-san became aware of something dark within herself, recognised it as wrong, and was troubled by it. That makes you a sufficiently moral person."Was she being complimented? Miyano glanced at her furrowed brow and cleared his throat."I've said too much."He brought the conversation to a close and told her firmly to go home and rest. Haruka stood and gave a small bow. She was about to leave when the door to the social studies preparation room was knocked, and opened almost immediately.

"Excuse me."Haruka's eyes dropped to the newcomer's feet. Blue indoor shoes. In his right hand, several sheets of paper; his left hand was in his pocket. He was taller than average, though his posture was poor, and he covered the distance with a slow, meandering stride."Sensei. Here. Finished. Four pages, too."The bluntness of it was like a knife coming down on a chopping board without ceremony. The way he spoke was entirely his own. He handed Miyano the clipped sheets and turned his face to the side. Haruka looked down at once."You were trying to get into the rooftop yesterday, weren't you."So it was him. Haruka pressed her lips together. The boy she had run into, up by the door."I think you have the wrong person."She answered without meeting his eyes."No — it was definitely you. That door says No Entry. Why were you trying to get in?""It wasn't me."Haruka shook her head, pushing back."You were trying to pick the lock with a paper clip. That's breaking and entering, you know.""I keep telling you, it wasn't me."A sceptical gaze held steady on her from across the room. Haruka looked down and said nothing more."All right, you two."Miyano, who had been watching the exchange without intervening, stepped in. The question he directed next came not to Haruka, but to the boy."Uehara-kun. As a teacher, there's something I have to ask you.""What is it?""Why did you set foot in a stairwell that is off-limits to students?"The room went quiet. After a moment, the boy put his hand to the back of his neck, his expression stiffening."Why is it only me?"Miyano's response to his protest was pointed, and delivered without a stumble."Whether Nemoto-san entered a restricted area is uncertain — she has denied it herself, at the very least. But you, Uehara-kun — you were there, weren't you. You said so yourself: that you saw a student trying to open the rooftop door. You may not know whether it was Nemoto-san, but you cannot deny that you were there."The boy called Uehara tilted his head to the right, then slowly to the left. He put on an expression of elaborate innocence. Miyano delivered the final blow."You might as well give in. You know you've talked yourself into a corner.""Yeah, fair enough."He conceded with a look of mild resentment, and changed the subject."Anyway — who are you?"It was not said unkindly, but the directness of it caught Haruka off guard."...F class. Nemoto Haruka."He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly. That was all. He had no apparent intention of offering his own name. As for Haruka, she barely knew most of the students in her year — there were even classmates whose faces she could not match to names.Then Miyano turned the sheaf of papers he had just received face-up and tapped the top right corner twice with his finger."First year, A class. Uehara Zen.""Sensei — personal information."With the energy of a comedian delivering a completely flat routine, Zen made his objection. The screen of his phone, which he had held up as a bluff, was dark — switched off. A class was at the opposite end of the building. Aside from school events and assemblies, it would be difficult for Zen and Haruka to so much as register each other's existence."Even so, Uehara-kun — you've written a great deal here. Impressive.""Mm, not really," Zen said, though the corner of his mouth had softened. A quiet, suppressed laugh followed."That said, I do need you to observe the deadline. Hand something in this late at university and it will be rejected outright, no matter how good it is."Miyano delivered this with a straight face, placing particular weight on the word rejected."I'll do my best."Zen dropped his gaze to a point slightly below and ahead of him, and pursed his lips as though about to whistle. Miyano immediately countered that best was not good enough — he wanted a guarantee. It had the rhythm of a well-worn double act, and yet there was no real tension in Miyano's voice — he did not sound as though he were truly warning anyone.To Haruka, their exchange seemed genuinely strange. Between a teacher issuing a reprimand and a student receiving one, there ought to have been a certain friction. Instead, the atmosphere was loose and unhurried — like a straight man and a comic who had long since stopped needing to try."Nemoto-san — F class still has a little longer, but don't forget the deadline."Miyano's words brought her back to herself. She remembered now that the assignment sheet had indeed been handed out."...Do we really have to write that much?""No. Fill in about half the blank space — that will do."That too was something Miyano had mentioned in class, but Haruka had been drifting and had no memory of it."Uehara-kun always writes a great deal because he loves history."Zen gave a self-deprecating shrug."Only history. Everything else I'm hopeless at.""Having even one thing you love is more than enough. That's something to be proud of."Miyano looked over the report with quiet admiration. Watching the two of them, Haruka became aware of something tightening at the back of her throat — a constriction she could not account for. Her breathing grew difficult, and before she could stop it, a sound escaped her."I don't have anything I love. ...I'm an empty person. There's nothing in me."The words slipped out through barely parted lips and dissolved into the stillness of the room. Miyano's eyes narrowed. Zen turned to look at her."I don't know what I want. I don't know why I have to come to school. I don't know why I have to be alive."The room had gone cold. She was the one who had made it so. She felt ashamed of what she had just said aloud, and reproached herself for losing control of her lips.She left the room at a run.She walked along the corridor with tears falling one after another. The shame of it made her want to erase herself entirely. Her face crumpled as she ran up the stairs — up, and up again. The soles of her shoes struck the steps hard. She passed the red letters of the No Entry sign and reached the landing where the old equipment was stored — dusty desks and chairs, a cleaning locker on its side, a stepladder. She paid none of it any attention, and climbed further.The door was always there in front of her. She gripped the handle and worked it left and right. She pushed, she shoved, over and over. She wanted to see what was on the other side. She wanted to feel wind. She wanted to be in the light.If she said, with that expression on her face, that she wanted to get onto the rooftop, anyone who heard her would almost certainly misunderstand. If the door were to open — would she run out and throw herself over the fence? No. That was not what she wanted. But she knew this feeling would not be understood by anyone. She stood before the door, which was as unyielding as ever, and did not move. The tears had stopped without her noticing. She no longer had any strength in her face. From somewhere far away came the sound of someone laughing.

The following morning, Haruka came into the living room to find Hayato eating breakfast in front of the television."Are you going to pick Mum up from the hospital tomorrow?"Haruka asked, taking a glass from the shelf. She opened the fridge and poured herself some milk."That's right. Half past ten. They said we didn't need to come, but I can't leave her on her own."Hayato impressed on Haruka that from now on she needed to pay close attention to their mother and look out for her. Because it was their mother who was in the hardest situation of all.The milk carton was empty. She rinsed it out and set it by the sink. She looked into the bin — two instant noodle containers. The tall one was from last night, Haruka's; the wide bowl-shaped one was Hayato's.When they were small, their mother had despised instant noodles and made it a rule that they were never to be eaten. But as the children grew older, she had stopped saying so, and now when Hayato ate them openly she only watched with a look of quiet displeasure.The image of that sad, contemptuous expression passed through Haruka's mind. She put the empty container into a white bin bag, tied it off, and pressed it back down into the bin.

With their mother away and the unfamiliar routine of living with her brother again, Haruka had been holding herself taut for days. By the time she arrived at the classroom, having been crushed on the packed commuter train, she was already exhausted.After morning homeroom, her form teacher brought up what had happened at the end of world history the previous day. But when Haruka brushed it off, the conversation ended without incident — which left her feeling oddly deflated. If anything, it was the girls in the seats nearby who had shown more concern, each of them saying something to check she was all right. Being asked if she was fine left her with nothing to say but that she was, and she had the sense that this was also what they were expecting to hear, so Haruka said nothing of what she actually felt.The day passed, and when school ended everyone scattered to committee meetings or club activities. Haruka waited until the building had thinned out, then made her way to the top floor.Today she had brought a hairpin. She inserted the end into the lock. But the pin was too thin for the keyhole. She straightened up from her crouch and studied the hairpin, thinking."First year, F class, Nemoto Haruka."Her name, called from behind without warning. Her shoulder shot upward. She turned to find Zen standing lower down on the staircase, the camera on his phone pointed at her. Caught in the act — there was no talking her way out of this.Haruka's face went rigid, her brows drawing together. Then Zen turned the phone around and held the screen out towards her."Only joking."He said it in an easy, unhurried tone and came up the stairs. The screen was black — the phone was not even switched on. She let out a breath of relief, but her guard did not come down."You really didn't take anything?"She checked again. Zen let out a sigh."What would I gain from it? And it's not the sort of thing I do."Zen settled cross-legged on the landing, as naturally as though it were his own territory. He reached into his school bag and took out a paperback. Haruka, watching him, sat down on the floor as well."What are you doing here, Uehara-kun?""What are you doing here?"The question came back at her like a boomerang. Both questions hung in the air unanswered. Silence settled between them, and there was no sign of the conversation beginning, let alone going anywhere."...Rock paper scissors?"She looked up at his suggestion. They held each other's gaze for about five seconds, then Zen said ready and counted them in. Haruka threw rock; Zen threw scissors."I won."She said it under her breath, to herself, and closed her fingers around her fist. When the result became clear, Zen had clicked his tongue very quietly. He dropped his book onto his bag, leant his head and back against the wall of the landing, and began to speak."I come here at lunch to read. The classroom's too loud, and people give me a hard time about it — like I'm trying too hard, being a show-off. It gets wearing."His voice dropped in keeping with the quiet around them."The library doesn't feel right either. But then I found this place — no one here, no need to worry about anyone watching. I started coming since the summer holidays ended. These days I sometimes come after school too."Haruka looked at the book in Zen's hands. It had a cover from a bookshop slipped over it, a bookmark tucked inside."Is it a history book?""Yeah.""Why do you love history?""Probably the manga I grew up with at home."People can only move forward. That is precisely why the past becomes a map. History exists not to make us clever, but to keep us from repeating our own foolishness — those were the words of a character in the story, Zen told her."You think it's just a manga, don't you.""...That's not what I—"The end of her sentence trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. She raised her eyes slowly. Zen was watching her with a calm, steady gaze — as though waiting for her to continue."When someone says 'history exists to keep us from repeating our foolishness' — I don't know, it just makes me feel like... the past has been decided in advance to mean failure."Zen closed his mouth and blinked, slowly, several times. Under that gaze, Haruka felt a small, sharp pain in her chest — as though she had said something wrong. She drew in a breath, about to apologise —"You might have a point there."His voice carried something almost like pleasure. But Haruka could not read what lay behind the brightness in his eyes.Haruka had the sense that Zen's way of speaking was similar to Miyano's. Not quite the same — Miyano had a certain polish to his manner that Zen lacked — but there was something shared in the way neither of them felt overbearing despite the clarity of what they said. No aggression, no imposition. Zen's unhurried tone seemed to say, simply: I am myself, and you are yourself.

"So — what about you, Nemoto-san?"The question caught her off guard and she sat up straighter. She could not answer immediately. She could not explain clearly what it was she was trying to do. If she said she wanted to get onto the rooftop, the next question would inevitably be why — she was certain of it.Seeing that Haruka was visibly struggling, Zen rephrased."Why are you trying to get up there on your own?"That was even harder to answer."Are you thinking about dying? Like — jumping off?""No!"Her voice rose. Zen held up one finger. "Hey — keep it down." She bit her lower lip and looked at the floor. Seeing her reaction, Zen scratched his head and murmured quietly."Sorry. About the — dying thing.""..."The conversation stalled. It was Zen who broke the silence."There are things you want to say but can't put into words, aren't there. Even when it's about yourself — especially then — there are things you don't fully understand."Zen's honesty sharpened Haruka's sense of guilt. Somewhere inside her she had written him off as immature. She had assumed that if she laid out the contents of her chest, he would laugh it off and the conversation would drift away."You said yesterday — that you didn't know why you had to come to school. Things like that."She wished he hadn't brought that up. Embarrassment rose in her, and she kept her eyes on the floor to avoid meeting his."I'd thought the same thing myself, at one point. But I couldn't say it to anyone around me. So when I saw you yesterday — I thought, that takes something."Zen's words lifted her downcast gaze. She stared at him, unable to speak.Zen had stopped being able to go to school during middle school. It was not that he was being bullied — it was that his body felt heavy in the mornings, and he could not get up. He had pushed through it for a long time, but eventually stopped going altogether. That was what he told her.It did not sound like a lie. There was nothing guarded about Zen — nothing that suggested a hidden side. And besides, there was nothing to be gained from making something like that up."...When did it start — the not going?"Haruka needed several minutes of silence before she could bring herself to ask. Why Zen had chosen to share this with her was something she could not fully account for."Second year, second term. Both my parents are from Okinawa, and going to stay with my mum's family there over the summer — that was what started it. I ended up staying there for a while.""How long is a while?""I was out of school until the end of second year's third term, then came back here for third year. I had my high school entrance exams to get ready for, so I found the motivation.""...Okinawa is where the school trip goes, isn't it.""Yeah. I won't be going, though."Haruka's heart gave one heavy beat. It was a feeling close to anxiety — like a glass filled right to the brim, the water trembling on the verge of spilling. Zen picked up his book again and turned his face to the page, adding in a light tone:"I moved here from Naha when I was in fifth year of primary school. I still go back sometimes, so honestly, school trips feel like a bit of a drag.""Did your parents not mind?""Not at all. They're pretty hands-off."There was no real basis for it, but Haruka had the feeling Zen was concealing something. And she nearly told him that she was not going on the school trip either — but stopped herself. It felt dishonest. A quiet unease began to stir. If Zen had not told her first, she would never have thought to tell him. Which made it feel like: you shared a secret with me, so here is one in return. The exchange with Miyano not long ago came back to her. Who Zen spoke to, and what he chose to share — that was his right. She needed to respect what it had meant for him to tell her."...I only come here after school. I won't get in the way of your reading, Uehara-kun."Zen looked up from his book. His expression clouded briefly, then cleared."I won't say anything to anyone about the lock. I don't want to lose this place either. And for what it's worth — Miyano-sensei knows I come here to read. He hasn't told the other teachers."That told Haruka something about Miyano — that he was not an ordinary person. At the same time, the memory of the day she had run out of the social studies preparation room settled heavily on her chest."That day — I ran out of the classroom like that..."At the words that day, Zen tilted his head for just a moment. Then — "Ah," — a quiet sound of recognition. She knew he had remembered, and without meaning to she exhaled. She hunched forward, eyes dropping to the cold floor."Why are you beating yourself up about it?"At his question, Haruka murmured "...because," and could not find what came next. She could not lift her eyes from the floor."What's done is done. There's no use going over it.""But...it's embarrassing."Her hands tightened without warning. Talking about this was only a burden on him. Zen showed no sign of moving. When Haruka raised her face, about to leave, he held her back with a quiet "hey.""If it's embarrassing — doesn't that mean it mattered to you? That it was something real? Being able to show someone what's inside you — in front of other people, just like that — I think that's something worth being a little proud of."The unexpectedness of it left her speechless. She looked back at him, something shifting in her eyes, and found him entirely composed — a stillness about him, like water that had ceased to move."...You remind me of Miyano-sensei, a little.""Do I? How?"Zen furrowed his brow, then let it go with a quiet laugh and opened his book again on his crossed legs. As though he had always belonged here, settled into the space. Haruka herself had been coming to this staircase long before he had — and yet somehow, it no longer felt like a place that was only hers. It had become, just slightly, somewhere they both were. Though there was still something she could not account for — a shadow that fell across Zen, whose source she did not yet understand.

Chapter Two  A Distance Without a Name

The school trip was scheduled for the last week of November — four days, three nights. This year, the destination had changed to the main island of Okinawa. Since the groups had been announced, preparatory study had been ongoing. They were supposed to be looking into the war and the base issues in depth, but most of the students were far more occupied with researching sightseeing spots. Some lamented that the water would be too cold for swimming; others were pleased that they would not have to worry about sunburn, or that it would not be too hot. Voices of excitement flew around the classroom from every direction, and there was no place in any of it for Haruka. Some classmates near her kept their energy in check, but gradually they had stopped paying her any attention either.In mid-October, when the long rains had begun to ease, Haruka stopped by the social studies preparation room. She knocked and opened the door, and the back of a male teacher sitting at a desk came into view."Excuse me. Is Miyano-sensei here?"Her voice came out thin. The teacher turned around — white-haired, wearing glasses. She could not recall his name, but she had seen him around the school. His face was lined in a way that looked gentle. She guessed he was around sixty."He's just stepped out. Said he'd be right back — would you like to wait?""May I?"The teacher fetched a folding chair from the corner of the room. Haruka thanked him and sat down. Miyano returned about five minutes later.She could have handed in the report at the end of class, as most students had. But she had not. When she passed it over, Miyano moved his eyes quickly across the page."Well written. Though you left it to the very last moment."He offered that comment first, then turned the report to face Haruka. Then he flipped it over. Her writing started from the top and continued halfway down the reverse side."I sense something of someone other than Nemoto-san in this report.""Uehara-kun gave me a little advice."She could not have concealed it, and she had not intended to try. Miyano narrowed his eyes and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly."Uehara-kun is always in here, sparring with the social studies teachers. Isn't that right, Nitta-sensei?"Miyano glanced over at the teacher across from him — the same man who had offered Haruka the chair earlier. At the mention of Zen, Nitta smiled. Behind his glasses, his gaze drifted upward, and his expression opened further: "Ah, that boy.""His parents are both university academics, historians. I find myself getting quite animated whenever we talk. He has that effect — it becomes genuinely enjoyable."Haruka was left without words. Zen had told her that his interest in history came from manga he had read as a child. He had said nothing about his parents. She also felt a small catch of something at the fact that he had been coming to this room. He had said he was not in any club, and he spent his lunch breaks reading on the staircase landing. He seemed, by all accounts, to prefer not to move in groups. She was still turning this over when Nitta rose from his seat and added:"There used to be a history research club, but it folded when the members all graduated. I always thought that if it had still been running, he would certainly have joined."This was apparently news to Miyano as well — his eyebrows rose with evident interest."When was that — when it folded?""Let me think — about four years ago now, I'd say."Nitta offered Haruka a parting smile, stretched with his hands on his lower back, announced he was heading to the staffroom, and left. Miyano quietly looked over the report once more, eyes on the page, and spoke without lifting them."You seem to have become friends without my noticing.""We're not particularly friends. It's just that there was a bit of a misunderstanding between us before."The words came out on their own. Haruka's tone sharpened slightly. Miyano set the paper down on the desk and leant back in his chair, fingers interlaced.

"So — why did Nemoto-san go to the staircase by the rooftop?"Haruka could not answer immediately. She pressed her lips together lightly. Miyano kept his gaze forward, waiting for the girl standing just to his side to break her silence."Do you think there's something mentally wrong with me — that I'm that kind of student?"Haruka gripped her own hands and forced out a small voice."I'm asking you why you went to the staircase by the rooftop.""You think I was trying to jump, don't you."Miyano went quiet. He blinked slowly, two or three times, then a slight furrow appeared between his brows."Forgive me if this sounds presumptuous, but I wonder whether Nemoto-san has a habit of deciding in advance what the other person must be thinking. The connection between rooftop and jumping is not one I can't follow — but there are other possibilities. Nature observation that requires height. Weather monitoring. Or simple curiosity about what is up there, what it looks like. Those could all be reasons too."There was no force in it — no attempt to win an argument. Miyano simply spoke, calmly, with a clear line of reasoning. His hand rested against his chin, his tone steady throughout."Even supposing Nemoto-san genuinely intended to jump. Why go to the trouble of choosing the school rooftop? It seems to me that the place must hold some particular meaning for you."Seen through so precisely, Haruka became only more confused. Words would not come."...I'm sorry."When her mind went blank in front of someone, the words came out without thinking. Saying them was usually enough to bring a conversation to a forced close. But Miyano turned his swivel chair and brought himself to face her, and continued."Nemoto-san has said nothing that calls for an apology. When apologising becomes a habit — even when there is nothing to apologise for — it takes words away from you. What you were trying to say just now — wasn't it something else entirely?"It was nothing like being lectured. There was no fear of being made to shrink. It felt almost as though she were being told: let out what you are carrying.Adults were difficult. They stepped over the boundaries of her inner world without hesitation, concern in hand, simply because she was young. That was what made them frightening. But this person felt different — as though he was simply listening, from the other side of a line he had not crossed."In middle school, the rooftop was open at lunch, and I used to spend that time up there with my closest friend. It's full of important memories — of her. But she sat the entrance exams for her first-choice school, and didn't get in... and that night, from the balcony of her family's flat..."There was nothing more she could say. Haruka fell silent. Somewhere close by, the shadow of her friend — the one who had fallen — was watching over her. That girl had had her youth taken from her. Haruka had no right to enjoy her own.Miyano, who had been listening, spoke quietly, almost in a whisper."No matter how deep the bond — no matter how close the connection — Nemoto-san does not need to carry another person's life. There is no one who can live your life in your place. It is the same for everyone.""...Even family?""Family too. Everyone outside yourself is someone else."Miyano said it without hesitation. The words settled quietly into the depths of Haruka's chest.

◇Haruka inserted the tip of the bent paper clip into the lock. This one was smaller than the last, and it went all the way in, fitting snugly inside the cylinder. Sitting cross-legged on the landing, Zen watched her with an expression of mild exasperation."You know — you could just go to the staffroom and ask for the key.""I can't do that. They'd ask why I want to go up. If I say I just want to, they're not going to accept that.""Make something up.""Getting them to open it with a lie would defeat the point.""You're a lot of trouble, Nemoto."At some point, Zen had dropped the honorific and started calling her by her surname alone. Haruka had noticed the shift, but had not felt any particular way about it, and since Zen carried on as if nothing had changed, she had not brought it up.The grey door remained fixed to the wall, unyielding as ever. Zen stood up without ceremony and came to stand beside it. He pointed at the handle."Just to check — if it did open, how exactly would you lock it again?"Haruka stopped what she was doing. She blinked, her dry and tired eyes struggling to focus, and thought."This isn't exactly a perfect crime you've been planning, is it."She shook her head in silence. It was less a plan than a leap without looking. Zen held out his palm."Let me try."Haruka handed over the clip. He took it, crouched down, and squinted one eye at the keyhole. She had half-suspected it — and then he actually started trying to pick the lock. But his hands were too large for such a small clip, and he dropped it on the floor. He clicked his tongue, picked it up, and went back to wrestling with the lock — and then did the same thing again, two or three more times. Watching from beside him, Haruka found it difficult not to laugh. Is this what I look like? she thought, and a small, suppressed laugh escaped her."You know... I kind of want to get out there too."Still working at the lock, Zen let the words fall quietly. The unexpected admission made Haruka's smile disappear."It's something the others can't do. If we got out there — it'd feel like winning."His voice had gone flat, lower than before."Which others?" Haruka asked."Classmates. For instance."His tone was cool. Something about his class was not sitting well with him — that much seemed clear. She did not yet understand why he was so unenthusiastic about the school trip, but that was not the kind of question she could ask easily."Right, I give up."Zen threw in his hand and passed the clip back to Haruka, then retreated. The book he pulled from his bag had a corner of the cover torn away — a bold rip, visible even from a distance."You've been here after school recently, Uehara-kun — but you don't come at lunch any more, do you.""Yeah. Lunchtimes have been... busy.""I see."Zen began reading in silence. Not wanting to disturb him, Haruka headed down the stairs.

After the Culture Day holiday, it was time for the annual school grounds clean-up. During the sixth-period homeroom, students swept and tidied the areas around the building that rarely received attention.Under a clear autumn sky, each student worked with a broom or a pair of tongs. Haruka, in class F, gathered fallen and dried leaves near the bicycle racks behind the building. After about an hour, signals to finish began to sound from various directions. Haruka's group called it done. Even autumn sunlight could make you sweat if you stayed under it long enough. She was thinking how pleasant the faint breeze felt against her warm skin when she noticed Zen among the boys cleaning near the martial arts hall, where the trees grew thick. Something about the atmosphere surrounding the five male students was unsettling. It looked almost as though four of them had closed in around Zen.Haruka strained to hear what they were saying. But they were too far away — dozens of metres — and she could not make out a word. Then, all at once, a dry burst of laughter rang out. It was not Zen who was laughing. With a quiet worry she could not shake, Haruka found herself unable to stop walking, and returned to the classroom with her classmates.

After school, Haruka was on the landing. She sat with her back to the locked door, looking down the staircase. She had not attempted the lock — she had been sitting like this, drifting, since she arrived.The school trip was three weeks away, and every day in the classroom she spent her energy making herself invisible. Alone, that effort fell away and she found herself vacant without meaning to. She had more physical and mental reserves now than she had in the first term, when she had submitted the non-participation form — but she had told her classmates she was not going for health reasons.The first term felt distant now. Her family's future had been completely uncertain then too. Over the recent holiday, her mother had told her the divorce was nearly finalised. Once the paperwork was done, they would be moving out of the house.Next year, she would leave the home she had lived in for sixteen years and begin a new life, just the two of them. Her parents were apparently discussing how to keep Haruka's daily life as unchanged as possible. Her surname would stay the same, and they were looking for somewhere within commuting distance so she would not have to change schools.It was complicated. They were going to all that trouble for her sake — and yet the option of not separating, for the sake of their child, was simply not available to them. Haruka's gaze settled on the empty space across from her. Into the blank the landing offered, she conjured Zen's shape.Would he come today? What had he been talking about with those boys during the clean-up? Standing there in the middle of that group, he had looked distinctly unamused.Haruka rose slowly and shouldered her rucksack. Keeping alert for any sign of other people, she made her way down the rooftop staircase. Continuing down the north stairwell, she reached the floor where the first-year classrooms were. Class B was just visible beyond the foot of the stairs; further north was class A.As she approached the rear door of class A, a student was slamming the cleaning cupboard at the back of the room open and shut with some force."Nemoto?"Zen frowned. The cupboard door had been crashing like a cannon directly in front of her, and Haruka had frozen without thinking."What brings you here?""...I was wondering if you were still at school. Whether you might be in your classroom. I didn't actually think you would be."Haruka's fumbling explanation was met with a tilt of Zen's head."What are you trying to say?"Put on the spot so directly, she struggled for words and finally managed a small voice."Sorry. I'm not entirely sure myself.""There it is again. Nemoto's whole I don't know thing."Zen shrugged and walked towards the window seat. Haruka looked around the classroom. It was empty. She noticed that standing rigid in the corridor would only draw attention, and stepped hesitantly inside."What were you doing on your own?""Cleaning. I was on duty today, but everyone else skipped out on me. Said I could handle the trip week too."Zen said it without any particular anger, matter-of-fact."That's awful."The words came straight out of Haruka. She asked, tentatively, whether it was always like that. Zen set his bag on a desk and began packing up to leave."First time. But ever since they found out I'm not going on the trip, they've been having a go at me."The worry that Zen might be being bullied rose in her. But she could not find the right words — nothing beyond the obvious came to mind."Sorry."At Haruka's murmur, Zen's hands stopped on the zip of his bag."Why are you apologising?""I don't know what to say at a time like this.""It's fine. I'm not letting it get to me."He went back to gathering his things, unbothered. Haruka was still troubled, but could not press further."Are you being bullied in your class?"It came out of nowhere. Zen's expression sharpened at once, and the lightness left his voice. When Haruka said she was not, he nodded. But he remained silent, staring at the floor, as though something was still turning over in his mind.He was still wearing that uncertain expression when, abruptly, he sat himself on top of a desk."So — what was so bad that you were crying and pressing yourself against the rooftop door like that?"Haruka genuinely could not follow which moment he meant. She went quiet, unable to find specific words."I knew, you see. That wasn't the first time — I'd seen you up on that staircase two or three times before."Haruka could not read what Zen was thinking as he spoke in that even, unhurried way. He slouched even sitting down, shoulders rounded, head tilted slightly, and continued."I'd gone up there myself one afternoon — wanted to be there — and found someone had got there first. At first I was startled, but then — this person was crying, pressing their hands all over the door. And trying so hard to get the lock open. I didn't know what to do. It felt too awkward to say anything."

She had thought her antenna was always up for any sign of another person — and yet she had not sensed him at all. Without realising it, Haruka's face had crumpled to the edge of tears. She caught Zen's eye and quickly looked down, covering her face with both hands."Well — I'll pretend I didn't see that."Zen said it lightly, with a wry half-smile. It was no comfort whatsoever, and Haruka felt the heat spreading to her ears."It's all right, you know. If you can cry, you're better off crying."Zen's tone was neither teasing nor gently solicitous — it carried something closer to melancholy, faintly forlorn. When Haruka lowered her hands from her face, he was sitting on the desk with both hands planted behind him, feet swinging.Haruka swallowed, then opened her mouth as though pushing against the silence of the classroom."I'm not going on the school trip. You said it first, and after that I couldn't bring myself to mention it."Zen stopped swinging his feet and blinked slowly, several times."Oh. Is that right."It was a response so flat it was almost deflating."You're not surprised?""I am. I'm so surprised I don't know how to react."With that, Zen turned his face slowly towards the blackboard."Can I ask why you're not going?"Even after asking, Zen made no move to look at Haruka."Things at home have been difficult for a while — since before I started here. And then recently my mother collapsed and was hospitalised..."Haruka continued speaking to the side of Zen's face, which did not move a muscle."I can't sleep at night, and then I'm drowsy at school. I tire quickly and can't keep up with everyone else. There's no way I could manage a school trip like this."The words stopped there. The silence stretched, and through it came the repeated crack of a baseball bat from the school grounds below.It was Zen who broke it. He finally turned towards Haruka, though he still would not meet her eyes, and his voice was heavy."Sorry. I don't know what to say at a time like this either.""It's fine."She had told him in something close to desperation. Zen's unvarnished reaction was not the kind that drove her towards regret. At times like this, her father and Hayato always tried to say something. They felt compelled to find the right words — but to Haruka, it only ever came across as a kind of posturing, as though they were showing off their hard-won wisdom. Hayato would raise an eyebrow if she said so to his face, but in that way, she thought, he and their father were very much alike."I said the trip was a drag — but that wasn't really it. There's another reason.""...Right.""It's not that I don't want to go," Zen continued. "I just wish it weren't Okinawa."Zen's words were sparse, and Haruka found them difficult to follow. His family home was there, and he had spent time at his grandfather's house during middle school — so for him to not want to go must mean something considerable."I've just been running away. That's all I've been doing.""You don't look like you're running away. You look more like you're facing something. I don't know what — but that's how it seems."The moment she said it, Zen's eyes moved upward and settled on her. But he blinked quickly and looked away, and said bluntly:"I'm heading home. You?"Zen climbed down from the desk."Me too.""Shall we go down together?"She nodded and followed behind Zen as he moved towards the front door. He reached up and switched off the lights. In the dimmed classroom, Haruka turned back and looked at the rows of desks and chairs. Her gaze moved to the three waste bins and the cleaning cupboard at the back, then across from Zen's seat to the windows, and finally to the blackboard."Class A isn't so different from class F," Haruka said.Zen, as though pulled back, turned to face her. He had been about to step into the corridor, but came back towards her instead."Not so different," Zen said, coming back towards her. "They're all exactly the same, every classroom."Haruka took in the space as though looking at a distant view. Zen's gaze moved back and forth between her and the room."Where do you sit?"Over there — Haruka pointed to the fourth seat from the front on the corridor side."That's a good spot."Zen looked at her seat and said so."I'm not sure. But the back row has to collect all the handouts.""Ah — yes, I know that one."Zen laughed quietly, a breath through his nose. She had never thought of her seat as any kind of lucky position, but now, somehow, it felt natural to think so.More than half a year had passed since she started school, and this was the first time she had walked down a staircase talking with a classmate."During the trip, we come in for half a day and study on our own," Haruka said to Zen, who was walking with his hands in his pockets."They'll give us work to do, I expect.""I was hoping to study for exams.""I want to read. Or sleep.""There'll be a teacher supervising, I think.""Ugh — shini darui!""Sh — shini?""Means really. Okinawan dialect.""Oh."As they walked, they passed several other students in the corridor, but Haruka could not afterwards remember whether they had been boys or girls. What stayed with her was only this: the sense that she too was part of the scenery of the school, just like those passing students. It was a very different experience from walking alone, checking the feeling of the floor beneath her shoes.

Eventually the two of them reached the shoe lockers, each going to their own class's row. They put on their shoes and stepped out through the main entrance, and found Zen waiting outside."Sorry — thank you for waiting."For some reason it had come out formally, almost stiffly. Thank you for waiting felt too familiar somehow. But Zen was elsewhere, barely registering her words. His gaze was fixed on a vapour trail stretching straight across the sky."What is it?""The sky here is quiet, isn't it.""The sky?""...Never mind."Zen started walking ahead. Haruka had no idea what he had been thinking. She followed after him."Which way are you, Nemoto?"He asked once they had passed through the school gate and reached the road."This way.""Me too."They walked on in the same direction for a while without speaking."Hey — Nemoto, you don't have a boyfriend or anything, do you?"Zen's tone was breezy, almost joking, the question tossed out like a passing wind. Haruka had not expected the subject, and something stirred uneasily inside her. When she tried to answer, the unsettlement clouded the words before they came."...Just fitting in is about all I can manage. I don't have the room to think about anything like that."Zen showed no particular surprise and moved on."Right. What about friends from other schools — people from middle school?"Haruka went quiet. Zen glanced sideways at her. Feeling his eyes on her, the pressure to say something pushed her mouth open."What about you, Uehara-kun — do you have a girlfriend?"It was a reflexive question. She meant nothing by it. But even as she asked, a heaviness settled over her — she was not sure she should have."I want to keep things light. In here." Zen touched a hand briefly to his chest.He was calm about it, and straightforward."So — do you, or don't you?"The words were out before she had thought them. Zen let out a small, awkward smile."I don't. But—""...Is there someone in Okinawa?""What? That's way too complicated."A faint, quiet relief settled in Haruka's chest. She looked down at the pavement as she walked. Without noticing when it had happened, their steps had fallen into the same rhythm."My class is always going on about who's with who. Hearing that — it makes me feel like I'm the only one with no interest. Like maybe I'm just cold.""You're not cold at all."There was conviction in Haruka's voice. She looked up and met Zen's eyes. She could not tell what he was thinking. He seemed less like someone who wanted to avoid connection and more like someone struggling to understand how to build it. She had the feeling that somewhere behind his eyes lay a worry not entirely unlike her own. But she could not ask. There was something in the depths of that gaze that told her it was not yet the right time to go near it."It's just — the moment there's a label like girlfriend, you have to act a certain way even to be close to someone. Doesn't that feel heavy?""...That way of thinking already sounds pretty heavy, Uehara-kun."The honest response slipped out of Haruka before she could stop it. It had been a natural reaction, but she regretted it immediately. Bracing herself, she glanced at Zen's face — and found him entirely unbothered."It's just that when you're properly going out with someone, you're supposed to act like it. That's the part that's a drag."It was entirely Zen — light, breezy."I think I understand, a little. ...I'm shini done with it too — really done."Haruka added it on. Zen laughed — a small breath, like a quiet exhale."I never thought I'd end up having this kind of conversation with a boy.""Wait — is this actually that kind of conversation?""...Probably.""Huh. Well. This is my turn."They had reached the second set of traffic lights. Zen pointed to the right with one finger. Haruka nodded, and he turned his back on her. Without quite planning to, Haruka opened her mouth — but the breath caught at the back of her throat and the words would not come. Still, she drew in what air she could and called out towards his retreating back."Uehara-kun!"At the sound of his name, Zen stopped and turned around.— See you. The words may not have reached him. She thought she had failed — but Zen tilted his chin up slightly and threw back a single word.It was drowned out. A delivery lorry passed close by, and his voice was swallowed by the exhaust. The roar of the engine warped the air and grazed Haruka's eardrums. There was no second chance to hear it. Zen turned back around and walked away.

Final Chapter  Toward That Blue

On the day Haruka learned she had passed the entrance examination, her father left the house.She rang her mother to share the news, and the voice that answered was muffled and low."That's good."It bore no resemblance to a word of celebration. What reached Haruka's ear was a weeping that sounded like grief."What's wrong?"She asked, and her mother talked in circles — fragmented, trailing — until the words broke off and she murmured: "I don't really understand it myself."Haruka set the news of the examination aside and went home to find her brother already there. Hayato was in his third year at university and lived alone. He came back to the family home once a month or so, but it had been only a matter of days since his last visit. The heavy atmosphere hanging over the living room told Haruka everything. Whatever happiness this house had held, it had been taken away."No. He's not picking up."Hayato's voice was low, edged with anger. He had been calling their father again and again.Their mother sat at the dining table, elbows on the surface, head in her hands. She had fallen silent and would not say a word."So what are you going to do, Mum?"Hayato spoke as though arriving at a verdict. Haruka did not quite follow what he meant."Going around with other women while acting the big man at home.""Stop it, Hayato."Her mother raised her voice, then immediately hunched back over, breathing through her shoulders. The colour had left her face as she stared down at the table.There was a version of her family she had not known existed. She had been kept outside it entirely. Even now, she wanted someone to tell her — to let her in, to explain what all this confusion and fear actually was. But she could not bring herself to ask."Both of you — just calm down for a moment."She knew as she said it that the words carried no weight at all. She did not understand why."Mum and I are calm. This is a grown-up problem — stay out of it."Her brother had given her the reason: this was not a family matter but an adult one, and she did not belong to it.Haruka ran out of the house. She wanted to scream at the sharp, clear sky, but something in her — the part that was always conscious of being watched — would not let her make a sound. She tipped her head back, let the cold air press against the tip of her nose, and cried without a voice. Her body temperature poured out of her as tears. Her throat burned as though it had been scalded.Her phone rang in her pocket. It was her closest friend calling, and what followed was a heavy, wordless silence that felt like the arrival of bad news."...I didn't get in."About twenty seconds passed before Yuna's voice came through, rough and faint."I'm sorry. Yuna, I can't — right now. I'll call you back."Haruka ended the call. I'm sorry repeated itself in her mind. Sorry I got in and you didn't. Sorry I can't be there for you right now. Meaningless apologies, cycling without end. She never called Yuna back.— Yuna had fallen.The day after the results came out, a classmate told her, and Haruka's eyes went wide. Fallen meant that Yuna had fallen from the balcony of her family's flat.Poor thing. She must have been devastated.Everyone wore the pain on their faces as though it were their own, and yet spoke of it as though it had happened to a stranger. According to the form teacher, her life was not in danger — but she had broken her arm and her ankle. In the end, Yuna did not attend the graduation ceremony.

◇The morning of the twenty-fifth of November brought a light scatter of rain from a leaden sky. Through the living room window, white clouds drifted across a dull, grey ceiling. The weather presenter was wearing a white fluffy layer over her blouse, her smile as full as ever. How did anyone manage eyes that bright at this hour of the morning — eyes that seemed to say, look at me, this is the best moment of my life.Haruka stood in front of the television. The presenter's upbeat delivery kept getting in the way, and the forecast itself refused to go in."Your lunch. Don't forget it."Her mother lifted the wrapped bento and held it out as a reminder. The self-study session was only in the morning, but Haruka planned to eat at school. Coming home too early would stop her mother from resting."Mm."She answered without opening her mouth, and turned back to the screen. Okinawa would be clear for four days. Here, nothing but clouds for the next three, with the occasional umbrella symbol."I'm off."Beyond the front door, a crisp wind was waiting. A scarf would not go amiss much longer. She walked with the dizziness and the headache held in check. An invisible weight pressed down on the back of her neck and took hold of her shoulders and would not let go.

Students not attending the school trip came in for self-study in the morning only. The room assigned to them was the audio-visual room — three unnecessarily wide long tables arranged in rows stretching to the back of the space."Morning."Zen caught her eye as she came in and gave a low, murmured greeting from where he sat at the front, all the way at the far end of the room. He watched Haruka making her uncertain way towards him with a look that suggested something was not quite right. She said morning back — she was fairly sure she did — but her mouth had barely moved and her voice came out thin."Are you feeling all right?""...Yeah. Fine."She put her things down at the desk to Zen's right and sat. The moment she was seated she folded her arms on the table and put her head down, closing her eyes. Mornings were always the worst. Zen's expression, catching a glimpse of how badly off she was, settled into something uneasy."Seriously — is it always like this?"His voice came down to the back of her head. She made a sound in her throat without lifting her face. "Mm.""And you can actually pull yourself together?""When the teacher gets here."Haruka lifted her head just slightly and turned it towards him. The pressure on her back made her keep it on the desk."My head hurts and everything feels sort of... floaty. It happens a lot.""Floaty? And you said you were fine just now. Don't lie."Zen was looking down at her with narrowed eyes. Haruka could only lie there with one cheek pressed against the table, watching him in a vague, unfocused way."You could try cooling your forehead — might help."The suggestion came out of nowhere, but now that he mentioned it, her forehead did feel warm. She ran cold, always — and yet somehow her head was always too hot. She felt bad that he was worrying about her, but answering felt like too much effort, and she let it pass. After that Zen stopped talking, and Haruka closed her eyes and waited for the lesson to begin.About fifteen minutes later the classroom door opened and a male teacher came in. Haruka dragged herself upright. She had been in the same position for too long, and her shoulders and the space between her shoulder blades cracked back to life.

The teacher who came in was Sato, wearing a tracksuit in a dull, faded navy — top and bottom. A logo from some minor sportswear brand was visible on the chest. The sleeves were pushed up, revealing arms that looked ready to split at the seam, and in one hand was a clipboard with a file and several sheets of paper clipped to it.Haruka's spirits dropped when she realised Sato was supervising. This was the teacher who coached the girls' volleyball club and taught physical education to the first years. Above all else, the voice was loud — and Sato seemed constitutionally unable to ignore students who showed any sign of flagging. During Sato's lessons, you kept your back straight."Come on, you two — this is a once-in-a-lifetime school trip. Okinawa, of all places. What a waste."The clipboard came down on the teacher's desk with a small thud. Sato's brows drew together in the centre."Didn't you want to see the coral reef?"The question landed with emphasis, but neither Haruka nor Zen said anything — they were waiting for the work to be handed out. Sato added, with a look of undisguised displeasure, that it would have been a rare opportunity to reflect on war and peace.At that, Zen gave a quiet cough. Not conspicuously — more as though something had caught in his throat that needed clearing. Haruka glanced at him and nearly laughed. His lower eyelids were all crinkled up, and he looked ready to roll his eyes entirely. His face said: just hand out the worksheet."Well — you're both young, you'll have chances to go in life. But I'll say this for your benefit. If you keep avoiding group activities and working with others, you'll struggle when you get out into the world."When were they going to get the work? Haruka held the irritation in her mouth, wanting to breathe it out like fire directly at Sato. She glanced at Zen again and found he had a mechanical pencil in his hand, spinning it slowly between his fingers.Sato finally came forward, pulling several sheets from the clipboard. A set of papers was placed on each desk. The stapled pages turned out to be a maths assignment — three sheets in total. As Haruka leafed through them, a sigh came from beside her.Once Sato was satisfied that they had started, the teacher returned to the desk at the front, opened a file, and began marking what appeared to be health education reports. Haruka's mind was not yet running at full speed, and her pace was slow, but the pen moved. Zen, meanwhile, was writing and erasing in turns, stuck somewhere and not getting through it. Haruka was working steadily through the equations when a knocking sound came from just beside her — a finger tapping on the desk — and her concentration broke. She turned left to find Zen tapping with one finger."Are you good at maths?"He leant slightly towards her and kept his voice down. Haruka stopped what she was doing, looked at him, thought for a moment, and nodded. For some reason, he clicked his tongue."Uehara. No cheating."Sato had missed nothing. Caught, Zen finally rolled his eyes all the way. He straightened up briefly, then let himself go slack again, back curved as usual.The clock moved on, and as the end of the first period drew near, Sato called out right then with the energy of someone leading a festival chant."You'll hand everything in together at the end of self-study, so hold on to that for now."The bell rang precisely on cue. Zen dropped his pencil into his case without ceremony."Choosing homework over a school trip — you two are something else!"Sato stood with feet planted wide apart, hands on hips, and broke into a broad grin. A shadow crossed Haruka's face. She had chosen not to go — that was true. But she was not exactly throwing her hands up in celebration over a maths worksheet.

By the time Haruka came back from the toilet during the break, her body had adjusted a little from the morning commute, and she no longer needed to put her head down. She sat at her desk in a vague, drifting state, and without meaning to found herself going back over everything Sato had said. Perhaps because she was no longer hunched over as she had been earlier, Zen spoke to her without looking up from his phone — and happened to bring up exactly the same thing."That was pretty heavy bias from Sensei, wasn't it. Just for not going on the trip. It's not even compulsory."There was a lift of grievance at the end of his words, and Haruka did feel something in common with it. She did — and yet Sato had been warning them out of genuine concern, even if the delivery had not been kind. Perhaps she was the one at fault. Perhaps feeling bad about it was only what she deserved."Maybe we're just... outside the frame."The words came out without thinking. Haruka looked at Zen — and immediately felt uncomfortable, because he was looking straight back at her with an entirely serious expression."Sorry — I said we. You and I aren't the same."She looked down and said nothing more. At that moment, the door at the front of the room opened. Haruka's head came up. She stared at the person standing there."Morning."A flat, colourless greeting landed on the floor. Miyano came in and set his things down at the teacher's desk with his usual quiet composure. Haruka and Zen looked at each other. Miyano, as though nothing were the matter, opened a file and began preparing the work. The bell for the start of the period rang right on time."Go ahead, then," he said, and handed out an English assignment. Haruka could not respond — she sat open-mouthed — and Zen's jaw had dropped entirely. It looked like a scene from one of those television programmes where the prank has just paid off. Though Miyano almost certainly had not intended any surprise. He looked at the two of them, frozen, and tilted his head."Something wrong?""It's just — the contrast with Sato-sensei is a lot. We were just getting a lecture about not going on the trip."Zen got there first with the explanation, but Miyano's puzzled expression held. Haruka filled in the details, and when Miyano had heard the full account he dropped his gaze and fell quiet. After a moment, he clasped his hands behind his back."Sato-sensei's view is a fairly conventional one, I think. But if something about it felt wrong to you — you might have tried arguing back."That would only have made Sato come back twice as hard. Haruka felt the frustration of it. Then Zen spoke, brows drawn in, voice flat."Pointless. They're not going to listen to anything we say. Better to stay quiet and wait for the storm to pass."Haruka agreed inwardly — and as she did, her mind went to the arguments at home. A few years ago, her father and Hayato had gone at each other again and again, trading blow for blow. When their mother stepped in to mediate, her father had dismissed her without a word. That only made Hayato bite harder, and the exchange would coil and tangle until eventually her father shut it down by shouting at his son for taking his anger out on the furniture. Once, in middle school, Haruka had tried to step in herself — and been ignored so completely it was as though she had said nothing at all. The bitterness of that memory was still in her when Zen murmured from beside her."Hey — is Miyano-sensei... smiling?"She looked over. Miyano was wearing a faint expression, something held back — almost amused."Why are you smiling, Sensei?"Zen asked, and Miyano's loosened face snapped back to neutral."When I was in high school, I used to think exactly the same thing as Uehara-kun. It brought back a memory.""What kind of high school student were you, Sensei?"Haruka was genuinely curious to hear how Miyano would answer Zen's question."It was an all-boys secondary school — one of those combined middle and high school programmes. I didn't particularly like it."The reason he hadn't liked it, he said, was that it ran like a military institution, where any disruption to collective order was simply not tolerated. He had attended despite that because his parents had decided he would."My form teacher frequently pointed out that I wasn't adapting to the environment. But at some point I began to think: if an environment is one you genuinely cannot adapt to no matter how hard you try, then it was never the right place for you to begin with."Even so — how was one supposed to find the right place? That was the problem, and Haruka could not feel at ease about it. She also believed, somewhere underneath, that there was no place in the world where she would be allowed to be happy. More than that — she kept returning to the question of whether she was permitted to be happy at all."Shall we get on with the work now."Miyano held up one palm and drew the exchange to a close. Zen pursed his lips with the air of someone reluctant to let it end, and picked up his pencil. Haruka wrote her name on the sheet and began the questions. But her attention kept sliding away and the English text would not go in. By the time Zen had finished the first page — ten minutes or more later — she had not answered a single question.Her eyes rested on the printed letters while her mind was somewhere else entirely. Last night, her father had sent a message on LINE asking her to meet for tea. He might already have found out, through someone, that their mother knew about their meetings. She had been telling herself that this time she would say it. That once the divorce was finalised, she would not see him again —

"Nemoto-san."A low voice spoke her name from directly in front of her, and Haruka's attention came back. She blinked and looked up to find Miyano, who had been working at the teacher's desk, had stopped and was watching her."If you're feeling unwell, you're welcome to go and rest in the nurse's office.""...I'm fine."Zen cut in before she had finished."When Nemoto says she's fine, she isn't.""I really am all right.""Your grades aren't on the line today — don't push yourself."Even at Zen's prompting, Haruka shook her head and would not be moved. No matter how drowsy she was in class, no matter how heavy her head felt, she had never once gone to the nurse's office. She turned back to the worksheet. Miyano saw the decision in it and did not speak to her again.

Miyano supervised the remaining two periods as well. When the ancient and modern Japanese worksheets were done, the bell for lunch rang through the building. Self-study was over for the morning, and they were told to go home. Haruka went over to Miyano."Would it be all right if I stayed and studied here?""I'm sorry — I have to lock the audio-visual room and return the key."The hope collapsed, but of course it did. There was no convenient way to stay behind without anyone noticing."Right — I'm heading off then."Zen left without ceremony. Haruka had a vague impulse to call after him, but could find no reason to.She left the audio-visual room with Miyano and watched him lock the door."Is the key to the rooftop kept in the staffroom?"Miyano put the audio-visual room key in his pocket and answered in an unhurried tone."It is. In a spot students wouldn't be able to see even if they came into the staffroom. The deputy head keeps it."Haruka's eyes widened at how readily he offered that. Miyano continued."By the way, Nemoto-san — you said you wanted to stay and study. I'd suggest eating properly first and resting for a little while. You'll get more done that way."Haruka gave a silent nod. She parted from Miyano in the corridor and made her way to the art room on the fifth floor. It was a place where she could be alone at lunch — she always sat on the floor with the lights off and ate her bento there. She was enrolled in art as an elective and was used to coming and going, so sitting there without permission did not trouble her greatly.When she had finished eating, she sat with her knees drawn up to her chest and looked up at the ceiling. The art room was on the top floor, and beyond that wall lay the rooftop.She let the image come.A rooftop, and wind moving through it. A girl in a sailor uniform, standing alone. She calls the girl's name towards that back. Reaches out a hand. Almost close enough — and not.The girl turned around. She was crying.Haruka — I didn't get in. What am I going to do.— She came to with a start. Her shoulder jerked. The voice struck something deep at the back of her mind, like a sound that goes on ringing after the source has gone.Haruka's closed eyelids trembled. In the single moment of seeing the results board, Yuna had had everything taken from her. The wound her closest friend had been left with was Haruka's wound too.

On the second day of self-study, Haruka came into the audio-visual room to find Zen in the same seat as the day before. He had earphones in, but when their eyes met he tossed out a "hey.""Morning."She returned it, though it was unclear whether he had heard. Then he pulled the earphone from his right ear."You look better than yesterday.""Might be the weather. It was raining from early yesterday morning."When Haruka had left the house, the sky had been overcast as forecast, but the heavy rain clouds of the day before had lifted and a weak sunlight was coming through. A clean autumn breeze had touched her forehead through the gaps in her fringe, cool and pleasant."Okinawa's been clear all the way through, apparently. The sea must be so blue.""The blue in Okinawa is something else. You should go sometime, Nemoto."Zen took both earphones out and put them in his bag as he continued."It's not just blue — there's green in it, and deep indigo. It's clear all the way down, you can see the coral and the little fish right to the bottom. I'm serious."He rested his cheek on his hand, and at the end of his words gave a quiet, restrained smile."I've only ever seen coral reefs in photographs."Haruka turned in her seat to face him."Okinawa's sea has beauty and cruelty mixed together.""Cruelty — what do you mean?"The smile left Zen's face. He gazed into the middle distance of the room as though looking out towards a far horizon, and began talking about the times he had visited relatives."My uncle was a fisherman — but he stopped. The edible fish disappeared.""Why did they disappear?""Nobody really knows. The fish just dropped off sharply. But then more tourists started coming, so he set up a glass-bottom boat instead.""What's a glass-bottom boat?""A boat with a glass floor. You can see the coral reef beneath you. He took me out on it loads of times."Hearing the explanation, Haruka recalled something she had seen on television once — a celebrity on a boat drifting across cobalt-blue water, looking down at the sea below."When I was in primary school, I saw this reef that was completely white. I thought it looked amazing and laughed — and my uncle told me. They're all dead, he said."What came out of Zen's mouth was no fond memory. Now that Haruka understood what he had meant by beauty and cruelty, she found she could not say anything easily."He said, the coral turns white when it dies — nankuru naranu ne. And after he said that, I wanted to punch myself for standing there grinning.""That's an Okinawan expression, isn't it. Nankuru nai sa — wasn't it something like that?"Haruka asked, uncertain of the details, and Zen came back at once."Not everything can just be laughed off with nankuru nai. When I used to visit the relatives, the adults were always saying it — about the sea, about the bases. Nankuru naranai — this isn't something that'll sort itself out."At that moment, Haruka caught something in Zen's intonation — a faint but unmistakable shift. It occurred to her that perhaps the way he spoke at school every day was a suppressed version of something more naturally his own."My grandfather lost everyone — family, friends — and when the war ended, working on the American base was all there was. The base was what kept them alive, he said. And that hasn't changed, not really.""Still now?""Still now. There are loads of people who work on the bases or just outside them. If the bases disappeared, those people would lose their jobs.""But don't the people of Okinawa want the bases gone?""War is wrong, obviously, and yes, the bases should go — but it's not as simple as just get rid of them. I think about it. If the bases in Okinawa disappeared, would people somewhere else in Japan be willing to take on that pain? That's what the base issue comes down to, isn't it. And besides — I have American relatives. They're kind people."The person he was talking about was a US Navy serviceman — the husband of his mother's elder sister. They had married and moved from Urasoe to San Diego.Haruka had not been on the school trip, but she had covered the Battle of Okinawa and the base issue in the preparatory sessions. In truth, though, it had never felt close to her — she had not been able to make it real. Not until she heard it from him directly."Sorry. That got dark."Zen murmured it and gave a small, effortful smile. Haruka shook her head."I love Okinawa. When it comes up on the news I always stop and pay attention.""...Right.""I've got Okinawan blood running through me, and yet when I go there I'm an outsider. I pretend to understand but I don't really know what Okinawa is. That's what gets to me — it sits wrong inside me, somewhere I can't quite reach.""Is that why you didn't want to go on the school trip?""That's not the only reason. But I didn't want people in my class finding out my parents are from Okinawa. They'd ask questions I couldn't answer. And I couldn't picture myself just going along, acting like a tourist, keeping all of that hidden —"Zen's voice trailed off, and he glanced briefly at Haruka."There I go again. Too heavy. Right — stopping now."Don't worry about it — that was how Zen closed it. And in that moment, Haruka felt the distance between them open up.The conversation ended, and silence came between them. About ten minutes late, the supervising teacher came in.

"Nemoto-san, Uehara-kun — good morning."Miyano was standing just inside the doorway. Haruka kept her face still, but was thoroughly taken aback."You're late. And — you again, Sensei?"The low register of a few minutes ago was gone from Zen's voice; the usual easy lightness was back. There was something almost like barely suppressed delight in it. It turned out that Miyano had been assigned to supervise all three days. The first period on the first day had overlapped with a third-year class, so he had asked Sato to cover."Hm. Are teachers not very busy, then?""Well — I have considerably less on my plate than the permanent staff, I suppose.""Right. So why were you late?""I had a brief meeting in the staffroom."Haruka's gaze moved back and forth between the teacher and the boy. Watching the easy, practised manner in which Zen spoke to Miyano, she felt something like envy for how naturally and comfortably they talked with each other."...Is Miyano-sensei different from the other teachers?"This time it was Haruka who asked."I'm on a one-year contract.""So you won't be at this school next year?""That's not certain yet. But the probability is that I won't be."Miyano answered without hesitation. This person too will be gone. To varying degrees and in various forms, Haruka had always felt something close to aversion towards parting. Meetings led to farewells — that was simply how it was, and yet she had no resistance to it, even now that she was in high school. If it meant having to say goodbye, she sometimes thought it would be better not to meet anyone at all."Yes — history!"Zen's pleased voice broke through her thoughts. His eyes lit up at the sight of the social studies worksheet in front of him. He looked almost childlike for a moment, and something in it loosened the corner of Haruka's mouth, just slightly.

When self-study ended, Zen gathered his things without delay and headed out of the audio-visual room just as he had the day before. Knowing she could not stay behind either, Haruka left with him.Tomorrow, the final day, there would be no set work — they were free to study whatever they liked. Miyano locked the classroom and headed back to the staffroom, going in the opposite direction. As they walked along the corridor, Zen stopped without warning and turned around. Haruka pulled up short, startled. He had his hands in his pockets and seemed to have something on his mind."What do you usually do for lunch, Nemoto?"It was, in other words, a question about where she spent the lunch hour and with whom. Words turned circles in her mouth. She could hardly say she hid in a corner of the art room and ate her bento alone."I eat in the classroom."She said it knowing she had told a thorough lie, and felt the weight of it — but there had been no other answer."What about today?""I'm heading straight home."Another lie. Going home too early would stop her mother, who was there alone, from resting properly."I see."Zen turned back to face forward and walked on. Then Haruka realised her mistake. Zen was heading towards the shoe lockers, and since she had said she was going home, she would have to walk in the same direction — anything else would look strange."Uehara-kun — I just need to go back to my classroom for something."Zen turned at the sound of his name."Your classroom — really? It's the rooftop again, isn't it."He raised one corner of his mouth, tossed out a light "see you," and walked away. She watched his back recede and sent a silent apology after him, for all the good it did — the muddied feeling inside her did not shift. Keeping secrets was exhausting. Her father had managed to hide his affair from the whole family for years, and she found herself almost impressed by that, against her will.

The following morning the sky was clear from the moment of the commute. The forecast from three days ago had been wrong — a few faint streaks of cloud aside, it was an almost unbroken blue. Stepping off the train, Haruka was wrapped in crisp air and warm sunlight. She looked up and fixed her eyes on the sky, and the blueness made her head swim. But it was not the familiar dizziness — the kind where the asphalt seemed to spiral at the back of her vision. This was something else: as though her heels were lifting, and her whole body was being drawn up into the blue.She went into the audio-visual room. Zen was there first, as ever."You seem better today — is it the weather?"Zen asked, chin resting on his hand."Not bad, I suppose.""So the forecast tells me how Nemoto's doing. Useful to know.""Having no afternoon classes probably helps too."Miyano arrived shortly after, and the final free-study session began. Haruka opened her books for the end-of-term examinations next month; beside her, Zen had a maths workbook open in front of him and was reading a novel without so much as glancing at it.With less than an hour remaining, Miyano spoke to both of them."How about we set the studying aside and talk for a little while?"Haruka turned instinctively to look beside her."What about?" Zen asked.Miyano rested both elbows on the desk and laced his fingers together, his voice dropping quietly."Do you genuinely have no regrets about not going on the school trip?"Haruka kept her mouth closed. Zen did not answer immediately either. Something in the air began, quietly, to weigh."Are you saying the same thing as Sato-sensei, then? That we wasted something?"Zen turned a challenging look on Miyano. Miyano, for his part, kept his tone unhurried — the kind that might ease rather than tighten the tension between the three of them."Not at all. I asked out of personal curiosity. I didn't go on my school trip either. My form teacher told me at the time that by not going I was causing inconvenience to others."Haruka and Zen looked at each other. Their expressions had both gone still. Miyano continued without seeming to notice."I asked him: who exactly are these people I'm inconveniencing? And he said: can't you see that while everyone else is trying to make happy memories together, you're disrupting that?"Something crackled quietly in Haruka's chest — dissatisfaction, a sense of wrongness, a low resistance she could not quite name, all of it giving off small sparks. She did not fully understand what was happening inside her. She only felt a deep, insistent pulse rising from somewhere within. Before her mind had caught up, the words came out, as though struck loose from behind."I think memories aren't made — they're what you look back on and recognise afterwards. And sacrificing yourself for someone else's happy memories doesn't seem right to me."Miyano's brows rose. Zen turned to look at her. Both pairs of eyes on her — she held the part of herself that wanted to flinch, swallowed once, and went on."I don't regret it at all. If anything — studying here with Uehara-kun and Miyano-sensei is a good memory in its own right."What she had wanted to say and what had actually come out — there was always a gap between the two, and it never fully closed in either direction. She could not feel certain she had said it well. But her thoughts had become words, had left her hands — and in that, she felt something open and clean."Going on the school trip with everyone would have been one thing — but this is special in its own way, if you think about it. Only two students in the whole year."Zen's reading of it was cheerful, unguarded. Something in Haruka's shoulders let go in response.

"...Well — yes. I think it is something special."The warmth that had briefly settled over the room was cut short by a quiet, weighted remark from Miyano. He let the words hang there, reached into his bag, and drew out a single key."There's a reward for seeing the self-study through. Would you like to go — now, if you're willing?"Go where, exactly. A question mark floated above Haruka's head — but Zen drew in a sharp breath and held it, then murmured:"Don't tell me that's the key to the rooftop.""Quite right," Miyano said, narrowing his eyes. He had got permission from the deputy head yesterday and been entrusted with the key."So — Nemoto, what do you want to do?"The question landed squarely on her. She had assumed Zen would simply carry the conversation forward, but apparently he was waiting on her. How many times had she imagined stepping out onto that rooftop. The door that could not be opened without an adult. The door that was absolutely beyond her on her own. And now it was about to open. This might be a chance that never came again.And yet Haruka stared at the surface of the desk and said nothing. Now that the moment had actually arrived, something like fear rose in her. She could not name what she was afraid of. Only — she had the feeling that if she went up there, the memories of the past and the anxieties of the future would come down on her all at once, and the tension of that made her freeze. In the middle of it, a finger tapped lightly on the desk beside her. She turned."Either way's fine with me. You decide, Nemoto."I'll leave it to you. That was what Zen said.

***

On the north side of the building, beyond the staircase with its No Entry sign, there was a bare and forgotten stretch of space that the students had long since stopped thinking about."I'm not sure how you two manage to spend time here."Miyano had climbed the long staircase and was slightly out of breath. He rested a hand on his hip and looked down at the landing with a cool eye."It's comfortable."Zen glanced at Haruka — isn't it."It is. It feels settled."Haruka agreed, and Miyano gave a wry smile. He took the key from his pocket, held it out by the strap, and presented it to them."You can open it yourselves."Haruka took the key from Miyano. A small label had been fixed to the strap tag, with the word rooftop written on it. She held it in her palm and felt something quicken in her chest — as though the key itself held some kind of power."Which of us is opening it?"Zen's voice brought her back. She shifted her gaze, a little startled."Shouldn't I be the one to open it?"She had been left to decide everything up to this point. It had not occurred to her that the key would be anyone's but hers to turn."No — this calls for rock paper scissors."Haruka was taken aback by Zen's proposal, but could only nod.Miyano folded his arms, leant his back against the wall of the landing, and watched the two of them settle it. Haruka won. She allowed herself a small, quiet moment of satisfaction and let out a breath of relief. Then, without a pause, Zen called for a best of three. At yet another unexpected development, she said nothing, only let her eyes drift downward at an angle. She had meant it as a refusal — but it had not reached Zen at all, and he was fully prepared to go again."Fine."She agreed with reluctance, and a best of three it was. She had won every round against Zen so far, but this time she might actually lose.The worry turned out to be unfounded, and Haruka won all three in a row. The outcome was supposed to be mostly luck — and yet Zen was, by any measure, strikingly bad at rock paper scissors. He sulked, but a loss was a loss, and he moved on quickly. Just open it already."Let's open it together.""What? Together — are you serious?"Miyano, watching from the sidelines, had not made a sound — but by this point he could no longer keep the smile from his face. In the end, it was settled: Zen would insert the key and turn the lock; Haruka would push the door open.

Dust motes drifted through the landing, caught in the light, and glittered. The door swung open. Clean air moved across Haruka's face. The wind was gentle, the sky high and wide. Haruka and Zen ran out towards the blue.Haruka tilted her chin up and felt the breeze at the tip of her nose. Her fringe lifted. When she closed her eyes, sunlight seeped through her white eyelids."Nothing up here but sky. Haven't seen anything this wide and blue in a long time."Zen stood beside Haruka and let out a sound of quiet wonder."It's like the day of my grandfather's funeral. Okinawa's usually full of clouds — but that day it was dēji clear, really clear. I stood there looking at that blue sky, and I wanted to die."The brightness woven into his calm voice was slightly deliberate. As though he were trying to conceal the loneliness beneath it. Through every word Zen spoke, Haruka felt, with a kind of ache, how much his grandfather had meant to him."I couldn't accept it. Couldn't cry. I didn't go to the funeral — I didn't want to. Haven't been back since. But right now — I kind of want to go. To Okinawa."Zen showed the faintest edge of a smile. To Haruka, his profile looked as though it were smiling with a quiet sadness."Makutu sōkē nankuru nai sa. My grandfather used to say it to me all the time. It really is a kind of magic, that phrase."Haruka looked away from Zen and turned her face back to the sky.She fixed her gaze on something far away, and opened her mouth softly."...The middle school I went to — at lunch, you could use the rooftop. There were benches and tables, and I always used to eat there with my friend. My closest friend.""That makes sense. So that's why you wanted to come up here."Zen drew his mouth into a line of quiet understanding."But because of me... I can't see her any more."The breath caught in her throat. When she tried to go on, her throat ached. The blue of the sky blurred slowly in her eyes."It's my fault. All of it, my fault. But I don't know what I should have done differently. What would have been the right thing, back then..."Her voice trembled, and the end of the words was taken by the wind. Haruka realised Zen was watching her, and covered her eyes with the back of her hand. In the darkness behind it, his voice came through, clear and direct."Nobody knows what the right thing is. So you haven't done anything wrong. If you don't know what the right answer is — stop giving yourself a failing mark."The moment those words reached somewhere deep in her chest, the tears fell without stopping. She wiped them on the sleeve of her jumper. She lifted her face —

Haruka's eyes went wide.At the far edge of the rooftop, a girl stood alone. A summer uniform, out of season. A crimson scarf stirring in the wind, hair lifting softly. The girl had been looking up at the sky, and now she turned her face slowly towards Haruka and smiled — a quiet, gentle smile.With each breath of wind that passed through, her outline grew a little fainter. She did not look as though she were suffering. She did not look sad. She dissolved into the clear air, as though something in her had finally come to rest.It was her own past self.Haruka understood. Letting go of a painful memory was not a betrayal of her closest friend.Perhaps she was the only one who could go back for the self that had been left behind — and bring her home.The girl seemed to smile one last time, and then she was gone, softly, without a trace.

"...It's cleared up. It was overcast just a moment ago."Haruka turned towards the voice. Miyano was standing there, having just come out onto the rooftop, shielding his eyes with his hand in the uncertain way of someone unaccustomed to the light."Sensei — you came out. You were making a face like I hate the sun in there."Zen said it with a teasing lilt, and Miyano gave a small laugh."I'm not fond of it. But every so often. I was watching the two of you, and I found myself wanting to come outside."At that, Zen's eyes creased into a slow, satisfied smile."I feel completely free right now.""Uehara-kun is always free. The only thing that can make a person unfree is themselves."Nothing stood between them and the sky. They were at the highest point of the school, beneath all that blue. Haruka looked up at the drifting clouds and spoke."I understand now. There was never any past or future up here.""Nemoto?"Zen looked at her, puzzled. Haruka raised a hand towards the sky."I'm here. Right now, in this moment. That's everything."The blue stretching endlessly in every direction held neither past nor future. It simply held Haruka, as she was, now.

Parlour Clio stood in the shopping district near the station. Haruka had long since worked out why her father always wanted to meet at this particular café. It was a place the family had often come to when she was in the lower years of primary school — on the way home from weekend shopping, to celebrate Hayato's successes in the baseball club, on Mother's Day, Father's Day, Children's Day. Haruka had loved the strawberry mille-feuille here; Hayato's favourite had been the mont blanc. Their mother always looked forward to whatever seasonal cake was on offer, and their father, particular about coffee, had been vocal on the subject of not being able to get a freshly ground blend at home. She pushed open the wooden door of the café, which held so much of the family's history within it. A warm bell welcomed her in.The smell of roasted beans touched her nose. Jazz played at a volume that left room for conversation. She looked to the right side of the room and found her father in his usual spot, drinking black coffee.Half past four on a Saturday afternoon — the tea-time rush had passed and the café was quiet. Since they had started meeting like this, Haruka had stopped ordering the strawberry mille-feuille. She asked the server for a café au lait and studied her father. He had been shaving properly again recently, and his work, which had been going badly, seemed to be back on track. If anything, he looked more alive than before."There's something I need to tell you today."Haruka, who usually sat in near-silence, spoke first. The tone in her father's voice as he asked what was wrong held an uneasy mixture of anxiety and hope."Once we've moved, I won't see you any more."Piano and saxophone wove together, dancing through the melody. When she was small, her feet hadn't reached the floor from the chair, and she used to kick them in time with the music, nodding her head as she ate her mille-feuille. The same music felt wrong for who she was now. A silence followed, and then her father asked why."Because Mum and I are starting a new life.""Even so. You're not moving far away. I hear it's close to your school."With that, he began talking about the time Haruka was born — the flat where they had lived as a family of three with Hayato, and then the house they had bought on a mortgage, a new beginning for a growing family. Haruka had been attached to that house too, he supposed, and he was sorry it had come to this because of him — the apology was rehearsed, and it went on at length.He could probably talk about the past until dawn, she thought. This was his way of apologising — she could see that. But the words also felt like an attachment to the family they had once been. It looked at once like an attempt to recover something lost and like a man simply indulging in fond memories. Rather than waiting for some future in which the family might come together again, Haruka wanted to choose a new life."Are you actually listening to me?"She kept her face steady and looked directly into her father's eyes. A café au lait was set down on the table at that moment, but Haruka did not look away."The past has nothing to do with it."Don't look at me like that. His voice cracked slightly, slipping out of register. He was trying to laugh his way through this."This concerns all of us. Is Haruka really all right with the family falling apart?"Hayato had told her this was an adult matter. She had wondered whether to say it, but her father was not looking at her at all."Haruka — how does a person get everyone to forgive them?"He wanted another chance, he said. Something in the lost, grasping way he said it reminded her of who she herself had been not long ago. But she still could not understand what family meant to him — truly meant. Haruka took a sip of water, gathered her things."I'm going.""Are you enjoying high school?"She stopped. She bit her lower lip, then glanced briefly at the mug on the table."...Bye."She walked out quickly. Pushing the door open, she turned over Miyano's words in her mind — the only thing that can make a person unfree is themselves. The old door creaked. The bell sounded somewhere behind her head.Walking, she became aware of a saltiness at the corner of her lips. The wind against her cheeks felt sharply cold — her skin was wet, she supposed. She looked up at the evening sky. The birds were crossing it in formation, cutting through the air as though heading somewhere — a new place, or back to where they had begun. In the moment of becoming free, the wind always seemed to grow stronger.

Almost a week had passed since the school trip ended. When morning classes were done, Haruka made her way to the social studies preparation room with her lunch.Zen was there. He had got permission from a teacher to spend his lunch breaks in the room, and when he had come to tell her, he had added — you should come too. Since then, the room had become a new quiet place for both of them.Haruka took a individually wrapped sweet from her lunch bag."Chinsukō."Zen knew immediately what it was, and was quick to reach for it."A classmate brought them back. I got loads. Want to share?""Yeah."She opened the packet and held it out to him. He took one of the two pieces and ate it. Haruka bit into the other. It was lightly sweet and melted in the mouth."I had these for the first time the other day and was genuinely amazed. I've never had a biscuit this good."She said it plainly. Zen took a sip of his bottled jasmine tea. They were good, he had to admit — but they made you thirsty. He murmured "biscuit?" and then continued."They're made with lard, you know."Haruka's eyes flew open. Zen smiled to himself. Watching her stare at the packaging, he took his opening."I've decided — I'm going back to Okinawa over the winter holidays."He hadn't yet sent his grandfather off properly. He wanted to apologise for being so late, and to show him who he was now — that was what Zen said. His grandfather, whom he had been so close to, had died shortly after Zen finished middle school. At the time, Zen had gone to Okinawa with his parents, but on the day of the funeral he had disappeared and spent the whole time at the beach, looking out at the sea."I'm sure your grandfather will be glad."Haruka said it softly. Zen replied, with his usual easy manner, that he'd bring back chinsukō as a gift."You seem to be doing better too, by the way. Better than before, healthwise.""Yeah. Better."It still felt a little frightening to say those words aloud. But she had been able to say them — and that was because her mother had begun to change.Nakajo, back from accompanying the school trip, had written a letter to her mother along with a referral to the school counsellor.I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner. You don't have to keep bearing it alone.It was the first time her mother had ever apologised to her. It had been entirely unexpected — and yet, somewhere inside, Haruka felt as though she had been waiting for those words all along. The new flat was one they had chosen together, she and her mother. Walking distance to school, with buses running frequently. Most of all, being free from the packed commuter train was its own kind of relief."By the way — which track did you choose, Nemoto? Sciences or humanities?"Zen asked as he wrapped up his empty lunch box."Sciences. What about you, Uehara-kun?""Humanities.""Because you love history?"Haruka asked, putting her chopsticks away."Yeah. And I've been thinking about reviving the history research club."He had been talking to Miyano about it, but there were no members yet. He was going to put up a notice and see if anyone wanted to join — that was where he tried to leave it."I could help, if you like.""Really? That would be great. Are you joining?"She had honestly expected Zen to say he didn't need help. But as it turned out, a club needed at least two members to be officially recognised."Provisionally. That's all I'm saying."She had not said she was joining. Zen, who would in effect become club president, launched into one plan after another. His words had a kind of bounce to them, and Haruka found herself drawn into the rhythm of it without quite meaning to.She could have let it wash over her. But as she listened, something began to stir, slowly. A small light coming on somewhere deep inside — a quiet warmth spreading outward.She felt, now, that she could forgive herself just a little for having once longed to be part of a club.She had kept a lid on wanting things for so long. She had believed that being hard on herself was the same as being right. And yet something faint had always remained — a sense that did not quite fit.Why have I been living as though I deserve to be punished?Perhaps it was Zen who had first handed her that question.If you don't know what the right answer is — stop giving yourself a failing mark.Those words had gently lifted the lid she had kept pressed down for so long. She had been afraid to say I like this, afraid to feel I'm happy — afraid to let herself near those feelings at all. She had wanted things while pretending she didn't. She had hidden the part of herself that wanted, by refusing to look at it.So now — being able to hold her own feelings without turning away from them made Haruka glad. And being able to feel that gladness plainly, and call it gladness, without dressing it up for anyone else or making it into something to be proud of. Simply for herself.

The last Christmas Eve in the house where she had lived for sixteen years. Of the four who had once filled that space, only a mother and daughter remained. The preparations for the move after the new year were proceeding quietly. Sorting and clearing had changed the look of the familiar rooms."I'm off."Haruka had wrapped a red checked scarf firmly around her neck and was ready to go. She called through to her mother in the kitchen."Have a good time."Her mother turned only her face to answer. In the pot, vegetables and chicken were simmering. Cream stew for dinner, apparently. Would the smell of butter and milk be drifting through the flat by the time she got back?She opened the front door and the north wind struck her face. A wintry gust lifted her fringe in one swift motion. She would walk to the cake shop nearby — it was close enough to stroll to. By bicycle it would take less than ten minutes each way, but a cake needed to be handled with care.On the way, a father came towards her holding the hand of a girl who looked too young for school, and Haruka watched them as they passed. The small daughter, waiting eagerly for Christmas Eve, did not know that the person holding her hand was Father Christmas. She reminded Haruka of herself at that age. Unlike the time she had seen the mother and daughter at the hospital, she felt no envy now. Only a wish directed at the father: please don't let go of that hand.

Her phone rang in her pocket. She took it out to find a photo had arrived on LINE. It was from Zen."...Beautiful."The word escaped her before she could stop it. A pink sky, pale violet clouds. An orange sun sinking towards the horizon. The scene had something otherworldly about it — she felt she could be pulled right into it. Of course — Okinawa's beauty was not only coral reefs and white sand. She found herself envying Zen, who had grown up with landscapes like this untouched and waiting.Haruka set the photo as her new lock screen. She had liked the old one — a deep blue open sea and a headland in fresh green — but for this season, the new one seemed to fit better. She put her phone away and walked on.The cake shop was doing its best trade of the year, and the customers kept coming. As she was about to go in, the stained-glass door swung open and three girls came out looking pleased with themselves. The one who appeared before her made Haruka catch her breath.The girl's eyes went wide with surprise as she looked at Haruka."Yuna — what is it?"One of the girls beside her spoke.Haruka and Yuna looked at each other, and neither found any words. The bob she had worn in middle school had grown out, the ends curled, and she looked altogether more polished. Haruka found herself wondering how she must look to Yuna now."Do you know her?"One of the girls asked Yuna."...Yes."A voice she had not heard in a long time. It was calm."A friend."At those words, something shifted in Haruka's eyes.Yuna began walking away with the others. But she turned on her heel almost immediately and tossed back a single, easy remark."Merry Christmas. See you, Haruka."An unguarded smile — familiar, a little tentative — broke open across her face."Merry Christmas."Haruka returned it quietly, and raised one hand gently at her chest. She moved her lips without sound: see you. What rose in her was not I'm sorry but thank you and I love you.This was not the reunion she had imagined. Yuna had said it naturally, without hesitation — a friend. She had called her Haruka.They were still friends, properly, even now.She held the image of that smile as though pressing it into her eyes, so she would never lose it.Haruka said goodbye to Yuna and faced forward. The sky above her was a winter evening — clear all the way through, stretching without end.

fin

Translator's Note・This translation retains several words from the Okinawan language (Uchinaaguchi), spoken by characters with roots in Okinawa. These words resist clean equivalents in English, and their meaning is part of what the novel explores.・Nankuru nai sa — an Okinawan expression of quiet resilience, closer in spirit to "it will find its way" than to simple optimism. It implies a trust in the natural unfolding of things, without forcing an outcome.・Makutu sōkē nankuru nai sa — a fuller form of the same phrase: if you do what is right and true, things will find their way. The addition shifts the meaning from passive acceptance toward something earned.・Nankuru naranai — the negation: things will not simply work out. Used in the novel to name what reassurance cannot reach.・Dēji — very, or really. An intensifier, warm in register, that belongs to everyday speech.

・AI translation tools were used to assist with the English translation of this work, under the author's direction.

Author｜Watanabe Kaho
Born in Japan. Works with photography, writing, and audio-based expression, exploring themes of recovery and prayer.