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  Rhythmic exercises, as you now know, is a required course for girls in the Q School system. They say that when you move your arms and legs in different directions at the same time you exercise your brain; it’s supposed to be the kind of exercise that prolongs your life. But I never practiced the steps at home, so I was never any good at it. Of course, if you were the first one to make a mistake, you attracted attention. So I tried to hang in there until others started to mess up and get disqualified. I was doing just that when Yuriko came by with Kijima Junior. I noticed them staring at the class.

  I hadn’t seen Yuriko for some time, and in the interim she had grown even more beautiful. Her breasts were now so full it looked as if they would come bursting through the white blouse of her school uniform at any minute, and her hips, high and round, pressed tightly against her tiny tartan skirt. Her legs were long and straight and perfectly shaped. And then there was her face: her white skin, her brown eyes, and her expression, so soft and beautiful; she looked as though she were constantly getting ready to ask a question. Even an immaculately crafted doll could not have been as lovely.

  I was so surprised by the way Yuriko had matured that I lost my concentration and missed one of the steps. Those who made a mistake had to leave the ring of dancers. My exit from the ring was earlier today than I had hoped, and it was all because of Yuriko. I hated her for sneaking up on me. I hated her more than I could stand. Get the hell out of here! I screamed at her in my heart. Then I heard my classmates’ derisive laughter.

  “Look at Kazue Sat—dancing like a friggin’ octopus!”

  Kazue was doing her best to keep up with the music. She didn’t want to lose to Mitsuru. Besides, she had to prove me wrong; hard work does pay off. Her face was creased with concentration while Mitsuru’s was calm and cool, her arms and legs moving lithely left and right. She was so graceful she made it look more like a ballet than a gym exercise. And then Kazue caught sight of Yuriko and stopped dead in her tracks with a look of astonishment. At last she’d seen a monster. When I saw the shock on Kazue’s face I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

  “Sorry about earlier,” Kazue said. She had come chasing after me as soon as class was over. “Shall we let bygones be bygones and just try to get along?”

  I didn’t answer. Kazue’s sudden change in attitude made me wary.

  “Your younger sister…” The sweat was pouring off Kazue’s forehead in rivulets, and she didn’t even try to wipe it off. “What’s her name?”

  “Yuriko.”

  I couldn’t tell if Kazue was jealous or impressed or bitter. Her voice was thick with some kind of strange excitement.

  “Wow, even her name is pretty, isn’t it. I can hardly believe she’s even the same species as us!”

  Kazue’s words were so inflamed with feeling that she continued to repeat the same lines over and over as the pungent smell of sweat wafted from her body. It really was a pungent smell—signalling the intensity of Kazue’s feeling for Yuriko, I suppose. Without thinking I lowered my face. It was clear that Kazue’s world was changing, now that she’d caught a glimpse of the monster.

  Yuriko had just left the school grounds with Kijima Junior. To see the deviant little Kijima tagging along after Yuriko led me to suspect he was up to no good. I wanted to pay the little twerp back for the humiliation I had suffered in the earlier class. I decided then and there that I wanted to drive the Kijima father-and-son team out of school along with Yuriko as soon as I could.

  A few days after this, as I was leaving school, I heard Kazue come bounding after me. She pressed a small envelope into my hand. I opened it up while I was on the train. The letter was written on two sheets of girlish notepaper printed with violets. Kazue’s handwriting was pretty but lacked distinguishing characteristics.

  Please forgive the informality of this letter.

  Both you and I are outsiders at Q High School for Young Women. You have come to my house, you have met my parents, and so you are perhaps the person with whom I am most likely to become friends. My father told me I shouldn’t interact with you because your background is so unlike my own. But if we communicate in letters, I’m sure he won’t know. Shall we send each other letters from time to time like this? We can confide in each other and talk about our studies.

  I think I have probably misunderstood you. Even though you are an outsider like me, you always seem so composed that I feel you’ve been a student at this school for a long time. And then you’re always talking to Mitsuru, so it’s hard for me to get close to you, and when I do you keep your distance.

  I don’t know what the other students at Q High School for Young Women are thinking (particularly the insiders!), and I feel very out of place. But I am not ashamed of myself. I had my sights set on entering Q High School ever since first grade, and I got in on account of my hard work—and my hard work alone. So I have confidence in myself. Why shouldn’t I? I believe I am going to achieve my goals. Things are going to turn out well for me, and I will lead a happy and successful life.

  But there are times when I’m not certain what to do, and I don’t know whom I can talk to. And so without really thinking, I’ve written to you. There’s something troubling me. May I please discuss it with you?

  Yours,

  Kazue Sat

  Phrases like Please forgive the informality of this letter must have been something she copied from a letter-writing primer for adults. The very image of her sitting there copying from a manual made me laugh. I certainly had no interest in discussing her problems with her. But I was curious to know just what this troubling matter was, and I did want to know what was going on in her head. I suppose there’s nothing more interesting than other people’s problems.

  That night, while I was absentmindedly turning thoughts like that over in my mind, I worked on my English homework. My grandfather, who was preparing the evening meal, stuck his head out of the kitchen and asked, “Did you say the Blue River bar is owned by the family of a kid in your class?”

  “Yeah. Her name’s Mitsuru and her mother works there.”

  “Well, that’s surprising. I thought we were the only ones from a place like this with a kid at the Q High School for Young Women. But then the other day I met a fella who works security at the Blue River in front of the station. He’s a graduate of the same school as the super here. They’re good friends, it seems, and the super’s always going over to his place. He called me to go by and look at some plants that were giving them trouble, and that’s how I learned the daughter of the mama-san there goes to Q High too, and it sounded like she was in your class. So I’ve been thinking I might go by for a drink, given our connections. Coincidences like that make life worth living.”

  “Yes, why don’t you? Mitsuru’s mother told me to tell you to stop by sometime.”

  “Did she? I was afraid I’d just be a nuisance, being such an old fogy and all.”

  “I don’t think that matters. As long as you’re a customer, that’s all that counts, right? I already told her about you—that you like bonsai—so I’m sure she’ll be happy for you to come by.”

  I was mostly just humoring my grandfather. But it seemed he took my words to heart. The next thing I knew I heard him in the kitchen, happily rinsing the rice and chopping vegetables.

  “I bet Blue River’s pretty expensive. All the hostesses are young. I wonder if they’ll give me a bit of a discount.”

  “Don’t worry,” I replied. I was more interested in Kazue’s letter. I pulled it out, placed it on top of my English textbook, and read it again. I decided to ask her about it tomorrow.

  “I read your letter. So what’s this problem you wrote about?”

  “Let’s talk where no one else can hear us, okay?”

  Acting like she was getting ready to reveal classified information, Kazue led me to an empty classroom. “It’s kind of hard to talk about it with someone else,” she said.

  “But you want to talk about it, don’t you?”

  “Okay, here