kind of true, I guess. A lot of residents work for elite companies in downtown Tokyo. There are self-made businesspeople too, and people who are just rich.”
“I’m starting to get the picture. So we have some middle school girls from well-off households—and maybe their parents too—who are proud of their wealth, and they think they’re on a different level from people who’ve been living in Ikuno for generations.”
“I think they’re right. About being richer, I mean.”
“So they call the ‘native’ residents aborigines. With prejudice, of course.”
“Yeah. They do. Mika’s family used to farm too. They still have a little land in the city, growing vegetables and such.”
Kenji shook his head with resignation, entered “aborigine” in the search term box and hit ENTER . The left window overflowed with hits.
“Okay, let me look at this first,” said Kenji. He turned the laptop slightly away as Kotaro craned his neck to see. With nothing to do, Kotaro sipped his tepid coffee and listened to the background music.
Finally Kenji spoke. He kept his eyes on the screen as he scrolled through the messages. “Did Mika mention anything about a boyfriend recently?”
Kotaro had no idea.
“Maybe someone said he liked her?”
“I haven’t heard. Kazumi might know something.”
“Has she ever called herself ‘Mikarin’?”
Kotaro was surprised. “She’s pretty quiet. I don’t think she’d give herself a cute nickname. She’s so shy, she practically hides behind Kazumi. My sister is the outgoing one.”
“There’s a lot here.” Kenji kept the screen turned away. “Just scrolling through this, it doesn’t look like a lot of people are involved. But they all seem to be members of the soft tennis club. Some of them are third-year—there are comments here about high school entrance exams. Your sister is a second-year student?”
“Yes.”
“Her name is in some of these posts.” Kenji waved a hand reassuringly. “The comments aren’t negative. In fact, the posters seem a little worried your sister might find out.”
Kotaro was so nervous about what Kenji was seeing that he bit his lip reflexively.
“I’d have to backtrack to be sure, but it sounds like some third-year guy is the cause of all this. Somebody who used to be in the club.”
“Is he the one bullying Mika?”
“No. He’s interested in her. The other girls aren’t too happy about that. They keep bitching about it.”
Kotaro couldn’t help but lean forward for a look at the screen. “What are they saying?”
Kenji scrolled down the posts. “They’re being pretty rough on her.” He turned the screen so Kotaro could see for himself.
Raw language is perfect for expressing raw emotions. Kotaro was astonished at what he was seeing.
I can’t believe that slut keeps showing up for class.
Aborigines don’t know their place.
Mikarin doesn’t have nerves. If you killed her, she might not even die.
I hope she dies quick, she’s seriously getting on mine.
Kotaro looked up from the screen. His eyes met Kenji’s.
“This is bad.” Kotaro was in a cold sweat. “I mean, ‘slut’? Do these people know what they’re saying?” The surface of Kotaro’s now-cold coffee had a skin of creamer. The aroma was gone.
“I’ll get some water.” Kenji returned with two glasses. The two men drank it silently, thinking.
“You told me the school called Mika’s mother?” Kenji kept his voice low. Kotaro nodded, still holding his glass.
“That would mean they know about the site. I wonder what they told her mother.”
It hit Kotaro suddenly that things might be the other way round. “Mika’s grandmother told me the school called Mika’s mom, but that doesn’t mean she was right. Maybe Mika’s mother contacted the school.”
“She would’ve done that only if Mika went to her for help.”
“Which means her mother knows about this site too.”
“Not necessarily. The girls posting here have got to be treating
“I’m starting to get the picture. So we have some middle school girls from well-off households—and maybe their parents too—who are proud of their wealth, and they think they’re on a different level from people who’ve been living in Ikuno for generations.”
“I think they’re right. About being richer, I mean.”
“So they call the ‘native’ residents aborigines. With prejudice, of course.”
“Yeah. They do. Mika’s family used to farm too. They still have a little land in the city, growing vegetables and such.”
Kenji shook his head with resignation, entered “aborigine” in the search term box and hit ENTER . The left window overflowed with hits.
“Okay, let me look at this first,” said Kenji. He turned the laptop slightly away as Kotaro craned his neck to see. With nothing to do, Kotaro sipped his tepid coffee and listened to the background music.
Finally Kenji spoke. He kept his eyes on the screen as he scrolled through the messages. “Did Mika mention anything about a boyfriend recently?”
Kotaro had no idea.
“Maybe someone said he liked her?”
“I haven’t heard. Kazumi might know something.”
“Has she ever called herself ‘Mikarin’?”
Kotaro was surprised. “She’s pretty quiet. I don’t think she’d give herself a cute nickname. She’s so shy, she practically hides behind Kazumi. My sister is the outgoing one.”
“There’s a lot here.” Kenji kept the screen turned away. “Just scrolling through this, it doesn’t look like a lot of people are involved. But they all seem to be members of the soft tennis club. Some of them are third-year—there are comments here about high school entrance exams. Your sister is a second-year student?”
“Yes.”
“Her name is in some of these posts.” Kenji waved a hand reassuringly. “The comments aren’t negative. In fact, the posters seem a little worried your sister might find out.”
Kotaro was so nervous about what Kenji was seeing that he bit his lip reflexively.
“I’d have to backtrack to be sure, but it sounds like some third-year guy is the cause of all this. Somebody who used to be in the club.”
“Is he the one bullying Mika?”
“No. He’s interested in her. The other girls aren’t too happy about that. They keep bitching about it.”
Kotaro couldn’t help but lean forward for a look at the screen. “What are they saying?”
Kenji scrolled down the posts. “They’re being pretty rough on her.” He turned the screen so Kotaro could see for himself.
Raw language is perfect for expressing raw emotions. Kotaro was astonished at what he was seeing.
I can’t believe that slut keeps showing up for class.
Aborigines don’t know their place.
Mikarin doesn’t have nerves. If you killed her, she might not even die.
I hope she dies quick, she’s seriously getting on mine.
Kotaro looked up from the screen. His eyes met Kenji’s.
“This is bad.” Kotaro was in a cold sweat. “I mean, ‘slut’? Do these people know what they’re saying?” The surface of Kotaro’s now-cold coffee had a skin of creamer. The aroma was gone.
“I’ll get some water.” Kenji returned with two glasses. The two men drank it silently, thinking.
“You told me the school called Mika’s mother?” Kenji kept his voice low. Kotaro nodded, still holding his glass.
“That would mean they know about the site. I wonder what they told her mother.”
It hit Kotaro suddenly that things might be the other way round. “Mika’s grandmother told me the school called Mika’s mom, but that doesn’t mean she was right. Maybe Mika’s mother contacted the school.”
“She would’ve done that only if Mika went to her for help.”
“Which means her mother knows about this site too.”
“Not necessarily. The girls posting here have got to be treating
Similar Books
