4. Kaho, Singapore & Tokyo, 20XX
First of all, for Kaho, the thing to remember, as soon as speaking of the landscape in Singapore, was the brightness and saturation of its color, like ink used in Japanese calligraphy, diluted with water.
It was like gray, yet not just any gray, more like a shade soaked with abundant water, adding a muted tone to the entire view no matter how vivid the colors of the neon signs scattered here and there as far as she could see as if signaling meaningfully with a gimcrack, cheap vibe.
That was why the view never seemed too overwhelmingly, thanks to such a watery touch. Ultimately, everything Kaho saw through the windows of school buses felt no less elusive than a scene from distant memories in her dreams.
It was still dark when Kaho got on a school bus every morning. Children from 1st to 6th, that was to say, from the initial to the final grade of elementary school gathered at the bus stop in front of the condo. They didn't usually carry the type of heavy leather satchels that almost all the children in Japan used but had more casual backpacks on their backs, so they wore an excited mood as if they were departing for an excursion.
"Well, all of the daily life in Singapore was like an ongoing excursion," Kaho reflected, "because almost all the students at Japanese school were only there temporarily due to their parents' jobs. Even though you get close to one of your classmates, they will move back to Japan because of their parents's job transfer soon or later, and another new classmate will join the school. With so many turnovers of classmates coming and going, I felt like I had been traveling all year endlessly with a vacation-like vibe. And then, your turn will come soon, you must go back to Japan someday, but for Joe...,"
"Hey, Takashi. Joe still isn't here. He must have missed the bus."
Kaho, an elementary school student at 10 years old, said, looking around.
"Seriously? Hey, Mom, please call Joe's! Joe isn't here."
Takashi shouted toward his mother, who was standing a bit apart from the point of the children waiting for the school bus. At the Japanese school in Singapore, parents were expected to accompany their kids to the bus stop every morning and after school.
"OK, I'll do that."
Takashi's mother seemed to take her cell phone out of her pochette.
But, Kaho suddenly shouted, "That's Joe coming! Hurry up, Joe, run!"
From the large glass door of the entrance, Joe walked out, following his mother.
"Morning, Joe. You're late!"
Kaho scolded Joe like she always did against his behavior as if she were his older sister.
"I was not able to get up this morning."
Joe mumbled, still half-asleep.
"Hey, the bus is coming!"
Takashi declared as if he were a sea captain standing at a ship's bow.
Joe remained sleepy, with an expression that was as if stifling a yawn.
The door opened and Anti Choi, a Singaporean attendant of the bus allocated to each bus hired by the Japanese school, stepped down from the bus.
All the kids began getting on the bus in a hurry.
When the bus started running again, Kaho shook her hand to greet her mother, who was also shaking her hand with other mothers in the dark air.
The departure of school buses was every day's ritual to set off a day. It's still dark in Singapore. Kaho remembered the outside of the bus windows passing rapidly and leaving such images on her mind: watery ink color with dim tone.
"Kaho, hey Kaho."
The voice seemed to have reached her deep place. She suddenly came to herself.
Takashi apprehensively gazed at her.
"Are you OK? You looked strange today. Are you tired or sick?"
"Yes, I am supposed to have lost mojo recently maybe because of my unfamiliar school life."
She hadn't intended to show any weakness to Takashi, which was her attitude towards him that she had developed over the years, so as soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted it. But it was too late.
"You're not exactly the type to adapt quickly to new environments," Takashi said with a worried tone, uncharacteristic of him. "But once you settle in, I'm sure you'll find your footing again."
Takashi was usually the one to tease her endlessly, which often reached the point of her frustration. Of course, they met in their elementary school days and Takashi was just a little boy, but therefore his behavior had never changed until their secondary school days like a daily routine.
His gentle concern caught Kaho off guard and even made her sad.
"Well, I've got a plan today. Wouldn't we call Joe together right now?"
"Call Joe? Seriously?"
Kaho blurted out louder than she meant to.
Kaho, Takashi, and Joe were always a trio in those days, and they should have been inseparable. However, one day, the situation had changed, at least for Joe.
"I decided to stop being friends with you two."
Joe declared.
Kaho vividly remembered that moment. It must have been sweltering as it was always so there and Joe, who was naturally fair-skinned and had barely tanned even after living in Singapore for a long time, looked especially pale.
"Joe, relax."
Takashi tried to calm Joe down, but Joe was dead serious.
"If I can't see you anymore, I don't want to be sad, missing you two. So I'm choosing to forget you. This is the last day of our team."
It was the day Kaho told Joe that her father's assignment for Singapore was about to be over and her family would return to Japan shortly. Takashi's father's assignment would remain, but Takashi himself would return to Japan to enter high school in Japan.
Then Joe began to implement his decision.
Of course, Kaho had tried to persuade Joe out of such a behavior until she left Singapore. But Joe no longer appeared before Kaho and Takashi as well as rejected any online message from them. In the days before the graduation ceremony of the school, many students were absent from school because they had already left Singapore, because of entrance exams at Japanese high schools. So, it was not unnatural for Joe not to appear at school.
As a last resort, Kaho wrote several letters by hand and put them into the actual mailbox of his home and just before heading to the Changi Airport to catch an airplane back home, Kaho knocked on the door of his condo. When Joe or his family refused to open it, Kaho shouted through her tears, "You're indeed stupid!!" The memory of the pain in her throat from screaming still came back to Kaho again and again as if it were hurting right now.
To be continued...