Ch.306IF Side Story: Seems I’ve Arrived a Bit Early (3)

I seriously pondered what shame really is.

So… for example, a high school student wouldn’t feel embarrassed about wearing a school uniform. That’s natural, isn’t it?

In places like America, students might attend school without uniforms and in casual clothes, but this is Japan, and where I lived my previous life was Korea.

Similarly, there’s no reason to be embarrassed about wearing gym clothes.

In Japan, elementary school students carrying their distinctive randoseru backpacks isn’t strange either. Rather, it’s become such a “stereotype” because it’s a common item or attire for that age group.

The same probably applies to the clothes worn by kindergarten children.

Yes. If the person attending kindergarten is actually of kindergarten age.

Normally, children attending kindergarten are of an age appropriate for kindergarten. What I mean is, no matter how much someone’s mental age might be similar to those children for various reasons, they wouldn’t attend “kindergarten.”

Even if someone’s mental age regresses, their physical age still becomes that of an adult. Naturally, having such people among kindergarteners would inevitably cause various problems.

But then, what about the opposite case?

“……”

“……”

Kagami’s words, “I want this child to grow up normally,” seem infinitely sincere.

And for Kagami, the scope of “growing up normally” seems to include educational institutions that children without major life disruptions naturally go through: kindergarten-elementary school-middle school-high school.

Kindergarten isn’t mandatory, and one can drop out of high school, but they’re still within the range of “places most people attend.”

Thanks to that, I ended up wearing the uniform that kindergarteners wear.

I would start kindergarten tomorrow, but first I needed to buy the things and clothes required for attendance.

Just like buying a school uniform before entering high school.

“……”

And Kagami, who had dressed me in that kindergarten uniform, looked tense in many ways.

Actually, I understand the situation to some extent. It’s a bit embarrassing, but to others, it’s just natural attire.

Unfortunately, it’s difficult for me to show the excitement of “a child thrilled about wearing new clothes.” As I aged, that kind of sentiment died completely within me.

That’s probably why Kagami is tense. If a child looks awkwardly expressionless after being dressed in new clothes, one might think, “Don’t they like it?”

“W-wow….”

I tried saying that.

“Pretty.”

“R-really?”

Though a bit delayed, when I showed such a reaction, a relieved smile spread across Kagami’s face.

After living with Kagami for a few years, I’ve learned that she’s more conscious of others’ reactions than I expected.

I don’t know what kind of world this is, or why Kagami had to flee with me like that.

In the novels and manga I used to read, worlds where one is reborn are usually fantasy settings, but I haven’t felt anything like that since coming to this world.

I don’t seem to have any special powers either.

“Kotone.”

Kagami said, lifting me onto her lap.

“From tomorrow, you’ll be with new friends at kindergarten.”

“Yes.”

I’ve thought about how a three-year-old should respond in such situations, but realizing it’s meaningless to worry about it now, I decided to keep my answers short.

Everyone already thinks I’m a precocious child anyway, so what can I do?

“You’ll be okay, right?”

“Yes.”

It’s been fine so far.

When I stood blankly in a corner of the playground, the children playing there naturally included me.

Kindergarten will have teachers too, so it might be easier. Rather than doing nothing and playing, it might be more comfortable to listen to something like lessons.

“Kotone is a smart child, so you’ll do well.”

“Yes.”

Actually, the person who should really be worried isn’t me, but Kagami.

Kagami is also at an age to “play with friends.” She’s not a young child like me, but she seems to be around high school age.

A child who has deviated from the path of a “normal child.”

A child too young to be called a mother.

…Surely, both the situation where she had to give birth to me and the situation where she had to flee with me must have been far from “normal.”

“Well then, shall we change again? Let’s go to bed early today.”

“Yes.”

I raised my hands at Kagami’s words.

I could change clothes by myself, but Kagami always wanted to do everything for me.

I don’t know much about early childhood education either. I think I’ve heard somewhere that it might be problematic if someone tries to do too much for a child.

…….

Well, it probably doesn’t matter.

It’s not like my knowledge will disappear just because Kagami does things for me.

Until I grow up to some extent—probably until I become an adult—I planned to accept Kagami’s actions.

After changing clothes and washing up in the bathroom following Kagami’s guidance, I lay down in the same place as her.

Kagami hugged me tightly once, then laid me down on the futon spread next to her own.

She kissed my forehead lightly and looked down at me for a moment.

A face still too young.

But already, the image of a “mother” had settled on that face.

That fact was a little sad.

“Good night, Kotone.”

Kagami said, stroking my hair.

“Good night.”

I say.

A delicate voice. Still, too young.

A voice without any power to help the young child before me.

*

I was actually a bit worried.

In both Japan and Korea, when a woman not even in her twenties walks around with her child, the gazes directed at her aren’t always kind.

If Kagami looked older than her age, it wouldn’t matter, but to me, Kagami looked either very similar to her actual age or perhaps even younger.

The lady who helped us before didn’t seem to care about such things, but when people gather, it wouldn’t be strange to find those kinds of people among them.

People who can’t imagine what others’ situations might be like, people without empathy.

I had already met the kindergarten teachers, but I didn’t know how the parents would react when they met us.

“Kotone.”

As if aware of this fact, Kagami squatted down to look me straight in the eyes before we left for kindergarten.

“If anyone bullies you at kindergarten, you need to tell mommy.”

“Yes.”

“If you tell me, I’ll do something about it.”

When you’re young, adults seem like beings who can accomplish anything. And as you grow older, you gradually realize that’s not the case.

If I were truly a young daughter, would I have felt that way looking at Kagami?

“Yes.”

I nodded and answered Kagami.

Kagami hugged me tightly again.

Then she stepped back and looked at my face quietly.

Her hands cup my face.

Though her appearance was youthful, Kagami’s hands were already a bit rough.

Despite being at an age when one would typically start using makeup, there was no trace of it on her face. Instead of the vibrancy typical of teenagers, the weariness characteristic of working adults was visible under her eyes.

But Kagami’s expression as she looked at me was never dark.

It was the gaze of a proud mother, as if looking at something truly admirable.

Yet I hadn’t done anything.

Just by being together.

Kagami smiled at me.

“Well then, have a good day.”

“Yes.”

I nodded, and then for the first time in a very, very long time—yes, even counting all the memories of my previous life, truly a long time.

“I’ll be going now.”

I said those words.

Turning around, I saw the kindergarten teacher who looked at least seven years older than Kagami.

Even that age, in fact, was young enough that it wouldn’t be strange to call her a new employee. People who have worked for about 20 years might call her “young.”

Kagami was much younger than such a teacher.

I didn’t sense any prejudice on the teacher’s face. She simply greeted me lightly, just as she would with other children.

She kindly explained her name and took my hand.

I raised one hand slightly and looked back.

There stood Kagami.

As if my boarding the kindergarten bus was more important than all the major affairs in the world.

Like someone who had fulfilled a wish.

I waved my hand toward Kagami.

Kagami also waved back with a smile.

Following the teacher onto the bus, the children’s gazes turned to me. Perhaps they were curious about the new child boarding.

Well, at their age, even a crawling ant would be fascinating.

There was one seat left by the window, so I sat there and looked outside.

Kagami continued waving her hand until the bus departed, and even after it started moving.

She kept waving continuously until the bus turned the corner and was no longer visible.