Chapter 2: Days in Elementary School

When I was little, my father had already passed away, and my mother raised me on her own.
From morning until night, she worked without regard for weekends.

Even in the midst of that busyness, my mother cooked meals, kept the house clean, and paid attention to me as well.
However, meals eaten alone were tasteless.

At school, I had classmates around me during lunch, but because of my personality, there was no such thing as having a fun conversation.
At the time, all I could do was think things like “lonely” or “boring,” and I couldn’t put it into words properly—but now I understand.

That was what you call “loneliness.”

By the time I was in third grade, bullying directed at me had begun.
It was only three classmates who held power in the class, but to me, an elementary schooler, it was nothing short of hell.

Gradually, I stopped eating my lunch in the classroom and began looking for places where I could be alone.

I ate in various places, but in the end, I came to eat in a toilet stall.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I recently learned that this is what people call “toilet lunch.”

During meals, I stayed inside a stall, but when someone came in, I would hold my breath.
Of course other people use it, so it was only natural for them to come in, and it was actually me—the one not using it for its intended purpose—who was causing trouble, but that is something I can think only now, after becoming an adult.

One day, while I was doing that, I was seen coming out of the toilet holding the wrapping from my lunch.
From that day on, my nickname became “Hanako.”

A girl supernatural being who appears if you knock three times on the third stall of the third-floor restroom and call out “Hanako-san” — “Hanako-san of the Toilet.”
There can be no other origin than that.

After that, I looked for places where I would be found as little as possible.
Behind the school building, a stairway landing — I tried various places, but in the end, where I arrived was the restroom on the third floor of the old school building.

Being called “Hanako,” and in the end returning to the toilet—perhaps that was fate.
That it would become hope was something I could never have known at the time.

The third floor of the old school building was not used for classes and was a place no one came to.
That was why it was perfect for being alone… or so I thought.