kscans

Chapter 7 - Snowman and Music Box

After kindergarten ended, the children who lived in the same direction would all walk home, led by a teacher. The route was meticulously planned to pass by each of the children's houses, and a slow thirty-minute walk was enough to make the rounds.

February, 1974. Despite being within a one-kilometer radius of Sapporo Station, cars were still a rare sight in this area, and only the main roads were paved. The walk home, kicking at the pebbles on the gravel roads and gazing at the changing nature with a good friend, was a fun bit of fieldwork for the children. All of this was perhaps only possible because the kindergarten was located right in the middle of a residential area.

Incidentally, children heading in the same direction wore matching ribbons on their smocks, and the cuteness of the color was a rather important matter for them. Tsukie lived west of Tenshi Kindergarten on North 12th Avenue, so she wore a navy blue ribbon. The children going south wore yellow, and those going north wore green.

And the coveted red ribbon was tied prettily onto the name tags on the left chests of children who commuted by bus or subway. Tsukie was incredibly envious of this red ribbon, but even at just six years old, she understood that they couldn't just move for the sake of a ribbon.

That all changed a few months ago. The ribbon on Tsukie's chest changed from navy blue to red. All her navy-ribbon friends were very jealous, which made Tsukie feel a little proud.

Just after the new year, her sister Hinako, who had just turned one, was admitted to Hokkaido University Hospital. Her mother was staying with her, so no one was home when she returned. It became Tsukie's daily routine to spend the time after kindergarten at the hospital until her father came to pick her up in the evening.

Hokkaido University Hospital was located about two blocks north of the Kita-Juni-Jo Station on the Namboku subway line, which had opened in 1971, the year of the Sapporo Olympics. It was right next to the university's famous ginkgo avenue.

Back when they were going to the hospital for Hinako's check-ups, Tsukie had seen the avenue of ginkgo trees covered by a canopy of what looked like falling yellow leaves, and she had been overcome with an urge to walk right down the middle of it. She begged her mother, and when there were fewer cars, she walked down the road, putting on her best, most sophisticated air.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves sparkled like gold, and she felt just like a princess in a fairy tale.

Of the children with red ribbons, three took the bus north from Ishikari Street, and five took the subway from Juni-Jo Station. After seeing them off, Tsukie would have a teacher help her cross the road in front of the university, say goodbye, and then walk the rest of the way to the hospital along the university wall.

She waved goodbye to her teacher and hurried to the hospital gate. As if to psych herself up, Tsukie clapped her red-gloved hands together. She scooped up some clean white snow from the shadow of the gate and made a small snowball. She rolled it until it was about the size of an apple, set it aside, and then made another, slightly smaller one, which she placed neatly on top.

A snowman. She pulled off her right glove with her teeth and rummaged in the bottom of the yellow kindergarten bag slung over her shoulder. She pulled out two green ohajiki marbles and a red button. She pressed them in for the eyes and mouth. She took off the scarf from around her neck, wrapped it around the snowman to hide it, and hurried to the pediatric ward.

She was on familiar terms with all the nurses in the pediatric ward, so she crept down the hallway, terrified they would discover the snowman hidden in her scarf. They would probably get angry if she brought in something made of snow from outside. She knew that, but she couldn't forget the conversation she'd had with her yesterday.

The long bench on the staircase landing was their secret place. They loved to sit there side-by-side and talk forever.

"You know, I've never touched snow before," Akina said.

"What? Why not?" Tsukie was astonished.

"Because I get sick in the winter, so I'm always in the hospital. And Mommy says I'm not allowed to touch anything from outside."

"But it snows so much every year, you get sick of it."

"It's no fun just watching from the window. Ah, I wonder what snow feels like. I wonder if it's cold when you're buried in it."

It was a confession from Akina, who had never felt snow seeping into her boots and getting chilblains, never gotten her underwear soaked while playing in the snow and caught a cold, never swum in a drift of powder snow, and never eaten it, pretending it was shaved ice.

Tsukie was shocked that a child growing up in this snowy country could exist, and she felt she had to let her touch the snow, no matter what.

She tiptoed past her sister's room, careful not to make a sound, and went straight to the room next door. For some reason, the Pink Panther theme was playing on a loop in her head.

She reached Akina's room. She peered in from the doorway, checking for Akina's mother or any nurses. It was okay. No one was there.

Tsukie ran to Akina's bed by the window, trying to keep herself hidden.

"Akina-chan."

She called out in a hushed voice. Akina's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled happily when she saw Tsukie's face.

"Oh, sorry. I was sleeping. I was going to wait for you on the stairs today."

Tsukie shook her head vigorously.

"Don't push yourself. More importantly, I have something amazing for you today."

Lowering her voice even further, Tsukie took out the mini-snowman wrapped in her scarf. Akina's eyes went wide at the sight of the slightly goofy-looking snowman that appeared before her. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment, and she inhaled to let out a cry of delight. Tsukie quickly put a finger to her lips, hissing, "Shh! Shh!"

Akina froze, her breath still held, and clamped her right hand over her mouth. She blinked a few times before finally letting her breath out.

"Soooo cooool! Can I hold it? Can I hold it? Can I hold it?"

Her voice was a mere whisper, but Akina was squirming so much she couldn't stay still. She jumped off the bed.

"You'll get in trouble if you get wet."

"I don't care. I'll just say I wet the bed."

Tsukie laughed and handed the snowman to Akina. Akina's left arm was bandaged and useless, so Tsukie helped support it with her right hand. Akina couldn't seem to contain her excitement, and as the snowman settled with a thud in her palm, she shivered and said, "Whoa..."

"It's so cooold... Even packed snow is cold, isn't it, Tsukie-chan?"

Akina was overjoyed, amazed by the obvious. She had probably only ever felt falling snow before.

"If you hold it for too long, you'll get chilblains. Let's put it on the windowsill."

"Won't it melt?"

"It will, but the windowsill gets so cold that milk freezes on it, so I think it'll be slow."

"Oh, okay..."

Placed on the windowsill, the snowman's slightly lopsided head looked as if it were tilted, giving it a certain charm. Tsukie folded a helmet out of yellow origami paper and put it on the snowman's head, and Akina wrapped a knitted lilian cord around its neck like a scarf. It was a cute pink scarf.

The two of them looked at each other and giggled.

"You know, Tsukie-chan, I have something I want to show you, too."

With that, Akina pulled a small, silver object from under her pillow.

"What is it?"

"Dad sent it to me. It's a lighter, but..."

Akina's parents were divorced, and her father lived somewhere that required several train transfers to reach. Tsukie remembered Akina once saying sadly, "They broke up because of my illness," and her chest tightened a little.

"A lighter? Why?"

Even Tsukie knew it was a tool for lighting cigarettes.

"Uh-huh. Now listen closely."

Listen? Tsukie tilted her head in confusion, and at that moment, a cute melody began to play from the small lighter in Akina's hand. A clear, cool tone. It was a music box.

"Whoa!"

This time, it was Tsukie's turn to cover her mouth. She clamped both hands over it to stifle her cry of delight, then let out her breath with wide, blinking eyes.

"That's amazing. That's so amazing. It's so cute."

When the chorus of 'Let It Be' began to play, Tsukie swayed her body to the music. Akina happily joined in.

In the 1960s, oil lighters with built-in music boxes were produced in Japan. The top half of the lighter contained the oil tank and ignition mechanism, while the bottom half was the music box. A small knob for winding the spring on the bottom of the lighter was its distinguishing feature. Of course, without oil, it wouldn't light, so it could be enjoyed simply as a music box.

Around that time, jewelry boxes where a ballerina figurine would spin to the music when opened were popular among children, but one small enough to fit in the palm of your hand was a rarity.

"That's amazing. That's your treasure, isn't it, Akina-chan?" Tsukie said as she danced.

"No. Let's make it our treasure. Both that snowman and this music box."

Akina's smiling face as she said that and the words 'our treasure' made Tsukie so happy. At that moment, she swore to herself that for Akina, who couldn't leave the hospital, she would protect her, she would do anything to make her happy.