The Bridge To Nihon (BOOK ONE)

Chapter 30 - The Headmistress

Sofia followed the headmistress to a large table. There were papers and open books lying on it. Spots of ink on the wood and several writing pens were scattered. Somebody seemed to be working there.

The headmistress made a gesture, and it became empty and ordered, the wood shining as if it had been polished. Sofia looked around to see if somebody would object, but nobody did. Nobody paid them any attention, everybody kept going about their business

Sofia wondered if they could see them at all.

"You have arrived quite late," the headmistress said. "But the School has never sent a pupil away. There will be a place for you to put your abilities into the School's service."

"My – my abilities?"

Sofia's back stiffened. The previous warmth had vanished from the headmistress' face. She studied Sofia with an interest that could only be described as scientific. It made Sofia feel like a malleable object, and the headmistress was the potter, trying to determine the best shape to mould this clay into.

"Don't worry. Everybody has things they are good at. The School is the best place to determine what they are. You are twelve years old, is that so?"

"Yes. I think so."

"That is quite old. And you have little experience. And yet –." The headmistress looked at Sofia inquisitively.

At last, she said, as if she was merely finishing her sentence,

"– you have made it to the School without being caught. You have come here, you were not brought. That is impressive. You learn quickly. And you accept new conditions."

"How do you –," Sofia started.

"Know that? The School has an intuition based on millennials of information and experience. That does not mean it is never wrong. But it greatly reduces the probability." She gave a little smile, but it wasn't explicitly friendly. "The School has seen enough children to know that they all think they are unique. But it also knows this is rarely the case. There is no reason to assume that you are."

A coldness spread through Sofia, originating inside her bones. She was surrounded by rows and rows of shelves with no end in sight, trapped inside a history that was not hers. And if she was a part of it, then she was so small that the mere dust would smother her.

There were mostly students of different ages and a few adults with the severity and pinched faces of teachers. None of them paid the least bit of attention to Sofia, as if her presence was as familiar and unsurprising as that of an old book on top of a shelf that hadn't been opened in centuries.

"But I'm not from here," Sofia said to the headmistress, lowering her voice into an urgent whisper, even though she was only admitting what the headmistress had just alluded to.

"Nobody is from here."

"Yes, but I am not –" Sofia lowered her voice even more, "– from Nihon."

Again, the headmistress' expression didn't change. It resembled the stillness of the statues.

"Not everybody is," she said calmly.

Sofia heard her heart beating. She cast a look around as if those that were from her home would suddenly reveal themselves.

At the same time, she felt despair at having become unexceptional. How could she expect to get help if she was just one of many? And how many people was the headmistress even talking about? She seemed completely unimpressed by Sofia.