Kaiya trudged up the boulevard, face locked in consternation with the memory of Masuma’s heartbroken expression.
“This one,” Masuma had said, pointing to a thick book with green binding.
“That shouldn’t be here,” Kaiya had said, flicking through the pages. The book was one she remembered reading over a year prior. She hadn’t even made it near the end of the first third before she aborted the attempt in disgust at the protagonist’s behaviour. “I think you’re a bit young for this.”
“I still want to try it,” Masuma had said.
“But why? There are so many other things you could do. Why spend all that time struggling through something that’s too difficult for your age?”
“Because I don’t have a choice,” Masuma had said. “I have to be able to read it.”
Masuma had looked up, then, her eyes shi
