I didn’t know how long I’d been lost in the blend of memories and dreams, but Himawari eventually called me for dinner. Karaage; I really must have worried her. Still, I had no appetite after that, barely eating anything.

“Does it not taste good?” Himawari asked.

I somehow smiled, shaking my head. “It’s great, I just don’t feel well. Oh, how about I have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow? I should be better by then and I don’t want to miss out,” I said, scrounging up every bit of energy I could.

She weakly smiled. “Okay,” she whispered.

It wasn’t okay, but this was the best I could do right now.

If I didn’t already know how much I was worrying Himawari, an hour after dinner, someone knocked on the front door. It took me a moment to leave my room, Himawari already standing by the closed door.

Seeing me, she said, “It’s Kiko-sensei!”

“Really? And what’s she doing here?” I asked. Himawari ducking her head, I patted it. “It’s okay, I’m not upset.”

It took a little organising, but Himawari went to her room to read and I made a cup of tea for Toyama, acting like there was nothing unusual about her turning up at this hour. Silence, until she finally spoke.

“Hima-chan’s worried about you.”

I awkwardly smiled. “Sorry about this, I just didn’t have much of an appetite, it’s nothing serious,” I said.

Toyama stared at me, like she could see through my lie. Sure enough, she said, “It’s not because of that. It’s because you didn’t come home with Sakura-chan and spent all afternoon in your room.”

My smile managed to become even more awkward.

Softly sighing, her gaze dropped to her cup. “As your homeroom teacher, I’m here to offer support and advice if you’re having difficulties with your friends, but I won’t interfere. As Kiko, I hope you make up with each other.”

I shrugged, then mumbled, “She just needs some time.”

“Well, I’m here for you in the meantime, okay? You’re not alone,” she said with a warm smile.

My heart squeezed, yet it didn’t feel bad. No, I felt… reassured. Feeling like she cared about me calmed me, embracing my heart and holding together the fractured pieces.

It echoed, reminding me of how “I” felt with Sakura, that gentle reassurance, that little bit of courage, that spark of hope. And it reminded me of some other feelings, my gaze drawn to Toyama’s smile, to her lips. How “I” wanted Sakura to always be smiling, how I wanted Toyama to always be laughing.

The realisation washed over me in a kind of giddy warmth, equally absurd and undeniably true: I was crushing on Toyama. Maybe not enough to call it love, but enough to know. Although I would’ve liked to blame this body for influencing me, it was in love with Sakura, this crush on Toyama all mine.

Riku Toyama. Riku. I wanted to call her that to see her embarrassed reaction, ducking my head to hide my silly smile at the thought.

She apparently misread, reaching over and putting her hand on top of mine, giving a little squeeze. “Is there anything I can do for you now?”

“You can stay,” I blurted out.

Cringing, I buried my face in my arms, cheeks prickling. Before I could come up with anything to excuse what I’d said, she spoke.

“Okay, until Hima-chan’s asleep.”

My breath stilled, so surprised for a moment, then the giddiness flooded in again, unreasonably happy about her just staying here for an hour or so.

She apparently misunderstood “who” my request had come from, spending the time focused on Himawari. Not that I cared. It was enough to sit next to her on the couch, glancing at her every few seconds, my lips curled in an unsquashable smile. A childish crush. I knew I couldn’t ask for more, knew that I was only a child to her—her student. That was okay.

This feeling of loving someone was enough.

After watching TV for a while, she helped Himawari get ready for bed. It was so nice seeing how she treated Himawari. Like Himawari was my own daughter, I loved her and I loved people who loved her. Echoing and reverberating feelings.

Then Himawari was asleep and Riku was going and all I wanted was for her to stay, if only for a second, if only for another laugh, another glance. Wherever I looked, I found desire. I wanted to run my hands through her short hair, to poke her cute nose, to know how soft her lips were. Desire fuelled by desire, endless when she was in front of me.

Yet didn’t waver once the door shut.

“Oyasumi,” I said loudly, ear against the door.

I heard her muffled chuckle from the other side, heard her say it back. “Oyasumi.”

Just for her, I would have a good rest.

After tidying away everything for the evening and sorting myself out, I went to bed. Those memories from earlier still lingered, but, now, stayed outside. They weren’t echoing in my head, instead letting me watch them as an impartial observer, detached from it all.

Not of “my” past, but mine.

“You’re unloveable.”

I’d believed her, tried to prove her wrong, unwilling to accept anyone else could love me and pushing them away if they tried. And over time, what she’d said twisted.

“You’re unable to love.”

It didn’t matter what kind of guy, how he treated me, I couldn’t believe his feeling were real when I felt nothing. Only, I now realised how much I did feel. It wasn’t romantic, but there was a bit of love, a bit of wanting him to be happy.

On the other hand, I recognised now those little crushes I had on other women. My mum had really messed up my ability to make friends with other girls. Even before my dad left, she’d drilled into me how all women were sluts, putting on smiles while plotting how to steal “your man”. And I saw what she meant, other girls so pretty, confusing my attraction for jealousy. Well, maybe I was jealous—jealous those girls were more interested in my boyfriend than me.

Silly, meandering thoughts aside, since I had come to this strange heaven, I’d found love. Not exactly my love, but I carried on the love this body felt. I loved Himawari, I loved Sakura, I loved Natalie, feeling their gentle love for “me”.

And I was in love with Riku. I could come up with a million reasons why, but that felt like it missed the mark. I wasn’t in love with her because of any reason. I was in love with her because that was how I felt. A small love, thinking of her making me smile, glancing at her making me giddy, wanting to stay with her for just a second more. I didn’t expect it to go anywhere, being her student, but I was excited to see how my feelings would grow. She was such a good person, funny and cute, I couldn’t imagine how I wouldn’t fall deeper and deeper in love with her.

All the pain and doubts washed away with this warm tide of feelings, I fell asleep easily, surely smiling.

But it wasn’t a dream that awaited me and certainly not a place to smile.

“Greetings,” she said, honeyed voice as soothing as the sight of her. Tall and lithe, draped in the sheerest white, she showed so much and yet so little. Her golden hair shone with an ethereal glow as it loosely fell over her shoulders, framing large, silver eyes and a soft face.

Her beauty wasn’t lost on me this time. Honestly, it hadn’t been the last time. It probably wasn’t normal for a straight woman to look so closely upon even a goddess.

That said, I appreciated her beauty, but my gaze didn’t linger. Looking at her didn’t make me feel the same as when I looked at Riku. And that realisation filled me with a sudden and intense anger, coiled around my heart as my face showed nothing.

“Is that it, then?” I coldly said. “You taught me my lesson and now I can move on? Or am I not entertaining enough now I know?”

She laughed, a tinkling laugh that bordered on a chuckle, conveying her amusement as clearly as words. “You think so little of me?” she asked.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

She answered with a smile that hid a thousand secrets, then said, “I have someone I wish for you to meet.”

With that, she slid to the side and revealed me—“me”. I stared at the body I’d seen in the mirror the last few weeks, then looked down, my hands different—familiar. I was me. And if I was me, and that was “me”….

“That was your heaven? Why?” I asked, voice cracking as the darkness rushed back in. What kind of a person would have asked for that?

But “me”, Mi, just looked down, saying nothing.

Before I could push them to answer, the goddess reached around Mi’s shoulder. “You seem to be under a misunderstanding. Did I say I would send you to another person’s heaven?”

My train of thought derailed, I stared for a moment, then clarity set in. “You said about an off-by-one error….”

She answered with the sweetest smile of someone having far too much fun.

Only able to take her word as the truth, I looked at Mi again. Not at a person who had wished for that heaven, but who had lived in that hell, and I broke. Striding over, I watched as she flinched, tried to hide behind the goddess, but I had to hug her anyway.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, resisting the urge to squeeze her too tight, just trying to hold her together—because I knew how close she was to falling apart. “You did really well. Your mother would be so proud of you, I know it.”

And in the tiniest voice, she asked, “Really?”

“Really,” I whispered, punctuating that word with a kiss on the top of her head. As if I’d pressed a button, she melted into my embrace. How could someone be so fragile and so strong?

“I’m so proud of you,” I said, stroking the top of her head.

The forgotten goddess took that as her cue to speak, probably jealous after being ignored. “You two are soulmates, not in the romantic sense, but that the very essence of who you are is identical, while your individual pasts make you both unique. As such, the greater balance wouldn’t notice if you happened to swap places, yet the unwritten future would surely change.”

“I don’t care, just don’t you dare send her back there,” I said, stepping around to put myself between Mi and the goddess.

“I am afraid that is not up to you,” she said, her smile back in full, sickly sweetness.

My stomach dropped and, before I could turn around to look at her, Mi softly said, “I’ll go back.”

Pulling back to look her in the eye, I whispered, “You can’t.”

She smiled, so fragile and so strong. “Thank you… for helping me,” she said, tears in her eyes. “But I can do it now. I, I want to protect Hime with my own strength, and I can’t, I can’t leave Sakura hurting.”

“Mi,” I whispered, my hand instinctively coming up to pat her head, but I stopped.

Yes, she was a child, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make her own decisions. Who was I to disagree with her?

No, out of everyone in the world, I knew intimately why she wanted to do this, and I knew what she needed to hear from me.

Pulling her in for another hug, I patted her back. “Ganbare. I believe in you.”

She breathed in, and—

I woke up.

Not “I”, but I woke up.

The same ceiling I’d seen for years, the same bed I’d had for years more, the same trickle of sunlight around the same curtains. I was me again, an English woman.

Was it all a dream?

Everything felt so vivid and, after recalling some of it, I realised Japanese words I’d never heard before still lingered. Heart aching, I whispered, “Ganbare, Mi-chan.”

Gradually, new memories sunk in. Things I’d done the last few weeks. Obviously, work, but I went for a walk around a park one evening, went out to try sushi, bought a game on my PC, a collection of scented candles.

It wasn’t the empty days I was used to. It wasn’t the cycle of work, order food, stare at social media, sleep. My careful, safe routine, keeping me comfortably numb.

We’d really swapped.

I smiled to myself, glad Mi had enjoyed her “break”. However, it didn’t take long for me to realise something, to remember something else: an email address.