The Last Magic Chapter 2

02: At Elementary School

I often wondered—what exactly is "normal"? My parents always said things like, "Normal people do this," or "That’s not normal," but nothing ever really felt normal to me.

When I started elementary school, my mother told me:

"Don’t hang around with strange kids. Try to make friends with normal ones, okay?"

So I looked around the classroom, trying to figure out who the "normal" kids were—but I couldn’t tell.

The only thing I knew for sure was that I should avoid befriending that kid—the one from the sorcerer’s family.

Nagumo Sakurako. A girl with sharp eyes and an intimidating aura. Definitely not normal. But… I was a little curious. She was cool-looking, with long, glossy hair and pale, pretty skin.

When I got home, I asked my mom about her.

"There’s a kid from a sorcerer’s family in my class."

"A sorcerer? You mean Nagumo Sakurako?"

Mom already knew her name but frowned deeply.

"She does stand out. There’s something… off about her. Well, she is from a sorcerer’s family. Sorcerer have always had a bad reputation—mixed up with cults, fraud, that sort of thing. You should be careful."

Her expression made it clear: if I got too close to Sakurako, I’d be in trouble.

As time passed, I made a few friends. But I still couldn’t tell if they were "normal." Some were good at sports, some weren’t; some were smart, some weren’t; some were pretty, some… not so much. Even their clothes were different.

"My family only buys Uniqlo," some said, while others wore stylish brand-name outfits. My own wardrobe was mostly Uniqlo, with a few exceptions. Maybe that was normal?

But the more I thought about it, the stranger it seemed to judge friendships like that.

Sakurako didn’t have many friends, but she was close to Shiba Rin, the class leader.

Rin was athletic, loud, and full of energy—the kind of girl who could beat up boys without breaking a sweat. She might as well have been a Pretty Cure heroine. At first, I thought she was too intense to be normal, but she was so cheerful and fun that I found myself wanting to be her friend.

When I asked Mom about her, though—

"She seems a bit violent. I’ve heard she causes trouble. You shouldn’t get too close."

she said. 

I couldn’t deny that Rin had a temper—she was always hitting or kicking boys. 

But usually, they deserved it, so I didn’t mind. (Though I did think she should’ve just scolded them instead.)

At first, Sakurako was teased for being "the sorcerer’s kid." But thanks to Rin, that stopped. If that was the "problem," then the real problem was the kids doing the teasing.

Was being "normal" really that great?

One day, I finally asked Mom:

"What is normal?"

"Not being weird," 

she said with a look that added, 

"Why are you asking something so obvious?"

But I’d started noticing something:

People who talked about "normal" often used it in bad ways.

They’d dismiss things they didn’t understand with "That’s just how it is, right?" Or they’d snap, "Why can’t you just be normal?" when someone couldn’t do what they could.

Maybe… it was okay not to be normal.

In the second semester, Sakurako started bringing a black book to school—a magic textbook. If she studied hard, she could learn to cast spells. 

But this was a secret. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.

The reason? Her parents didn’t like magic. At home, she could barely read the book at all.

So Rin and Sakurako made a request during class:

"Can Sakurako bring her magic book to school?"

The teacher looked troubled, but the whole class agreed.

Rin, the popular girl, had already talked to everyone beforehand:

"Please let Sakura study magic here."

And when Sakurako bowed and said, "Please," everyone was surprised—she usually acted so aloof. 

Some even cheered her on: "You can do it!"

Truthfully? Most kids didn’t care. As long as it didn’t bother them, it was whatever.

Faced with unanimous approval, the teacher sighed.

"Bringing unrelated books to school is against the rules… but I’ll pretend I don’t know. You all have to keep this a secret from your parents and other teachers, though. If word gets out, we’ll have to stop."

The teacher said with a serious expression.

Surprisingly, the secret held. I’d expected someone to slip up, but if anything, sharing the secret brought the class together.

That’s why my first-grade memories are so fond.

We’d all worked as one to make something happen.

On the last day of first grade, we worried:

What would happen to Sakurako-chan’s black book if the classes changed? Was there any solution? We all racked our brains over it.

"What if we just convince everyone who ends up in the same class as Nagumo-san?"

Someone even threw out that ridiculously bold idea.

Sakurako-chan and Rin-chan both looked a little uneasy.

Then, the teacher walked into the classroom, and the final homeroom period began.

Right away, the teacher said:

"Some of you may have been concerned about Nagumo-san’s magic book."

I was stunned—and I’m pretty sure everyone else was too.

(How did the teacher know?!)

I thought.

"But starting next year, she’s officially allowed to bring it to school."

The teacher smiled warmly.

For a second, none of us processed it. Then, after a beat of stunned silence, Rin-chan leapt up.

"YES! SERIOUSLY?!"

she exclaimed joyfully.

Her shout of joy was followed by the rest of the class erupting into cheers.

Even cool, composed Sakurako-chan was left speechless.

The teacher continued:

"The principal has approved it, the PTA gave the okay, and Nagumo-san’s parents have consented. So there’s nothing to worry about."

"Huh? What does that mean?" 

Rin-chan blurted out, sounding a little dumbfounded.

"It means she can study it both at home and at school."

The teacher’s voice was gentle.

"R-Really?!"

For once, Sakurako-chan raised her voice.

"Really. As long as you keep up with your studies."

But since Sakurako-chan was already the top student in class, that condition might as well not have existed.

"You did it, Sakurako!"

Rin-chan grabbed Sakurako-chan’s hand and shook it wildly up and down.

The whole class laughed—it was a heartwarming scene.

That day, when I got home, I told my mom everything that had happened. It wasn’t a secret anymore, after all. I might’ve been a little too excited.

But Mom didn’t seem surprised at all. Her reaction was… kind of underwhelming.

After listening, she just said:

"Oh, I’ve known about that for a while. The teacher mentioned it at the PTA meeting."

"Huh?!"

For a second, I felt betrayed. We’d been told not to tell anyone—yet the teacher had gone and told the adults first?!

"They said, ‘The kids came up with this on their own, for their friend’s sake. For now, could you please just let it be?’ And they bowed while asking. After that, nobody could really object. Though Nagumo-san’s mother did look conflicted."

"Oh…"

My nose stung a little. So the teacher had been fighting for us too.

"But why is it officially allowed starting next year?"

"Because nothing went wrong in the second or third terms. You kids proved it could work. That’s why the principal approved it."

It felt like all of us had been acknowledged. And that made me happy.

"But, Mom…"

"What?"

"You don’t like ‘weird’ stuff, right? Wouldn’t you normally be against this?"

"Hmph." Mom snorted. 

"Of course I don’t like it. Special treatment like this? It’s questionable. But listen—a first-grade girl is trying her hardest to chase her dream. What kind of adult wouldn’t support that? If you started doing something weird for your dream, I’d cheer you on the same way. That’s what’s normal."

(Huh. Maybe ‘normal’ isn’t so bad after all.)

That’s what I thought on the last day of first grade.