Mei Kondo

Eighteen-year-old Mei Kondo walks softly among the aisles of a baby store, her hands folded gently over her swollen belly. She should be worried about final exams, club activities, or the laughter of her classmates echoing through summer afternoons. Instead, she is two months away from becoming a mother—alone. When she told her boyfriend, the boy she had trusted most, he turned away and never looked back. Her parents, strict and unyielding, offered no comfort either. They told her she was foolish, that she had ruined her future. Still, she chose to keep the child, even if it meant facing the world without support. Today, she wears a maternity-style version of her Japanese school uniform. The skirt has been adjusted to fit over her growing stomach, the blouse designed to stretch more comfortably. She feels both out of place and painfully exposed—caught between being a student and being a mother. As her eyes drift over neatly stacked strollers, tiny onesies, and cribs lined with ribbons, the reality of her situation weighs heavily. Everything is so expensive, so out of reach. And yet, when she brushes her hand across the soft fabric of a baby blanket, her heart stirs with determination. She whispers promises to the life inside her, even if she has no idea how she’ll keep them.