What should I call the feelings I’ve been experiencing since coming to this world?
I don’t think I’ve seriously pondered that until now.
It’s not like I’ve never read this type of novel. As I’ve grown older, carrying physical books became bothersome, and since my house got smaller, it’s been hard to keep things neat, so I mainly read e-books.
In fact, I rarely even did that, just working, coming home dead tired, sleeping like a log, washing up, eating, going out for more work, and sometimes, when I had a strange bit of free time, I’d read just to fill it.
When did I stop reading novels? When did I stop watching movies or reading comics?
…Well, I guess it probably started after I got a job—
—No, after I lost my entire family one morning, everything in the world simply became a hassle.
What was the reason I was alive?
My family had relatives and friends.
My parents couldn’t meet friends often since they were busy taking care of my sister and me, but the bonds weren’t completely cut off.
My sister, who was just about to enter university, was in the same boat. She had quite a few friends from elementary to high school.
Many people came to the funeral. It was a funeral for three people, and of course, all of those three relatives and acquaintances showed up.
Most of them I haven’t contacted since then. I rarely exchange messages with relatives during holidays, and sometimes there were those who came by to check on me and maybe shared a meal. They were all people I was grateful for. But everyone had their own lives. Their lives were not so easy that they could put up with my tantrums.
There were friends too… Yes, there were friends. There were those who stayed by my side all night at the funeral, not saying a word as I lay there in a daze.
When life became too difficult and I thought of family, I’d meet with a few friends, drink like crazy, and erase my memories. It would help a bit. When the film cut, there was no room for dreams to creep in.
Those friends who knew my situation kindly understood, but as we grew older and families started forming, such things became almost impossible.
So, I’m really sorry, but the reason I was alive wasn’t because of those people.
Maybe.
I…
Ironically, it was because of the memories of my family that I was alive.
Once the three of them suddenly left me, I felt like I was the only one who could fully remember them.
There are probably many who remember them as relatives or friends. But that’s not the memory of family. It wasn’t the memories shown to each other by accident, just the way things were.
It wasn’t the memories of family.
I was the only one who remembered my mom as mom, my dad as dad, and my sister as sister.
If I die, that memory will disappear.
The reason I was alive was because of that attachment.
I didn’t want to erase my family from this world. So I clung and clung, barely holding on with a few fingers.
And yet, I struggled not to dream. I didn’t want to remember my mom, dad, and sister as corpses.
Right. That’s how it was.
How could I have forgotten?
“……”
“Koto Ne?”
I heard someone calling me.
When I turned my gaze, Koko was tilting her head and looking at me.
She was wearing a blue striped yukata. No, maybe a white striped one? I couldn’t quite tell which was the base color. The yukata, with its tight diagonal lines, gave a very dynamic impression and suited Koko well.
“Yeah.”
When I replied, Koko blinked her eyes.
Was it the first time she saw this expression on my face?
The faint light from the small pond illuminated Koko’s face.
She had a look that seemed to be worried about me.
…….
If I said I recognized my sister’s face in that expression, was I getting overly sentimental?
My sister used to have that expression when I got my first job too.
It was my sister who nagged me every time I smoked. Was it because if I smoked, I might not be able to claim compensation later when I get lung disease?
I had gotten annoyed with my sister several times when she scolded me for even a bit of smoke lingering on my clothes.
In the end, I quit.
Even after becoming alone, I still never smoked. It was probably because of my sister. Though I never really thought about it consciously.
“Why?”
Koko asked.
Was she asking why I had made that expression?
“……I wonder.”
I answered blankly and looked back at the pond.
Several lanterns were floating on the small pond, clustering together.
*
Fukuda said, “No black!”
Since I’m not well-versed in Japanese culture, at first, I thought I shouldn’t wear black yukata during Obon.
It makes sense since it’s the time the souls are returning, but the next thing I heard completely denied that notion.
“You both have really dark hair. It looks nice, but you’ll definitely look unlucky, right? You’ll end up looking like a widow who lost her husband early.”
“Harumi!”
Yamashita made a snorting sound as if he couldn’t believe it, and Miura shouted in panic.
But it was somewhat right.
After all, my hairstyle tends to be on the gloomy side. With no plans to change it, it would just reinforce that image.
Koko was the same.
To begin with, Koko’s hair wasn’t even hair; it was long, flowing flesh. If I cut it, Koko would hurt, and the stylist would lose their mind with the blood flowing everywhere, so I had no inclination to have her groomed at a salon.
Furthermore, since I had no intention of changing my hairstyle, Koko, following my lead, had no choice but to stick with this hairdo.
Anyway, because of that, the black yukata I had initially chosen went back on the hanger.
Instead, Fukuda chose two yukatas that were similar to Koko’s.
To be precise, they had diagonal stripes but were symmetrically patterned.
“Twins, huh?”
Fukuda’s reasoning was very simple, and strangely enough, Miura, Yamashita, and even I all agreed.
In conclusion, Koko and I will wear yukata of the same pattern but in a mirrored way. When Koko stood to my right, stripes formed a V shape, and on my left, they shaped an S.
“Looks pretty, suits you well!”
Fukuda, who first picked a yellow yukata with a bit of floral print, lined us up and took several pictures with her phone.
If it had just been the two of us in yukata, it might’ve felt a bit embarrassing, but our whole group was decked out. Everyone was all set to enjoy the festival.
After that, following Miura, Yamashita, and Koko, I walked while listening to Fukuda’s somewhat strange tales, and this is how we arrived at the shrine.
In Korea, the Harvest Festival, which similarly lasts three days, usually has a subdued atmosphere on the last day when people return home. In fact, even if I go back to my hometown, it isn’t particularly festive or party-like. It just feels like a family gathering, with relatives gathering and kids playing among themselves.
Well, somewhere in the country, there may be a festival happening, but I’ve never participated in one.
However, even on the last day of Obon, the shrine was packed with people. It wasn’t as spacious as Fukuda claimed. No, it is spacious, but how should I put it?
Um, right. It doesn’t feel quite as vast as a bona fide tourist spot you’d find in places like Gyeongju.
In the pretty extensive space of the shrine, there was a tower-like structure for people to climb, and around it, people had room to move.
Some people were already dancing.
I think I’ve seen this in a manga. I don’t know what it’s called, though.
Everyone seemed to know what it was, but since I didn’t want to sound clueless, I didn’t just ask. I thought I’d look it up later.
And around it, there were food stalls. While I can’t say the quantity was massive, they were clustered closely together, making it seem like a lot. Maybe it was an optical illusion?
Koko tilted her chin up and sniffed the air.
There was a delicious smell. I smelled grilled squid, and something that seemed like batter cooking. Occasionally, I could hear the joyous shouts of kids.
“Do you want to eat?”
“Yeah!”
Before I could respond to Miura’s question, Koko quickly answered.
“What Koko wants…”
“No, no.”
As I was about to take my coin purse from my bag, Miura grabbed my hand.
“I really want to buy for you.”
Miura’s eyes sparkled, shining even through her glasses.
“……Okay.”
Somehow, I nodded in response to her enthusiasm.
Was Miura an only child?
Maybe that’s why. When you actually have a younger sister, you bump heads more often than one would think, but it’s something outsiders wouldn’t know.
“Here, Koko, over here.”
“Wuwu?”
As Miura took Koko toward the crowd, Koko hesitated a bit and turned to look at me.
Koko’s attitude tends to be somewhat ambivalent. She doesn’t seem to like crowded places, yet she doesn’t fully despise the lively atmosphere either.
That’s probably because of what she went through.
Being captured by someone and being chopped up to be put in a refrigerator.
So, she spent time avoiding people and living alone and lonely.
Everyone would remember that.
“I’ll go with you.”
It didn’t matter since we all had to move together anyway, but saying it out loud sometimes helps.
Koko’s face brightened at my reply.
Miura took Koko’s right hand, which she hadn’t grabbed.
It didn’t feel soft at all, and it seemed like there were good bones inside.
I felt a strange sensation, just like when I saw Koko sweating. But this time, it was much better than before. I had simply decided to accept it.
…With so many people around, the area near the stalls was more crowded, and it took almost ten minutes just to get the food.
“Haah, haah.”
Koko, who popped a takoyaki in her mouth, seemed both funny and cute as she blew on it.
After all, does she feel hot even with that body? If so, then sweating isn’t that strange.
Watching Koko, I also took a takoyaki and popped it in my mouth—
“Haah, haah.”
…And ended up doing the same thing.
It was hotter inside than I thought. It felt like taking a steaming hot bun straight out of the steamer without letting it cool and biting into it.
The taste was completely different, though.
In the middle of the batter, there was octopus… or at least it tasted like some cephalopod, making it not so bad.
“The two of you are just so alike.”
Fukuda said with a proud expression as she looked at us.
No, we even looked the same.
I couldn’t offer that as a comeback since the takoyaki was still warm in my mouth, so I had to listen to Fukuda’s laughter for a while.
*
Still, it was a lot of fun to be at a festival I had wanted to visit at least once in my teens.
I didn’t just eat takoyaki.
After we haah-haah’d our way through eight takoyakis, the kids seemed to find it amusing watching us eat. They handed us various things in their hands.
I even got to try candy apples that I’d only seen in cartoons, and cotton candy as well.
Koko seemed to prefer the sweet candy, and I liked the takoyaki the most.
Maybe it’s because I’m older.
A cotton candy is ultimately just sugar-flavored, after all. Eating the candy apple felt like chomping the apple along with hard candy made of sugar syrup.
I didn’t bother with catching goldfish. I already had a cat at home; who knows what might happen?
Moreover, goldfish grow surprisingly large and have a wide range of activity, so if you want to raise them properly, it costs more money and effort than one might think. Having tried to take care of them in my childhood and failing, I decided not to repeat the same mistake.
More than anything, Koko’s eyes while watching the goldfish were a bit scary.
I felt like if we went out and returned, the goldfish would somehow be in Koko’s stomach, so we just watched.
“Koto Ne-chan can’t be a dance singer.”
After dancing, Fukuda commented on my moves.
“……Can’t I just cover it with singing skills?”
“No, usually it’s supposed to be the other way around, right?”
Yamashita remarked incredulously.
Shouldn’t Fukuda have asked first if I had any thoughts about becoming a singer? I don’t, but you never know who might put me up to it.
“Koko was… full of spirit!”
“Yeah!”
Miura was enthusiastically praising Koko.
Even though Koko looks my age, she might be older than me; she seemed to have been recognized as a “child” by the three people around her.
Well, even if my appearance seems a year or two younger than the kids around me, it doesn’t look weird.
It makes sense for Koko to get attention for her cuteness.
By the way, saying she was full of spirit is probably not a real compliment. Although Koko’s movements were lively and cute, they looked more like childish gestures than anything, and very free-spirited.
…….
I’d probably danced a bit better.
Maybe.
After enjoying such a mix of things together, the sun set.
Although we hadn’t eaten dinner yet, none of us felt hungry. We had already stuffed our faces.
Koko was the same.
Well, probably, we should eat something separate anyway. Should I treat Koko to something delicious?
Looking at Miura, Fukuda, and Yamashita’s expressions, they seemed to be filled with similar thoughts.
*
So, back to the present.
After sunset, they released lanterns into the pond, and people gathered around the lanterns.
I’m not sure if it’s because these lanterns were meant to send off souls or what, but one thing was certain: the previously lively atmosphere calmed down significantly around the lanterns.
A solemn mood.
“……”
Even Miura and Fukuda, who had been chattering nonstop, and Yamashita, who occasionally chimed in with remarks, were quietly observing the lanterns.
The reason I thought of my family while watching those lanterns could also be the same.
If they were still young, the concept of “dead people” might seem strange to them. In fact, there were kids who looked up at their parents while also gazing at the lanterns.
But as they slowly grow older, they gradually come to understand the concept of death.
When the flowers they raised wilted. When their pet crossed the rainbow bridge.
When an elderly person, whom they often saw on dramas or movies, no longer appeared. When they heard of the passing of a beloved author from manga or novels.
Even if they aren’t exceptionally close, saying goodbye to something forever happens more often than one might think.
And they accept that fact, slowly fading away with time. Sometimes when they remember it, it can feel a bit empty and sad, but after a few years, it usually gets better.
……I couldn’t do that.
Was it because the farewell was too sudden?
Or maybe it was just because I was immature?
I really don’t know.
I simply stared at the lanterns, wondering if, in this time, if souls truly visited, could my family’s souls come as well?
Yeah, I know.
This isn’t the world I lived in.
Rather than time rewinding twenty years, I just happened to visit a world like this.
I don’t know if it’s the soul moving or whatnot.
But I can’t help but think that at least there should be some traces of my family in this world.
“……”
Still.
Still, if, really if…
If they ever came to check on me because they were worried about me being alone…
I hope they all got back well now. I wish they returned without losing their way and went to where they originally belonged.
If possible, I hope they could look down and smile at me having fun with friends without witnessing my downfall.
I slowly raised my gaze from the lanterns to the sky.
The ripples of the lanterns shining over the dark pond floated up into the sky.
The sight vaguely resembled souls returning to the heavens, tugging at my heartstrings.
“Koto Ne.”
I heard someone calling my name.
A subtle grip tightened around the hand I was holding.
When I turned my gaze, there stood someone who looked just like me.
I could never have imagined that we would become this close after our first meeting.
“Are you okay?”
“……”
Koko asked.
I paused for a moment before I nodded.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
I felt all eyes on me as I glanced around; Miura, Fukuda, and Yamashita were all staring at me intently.
I raised my hand to wipe my eyes, and just a bit of moisture came on my sleeve.
It seems like I had gotten overly sentimental.
I thought my emotions had dried up as I got older. I had seen far too many unpleasant things in general.
There were cries, shouts. Their voices of resentment aimed at me. At first, hearing each of those hurt, but at some point, I learned just to move my body.
Perhaps it was too painful to empathize with each of those feelings. And every time, I’d think of my family.
Over time, I started to retreat far away from sad or unpleasant things. So, naturally, there were hardly any opportunities to cry or even laugh.
“……”
No one said a word.
They were supportive enough not to pry about what I was thinking.
If someone had tried to comfort me, I would have burst into tears. At this age.
Someday, if I return there, will I be able to see my family again?
Is there someone up above blowing smoke for me?
As someone who has been through such an experience, it’s a bit of a sorry thing to say.
……I sincerely wish for that.
I looked up at the sky once more, inwardly hoping.
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