act.09 It’s a Fine Day

I stepped into a roadside convenience store and bought a bento box lunch, a bottle of green tea, and some gum to keep me awake.

The clerk was probably a college student working part-time—just like I was a few years ago.

Back in my car in the parking lot, I began eating the lunch I had just purchased. The project, which had been plagued with trouble, had finally settled down, and I was able to enjoy what felt like a proper day off for the first time in two months.

It seemed the rainy season had taken a break, and the sky was filled with summer hues.

“Maybe I’ll go see the ocean…”

I muttered as I turned on the car radio. When the radio host began talking about high school baseball, I remembered something I’d overheard by chance during my trip home for New Year’s.

The girl who used to be his girlfriend—the baseball team’s manager—had gotten married last year and would be a mother next year.

And that this year marks the 13th anniversary of his death.

Back then, we were chasing white baseballs on a dusty field, dreaming of playing at Koshien.

He was the type who gave everything he had—to both studying and baseball.

Every time I tried to sneak off to the arcade after school, he’d catch me and drag me back to the club room.

To think that someone so serious had been best friends with a slacker like me—it’s hard to understand how the world works.

He passed away suddenly in the fall of our second year in high school. He had complained of severe headaches.

When our parents heard the news, they all said, “So young…” but the cause of death was a stroke.

I finished off the bottle of tea and popped the gum into my mouth.

I started the engine of the car I finally finished paying off last month.

It’s been six years since I graduated college and started working. I’ve lived more than ten years longer than he did.

Somewhere along the way, “the future” became a vague thing I avoided even mentioning.

But still, here I am—working, receiving something called a salary, and continuing life as it is.

And I’ll probably keep doing that without change.

I looked up and saw a single white cloud stretching across the sky.

He was the one who told me that when a contrail lingers long in the sky, it means the weather will turn.

“So, the sunny spell has a few more days left, huh…”                                                                                                

Murmuring to myself with a wry smile, I put my car into gear and drove off.