The waiter took the RESERVED card from our table and set down a pair of menus. We looked them over as he brought our silverware and napkins.
“Wow. Everything looks good,” said Ayase. “Oh… Can I order this?”
She was pointing to the beef stew, one of the restaurant’s recommended dishes.
“Of course.”
We both ordered beef stew, and the food arrived without delay.
“Be careful,” said the waiter. “It’s hot.”
Steam was rising from the iron dishes containing our stew. A faintly tart aroma wafted up from the thick demi-glace sauce as two chunks of lean beef peeked out from a sea of deep-brown sauce.
I could see two orange carrot slices, cut into thin sticks, next to some bright-green pieces of broccoli. Sliced mushrooms floated in the center, adding a white color to the stew. The presentation was well-balanced, making it look even more delicious.
I slid the tip of my fork into the meat; a gentle twist was all it took to make it fall apart. I speared half a chunk and brought it to my mouth, but the moment it made contact with my tongue, I felt a burning sensation.
“Ow! It’s hot!”
“A-are you okay?”
I’d taken too big a bite.
Panicked, I gulped down half a glass of mineral water. Our waiter quickly appeared and refilled my drink.
“Thank you.”
He was a true professional. He kept a neutral expression throughout and left again without a sound, as though he hadn’t even noticed what I’d done.
I drank a little more water from my now-full glass.
“It was still really hot…”
“Yeah. I’ll be careful.”
Ayase cut her meat neatly with her knife and fork and took a small bite. A smile spread over her face.
“Delicious!” She said it tasted similar to the beef stew she remembered from when she was a kid. “I wonder what sets it apart from the stuff we make at home?”
“Even you can’t tell?”
“I can’t… With stews, the flavors of the ingredients tend to melt into the soup.”
“Oh. That’s true.”
Now that I’d started helping out in the kitchen, I had personal experience. It was true that soups tended to absorb the flavors of the ingredients.
“It seems like they’ve managed to really concentrate the flavor of the beef.”
We continued eating, talking about this and that.
Once we filled our stomachs, I took Ayase’s present out of my bag and handed it to her. It was nice soap, just as she’d requested.
She opened the package on the spot.
“Oh… A soap saver.”
“That’s extra.”
“Thanks. This is terrific.” She smiled. “These soaps are so beautiful and stylish. I almost feel bad using them up. I was wondering what you’d choose, but I never imagined you’d pick something like these.”
From her words, I wondered if she’d already noticed that I’d intentionally gone for soothing scents. If she did, that meant I had succeeded in following Maru’s advice—I’d let Ayase see that I was making an effort. It felt kind of embarrassing, to be honest.
“Hey, uh… You’ve made me really happy. So, um, I want to give you something back.” Ayase lifted the small bag in her lap, undid the clasp, and pulled out what looked like an envelope. “Want to go see a movie after this?”
She pulled two pieces of paper out of the envelope and turned one over to show me the front.
They were movie tickets. The screening started at ten minutes to nine at a theater by the train station. I recognized the title. But of course I did—it was a new anime film by one of my favorite directors. The first one in three years.
That was when it hit me: This couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Don’t tell me…”
“This was what Yomiuri gave me for my birthday. She said, ‘You can use it any way you like. There’s two, so you can invite Asamura along!’”
I knew it. Yomiuri was such a schemer.
After dinner, we headed for the cinema.
We couldn’t waste the tickets, since they were only good for today. But that was only an excuse. I was genuinely interested in the film. I’d waited three years, after all.
We arrived just in time for the showing. There was a city ordinance prohibiting minors from using commercial facilities after eleven PM, and that included movie theaters. If the film went past eleven, we wouldn’t have been allowed inside. Fortunately, this one ended at ten fifty PM.
The movie itself was probably around an hour and forty minutes long. If Yomiuri had calculated when we’d get off work and bought the tickets with all that in mind, I was in awe of her abilities.
“We’ll have to leave as soon as it’s over,” Ayase said, and I nodded.
I’d already called home and let our parents know. They’d allowed us to see the film, provided we returned right after. They gave us permission to take a taxi if we got delayed, but I doubted that would happen.
“What kind of movie is this?” Ayase asked as she looked at the display in front of the theater.
The digital poster showed a boy and a girl around high school age, but it didn’t tell us much about the story.
“Is it horror? Fantasy? Or science fiction?”
“Well… Actually, I don’t really know,” I admitted.
Ayase looked surprised. “You don’t?”
“I wanted to go in with a blank slate, so I tried not to find out too much.”
“Oh… You must have really been looking forward to it, then.”
“I guess so.”
When she put it like that, I started to feel a little self-conscious.
We presented our tickets, went inside, and followed the signs to screen three.
We had good seats—slightly to the rear of the center, so we wouldn’t have to crane our necks.
Seeing a film in the theater was definitely more exciting than watching it at home on TV, though maybe that would be different if we had a hundred-inch screen. Even if we did, there was something special about the atmosphere in a theater. It made you feel like you were sharing an experience with the other moviegoers.
We sat down and caught our breath as the trailers ran. Then the lights dimmed, and the film began.
The story takes place at a typical high school. It begins with a shot looking in through a classroom window, then the camera zooms in on a figure sitting in the corner—a female student with black hair, the girl we’d seen on the poster. Her hair color is different, but I thought she looked like Ayase.
The first part of the film is about the shy girl’s daily life.
Then one day, a theft occurs in the classroom.
People suspect that the girl is responsible. Even another girl who she thought was her friend won’t believe her when she protests her innocence. Filled with despair, she wanders through the streets until she’s hit by a truck and killed.
I thought she’d be reincarnated in another world or something, but instead, she travels back in time, her memory still intact.
She then repeats her days at school, making different friends and avoiding what happened last time. But once again, she’s betrayed by someone she thought was her friend, and she falls into despair. Gradually, the girl closes off her heart.
But one day, a new student joins her class.
It’s the other character we saw on the poster—a boy with light-colored hair.
After everything she’s been through, the girl stops believing in others, and at first, she’s wary of the new boy. But over time, his warmth touches her, and her troubled heart is healed.
Then her fated day arrives once again. It’s the day before school gets out for the summer. This time around, the girl is suspected of murder. Who is the real murderer, and why does the girl keep traveling back in time?
The boy turns out to be a time traveler from the future.
He tells her, “What you’re experiencing is a localized oscillation in time with you at its center. If we hadn’t done something about it, a huge crack could have formed, and the universe might have fallen apart.”
The boy was sent from a world ten thousand years in the future to fix that crack in time and space.
“Is that why you approached me?” the girl asks.
But the boy shakes his head. Ten thousand years in the future, no one knows what caused the crack. He had no way to know it was her.
“Then why?”
“Because you couldn’t trust anyone, you were the only person who treated me the same as everyone else. Everyone else saw how unfamiliar I was with the customs of this time and didn’t want to be around me. But because you had no preconceptions, we were able to meet each other halfway and come to understand the other. And besides…your miso soup is the most delicious I’ve ever tasted. We don’t have it anymore in the future, you know.”
Apparently, miso soup does not survive the ravages of time.
I chuckled, as does the girl on the screen.
The next moment, the boy is embracing her. He whispers, “I’m going to get you out of here,” and the girl hugs him back and sobs.
Just then, Ayase moved into my field of vision. She was leaning forward, eyes glued to the screen. I saw a single tear fall down her cheek.
I hurriedly turned back to the movie.
I got the feeling I’d seen something I shouldn’t have. But at the same time, a warm emotion welled up inside me.
I wanted to cherish her. That was how I felt.
Back on the screen, the film was reaching its climax, and the theme music was blaring.
The movie had lasted an hour and forty-three minutes, and now it was over.
I didn’t think I’d ever forget this day—Ayase’s seventeenth birthday.