Jinya liked the liquor he used to drink here. He could still remember the place it had been when he looked at it now. The manager had spoken with an effeminate drawl and would welcome him in like a friend. “Nice to see you,” he would say, already reaching for a glass to pour out some whiskey.
He had thought that far before realizing the voice he had just heard was not a hallucination but real. An elderly man in his sixties holding a broom was standing right in front of him. He was broad-shouldered for his age, and his right leg was in a brace.
“You’re the one moving in today, right? I’ve been waiting for you. I’m the manager of Sakuraba-sou… My, my, that’s strange. You look different than I thought you would.” He was a peculiar man who spoke with a feminine drawl despite his age. How nostalgic. It made Jinya indescribably happy to know he was still the manager of this place. “Might I have mistaken you for somebody else?”
“I believe you have,” Jinya answered.
“Oh dear. No wonder. Sorry to bother you.”
“No, it’s fine,” Jinya said with a smile. It seemed the manager had only addressed him by mistake.
The manager sighed and said, “But of course, a young man like you wouldn’t pick a place like this to live.”
“I wouldn’t say that. This building is charming.”
“Oh, aren’t you sweet? It may look a little dirty, but this place is dear to me. I’ve spent half my life here. It used to be called Sakuraba Milk Hall in the old days, but now I use it to rent out rooms.”
Jinya knew that already. It was a place dear to him as well, although he couldn’t say so. An eighteen-year-old youth would have no way of knowing about Sakuraba Milk Hall, so he kept his mouth shut and simply stared at the manager’s face in profile.
The red-light districts were abolished, but the manager had proudly seen Sakuraba Milk Hall through to its last moments. From his demeanor, Jinya could tell that not a hint of regret over the past remained in him. The manager, who had once lamented how lost he was, had found a place his heart could call home.
“I’m the one who named this place Sakuraba-sou. A good name, don’t you think?” the manager said.
“Indeed.”
“I almost didn’t, though. Part of me wanted to name it Hotaru-sou instead.”
Jinya froze. In his pocket was the small bottle of star sand from Hotaru, the very reason he had come here. “…Hotaru, you say?”
“Yes. This place used to be a brothel back in the day, and there was a girl called Hotaru-chan who worked here then.”
Even though she was sick, she endeavored to remain a sex worker. She was allowed to keep working because her disease wasn’t infectious, but perhaps it would’ve been better if someone had stopped her. She pushed herself too far and didn’t live long enough to see the red-light district through to its end. She never got to hear Glow of the Firefly played in the Dove District’s last moments.
“She was a good girl,” the manager said. “An old-fashioned, nostalgic lady of the night. She was popular too. A lot of men cried when she died.”
“Is that so…”
“Interested? Her grave’s in East Mukojima cemetery, if you want to pay a visit.”
“Well… I doubt she’d want some stranger visiting her.”
“Nonsense. I can tell from the look on your face that you want to see her. Her old clients still pay her visits, so I doubt she’d mind one more man dropping by. She was never the type of girl to split hairs over things like that anyway.” The manager went back inside, then came out with a hand-drawn map showing the path to the cemetery. He half forced it onto Jinya, and after briefly explaining the directions, smiled wistfully. “It was her wish for her grave to be near here. She wanted to be a sex worker of the Dove District until the very end. That’s why I’m sure she would be happy to see you pay a visit. She’d probably brag that she was still just as popular of a sex worker, even in death,” he paused with a brief smile. “You should go.”
The manager pleaded for Jinya to go. Suddenly being asked to visit a stranger’s grave would put most people off, but this had been Jinya’s objective from the start, so he accepted the request. With a deep bow, he said, “Thank you very much.”
The manager answered with a smile. “Not at all. I hope you at least get some amusement out of it.”
He returned to sweeping, and the conversation ended there.
Jinya bowed once more, then checked the map he’d received and began walking. He didn’t dare look back at Sakuraba Milk Hall or the manager. He had said his farewells to them already, and they were both doing well. Just that knowledge alone was enough for him.
The manager continued to clean after the young man left, and eventually a high-school-aged boy came out of Sakuraba-sou.
“Good afternoon, sir!”
“Yes, good afternoon. Always full of energy, aren’t you, dear?”
“Well, my energy is the only thing I’ve got going for me! By the way, who was that guy from earlier? Someone looking to move in?”
“No, no. We haven’t had anyone apply to look at the place since you.”
“Dang. I thought I was finally gonna get someone my age around here.”
“Oh, no, I’m pretty sure that man’s a good deal older than you.”
“Huh? Really?”
This was just an ordinary conversation, heard by no one else—certainly not the young man from earlier. But that was all right. He was the manager of Sakuraba-sou now, and dreams were meant to be kept separate from reality. That was why he continued to sweep, giving everything he had to his current work.
“…Take care, my old customer.” Something not quite, but almost, a lingering regret left the manager’s mouth. It too was swept away by his broom, and their ordinary encounter came to a close.