Time passed. The incident turned into a record and the record became history. Over eighty years flowed by and those involved in the events that day have died.
Then... In a residential area on the edge of the capital city of an eastern island nation...
A bakery stood on the corner of the street. The shelves inside the shop were lined with bread. There were anpan rolls, apple danishes, jam buns, chocolate cornets, potato bread rolls and an entire corner of baked sweets with horseshoe-shaped bread and baumkuchen.
For some reason, the melon bread had a label that read “Pineapple Bread.”
“Anyway, bread was treated like manju sweets long ago, so it came to be called sweetbread. That’s why breads eaten at meals were eventually called dinner bread.” A waitress in the shop was delightedly explaining to a customer.
“Oh, really? I didn’t know that.”
This shop had supposedly been here since before the war. For many years, the local people had loved all its bread, carefully prepared and baked in the shop’s oven. Today, a girl from the local high school had come to visit.
“I recommend using this bread for cutlet sandwiches. We use a moist and sticky dough that bakes up nice and fluffy, so it’s perfect for sandwiches with strong-tasting ingredients.”
This high school girl said she was inviting a boy on a date tomorrow. She wanted to take a handmade cutlet sandwich, which she knew he liked. She had asked the waitress for advice, and the waitress was glad to help.
“It has long been said that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! I wish you fortune in war!”
“In w-war? Ah ha ha...” The waitress’s cheerful tone confused the student.
She was famous in town. Everyone knew the popular waitress. As always, she wore a bright smile as she handed the student bread in a wrapper.
“Um...” Then the student noticed something and asked the waitress a question. “That photograph over there... Is that you?”
The wall of the shop was decorated with framed photographs. One of them showed a girl who looked exactly like the waitress. However, it was a very old black-and-white photo. It was from over half a century ago, or maybe more.
“Tee hee... No.” The waitress firmly denied it.
“That photo shows my great-grandmother when she was young. People often say we look exactly alike. But the color of our eyes is different. You can’t tell in black and white, though.”
“Oh... right. Then what about the photo beside it?”
“Well, that’s...”
The photo next to the first one showed an elderly Western couple.
“That’s my great-grandfather, who founded this shop, and my great-grandmother.”
Underneath the photo were the words, “Mr. and Mrs. Langart, 50th anniversary of their store opening.”
“They both passed away before I was born. I heard they were very close.”
The two in the photo had wrinkled faces and were happily smiling.
It’s a small bakery in a town somewhere. The shop’s name is Tockerbrot. If you come across it, I highly recommend stopping in. A charming waitress is sure to welcome you with a smile. They are eagerly awaiting your visit.
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