Near the end of our freshman year, when I went to the cafeteria, I would sometimes catch Akiyoshi and Wakisaka eating together. I’d try my best not to be spotted, but occasionally one or the other would see me. I would wave if it was Akiyoshi or bow if it was Wakisaka, then sit down in some spot away from them and eat alone.
Looking back, I had achieved my initial goal from the time I first enrolled at the university—setting out for a quiet university life.
Moai had continued to grow in size and was now a full-fledged organization. Though it wasn’t holding the sort of meet-ups they had now, we were borrowing large lecture halls for gatherings, and thanks to the alumni connections, we were able to invite professional guests to give special lectures. I only participated in our weekly meetings, which I had only done because Akiyoshi asked me to.
Akiyoshi was busy—with Moai, and her studies, and love. I, on the other hand, was just taking my classes, and working part-time, and meeting Tousuke, who I did not yet know would become a friend, all in a perfectly average fashion. There was no reason that the circles we both moved in would overlap; it had already been weeks since the two of us had spent time with only one another. Even during the latter part of the class where I had first seen Akiyoshi, we now had other acquaintances sitting around us. By that point, we no longer sat next to one another.
As her friend, it made me a bit sad, but I was living my university life my way, so it would have been downright boorish for me to criticize the way she was living hers.
“You should tell people what you’re thinking,” people other than Akiyoshi had many times told me, including teachers who were helping out with Moai, and unrelated alumni. None of them knew the philosophies by which I lived my life. However, arguing with them that they had no idea what they were talking about would be in direct violation of one of those philosophies—never rebutting the opinions of others—and so I would just give a weak smile and let it go.
Wakisaka hardly ever spoke to me. He just passively observed the Moai that we had grown into its current form, the human embodiment of resignation. Sometimes we shared small talk, but unlike Akiyoshi, Wakisaka never got particularly close with boring old me.
The days passed by without any major changes. Back then, I’m sure that Akiyoshi could never have imagined such a boring, unchanging university life. I could tell even from the outside that her life was hectic and full of excitement. I never thought of this as good or bad.
But eventually, those changes in her life had an effect on her as well.
That day, as usual, I had attended our once-a-week meeting. I had no particular opinions to share, only attending so that I could listen to the lively discussions about upcoming activities, so I always chose a seat as far back in the corner as possible. That day, I was sitting in the second seat from the back, by the window, just as I had been the day when I had first met Akiyoshi.
I have no idea why Akiyoshi thought that my presence was necessary at these meetings, but I had never asked her either. I cared just as much about the discussion that was going on. However, there was one phrase from within the chatter that I did hear clearly, that I can still hear even now.
I believe that at some point during the talking, someone had made a comment to Akiyoshi, something along the lines of, “Oh, this is what I want to do, this is the course I’d like to take.” Akiyoshi had then made a “Hmm” sound, as though she was thinking, looked over this someone’s resume, and said to them, admonishing:
“I understand, but I don’t think that’s realistic.”
I was sure my ears were playing tricks on me. Whatever the intention behind those words, I could not believe that they were coming out of Akiyoshi’s mouth.
Realistic.
Realistic.
Realistic.
I turned the words over in my head, but no meaning came tumbling out. Here, at Moai, a group we had formed in order to seize our ideals, someone had presented their ideals and how to pursue them, and Akiyoshi had dragged out realistic as the hammer with which to smack it down.
I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it.
Hadn’t we come this far together, believing in nothing more than our ideals?
I kept watching her, hoping she might make some amendment to her statement. However, for the rest of the meeting she did not look my way.
That was the last time I attended our weekly meetings.