Had he brought me here because he thought it might cheer me up? Because he was worried about me? Had he chosen this place because my name meant “lily” in Japanese? I turned to look at him; he was inches away, smiling at me.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile,” he said. “I’m glad you like it. Guess it really was worth dragging you out here after all.”
His face was so close to mine, I reflexively recoiled a bit. Noticing this, Akira let out a sheepish chuckle.
“Oh, sorry,” he said. “Guess that was a bit awkward, wasn’t it? I have a little sister who’s about your age, so that might have something to do with it. She and I were awfully close.”
“…Were?” I said.
“Yeah. I haven’t seen her in years now. She’s still living with our parents back in my hometown.”
At this point, Akira suggested that we sit down and chat for a while. I nodded in agreement, and the two of us found a small grass clearing amid the lilies and sat down side by side. Glancing over, I could see Akira’s face in profile, illuminated by the bright summer sun, his expression every bit as soft and radiant as a celestial body as he gazed up to the sky.
He really was quite handsome, now that I could take a better look at him. His eyebrows were neat and sharp, and he had perfect double eyelids. The bridge of his nose was straight and shapely, and his thin lips curled into a soft, boyish smile. His well-tanned skin was clear and smooth, with nary a blemish to be seen. His broad shoulders, muscular arms, and torso made him look quite masculine and robust, despite his overall slimness. The junior high school boys in my class certainly had a lot of work to do.
It was only at this point that I had the sudden and belated realization that Akira was already a grown man, and therefore quite a few years older than me. The thought made me feel quite restless, actually; when I reflected on him having carried me in his arms, after I collapsed on that hot summer’s day, I could hardly bear to make eye contact with him. Especially after I had a second realization: I hadn’t bathed in days.
God, what I wouldn’t give for a proper bath. I may have been a fair bit younger than him, but I still had my dignity as a woman to consider.
“Is something wrong, Yuri?” Akira asked, suddenly turning his gaze to me once again.
“Er, no!” I said, my heart skipping a beat. “I was just, um…”
Flustered and on the spot, even I couldn’t believe the next words out of my mouth:
“I was just thinking about how handsome you are.”
Akira’s eyes went wide—understandably.
It was only upon seeing his baffled expression that I regained my better judgment, remembered what I had said, as my face flushed with shame. What was I thinking, letting a thought like that slip? As I sat there wracked with regret, I heard Akira stifle a snicker. I looked up to see that he was covering his mouth, trying as hard as he could not to laugh.
“You think so, huh?” he said. “Personally, I don’t see it, but thank you for saying so. I must admit, though—I’m not used to women being so bold and forward. You’re an interesting one, Yuri, that’s for sure.”
“…Sorry,” I said.
“What, for complimenting me? No need to apologize, silly.”
After we both calmed down a bit, Akira began to tell me a bit more about himself. As he recounted his life story in his usual soft-spoken tone, I hugged my knees to my chest among the lilies and listened close.
Akira’s hometown was somewhere far to the north. In the winter, a heavy blanket of snow would cover the entire landscape for months at a time. His mother and father were still alive, and he had two siblings—a little brother and sister, both several years younger than him. He left his hometown to pursue a higher education and had been living alone in Tokyo when he got that fateful letter informing him that he was being drafted. From there, he’d trained as a pilot at a military base in Kanto, before ultimately being transferred to the base he was stationed at now.
“Wait,” I said. “So you’re a college student?”
“Correct,” Akira said, nodding.
“How old are you?”
“Just turned twenty this year.”
This was a shock. Akira seemed so much calmer and more mature than twenty-year-old boys tended to be in my time. When I imagined one, I pictured the sort of laid-back party boy who went out drinking with his friends every weekend or was busy planning a big shindig for their coming-of-age ceremony. Admittedly, though, I didn’t know anyone like this in person—my only familiarity with college students was from what I’d seen on TV.
“How old is your little sister?” I asked.
“She just turned fourteen,” he replied.
“Wow, so she’s the same age as me… Huh. So I guess that means you’re a full six years older than me, Sakuma-san…”
“…Hey, could you do me a favor?”
He raised a hand as if to cut me off; I clammed up, wondering if perhaps I’d said something inappropriate.
“Could you, um…” he began. “Could you not call me ‘Sakuma-san’?”
“Huh?” I said.
“I dunno, it just feels a bit…weirdly formal, coming from you. Maybe it’s because you’re so close in age to my little sister? I’m not sure…”
He let out an awkward, sheepish chuckle.
“…What should I call you, then?” I asked.
“Just my first name is fine,” he said.
“So then…Akira-san?”
“Just Akira.”
“No honorific?”
“No honorific. Feels more natural.”
“Are you sure? Well, okay, then…Akira.”
As I repeated his name, he grinned broadly.
“My sister’s a strong-willed woman, just like you,” he explained. “She always called me by my first name too—never a nickname or anything like that. It feels almost nostalgic, hearing you call me Akira, as odd as that might sound…”
I was happy to be given the honor of calling him by his first name; it made me feel like the distance between us had been closed a bit—like we were no longer mere acquaintances. And yet, at the same time, I felt a bit mixed at how he seemed to be comparing me to his little sister so much; I didn’t want to just be a surrogate for her in his eyes.
On the way back from the lily hill, we encountered a group of girls around the same age as me walking down the street. They all had their hair either bobbed or in pigtails, and were all wearing monpe, which, it seemed, were indeed the most fashionable women’s legwear of the era. Aside from their fashion choices, I could have easily mistaken them for a group of junior high school girls from my own day and age. Guess some things never change, I thought to myself as I listened to their animated conversation as they passed by.
“That was so funny, wasn’t it?!” said one of them. “When Tanaka-sensei—”
“I know!” Another interrupted. “When he was writing on the blackboard, and—”
Hearing the words sensei and blackboard, I couldn’t help feeling wistful.
“Man, I miss going to school…” I mumbled.