It looked like an old-fashioned military uniform—the sort I’d only ever seen in history textbooks. As I stared vacantly up at him, wondering where he’d even acquired such a bizarre getup, he suddenly reached out and placed one hand on my forehead.
I could feel his slender fingers, cool against my brow.
“…You’re burning up,” he said, genuine concern audible in his voice. He reached down and grabbed something from around his waist. “Here. Drink some water.”
I looked at the strange container he was holding out to me; it looked metallic, but it was wrapped up in some sort of canvas pouch. I’d never seen anything like it before. But the moment I heard the word water, my mind went totally blank. I threw all caution to the wind, twisted the cap off, snatched the flask away from him, and started loudly glugging down its contents. Thank goodness—despite its strange appearance, it really was full of water. I could feel my parched throat being brought back to life immediately.
Unfortunately, it seemed I had been a bit too hasty. Some of the water went down the wrong pipe, and I nearly hacked up a lung trying to cough it back out.
“Easy, there… No one’s going to take it from you,” said the man, chuckling a bit as he gently rubbed my back. “It’s all yours, so take your time. No need to chug.”
After drinking virtually the entire bottle in one go, I looked up at the man.
“Thank you…” I said. “I think you might’ve just saved my life…”
“Feeling a bit better now?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in a gentle smile.
“Oh, yes… Much better.”
“Good. Well, first things first—we should get you out of the sunlight. Let’s head over to the shade under that tree, okay?”
He pointed across the way to a large tree with vivid green leaves. It was casting a fairly big shadow, and it really did look much cooler over there.
Shakily, I tried getting up to my feet.
“Ah…!”
But my legs were too weak, and gave out from under me. Losing my balance, I nearly fell backward again—until.
“Careful!” said the man, quickly reaching over to support me.
“S-sorry…” I said.
“Don’t be. If anything, I should have thought to offer you my shoulder from the start; of course you wouldn’t be steady on your feet after collapsing like that.”
The very next moment, I felt my entire body being lifted up—and immediately, my dizziness and nausea were replaced by panic and embarrassment. I could feel my cheeks going bright red as he scooped me up like a small child, cradling me in his arms before effortlessly setting off down the street as though I weighed nothing at all.
“Do you mind holding on to me?” he asked. “It’s safer that way.”
Without even a moment’s thought, I did as I was instructed and wrapped my arms around his neck. A few short moments later, he set me down gently at the base of the tree, and I thanked him with a little bow of my head. That small motion alone was enough to make my head start to spin, and I started seeing stars. It was like I was suffering from anemia.
“Once you’ve recovered a bit, I’ll take you somewhere nice and cool indoors,” the man said. “Do you live around here? What school do you go to?”
He gave my outfit a once-over as if trying to recognize my uniform. But a moment later, his eyes widened in surprise as though he’d noticed something strange. Judging from his gaze, he seemed to be staring at my skirt—or more specifically, at the bare skin of my thighs sticking out from underneath it.
“…What in the world are you wearing?” he asked. “Are those supposed to be undergarments, or what? Why… I can see your entire leg, almost!”
Really? I didn’t think the hem of my skirt was particularly short, though—it went almost all the way down to my knees when I was standing up. I didn’t understand why he seemed so surprised about it.
“Where are your monpe? Did someone steal them?”
Monpe? I only vaguely recognized the term. Aren’t those, like…those baggy work pants women used to wear in all those black-and-white photos?
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just kind of stared at him blankly, until eventually he averted his eyes as if he realized he’d made a false assumption.
“Er, pardon me…” he said. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, of course. Anyway, um… Right, I guess I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? I’m Akira Sakuma.”
“Akira Sakuma…” I repeated, letting the syllables linger on my tongue.
Akira swallowed hard and then said, “Would you mind telling me your name as well?”
“Oh, sure…” I said. “It’s Yuri. Yuri Kano.”
“Yuri, eh… That’s a very lovely name.”
He grinned at me. It was a gentle, carefree smile I couldn’t help returning—mind you, I wasn’t generally one for smiling.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked. “Better, I hope?”
“Yes, I think I’ll be all right,” I replied.
I didn’t understand it. Even I knew I was a huge sourpuss, and yet when I spoke with him, it was so easy to get caught up in his pleasant charm. It was a strange feeling, almost like I’d turned into someone else entirely.
“Good to hear,” he said, sounding genuinely relieved. “Well, then… Let’s get you somewhere a bit more comfortable, shall we?”
He reached down to offer me his hand—he moved so naturally that I couldn’t help but take it, letting him help me to my feet.
“Let’s take it slow, okay?” he said. “Just walk at whatever pace feels comfortable.”
“Okay,” I said.
And just like that, I followed the man who’d just saved my life down the street beneath the bright summer sun—my sailor-style uniform skirt fluttering in the breeze.
“Hello?” said Akira, brushing aside the curtains as we walked through the doorway. “Tsuru-san, are you around?”
He’d led me to what appeared to be a restaurant on the bottom floor of an old Japanese-style house. A small sign outside the door read, “Tsuru-ya Mess Hall.”
A woman of about fifty soon emerged from the kitchen. Her eyes, like Akira’s, had gone wide the moment she laid eyes on my outfit. She, meanwhile, was wearing a white cooking apron over a kimono. She looked just like a mother character in an old historical drama.
I scanned the mess hall’s interior. It was sparsely decorated—and looked even older than I had originally suspected. But as I stood there, absentmindedly looking around the place, I suddenly felt Akira’s hand on the small of my back, urging me forward.
“This is Yuri,” he said. “I found her collapsed by the roadside, not too far from here. Would you mind if she and I rested here for a spell?”
“Oh dear… Are you okay, love?” said the woman—Tsuru, apparently—as she rushed over to where I was standing. “I know… It’s awfully hot out there, isn’t it? I hope you didn’t come down with heatstroke or anything like that.”
She sat me down in the nearby tatami room and poured me some water in a ceramic teacup. I bowed my head as I gratefully accepted—although the moment I brought it to my lips and took a sip, I momentarily froze in place. The water was lukewarm, maybe even slightly higher than room temperature. Why hadn’t she put some ice cubes in it? I wondered. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, so I kept my mouth shut and drank.