A Hill Where Lilies Bloom
A FEW DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE I’D STARTED LIVING with Tsuru.
My initial disorientation around being transported to another time was now slowly beginning to fade, and as my emotions calmed, I felt like I could more clearly and objectively survey the world around me. That keen eye extended to the restaurant’s primary clientele, which primarily consisted of workers who lived quite far away and commuted to work here at branch offices or iron manufacturing plants. They all came to eat at the mess hall on their lunch breaks. Virtually no locals ate at Tsuru’s establishment; they lacked the financial means and mental capacity. For the most part, only those who could afford the relative luxury of eating out walked through our doors.
And even then, despite being an eatery, it didn’t even serve white rice—apparently quite hard to come by these days. Instead, its main courses consisted of dishes like udon, boiled yams, salted potatoes, grilled corn, and soy flour bread. The side dishes weren’t much fancier, either—you could choose from boiled daikon with carrots, scrawny little white-meat fish, or stewed vegetables seasoned with some sort of mysterious “soy sauce substitute” (I was too scared to poke into that particular mystery any further). Aside from that, you could order some pickled vegetables, but that was pretty much it. Instead of rice, you’d get this water-thin rice gruel, with only a few grains of actual rice inside, garnished with daikon leaves and bits of yam vines to make the dish look more substantial. It was poor man’s food, no doubt about it; I couldn’t imagine anyone getting enough nutrition from a meal like this to have the energy to make it through a strenuous workday.
Ugh, what I wouldn’t give for a bowl of sweet, sweet white rice right now… Or some meat… Or some eggs… Or some ice cream… Such were my thoughts as I worked myself to the bone, day in and day out. Above all, I didn’t want to make Tsuru regret her decision to let me stay at her home. I would wake up early to go draw water from the common well in the town square, fill the heavy bucket to the brim, and then try my best not to spill any as I lugged it back with both hands. Then, I would go to the icemaker’s shop and buy some ice to put in the mess hall’s “icebox,” where we stored our raw fish. Though in truth, it was less like a fridge and actually more akin to one of those travel coolers—just a large wooden box with some ice dumped into it that I had to replace periodically as it slowly melted.
It made me realize just how good we had it with modern-day refrigerators—not to mention vacuum cleaners and washing machines. In this world, you had to do all your cleaning with a broom, dustpan, and rag and do all your laundry with a washboard and basin. It made even basic chores feel like Herculean tasks. How did people even have energy for anything else afterward?
Once I was finished helping Tsuru around the house, it was time to clock in for my shift at the mess hall. My job wasn’t too hard; I just had to take the customers’ orders and bring the food out from the kitchen once Tsuru was done cooking it—but I still felt like I was on pins and needles at all times. I was desperately trying not to cause any trouble in this world that was still so unfamiliar to me, so I was always exhausted by closing time. Tsuru, bless her heart, did tell me I was free to take a load off after then. But after everything she’d done for me, I didn’t want to feel like a freeloader even a little bit, so I’d help her out with all of the evening chores as well until my legs were so sore and tired, they nearly gave out from under me when it finally came time for bed.
“Here, Yuri-chan,” said Tsuru, calling out to me from behind as I cast my exhausted gaze out the window one afternoon. “This one’s ready to go out.”
“Oh, okay!” I said, instantly snapping out of my reverie. “Be right there!”
I hurried back into the kitchen and collected the plate of pickled daikon—but as I was carrying it out to the customer, I saw the flutter of someone passing through the curtains hanging in the shop’s entryway.
“Hi, welco—” I started to greet them but stopped short. “Oh, hey!”
“Hello there… Wait, aren’t you—”
Before me was a small group of young men—and among them was none other than Akira Sakuma, the one who’d come to my rescue when I collapsed by the roadside.
“Uhm… It’s very good to see you again,” I said awkwardly. “Thank you so much for your help the other day.”
Still carrying the food tray with both hands, I bowed to him as best I could—and much to my surprise, Akira placed his palm on top of my lowered head.
“I’m glad to see you’re doing better,” he said. “Are you helping out here at the mess hall now?”
“Yes,” I said. “Tsuru-san was kind enough to give me a place to stay.”
“Hey, that’s great. Sorry, I couldn’t stick around until you came to the other day—I had to take care of some business back at the base. By the time I returned, you were already gone. I was pretty worried about you.”
I thought back to that day—the time I’d fainted upon realizing that I may have been sent back in time. I’d hardly noticed that he was gone when I regained consciousness. In all honesty, I was desperate to hurry back to the air raid shelter and see if I could return to my own time.
“Well, I guess ‘business’ isn’t strictly accurate. Really, I just went back to base to grab this,” said Akira. Then, he reached into the pocket of his military uniform and pulled something out. “Here. Hold out your hand.”
I set the tray down beside me, then held out both hands in front of me, and Akira placed a few small items in my palms. They were all tiny little cubes wrapped in paper, no larger than erasers.
“It’s field rations,” he said with a grin. “Just for you.”
“Huh? …Sorry, what’s that?” I asked.
“Oh, right. I guess you wouldn’t know military lingo…” He lowered his voice and explained in a hushed tone: “Well, don’t tell anyone…but they’re caramels, actually.”
“What? Caramels?” I exclaimed.
He held up a finger in front of his lips, shushing me for raising my voice. Panicking, I covered my mouth. I felt as though I’d just uttered some treasonous word that could get me sent to the gallows if the wrong person were to hear it. That being said, I was surprised they even had caramels in a world where plain white rice was considered a valuable commodity. I stared down at the objects in my other hand.
“Only the military has access to sweets like these nowadays,” Akira explained with a smile. “But judging from the way you fainted the other day, I think you need the calories more than I do.”
“What…?” I said. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. To be honest with you, as soon as you passed out that day, I got up and ran as fast as I could back to the barracks to retrieve them, but you were gone by the time I got back. Gave me quite the fright, but I’m glad I finally have the chance to give them to you now.”