“I’m sorry…”
“You apologize too much.”
“Yeah… but…”
Afterward, we left Suzumushi Temple and made our way back to Arashiyama. We disembarked at Hankyū-Arashiyama Station and strolled toward her dormitory. All the shops were closed, and the only sounds echoing through the quiet streets were our footsteps and hushed conversations. As we walked, Saki continued to apologize for bursting into tears at Suzumushi Temple.
“You’re worrying too much. Just let it go,” I reassured her.
She stopped walking when I said that, and I noticed numerous white lights shining at her feet. It was the illumination from the bridge.
Unbeknownst to us, we had reached Togetsukyō Bridge.
“I’m certain I won’t forget it.”
“Huh?”
“I… even if it was just a coincidence, it made me happy.”
She spoke as if recalling something. I wanted to inquire further, to uncover the truth behind her words, but I refrained, fearing it might make her cry again.
“I understand,” was all I said, raising my gaze toward the source of the light. Above Togetsukyō Bridge, a blue full moon radiated its brilliance.
The blue moon, observed from Togetsukyō Bridge, added to the enchantment of Arashiyama’s landscape. The celestial orb blended seamlessly with the scenery, as if its presence there was entirely natural.
For a while, we gazed at the moon together. The blue glow enveloped us, and time seemed to slow down.
“It’s like the moon is crossing the bridge,” she whispered beside me, captivated by the breathtaking panorama before us.
“What does that mean?” I inquired, shifting my attention toward her.
She turned to me, her eyes meeting mine, and replied, “My mother told me about it a long time ago. It’s the origin of the name Togetsukyō Bridge.”
As she spoke with a smile, sharing her knowledge of the moon, I felt a sense of relief. I exhaled softly and asked, “I’ve never heard of it. What does it signify?”
“Many years ago, an emperor took a boat ride along this river on a night with a full moon. He gazed at the sky and remarked, ‘It’s as if the moon is crossing the bridge,’” she explained.
“I see,” I responded.
“It was named Togetsukyō Bridge because it looked like the moon was crossing over it,” she added.
“I see.”
Togetsukyō Bridge, also known as the bridge the moon crosses over… What a beautiful name.
I imagined that the full moon above us emerged from the east, where the Katsura River flowed, gracefully traversed the bridge and disappeared behind the western mountains. It was undoubtedly a sight that had captivated the people of old, inspiring them to bestow upon this bridge a name befitting its splendor.
“Is the origin story of the bridge’s name well-known in Kyoto?” I asked.
“I wonder… Perhaps my mother happened to know because she had a deep love for the moon and stars,” she replied.
Togetsukyō Bridge stood serenely in place, with the full moon bright overhead. I fell in love with the understated yet breathtaking scenery and the town of Arashiyama that continued to safeguard it.
“It’s exceptionally beautiful tonight,” I commented.
Looking up at the night sky, Saki remarked, “Yes. Perhaps it’s because the moon is blue.”
In response to my nod, Saki’s eyes were no longer filled with tears.
“I’m glad we came today. To have the chance to see the moon from Togetsukyō Bridge on a night with a full blue moon.”
I’d forever cherish Saki’s words, spoken almost like a soliloquy.
Because I was thinking the same thing.
We quickly found ourselves in the forest after crossing Togetsukyō Bridge and engaging in lighthearted conversation as we walked along Arashiyama Street. We followed the mountain path, traversed the overgrown woods, and made our way toward the secluded blue spring.
Although the sky was clear and adorned with beautiful twinkling stars, the mountain path was damp, and the edges of the spring were still muddy. When Saki tried to retrieve the transparent umbrella hanging from a tree, I stopped her.
“I’ll go get it.”
“But…”
“It’s okay.”
My sneakers were already dirty, and I didn’t want her to soil her shoes. I made my way toward the spring, feeling a sense of nervousness about whether the paper was still there or not. I had left the umbrella and the letter in this very spot at the beginning of the night.
As I peeked beneath the umbrella, I discovered the white paper was still there, undisturbed and seemingly asleep. No one had come to retrieve it, meaning that Saki’s first love hadn’t shown up today either. That should have been a reason to rejoice, but I felt a sense of melancholy for some reason.
If I were to tell Saki the letter remained untouched, she would likely put on a desolate expression… or perhaps force a smile like she had yesterday. My legs felt heavy as I made my way back to her, clutching the white paper.
She glanced at the paper and softly murmured, “I see…” Her voice sounded as if she had already resigned herself to the outcome, but she believed… That’s the impression I got.
“Is it no longer possible?” she whispered, almost to the night sky.
“Will he never come again?” Her eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope.
“This will be our last summer.” After uttering those words, her eyes trembled ever so gently.
“You’re no longer waiting?” I asked softly.
My emotions were entangled between not wanting her to wait for someone else and not wanting her to give up on the person she had been waiting for. I was in turmoil.
“I can’t wait anymore,” she replied.
“After this summer… I, too, must leave this town.”
She had revealed this information at the coffee shop near Sanjō Ōhashi Bridge.
“It will become a cherished memory,” she had said in the nighttime tranquility of the Hinata Dormitory. “This dormitory is scheduled to be demolished. Everyone living here will be relocated, starting with the younger children who have already found new homes.”
I’d had a major misconception. I had assumed that only the younger children were being moved. I had mistakenly believed that the high school students residing in the old familial dormitory would continue to reside here. But upon reflection, I knew that couldn’t be the case.
And she, too, was one of the children moving out from the Hinata Dormitory.
“Where will you go?” my voice quivered.
“To a new facility up north,” she replied, gazing into the distance. A tinge of sorrow shadowed her gaze.
“Or I have to choose between that and being placed with a foster family who has been waiting for me indefinitely.”
I found myself unable to speak.
“I should have made my decision by now, but I can’t.”
She smiled with self-deprecation. “Everyone thinks I’ve already made up my mind.”
By “everyone,” she must have been referring to the children at the facility. To Saki, they were like siblings from whom she was separated.
“I wonder how they’re doing.”
“…”
“But even if something happens, Jizo-sama will come to help, right?”
Saki had used her one wish for the happiness of her distant brothers and sisters. She had wished for the well-being of her siblings, who resided far from this town.
Observing her in this moment, a memory surfaced within me.
“Good boy, good boy.”
She had whispered those words while gently stroking my hair in that room with the little children.
“Isn’t this what an older sister does?”
It was likely one of her playful remarks.
“It’s nothing.”
Her expression at that moment was resolute. It was her everyday existence, caring for the many younger brothers and sisters.
“I, too, must bring an end to my first love tomorrow.”
“…”
“I must properly conclude it and do my best in a new place.”
The blue moon lasts for four days.
Tomorrow, she would bring the curtain down on her first love, which she had discovered in this place. And when summer drew to a close, she would depart for an unfamiliar town.
My heart ached.
The scenery appeared surreal, and everything except Saki appeared hazy. My body weakened, and the white paper slipped from my grasp, fluttering away.
On that drifting white paper were the numbers she had written and the words I had penned above her phone number.
Saki Komiya is waiting for you. If you find this letter, please call this number. Please make sure to contact me.
That earnest plea was more than just an expression of my own feelings; it was a fervent wish for Saki’s love to be fulfilled.
I must have thought of her when I saw her at the spring today. I had a strong desire to grant her love and fulfill her wish. It was then that I became aware of my own deep-seated longing. I gazed up at the extraordinary blue moon and made a wish: May her wish come true. May her future be filled with blooming, joyful flowers… If her wish was granted, nothing else mattered to me. Therefore, I implored the blue moon to bring happiness to Saki. With all my strength, I prayed to the blue moon.