Chapter 2

You don’t see it that often nowadays, but our college dorm had shared rooms. It was probably a vestige of the establishment’s long history. Understandably, I hadn’t been thrilled about having to share a room. However, there was one advantage I couldn’t ignore: It was cheap. My rent was ten thousand yen per month—shockingly cheap for Tokyo. There was no way I could have resisted such a bargain. The roommate each person ended up with was a total lottery, and once you were put together in your freshman year, you’d stay together until one of you moved out. It seemed like it was common for roommates to live together for all four years. While Narumi could be pushy, I knew he was a good guy deep down. He’d wake me up when I looked like I was going to oversleep, and I’d started to appreciate having him around. “Don’cha have class first period, Sorano? You stayed up late again, yeah?” he said, offering me some instant miso soup as soon as I woke up. Still groggy, I took it off him. I took a sip and sighed with relief. “Hang on, are you my mom or something?” Recently, I’d felt like Narumi’s Kansai sense of humor had started rubbing off on me. First period on a Monday was always a challenge—but sleeping through the entire weekend made Mondays especially hard to face. The freshman party on Friday had drained me mentally, so I’d spent the entirety of Saturday and Sunday in bed. Having to face an 8:50 AM lecture with a mind that unfocused was basically torture. As that thought went through my mind, I yawned and breathed in the cool late-April air. I left the dorm and walked across the road at a short crosswalk. My university, situated directly in front of our building, was just a one-minute walk away. There’s a dense thicket of trees right where you enter the school through the back gate. It’s cool beneath them, and the air is filled with the smell of soil and the chirping of birds. This invigorating atmosphere cheered me up, and I took bigger strides as I made my way to the large lecture hall. The spacious hall, which could hold a hundred people, was abuzz with chatter. There were short staircases on either side of the entrance, and I walked up one and turned to face the front of the hall, where the blackboard was situated. All of the classroom’s seating sloped down toward it. I didn’t say hello to anyone, nor did anyone say hello to me. I made my way to my usual seat, trying to stay out of people’s eyesight. We didn’t have assigned seating, but after attending class for a month, everyone pretty much had a go-to spot. Today, though, someone had taken mine. I reluctantly looked for another place to sit, and I eventually found a free seat at the very back. Once I’d made my way there, I noticed Fuyutsuki sitting at the opposite end of a long desk. I was surprised, but of course, I didn’t say hello. I took out my phone, only to discover I’d gotten a message on LINE. It was from Hayase. I looked at it from the app’s main page so it wouldn’t get marked as read. Yuuko: Take care of Koharu for me! She was unbelievable. At this point, I could only applaud her brazenness. Hayase and Fuyutsuki had only met at the entrance ceremony, which meant they hadn’t even known each other for a month. It shocked me that Hayase was willing to meddle in other people’s lives this much for the sake of someone she’d only known for a few weeks. Did she just have a really strong sense of justice or something? When I looked over at Fuyutsuki, I noticed she was gently running her fingers over a book. The book was completely white—the front cover, the pages, everything. It didn’t look like there was any black lettering printed on it at all. She kept a yellow plastic bookmark nestled in between the pages as she turned them, then took out the bookmark and started to stroke the blank pages again with her fingertips. When I looked closer, I saw that the pages had raised bumps on them; it must have been braille. The morning sunlight streaming into the classroom gave Fuyutsuki a luminous glow. As I watched her, the hustle and bustle of the lecture hall began to die down. What was she reading? What kind of book was it? I was curious, but I couldn’t work up the courage to ask. This left me with no option but to sneak a glance at the title—but even that was in braille. I had no way of reading what it said. Whatever. I decided to pretend I hadn’t seen her. It turned out, though, that I couldn’t stick with that plan for long. Fuyutsuki attempted to insert the bookmark between the pages behind the one she was reading, but it bounced off the edge of the book and slid in my direction. She didn’t seem to notice. I picked it up and glanced at her as if to say Is this yours? but of course, there was no way for her to know that. I tried sliding the bookmark back to her, but even then, she still didn’t notice it was there. I pondered over what to do next; however, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I had no other options, so I psyched myself up. “Good morning,” I said to her. It had taken me a lot of courage to get these words out, but she didn’t reply. Fuyutsuki continued silently reading her book. “Good morning,” I repeated. “Hmm?” she said in a startled, high-pitched voice. I was a little flustered on my end as well, but I gradually began to grasp the problem. Oh yeah. She can’t tell which way I’m facing or whether I’m looking at her. “Good morning, Fuyutsuki,” I said. This time, I addressed her clearly by name. She turned around, looking vaguely in my direction. “Sorano?” she said. It looked more like she was turning her ear toward me, rather than her face. “What’s with the questioning tone?” I asked. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell for sure unless you say your name.” Oh, right. Since she can’t see, it must be hard to tell who a voice belongs to. “Just now, I figured it out by your tone,” she explained. “My tone?” “Yeah. Your voice is a little bit higher pitched.” “It is?” “Mm-hmm. Most people are closer to a ‘do,’ but you’re more of a ‘mi.’” “So you must have perfect pitch.” “I’ve been playing piano since I was a kid.” She mimicked playing a piano, and her cheerful reaction gave me a sense of relief. When I looked closely at her fingers, I could see they were long and thin. She really was beautiful. I don’t know why that came as such a surprise to me, but for some reason, it did. I asked whether “that bookmark” belonged to her, and a bewildered look appeared on her face. Right. She can’t see it. I picked up the bookmark and had Fuyutsuki gently touch it with her fingertips. She seemed to figure out what had happened. “Did you pick it up for me? You’re so nice, Sorano,” she said, smiling. Her unexpected smile made my heart race. I didn’t want to dwell on that feeling, though, so I turned away. Before long, the professor arrived, and the lecture began. My degree was part of the Humanities Department, but for some reason, we had a course on computer architecture and processing. As someone who’d fled to humanities because I couldn’t even fully grasp the decimal system, the binary system was far beyond my comprehension. Bits turning into bytes and storing addresses in memory space—it all sounded like nonsense to me. College lectures generally tend to leave students to their own devices. The idea is that if you want to understand something, you need to research it yourself. I could see why they’d want to encourage us to be independent, but this was beyond sadistic. The ninety-minute class dragged on and on. I took a look at my phone; it had only been forty minutes. If this was a high school class, we’d have just ten minutes to go. Unable to concentrate any longer, I gazed out the window. The sight of the clear blue sky stretching on and on lifted my spirits somewhat. When I looked back down, I spotted Fuyutsuki staring straight ahead with a serious expression. She had a pair of earphones connected to a small device with a keyboard. One earphone was in her ear, while she seemed to be using the other to try to pick up the lecture. I looked up the device on my phone. Apparently, it was a braille note-taker. As the name suggested, it was a device that took notes in braille, just like you would by writing it down. Once the long ninety minutes finally ended, the professor left the room, and raucous chatter filled the space. My next lecture wasn’t until third period, so with second period and the lunch break, I had almost three hours free. Every week, I used this time to go back to the dorm and sleep. Planning to do the same today, I got to my feet. I glanced at Fuyutsuki, who was tidying away the things on her table. She placed the items inside her bag one by one, meticulously checking that each one was actually in there. Every single movement she made took time. Stuffing things into her bag at random probably wasn’t an option for her. It looked like a struggle. I couldn’t help but think that. I hated myself for thinking it. And I hated myself for noticing these things and being upset by them. …I should get home. But just as I turned my back to her, I heard a clattering sound. I looked behind me. Fuyutsuki had knocked over her white cane, which had been propped up against a chair. It slid down the stairs, coming to a stop at the bottom of the first flight. Fuyutsuki crouched down, feeling around on the floor, slowly searching for her white cane. But she wasn’t going to find it. That much was obvious. If I was told to close my eyes and look for something, I wouldn’t be able to find it, either. I looked around, but Fuyutsuki and I were the only ones left inside the classroom. This whole situation sucked. I hated how I faltered for a moment in times like these. I waited for someone else to step up, which made me feel like such a lowlife. On one hand, it was a relief that no one else was around. This kind of situation made me worry about other people’s opinions, which disgusted me even more. If Hayase or Narumi were around, they would have gone to pick up her cane without a second thought. It was so easy to imagine them doing it. “Fuyutsuki, wait. I’ll pick it up for you.” “Thank you so much.” “Got it.” “Seriously, thank you.” All I’d done was pick up something she’d dropped. Did she really need to act so grateful? “It’s no big deal,” I assured her. “I should have attached a bell to it.” “Nah. Once it had fallen over, it wouldn’t make a sound anyway.” “Oh… You’re right. Ah-ha-ha.” When she laughed like that, Fuyutsuki looked like any normal girl. Yet when I saw her walking with her white cane again, I couldn’t help but think about her eyesight. “Do you have a class during second period?” she asked me. “No, nothing.” “Do you have any plans?” The elevator doors opened, and I waited for Fuyutsuki to step inside. Once we were both in, I pressed the button. My plan was to go home and sleep, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit that. It felt like I’d missed my window of opportunity to leave. At this point, you couldn’t just say, “I’m going to head home.” “Wanna kill some time together?” Fuyutsuki asked. “Yuuko just got in touch to tell me she’s busy.” “She called you?” “No. She messaged me on LINE.” “Oh, you can use LINE?” I was surprised, but Fuyutsuki just giggled. She told me she’d give me her ID later on, and we headed to the student center together. The center had a terraced area with a row of vending machines and an iron fence, presumably there to offer some privacy or to provide shade. The fence diffused the sunlight, creating a softly lit, pleasant-looking spot. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked, standing in front of a vending machine. It was the type where you put in a paper cup, and the machine filled it up with whatever you chose. “I can buy it myself,” Fuyutsuki replied. She figured out which coins to put into the machine using touch alone, then pressed the buttons for milk tea with extra sugar as though she’d done it a million times before. “How’d you do that?” “Hee-hee. You’re curious?” “I mean, you can’t see.” “This is my vending machine.” “…You’re not, like, in the vending machine business or something, are you?” Had her family become vending machine tycoons and bought her that luxury apartment with the earnings? Fuyutsuki froze for a moment, then burst out laughing. “No, of course not.” “But you said this vending machine was yours,” I continued politely. “So you do tell jokes, after all.” “Wait, did you think I was some kind of grouch who never told jokes?” Something must have set her off, because Fuyutsuki couldn’t stop laughing. “A grouch. Ah-ha-ha. Ha-ha-ha.” Fuyutsuki gently wiped away her tears with a finger. There was a certain sophistication to every single movement she made. “When I say ‘my vending machine,’ I mean it’s one I regularly use. For people like me, using vending machines we’re not familiar with is like playing a game of Russian roulette. You want milk tea, but you end up with sweet red bean soup instead!” “Sounds kind of fun,” I replied, but then immediately apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” “No need to apologize,” said Fuyutsuki. “It can be fun sometimes, but if I use a different machine every time, I’ll never be able to get the drink I want. So I pick a vending machine to use regularly. That’s why I call this—” “Your vending machine,” I interjected. “Exactly.” Fuyutsuki grinned. “Yuuko told me what all the buttons were for the other day, so that’s how I mastered it.” “You memorized all the buttons?” “Sorry, no. Just the ones for sugar and milk tea.” “Why exaggerate, then?” “It was just a figure of speech.” She turned in my direction when I spoke to her, and our conversations were incredibly natural—so much so that I almost forgot she couldn’t see. Even when we were face-to-face, though, our eyes never met, which served as a reminder that Fuyutsuki really was blind. “Come to think of it, how do you use LINE?” I asked. Fuyutsuki gently placed her cup of milk tea on the table and took out her phone to explain it to me. Apparently, most smartphones came with a screen reader feature. When that function was on, it’d read out any text you tapped on. You had to double-tap when you wanted to select something. Fuyutsuki enthusiastically explained how it worked. “It’s hard to operate a phone like this. Different things happen depending on whether you use two fingers or three.” “Oh, wow. That sounds tough.” “There are other commands for sliding four fingers across the screen and tapping it three times as well, so it takes a lot of practice to get used to. It was a challenge, but people really can do anything when they have no other choice.” Fuyutsuki talked about her struggles excitedly, as if she didn’t consider them to be struggles at all. “How do you write messages on LINE and stuff?” “I use speech-to-text. It makes mistakes sometimes, though, so bear with me,” she said with a cheerful smile. It almost felt like her happiness knew no bounds. “Narumi asked me for my LINE the other day, too,” she added. True enough, I could see his profile pic on her phone screen. Then, still smiling, Fuyutsuki said something that sent a chill through me. “Believe it or not, we visually disabled people do the same things as everyone else.” I didn’t know how to react to her openly calling herself “disabled.” There were plenty of other ways she could have expressed herself—“visually impaired,” “handicapped”—but she’d chosen to refer to herself as “disabled.” She’d said it so openly, too. As if it was no big deal. I couldn’t imagine myself admitting I was from a single-parent family so cheerfully. After all, it was something that still cast a shadow over my heart. How much had Fuyutsuki gone through to reach this point? When I tried to imagine it, I started thinking that it might be rude to be asking her questions like “How do you do that?” and “Can you do this?” I wasn’t sure anymore. What was it okay for me to ask about? What sort of things would hurt her feelings? How should I treat her? Just like anyone else? What did that even mean in the first place? I could feel a transparent wall between us. An invisible barrier of my own making. I knew the answers to all my doubts. I needed to properly listen to her, properly talk to her. I understood that. Or at least, I thought I had. “Give me yours, too, Sorano,” Fuyutsuki suddenly said. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what she was asking me for. I could see a QR code up on her phone screen; she was asking me to exchange contact information with her. My brain slowly tried to catch up, but the only sound that came out of my mouth was “Oh, uh, um.” “Can you scan it, Sorano?” she continued unhurriedly. I scanned the code. Fuyutsuki’s profile pic appeared on my phone screen, along with the name Koharu. Her profile pic was a picture of a flower I’d never seen before. It happened after first period the following Monday. Fuyutsuki had dropped her white cane again. I hoped someone else would notice, but they didn’t, and it felt kind of wrong to just leave it there. “Are you okay?” I asked, approaching her. “Thank you for helping me out again,” she said. Her smile looked pretty bashful, considering she was just thanking me. After I approached her, we’d ended up doing the same thing we had the week before: killing time on the student center’s terrace. Fuyutsuki drank her sugary milk tea one tiny sip at a time. We began to make small talk, but we both seemed to realize there was no need to try to force the conversation, so it petered out naturally. I didn’t mind the quiet. Judging by Fuyutsuki’s expression, she didn’t seem to find it uncomfortable, either, so we both just relaxed and spaced out for a while. There was a gentle breeze, and I could hear the nearby trees rustling. The pleasant sunlight made me yawn—but I stifled it, not wanting to make a noise. That was when a voice called out “Hey!” Hayase was waving and walking toward us. “Oh, it’s Yuuko,” Fuyutsuki remarked, turning to face the direction of the sound. “You recognized her by her voice alone?” I was impressed. I doubt I would have been able to figure out who it was with my eyes closed. “Yuuko has a cute voice, so it’s easy to recognize.” “I see.” I’d heard that when someone lost their sight, their other senses became more acute. I wondered whether that was true. I wanted to ask Fuyutsuki, but I didn’t want to interrogate her. It also felt like a bit of a rude question. As soon as Hayase came over, she slumped her shoulders dejectedly. “My second-period class was canceled because the professor couldn’t make it. What were you two talking about?” I was about to say “Nothing much,” but Fuyutsuki answered before I had the chance. “We were talking about how your voice is easy to recognize from a distance.” “Huh? Really?” Hayase sat down between us. She turned her back to me and faced Fuyutsuki. “So does losing your sight really make your hearing better?” That was the exact question I’d been so reluctant to ask, but Hayase made it sound like it was no big deal. I couldn’t help but think how bold she was. “Oh no. I don’t think so,” Fuyutsuki replied. “I’ve heard some people can use echoes to figure out where things are, by distinguishing the different sounds…” “I definitely can’t do that.” Fuyutsuki smiled and waved a hand in front of her face. “Well, I have played the piano for a long time, so I guess I can tell some sounds apart.” “Oh, that’s right; you play piano, Koharu. In that case, there’s something I want you to do for me…” Hayase and Fuyutsuki continued to chat amiably while I looked up at the sky. As I watched the clouds slowly streaming past, I started fantasizing about how good it would feel to lie down on one of them. In other words, the gentle sunlight was making me overwhelmingly sleepy. I glanced at Hayase and Fuyutsuki out of the corner of my eye. They were enjoying their conversation, and a light bulb suddenly went off in my head. This might be my chance to head home… “Well, I guess it’s time for me to head back to my dorm,” I said, attempting to casually slip away. I was desperate to go home and loaf around. However, my attempt to leave was completely thwarted. “Oh, can you show us where the Memorial Hall is on your way there?” Hayase asked me. I had no idea what she was talking about. “Show you where what is?” “We were just talking about it,” Hayase said, her eyebrows arching. “We need to use the piano in the Memorial Hall for the school festival’s jazz concert. It’s located on the grounds of your dorm. Since I’m on the festival committee, I need to make sure it’s working properly, and Koharu said she’d check it to make sure it’s not making any weird sounds.” I’d had no idea Hayase was on the committee for the school festival. “…So why do you want me to take you there?” I asked candidly. Hayase looked startled. “You’re heading back to your dorm anyway, aren’t you?” she replied. Since when did “I’m going back to my dorm” and “I’ll take you there” mean the same thing? “The dorm grounds have those ‘No Unauthorized Entry’ signs up, so you’re only really allowed to go in if you’re a resident, right?” Hayase explained. “Come on, please?” I figured I’d draw negative attention to myself if I said no, so I reluctantly complied. “I guess it’s on my way back anyway.” I was going to take a nap once I got home. I’d still be able to get a good two hours of sleep in. With my mind already on going to bed, I walked out the back gate with the two girls, heading toward the dorm grounds. At that moment, however, Hayase received a call. Judging by her reaction, it was probably from an upperclassman. Following the brief telephone conversation—during which Hayase’s responses had been limited to “Yes” and “Of course”—she told us that she had to go back to campus. “Sorry. I have a festival committee meeting to go to.” Right before leaving, Hayase took Fuyutsuki by the hand. “Can you check that piano for me, Koharu?” she asked, then gave me a cheerful wave. “Look after her for me, Sorano!” Deep down, I wanted to fight back, but I knew rebuffing Hayase’s request at this point would make me look socially inept. I stifled a sigh, and Fuyutsuki and I started making our way to our destination. I gave Fuyutsuki directions as I guided her to the Memorial Hall where the piano was kept, saying things like “There’s a step here,” “We’re about to turn right,” and “There’s a staircase in front of us.” Fuyutsuki used her white cane to identify obstacles as she walked. Was it okay not to offer her my hand while we were walking together? It felt like that’d be the safer option, but I was reluctant to touch her. We found the piano in a big, eerily quiet room inside the Memorial Hall. Sunlight illuminated the dust particles floating in the air, making the whole room sparkle. The large grand piano was sitting in a corner by itself, its shiny black surface covered in a thin layer of dust. I led Fuyutsuki over to the keys. She ran her fingers over them. “Wow!” she exclaimed with childlike wonder. “Do you need help sitting down?” I asked. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” She sat down on the piano bench. I watched from right beside her as she pressed a key with her index finger. “I know it’s a weird question to ask at this point, but how can you play piano if you’re blind?” “I can only play songs I memorized back when I was able to see.” “Oh. I guess there are blind pianists, after all.” “Those people are on another level. I wouldn’t be able to learn a new composition without seeing it.” Fuyutsuki giggled. “A lot of my memories and habits from when I was able to see have stayed with me. I still glance at the spot where the sheet music would be while I’m playing, and I turn to look at people when they speak to me. When there are fireworks, I can’t help but look up, so sometimes, people think I’m able to see. I can still visualize what things look like, which makes me grateful that I was able to see at one point.” The fact that Fuyutsuki was able to say how grateful she was that she’d been able to see—despite having lost her sight—left me speechless. Would it be appropriate to say “That’s great”? Or would she think I was unfairly assuming most people wouldn’t be that positive? I froze, unsure how to respond—but then a sharp, high-pitched sound brought me back to my senses. “Oh, it’s a grand piano,” Fuyutsuki remarked. “You can tell?” “It feels totally different. The keys come back up much faster.” “Whoa.” “It makes me nervous knowing that you’re listening,” Fuyutsuki said, before playing a few chords to test the piano out. It looked like this was second nature to her. Then she adjusted her posture and the position of her seat. “All right. Is it okay if I start playing?” “Sure.” Fuyutsuki placed her long fingers on the keys and took in a deep breath. As she exhaled, she slowly applied pressure. A gentle melody began to fill the silent room. Fuyutsuki’s fingers caressed the keys, producing a rich sound. I was amazed at how talented she was. The piece of music she was playing made me think of the ocean. I could feel the waves gently lapping at my feet, soaking up to my ankles in the water as the blue sky stretched out above me. I could see the surface of the ocean glistening in the distance, and I spotted seabirds flying around. These thoughts flickered across my mind as I gazed absentmindedly out to sea, and white-crested waves suddenly swept onto the shore, the foam shimmering brightly around my feet. At least, that was the way her serene performance made me feel. “How was it?” Fuyutsuki asked me once she’d finished her song. What was I supposed to say to that…? “Mm. I really do love Bach,” I replied offhandedly. Fuyutsuki burst out laughing, her mouth wide open. “Sorry, but that wasn’t Bach.” “Mozart?” “Ooh, you’re so…so wrong.” “It’s got to be Chopin, then!” Fuyutsuki laughed again. “You really crack me up, Sorano. It’s a piece called ‘Arabesque of Waves’ by Akira Miyoshi.” “How am I supposed to know that?” Most people who haven’t studied classical music only know composers whose pictures are displayed in school music rooms—Beethoven, Bach, Mozart, Chopin, and the like. “It’s a song that’s often picked for piano competitions. I played it, too, when I was in fifth grade, and I’ve loved it ever since. I like to play it at a slower tempo than the sheet music suggests, though.” “Honestly, I thought you were really, really good.” I praised Fuyutsuki, surprised that an elementary school student would be able to play a piece like that. She thanked me and gave a satisfied smile. Then she cheerfully asked whether I minded if she played a little more. “Go ahead,” I said, and Fuyutsuki continued playing for the next thirty minutes. “The piano might require a bit of tuning, but I think it’s good enough,” Fuyutsuki said buoyantly. She was walking next to me, having played to her heart’s content. “Do you play often?” I asked her. “Just this electric keyboard I have at home. I play that all the time.” I didn’t have enough time to get a nap in anymore, so we’d decided to head back to campus and grab something to eat at the cafeteria. We left the grounds of the dormitory and waited for the light to change at the crosswalk near the back entrance. “Thank you,” Fuyutsuki said. “No worries.” “I’m not just talking about the piano,” she continued. “When my cane fell over earlier, I tried to pick it up, wondering why I hadn’t attached a bell to it yet—but in the back of my mind, I had the feeling you’d get it for me. And you did! I was so happy.” This unexpected confession caught me totally off guard. “But there was no guarantee I’d pick it up…right?” “No, but you did!” Fuyutsuki was beaming. “You were called on during the lecture, so I knew you were there. I was hoping we might be able to have tea out on the terrace again, but calling out your name in the lecture hall would have been so embarrassing. I’m really glad we got to talk to each other again.” “You have my LINE now, so you can just message me. You don’t have to call my name out in the classroom.” Fuyutsuki’s sudden broad smile and her comment about how happy she was to talk to me again made me feel so embarrassed that I forgot how to sound polite. “Really? I can?” she asked, surprised. “…Sure.” “Okay.” For some reason, she was still beaming, and I thought what a strange person she was. The pedestrian signal turned green, and the sound of a bird chirping came from the crosswalk button. “Shall we go?” Fuyutsuki asked, hearing the noise. For some reason, her voice sounded just as chirpy as the bird’s. It was the end of May, and about a month had gone by since I first met Fuyutsuki. We’d made a habit of hanging out on the terrace together whenever we had free time after lectures. Ever since I’d told her to contact me on LINE, she’d started going out of her way to message me the day before, asking Would you like to have some tea on the terrace? That had made it hard to turn her down. And so here we were, killing time together on the terrace once again. I was eating my ramen from the cafeteria, while Fuyutsuki drank her usual sugar-heavy milk tea. She never ate lunch. Apparently, she didn’t need to after the hearty breakfast her mom made for her every morning. Fuyutsuki had told me she lived in that apartment block with her mom. There was a hospital she had to visit regularly because of her eyesight, so they’d bought a second home in its vicinity. She’d said the words second home so casually that I’d responded with shock. “I have a real-life millionaire sitting here in front of me.” Fuyutsuki puffed out her cheeks, jokingly mad at me. Once I’d finished my ramen, I soaked in the sun and spaced out. There was an early summer breeze in the air, and the blue sky lifted my mood. “Kakeru?” “Hmm?” “I thought you’d disappeared somewhere.” “Oh, right. I guess I went into my shell.” “That was mean of you.” According to Fuyutsuki, whenever I was quiet and withdrawn for a moment, it seemed as though I’d actually disappeared. Apparently, I was quite unique in the way I could erase my presence. For some reason, I found I’d grown fond of the way she began our exchanges with “Kakeru?” I couldn’t remember exactly when it had happened, but one day, Fuyutsuki suddenly asked if we could call each other by our first names. For me, addressing someone by their last name was the most I could manage. Naturally, I declined—but from then on, Fuyutsuki began calling me Kakeru anyway. In all honesty, I’d never expected to develop this kind of relationship with Fuyutsuki, where we could joke around with each other. Yet I felt strangely comfortable with her. We must have fit each other’s rhythms or something. It was the first time in my life I’d had fun talking with a girl. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s that book you’re always reading?” “This one?” replied Fuyutsuki, getting it out of her bag. “Yeah, that’s it.” “The title’s written right here on the front,” she said. “Come on, you know I can’t read braille.” “It’s The Diary of Anne Frank.” “Oh, no way!” “Huh?! Have you read it?” “Nope.” “What?! What was with that reaction, then?!” Fuyutsuki asked with a laugh. “Is the book interesting?” “Seeing how strong-minded and determined she was… It sort of makes me want to try my best, too. There’s this one passage I really like, so I end up reading it over and over again.” Since I’d never read the book, I didn’t really get what Fuyutsuki was talking about, but seeing how lovingly she caressed the cover told me everything I needed to know. It must be a really special book. The kind that leaves a lasting impression. I stared fixedly at the white cover. “Is it hard to read braille?” “I’m used to it now, but it takes a bit of time to master. Recently, audiobooks have become more commonplace, so I listen to those as well. Still, there’s nothing quite like running your fingers across the paper.” “Oh yeah?” “Do you want to give reading braille a go?” Fuyutsuki passed me the white book. I took it and stroked the bumps with my fingers. “Whoa.” “That’s not an answer.” “Well, just give me some time to think about it.” “I take it that’s a no.” Fuyutsuki, who’d seen right through me, laughed again. “By the way, what’s that? I asked. I picked up the yellow bookmark that was tucked inside the book. It was the same one she’d dropped in that lecture way back when. “What’s what?” Fuyutsuki asked, reaching out a hand. I got her to feel it. “Oh,” she said. “That’s a bookmark I made.” There was braille lettering on it. “What does it say?” “It’s something I’d really like you to read, Kakeru.” “I’ll try to figure out what it says when I’m more in the mood.” “Oh, then you’ll never get around to it,” she said, before murmuring, “You’re so funny.” A beat later, she asked a question. “Do you like setting off fireworks?” “Why fireworks?” “I like them.” “I remember you saying that before.” “Did I?” On the night we’d met, Fuyutsuki had said it was her dream to set off fireworks with friends. Even though you can’t see? I asked myself the same question I had when she’d first told me, but once again, I kept my thoughts to myself. “I’m from Shimonoseki,” I told her. “Well, we moved around a lot, but we ended up there.” The swift currents of Shimonoseki’s Kanmon Straits immediately came to mind. “There’s this festival called the Kanmon Straits Fireworks Festival, where they set off fireworks on either side of the strait. Some are set off in Shimonoseki, while others are set off on Moji Port down in Fukuoka.” I suddenly remembered going to the fireworks festival with my mom as a little kid. So I told Fuyutsuki how I’d felt about it. “It was super busy there.” It was such a straightforward remark that she burst out laughing, slapping the table. “I thought you were leading up to something good. What sort of comment is that?” “Seriously, though, the crowds were insane. It’s the second-busiest fireworks festival in the whole of Japan or something.” “It’s so typical of you to focus on that part,” Fuyutsuki said, still laughing. “I’d love to go there. I bet it’s amazing. They must take turns launching fireworks on either side of the water, one after the other.” “But it’s so busy.” At that point, Fuyutsuki said something crazy. “Don’t you think it’s nice how people crowd together to watch fireworks?” I couldn’t help but let out a “Huh?” Fuyutsuki exaggeratedly spread out her hands. “Everyone’s looking up at the night sky, laughing excitedly. You’re surrounded by tons of people, all doing the same thing. When you think about it like that, fireworks are pretty incredible, right?” “Uhhh…” I was speechless. Her way of looking at it was so different from mine that it bewildered me. Fuyutsuki was amazing. What did the world look like to her? I was sure this blind girl in front of me saw something completely different from what I did. Struck by a sort of inferiority complex, I looked down in shame. Since Fuyutsuki couldn’t see what I was doing, I could sit with my head down for as long as I wanted to. Still, I didn’t want to worry her by bringing the conversation to a sudden end. “How’d you make this anyway?” I stroked the bookmark I was looking down at. “It’s pretty easy if you have the right kind of printer.” It goes without saying that I wasn’t able to read it. I traced the bumps with my fingers, but there was still no way I could decipher them. In fact, it was hard to tell which parts were raised and which ones weren’t when I was using the ball of my finger. It’s pretty cool that she can read this, I thought—but touching the braille lettering reminded me that she was truly blind. I couldn’t help but feel like we lived in different worlds. “So you can make braille bookmarks. I didn’t know that.” “I made it after becoming a college student. Have you ever made one of your own? I guess it’s sort of like a bucket list.” I tried to think of things I wanted to do before I died, but all I could come up with was winning the lottery and spending the rest of my days reading inside my room. That wasn’t really a bucket list item, though—more of a general desire. “You never know when you’re going to die,” Fuyutsuki said with a grin. Completely unable to comprehend why she was smiling, I tensed up. That joke was too dark for my tastes. She must have sensed that, because she tried to smooth things over in a panic. “I’m sorry. That was a joke. I was joking!” “Cut it out.” As soon as I’d wiped the sweat off my palms and put the bookmark back on the table, something terrible happened. A strong, humid summer wind came gusting toward us. Some of the chairs on the terrace fell over. The pages of the book on the table riffled in the breeze, and the bookmark…blew away. I reached out a hand, but the bookmark slipped right through my grasp. “Wha…? Huh?!” The bookmark fluttered away on the wind. I ran after it, trying to catch it, but the bookmark flew off the terrace and onto the roof of the student association building, disappearing out of sight. “Huh?” That was all I could say. “Wh-what happened?” Fuyutsuki was shaken up. My panic had rubbed off on her. I explained the entire ordeal from start to finish. “I’m sorry. It was important to you, wasn’t it?” I kept apologizing over and over. “…Oh well.” Fuyutsuki went quiet, her shoulders visibly slumped. “It’s fine. I remember what was written on it anyway.” She was putting on a brave face, but I still felt kind of guilty. Maybe that was why I did it. “Did you know about this?” she began, and I couldn’t find it in me to turn down the request that followed. “There’s a club called the Fireworks Research Society.” Our university has a course for training maritime navigators, so there’s a harbor on campus called the Pond that has some small boats anchored to it. According to Fuyutsuki, there was a prefab building next to the first boathouse in front of the Pond that had a fireworks flyer stuck to it. Apparently, this was the clubroom for the Fireworks Research Society. Hayase had been the one to tell her about it. “Would you mind taking me there? I hate asking Yuuko for help all the time.” “She had a shift at her part-time job this morning, didn’t she?” “Yeah. She’ll be busy working in the café right about now.” “A part-time job, huh?” I wondered whether I should get one myself. Since my dorm was super cheap, I could get by on my scholarship money alone. It never hurt to have a little extra cash, but I didn’t feel like working at all. “Yuuko’s even lovelier when she smells like coffee.” “That does sound kind of cool.” “I want to get a part-time job, too,” Fuyutsuki said. I was surprised, as I figured anyone would be hearing that. It didn’t sound like this was some sort of idle dream she had but something she really wanted to do. Her positivity was genuinely impressive. We left the terrace and started making our way toward the harbor. It didn’t take us long to reach the Pond. Despite the NO FISHING sign at the entrance, there were already three people there with their lines in the water. The sea was shimmering, and white clouds slowly drifted overhead. “This must be the place,” I said. “What’s it like?” Fuyutsuki asked. I described the prefab building in front of us. “It’s, uh, a sight to behold.” “That doesn’t tell me anything,” Fuyutsuki retorted with a laugh. The building looked more like a neglected storage shed. Green ivy crawled over it. There was one large window, but the curtains were drawn, preventing us from peeking inside. The words Fireworks Research Society were messily painted on the door, which also had a faded poster advertising the Sumidagawa Fireworks Festival stuck to it. Metal tubes of various sizes, ranging from about twenty centimeters long to just below knee height, were strewn around the building’s exterior. When I told Fuyutsuki what I could see, her first response was: “Is this one of your jokes, Kakeru?” “I’m not joking. I’m telling you exactly what it looks like. There’s a good chance this place is some kind of evil lair… What do you want to do? Should I knock on the door?” “Yes, please.” I swallowed nervously and knocked on the door to the lair. There was no response, so I tried again. “Seems like no one’s in,” I told Fuyutsuki. “Oh.” We both turned back around—only to be greeted by a skinny man with a scruffy beard. He was standing in front of us, carrying a fishing rod. “Need something?” he asked. I gasped in surprise. I involuntarily grabbed on to Fuyutsuki’s sleeve, and she grabbed hold of mine, too. She somberly pursed her lips, tensing up. “There’s no need to scream,” the man said in a low voice, furrowing his brow. Fuyutsuki kept clinging tightly to my sleeve, not saying a word. It was no use; she was frozen in place. “Uh, are you a member of the Fireworks Research Society?” I asked. “I’m Yuichi Kotomugi, the club president…though it’s just me in the club,” he replied lethargically. He opened the door to the prefab building and shoved his fishing rod inside. “How can I help you?” “We just came to take a look.” “What about that girl? Is she blind?” he asked bluntly, having spotted Fuyutsuki’s white cane. “I—I am,” said Fuyutsuki, finally managing to speak. “You’re blind and you’re into fireworks? Well, I guess you don’t need to see them to enjoy them. The sound is part of the fun, too.” The club president closed his eyes and nodded in approval. Then, out of nowhere, Fuyutsuki asked something unexpected. “Can you set off fireworks here?” Kotomugi looked noticeably skeptical. “Why do you ask?” “We noticed some fireworks being launched from campus the other day, so it’d make sense.” I thought about the fireworks I’d seen on the day of the freshman party—the same day I’d met Fuyutsuki. It did seem like they’d been launched from around the Pond. “I’d like to set off fireworks, too.” “What’s wrong with watching them from afar with everyone else?” “I’d prefer to experience it up close, if I can.” “Easier said than done. Fireworks are dangerous. If you can’t see, you could end up hurting yourself.” As he spoke, Kotomugi rolled up his sleeve, revealing burn scars pockmarking his arms. They must have been caused by fireworks. He was probably trying to give us a visual warning of the risks involved, and if Fuyutsuki could see, I’m sure it would’ve gotten the message across. However, her expression was blank. Seeing her lack of a reaction, the guy said, “Oh yeah,” and rolled down his sleeves again. “What’s the matter?” Fuyutsuki asked. “Nah, it’s nothing,” he replied dryly. “Please tell me,” she urged, but Kotomugi just turned his back to her. Fuyutsuki looked like she wanted to say something else, but I stepped in. “Come on,” I said, and the two of us decided to go back to the terrace. “Did something happen back there?” she asked. “What do you mean?” “It went all quiet. I figured that guy was making a gesture or something.” I told Fuyutsuki about the burn scars I’d seen. “Oh,” she muttered after hearing the story. “It makes me really sad when people just give up on explaining stuff.” Judging by her tone, this was something she’d experienced countless times before. I remembered hearing that humans absorbed about 70 percent of their information through sight—but Fuyutsuki was blind. There were also times when people communicated using nothing but visual cues like eye contact or gestures, and if someone couldn’t do that, they’d often just give up trying. I could understand why that might be disheartening. “I, for one, don’t want to give up,” Fuyutsuki murmured. A few moments later, though, she suddenly raised her voice, as if she’d come up with a great idea. “I know!” As we were walking down the street surrounded by fresh greenery, Fuyutsuki turned to me with a huge smile. The way she’d shifted from her earlier downcast expression to this radiant grin startled me. The sunlight filtering through the leaves illuminated her pretty face. I couldn’t help but think how cute her smile was. However, what she said next brought me back to my senses. “Let’s have our own fireworks display!” “Absolutely not!” It sounded like such a hassle. “Uhhh…,” Fuyutsuki said, coming a stop. “I mean, don’t you find this frustrating?” I didn’t feel that way in the slightest, but Fuyutsuki continued undeterred. “I heard they have fireworks stores in Asakusabashi.” “It’s still a firm no from me.” “Just let me say one more thing!” “Oh yeah? And what’s that?” “You’re a really nice guy, Kakeru.” “Huh? Are you already assuming I’ll take you there?” Fuyutsuki stifled a laugh, then grinned and said four simple words: “I lost my bookmark.” “Uhhh…” This time, I was the one who came to a stop. Was this her way of saying I couldn’t refuse? “Please,” she implored again, beaming at me. In the end, I gave in. “When do you want to go?” I said, utterly humiliated.