Setting Sail
>I HAD ALCOHOL yesterday. With a friend.<
>>Oh, because it was your birthday?<<
>Yes.<
>I tried beer.<
>>How was it?<<
>>I hear it’s sour.<<
>That’s exactly right.<
>It was so sour.<
>It didn’t leave me craving more, that’s for sure.<
>>You’ll like it once you get used to it.<<
>>Maybe?<<
>I think I’ll pass for the time being.<
>>Mine’s in February, so that’s still a ways away for me.<<
>I know.<
>I’m your elder by a year for now.<
>>Yours is in the summer and mine is in the winter.<<
>>Shouldn’t it be the opposite?<<
>You think so?<
>>Hmm.<<
>>Actually, I guess I’m not really all that summery.<<
>Right.<
>You remind me more of spring.<
>>Why spring?<<
>Because that’s when we met.<
>>Haha, fair enough.<<
>>You’re the picture of winter.<<
>>Since you’re composed and stuff.<<
>I don’t think I’m composed, but…<
>Sure.<
>Let’s go with that.<
>>That response is kind of concerning…<<
>>But right, so alcohol, huh?<<
>>I’d like to have a drink with you someday.<<
>Yes, someday.<
>>Yeah.<<
>>I hope that day really does come.<<
As I listened to the sounds coming from the once-unused second floor, I heard the musical clatter of a cup. The coffee I’d ordered had been prepared while I was preoccupied with my phone. And Miyako-san, the café manager, was smiling on the other side of the counter.
“You don’t look so hot.”
If she noticed that with just a glance, it must be terribly obvious. The aroma drifted from the coffee cup, taking on the outline of Miyako-san’s café. My cloudy vision cleared slightly.
“Something wrong? Maybe I can help a little.”
“Erm…”
“It looks like something’s weighing on your mind.”
“Yes. A headache.”
Miyako-san gave me a blank stare. She had probably meant that figuratively. But from my point of view, that was exactly what was troubling me.
“It just won’t go away,” I groaned as I held my forehead.
“Oh, maybe it’s a summer cold?”
I shook my head. Of course that’s how she would interpret things, since I looked sick, but the reality was even more miserable than that.
“I think it’s probably from the drinks I had yesterday.”
Since I was going off of my general knowledge, I didn’t know if I’d gotten the symptoms correct. But I suspected that the source of the listlessness and headache that had plagued me since morning without relief was none other than…
“A hangover?”
“I think so. Possibly.”
At my dubious expression, Miyako-san broke into a smile. She drew away for a moment, prepared something, and came back.
“In that case, start with this.”
She set a glass of what looked like water down next to the coffee. When I picked it up and looked at it closely, it was a little cloudy for water. I gingerly took a sip; it wasn’t the clear taste of water either, but something slightly sweeter. It tasted familiar, although I couldn’t quite place it.
“It’s what they call a sports drink. They’re a good way to stock up on salt and sugar as well as hydration.”
“Thank you…”
I was surprised she had something like that on hand. Perhaps she drank it herself.
While sipping the contents of the glass a little bit at a time, I checked the clock.
Not even a full day had passed since Edamoto-san confessed to me.
After I got home from her apartment, I flopped onto my bed and was completely unconscious until morning. I was thankful I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, but if you looked at it objectively, I had just drank alcohol, returned home, and passed out until morning. The bold debut of a twenty-year-old.
After that, I had my morning bath, and just as I began to regain my composure, I became aware of a tight pain in my temple. And now, here I was.
Miyako-san observed my current state, looking amused.
“First time?”
“Yes, I was celebrating my birthday.”
“Oh, happy birthday,” Miyako-san said breezily. Then her eyes wandered off. “Hmm.”
“Um, is something wrong?”
“I was debating on whether to give you that coffee on the house.”
“No need, but I appreciate the thought.” I put down my glass and looked up. “More importantly, I sort of wanted to talk to you about something…”
I felt a sense of déjà vu, like this scene had happened recently. A bit too much time had passed to really call it “recent”, but Miyako-san was still calm as ever as I looked up to her.
“Hmm.” Miyako-san looked around the café. The tables were brimming with a type of clientele I hadn’t seen before. “Could we do this after things settle down a little?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry I have to do this when you have a hangover, but just hang in there for a little.”
Does my hangover really have anything to do with it? I wanted to refute her, but when I turned, a sharp pain seemed to pierce the back of my head. It seemed the hangover was deeply relevant after all. Though I think there were other reasons besides the alcohol that my eyes and head were spinning, I couldn’t deny that I’d been rash about my drinking.
I think my usual self would have done more research before actually drinking.
Maybe I had been a little too excited.
Thus, I obediently waited for Miyako-san. It was so busy, I actually felt bad for overstaying my visit on just a single cup of coffee. Miyako-san had told me before that having a thriving café was a dream of hers, and it seemed to me that her dream had really come true. I watched the scene over the rim of my coffee cup, and suddenly a thought came to mind.
Have I ever had a dream come true up until now?
My headache calmed down a little while I was waiting. Now having a serious conversation shouldn’t be too difficult, I thought.
“Sorry for the wait. Oh, by the way—when it comes to drinking alcohol, it’s best to do it after you’ve got something in your stomach,” Miyako-san returned to me while wiping her hands, then gave me some unprompted advice.
“I won’t be drinking for a while, but thank you…”
“I thought the same thing when I started drinking.”
As Miyako-san smiled at me, I couldn’t help thinking that she seemed like a higher-level adult than me; perhaps I still had some childish parts left myself. These divisions were more complicated than just “child” versus “adult”—there must be many more levels and delineations of adulthood, too.
I had come to this café because I thought of her as such an adult.
With my hand still adorning the cup, I cast my eyes down a little and spoke. “Someone confessed their feelings to me the other day.”
“Oh?”
Having said that, I realized it was actually just yesterday, not “the other day.” But there was no need to get hung up on such minor details.
Miyako-san leaned forward and positioned herself to listen closely.
“Who was it? Someone at college?”
“Yes. A first year—one year below me.”
“Is she cute? Or more on the beautiful side?”
Based on the way she asked that and smiled, it seemed like she had particular examples in mind for both options.
Considering the people who had come to the café with me in the past, I could guess who she was thinking of immediately. But Edamoto-san didn’t look like either of those two at all. It also seemed that she was assuming the person who had confessed to me was a girl. Well, I suppose that makes sense, I thought.