Anju and the Balloon Flower

Some sweet memories, but not a happy ending

Kento Nanami raised his umbrella a little and glanced at the apartment building, his brows unconsciously knitting together. But he said nothing. He just handed me his backpack and asked tentatively, "Could you tell me your name?"

I told him my name was Shimizu Himari. My Chinese name was quite long and complicated, and hard for Japanese people who couldn't curl their tongues to pronounce, so I didn't tell him.

Kento Nanami said he wanted to know.

So I carefully read those three Chinese characters aloud for him twice.

Kento Nanami repeated them. I think he was trying hard to imitate my pronunciation, but he still got them all wrong. So I covered my mouth and laughed softly again. My laughter and the low, muffled grumble in his throat were swallowed up by the rain.

At last, Kento Nanami told me he had already started working. He'd be going out of town on a business trip the next day and might not be back for several days. He'd started working straight after graduating from high school. To protect his privacy, I didn't ask which high school he'd gone to or what he did for a living, and I didn't suggest that he should go to university. Everyone has their own path to follow. Even I sometimes wondered if I'd chosen the right one, but I wouldn't stand in his way.

Kento Nanami said he'd bring me a gift next time.

Theme: Memories remain vivid and profound forever