Hana felt out of place in this future world, forty years beyond what she knew. Everything seemed transformed, and her mind overflowed with questions. She had constantly found herself thinking of her lifelong friend, Airi. She contemplated asking Jun for any news about Airi. However, she remembered Jun and Airi had a mere acquaintance status. Their mutual connection was primarily because of her. With her absence for such a lengthy forty years, maybe Jun hadn't stayed connected with Airi.
Yet, much to her astonishment, Jun had already made contact with Airi. And her cherished friend, Airi, who had kept her memory alive, eagerly came to see her.
On the bed, Hana and Airi became engrossed in chat, the hours just slipping away. They primarily shared stories of Airi's journey through the years. Every so often, Hana would chime in with her own anecdotes, leading both of them to burst into such infectious laughter that time seemed to vanish.
Their deep conversation was interrupted only when Hana's stomach signaled hunger. She thought it best to freshen up before seeking out some food.
While Hana was tidying up in the bathroom, Airi's voice flowed from the other side of the door. She excitedly shared about her granddaughter, "Check this picture, see how lovely she is? At thirteen, she's already skilled in dancing and playing the piano. Oh, and here's my grandson; he's a delightful three-year-old with such pinchable cheeks..."
In a quiet moment of reflection, Hana found it surreal that her best friend was now a grandmother. Emotions of both joy and a tinge of sorrow washed over her.
Coming down the staircase, Hana's eyes landed on a portly older gentleman deep in conversation with Jun. She nudged Airi subtly, whispering, "Is that gentleman your husband?"
Airi, catching the drift, nodded in affirmation and whispered back, "Age added to his frame. But I promise you, in our youthful days, he was a sight to behold."
It occurred to Hana that Airi, always having an eye for good looks, must've chosen a truly handsome man back in the day.
This affable older man, with warmth evident in his smile, introduced himself to Hana, "Airi often reminisced about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Watanabe Hiroshi."
A gentle smile played on Hana's lips, thinking Hiroshi must've been quite the heartthrob in his younger days to catch Airi's discerning eye.
As the morning meal started, Airi enthusiastically showed Hana a series of photographs, prominently from her wedding. With a touch of nostalgia, she said, "You couldn't be there for my wedding. It was a void I always felt. Today, I want you to live those moments through these photos." Hiroshi, ever present beside her, occasionally added his two cents about a memory, their shared glances and smiles painting a picture of deep love and camaraderie.
Hana fixated on the image of her closest friend, radiant in bridal attire, while Airi's narrative flowed around her. As the stories unfolded, Hana's attention meandered, and her gaze settled on Jun, seated not too far off. He remained silent, attentive, his expressions revealing nothing of his inner thoughts.
Hiroshi, lost in memories, shared, "We were together for many moons, yet Airi always held back from a formal wedding. When she touched 35, doubts crept in. I wondered if there was something about me she was discontent with, causing her hesitation to wed. But later, it dawned on me. She wished to reunite with you first, wanting you present on her big day. She felt that without her closest companion, her wedding would lack something essential."
Emotions shimmered in Airi's eyes. "We had made promises. You were to stand by me, my bridesmaid. Your absence meant no bridesmaid for me. I reserved a spot, always hoping."
Aiming to lighten the mood, Hana quipped, masking her own surge of emotions, "So, what charm did you wield to make our Airi finally say 'I do'?"
Chuckling, Hiroshi spilled the beans, "Well, our son was on the way. Airi's mother said that any more delay, and Airi might outgrow a stylish wedding gown. So, the wedding bells."
Amused, Hana remarked, "That sounds utterly like our image-conscious Airi." An unspoken thought hovered - Airi was her age peer. When Airi touched 35, Hana was gone, lost for seven years. With her whereabouts unknown, they must have feared the worst.
Eager for some bonding, Airi proposed, "How about a day out, just us?"
Hana responded instantly, "Absolutely."
On Airi's insistence, both Hiroshi and Jun remained behind, ensuring the day belonged only to the duo. As they prepared to leave, Hiroshi, with evident concern, cautioned Airi, "Stay mindful. Know your health limits. Keep the excitement in check, steer clear of sugar, and always have your medication nearby."
Jun, casting a caring glance Hana's way, softly added, "Reach out if you're ever in doubt. Don't hesitate."
Taking their advice to heart, Airi led the way. Hana presumed a specific destination was on the agenda. Yet, they found themselves in front of a cinema.
"A movie?" Hana questioned. But the realization that four decades had passed without her seeing a film made her hold back any reservations. To Hana's surprise, instead of buying tickets, Airi chose a seat outdoors, offering a view of the bustling street.
Peering at the road, a mischievous glint in her eye, Airi nudged Hana, "Recognize this?"
Hana, surrounded by unfamiliarity, shook her head. "Should I? Was it close to where you lived?"
Drawing a deep breath, Airi elaborated, "This was where our high school stood. About ten years back, the school shifted, and this was taken down... Quite unrecognizable now, right? During the demolition, our old classmates converged here for a nostalgic reunion. Everyone, except you. Truthfully, even my last visit seems a lifetime ago. It's morphed so much since."
Hana found it hard to believe that this location once housed the Green Leaf High School of her recollections. She gazed out, observing the streets and people below, her eyes reflecting distant memories.
Back in her school days, particularly during her junior and senior years, Hana was the typical rebel. She saw school almost like a jail and couldn't stand anything associated with it. As a result, she often skipped school, got into altercations, spent time in internet cafes, took up smoking and drinking, and even colored her hair a bright shade of red. Most of her actions were aimed at upsetting her father. If it annoyed him, she was all for it. From her teens through her early college years, her primary objective was to push her father's patience to its limits with her antics.
Only later did she understand that, regardless of her rebellious actions, her father remained unyielding and stoic. As time passed, her resentment towards him diminished, and she moved from outright rebellion to merely avoiding him.
To her, these memories felt like they had happened just yesterday.
Out of the blue, Hana inquired, "Did the private Aoi High School, which was close to Green Leaf High School, move to some other place too?"
Airi responded, "Indeed, it moved to the educational zone as well, but it's now a good distance from Green Leaf High's new location."
Hana was an alumnus of Green Leaf High, a school renowned for its rough student body. Their headteacher often remarked that these kids, once they ventured out into the world, might become societal nuisances. Instead of attending the esteemed high school her father had chosen, Hana defiantly picked Green Leaf. This decision earned her a stern reprimand from her father, one that had her limping for weeks.
In stark contrast to her time at Green Leaf, the adjacent Aoi High School, separated only by a barrier, was a top-tier academy — characterized by its high fees and limited student intake.
Around her first senior high semester, Hana would frequently scale the barrier to enter Aoi campus. While Green Leaf's setting was less than ideal, making it challenging to even find a quiet spot during lunch, Aoi was a notch above in both ambiance and academics. So whenever Hana sought a serene escape or needed introspection, she would clamber over to Aoi.
On one such day, after playing truant and sneaking into Aoi, she neared a restroom, catching the sound of faint disturbances from inside.
Intrigued and with a cigarette dangling from her lips, she decided to check it out. Inside, she witnessed two boys intimidating a more delicate boy, pinning him against the restroom wall. One of them, wielding a plastic cleaning bucket, drenched the slender boy, soaking him thoroughly. His trousers had been yanked down, leaving him vulnerable and exposed from the waist downwards. Yet, throughout the ordeal, he remained mute, enduring their torment without protest.
Hana observed the duo as they continued to mock the boy they cornered, sneering, "Think acing exams makes you superior? Sure, you're top of the class. But will you rat us out to the teacher?"
Positioned by the restroom entrance, Hana pondered, So even in a school of exemplary students, bullying's rampant? She'd figured such acts were unique to her chaotic school. Reflecting on this revelation, she removed the cigarette from her lips and quipped with a playful grin, "Wow, even the 'perfect' students have a mean streak?"
Her stance at the restroom's entrance, coupled with her unkempt school uniform and colorful hair hue, not to mention the cigarette she held, made her the picture of a 'rebel' in the younger boys' eyes. Their courage was evident when picking on someone their age, but Hana's appearance, particularly her Green Leaf High School attire, took them aback.
Maybe it was Green Leaf High's infamous reputation that unnerved them. They hastily abandoned the bucket and ran off, leaving Hana alone with the wet, timid boy.
He looked several years younger than Hana, sporting glasses and a geeky, bowl-cut hairstyle. Clearly shaken, he stayed hunched over. Despite his ordeal, Hana's fleeting assessment was that bullies at her school tended to strip their victims entirely, unlike this half-hearted attempt.
"Aren't you going to fix your trousers?" she motioned with a nod.
Awakened from his terror, the boy's cheeks reddened. He swiftly readjusted his pants, his head lowered, resembling a spooked little bird.
Hana surmised he might fear further harassment from her. Feeling somewhat disinterested, she turned to leave.
The most surprising twist was that this seemingly pitiable young boy, whom she promptly forgot, turned out to be Jun. He was in his sophomore year at Aoi. Hana was enlightened about this only after their marriage, thanks to Jun's revelation.
Without Jun's disclosure, she'd never have linked the mild-mannered man she married to that beleaguered, bookish boy.
Reflecting on the past, Jun once shyly confessed, "Back then, I saw you as some ethereal being, almost fairy-like." This left Hana, now a wife, thoroughly bemused. She suspected young Jun must've had a quirky taste. How did her audacious teenage persona ever remind someone of a fairy?
…
Deep in reminiscence, Hana was roused by Airi's melancholic exhale, "Hana, you've returned. I genuinely feel happy for Jun."
Jolted from her trip down memory lane, Hana responded with a puzzled, "What?"