Origami Girl

Chapter 7: Bastion of Hopes and Desires I

Origami Girl

Chapter 7: Bastion of Hopes and Desires

"Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don't go along with that. The memories I value most, I don't ever see them fading."

― Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

 

KashiwagiJarrett

"Hey, aren't you alighting at Showabashi? Come ride the tram with us then," a few of my friends beckoned me, the group beginning to line up along the platform to board the approaching eastbound tram.

"Sorry guys, I'll pass," I muttered a little softly, "I'm waiting for someone."

"Your girlfriend?" one of them asked.

"Come on, she's not my girlfriend. . ." I replied, " Just a close friend."

"Are you sure Otomo-san isn't your girlfriend?" another of them questioned, a mischievous smirk on his lips, "Come on, we all know both you and her are on a first-name basis, Kashiwagi-kun."

"We're just close, known her since I was six. Just childhood friends you know?"

I saw a few of them snicker among themselves before boarding the tram carriage.  Well, they could believe whatever they want. As the tram door closed, they waved at me. I waved back, trying hard to look cheerful, but to no avail.

I watched the tram trek down the road headed towards the mountains of the north-east. The sky was slightly overcast, and the tears of heaven began falling to the ground staining the asphalt ground with dark circles. It was Friday on the first week of the second trimester, just after the summer holidays have ended. Summer was in transition to autumn in most places, but in the chilly northern areas of Japan, the leaves begin turning yellow at the end of August. A strong chilly breeze blew through the station, causing a chill to run down my spine. Involuntarily, I sneezed. I was going to catch a cold for sure, and I silently cursed myself for forgetting to bring my hoodie that day. It was a typical rainy autumn afternoon.

The memories all came flooding back, nearly overcoming me. So intense and so clear were they, as if Nanako was still here and I'd only met her yesterday. But the clearest memory of her was that of her wake. Yes, I assured myself, her wake happened on a rainy autumn afternoon as well.

I remembered that day very well, and never will I forget it. The sights, sounds and smells all seemed to replay at the back of my head.

The wake was held at the multi-purpose event hall just a few streets away. The aroma of burning incense wafted through the air, and the voices reciting the lengthy mantras were resonating against the walls. Nanako lay in a casket at the front of the hall, in front of her lay a table for offerings. Everyone was dressed in black, the men in suits and the women in long dresses and hats. There was the occasional relative who wore the traditional black mourning kimono, including Nanako's mother.

Soon, in groups, the funeral attendees went up to the casket to pay their respects. They offered some incense sticks, before bowing solemnly and returning to their seats. Relatives went up first, with Nanako's parents leading, then came her grandparents and her other relatives. Once the relatives were done, Nanako's father went up to where we were seated, and offered my father for our turn to go next. We solemnly agreed.

My heart filled with dread with every heavy trudging step I took, my right foot dragging myself forward towards the front of the hall, my left leg rendered useless for the time being in a plaster cast. Crutches supporting me, I made my way in between my parents. My father was on my left, dressed in a suit and black tie, while my mother was on my right, clad in a conservative black formal dress, her face hidden by the large hat and veil adorning her head. As we walked past the rows of seats, I caught sight of Sayaka, where we made eye contact for a few seconds, before she turned away, looking in the other direction altogether.