The Gardener of the Sleeping Forest, Episode 3: 'Lost Children in the Thicket / Hana Takamiya'

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Episode 3: 'Lost Children in the Thicket'

　I first saw them when the heatwave was still ongoing. It was past the Obon holiday, but still around the time when students were on summer vacation.

　That day, I was riding the train in an indescribable mood, weighed down by a work failure and a sense of unease.

　This was my third summer trying to make a living as a freelancer. I usually stay cooped up at home, but I had gone out for a rare reporting job and I think I got a bit too excited, like I was on an outing. A series of mistakes due to lack of preparation and forgotten items caused a lot of trouble for the people I was interviewing.

　As I was riding the train home, dragging the shock of it all with me, a woman holding a baby stood in front of me. When I tried to offer her my seat, she coldly snapped, 'He gets fussy if I'm not standing, so don't do anything unnecessary.'

　I kept my eyes on my smartphone in an awkward mood while standing in close proximity to the mother, but all I could see were suffocating news stories.

　Tax hike after tax hike, accidents involving elderly drivers, the birth rate hitting a new record low again—and then, at the most devastating moment, a long message arrived from an ex-boyfriend I had broken up with a long time ago.

　The content of the message was, as always, a familiar structure even before I read it: first, he talks about his one-sided love and hate, adds threats here and there, and finally apologizes for his rudeness—it was incredibly creepy. This is sent about once every two months. Even though I haven't replied to a single one.

　I felt an urge to let out a strange scream like 'Eee!!', but I managed to hold it back. However, when things go bad, they really do pile up. The moment I got off the train, I was hit by a sudden downpour. I must have missed the notification from my weather app.

　I already dislike the rain, but why did it have to be now of all times? Oh well, I'll have Chihaya listen to my complaints later. With that as my only emotional support, I went through the ticket gate.

　I bought a 300-yen plastic umbrella at the station building, but the rain was so heavy that my feet were getting wet anyway. While I was on my way home and waiting for the light at a crosswalk, I sensed someone running and stopping next to me. It was a middle school boy, soaking wet without an umbrella.

　Perhaps he was on his way home from club activities; he was so small that if he weren't in his school uniform, I would have mistaken him for an elementary school student, and he still had an innocent look about him as he desperately clutched a large sports bag.

　It seemed like it contained something very important, and his intensity and impatience to protect at least that from the rain were palpable.

　Ah, if only I had another umbrella, I could have helped him.

　No, should I just give him this umbrella and walk home in the rain? It might be just right for my mood today. My shoes and socks are already soaked anyway. But if I did that, he might be wary of me as a strange woman, and at worst, I might end up on the school's list of suspicious persons.

　As I hesitated and stole a glance at his profile, his lips were blue, even though it was summer.

　The moment I started to close my umbrella, a loud voice suddenly came from behind me, 'Hey!', and a shadow appeared over the boy's head. The rain that had been pouring down on his innocent uniform stopped wetting his shoulders.

As I turned around, just like the boy, I saw a man who looked to be about my age, wearing a T-shirt and work clothes, holding an umbrella out toward the boy.

He was getting drenched in the pouring rain, yet he stood with such a dignified air, as if he didn't care at all. Combined with his sturdy, athletic build, he gave off a somewhat strange aura. The boy seemed completely intimidated.

Use this! I'm giving it to you! If you don't need it, just return it to the umbrella stand at that convenience store!

He said this in a voice that didn't lose out to the sound of the rain, handed over the umbrella with an attitude that brooked no argument, and then ran toward the convenience store behind him.

I thought he was going to dash into the store, but instead, he got into a black HiAce parked in the lot and drove off immediately. Through the windshield, I saw him give a small wave to the boy.

Oh, thank you so much!

The boy's words of thanks might not have reached him, but his gratitude surely did, along with the sight of him bowing deeply.

After returning home, when Chihaya, who I knew had been waiting, asked me, 'How was your day?', the first thing that came out of my mouth wasn't a complaint, but rather talk about this person who was like a 'drive-by act of kindness'.

...

As I held out my wallet, I remembered what Azumi-chan had said to me at the yakiniku restaurant.

Hana, you've got a gray hair. There's one standing out right there.

Once you're on the downhill slope of your thirties, it's not uncommon to notice the aging of your body. It had only been about a year since I first got a gray hair, and when I hurriedly asked those around me, I found out I was actually on the later side.

Regardless, I realized only after bowing my head that the top of my head, which I was currently bowing, was being presented right in front of the person I was interested in. My face, which is prone to blushing, must have been turning an amusing shade of red.

Oh, Mr. Takatora Muromi. I've finally learned your name, and it sounds like a Sengoku warlord—it's wonderful.

As Takatora-san reached for my wallet, his fingers brushed against mine, and my fingers twitched slightly, surprised by the unexpected sensation of human skin. When I looked up with a prayer in my heart, his face, strangely enough, was just as red as mine.

And it was an expression that was, if anything, favorable and tinged with shyness—in other words, he was looking at me as a woman.

I was genuinely happy, but at the same time, I felt a slight sense of loss that he was no longer just 'that nice person I occasionally see at the convenience store' in my mind, but a man named Takatora-san.

Hey, is that your companion?

Thanks to Azumi-chan's words, I finally realized that the voice that sounded like a scream, which I had been hearing for a while, was calling out 'Takatora.' The owner of the voice was waving at us while surrounded by police officers.

Azumi-chan said to Takatora-san, who was wearing a bitter smile.

"It sounds interesting, so I'm coming along. Come on, Hana."

Takatora-san's bitter smile turned into surprise, and before we could interject, Azumi-chan grabbed my hand and headed toward the ticket gate. Takatora-san hurriedly followed after us.

This is all backwards.

About thirty minutes later, for some reason, we were inside a French restaurant, four of us huddled around a course meal meant for two.

"This is the duck confit. The sauce is made with high-quality Italian balsamic vinegar and acacia honey from Nagano Prefecture."

A waiter who looked like a newcomer carefully explained the dish, showed a bit of confusion at us forcing four chairs around a table for two, and finally placed the plates in front of me and Azumi-chan.

"Um... Yanagawa-san and Takatora-san, please go ahead..."

"It's fine, we're already full from the soup. We're the ones who insisted on inviting you, so please, don't hold back and eat."

Yanagawa-san said this while radiating the intensity of a salesman on the job, adjusting the collar of his ill-fitting jacket. I had thought he was much older than Takatora-san, but it turns out they are childhood friends and classmates. And apparently, he is the same age as me, too.

"No, um, we just finished eating yakiniku. So really, the dessert you ordered for us earlier is more than enough..."

When the topic of age came up earlier, Azumi-chan revealed that today was my birthday, and Yanagawa-san immediately ordered a birthday dessert plate. I feel bad, even though we just met.

As I was desperately trying to decline the meat, a muscular arm reached out from my right and picked up the plate of duck.

"Well then, I'll have it without hesitation."

Yanagawa-san glared at Takatora-san as if he had something to say, but Takatora-san ignored him, picked up his knife and fork, and finished it in the blink of an eye.

"I don't know what a confit is, but it's delicious."

The usual laugh lines appeared at the corners of Takatora-san's eyes as he smiled contentedly. His sharp eyes softened all at once. Ah, this is nice. This face in this moment is wonderful. I could almost eat a bowl of white rice just looking at this smile.

“Oh, I see. You’re hungry from manual labor, right? It’s fine, eat as much as you want. Besides, you were having grilled meat earlier, weren’t you? In that case, I’ll have the other one...”

Mr. Yanagawa said this while glancing at Azumi-chan, but two-thirds of the duck had already found its way into her stomach.

Picking up on Mr. Yanagawa’s words, Azumi-chan asked Takatora-san a question.

“Manual labor, like at a construction site? You’ve got a solid build, after all.”

“No, I’m what you’d call a local gardener.”

I see. I had assumed he worked outdoors based on his usual attire and tanned skin, but I didn’t expect him to be a gardener. I usually associate that profession with traditional Japanese clothing, but I guess people wear regular work clothes these days.

“I am a tax accountant.”

Mr. Yanagawa chimed in, even though no one had asked.

When they entered the restaurant, Takatora-san took off his jacket to reveal his usual work clothes, and although Mr. Yanagawa looked a bit sour about it, the restaurant staff didn’t seem to mind at all.

More importantly, it was a bigger problem that Mr. Yanagawa had been so unreasonable and persistent with the waiter, who was already struggling because four people had shown up for a reservation meant for two.

“I’m afraid we are fully booked. Due to our inventory, we can only provide the course meal for two people.”

“The men will just stand, so please don’t worry about it. The course for two is plenty; we’ll order additional items à la carte.”

As a result, two chairs were added to the table set for two, and the four of us ended up huddled around a table that was a bit too small, looking like we were playing mahjong.

I felt bad for the restaurant, having only two course meals for four people. But, honestly, I was already full. Just as I was thinking that, Azumi-chan spoke as if she could read my mind.

“Oh, a tax accountant? Then let’s not hold back and order a bottle of wine.”

The deal was that Mr. Yanagawa would pay for everything today. Apparently, he had been stood up by his date, and since he would have been charged the full cancellation fee for the course meal on the day of, he decided to invite his friend Takatora-san instead.

And for some reason, he had begged me and Azumi-chan, who happened to be with Takatora-san, saying, “I am definitely not a suspicious person and I won’t do anything strange, so please, come with us!”

After Azumi-chan agreed immediately, the self-proclaimed non-suspicious Mr. Yanagawa offered his thanks while clearly staring at the cleavage between Azumi-chan’s ample breasts.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I like women who eat a lot. Oh, of course, I also find women with small appetites cute.”

Mr. Yanagawa said this while looking back and forth between me and Azumi-chan.

“What kind of friends are you two? If you don’t mind me asking, are you married?”

“I’m divorced and single, and Hana is single and never-married.”

Azumi-chan answered that bluntly, then began to talk about how we met at a ballet class.

When I happened to look to my right, I noticed that Takatora-san, who was listening to our conversation, was making a gesture as if he were lightly tugging on his left ear. Come to think of it, he had been doing that to his left ear several times since earlier.

The dessert plate that was brought out a while later was so cute that even I, despite being full, felt drawn to it. On a vibrant blue plate, the words “Joyeux anniversaire!”—which I assumed meant Happy Birthday in French—were written in chocolate, and a variety of colorful petit desserts were arranged alongside it.

“Wow, it looks delicious. Yanagawa-san, thank you so much.”

“Thank you for being so pleased with it! I’m the one who should be thanking you!!”

As he said that, Yanagawa-san blinked at me quite intensely for some reason. It seemed he was trying to wink.

I was confused, not knowing how to react, when suddenly something was held out from my right side.

It was a small twig laden with many little red berries, decorated with red and green ribbons. It was a bit of early Christmas color. It was like a tiny, miniature bouquet.

When I looked up to my right in surprise, Takatora-san grinned and said, “Happy birthday.” That familiar laugh line appeared on his face.

Azumi-chan let out a sound of admiration and asked,

“That’s a classy move. What is it? Where did you pull that from?”

“It was blooming in the garden where I was working, and the grandchild there gave it to me on my way out. I never expected it to come in handy.”

“Thank you very much. It’s lovely, it’s a greenbrier, isn’t it?”

When I spoke the name of the berries, it was Takatora-san’s turn to let out a sound of surprise.

“You sure know your stuff. Most people can’t tell them apart from holly.”

Greenbrier produces red berries that look just like the English holly familiar in Christmas decorations, so it is often used as a substitute for things like Christmas wreaths.

“Do you know the story of Sleeping Beauty? It’s also called Briar Rose. I wanted to know what kind of briar appeared in that story, so I looked it up. That’s why I’m a little knowledgeable about plants in the rose family.”

How many years had it been since I’d received flowers for my birthday? Well, they weren’t flowers, but berries.

As I stared at the red berries with a ticklish feeling, Mr. Yanagawa asked me another question.

"Come to think of it, Hana-san, how do you know Takatora?"

I glanced at Takatora-san, but he didn't seem to have any intention of speaking up.

"Um, I work from home, but I try to go for a walk every morning to get some exercise. There's a convenience store I often stop by during those walks. I ended up spilling the contents of my coin purse inside the store, and Takatora-san helped me pick them up..."

In truth, the first time I saw him was that summer day in the pouring rain. But that was something Takatora-san couldn't possibly know.

At my explanation, Azumi-chan voiced her doubt.

"You become acquaintances just because someone picked up your loose change? If it were me, I'd just thank them on the spot and forget their face."

Yes, normally that would be the end of the story.

However, my clumsiness and Takatora-san's kindness didn't end with just that one time.

"Well, the thing is... the very next day, I spilled my coins again, and by some incredible coincidence, Takatora-san was there again... You know, Azumi-chan, you know my green coin purse. When I try to take out a lot of coins, they all come spilling out at once..."

I was so embarrassed by this grandmotherly blunder that my explanation became stuttered, so Takatora-san stepped in to continue the story for me.

"When I met her at the convenience store again after that, Hana-san was the one who called out to me. I wondered what was up, but she went out of her way to thank me. And then... ah, sorry... that..."

For some reason, Takatora-san was holding back a burst of laughter. I was curious about what exactly he was laughing at, but at the same time, being called "Hana-san" again felt ticklish.

"She told me with such a serious face that she had started paying with electronic money so she wouldn't cause any more trouble. It was just so funny that I couldn't help but laugh."

As he said this, Takatora-san gave up on trying to hold back his laughter and laughed openly at the memory. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but the laugh lines around his eyes seemed deeper than usual.

Ah, that's right. His sturdy build and large, upturned eyes were striking, and he looked a bit intimidating when he was silent. But this smile—I remember feeling so relieved by this smile that created laugh lines in an instant.

From that time on, we became the kind of people who exchanged greetings.

Before long, we reached the coffee that concluded the course, and for some reason, Mr. Yanagawa began to passionately lecture Azumi-chan on coffee trivia. Takatora-san, who was watching the scene with a look of exasperation, was touching his left ear again.

"Is touching your ear a habit of yours?"

The question, which had slipped out almost like a mutter to myself, apparently hadn't been loud enough. I spoke to Takatora-san, who was still watching Mr. Yanagawa's speech, in a slightly louder voice.

“Excuse me!!”

Perhaps because the alcohol had gone to my head, I couldn't control my volume well and ended up shouting loud enough that even the people at the next table turned to look at us, and the surrounding gazes rained down upon me.

“I... I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

As I hurriedly bowed my head, Mr. Takatora finally turned his face toward me.

“Sorry, were you saying something to me?”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize...”

“No, you probably got annoyed because I didn't notice you when you spoke to me a few times, right? I sometimes don't realize it when someone suddenly speaks to me from my left side.”

My voice hadn't gotten loud because I was feeling emotional. However, Mr. Takatora stopped me from apologizing and continued, pointing to his left ear.

“I was born deaf in this ear.”

At those words, I didn't know what the right thing to say was.

No, surely being normal is fine. When I talk about my leg, it's because I want people to know the circumstances—for example, that I run slower than the average person—and I just reveal it as a simple piece of information. Having apologies or words of sympathy returned is actually more of a hassle.

“Oh, I see.”

When I said just that, Mr. Takatora’s gaze turned back to Mr. Yanagawa.

After that, Mr. Takatora suddenly became cold, enough for even a dull person like me to notice. Surely, something about me must have displeased him. As a careless person, I often end up hurting or angering others without realizing it.

I couldn't muster the courage to speak to him again, so I calmly finished my wine until we left the shop. I glanced up at his profile from time to time, but his gaze remained averted.

—That is why I didn't want to know his name.

As I watched his back as we parted ways—he hadn't looked at me until the very end—I remembered the favorable look he had given me when we faced each other at the station, and I was struck by an indescribable sense of loneliness.

To be continued in Episode 4, 'Checking the Answers'

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