A Humble Life 2

"Hello." Perhaps because she had made eye contact with Irieda, the woman greeted him in a bright voice that didn't sound particularly happy.
"…Hi," Irieda muttered. The wrinkles around her eyes, visible between her mask and headscarf, were surprisingly deep. Irieda had thought of her as middle-aged, but he realized she might actually be around his grandmother's age. He then remembered that most of the residents around Quartier were elderly.
"The earthquake was scary, wasn't it?" Encouraged by Irieda's response, the woman spoke again, this time in a voice a pitch higher.
"Yeah," he replied vaguely.
"It really is frequent, isn't it? It makes me anxious every time it shakes. Come to think of it, were you on the phone just now?" She suddenly changed the subject.
"Huh? No, I wasn't."
"Oh? I felt like I heard you talking to someone..." Irieda stared blankly at the woman. He couldn't quite understand what she was saying. It sounded as if she were implying that a person named Amber didn't exist.
"I was talking to the woman who just left..."
"Huh? I didn't see anyone. Oh, I'm sorry. That was a strange thing to ask." Faced with an awkward situation, the woman could only come up with a reflexive response. She then resumed mopping. Irieda didn't try to ease the awkward atmosphere with any words either. The woman in the protective suit moved away, as if to put distance between herself and Irieda. Perhaps she thought Irieda was talking to himself because of some unknown illness. Although Irieda looked puzzled, he didn't pay much attention to it and headed for the back door. As soon as he stepped out, he checked the fields a short distance away. Amber was indeed there.
"Irieda?"
Irieda's focus had been fixed on the distant mountain peak. He was addressed from the opposite direction. When he turned around, there was a Black man sitting in a garden chair, folding his large frame. In his hand, he held a clear glass.
"Do you want a drink too?" the man continued. Irieda had known about him even before coming to this facility.
"Ah. I'll have a little." In truth, Irieda rarely drank alcohol. However, the drink in the hands of the Black man—Mateo—looked delicious.
"Is that so? I'll have a glass brought over right away." As Mateo said this, he pressed his right temple. He could have sent the message without that movement, but it was his routine. Soon after, a man in a protective suit brought a glass and a new bottle of liquor. It was sake.
"Fifty-One's liquor is good. I like it." Mateo poured the sake into Irieda's glass with a practiced air.
"I drink it every day. If you can just put up with the earthquakes, this place is heaven."
Mateo was in high spirits. In response, Irieda downed his drink immediately. It was a clean-tasting sake with a distinct acidity and bitterness. Before he had even finished, Mateo was preparing to pour a second glass.
"Come to think of it, what kind of person is your companion?" Mateo asked Irieda while tilting his own glass.
"Companion? ...Who are you talking about?"

Continued ➩A Humble Life 3