The Woman Who Reads, Episode 9: The Long Goodbye

Even though it was my final night at the shop, I was strangely in a good mood.
It wasn't that I didn't have any sentiment.
It's just that sentiment is useless in Ginza.
Things that are useless can be diluted with alcohol and laughter.
At least, until tonight.

The floor was strangely lively from the start.
That was because customers who had heard I was leaving had shown up a little earlier than usual.
Rather than lamenting the parting, they probably felt that by witnessing a night like this, they could become a part of something.
That's how men are.
"Mari-chan, are you really going?"

"I am."

"Why Nepal, of all places?"

"Men in Nepal eat curry every day, don't they?"

"Yeah."

"So, I'm a little curious."

"About what?"

"...Does that also smell like curry?"

The table burst into laughter.
"Don't make me say it."

"What are you saying at this late stage?"
I shrugged my shoulders and lifted my glass.
"None of you are looking for refinement from me, right?"
I laughed it off casually.

On nights like this, it's better to be a little careless with your words.
If you try to part ways politely, the parting becomes a real goodbye.
If you laugh carelessly and act like you don't care, there's still some room left somewhere.

When the group seating settled down, that president was sitting at a seat near the counter.

I sat down next to him.
"It's noisy today, isn't it?"

"It's the day you're the star, after all."

"I'm not really the type to be a star."

"No, you actually don't dislike that kind of thing, do you?"

"I wonder."
I took a sip of water.

"Nepal, is it?"

"Yes."

“You’re really going.”

“I’m really going.”

The president held his glass and paused for a moment.
“I told you once before, didn’t I?”
I said nothing.
“That things you don’t like don’t last.”

Ah, I thought to myself.
That word, from that night.
“I remember.”

“Then let me ask you.”
The president looked at me.
“Is this something you ‘like’?”
He didn’t say Nepal.
He was pointing to a slightly more ambiguous place.

“...I wonder.”
I smiled a little.
“I don’t know if I like it or not.”

“That’s rare.”

“Yes.”
I traced the rim of my glass with my finger.
“I thought I had only ever chosen things I liked.”
A beat.
“But if you ask me if those things lasted, that’s a bit questionable.”
The president said nothing.
He was waiting.

“That’s why,”
I continued.
“It’s not about whether I like it or not.”
I searched for the words for a moment.
“I want to see if it will break.”
The moment I said it, the air changed slightly.

The president gave a small laugh.
“I see.”
It was neither a denial nor an affirmation.
“In that case, it might not last.”

“That’s fine.”
I answered immediately.
“Even if it doesn’t last,”
A beat.
“As long as it breaks properly.”

The president tilted his glass.
“You really are extreme, aren’t you?”

“Am I?”

“Yeah. But,”
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
“That’s more like you.”

I didn’t respond to that one comment.
The night was lively until the very end.
Flowers arrived.
Champagne was opened.
Photos were taken.
Someone cried a little, someone laughed, and I kept the mood bright until the end.
It felt less like a farewell night and more like the aftermath of a festival.

After closing, when I packed my things and left the shop, the night air felt a little lighter.
I didn’t look back.
There are some farewells that are better off without meaning.

On the day of my departure, Narita was strangely bright. An airport is a place always optimized for someone’s departure.
Things like farewells, expectations, and anxieties were all smoothed out as thinly as the wax on the floor.

I was sitting on a bench drinking canned coffee before going through boarding procedures.

It wasn’t that I was sleepy.

However, if I didn't drink something, I felt like my body would drift away somewhere far off first.

"Mari-san."

When I looked up, Rikako was standing there.
She was slightly out of breath.
She must have run here.

"...You really came."

"I said I would."
She smiled just a little.

"After all, you waited for me before."
The way she said it was strangely direct, and for a moment, I couldn't say anything.

In front of the Tokyo Detention House.

I had been waiting for Rikako to come out after finishing her visit with Fukuyama. I still remember the heaviness of the air that day.
That half-hearted winter afternoon, when it was too late to cry and too early to laugh.

"You're so conscientious."

"I'm the type who values things like that."

"Liar. You're the type who's much more reckless, aren't you?"

"That's true, but..."
Rikako sat down next to me. After a brief silence, she said,
"You were there for my fresh start, weren't you?"

I kept holding the can, not looking at her.
"So, I want to see it too."

"See what?"

"Your fresh start, Mari-san."

The way she said it made me feel a little embarrassed, so I laughed.
"It's nothing special."

"That's exactly the kind of thing you'd say, Mari-san."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're truly special, but you don't act like it."

"Is that an insult?"

"I'm paying you a compliment."

Rikako said that, peering into my face.
Her face looked a little stronger than before.
It was the face that had run through eighteen million yen that night.

She must have lost some things, too. But in exchange, she had developed a core.
Watching her, I learned that people can change in that way.

"You'll come back to Ginza, right?"
Rikako said.
The question sounded light, yet it was direct.

I thought for a moment.
Then, I smiled.
"That, I can't read."

Rikako smiled too.
"Mari-san, that's unfair."

"Unfair?"

"That way of answering is the most 'Mari-san' thing ever."

"Is it?"

"Yeah. Somehow, it makes me feel relieved."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you said you'd come back, it wouldn't feel quite right. And if you said you wouldn't, I wouldn't like that either."

"You're a handful, you know that?"

"Not as much as you, Mari-san."
We both laughed a little.

The announcement for boarding began. Airport time is different from Ginza time.
It doesn't pause. It doesn't wait for you.
When I stood up, Rikako stood up too.
"Well then, I'm off."

"Yes."

"Will you cry if I die?"

"Just a little."

"That's cold."

"But if you come back, I'll make sure you drink a ton."

"I don't like that."

"I'm lying. Only half of it."

"So half of it is true?"
She laughs again.

After that laugh faded, Rikako turned slightly serious.

"Mari-san."

"Hmm?"

"Please don't get caught up with any strange men over there."

I burst out laughing.

"Going all the way to Nepal, and you're worried about men?"

"No, I just feel like all the stoic men in the world might be gathering there, don't you think?"

"I wonder."

I said that, then paused for a moment.

"At the very least, they might be a little different from the men I know."

"See?"

Rikako laughs as if exasperated. I gripped the handle of my carry-on case. When I pushed, the wheels moved forward quietly. It felt a little like the sensation of pressing my fingers against a wall.

If you push, it moves forward.
There is no need for interpretation there.

"See you later."

"Yes. Have a safe trip."

I raised my hand and started walking toward the gate.
I didn't look back.
But I could clearly feel that someone was standing behind me.

And that was enough.