The Fading Chalk Message,

Episode 2: The Perfect Half-Bill, the Overreaching Pride of the Crowded Cinema

“Grandma! Are you okay!?”

The door of the hospital room swung open, and Shun rushed in, panting heavily.

“My goodness, Shun. Rushing in like that—you’re as dramatic as ever.”

Toki, who was still dexterously knitting her white wool on the bed, laughed out loud with amusement.

“Geez, I worried for nothing. You look incredibly energetic.”

Shun let out a sigh of relief, slumped onto a folding chair, and gave Mio a sloppy smile.

“Mio, thanks for coming ahead of me. You really saved me.”

“No, not at all! Grandma was telling me some fascinating stories, so I wasn't bored even for a second. Hey Shun, we were actually just talking about how we handle money on our dates.”

As Mio giggled and waved her smartphone, Shun tilted his head in confusion.

“Money? You mean splitting the bill? We just tap our phones, and it instantly splits the bill in half without a single yen of error. That's the smartest way, and it's easy since neither of us has to worry about feeling obligated.”

“Hehe, that's right, Shun. I was so surprised when Mio told me. You don't even carry wallets anymore—young people today are truly smart.”

Toki paused her knitting needles for a moment, narrowing her eyes nostalgically as she looked at the couple.

Displayed on the screen of Shun's smartphone was a faded monochrome photo.

In it, a young Toki and Shigeru were smiling, shyly standing shoulder to shoulder.

Even though it was supposed to be a faded, colorless world, from between their happy smiles, a warm vestige of love gently rose, transcending a hundred years of time.

“But you know, your grandfather, Shigeru—he was incredibly vain and so clumsy.”

“I think it was the autumn of 1956. Back then, the absolute best date for young people was going to the cinema, ‘Aomori Toei,’ right in front of the station. Shigeru, wanting so badly to make me happy, apparently struggled to scrape money together days in advance, wore a brand-new wool jacket of deep navy blue, and escorted me with his face blushing bright red.”

Deep within Toki's eyes, the monochrome "Aomori Toei" was repainted with the glaringly colorful billboards of Yujiro Ishihara and the vibrant heat of the bustling crowd.

“But the theater was packed to the brim. Far from getting a seat, we were squeezed in like sardines against the hallway wall! Shigeru went pale with frustration, and I was complaining, which led to a huge fight. But you know, once the movie started and the lights went down, our shoulders suddenly brushed against each other in that tight space...”

Toki gently pulled a single stitch of the white yarn tight. Her hands gently projected the memory of the body warmth they once shared onto the cold white walls of the hospital room.

“That shoulder was surprisingly warm. On the way home, at a modern cafe called ‘Wiener’ in front of the station, Shigeru shyly treated me to a cup of coffee. Lit by the sepia glow of the orange lamps, that deep black, warm coffee was unlike any other I've had before or since.”

The melodies of jazz gently filled the hospital room.

Shun and Mio looked at each other, slipped the frictionless glass of their smartphones into their pockets, and gently overlapped their fingertips as if confirming the warmth of each other's palms.

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