[Shirokuma Literature Club] March is

March was filled with farewell party plans.

Department transfers, people changing jobs.
I handed over bouquets, took photos, and saw them off with a smile.

"Thank you for your hard work."
"Please do your best over there, too."

Today it was that department, the next day the neighboring department. On the weekend, it was a business partner.
I repeated the same words almost every night.

Everyone left with a slightly embarrassed look on their face.
I waved at station ticket gates and taxi stands, waving until their backs disappeared from view. I don't know how many hundreds of times I've waved already.

Even in the latter half of March, the number of people to see off showed no signs of decreasing. I was even approached by people I had no direct connection with.
I couldn't refuse when they said, "It's the last time." I handed bouquets with a smile even to people whose names I couldn't recall.

After the farewell parties, the city felt quiet. Every time I took the last train, I felt like there were more empty seats in the carriage than the day before.

The office also began to show noticeable empty seats. One desk after another became vacant, and cardboard boxes piled up.
But the work didn't decrease. Everyone said that those who remained had no choice but to do it. The atmosphere in the company was visibly exhausted.

On March 31st, the final farewell party ended.
As the person in charge of organizing, I saw everyone off as they left the restaurant. Their drunken backs melted into the night.

I stood there until no one was left.

＊

April 1st.
When I tried to go to work as usual, there was no one at the station.

The ticket gates were left open, and the electronic bulletin board was lit up. Yet, there was no one on the platform. No trains came either. Only sounds echoed from somewhere.

I had no choice but to walk to the company.
When I finally arrived at the company, there was no one there either. The lights were on in the department. But there were only desks on the floor. Documents, personal belongings, and of course, people had vanished.

The phone didn't ring. No emails arrived.
Even when noon came, no one arrived.

It was the same when I went outside. Shops were open. Traffic lights changed. But there was no sign of people. Only the wind blew through the deserted streets.

I remembered the people I had seen off in March.
Their faces no longer came to mind. The backs that left with a smile. The people who didn't look back.

That it was me who had been sent off.
By the time I finally understood, March had long since ended.

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