Sakura Dream
Breathing out one deep sigh, E slowly closed the literature magazine that he had been reading while standing. "Just as I thought... it's no good is it?" He returned that which he had been holding to the magazine corner a little unevenly, and laughed derisively at himself when he noticed that he had subconsciously spoken aloud. Then he turned and left the bookstore in front of the station.
E had moved to Tokyo with the hopes of becoming a fiction writer, and although he wrote and wrote, nothing ever came of it. He took years and years as though there was no other way, and before he knew it he was already greeting his 35th birthday. And slow determination was drawing near. While caught between feelings of loneliness and impatience, he wielded his pen while relying only on his baseless self-confidence. To give up and go back home would be to get scolded from his parents, and even the friends who were helping him in the beginning, one by one each of them decided to focus on their own lives, getting married and starting families. And now, he couldn't even so much as contact them. However, if he thought about it calmly even that was a matter of course. Although he saw them socially, they were such unproductive people like himself and when he knew how that kind of existence could be forgotten, he was swallowed by an indescribable wave of anxiety. His will that was as brittle as a castle made of sand began crumbling down, and he couldn't even muster up the image of his works. Nevertheless, he couldn't apply his determination, but somehow or other E managed to cheer himself up. "This will be the last... If I'm omitted from the selection this time I'll stop writing..."
Deciding thus in his heart, he had gotten to work and entrusted himself to a ray of hope in the very last moment so that he could finish up the work he was writing on with all his might. But even the results of his great effort piled up in vain, and when the time had come, he let them all vanish in an instant with a sigh.
After leaving the shop, E wasn't quite in the mood to return to his room as he was. He was walking along the river without any particular destination, when something grazed his cheek. While he put his palm up to his face he casually looked up, to where a proud sakura tree, boasting flowers in full bloom, was illuminated by the moon and shining.
"Ahh... in a place like this..."
E usually had the quirk of hanging his head as he walked, so that was the first time he noticed the sakura trees growing along the roadside. He thought that the flower petals, dancing beautifully as they were blowing in the wind, were very unmatched to himself now, and he felt like he wanted to burst into tears after so long. Fighting tears that seemed like they would spill forth at any time, E gazed at the sakura flowers, but accidentally let his line of sight drop to where he could see a dim lamp. Attracted by the pale light, he moved closer to it. It was a shop sign that lit with an incandescent light, and looked like the paper lantern of a rural pub. 'A secondhand shop...? A book shop? At a time like this?'
The wristwatch on his left hand turned to 10 at night. Thinking it was puzzling but strangely intriguing, E timidly opened the glass-sided sliding door of the shop and entered the dim interior. It stank of a peculiar, slightly inky smell, and the feeling he got was that it was a second-hand bookstore smaller than any usual shop. E let his gaze wander in search of some sign of people, but as he didn't perceive any at all, the shop appeared unmanned. Tilting his head, he peered at the spines of books placed along a bookshelf, and his eyes stopped on a certain one.
"This..."
He took that book out with the index finger of his right hand. It was a book he had read many times as a child, and it was surely that book which had started E on his dream of becoming an author. Since he had read it so much that it became worn-out, his mother had involuntarily thrown it out along with some old magazines, and since it was such an important thing to him, he remembered crying to his mother in protest. While yearning after the incident from that time, he was flicking through the pages, and he spontaneously broke into a smile. Still, when he saw the end of the book, he unintentionally spoke out. "No way..."
There was a smudge so pale it couldn't be noticed with just one glance. It was a smudge in the same place as on the book that he had owned, he was certain, but... he didn't expect that this could be the same book. More than 20 years had already passed since then, and since that book was not sold then, but thrown away... If this was the book from that time, then something it would be written on the spine. Thinking such a thing, E slowly removed the cover of the book and reflexively caught his breath. "(My Dream) My future self, like the author of this book, will be an author who can move people deeply. Therefore, I'll read a lot to many people, so that my current self can show my dream to those people. Because in that case if people become happy, I'll also become happy. So, I'll keep going and not give up no matter what."
He followed the sentences, reflecting on them letter by letter, and couldn't stop the tears that suddenly overflowed from his eyes. That was unmistakeably the same clumsy determination he had written with 2B pencil when he was a child, when passionate thoughts that he had since forgotten gushed out all at once. He wiped his face in his cuff, and thought he would call out deep in the shop to someone who would sell him the book, but stopped. For some reason, he thought that he should do so.
After I returned the book to its spot on the shelf, I opened the door of the shop and closed it behind me. I lifted my head as I came out of the front of the shop, and it seemed that the sakura flowers from some time ago were now meekly beautiful. Thus, I was saved by myself, and now I turn back to my writing paper. I don't go to that strange bookstore, but I wonder if I won't turn my feet to that second-hand bookstore once again.
E had moved to Tokyo with the hopes of becoming a fiction writer, and although he wrote and wrote, nothing ever came of it. He took years and years as though there was no other way, and before he knew it he was already greeting his 35th birthday. And slow determination was drawing near. While caught between feelings of loneliness and impatience, he wielded his pen while relying only on his baseless self-confidence. To give up and go back home would be to get scolded from his parents, and even the friends who were helping him in the beginning, one by one each of them decided to focus on their own lives, getting married and starting families. And now, he couldn't even so much as contact them. However, if he thought about it calmly even that was a matter of course. Although he saw them socially, they were such unproductive people like himself and when he knew how that kind of existence could be forgotten, he was swallowed by an indescribable wave of anxiety. His will that was as brittle as a castle made of sand began crumbling down, and he couldn't even muster up the image of his works. Nevertheless, he couldn't apply his determination, but somehow or other E managed to cheer himself up. "This will be the last... If I'm omitted from the selection this time I'll stop writing..."
Deciding thus in his heart, he had gotten to work and entrusted himself to a ray of hope in the very last moment so that he could finish up the work he was writing on with all his might. But even the results of his great effort piled up in vain, and when the time had come, he let them all vanish in an instant with a sigh.
After leaving the shop, E wasn't quite in the mood to return to his room as he was. He was walking along the river without any particular destination, when something grazed his cheek. While he put his palm up to his face he casually looked up, to where a proud sakura tree, boasting flowers in full bloom, was illuminated by the moon and shining.
"Ahh... in a place like this..."
E usually had the quirk of hanging his head as he walked, so that was the first time he noticed the sakura trees growing along the roadside. He thought that the flower petals, dancing beautifully as they were blowing in the wind, were very unmatched to himself now, and he felt like he wanted to burst into tears after so long. Fighting tears that seemed like they would spill forth at any time, E gazed at the sakura flowers, but accidentally let his line of sight drop to where he could see a dim lamp. Attracted by the pale light, he moved closer to it. It was a shop sign that lit with an incandescent light, and looked like the paper lantern of a rural pub. 'A secondhand shop...? A book shop? At a time like this?'
The wristwatch on his left hand turned to 10 at night. Thinking it was puzzling but strangely intriguing, E timidly opened the glass-sided sliding door of the shop and entered the dim interior. It stank of a peculiar, slightly inky smell, and the feeling he got was that it was a second-hand bookstore smaller than any usual shop. E let his gaze wander in search of some sign of people, but as he didn't perceive any at all, the shop appeared unmanned. Tilting his head, he peered at the spines of books placed along a bookshelf, and his eyes stopped on a certain one.
"This..."
He took that book out with the index finger of his right hand. It was a book he had read many times as a child, and it was surely that book which had started E on his dream of becoming an author. Since he had read it so much that it became worn-out, his mother had involuntarily thrown it out along with some old magazines, and since it was such an important thing to him, he remembered crying to his mother in protest. While yearning after the incident from that time, he was flicking through the pages, and he spontaneously broke into a smile. Still, when he saw the end of the book, he unintentionally spoke out. "No way..."
There was a smudge so pale it couldn't be noticed with just one glance. It was a smudge in the same place as on the book that he had owned, he was certain, but... he didn't expect that this could be the same book. More than 20 years had already passed since then, and since that book was not sold then, but thrown away... If this was the book from that time, then something it would be written on the spine. Thinking such a thing, E slowly removed the cover of the book and reflexively caught his breath. "(My Dream) My future self, like the author of this book, will be an author who can move people deeply. Therefore, I'll read a lot to many people, so that my current self can show my dream to those people. Because in that case if people become happy, I'll also become happy. So, I'll keep going and not give up no matter what."
He followed the sentences, reflecting on them letter by letter, and couldn't stop the tears that suddenly overflowed from his eyes. That was unmistakeably the same clumsy determination he had written with 2B pencil when he was a child, when passionate thoughts that he had since forgotten gushed out all at once. He wiped his face in his cuff, and thought he would call out deep in the shop to someone who would sell him the book, but stopped. For some reason, he thought that he should do so.
After I returned the book to its spot on the shelf, I opened the door of the shop and closed it behind me. I lifted my head as I came out of the front of the shop, and it seemed that the sakura flowers from some time ago were now meekly beautiful. Thus, I was saved by myself, and now I turn back to my writing paper. I don't go to that strange bookstore, but I wonder if I won't turn my feet to that second-hand bookstore once again.
Notes: The point of view changes in the end, for some reason. It's really strange, isn't it? Make of it what you will.