章節 61: Memory & Trip
In a dimly lit room, the young man sat alone on a worn-out chair, the shadows playing across his face like a silent film. His existence, a solitary journey, lacked any companionship or support. From the very beginning, his parents had been neglectful, their indifference a constant presence from his earliest memories through his high school years. Even after he graduated and left their home, they didn't so much as glance back at him, as if he had ceased to exist in their world.
His life was an array of neglect and loneliness, punctuated by brief, flickering moments of connection that were all too quickly extinguished. In the sprawling city where he lived, his reputation — undeserved and unfortunate — preceded him. It cast a long shadow, one that made people wary and unwilling to offer him work or even a kind word. The businesses and establishments that lined the bustling streets had no place for someone like him.
As the years went by, his mental health deteriorated, an invisible wound that deepened with each passing day. Yet, the world around him remained blind to his suffering. From a young age, he had been left to fend for himself, navigating the complexities of life without guidance or support. The weight of his isolation was compounded by the loss of the one friend he had managed to make. That friend, too, had found life to be unbearably cruel, and had chosen to depart for the unknown, leaving the young man to grapple with the void of their absence.
The room, dimly lit and suffused with a sense of melancholy, seemed to echo his inner turmoil. In the stillness, he could almost hear the fragments of conversations that had never been, the laughter that had never filled his days, and the support that had always been just out of reach. His was a life marked by absence — of love, of friendship, of meaning — and as he sat there, he wondered if things would ever change, or if he was destined to remain a solitary figure in the backdrop of his own story.
When "that" moment arrived, it was the young man alone who bore the weight of the truth, the unvarnished reality of what had transpired. To the myriad of onlookers, those distant, detached observers, it appeared to be a mere accident — a misfortune born of drunkenness. But deep within the recesses of his own mind, the young man harbored the knowledge that it had been anything but an accident.
The so-called "accident" was meticulously orchestrated, a carefully constructed escape from the relentless cruelty of his existence. In the labyrinthine corridors of his thoughts, he had conceived this final act — a plan where his departure from the world would be shrouded in ambiguity. The convergence of a train, a state of inebriation, and the perception of a tragic misstep all aligned to create an image of seeming inevitability.
It played out exactly as he had envisioned, each detail falling into place with an almost poetic precision. The train, an unwitting accomplice in his design, bore down upon him as he stumbled, the alcohol clouding his senses just enough to lend credence to the illusion. To the outside world, it was a tragic end, a young man lost to a senseless accident. But within him, there was a cold, stark clarity — a knowing that this was the culmination of his carefully laid plans.
+-+
"Oh... you're up quite early, Yasushi. Why is that?" Yinhaie asked, her voice carrying a hint of surprise as she entered the dining room. The gentle hum of morning activities filled the air as she and a few staff members moved about, their presence a soft backdrop to the scene. Yasushi sat there, a cup of coffee cradled in his hands, his expression etched with a subtle tension.
Yasushi lifted his gaze from the floor, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, you know... I can't sleep too well after moving into a new place," he responded, his tone casual, almost dismissive. "Takes me about a week to get used to it before I can fall asleep fully," he added, his words a mixture of truth and evasion.
The explanation was plausible, even genuine to an extent, yet it didn't capture the entirety of his sleeplessness. Beneath the surface, Yasushi grappled with the remnants of a past life that clung to his consciousness like stubborn shadows. Dreams of memories he sought to erase played on an endless loop in his mind, an incessant reminder of what he longed to forget but could never completely banish.
Throughout the night, he had woken multiple times, each instance pulling him from the uneasy grasp of sleep. The dreams were vivid, unsettling, their fragments intertwining with reality in a way that left him disoriented and restless. By the third awakening, the prospect of returning to sleep seemed a futile endeavor. Resigned, he had chosen to greet the early hours with a cup of coffee, hoping the ritual might offer some semblance of solace.
Yinhaie, sensing the palpable tension emanating from Yasushi, walked over to him with a determined air. She positioned herself behind him, her movements deliberate yet gentle. With a firmness that belied her petite stature, she began to knead the tight muscles in his shoulders. The disparity in their heights made the situation a bit awkward, and Yasushi, noticing her struggle, crouched down slightly. This adjustment caused Yinhaie to laugh, a light, musical sound that cut through the morning stillness.
"Thank you. Your shoulders are stiff, you need to relax more. I notice that you're always on edge, why is that?" Yinhaie asked, her voice sweet and concerned, as she continued to work on his tense muscles.
Yasushi let out a soft sigh, his shoulders loosening slightly under her skilled hands. "Life is a battle, and I'm the ground that gets pounded daily..." he began, then paused, realizing the oddness of his metaphor. "Pause, that sounds weird," he added, shaking his head with a wry smile.
Yinhaie giggled at his comment, her laughter a soothing balm against the weight of his words. She continued to massage him, her hands moving with a practiced rhythm. The room, filled with the quiet sounds of morning, seemed to hold its breath, creating a cocoon of intimacy around them. However, this serene moment was interrupted as Jingliu entered the room. Her disheveled appearance and irritated expression immediately caught Yinhaie's attention.
Jingliu, her eyes half-lidded with sleep yet sharp with curiosity, raised an eyebrow at the sight before her. The silent question in her gaze was unmistakable: What exactly are you two doing? Yinhaie, feeling slightly self-conscious under Jingliu's scrutiny, let her hands fall away from Yasushi's shoulders. She stepped back, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she tried to suppress a smile. Yasushi, for his part, merely shrugged, an amused glint in his eyes as he turned to face the new arrival.
Attempting to steer the conversation in a new direction, Yasushi ventured, "So, where are we planning to go? The weather's turning colder now, and with the snow coming down, going anywhere will be a bit of a challenge. But there are still some indoor places we could consider."
Yinhaie took a step back and offered a warm smile to both Jingliu and Yasushi. Jingliu, still fighting off the remnants of sleep, had moved closer to Yasushi and now leaned against him slightly, her weariness apparent in her every movement.
"Yasushi might be familiar with this place," Yinhaie began, her tone carrying a hint of excitement. "There's a small outdoor spot where you can pick snow melons, a specialty of Ginsukimura. Besides the snow melons, the place is known for its variety of vegetables and fruits native to this city," she explained, her eyes shifting to Yasushi for his reaction.
Yasushi's eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise. "Oh... the Yukaisuen? How did you manage to get us in there? That place is usually booked solid all year round," he asked, clearly impressed.
"Yukaisuen?" Jingliu repeated, her confusion evident as she glanced up at Yasushi, the unfamiliar name hanging in the air between them.
Yasushi nodded thoughtfully, allowing a small, knowing smile to cross his lips. "Yukaisuen — it's a combination of words, really. The full name is 'Yuki no Kajitsuen,' which translates to 'Snow Orchard.' I heard from Furuya, who visited once, that the owner has an inclination for giving quirky names to things, even his pets. But yes, it's as Yinhaie said — they sell those unique 'snow-melons' there."
Jingliu, still fighting the pull of her lingering fatigue, nodded along. "Is there even a difference between these snow-melons and regular ones?" she asked, her voice tinged with drowsiness and genuine curiosity.
"Tasting is believing," Yasushi replied with a gentle chuckle. "No matter how I describe it, you might find it hard to believe. But to give you an idea, these snow-melons taste distinctly colder and sweeter than the usual melons. And there's something peculiar about them — the seeds aren't inside but are positioned on both ends of the melon," he explained, his tone infused with a mix of wonder and casual familiarity.
Jingliu considered his words, her tired eyes lighting up with a flicker of interest. "Hmm... I guess I'll look forward to it then," she replied, a hint of anticipation in her voice. Both Yinhaie and Yasushi knew well her fondness for sweet things, a fact that brought a shared, almost conspiratorial smile to their faces.
+-+
"Are you two ready? The entire facility is reserved exclusively for us today. From this day forward, we have the privilege of visiting it at any time of the day and can join any other group that has booked it as well," Yinhaie announced, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Yasushi knows all the details about how it works, so if you need a more thorough explanation, you should ask him, Lady Jingliu."
Jingliu nodded, a small smile playing on her lips as she settled comfortably beside Yasushi. "Alright, I'll do that," she replied, her voice carrying a note of anticipation. They had just entered the car, and Yinhaie was preparing to whisk them off to the renowned facility where they would experience the famed snow-melons of Yukaisuen.
As the car began to move, Yasushi leaned back, his thoughts drifting to the tales he had heard. "According to Furuya, it's much more extravagant than it appears from the outside. So prepare yourself for quite the experience," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. Jingliu, feeling a mixture of excitement and curiosity, hugged his arm and nestled closer to him, her warmth a comforting presence. Yasushi couldn't help but chuckle at her affectionate gesture.
"Alright then, let's go!" exclaimed Yinhaie, her own excitement palpable. The older woman's enthusiasm was infectious, setting the tone for their short-day trip to the facility. The anticipation of what lay ahead — the promise of the snow-melons, the allure of the Snow Orchard — created a sense of adventure that hung in the air like a delicate fragrance.
創作者的想法 
Haruki_Murakami
Haruki_Murakami "We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children." -Native American proverb
Meaning: This proverb emphasizes the importance of environmental stewardship and responsibility, reminding us to take care of the Earth for the sake of future generations.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票