{Our Days Apart (1-2)}

“Hey, Yamaguchi, if you’re going to drink, I can keep you company?”

The girl sitting next to me tilted her head and peered into my face.

I thought she was cute, but I actually preferred girls who were a bit more plain.

This drinking party seemed to have started around 5 p.m., and by the time I arrived, everyone had already had a decent amount to drink, and the mood was getting lively. It felt like we were on the verge of a second party, so I kept my additional orders modest.

“No, I’m good,” I said ambiguously.

While I declined, I took my phone out of my pocket and quickly opened the messaging app to type a message.

“Hey, what’s that? Are you contacting someone?”

The girl next to me sounded a bit annoyed, but I mouthed an apology while continuing to send the message.

The recipient, of course, was Satou-san. As soon as I sent it, her phone rang, and I could see her peering at the screen while bowing her head repeatedly to those around her.

“I’m at the table next to you. Have you noticed I’ve been here for a while?”

That was the message I sent.

I figured she probably hadn’t noticed, and sure enough, her eyes widened as she stared at her phone.

In the next moment, she looked up as if startled and faced me.

Suddenly, that kind-hearted smile appeared on her face, and all the things I wanted to say to her—like how I hoped she’d notice before I had to say it, or that I found her pairing orange juice with yakitori a bit odd, or why she seemed to be having such a great time with the guy next to her—flew right out of my mind.

Finally realizing I was there, Satou-san glanced at the university crowd at my table, and her expression changed to one of shyness. Just as I found it hard to call out to her, she seemed hesitant to speak to me too.

After giving me a small wave, she awkwardly began typing.

As usual, Satou-san typed slowly, and it took about five minutes for her message to arrive.

When my phone chimed, the girl next to me seemed even more displeased.

“Oh, a notification. Who is it? Your girlfriend?”

She asked with a hint of sarcasm, and since I felt this was the perfect time to be honest, I replied.

“Yeah, it’s from my girlfriend.”

The message from Satou-san read:

“I didn’t notice at all! I’m surprised. Are you with your university friends?”

Her writing was much clearer than before, which made me smile naturally.

I quickly replied:

“Yeah. But I want to go home soon. What time are you finishing up?”

Satou-san’s phone chimed again.

She bowed repeatedly. Her coworkers seemed unconcerned, watching her with indifference, unaware that the message was coming from the table right next to theirs.

“I’m done here, so I’m going home.”

Looking over, I saw her table beginning to clear up.

The women at her table were quite capable, swiftly gathering plates, collecting glasses, and organizing the disposable chopsticks. In front of the neatly tidying table, Satou-san was desperately trying to finish her remaining orange juice.

In that case, I’d head home too.

I thought this and sent my reply.

“Want to walk home together? I can give you a ride.”

Before hearing back from her, I turned to the party organizer.

“Sorry, I think I’m going to head out soon.”

As I stood up, the cute girl next to me shrugged as if she already knew, and the organizer hurried over.

“Yamaguchi, are you leaving already? Aren’t you being a bit antisocial? I mean, I know it was bad to call you out after your part-time job, but we’re going to karaoke next—”

As the organizer clung to me, I apologized profusely just like when I arrived.

“Sorry. But I really can’t stay anymore.”

“Why not? Are you feeling sick?”

“It’s not that. My girlfriend is here at this place.”

When I turned around, I saw that Satou-san was about to leave, and she happened to be looking my way.

When I lightly waved at the smiling Satou-san, the organizer seemed to realize who “my girlfriend” was, and his face showed disbelief.

“That girl? Seriously? Isn’t she still in high school?”

His tone suggested he wanted to say that high school girls are just kids.

But we both knew that Satou-san, not too long ago, was indeed a high school student.

And I realized that being a college student and a high school student isn’t that different. The topics we discussed, the things we were interested in—they weren’t worlds apart. Maybe that’s not true for adults.

“That girl just happened to be my desk mate in high school.”

When I admitted it, the organizer looked at me in disbelief.

“I heard the rumors, but it turns out your taste in girls is really questionable.”

I’d been used to hearing that since high school.

“Hey, there’s no harm in not having any rivals¹.”

So I boldly shot back.

With a tired expression, the organizer collected the drinking party fee from me and sent me off with a “Good luck.”

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1. Translator thoughts : I mean why say it like that when just a while ago you were jealous of her co-worker? ↩︎