Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/2912051600327232539
In physics, the most pointless movement is returning to one’s original location.
Moving from point A to point B, then back to point A. No matter how far you travel, the displacement is zero. No matter how many kilocalories you burn, it amounts to doing nothing.
People call it a round trip and try to give it meaning, but structurally, it’s nothing more than a colossal waste of energy.
It was a little earlier than usual in the evening at the park. Sitting on my usual bench, I was pondering this thermodynamic futility.
The reason I’m here is clear. The notice I received the other day—“Don’t ever come back”—was strictly a ban on her coming here; it doesn’t restrict my own access.
My struggle with a can of corn chowder here, as usual, is a legitimate right that doesn’t conflict with the law in any way.
It was a time spent not hoping or waiting for anyone to appear, but simply reminiscing about the brief days I’d spent with her.
“…Haa, haa, haa.”
Breaking the silence, clumsy footsteps approached.
Emerging from the shadows was a figure like a walking light pollution. A dress layered with ruffles. Sequins reflected the streetlight’s glow pointlessly. At her feet, a single pair of stockings hung in tatters.
“……”
“……”
We stared at each other, at a loss for words.
“I thought a chandelier had fallen into the park in the middle of the night. The light reflects way too much. It’s amazing how stage costumes can shine this brightly even in such darkness.”
“…Minato.”
The moment Shizuku recognized me, she slumped down beside the bench as if a string had snapped.
“Is that dress with all that unnecessary fabric a parachute or something, designed to maximize air resistance? Did you jump down from the dome roof or something?”
“It’s not a parachute… It’s a costume. An idol’s costume.”
“It’s completely non-functional. If you’re marching under the cold night sky, you should be wearing a Workman breathable waterproof jacket.”
“I didn’t have time to go to Workman…!”
Shizuku scrunched up her face and began to shed big tears.
“Why are you here, Minato? you tell me… not to come!”
“I only said, ‘Shizuku, don’t come.’ That doesn’t mean I can’t come here. I’m here to protect my standard of living—”
“You idiot!”
Shizuku crawled toward me and clutched the hem of my hoodie with both hands as hard as she could.
“I glitched! I threw an error and froze right in front of the audience!”
“That’s a serious system failure. Did you try rebooting?”
“I tried! But I just couldn’t remember the reboot password… and that password was only stored here! No matter how much they waved their flashlights, with that light, I couldn’t tell which runway to land on!”
Shizuku pressed her face against my hoodie and let out a sob.
“I’m not some fancy 30,000-yen umbrella. I’m not public property either. I’m just a lost child who was about to suffocate inside the ‘Hoshino Shizuku’ package that someone, somewhere, made.”
“……”
“Hey, Minato. I can’t breathe anywhere but here. I don’t care if I never drink organic herbal tea for the rest of my life—I’d rather have a chunk of cocoa and sugar than that grasshopper feed.”
A fierce, grinding strength tightened in the hand gripping her hoodie.
I stood up without a word. The hem of my shirt was yanked hard, but I shook it off lightly and walked over to the vending machine.
I dropped a hundred-yen coin in and pressed the button for the “Warm” section.
There was a dull clunk, and a small can fell out.
I returned to the bench and pressed the hot can against Shizuku’s trembling cheek.
“Hyaa!?”
“Sugar.”
“…It’s warm.”
Shizuku wrapped both hands around the can and popped the tab with a hiss. She took a sip and exhaled a puff of white breath.
“…It’s sweet.”
“It’s just right, isn’t it?”
“Hehe… yeah. This is exactly what I needed. Hey, Minato, I might not be able to be an idol anymore. I just threw it all away.”
“I see. If you get a bill for hundreds of millions of yen in liquidated damages, you should at least fold a thousand paper cranes and include them with the payment. Maybe they’ll appreciate Japan’s traditional spirit and reduce it by the amount of the consumption tax.”
“They won’t… you idiot.”
Shizuku chuckled softly and pressed her tear-stained face gently against my shoulder. As always, her sense of personal space is completely off.
I hurriedly scanned the area. But there wasn’t a single person or car in sight. It looks like Shizuku’s wild behavior today won’t come to light.
“Hey, treat me to this again tomorrow, right here.”
“I’m not your wallet, Shizuku.”
“You cheapskate. I’ll give Minato all the money I earn, so treat me for the rest of my life.”
“You haven’t even made that much yet.”
“I know… It’d be silly to give up now, wouldn’t it?”
“It’s not just silly—it’s stupid.”
“Ah! You said it!?”
“So, let’s think about it.”
“About what?”
“A way to keep breathing and keep being an idol at the same time.”
When I said that, Shizuku’s face lit up.
“Yeah! Let’s do it! I’ll think about it!”
A park at 2:30 in the morning. A broken streetlight. A 100-yen cup of cocoa that was way too sweet.
After a long detour and a futile physics experiment, the walking parachute made an emergency landing right next to me.
Only the light from the vending machine cast a stark glow on our unchanged front-row seats.
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