23. What, after all, is the meaning of life?
During dinner, Tsukimi Jingūji sat next to Saku Sakura Sakurakōji, while Yuko Jingūji was frequently interrupted by calls from her company. She would set her chopsticks down and move to the living room sofa, talking for more than ten minutes each time.
“Aunt Yuko works so hard,” Saku Sakura remarked as she watched Yuko’s silhouette in the living room.
“Mm.”
“My parents are the same. Both are devoted to their jobs. I know they want me to have a good life, but sometimes I wish they could spend more time with me.”
“We’ve gotten through all these years together, haven’t we? At this point, what’s the use of complaining? If you really feel guilty, just study hard.”
“Tsukimi, you’re so stiff. My brain isn’t as clever as yours, and I don’t have any grand dreams.”
“I don’t have dreams either,” the boy replied.
“Huh? Really? Then I suppose I’m more mature than you. I do have a dream.”
“What is it?”
“World champion. In sprinting,” she declared with conviction.
“Your skin’s not quite the right shade yet. Keep sunbathing.”
Saku Sakura feigned an attempt to twist his arm.
Tsukimi Jingūji immediately pleaded, “I’ll cheer for you secretly.”
“No, cheer for me out in the open!”
“Nice retort.”
The two tacitly ignored what had happened earlier in the bedroom, returning to their usual childhood friend routine.
It had always been clear: they lived with the label of “childhood friends” stamped on their foreheads. Otherwise, one careless step and they might stray from the path.
“Tsukimi, isn’t there anything you want to do?”
“Something I want to do?”
“You see, you’re so smart. You could be a doctor, a lawyer, maybe even a pilot. If you wanted, you could be anything.”
“Who am I, the protagonist of a light novel? Just keeping my childhood friend from resorting to violence takes all my effort.”
“Really, you’re being unserious again,” Saku Sakura pouted.
Tsukimi Jingūji gave a faint smile.
“Still, dreams… I’ve never thought that far ahead. For now, I’ll just aim for a good university, become a civil servant, and steal taxpayers’ money.”
“That’s awful.”
“No, no, most people would think I was joking just now.”
“I always take your words seriously, Tsukimi.”
The boy was lost for words.
“So, have you decided which university you want to apply to?”
“University? That’s sudden.”
“Well, we’ll be seniors next year, and you’ve always had your own ideas. I thought you might already have a school in mind.”
“And your grades are so good, you’ll definitely go to university instead of working right away.”
“I do plan to go to university.”
“So?”
“I’m not picky. My mom just told me not to apply to Tokyo University.”
“Huh? Why?”
“She said it’s hard to find someone to date.”
“What kind of logic is that?” Saku Sakura’s little head spun.
“Who knows.”
At that moment, Yuko Jingūji hurriedly grabbed her handbag in the living room and walked over to them.
“Tsukimi, Sakura, something urgent came up at work—I have to go in.”
“At this hour?” Tsukimi glanced at the clock. It was already seven in the evening.
“At least finish dinner before you go.”
“No, my team is already waiting. I’ll head out now.”
“It’s so late—will you make the last train home?”
“If not, I’ll have to spend the night at the office.”
“That sounds tough,” Saku Sakura said with concern.
“It’s all right, it’s all right. I’ll leave Sakura in your care, Tsukimi.”
“Okay, Aunt Yuko, be careful on the way.”
The sound of the front door closing echoed from the entrance, and the house fell silent.
“Adults really have it rough. I don’t want to grow up,” Saku Sakura sighed.
Tsukimi Jingūji glanced at his childhood friend. “World champions don’t commute by train.”
“You’re impossible.”
After dinner, Saku Sakura washed the dishes in the kitchen. Despite Tsukimi’s repeated insistence that he should do it, she eventually shooed him out.
Since tomorrow was Sunday and her own house was empty, she could stay as long as she liked.
Yet, after what had happened in the bedroom that evening, and now with Yuko Jingūji gone, leaving the house to just the two of them, the atmosphere felt quietly strange.
So when Saku Sakura spoke to him, Tsukimi Jingūji barely responded, absorbed in his book.
Even though he had read the novel countless times.
On the page, Watanabe was witnessing Naoko naked in the middle of the night.
In the living room, Tsukimi Jingūji stole glances at his childhood friend, afraid she might revert to her earlier state.
“Tsukimi.”
His hand holding the book trembled slightly, but he made a show of composure.
“What is it?”
“It’s getting late. I’ll head home now.”
He checked the time, surprised to find it was nine in the evening. The two childhood friends had sat in silence for two hours, exchanging not a word.
“It’s already that late?” he said.
“Mm, I’ll go then.”
He watched Saku Sakura’s figure disappear around the corner. After a moment, the sound of the front door closing came, and the boy let out a soft sigh.
Tsukimi Jingūji closed his eyes. In his mind appeared his childhood friend's face—sometimes from moments ago, sometimes from three years past.
Time doesn’t erase all unevenness; at best, it stitches together the fragments, so that from afar, they seem whole.
But up close, the twisted, spiderweb-like cracks are unavoidable, even if one resists.
Tsukimi Jingūji resisted, so he closed his eyes.
He stretched out his right hand, tracing the air.
Nothing appeared.
He remained silent for a while, his arm falling straight down, his head tilted back, neck exposed, mind adrift.
He murmured,
“What is life, really?”
…
…
Not long after Saku Sakura left, Tsukimi Jingūji stretched and rose from the sofa. He gazed at the empty living room, then toward the room with the household shrine, lost in thought.
He went upstairs to fetch his pajamas, preparing to shower and sleep.
Just then, the doorbell rang again. Tsukimi Jingūji could guess who it was. As he opened the door, he asked,
“Did you forget something?”
The energetic girl with a side ponytail scratched her head sheepishly, then quickly put her hands together, shrank her neck, and winked, trying to look cute.
“Tsukimi… I forgot my keys. Let me stay the night, okay?”