The Color of the Sky I saw that Day was also Blue

Chapter 15:
A Bud

After returning the car to the rental company in front of Miyako Station, Osakabe paid up and headed on foot to the small motorbike shop nearby.

Even he was not sure what came over him. At the shop, he bought a 100cc scooter and two helmets, then together with Honoka rode off towards the guest house.

Honoka’s full breasts pressed close against his back.

Everytime he sped up, she held on tighter with both arms wrapped around him.

When he lightly tapped on the brake, her chest pressed up against him even harder.

With every movement Honoka made, his heart beat even faster.

Honoka alighted from the passenger seat when they arrived at the guest house and adjusted her skirt.

“That’s another spur of the moment purchase,” she said. “You’ll only be in Iwate for another twenty days, right?”

“That was the plan,” Osakabe muttered with a sigh. “When I first got here, I was supposed to watch my spending as closely as possible. But now that’s a bust. I guess I can always sell it if I need to.”

The same as my apartment in Saitama, he added to himself.

When he quit his job and left Saitama, he had sold his old car and most of the valuables remaining in his apartment. Just as long as he canceled his rental agreement, he was free to change his address at any time. It wouldn’t be all that bad to just move to Iwate all of a sudden. He laughed at how completely enamored he was with the idea.

“Well, sometimes it’s good to waste a little money,” Honoka said as if realizing something. “The money you spent may come back to you one day, Osakabe-san.”

Then stretching, she added, “Thanks for these last two days. Let’s hang out again soon!” She headed back to the guest house.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

While waving her goodbye, he noticed an unexpected surge of excitement. “Again,” she had said, as if promising another meeting.

“Jeez. Really, what’s wrong with me?”

He returned to his room and spread out his journal over the table, where he immediately wrote out the events of the past two days. He certainly had not expected to open up to her about the painful feelings in his heart. For him, the subject of the bus accident should have been absolutely taboo.

At the same time, he also remembered the shock of Honoka already knowing about his circumstances. She said she got close to me, even after knowing my crimes. What on earth does a girl like that really want?

Was it sympathy towards a miserable man? Or rather, was it some fleeting love?

He preferred the latter, but he would have to be awfully full of himself to believe it. He shook his head and brushed off the all too tempting fantasy. That’s right—we must not fall for each other.

And yet, I’ve already fallen for her, haven’t I? The thought floated to his mind. He had already sworn off love. That was the reason why he had ended things with the woman in Saitama.

In spite of that, this girl, Shirakisawa Honoka, inspired feelings he had started to forget.

Once more he sighed and closed the journal. He closed his eyes and lay down.

In reality, he was exhausted both in body and spirit. He woke the next day at a later time than normal. When he looked at the clock, it was already past noon.

As if roused by the boiling heat, the noisy song of the cicadas echoed through the tatami room.

The life of a degenerate. He gave a wry smile as he changed into appropriate clothes and casually checked his appearance in the mirror before leaving the room.

Today he brought his camera along as if remembering its existence. When he went outside, he pointed his lens at the guest house and the surrounding buildings, which he had yet to take a single picture of. He had only a few shots remaining on his roll of film.

Unexpectedly, he had lost track of time. He had lunch at the guest house, then while taking pictures over and over, twilight had fallen over his surroundings. The color of the sky was orange streaked with indigo, and the afternoon song of the brown cicadas had given way to the cool trill of evening cicadas.1

Returning to his room after a light dinner, he collapsed on top of the tatami, and noticed that somehow the day felt incomplete.

Why? He wondered to himself.

He had taken plenty of good pictures today. Maybe nothing in particular stood out, but it should have been good enough for today.

He pondered for a moment before it dawned on him. Today, for the first time since he had come to Miyako, he had not once seen Shirakisawa Honoka.

Somehow it feels lonely to not be able to see her.

Give me a break. Osakabe shrugged his shoulders.

Perhaps that was why. After two whole days, his flustered heart craved the sight of her.

The day after that, he saw her sitting on the sofa by the entrance to the guest house and instantly felt at ease, as if his craving was sated once again.

“Osakabe-san. You’re up early again, today!”

She remained sitting, and turned to look towards him.

“I had a feeling I’d see you if I came down at this time.”

“Is that so?” She smiled. “If you’re free by any chance, do you want to go to the sea?”

“The sea? But we’ve been there a few times already.”

In a truly natural physical reaction, her face froze in a blank expression for a few seconds before she broke out in a cheerful laugh.

“No no. I was trying to tell ya, ‘Let’s go to the beach!’”

Her mouth curled into a grin, and nodded at the beach parasol she had set next to her.

“Oh, I see. Well, sadly I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

“Not a problem. I brought you one, too.”

She patted the bag next to her and gave him an impish smile. If she had prepared all that, then naturally he had no reason to decline.

“Wow, you really went to all that trouble? Then, since you insist.”

Upon hearing his words, she leapt to her feet. They left the guest house together, walking side by side, and headed towards the ocean.

The shrill song of the cicadas continued on, watching over their retreating figures.

The Japanese language is quite good at distinguishing between the various species of cicadas. The brown afternoon cicadas are aburazemi, while the evening ones are a species called higurashi, or sometimes kanakana, which is also how the author describes their cry here. Check out games like Animal Crossing: New Horizons to see if you can tell the difference between different cicadas’ songs!