2.2

Come to think of it, it was all because of that one paperback that I was now standing in front of the station at 11 AM on a Sunday - you really don’t know how things will play out in this world.

Just like a reed boat that could not go against strong currents, I was unable to reject her invitation, or to be exact,

I was unable to find the right timing to reject her - and as such, I now stood at our meeting point.

I would’ve been glad to renege on our agreement, but I spotted her in the distance, looking a little troubled, like she was going to ask for help or directions if anyone showed her weakness. Unlike me however, she would carve out her own path to break the ice - it would be no exaggeration to call her a reed boat that went against the flow.

I had arrived in front of the monument that marked our meeting point five minutes before the agreed time, and was waiting in a daze when she appeared right on time.

It was the first time since our chance meeting at the hospital that I saw her wearing casual clothes - simple items like a T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

She walked over with a smile and in response, I lightly raised my hand.

“Good morning! I was thinking about what to do if you went back on our promise!”

“I’d be lying if I said that was impossible.”

“But wasn’t the end result ol’ right?”

“I get the feeling that your word usage is a little off. With that said, what are we doing today?”

“Oh, well aren’t you getting fired up.”

She stared at me with a strong gaze before breaking into a smile, looking as if she had always been smiling. Incidentally, I wasn’t the least bit fired up.

“For now, let’s just go to the city.”

“But I don’t really like crowds.”

“Secret-Knowing-Classmate-kun, did you bring the train fare? Could you take it out?”

“I brought it.”

In the end, I simply gave in, and we headed to the city just as she had proposed. Just as I had feared, the huge station where various shops were clustered was fraught with thronging, cacophonous crowds. The mere sight made me shudder with apprehension.

As for the girl beside me, she didn’t look the least bit daunted by the large crowd. Was this person really going to

die soon? Although such doubts did arise, since she had already shown me various official documents, there was no

room for suspicion.

After passing through the ticket gate, she continued onwards, cutting a path through the unremitting waves of

people. Somehow managing to keep her within my sights, we made our way to the underground passageway where the

crowd dispersed a little. Only then did she finally disclose to me our objective for the day.

“First off is yakiniku!”

“Yakiniku? But it’s still morning you know?”

“Will the taste of the meat be any different in the afternoon and at night?”

“It’s unfortunate, but rather than there being a difference, I just don’t crave for meat all day.”

“Then there’s no problem. I want to have some yakiniku.”

“But I just had my breakfast at 10 AM.”

“It’s fine, since people that hate yakiniku don’t exist.”

“Are you even paying attention to our conversation?”

It didn’t seem like it.

My protests fell on deaf ears and the next thing I knew,

I was seated opposite her in front of a genuine charcoal stove. I really did follow her like a reed boat. The dim store wasn’t really crowded, and the individual lights shining on each table made it unnecessarily easy to see each other’s faces.

In no time at all, a young waiter had kneeled down at the side of the table and started to take our order. While I

was taken aback, as if it was proof of her mastery of mathematics, she smoothly responded to the waiter.

“This most expensive one.”

“Wait a minute, I didn’t bring that much money.”

“It’s fine, since I’m paying. Two of the most expensive all-you-can-eat courses, please. As for the drinks, you’re fine with oolong tea, right?”

I went along with the momentum and nodded while she continued on like she was at home; the young waiter quickly repeated the order and left.

“Waaah, I can’t wait!”

“……Erm, I’ll make sure to pay you back for today.”

“I told you it’s fine, don’t mind it. I’m paying. Up until before, I was working too, so I have money saved up and it wouldn’t do to not use it.”

Before she died - though she didn’t say it, she must have meant something like that.

“That’s even worse. You should spend it on something with more meaning.”

“But there’s meaning in this - it wouldn’t be fun to eat yakiniku alone, right? I’m just spending money for my own enjoyment.”

“But you see-”

“Sorry for the wait. Here are the drinks.”

While I was starting my next retort, with exquisite timing, the waiter appeared carrying two glasses of oolong tea on a tray. It felt like she had summoned the waiter to end our talk about money. She giggled as a grin spread over her face.

The assorted meat platter followed the drinks a little while later. The beautifully arranged meat, frankly speaking, looked extremely tantalising. It must have been because of the so-called marbling. The pattern of the fat stood out vividly, and the meat looked like it would’ve tasted just as good raw, though the very thought would probably have been repulsive to many.

Once the cooking grate mounted on top of the charcoal stove seemed sufficiently hot, she snatched a slice of meat

between her chopsticks and hastily laid it on the grill. The strip of meat began to sizzle as it fell on the scorching metal, giving off the signature, mouth-watering aroma of cooking meat - my stomach could but begin to growl in response.

Since growing high school students couldn’t control their appetites, I started to cook the meat together with her. On top of the hot stove, the meat was cooked in no time.

“Thanks for the meal. Mmph!"

“Thank you for the meal. Hmm, well, it’s pretty tasty huh.”

“What, only that level of excitement? Isn’t it super-duper tasty? Or do you think I’m just more sentimental because I’m going to die soon?”

No, the meat tasted exceptionally delicious. There was simply a gap in our tension levels.

“This is great. I wonder if the rich only eat food this tasty.”

“The rich don’t come to all-you-can-eat buffets, probably.”

“I see - but it’s a waste for such good meat to be included in buffets.”

“Everything is an all-you-can-eat buffet for the rich though.”

Even though our stomachs shouldn’t have had that much space, the two portions of assorted meat quickly disappeared. She took the menu at the edge of the table and started scrutinising the add-one.

“Is anything fine?”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

I’ll leave it to you - I found that such a phrase fit me rather well.

She wordlessly raised her hand, and having spotted her signal from somewhere, the waiter promptly arrived at our table. She casted a reprehensive glance at me for flinching at the waiter’s dedication, and proceeded to make orders from the menu sheet with unprecedented eloquence.

“Giara, kobukuro, teppou, hachinosu, mino, hatsu,nekutai, korikori, fuwa, senmai, shibire.”

“Wait wait wait, what are you ordering?”

It was awkward to stand in the way of the waiter’s work,

but she was spewing out words I wasn’t used to hearing, so I had to open my mouth.

“Kobukuro? Huh, they sell that band’s CDs?”

“What are you talking about? Ah, for now we’ll just have one serving of each.”

The waiter smiled in acknowledgment of her order and left hurriedly.

“Hachi? Did you just order bees? Insects can be eaten?”

“Ah, perhaps you don’t know? Kobukuro and hachinosu are the names of specific parts of a cow. Personally, I really like horumon!”

“You mean innards? Cows have parts with such interesting names?”

“Don’t humans have them too? Like the funny bone.”

“I don’t where it’s located though.”

“Incidentally, shibire is the pancreas.”

“Could it be that eating innards is a part of your treatment?”

“I could just keep on eating horumon forever. If someone asked me what my favourite food was, I’d reply with horumon. I love innards!”

“How am I supposed to respond to your enthusiasm?”

“I forgot to ask for white rice. You want some?”

“I don’t.”

After a little while, the many dishes of innards she had ordered arrived, arranged into a single set. The sight was

more grotesque than I had imagined, and as such, I lost some of my appetite.

She asked for some white rice from the waiter, and cheerfully started to arrange the horumon on the stove.

Since it couldn’t be helped, I assisted her too.

“Hey, this is done cooking!”

Unable to stand by and watch as I didn’t do anything when the appearance of the horumon changed, she grumpily stepped in and placed the perforated white thing on my plate. Since it was one of my principles not to play around or waste food, I cautiously brought it to my mouth.

“Isn’t it delicious?”

Truth be told, the texture was good, it was fragrant, and it tasted better than I had thought it would, but the feeling that I did something I shouldn’t have rose up from my stomach, and I tilted my head to the side in apprehension.

As always, she flashed a smile for some unknown reason.

I checked if she had any oolong tea left, then asked the waiter for another cup, as well as a little more of the normal meat.

I silently consumed the meat, and she, the horumon.

From time to time, I would eat the horumon, and she would smirk before glaring at me with an annoyed face. In such instances, she would eat the horumon she had so carefully cooked with an “aah!” and the dissatisfaction on her face would clear instantly.

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