Let's Remain Together

 

─"Let's Remain together."

 

Alternative Name : 一緒にいようよ

Author: Nekoja Geneko

Plot: ─She used to express her desire to become an adult as quickly as possible.

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Lets Remain Together 

 In my past, I used to express the desire to become an adult quickly. On a summer afternoon, as the sun cast a hazy heat, I was walking home after meeting a friend, and memories of bygone days flooded my mind. I wondered how I must have reacted upon seeing the sparkle in her eyes, eager to grow up. The cicadas' buzzing and the wind's rustling filled the air as I looked ahead. The route home was so familiar that it usually felt automatic, yet somehow I found myself on an unfamiliar path, drenched in sweat, even soaking my straw hat.

Unconsciously, I had taken a wrong turn, guided by some unknown emotions. I didn't want to go home in that state, feeling disconnected from reality. The desire to escape the present moment led me astray. That encounter with my friend must have had a profound impact, as even a brief conversation about our shared memories transported me back in time.

For the first time in a while, I recalled the innocent yearnings of my childhood—I never wanted to grow up or become an adult. I wished to remain a child, regardless of how embarrassing, difficult, or shameful it might be. The undeniable truth was that I would have chosen not to grow up even if it meant facing the consequences.

It has been quite some time since I entered adulthood. Instead of actively embracing adulthood, it feels more like I just aged gradually over time. Despite this, I don't sense any significant growth in my heart, but when I look in the mirror, I see a fully grown adult. There is no mistaking me for a child.

But being an adult seems straightforward. Suddenly, I felt as though I heard a familiar voice and came to a halt. The cicadas' sound ceased abruptly, leaving a quiet atmosphere as I noticed a woman standing with her back turned towards me. She wore a white dress and a wide-brimmed hat, and something about her appearance felt familiar. She resembled a friend, though it couldn't be her; it must be someone else who looks like her. With that thought in mind, I slowly turned around.

Just before our eyes met, a rush of memories flooded my mind. My brain worked in that direction, rejecting the current image and flashing scenes from years ago. It was a moment from the past when we were having tea at a familiar coffee shop. She had responded to my casual remarks by expressing the hardships of being a student, getting scolded by teachers for trivial matters, and realizing that the teachers were the ones acting foolishly. She had wished to find happiness as an adult and smiled brightly, dressed in a white dress.

In that instant, I noticed she was wearing the same dress as back then, and the next moment, she was right there in front of me. The stranger vanished, and I was sure I had drifted through time while I was lost in thought. Yet, perhaps I could call it a lingering memory. I paused for a moment and reflected on that day. Although I couldn't recall exactly what I had said to her, I was certain it wasn't anything too terrible.

Two contrasting perspectives: one longing to remain young while the other eagerly anticipated adulthood. Yet, despite these differences, we both shared the enjoyment of meeting and conversing together.

Lost in nostalgia for a moment, I observed my surroundings—no sound of cicadas. Although the roads ahead and behind seemed familiar, I knew they weren't the way back. Uncertain of the correct path, I decided retracing my steps was a wiser choice, as going forward would lead me astray.

During my walk, my thoughts wandered once more. Upon reaching home, reality resumed—a monotonous cycle of days without much excitement, lacking color. The daily routine offered some pleasure, but overall, it felt empty. The prospect of people living the same way ten or twenty years from now filled me with unease. At times like this, I yearned to immerse myself in happy memories, much like I used to daydream about as a child.

I often found myself muttering, "I wish tomorrow wouldn't come." My friend mentioned that this particularly occurred during my student days, overwhelmed and exhausted. Whether it was due to disliking certain classes, upcoming tests, or troubling events, these thoughts persisted.

In any case, life is filled with numerous experiences. While there were enjoyable moments, they always seemed to end too quickly, leaving me yearning for time to freeze during those moments of excitement.

Curious about the upcoming summer break, I pondered the remaining days. Once again, it felt like I heard a familiar voice and glanced ahead. There, in the middle of the shimmering asphalt road, stood a woman with her back turned to me, wearing a school uniform resembling the one from my alma mater. Strangely, I felt a resemblance to my friend in her back view, though I knew it couldn't be her; it must be someone else who looks similar. Nevertheless, seeing her standing motionless triggered fond memories of my friend from high school.

I recalled a time during high school when I complained about having to participate in a class performance presentation after the final exams and before the closing ceremony. Her response to my complaints was etched in my mind: "Let's just get through it. More importantly, what are your plans for summer vacation?"

The memories of our lengthy conversations flooded back, and the feeling of us standing side by side in that moment seemed oddly nostalgic. The classroom we once shared is no longer there; the entire school building has been rebuilt due to aging. Feeling a mix of loneliness and nostalgia, I suddenly returned to reality, realizing the student had disappeared, and I was alone on the road.

I must have walked past without noticing, so I dusted myself off and continued on my way.

You should be able to return to your starting point if you continue on this path. I was certain of it, as I recalled that it wasn't an entirely unfamiliar road, although I wasn't completely accustomed to it. However, it seemed like an awfully long road. Despite walking, I felt like I wasn't making any progress in going back. Surprisingly, I remained calm and composed, not even breaking into a sweat or feeling unsteady. It was an odd sensation, but with that thought in mind, I pressed forward.

To be honest, I didn't want to go home. I dwelled on this idea. Even if I refused to go home, time would keep moving forward, and tomorrow and the day after tomorrow would come. I knew it would be much easier to head straight home and follow the natural flow of time. Yet, I couldn't help but ponder on it. I didn't want to go back; I recalled having that thought countless times as a child. Whether it was a day at the amusement park, the pool, the movies, or spending time at a friend's house, every day I whispered my desire not to return home. I longed to encapsulate myself in the happiness of those memories. It may have been a childish wish, but even now, sometimes that longing resurfaces.

"Then you should go home," I heard voices again. Looking ahead, I spotted a young girl, around seven or eight years old, standing in front of a green fence at the road's end. I could only see her from behind, but there was a sense of nostalgia. The way she stood still, her long hair swaying in the wind, reminded me of my friend from the past. At that moment, I glanced up at the sky, taken aback by the sudden realization.

In the late afternoon, I reunited with my friend, and I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed since our last meeting. The sky had darkened, beautifully painted with the colors of the sunset.

Feeling stunned, I glanced back at the girl, and this time, I managed to meet her gaze without being overwhelmed by memories. Strangely, something peculiar occurred—the fence behind the girl seemed to distort, creating a black hole.

As if sensing my fatigue, the girl extended her hand and suggested, "Hey, let's go together." I found myself involuntarily drawing nearer to her, almost within reach of her outstretched hand. However, I hesitated and pulled back just before grasping it. The girl continued to gaze at me, her face an exact replica of my friend's face from memories and photographs. As I looked at her, a voice from the past echoed in my mind.

"Why?" It was my voice, no one else's. I recalled uttering this question about half a year ago while tearfully alone in my room.

"Let's stay together," a phrase echoed in my mind, but before I could be lost in memories, a girl embraced me. Before my eyes, her figure seemed to distort, gradually transforming into that of a high school student, and then an adult. She wore a white dress and a wide-brimmed hat, and she addressed me, perplexed by the resemblance to my friend.

"Hey, you don't want to go home, do you? You don't want tomorrow to come, do you? You didn't want to grow up, did you?" She shook me as she spoke.

She was right—I had never desired to grow up. In that moment, I wondered if I should stay with her, if this could be where I belonged. My mind swirled with various thoughts. Would it be easier if I followed her?

Just as my thoughts were about to come to a halt, my legs moved on their own. Memories of the past resurfaced, and I recalled the words, "I don't want to die." The voice belonged to none other than my friend, lying in a hospital bed, sobbing. I had tried to comfort her, but no words of solace could leave my lips.

In that instance, her image merged with the girl before me now. Tears streamed down my cheeks—tears, not sweat. Unaware, I found myself crying and uttering the words, "I do not want to die." As I realized what I had said, I couldn't remain composed. Collapsing in tears, the girl, who bore a striking resemblance to my friend, looked down at me.

She gazed at me, motionless, and spoke calmly, without any expression, saying, "Yes, I understand." After that, she vanished.

When I raised my eyes once more, I found myself on a familiar street. The sun had already set, but it wasn't the path I had been lost on. I had returned to where I used to be. As I looked around, I realized I was at the cemetery, the place where I had visited my friend. After contemplating the 

entrance for a while, I decided to head home once more.

This time, I didn't hesitate anymore.

The End