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墨書 Inktalez
The howling outside seemed to have eased, finally allowing a moment of respite. The blizzard's roar gradually subsided, and the clouds that had obscured the sunlight began to disperse, bathing the room in warm light once more.
Sakuma sat there, lost in thought about how to begin his first letter. As the smoke from his burning cigarette floated to the surface of the water with a soft hiss, Sakuma finally picked up his pen. He gazed out at the fresh layer of white snow blanketing the ground, untouched and unblemished.
Just like the stationery on the table, which bore no ink marks and quietly awaited Sakuma's touch.
How should he start this conversation? Sakuma pondered, also addressing the figure of Wen Liang sleeping far away on the mountain.
"Yamada Fumiyoshi, my long-lost classmate, hello.
It has been many years since we last met. I wonder how you are doing now. It has been six years since high school, yet it seems my longing has not ceased.
Countless Decembers and Marches have cycled through my life since then. I hope that the person who promised me a ring has not responded to the feelings that stirred within me back then but instead transcended time and space to allow another person—a shadow of someone I yearn for—to respond with something hopeful. What an unpredictable twist of fate that is!
Fate has also brought me a near-identical person as a remnant of my longing, who has become my fiancé—what a play of destiny!
This letter may disturb you, but I felt compelled to write it and hope it reaches your hands. If fate truly allows us to communicate, I sincerely hope you will reply to this letter, as it would be the beginning of unraveling past entanglements.
Thank you very much.
Sakuma Fumio"
Having finished the letter, Sakuma lit another cigarette. At that moment, it felt as if he had shed some burdens. He looked around silently, reflecting on what he had written and unsure if it was appropriate.
Light poured into the room, illuminating Sakuma's desk where his black and slightly messy handwriting lay beneath his signature—evidence of hesitation in his strokes as if he had left something unsaid.
Following the sunlight streaming into the room was the medicine Keiko had brought, still sitting there but now half-used. Through Sakuma's slightly disheveled hair was a red oak cabinet; today’s sunlight fell upon it and traced over Wen Liang’s black-and-white photograph before landing near Sakuma's neatly arranged bedding. Glancing down at his feet by the sliding door, he noticed that the figure sitting in contemplation seemed to stir. He could hear him pacing back and forth, slippers shuffling softly across the floor as he moved away from the desk and settled beneath the cabinet to light another cigarette.
"Sakuma Wensheng..."
The door slowly creaked open, and a familiar scent of curry wafted through the gap into Sakuma's nostrils. Yet he remained seated beneath the cabinet, occasionally glancing at the portrait or outside where he spotted a few children playing nearby. Perhaps he was lost in thought or simply captivated by the scenery until he realized that his cigarette had burned down to his fingertips; only then did he notice Nishijo entering with lunch.
"Sorry, Mother-in-law," Sakuma quickly stood up but felt a hand pressing him back down.
"Sakuma Wensheng, there's no need to be so formal. Let's eat lunch first before thinking about anything else."
After a moment of footsteps, Sakuma pulled out a simple dining table and shared with his mother-in-law about the letter he had written.
"I’m not sure if it’s appropriate; I want to learn more about Yamada’s true self and hope for a reply."
Seeing the sincerity in his son-in-law's attitude, Nishijo did not continue to interrupt. He served two bowls of rice and simply nodded.
"If you truly wish to understand, I believe that if the other party is willing, you will know when the reply arrives, as the mailbox is right outside."
After a moment of surprise, Sakuma nodded in agreement.
"What my mother-in-law says is true. I think that regardless of how my teenage experiences were, there should be less blank space. If I can fill it in, then I am willing to give it a try."
Just then, the table was tapped twice with chopsticks.
"Don't forget the time later; you have a meeting with Nobu no Suke at four o'clock this afternoon. Make sure to prepare well."
Sakuma smiled, leisurely finishing his meal before heading into the kitchen. Soon, the sound of washing dishes could be heard.
Through the kitchen window, the snowplow arrived on the street right on time, its rumbling noise revealing a clear road outside Sakuma's car window. To save time, Sakuma quickly finished cleaning up the furniture, grabbed the letter he had written along with a few bottles of water, and got into his car, ready to find Nobu no Suke.
At this moment in Fukusho County, the snow on the streets was being ruthlessly cleared by the snowplow or melting away, restoring the usual hustle and bustle of traffic. During this afternoon period, the roads were still filled with honking horns, pedestrians crossing the street amidst noise, and the sound of the snowplow accompanied by a gentle breeze gradually fading behind Sakuma's speeding car.
Meanwhile, in a distant house in Daiban, the mysterious Yamada-kun had just crawled out of bed. He reached for the water bottle on his nightstand. This young programmer, named Yamada Bunryo, had been sneezing repeatedly for some unknown reason despite rarely catching colds. As a result, various cold medications filled an entire drawer of his nightstand. A loud sneeze abruptly ended this overworked programmer's sweet dreams, and he let out an impatient grunt.
The curtains were still drawn, and the door was closed. Only the faint glow of his laptop's logo flickered in the dim light. He glanced around at his surroundings: clothes hanging from a rack beside his nightstand, a pair of scattered slippers, and an ashtray piled high with cigarette butts. There were also strands of hair on the floor that were hard to see. With an irritated stomp of his foot onto one of his shoes, he opened the door and let in a beam of afternoon sunlight before heading to the bathroom.
Wenliang worked at a software company in Daiban. The house he currently lived in was a small nest he had just bought with his savings. Although it was only a meager 70 square meters, Wenliang had organized it neatly. As he finished washing his face and stepped out, his high school graduation photo hung visibly in his living room. He quickly made his way to the refrigerator where an unheated bento awaited him—his first meal on this day off—before he set about organizing new feedback to fix one of his projects.
Meanwhile, as Sakuma sped down Daiban's quiet streets towards Nobu no Suke's residence, he carried a personal motive: he wanted to see if Keiko was there too.
It seemed that after that misunderstanding in the car, Sakuma had been feeling uneasy ever since learning about it later. He wanted to talk to Keiko but hesitated to meet her alone; some barriers still lingered between them. Yet Sakuma vividly remembered that fleeting moment when he and his mother-in-law seemed to see that little girl who reminded them of someone from their past.
As Sakuma parked near Nobu no Suke's home, he spotted a familiar figure standing behind his car—it was indeed Nobu no Suke.
After exchanging simple pleasantries, Sakuma was pulled inside by Nobu no Suke. The aroma of beer and grilled meat wafted through the air; it seemed that the letter wasn't the most important thing after all. It was unclear what Nobu no Suke was hinting at, but since he was there, how could they let Nobu no Suke drink alone?
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