Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa

Author:Satoshi Yagisawa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Manilla Press

Right after this, there was another little development at the Saveur. Around nine, Sabu stopped making a fuss and went home (probably because if he didn’t get back early his wife would’ve let him have it), so I moved to sit at a table. As the night wore on, there were only a few customers left. I ordered another coffee, and promptly took the book I’d been reading from my bag and opened it up to my page. Then I noticed something. There was someone I recognized sitting by the window.

He was a slim man in his late twenties. He wore a pale blue shirt with gray pants. His hair was cut short and neatly trimmed. There was nothing flashy about him, but there was something appealing about how neat he was. He was staring out the window absentmindedly, with a half-read paperback lying facedown on the table. He looked as if he were waiting for someone.

Who was he? As I stared at him, thinking this over, he suddenly turned to me as if he’d noticed I was looking at him.

When our eyes met, we both looked surprised. He looked at me and then at the paperback I was holding, then again back and forth, as if he were comparing the two, then he nodded as if he’d understood, and quietly said, “Hello.”

Hearing his voice, I finally remembered where I’d met him before. How could I have forgotten? He was someone I’d dealt with many times at the Morisaki Bookshop. Because we were inundated with extremely idiosyncratic regulars—with Sabu chief among them—it was harder for someone a bit more withdrawn like him to make a strong impression. So it just took me a moment to remember him. I was flustered as I returned his greeting, embarrassed about having stared at him so shamelessly.

“Nice to see you. It’s been a while,” I said, and quickly bowed, but he smiled and said, “Oh, there’s no need to be so formal.” He had a nice smile that put you at ease.

Right at that moment, the waitress arrived at my table, carrying my coffee on her tray. She was standing directly between the two of us and seemed confused about what to do in the situation. I got caught up in it too and started feeling flustered.

Seeing this, he shyly offered an invitation. “Would you like to sit here?”

“Would you by any chance be waiting for someone?” I asked hesitantly.

“Not especially at the moment,” he replied.

Hearing this, the waitress regained her confidence and her smile. “In that case, here it is,” she said, quickly placing my coffee in front of his seat.

To which I responded, “I guess I’ll sit here then,” as I moved to the seat across from him.

In times like this, I tend to get sort of carried away. He had just been kind enough to invite me over. It wasn’t that he especially wanted to talk to me. Now I was interrupting his alone time. Once I started thinking this way, I felt I needed to apologize.

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