The Past
Chiaki walked around the silent city. He tried to imagine it filled with people, like all the places he'd seen in the past, and for a minute it even worked. Then he opened his eyes, and it was impossible to ignore the decrepit buildings.
There were some other people around. He could go and find them, if he really wanted to. But they were all so scattered, and there were so few of them anyway, that it would hardly be worth seeking them out. Anyway, he felt like being alone with his thoughts. It is possible to do that in solitude or in a crowd – but not in a small group of people. There was no anonymity in that.
He just wanted to hear someone's voice, and not be required to reply.
He missed Yasuo. He'd been twelve or so then, when Yasuo had leapt from the roof. Yasuo had been older, seventeen or eighteen. It was getting harder and harder to remember, these days. Maybe if he looked at the newspaper clippings again. After all, there was little else there for him now. Nothing but reliving the past.
