“Either way, it’s way too late.” “I wouldn’t say that. What I think, if it’s someone who really gets you, a five- year, ten-year blank isn’t a problem at all. You can pick things up again like it was only yesterday. I’m just saying, it couldn’t hurt to give it a try, if only to see if Kiriko Hizumi’s that kind of person for you. Could even help with your not-wanting-anything problem.” I don’t remember how I replied to that. But I’m sure it was a vague answer that cut the conversation short. ---------- I’ll go meet Kiriko, I decided. I wanted to honor Shindo’s suggestion, and I was lonely after losing my best and only friend. Most importantly, I was pushed forward by the harsh realization that the people you care about won’t live forever for you. Working up all my courage, I went outside and drove to my parents’ house. I took out the rectangular cookie tin from the closet in my room, and sorted the letters from Kiriko within on the floor by date. But as much as I looked for them, I couldn’t find those last letters that I’d never opened. I wondered where I could’ve put them. Taking in the nostalgic smell of my room, I reread the letters one at a time. There were one hundred and two spanning five years, and I went from the last letter backwards. By the time I finished reading the very first letter she’d sent, the sun had set. I bought envelopes and stationery, returned to my apartment, and wrote a letter. My hands could write her address from memory. There was a lot I wanted to tell her, but feeling it would be best to say it in person, I made the letter brief. “I’m sorry about breaking contact five years ago. I’ve been hiding things from you. If you’re willing to forgive me, then come to ___ Park on October 26th. It’s the children’s park on the way to my elementary school. I’ll be waiting there all day.”