You Have to Remember Me
When Kanzaki Sawa looked at me from within the crowd, I heard my own heartbeat miss once, clear as a dropped bead. The square was full of an endless tide of people.
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When Kanzaki Sawa looked at me from within the crowd, I heard my own heartbeat miss once, clear as a dropped bead. The square was full of an endless tide of people.
I was standing at the roadside waiting for the light to change when, just as the red was about to die, a car cut across my vision.
At last, at four in the morning, the train entered Okinawa. All the mixed and restless feelings in the carriage seemed to settle with that hour.
The ward grew dimmer by the minute in the wounded dusk. The last light of sunset was being rubbed out at the edge of the sky.
I forgot everything that ever happened. Or perhaps I only pretended to. I heard the doctor say, "She's lost her memory.
Ono Momoko never forgot the first time she saw Asano Shu.
In the summer of 2006, three months after Riko returned to the city, she stood out wherever she went with her short wine-red hair. Passersby kept glancing at her.
Step by step, I moved forward through the dark blue depths, slow and laborious.