I can’t keep living like this forever…
Masumi let out a quiet sigh, careful not to draw attention, and slipped her feet from the borrowed green slippers back into her own heels.
She fastened the slim buckle around her ankle and lifted her gaze. The friendly staff member offered her yet another deep bow, her face alight with a beaming smile.
“Thank you so very much. I’m sorry we can only ever offer a token of our gratitude.”
The older woman spoke with genuine regret.
They were well acquainted by now. It had been three years since Masumi first began visiting this nursing home to give volunteer performances. In an industry with constant staff turnover, the woman was something of an exception, having stayed in the same place for many years.
Masumi had never asked why.
They were close enough to exchange warm words, but not so close as to pry into personal circumstances. Still, watching her gentle manner, Masumi naturally felt she must be a kind person.
“No, not at all. I’m grateful just to have a place where I’m allowed to play.”
“Because you say that, Ms. Todo, the director can’t help but take advantage of your kindness.”
The woman pressed a hand to her cheek, her eyebrows slanting apologetically. The gesture matched her words perfectly. She might fret about it, but without any authority of her own, there was little she could actually do.
Even so, Masumi found herself fond of her. She always came out to see her off, always spoke with such softness.
“Well then, I’ll be going. Perhaps next time will be March or April.”
“Yes, please. We’ll be in touch again.”
Their gentle promise referred to the next visit. As Masumi idly wondered what pieces would suit the spring, she left the nursing home she had grown so used to visiting.
Outside, fine snow drifted through the pitch-black night.
Her breath turned white, dissolving into the star-flecked sky as she exhaled. Tonight was a holy night. Christmas Eve. The slowly falling snow was beautiful, perfectly suited to something special.
Not that it has anything to do with me.
Pulling her collar tighter against the cold, Masumi murmured the words under her breath.
She was what people liked to call a failure at life. A dropout. The reasons were many, but regardless of how she’d arrived here, she knew well enough that being twenty-eight and scraping by on part-time work was hardly something society welcomed.
Her only steady income came from a convenience store job. And because she was a woman, it was daytime shifts only, amounting to little more than spare change. Barely better than a student’s earnings.
She could play the violin well enough to call it a talent. That was exactly what she had been doing earlier. But having given up on that path, it amounted to no more than occasional pocket money, not even worth mentioning.
And so her thoughts circled back to her opening mutter.
I can’t go on like this forever.
Yet whenever she tried to imagine her future, she realized she had nothing in particular she wanted to do. She had loved the violin once. She’d thought she could devote her entire life to it, even dreamed of becoming a professional performer. But after being told her playing lacked emotion, she began to dislike it. Perhaps it was more accurate to say she became afraid of playing seriously.
That was why she only played casually now, just enough to earn a little money.
When she first graduated, she’d been miraculously hired by a major corporation under a so-called special skills program. She worked in an administrative role and did her best, but she never quite fit in. By her fourth year, her health gave out, and she ended up resigning.
After that, she was cast out of society in the blink of an eye, landing where she was now. When you fall, it happens fast. Society was terrifying.
Her parents were no longer by her side.
Her mother had passed away when Masumi was in middle school. Her father was still alive, but he had a new family now. Masumi didn’t reach out to him, and he didn’t contact her. So there were no nagging complaints, but no guilty feelings about causing worry either.
Even so, she was at least aware that this was no way for an adult to live. Whether she could call herself a “working member of society” with a straight face was highly questionable.
Thinking about it only led her in circles. No miraculous, life-changing idea ever came to mind.
Even lost in thought, the midwinter cold bit into her all the same. The thin stockings around her feet offered little protection. And though she wore a coat, beneath it was a light, knee-length performance dress. The camisole allowed the wind to slip in through her sleeves, mercilessly stealing away her body heat.
“I’m cold… I’m hungry… I want to tear into a roast chicken…”
Her desires spilled out as muttered complaints. Modesty could go to hell. It wasn’t as though she had a boyfriend, not for years now. The more she accepted it, the more pitiful it sounded, but that too was simply reality.
Before long, she reached the nearest station.
It was small to begin with, but tonight it felt especially deserted. Christmas Eve, she supposed vaguely. With a reckless huff, Masumi broke into a jog and ran down the stairs to the platform.
Damn it.
Everyone else was probably at some restaurant with a beautiful night view, murmuring things like “This is delicious,” “It really is,” “How lovely,” “You’re lovelier,” and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, she was freezing and starving just to earn a paltry honorarium that wouldn’t even cover one of those dinners.
To hell with happy couples. Explode already.
Perhaps it was her irreverent thoughts on a holy night that cursed her. About five steps down from the top, Masumi missed her footing completely.
“Ah—!”
This was no dream, no exaggeration. The world truly slowed to a crawl.
There was no one around.
No one who might save her.
There were still plenty of steps left.
No matter how she fell, it was going to hurt.
Was this what people meant by seeing one’s life flash before their eyes? As she watched the stairs approach in slow motion, Masumi’s thoughts remained eerily calm. Her body moved on its own.
She clutched the violin case in her right hand tightly against her chest with both arms. Then she twisted her forward-leaning body around. If she landed on her back, even if she hit her head, the violin should survive.
Please let me be discharged in three days if I end up hospitalized!
Namu san!
Still lucid enough to shout that final prayer in her head, Masumi squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the inevitable impact.
