About Miracles
"But what are those things?"
"What?"
"Those. You know, the signs. They're standing right in the way of the line every single time."
"Ahh. That restaurant map? Isn't that a district office thing?"
"Would the district office do something like that?"
"You're right. Looking at this... seems like the shops in that alley put them up."
"Come on. It's hard enough waiting in line as it is. They're just in the way."
"Yeah, they do get underfoot."
"Exactly! What even is the point of them?"
There were plenty of complaints about the A-frame signs that had nothing to do with my cooking.
As if the coffee truck and the ramen truck weren't enough already, the lines snaked this way and that in long, winding queues. Thanks to that, even the owners selling hot dogs and buttered squid had joined the fray, stepping in to hand something to the waiting customers.
And so the A-frame signs had become a nuisance. More people kept coming, yet those boards only took up space. From the atmosphere, it seemed the alley shop owners were starting to catch on. I'd seen Boss Bang and his friend next door come by several times to check the situation. When advertising only earned them curses instead of help, it wasn't going to last long.
Judging by the looks of things, they'll pull them soon.
It wouldn't be long before the signs were gone. And when that happened, I would have a choice to make.
What should I do?
First I had to decide whether to set the tables back up. The cup ramen I'd started as a last resort had become a headache precisely because the menu turned over so fast that business was booming.
Should I make a little rest area for the people waiting? Hmm... I'll put that on hold for now.
Go back to a ramen cart like before? Or stay a takeout spot? Both were happy problems to have.
And looking further ahead—
At this rate, I should have enough soon to rent a proper shop. Hmm... but just abandoning this spot feels a little sad, doesn't it?
My thoughts about a new store had grown deeper. Money was steadily piling up. Running the truck these past months had left me with more than enough to lease a place tomorrow. The only thing short was the interior costs.
If I shop around carefully, there should be a shop that doesn't need major renovations...
That, too, seemed possible if I just put in the legwork. In the end, it was my own heart that was the problem.
Somehow I'd grown attached. The nameless regulars and customers. Those precious footsteps made it hard to simply walk away. Maybe it was because I liked the smell of ordinary human life after so long.
...Honestly, I've always been too soft-hearted. Even in my past life this soft heart got me into trouble more than once, and I still can't fix it.
Some might call it meddling. But looking after people I'd formed a bond with, even by chance, just one more time—that was simply how I lived.
Maybe that was what kept me going through the heartless days of the apocalypse. Though things aren't like that now. So what do I do?
How long did I keep turning those thoughts over, fretting about the future and the customers I was grateful for?
Huh? What's going on with them?
An unexpected scene unfolded right before my eyes.
Day one.
"Welcome!"
Day two.
"Enjoy your meal and come again."
Day three.
"Spicy again today? I'll show you how it's done."
I kept a careful eye on the surroundings. There were people I was looking for.
Not here again today? They used to come every day.
The ones I was searching for never appeared. I felt the disappointment keenly.
A week passed.
It was the third day since the A-frame signs had been cleared away, and more than ten days since the cup-ramen business had settled into place. That day, too, I sold out every last scrap of prepared ingredients and closed shop.
Next came the cleanup.
I might need to hire part-timers soon. Never thought I'd need help while running a food truck, but here we are.
I was still mulling over how to free up my hands when I finished gathering the scattered trash and headed to the disposal spot. On the small bench beside that out-of-the-way place sat a familiar face.
"Oh?"
It was the person I'd been looking for.
Something must have happened.
Why? His face looked so downcast. In those clear eyes that belied his age, I thought I saw the faint glisten of tears.
"Elder?"
"Ahem..."
When I drew near and made my presence known, the old man wiped at the corners of his eyes and looked my way.
"W-what brings you here, young man...?"
"I, uh... came to throw out the trash."
"Ah...!"
He glanced at the trash bags in my hands and the area around us. Realizing the situation only then, he began apologizing over and over.
"My word, I was so out of it I asked something foolish. Forgive me."
Apologizing to someone as young as me over nothing at all—it was a rare, elder-like gesture. There had never been anything to apologize for in the first place. If anything, I was the one whose heart grew heavy.
Is something weighing on him?
I couldn't begin to guess what might trouble him so. The frustration only mounted. Asking just to ease my own mind would have been rude.
I mustn't barge in carelessly.
I was wary of situations like this. I had lived in a world where even a small mistake could come back as a threat to your life. The memories of my past life were, in their own way, a kind of trauma. So a certain hesitation was inevitable. For me, this sort of thing was harder than any battle.
...This isn't that ruined world anymore. Snap out of it. Don't be scared for no reason.
I erased the hesitation. I had to take even one more step forward. I couldn't live forever this carefully. All right. Courage.
I asked carefully.
"...Are you all right?"
"Hmm? All right how?"
"You, Elder."
"..."
Instead of answering, he simply stared at me for a long time. Vacantly. I lingered in those clear eyes. He stayed silent quite a while.
Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Hmm... even without the apocalypse, this kind of thing is still rude.
Everyone moved at different speeds in relationships. However careful I thought I was being, it might have felt far too fast to him. I had done something that could well have been an unwelcome intrusion. I was just thinking I ought to apologize when he suddenly rose to his feet and looked at me.
"...Would you walk with me a while?"
"Yes!"
My answer had already been decided. I followed behind the old man as he stood.
"..."
"..."
He walked for a long time. Spine straight, back held tall, for so long I couldn't tell where he found the strength.
"Flowers. When I was a boy they used to bloom so thickly here."
"That over there used to be rice paddies, you know. Hard to believe, isn't it?"
"And that building... yes. That was the first place I ever worked."
Flowers still blooming in the cracks long after their season. Rice fields and vegetable plots that had long since vanished. Only when he spoke of those layered traces of time did he open his firmly closed mouth. His eyes, looking at them, seemed to have gone somewhere far away, as if recalling something I could never know.
We wandered the alleys quite a while. Then the old man suddenly spoke.
"Thank you."
"Pardon?"
Embarrassment colored his voice.
"For walking with this old man. Apart from Sunwu's mother—my wife, I mean—it's been a long time since I've walked with anyone like this."
"Haha. Not at all. It's my first time strolling through the neighborhood this slowly myself. It was rather fun."
"Is that so? Good, then. Thanks to you I felt quite lively."
"If it's all right, shall we walk together again next time? Both of you."
"Heh heh..."
At my suggestion he only laughed instead of answering.
"If possible... if possible, let's do that."
"Pardon?"
"Ahem. It's gotten late. I turn into this alley here... and you?"
Bitterness clung to the laugh. Along with it, a hesitation I couldn't quite name. Pretending to know what it meant first would have been no courtesy at all.
"I can just turn at this alley myself."
"Heh heh. That's a relief. I was worried this old man had made you take the long way around."
"Ah, what's a little detour? I got to sightsee. It was nice."
"Was it?"
"Yes. It was a good time."
"Glad to hear it. I had a fine walk myself today, thanks to you. Ahem... I've talked too much. You hurry on home now."
"Yes!"
He turned and walked away. For some reason, the figure of the old man moving off looked heavy. I watched him blankly until he was gone.
Should I go after him?
The next day.
As if keeping yesterday's promise, the old man appeared the moment business opened. The two of them walking hand in hand, so snug together, was as lovely as always.
They came... but...
They didn't approach. Or rather, they couldn't. The old woman suddenly flung his hand away as if shaking off a bug. The startled old man tried to step closer. She refused him flatly. The pitiful old man, head bowed in something like despair, stood before her a long time. Even the old woman seemed flustered; she glanced about this way and that, took a step back, then suddenly startled and came back to him again.
A long, strange tussle. Leaving that commotion behind them, the two of them left.
Those two, quarreling. It had never happened before. They were the kind of couple I hoped I might become when I grew old. For them to look like that...
I think I understand why.
I had overheard the snatches of their conversation that floated over from time to time.
"Boss? Order?"
"Huh? Right. Gotta take the order."
"Something wrong?"
"No."
Nothing wrong with me. Only with the elders. It was someone else's business. In the past I would have forced myself to look away even if it caught my eye. But for some reason, the sight of those two had stamped itself into my chest like a seal.
...What do I do?
Two days. Three. Four.
I hesitated for several days.
I just can't get them out of my head.
Was this right? Something kept catching in my chest. The image of those two wouldn't leave me. And at the same time—
Is this even okay?
Was it really right for me to care this much? The thought kept rising. The old couple and I. We had met as customer and shopkeeper. Beyond that, there was no bond at all. If I had to name one, it was that single neighborhood walk. That was all. And yet my heart was drawn.
Useless pity?
Pity. In the world of my past life, that was the first word you had to throw away. And yet the heart I had clung to until the very end seemed to be tormenting me now. My heart ached. And still the reason I couldn't step forward was—
Hesitation.
Yes. Because of that one feeling.
Why am I hesitating?
For some reason I still didn't know the cause of this feeling. And the longer my hesitation stretched, the longer the old couple stayed away from the shop. Some days they didn't come at all. Other days I watched them start to approach only to turn back, as if wavering.
Ah...
There was no open quarrel like before. But sometimes you can see things without looking. The old woman's clothes, somehow younger-looking. The old man, who used to look so gentlemanly, now stripped of that neatness and trailing after her with difficulty. The contrast between them spoke to me.
What exactly are you hesitating for?
Trauma from the past life? Fear of being cursed for helping? The baseness of those days? Was now the time to be caught by that kind of thing?
No, it isn't.
It was only an excuse. The one excuse made by the me who still couldn't shake free of past-life fear. The coward's alibi, terrified of being hurt if he approached first. The moment I realized it was nothing more than a pretext my fearful self had invented—afraid of failing if I stuck my neck out—
"Uh—order...?"
"Just a moment. Just a moment. I'm truly sorry."
I stripped off my apron as if shedding the armor I wore. Then I jumped down from the truck and ran, shouting.
"Elder! Elder! Wait a moment!"
"W-what?!"
"Elder! Please stop for just a second."
Please stop, just for a moment.
I saw the old man's startled face.
"Young man."
"Oh my. Who are you?"
The old woman, who didn't recognize me, was there too. I walked straight up to both of them.
"You've been well, I hope?"
"...I've been well. Feels like I'm living through young days I'll never return to."
Young days he could never return to. Days that might be a nightmare, or for someone else the moment when everything was forgotten. The fact that he could put it that way was the strength of all the years he had piled up.
"Young days you'll never return to. I see."
"Yes. That's right."
"What are you two talking about without me?"
"Ah, of course. First time meeting him, isn't it? This young man is a promising chef."
"Oh my, a chef? Wow. I've never seen him before."
"He's something special. He'll be famous soon—you might not get another chance to meet him."
"Really? Should I get an autograph or something?"
"Heh heh. Do you give autographs?"
"Not yet."
"Hear that?"
"What a shame."
The two of them, returned to their young days, had a freshness different from before. Even without formal speech between them, the tenderness was the same as ever. Even if the tense and form of the people I knew had changed, it made no difference to me.
"No autograph, but I think I can treat you to a meal."
"Treat us?"
"Yes. Treat you. Ma'am, you wouldn't know, but—"
"Oh my. I haven't even married that man yet. No—I'm not going to."
"Heh heh..."
"I see. Heh. Then even though it's not yet—there's a kindness I owe, so I'd like to treat you. Will you accept?"
"So suddenly?"
"Yes. Suddenly."
"You have a business to run. We wouldn't want to be a burden..."
"Not at all. Not at all. I'll come after I close up."
"Still..."
"Then how about a day off? I'm doing this because I want to."
"..."
The old woman looked into the old man's eyes, as if seeking his agreement. When he forced himself to nod, she finally asked me.
"...Then may we impose on you?"
"Gladly."
Only then could I grasp one thin strand of their time.