#nana56b
Lines from the story
Over twenty years have passed since then. Even now, tears
well up when I recall those days.
My family was single-parent and always poor. Mom worked
tirelessly, never sleeping at night, to support her three
children.
Our futons were thin, and the wind creeping in through the
window stung our skin.
Our daily meals consisted only of leftover rice and the
faint color of thin miso soup on the table.
I started working immediately after graduating junior high.
I worked desperately amidst the metallic smell of the
factory.
There was no time for play. Mornings were spent doing manual
labor in town, nights helping out at home...
And my paycheck always vanished, covering Mom's utility bills
and filling the children's empty stomachs.
There was hardly any time left for myself.
About a year later, I met a classmate I hadn't seen in ages.
We decided to grab a bite and went into a coffee shop in
town.
The menu was full of kanji... I couldn't read it.
The only thing I could read was ‘Omurice’ written in
katakana.
My classmate ordered “yakisoba and rice.”
Ignorant as I was, I blurted out, “Then I'll have omurice
and rice.”
The waiter froze, and chuckles escaped from the surrounding
tables.
Then my classmate said, “Cancel that order!! I'll have
omurice and rice too!!”
After we left the shop, he said just one thing: “That was
delicious.” Then, “Work hard, okay?”
Those words warmed me from the inside out in the cold wind.
Tears threatened to spill, and my throat felt sore.
From the bottom of my heart, I felt like saying ‘thank you’
to someone.
And he is still my best friend to this day.
