７ Ａｕｇｕｓｔ， Ｅｍａ Ｍｉｙａｓｈｉｔａ
文字数 3,665文字
Sweets for You
I was on my way home from school, glancing over at a park while waiting for the traffic light to change.
I have a boyfriend who goes to a different junior high. His name is Daisuke Yazawa. His hair is bleached blond, he has mean-looking eyes, and because of that, everyone seems to think he’s a bad boy, but I know that he’s nice boy who is a whiz at baking. We meet at the park every day after school, eating the yummy sweets he makes—or, we did, until a few months ago.
It was at the end of our seventh grade year that the virus started going around and schools were suddenly closed. I haven’t seen Daisuke since. The government declared a national state of emergency, and we entered eighth grade before we could figure out what was happening.
Naturally, we’ve been talking to each other on social media, and Daisuke sends me pictures of his homemade sweets practically every day. Rice cakes with red bean paste and strawberries inside to mark our Girls’ Day celebration in March, muffins filled with sweet bean paste and cherry blossom petals, a cake shaped like a carp streamer to celebrate Boys’ Day in May—everything looked really good, but it wasn’t the sweets in the photos that I wanted to see. I was dying to see Daisuke.
Finally, school was reconvened in June.
That was when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Daisuke.
It’s probably a picture of whatever it was that he made today.
I pulled out my phone and looked at the screen.
“Are you on your way home from school now?”
“Yeah, I’m standing in front of the park.”
I know he saw my reply, but he didn’t write anything back.
I wondered what happened.
The traffic light changed to green. I put my phone back in my pocket and began to cross the street.
I had been walking for a while when I heard someone ringing a bell on a bicycle behind me. I turned around and saw Daisuke, riding his bike and out of breath, wearing a face mask and face shield, with rubber gloves on both hands.
“Daisuke!”
“H-here.”
He held out an arm and passed me a paper bag that said: “Disinfected.” I opened it, and there was a beautiful white peach tart inside.
“Sakurako, you said white peaches were your favorite fruit. So I knew you had to taste this.”
“Thank you! This is wonderful!”
He was wearing a mask that hid a lot, but I could tell that he was wearing a goofy smile on his face.
Translated by Eriko Sugita/Arranged by TranNet KK
Ema Miyashita
Born in Osaka. Won the 15th Ogawa Mimei Literary Award and the 37th Juvenile Literature Award for Newcomers for
I was on my way home from school, glancing over at a park while waiting for the traffic light to change.
I have a boyfriend who goes to a different junior high. His name is Daisuke Yazawa. His hair is bleached blond, he has mean-looking eyes, and because of that, everyone seems to think he’s a bad boy, but I know that he’s nice boy who is a whiz at baking. We meet at the park every day after school, eating the yummy sweets he makes—or, we did, until a few months ago.
It was at the end of our seventh grade year that the virus started going around and schools were suddenly closed. I haven’t seen Daisuke since. The government declared a national state of emergency, and we entered eighth grade before we could figure out what was happening.
Naturally, we’ve been talking to each other on social media, and Daisuke sends me pictures of his homemade sweets practically every day. Rice cakes with red bean paste and strawberries inside to mark our Girls’ Day celebration in March, muffins filled with sweet bean paste and cherry blossom petals, a cake shaped like a carp streamer to celebrate Boys’ Day in May—everything looked really good, but it wasn’t the sweets in the photos that I wanted to see. I was dying to see Daisuke.
Finally, school was reconvened in June.
Now
I’ll
get
to
see
Daisuke
again!
Or so I thought. He said he couldn’t see me now because he didn’t want to infect me in case he had the virus.Then
when
will
we
get
together
again?
Doesn’t
he
miss
me
.
.
.
?
That was when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Daisuke.
It’s probably a picture of whatever it was that he made today.
I pulled out my phone and looked at the screen.
“Are you on your way home from school now?”
“Yeah, I’m standing in front of the park.”
I know he saw my reply, but he didn’t write anything back.
I wondered what happened.
The traffic light changed to green. I put my phone back in my pocket and began to cross the street.
I had been walking for a while when I heard someone ringing a bell on a bicycle behind me. I turned around and saw Daisuke, riding his bike and out of breath, wearing a face mask and face shield, with rubber gloves on both hands.
“Daisuke!”
“H-here.”
He held out an arm and passed me a paper bag that said: “Disinfected.” I opened it, and there was a beautiful white peach tart inside.
“Sakurako, you said white peaches were your favorite fruit. So I knew you had to taste this.”
He
remembered
that
I
loved
white
peaches
.
.
.
!
“Thank you! This is wonderful!”
He was wearing a mask that hid a lot, but I could tell that he was wearing a goofy smile on his face.
Translated by Eriko Sugita/Arranged by TranNet KK
Ema Miyashita
Born in Osaka. Won the 15th Ogawa Mimei Literary Award and the 37th Juvenile Literature Award for Newcomers for
Jiji:
Kimi
to
aruita
(Jiji: I walked with you). Her main works include the Ryūjin Ōji! (Dragon prince!) series, the Gakuen faibu sutāzu (Academic five stars) series, the Kimi to itsuka (Some day with you) series, the Tamago no mahō-ya Towa (Magical eggs and Towa) series,Kimi
wa
suīto
(You are sweet) later published as part ofGeki
koi!
(Aggressive love!),Gāru!
Gāru!
Gāruzu!
(Girl! Girl! Girls!),Ano
hi,
burūmūn
ni
(A blue moon on that day),Nanairo
reinbō
(Seven-color rainbow),Sumairu
mūn
no
yoru
ni
(On a night with a smile moon), among others.
