８ Ｊｕｎｅ， Ｋｅｉｓｕｋｅ Ｕｙａｍａ
文字数 3,440文字
When Stay-at-Home Is Over
More couples are getting married, it seems, because of the coronavirus. As embarrassing as it is to say, I decided to get on the marriage wave. I already know what I’m going to say:
“Until today, I’ve practiced every restraint, but I can’t restrain myself from you. Let me make a declaration. I’m in a state of emergency.”
It’s a fabulous line. It’s witty and in keeping with the times.
With these words, I swear to make you happy.
You and I met at the café in front of the station. At first, as server and customer. Whenever you came in, we talked non-stop. You didn’t say very much, actually, but you always smiled. It was because of something you’d said that we became a couple:
“Oh, I just love pugs!”
An unexpected confession of love.
I eavesdropped on your conversation with the manager and was floored.
I told the manager that I used to be called “Pugs” all through school, but who knew you’d been calling me by my nickname, too.
To be honest, I had my doubts about whether we could be a couple. Your Twitter account, which I managed to track down, said, “This annoying customer’s been harassing me for about a year, and it’s awful!” so I thought you might have relationship anxiety.
But look, if you’ve got a stalker, I wish you’d tell me about it. We’ve known each other for a year now. Do I seem that unreliable to you?
Still, you said you love me. So, I said that I liked you, too. The young guy sitting next to you sneezed as I said it, but you heard me, right? I mean, you did smile back at me, so. . . .
Then, the stay-at-home order. You and I were torn apart by the times. But my feelings for you haven’t changed. And it’s the same for you, I guess. Just yesterday, you tweeted, “I really do love pugs!” You didn’t use my real name because you didn’t want the stalker to know it. But that was you dropping me a hint, right?
I bought a ring, too. With the 100,000 yen the government gave us.
Tomorrow, the café is re-opening for business. The first thing I’m going to do when I see you is give you the ring and—
“Mah-kun! You’d better get to your interview for the part-time job!”
“Shut up, you old bag! I’m not going! What if I come in close contact with an infected person?”
That’s right. The only person in the world I want to come in close contact with is you—Hey? A new tweet.
“I’m getting married! It’s a corona marriage!”
Th-this guy in the photo with you. . . . That’s the sneezing dude!! You mean to tell me that smile was for him, not me? You meant that you love real pugs? Don’t toy with me! You’ve been stringing me along! I bought you a damn ring! Now what I am going to do with it?
Hey, today is June 8 . . . . My mother’s birthday.
Oh, well. Guess I’ll close the social distance between my mother and me.
Translated by Takami Nieda/Arranged by TranNet KK
Keisuke Uyama
Born in Kanagawa Prefecture. Screenwriter and author. Books include
More couples are getting married, it seems, because of the coronavirus. As embarrassing as it is to say, I decided to get on the marriage wave. I already know what I’m going to say:
“Until today, I’ve practiced every restraint, but I can’t restrain myself from you. Let me make a declaration. I’m in a state of emergency.”
It’s a fabulous line. It’s witty and in keeping with the times.
With these words, I swear to make you happy.
You and I met at the café in front of the station. At first, as server and customer. Whenever you came in, we talked non-stop. You didn’t say very much, actually, but you always smiled. It was because of something you’d said that we became a couple:
“Oh, I just love pugs!”
An unexpected confession of love.
I eavesdropped on your conversation with the manager and was floored.
I told the manager that I used to be called “Pugs” all through school, but who knew you’d been calling me by my nickname, too.
To be honest, I had my doubts about whether we could be a couple. Your Twitter account, which I managed to track down, said, “This annoying customer’s been harassing me for about a year, and it’s awful!” so I thought you might have relationship anxiety.
But look, if you’ve got a stalker, I wish you’d tell me about it. We’ve known each other for a year now. Do I seem that unreliable to you?
Still, you said you love me. So, I said that I liked you, too. The young guy sitting next to you sneezed as I said it, but you heard me, right? I mean, you did smile back at me, so. . . .
Then, the stay-at-home order. You and I were torn apart by the times. But my feelings for you haven’t changed. And it’s the same for you, I guess. Just yesterday, you tweeted, “I really do love pugs!” You didn’t use my real name because you didn’t want the stalker to know it. But that was you dropping me a hint, right?
I bought a ring, too. With the 100,000 yen the government gave us.
Tomorrow, the café is re-opening for business. The first thing I’m going to do when I see you is give you the ring and—
“Mah-kun! You’d better get to your interview for the part-time job!”
“Shut up, you old bag! I’m not going! What if I come in close contact with an infected person?”
That’s right. The only person in the world I want to come in close contact with is you—Hey? A new tweet.
“I’m getting married! It’s a corona marriage!”
Th-this guy in the photo with you. . . . That’s the sneezing dude!! You mean to tell me that smile was for him, not me? You meant that you love real pugs? Don’t toy with me! You’ve been stringing me along! I bought you a damn ring! Now what I am going to do with it?
Hey, today is June 8 . . . . My mother’s birthday.
Oh, well. Guess I’ll close the social distance between my mother and me.
Translated by Takami Nieda/Arranged by TranNet KK
Keisuke Uyama
Born in Kanagawa Prefecture. Screenwriter and author. Books include
Gāruzu
suteppu
(Girls step),Sakura
no
yō
na
boku
no
koibito
(My lover, like the cherry-blossoms), andKimi
ni
sasayaka
na
kiseki
o
(For you, a humble miracle), among others. Works for which he acted as a scriptwriter include the filmKonya,
romansu
gekijō
de
(Tonight, at the romance theater), andNobunaga
kontseruto
(Nobunaga concerto).
