The Passengers on the Hankyu Line полностью

At the time, the young woman had been carrying a canvas tote bag featuring a certain internationally recognizable mouse. He had found it a bit childish for someone her age – but then again, maybe it was the sturdiest bag she owned, or one that she didn’t care if it got ruined. When lugging around the maximum number of books you could borrow from the library, a flimsier or more tasteful bag would soon get damaged.

Which meant that she must come here pretty often.

His assumption was right on the money – since he came to the library fairly often himself, he started noticing her there more frequently. He’d spot her by her bag, emblazoned with the image of that mouse, its mouth wide open in a smile. She really was Masashi’s type, though and, although hard to admit, he quickly got used to seeking out the rodent.

Having lost out to her that one time, Masashi considered her a rival, so whenever he saw her around, he’d scour the library’s shelves pre-emptively for any special books that might be available.

He soon realized they shared similar tastes.

She had a knack for discovering interesting books and, as he threw a grudging glance at her selection, he’d consider borrowing them himself after she returned them. But he never made a note of the titles and soon forgot what any of them were.

He only ever bumped into her at the library – until now, they had never found themselves on the same train home.

At Kiyoshikojin Station, she had got on the train headed for Takarazuka Station, boarding the same car as Masashi, her tote with the smiling happy-go-lucky mouse bulging as always. Not that Masashi was one to talk – his leather backpack was filled to bursting.

But only Masashi seemed to have noticed.

At Takarazuka Station, where the train terminates, there are three options: leave the station, or transfer to the JR line, or to the other train line for Nishinomiya-Kitaguchi, known as Nishi-Kita.

No way, she can’t be heading for Nishi-Kita … he thought, but as their train pulled into the station, her gaze was locked on the opposite platform.

And sure enough, as soon as they arrived, she scurried over towards the train that was sitting at the platform across the way. On weekends, due to the popularity of the Hanshin Racecourse at Nigawa, all four tracks would often be occupied, with trains for Umeda and Takarazuka, and Nishinomiya-Kitaguchi and Takarazuka, respectively, sitting opposite each other. So, the transfer time was minimal.

The same track, even? His eyes followed her with vague annoyance, and he decided to travel in a different carriage.

It was pretty crowded, but the books he had taken out from the library were heavy, so Masashi made sure to score one of the empty seats.

Just then, the internal door connecting the cars opened. And who should appear but the young woman herself. Not many empty seats, she seemed to be thinking, swaying as she made her way down the carriage.

There were still a few empty seats. Without hesitating, she took the closest one, next to Masashi.

Such a strange series of chance encounters, overlapping like Jenga pieces, even if Masashi seemed to be the only one aware they were two players in a game.

Masashi hastily pulled one of the books he’d borrowed from his backpack.

As he began flipping through the pages, the young woman beside him made an odd motion. The famous mouse tote bag, heavy with books, still on her lap, she had swivelled her body around to see fully out of the window. She was now turned towards Masashi, so he had a full view of her face without even trying.

She was smiling and looking down at the scene below the elevated railway tracks.

What is it? Masashi peered down below too. The train was going over the iron bridge that spans the Mukogawa River.

‘Huh?’

The sound came out involuntarily. On a sandbank in the river, just before they reached the other side of the iron bridge, not small by any means, but rather, taking up almost the entire area above the water line, someone had written the character:

生

Or, not written so much as assembled – stones were piled up to form a three-dimensional shape of the kanji for ‘life’.

It had just the right balance and stature to catch the eye as an impressive objet d’art.

‘Amazing, isn’t it?’

The character 生 was so huge that it could be clearly made out, even from a distance and at an angle. But it wasn’t until the train had got to the other side of the bridge that he realized she was speaking to him.

While he was processing this fact, the young woman carried on speaking.

‘I first saw it about a month ago. It’s amazing, right?’

What’s amazing is that you even spotted it, he murmured. That she would focus her attention on a sandbank where no one would think to look and then notice some graffiti (?) there was kind of ridiculous – and yet remarkable.

‘Why do you think it’s amazing?’ she asked.