Strange Memories With You, My Dear

Chapter 03.01

From A World Not Here

Translated by KuroNeko
Edited by Omkar

The end-of-period bell rang, and the “Solid State Physics” class was over. 

“The assignments for the next class will be put on the class , so please download them by yourself and complete them before the next class,” said the associate professor instructing the class as he closed his laptop and textbook. Students who had been listening to the lecture in this small classroom stood up and exited the classroom and the first building, where most physics classes are held.

It was the end of the Golden Week’s break, and we were approaching the season when job seeking began in earnest, so I noticed a few students wearing suits here and there on campus. The students in black suits looked overheated as it was a gorgeous bright day and the temperature was unusually high. Some students remove their jackets and tuck them under their arms, while others roll up the sleeves of their shirts. The early summer afternoon sun was warm, and I, too, removed the light parka I was wearing over my jacket.

The university’s expansive grounds were densely forested with cherry trees, poplars, gingko trees, and a variety of other trees. The grass and trees, which were still growing, were shimmering green. On a beautiful day this time of year, the campus, which was lined with high rises with a lot of glass, was flooded with lights.

I began heading toward the Welfare Building, which houses the cafeteria, shop, café and is located on the outskirts of campus. Four female students chatting cheerfully, were walking in front of me. They are all dressed stylishly, so I figured they were in architecture or other design-related areas. Except in such areas, there are a lot of girls in science and engineering departments who don’t care about their attractiveness. Or, more accurately, the number of female students is fairly tiny. There are only about three or four students in a grade in my physics department.

All of the students surrounding me were making their way into the three-story welfare building. Students at our university who are not yet affiliated with a laboratory generally spend their lunch breaks and leisure time in the library or this welfare building. Even today, the first-floor school cafeteria was packed with students who appeared to be in their first and second years. A long line of people were queued up in front of the old-fashioned meal ticket vending machine.

I suddenly remembered myself at the times when I started this university, eating alone in this crowded cafeteria without many friends, sharing a table with people I didn’t know.

Those were difficult times. The level of the lessons increased considerably from high school, and I had no notion what the symbols (δ, ∇, etc.) that appeared in the formula the professor described on the chalkboard or whiteboard meant. I wondered if I would be able to graduate from this university, so I worked hard to get familiar with university classes by following up formula explanations online or in books I borrowed from the library. It was not the time to talk about having a great time on campus.

The welfare building’s upper floor contains a lounge with a number of desks and seats. Despite the elegant ambience created by the freshly renovated white desks, black chairs, and glass displays in the windows (displaying news, weather, and class cancellations), the male students lounging in the lounge were dull. They wore checkered flannel shirts and long jeans and were playing an AR card game that has recently gained popularity among geeks. 

I’ve seen my friends do it several times. As the AR cards are laid out on a special mat, holograms of the characters on the cards float to the top, and the characters move when they attack or are attacked. It also generates bright and spectacular effects, and the mat has a small speaker for full voice. If they don’t turn down the volume, the voices of the voice actors will reverberate throughout the lounge. They don’t mind since they’re having fun, but the trendy girls drinking coffee and nibbling sweets in the corner of the lounge glance at them as if to say, “What’s that?”

I passed through the lounge and went into the purchasing area at the back. The room was stocked with lunch boxes, bread, snacks, various beverages, books, and everything else necessary for science and engineering classes, such as drafting tools, function calculators, small tools, and lab coats.

I bought some fried bread, which I usually buy for lunch, some cup noodles to keep on hand, and a pack of milk, and left the store.

◇

Near the Welfare Building is the physics research building that houses the Fukuhara Laboratory = Applied Quantum Computation Laboratory of the Department of Physics at Tokyo University of Advanced Science and Technology, to which I belong. It is placed in an unobtrusive area of campus, a little distant from the buildings where classes and professors’ offices are conducted, so getting between them is a little cumbersome, but it was helpful to be able to go shopping at the Welfare Building fast when I was hungry.

I entered the physics research building through the glass entrance.

The exterior of the Physics Research Building is painted beautifully white. The inside of the building, on the other hand, is composed of fair-faced concrete. The building appeared to be incredibly robust, as if it would not be affected by a massive earthquake, most likely because it housed numerous expensive and sensitive experimental equipment, including the D-F quantum computer installed on campus two years ago for research objectives. I walked up the concrete stairs on the side instead of using the elevator from the entrance. The Fukuhara Lab is located on the second floor of this five-story building, which also has a basement. We have two rooms: Room 201 (the easternmost room) and Room 202 (next to it).

Room 201 comprises a laboratory atmosphere, including vacuum equipment, laser equipment, liquid nitrogen tanks, spectrometers, atomic force microscopes, and several other experimental instruments, as well as a number of Desktop computers and screens. Various electronic devices, sensors, optical components, cables, experimental equipment manuals, and files holding data from previous experiments done in this laboratory are stored on heavy – duty steel shelves. Then there’s a long desk in the middle, with a few pipe seats and a giant digital whiteboard in the back. You may see the tangled mathematical formulas that we students put there. Room 201 is used for experiments, round lectures, and intra-laboratory presentations that do not require large-scale equipment.

Room 202 is mostly used as a lounge room. There are two long desks facing each other, each with eight computers. As we often analyze and simulate experimental results, all of the computers were quite capable. This room has no experimental equipment or components on the shelves, and it has a quiet office-like ambience, with only one huge printer and an array of folders containing photocopies of technical books and documents.

Students who are members of the lab spend much of their time here. There is also a refrigerator, microwave, and water heater, allowing for the preparation of simple meals. Mugs, forks, and other items brought in by students were stacked on a shelf beside the water supply. I stepped inside and opened the door to the living room, which had “Applied Quantum Computation Laboratory” inscribed on it with duct tape.

“Ahh, Nakayama-kun, thanks—”

Soon after, Nakajima-senpai, a first-year master’s student, approached me. He was sitting closest to the door, eating a cup of ramen. The computer monitor on the desk was turned on, and it was showing an online news site. Nakajima-senpai is a kind person who has taught me how to use the experimental apparatus, compile data, operate simulation software, and many other things since he was appointed to our laboratory six months ago.

The other people in the living room were Fukuhara-sensei, a second-year doctoral student and a female student, Mizuho Kobayashi, a rarity in the Physics Department, who was reading a book while sipping a drink from her own mug. Her long bangs were usually brushed to the side, and she dresses simply for the season: a T-shirt, a light sweater, and slender trousers or shorts. She was one of two female physics students who started the school at the same time as me. She, like me, intended to continue her education at the graduate level.

Even before we met in this lab, we seldom spoke to each other, despite the fact that we saw each other in class on a regular basis. She always sat alone in the corner of the classroom, packed her things after class, and walked out without saying anything. But, since I joined this lab last autumn, we’ve been talking a lot.

She is from Tohoku and is currently living alone in an apartment near the university. She works part-time at a nearby coffee shop, so she sometimes brings me goodies from there. She looked cool and thus at first glance appeared unsociable, but once I got to know her, she was surprisingly easy to talk to and good at reading the air, so teachers and seniors loved her.

In addition to me and Kobayashi, there is another male student in our laboratory, Asano, who is a fourth-year undergraduate student. He is looking for a job and has been attending numerous information sessions since the beginning of the spring. He had invited me to a joint company information session hosted by a recruitment firm a while back, and I had gone with him.

It was tiring to be in a space where students with similar hairstyles and clothes gathered together as if they were clones, and those who gave explanations and asked questions spoke only in a tentative manner, but it was surprisingly interesting to learn that there are companies doing many different things in the world.

I sat down next to Nakajima-senpai and put my bag on the backrest. Then I opened the bag of bread I had bought, took a bite, and drank some milk.

“Here it is, Nakayama-kun’s fried bread. I don’t know how you eat it every day and never get tired of it.” Nakajima-senpai, who eats a different cup of noodles every day, said. Over the last few years, he appears to have conquered every variety of cup noodle sold in the purchasing department, and when a new product is stocked, he is often the first to pick it.

“This is actually delicious. Besides, it’s kind of become a routine. I’m kind of uncomfortable eating something different for lunch.”

I replied and looked at Nakajima-senpai’s hand. And I thought, “Gee.” Nakajima Senpai’s cup noodles were labeled “Tomato Chili Udon.” I’ve never seen this before, so it’s probably a new product.

“What is this strange combination?” I said with a slight draw.

“It’s surprisingly good. Wanna try?” Nakajima-senpai said so and held out the disposable chopsticks he was using toward me. But the bright red soup with white Udon was somehow unacceptable to me.

“No, thanks. I’ll pass.” I replied with a wry smile, munching on a piece of delicious fried bread, while listening to Fukuhara-sensei and the others a short distance away. 

The talk sounded to be about what Komada-senpai, a second-year doctoral student, would be presenting at the upcoming conference. Words I still don’t understand are being passed back and forth between the two of us. Kobayashi-san, seated diagonally across from me, didn’t seem to be bothered by the banter between Nakajima-senpai and myself, or the Sensei’s and Komada-senpai’s conversation, and was rolling the pages of her book at her own pace. There are a total of 10 students in this laboratory, ranging from fourth-year undergraduates to PhD students, so the number of students is still rather small, but it was a typical lunchtime setting in the laboratory.

I put away the bread packet, drank the last of the carton of milk, and took out my pens and pencils from my backpack to prepare for next week’s seminar, as well as the paper we were going to read in a circle.

◇

I walked past the campus entrance and exit shortly after 9:00 P.M., greeting the campus security guard with a “Thank you for your hard work.”

I’ve been doing work for lectures, reviewing materials for my thesis preparation, helping a senior graduate student to summarize the results of his experiments, and so on since this afternoon, and I just left the laboratory a few minutes ago. Since our university was located a little outside of the city center, the campus was in a peaceful neighborhood with numerous houses. There aren’t many places to enjoy near the university, but if you go to the nearest station, you’ll find taverns, family restaurants, and department stores that cater to students, so that’s where everyone goes when they enjoy nearby.

My parents’ house to the university was roughly an hour apart by train. As a result, I did not live alone and instead commuted from my parents’ house. I’ve stayed at a neighboring friend’s room or at a laboratory several times, but since joining a laboratory, I’ve essentially been leaving home around 8:00 a.m. and leaving the university around 9:00 P.M. Although graduate students frequently linger in the lab until late at night when the deadline for submitting papers or attending conferences approaches, I leave the lab about the same time. Kobayashi-san, the girl, goes back at her boarding house apartment a little earlier on her bicycle.

My smartphone vibrated as I walked along a quiet street toward the station. I grabbed it from my pocket and peered at the screen and saw that it was a message from Yuuko.

“I’m on my way home right now. Can I call you later about tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’m also on my way home now, so I’ll get back to you later from here, around 10:00, are you okay?”

“It’s fine. Thanks.”

I’ve been dating her for four years now.

Although we had a few fights and some minor problems, we’ve continued to date without it ever developing into anything major like a breakup. I did most of the things that twenty-two year old men and women would do. 

Since the latter half of last year, she had been busy with her teaching practice and preparation for the teacher recruitment exam, so we had not been able to see each other very often, but tomorrow, for the first time in a while, we promised to hang out together from noon.

◇

We went to a movie theater in Ikebukuro to see a movie that had just been released. Yuuko’s university friends had told her it was interesting, so she wanted to see it. Last night’s phone call was to discuss that.

After leaving the movie theater, we took a break at a neighboring café and went window shopping in a large commercial building that she and I always go to, which had restaurants and clothing stores.

Yuuko was dressed simply in a navy blue dress and short brown boots with somewhat high heels. Her hair has grown much longer since high school, and the back of her head now touches her shoulder blades. In the crowded streets, the rhythmic throb of her boots reverberated rhythmically with the steady pounding of her boots. On the way there, Yuuko said that she wanted to buy some sheet music, so we stopped by a music store in the building.

She intended to be an elementary or middle school music teacher and went on to study the piano until her sophomore year of university. I had the opportunity to visit Yuuko’s house a few times after university, and that’s when I first heard her play. I heard the sound of a piano as I strolled through the store. In the store, a girl in her early elementary school years was sitting on a piano chair, playing some sort of music. The waiter and what appeared to be the child’s parents were smiling as they surrounded her.

“She’s skillful. Yet still so little.” Yuuko, too, muttered to herself as she listened to the child’s performance.

“Yuuko, play something too.”

“Ehh. It’s embarrassing, I’m old enough. Oh, those things are so cute because they’re done by little kids.”

“Just a little.”

Yuuko shyly sat down on a chair at an electronic piano in the corner of the store and played “The Flea Waltz” rhythmically, with a slight arrangement, when I asked her to. I loved to watch her play the piano because she seemed to enjoy it so much.

“Yes. That’s all. Enough, okay?” Yuuko echoed a chord, then stood up, looking a little embarrassed.

Yeah, I nodded, satisfied.

Yuuko then bought the sheet music she wanted, and then wandered into the general store on the other floor, and suddenly, she took out her smartphone.

“It’s from mom.”

Muttering to herself, she read the message. Then she said, “Well, I’m in trouble,” and tilted her head.

“What’s happened?”

Then she looked a little apologetic and explained the situation

“My grandma has been in the hospital for two months now, and my mom forgot to buy more nursing care supplies. She asked if I had time to buy one and take it to her.”

“Is it close by?”

“It’s in Suginami.”

“It’s okay, that’s the priority.”

When I said that, Yuuko replied with a “sorry,” and then swiftly handled her smartphone to compose a message and contact her mother back.

Then we walked toward the down escalator to get out of the building for now.

“About you grandma, why is she in the hospital?”

“Alzheimer’s disease and chronic health problems.”

“What’s her age?”

“She is ninety-three years old this year.”

“I see. That’s a long life…”

We talked about such things as we rode the escalator. Then, Yuuko, who was standing on the step right behind me, called my name, Yukinari.

“If you want, let’s go together? I’m sure it won’t take long, and then we can go somewhere else again. I mean, it’s a good opportunity for me to introduce you to my grandmother.”

“Eh? Me?”

“Yes.”

Yuuko nodded.

Compared to when I went to her house and met Fukuhara-sensei for the first time, I didn’t feel much, if any, resistance. But I’m nervous about meeting her relatives, to a point.

Yuuko has a quiet personality, but surprisingly, she pulled me along in that area. In contrast, when I was a sophomore in college, I finally decided to prepare myself, or rather, I was able to introduce Yuuko to my mother. When I invited her to my house for dinner, I was somewhat embarrassed and couldn’t speak well with her or Yuuko, but my mother liked her very much, saying that she was “too good for me.”

“But, is it okay to go on such short notice?”

“It’s okay. The nurses also told me that it is better for the brain to be stimulated by the variety of people who come to the hospital.”

“Okay, I’ll go.” I said.