Chapter 73: Questions.

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Translated and Edited by: luccayn.

Common Honorifics:
-san: A polite suffix, but not excessively formal.
-kun: A common suffix among friends and younger people.
-chan: A common suffix among people you're close with, mostly used for feminine nicknames and girls, since it's cutesy and childlike.
-senpai: A common suffix and noun used to address or refer to one's older or more senior colleagues in a school, workplace, dojo, or sports club.

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Tsukino’s POV

The izakaya “Youko” stood quietly in the back alleys of the city.

Surrounded by karaoke snack bars and what appeared to be newly opened girls’ bars, the area seemed to send a message like, “Come have a meal at Youko before heading out for some fun.”

And as for the shop itself—

“It’s closed.”

Just as Miki-chan said, a laminated A4 sheet of paper was taped to the door, with thick marker writing that read: “Due to various circumstances, we are closing. Thank you for your long-time patronage.”

“‘Various circumstances’… what could that mean?”

“This handwriting—it’s Shinji's, isn’t it? The place hasn’t been cleared out yet, so maybe he’s still around.”

After Yamakawa-kun's words, I couldn’t suppress my sense of urgency and knocked three times on the lattice door. But as expected, there was no response. From the dim interior of the shop, not even a single sound could be heard.

“Hey, the electricity meter is still running. The fridge must be on.”

“Which means… Takatsuki is inside?”

“I don’t know. For now, let’s ask someone around here—”

Before he could finish, I checked the door, and with a rattling sound, it opened. Inside, the air carried the rich aroma of oil and umami, characteristic of eateries. There wasn't a trace of uncleanliness. At the same time, there was no sign of anyone’s presence.

“Is it really okay for us to go in?”

“Of course, it is. We have the right to know.”

Encouraged by Yamakawa-kun's words, I stepped inside.

The shop had a counter with six seats extending toward the back. Behind it was the kitchen, equipped with a stove, a grilling groove for yakitori, and a large burner. Behind the counter, three table seats were arranged. For a machiya-style establishment, it was of standard size.

“It’s been kept in remarkable condition. Look at this sink—it’s so polished it looks brand new.”

“Over here, there’s a framed photo and white flowers. This old man must be the master of the shop.”

“So he passed away… Could that be the ‘various circumstances’ mentioned on the notice?”

Indeed, on a shelf at the back of the shop, a vase with white flowers had been placed. Beside it, a box of fresh yatsuhashi and a bottle of local sake—a gift that Shinji had agonized over choosing for the master just before returning from the school trip.

In other words, the master had passed away during our trip.

“Did he have any family?”

“No… Shinji-kun said he started working here after the proprietress passed away, so I think he was alone. That's probably why Shinji-kun has been so busy these past few days with the cremation and settling his affairs.”

As we were talking, the shop door suddenly opened. I flinched, my mind racing with possible excuses as I turned around. Standing there was a stout middle-aged man. His hands were empty—perhaps he had just returned from handling some paperwork.

“Huh? What are a bunch of high schoolers doing here?”

He spoke to us with a gentle expression. Seeing how calmly he took a seat, I figured he must have the key to the shop. He was clearly someone involved.

“S-Sorry. We’re friends of Takatsuki-kun, who worked here.”

“Ah, I figured. Come on in. Shinji left three days ago.”

“Three days ago?”

“Yeah. He probably wanted to leave for his journey sooner, but he insisted on staying until the very end, saying, ‘I want to see this through.’ So, he stayed until the cremation was done.”

“What do you mean by ‘journey’? What is worth quitting school for?!” Without thinking, I raised my voice, skipping over every step of the conversation. But the man didn't seem surprised. Instead, he gestured for me to calm down.

“…For now, have a seat. But, I see… so Shinji really did drop out. That kid… he’s so damn clumsy.”

A sigh.

In that breath, I sensed his understanding of the situation—the weight of his concern. Now that it had been said, it was the first time I truly realized it myself: I had never thought of Shinji-kun as clumsy before.

The man introduced himself as Tsukaji-san, a regular at Youko who lived nearby. He picked up a glass from the shop, took a bottle of green tea from the fridge, poured it, and handed one to each of us.

“Thank you.”

I accepted it and took a sip to calm myself. When we all set our glasses down, Tsukaji-san slowly began to speak.

“Alright then. What do you guys want to know? I don't think I know much, but I'll tell you whatever I can.”

That answer meant he didn't know where Shinji-kun had gone. In that case, we should at least ask about Shinji-kun’s time working here—perhaps there would be some clues.

“Well, if I had to sum him up in one word, he was a hard worker. Master Daisuke was blunt and barely spoke a word, so Shinji learned to help out however he could—teaching himself how to cook and serve customers. I was surprised when he suddenly started making food here.”

“He made all those dishes… by himself?”

I was the only one who had tasted his cooking, so I had to ask.

“Not all of them. He said he learned a lot from Sachi-san’s repertoire. Apparently, when he was in elementary school, he liked cooking with her when she got back from volunteering at a retirement home.”

“Sachi-san?”

“Shinji's foster parent. Takatsuki Sachi. She was a friend of Youko-san, who took in Shinji despite having no blood relation.”

Now that he mentioned it, I recalled Shinji telling me how he started working here—how he met the master through her and how he decided to stay and work because the shop's atmosphere had darkened.

“Why did Sachi-san take Shinji-kun in?”

“Why? Well, when you see a four or five-year-old shivering in the snow, any decent adult would help. Of course, Sachi-san was also just a downright good person.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Oh? You haven't heard? Maybe I shouldn't have said that…”

A sense of unease crept in. If I heard this story, I had a feeling I might want to lock Shinji-kun away somewhere safe so he would never be hurt again.

“Please, tell us. We want to know about Shinji. He never talks about himself to us.”

At Yamakawa-kun's words, Tsukaji-san fell into deep thought. But after a few moments, perhaps worn down by our silent pressure, he nodded a few times and began to speak…

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