Chapter 3 | The Taste of Memories, Updated

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden hue over the familiar back road as Makura and I strolled home from school. Our routine of leaving together had settled comfortably, and today was no exception. Ahead of me, Makura’s steps were light, her figure almost dancing against the vibrant backdrop of the setting sun. Suddenly, she spun around, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Hey, hey, I wanna do something super high school-ish!”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Street food!”

Her answer came without hesitation, as if she’d been waiting for the question all along.

“Street food, huh? Like grabbing a bite somewhere on the way home?”

“Yup, yup! A convenience store, a takoyaki stand, a taiyaki shop, a crepe place—anything! Everyone does it, right?”

“I wouldn’t say everyone,” I replied, scratching my cheek. “But… yeah, the club kids often stop somewhere after practice. Honestly, doesn’t that kinda thing start in middle school?”

“Really?” Makura’s voice softened. “Well, I didn’t go to middle school much, so…”

“Oh…”

A pang of understanding hit me. Makura’s past as an idol during those years meant she’d missed out on a lot of typical school experiences. It made sense that she’d want to chase those moments now, finally free to attend school like any other student.

“Sounds good,” I said with a smile. “Let’s do it.”

“Yay!” She bounced in place, her enthusiasm infectious.

“But where to? Got something specific you wanna eat?”

Makura tilted her head, humming thoughtfully before flashing a mischievous grin. “I wanna go somewhere Manamichi-kun recommends!”

“Me?” I blinked, caught off guard.

“Yup! I’ve only been living here for, like, six months, and I don’t go out much. I’m totally clueless about these back roads.”

“Got it…”

…Her reasoning was fair, but it put me in a tough spot. Truth be told, I wasn’t exactly an expert on the local food scene either. The extent of my “street food” experience was grabbing a pastry at a convenience store after cram school when hunger struck. I racked my brain, trying to think of a place that wouldn’t disappoint her. She’d mentioned takoyaki or crepes, hadn’t she? Closing my eyes, I mentally traced the streets around us.

“…Oh.”

Come to think of it, that place…

Makura reacted to my unintentional murmur, leaning in to peer at my face.

“Ooh, found a good spot?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “How about something cold? It’s a bit of a detour, but it’s off the main road. Nice place.”

“Nice, something cold! I’m excited. Thanks!”

“I’m looking forward to it too.”

It had been a while since I’d been there, but the memory felt vivid as we continued walking. The rice fields gave way to a small pond, its surface reflecting the orange sky. Normally, we’d turn toward the residential area to head to Makura’s house, but today we followed the path along the water. Dragonflies zipped through the air, their wings catching the fading light.

At the end of the sidewalk, a traffic light came into view. There wasn’t much traffic, but we waited patiently for the green signal.

“If you turn at that coin laundry over there,” I said, pointing, “you’ll hit the entrance to a rundown shopping street. Nine out of ten shops are shuttered, and it’s pretty quiet. Know it?”

“Nope.” Makura shook her head. “Is the place we’re going in that shopping street?”

“Not exactly a shop… it’s a food truck, but it should be parked by the entrance.”

That spot hadn’t changed in years. I didn’t come this way often, but the last time I passed by—about a year ago—the truck was right where it always was. Word was the old man who ran it parked it in front of his house to sell his wares. I figured he’d be there today too.

Sure enough, as the faded sign of the shopping street appeared, Makura let out a delighted “Ah!”

“Warabi mochi?” She read the flag fluttering beside the food truck.

“Yeah.”

“No way, awesome! I super wanna eat that!”

With that, she darted toward the truck, and I followed at a steadier pace. The old man behind the counter glanced at us and stood up.

“How many you want?”

One pack, 300 yen. I leaned toward Makura and whispered, “I’ve had the warabi mochi here before. Even one pack’s a lot—more than one person can finish.”

“Then, if it’s okay with you, Manamichi-kun, wanna share?”

I nodded, and we ordered a single pack. The old man lifted the lid of a tub, revealing translucent warabi mochi bobbing in icy water. With a metal strainer, he scooped out a portion, placed it in a white container, and dusted it generously with kinako. After snapping the lid shut and securing it with a rubber band, he slid two bamboo skewers inside and handed it over with a gruff “Here ya go.”

I paid with the change I’d prepared and took the pack.

“I’ll split the cost with you later,” Makura offered.

“Nah, it’s fine,” I waved her off. “You always let me hang out at your place.”

“…Then, thanks for the treat! Thank you!”

We both thanked the old man and started walking back toward the pond. Near the water, we found a small set of stairs and sat side by side.

“Alright! Let’s eat!” Makura’s voice brimmed with anticipation as she took a bamboo skewer from me.

I removed the rubber band and opened the lid, holding the container out to her. “Have some first.”

“Thanks. Let’s eat!”

She speared a piece of warabi mochi and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes widened instantly. “Mmm! Wait, no way. This is crazy good!”

“Yeah? Glad you like it.”

I speared a piece of warabi mochi and popped it into my mouth. The cool, moist texture yielded with a gentle chew, melting away to spread a refreshing sweetness laced with kinako across my tongue.

“It’s good, huh,” I said, glancing at Makura.

“Seriously!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight. “I’ve never had warabi mochi like this! It’s a whole new texture!”

“Totally different from the supermarket stuff, right?”

Makura eagerly took another piece, pressing her hands to her cheeks and kicking her feet in excitement. Her joy was contagious, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Like I said, there’s a lot in here.”

“Right? Let’s take our time.”

“The ton of kinako makes me happy too.”

We sat by the pond, savoring the warabi mochi as the water’s surface shimmered under the setting sun. A gentle breeze stirred, sending ripples across the pond. I found myself thinking that once the air cooled a bit more, the sunset would grow even more vivid. Something about that thought made me look forward to it.

With hardly anyone around, a calm stillness settled over us. For a while, time flowed gently, unhurried.

“Man, street food’s the best, huh?” Makura said, her voice bright.

“This is what you wanted to do, right?”

“Yup! It’s got that high school vibe, and I love it!”

Stopping for street food on the way home from school—it was my first time too, but it felt… nice. Like we were living out a slice of youth. With Makura in her gym clothes, it was less a typical high school detour and more like grabbing a bite after club activities.

…Or is it, really?

I stole a glance at her profile. Her small face, framed by those big eyes and curled lashes, her translucent skin glowing in the fading light—it was almost too perfect, like she didn’t quite belong in this ordinary moment. No other high school girl was like her. The thought made the “high school vibe” fade, replaced by a surreal sense that washed over everything else.

As I drifted into those thoughts, Makura’s voice broke through. “This place is pretty far from school, huh?”

She straightened, glancing back at the quiet street behind us, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

“Yeah, it is.”

“It’s pretty far from your house too.”

I nodded again.

She turned back, her gaze settling on my face with a curious glint. “Do you come here a lot, Manamichi-kun?”

Her question made sense. This wasn’t the kind of place you’d just stumble across without a reason.

“I used to come here a lot,” I admitted.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a playful edge to her expression. “Really? …With who?”

“With who? I mean, I could’ve come alone.”

“This warabi mochi’s too much for one person, right? Would you keep coming back alone to a place where you know you can’t finish it by yourself?”

Makura was sharper than I’d expected. She had a point—I’d never come here alone.

It wasn’t like I was hiding anything, especially not from her. “Yeah… Whenever I came here, my mom was always with me.”

“Oh, your mom, huh.” Her tone carried a faint note of relief, though I wasn’t sure why. Before I could dwell on it, she quickly added, “Got it, got it, so that’s how it was!”

“Yeah. I said ‘used to,’ but it was really when I was little. From preschool to early elementary school. There was this… ability development thing, I guess? Kind of unusual, but there was a special preschool program in the back of that shopping street to train kids’ right brains. I went there once a week.”

“Whoa, that’s intense. As expected of Manamichi-kun.”

“It’s not like it made me who I am or anything. But on the way home, my mom would often buy warabi mochi here.”

“Nice. Sounds like a good memory! This warabi mochi’s a nostalgic taste for you.”

A good memory, huh. Maybe it was. I hadn’t thought about it in years, but I hated that program as a kid. Still, heading to the warabi mochi stall with my mom afterward always felt like a small reward. It was a warm thought, one I hadn’t revisited until today, sitting here with Makura.

“Oh, last piece,” Makura said, pulling my attention back.

I glanced down to see a single piece of warabi mochi left in the container. She gestured for me to take it.

“Nah, you have it.”

“No, no, no, I ate way too many already.”

“But it was good, right? Finish it off.”

“That’s not fair. I was eating two pieces for every one of yours sometimes. And I hogged the kinako too.”

“Really? I don’t mind. I want you to have it.”

“Nuh-uh, you should savor your memory’s taste, Manamichi-kun.”

Her hesitation was rare, and we went back and forth, maybe because I’d shared that piece of my past. Just as I thought she’d given in, Makura reached her skewer toward the pack. But instead of taking it for herself, she deftly picked up the warabi mochi and thrust it toward my mouth.

The cold, soft texture brushed against my lips. I froze, caught off guard.

As I hesitated,

“Ahh~” she teased, her voice playful.

With the mochi already touching my lips, I had no choice but to take it. The skewer grazed my mouth as I did, sending a quick jolt through my chest.

“How’s it taste? Good?” Makura leaned in, her mischievous grin lighting up her face.

I nodded, and she giggled, a soft “Hehehe” escaping her lips.

……Looks like the taste of memories gets an update.

Even after the cold warabi mochi slid down my throat, a faint sweetness lingered in my mouth for a while.

＊

“—Still, that was delicious.”

I stood up, stretching my arms overhead. A satisfying crack rippled through my joints as the tension eased.

“So good! Thanks for showing me the place,” Makura said, hopping to her feet beside me.

It was about time to head home. I glanced at the empty warabi mochi container in my hand, figuring I’d toss it once I got back.

As we started walking, I added casually, “That place turns into a roasted sweet potato stand when it gets a bit cooler.”

Makura spun around so fast I nearly flinched. “For real? Seriously!? Stone-roasted sweet potatoes? Beni Haruka!?”

[T/N: Beni Haruka is a popular, high-quality Japanese sweet potato known for its exceptional sweetness and moist, chewy texture.]

Her enthusiasm caught me off guard, and I stammered, “W-what’s that about?”

“You don’t get it? Q: How does a girl feel when told a sweet potato stand is coming soon? Answer!” she declared, eyes gleaming.

“A quiz!?”

“A test question! This’ll be on the exam!”

“It’s on a test now!? I didn’t study for this.”

“By the way, it’s a literature question. Hint: the season of appetite.”

…Well, even without the hint, I kinda knew the answer. Smiling faintly, I said, “Wanna come back here?”

Makura’s face lit up with a satisfied “Hehehe,” her grin as bright as the fading sunset.