Engaged in the Moment

Meeting, Regularly Because his drum was left in my room, his return was already promised. But it was irregular, never according to plan. I often asked, “Can we set a schedule?” He would only answer, “Yeah,” but nothing was ever decided. Somehow, Joe always appeared at the right moment. That’s why I never once refused his sudden visits. Perhaps that was the greatest way I spoiled him. This Wednesday was the very first planned event! Luckily, the weather seemed to exist just for us. We packed our things and headed for the deck. Joe’s vision was clear, Beat - Shadow - Light. The beat was his sticks. The shadow was my art—paper-cut faces. The light was the lanterns. 約束されたミーテイング 彼のドラムは私の部屋に置いてあったから、彼がまた来ることは約束されていた。 でもそれは不規則で、決して予定通りではなかった。 私は何度も「スケジュールを決められる？」と聞いたけれど、 彼は「うん」と答えるだけで、本当には決まらないままだった。なぜか、ジョーはタイミングの良い時に現れた。 だから、彼の突然の訪問を断ったことは一度もない。それが一番彼を甘やかしてしまったようだ。 この水曜日は予定した初めてのイベント！幸運にも、天気も良く私たちのためにあるようだった。私たちは荷物をまとめて、桟橋へ向かった。 ジョーの考えははっきりしていた。ビート・影・光。  ビートは彼のスティック 影は私のアート、切り紙の顔 光は...

 Two days later “What are you doing? Can we meet? Two hours?” Akine: “Yes.” He arrived carrying a single drum. “Friend of yours?” Akine asked. “Today, let’s try it with the drum,” Joe said. Today he seemed composed, strikingly handsome. In the room, piano music played in the background. “Joe Sample,” Joe said. “Yes, the other Joe. His piano paints landscapes — a winter sea,” Akine replied. Joe sat on the “resting chair” and gently touched the rim. A simple practice. Timer set: sixty seconds on, ten seconds off. The rim’s click called out, scissors answered. Slow at first. They slipped, laughed, began again. The timing of completion — the work itself decided. 二日後 ジョー「今なにしてる？ 会える？ 二時間後？」 秋音「うん。」 彼は太鼓をひとつ持って現れる。 「友だち？」と秋音。 「今日はドラムで、やってみよう」 今日の彼はすっと整って、格好よく見える。 部屋にはピアノミュージックのバックサウンド。 「ジョー・サンプルだ」とジョー。 「そう、もう一人のジョー。彼のピアノには風景がある。冬の海」と秋音。 ジョーは“休憩椅子”に腰をおろし、リムをそっと鳴らす。 シンプルなプラクティス。 タイマーをセット。六十秒オン、十秒オフ。 リムのクリックが呼び、ハサミが応える。 最初はゆっくり。ずれて、笑って、もう一度。 作品が仕上がるタイミングは、作品が決める。 He stepped c...

It is ok, works.  A few weeks have passed since the opening. Akine was invited by the writers she had met that night to visit them at their ateliers on weekdays and attend other galleries and events on weekends. Her days stayed busy, and she told herself it was fortunate: no time to dwell on Joe, or on the silence that lingered since. These three months became precious to her. Even if her plans ended as nothing more than plans, that was fine. She reasoned. Still, unease gnawed at her.  I am lucky, she repeated to herself. She reminded herself that Joe did not consume her; instead, she was filled with the power of creation, which was the point. And yet she could not deny it: his unshakable presence seeped into her work. The aftertaste of a rhythm she should not be able to hear remained in her chest. Memory does not build a prison, it becomes nourishment. a guide,  whispered. それはそれで良い オープニングから数週間が過ぎた。 秋音はあの夜に出会った作家たちに誘われ、平日はアトリエに呼ばれ、週末は別のギャラリーやイベントへと出かけていた。 忙しい日々のおか...

Shopping Together  The supermarket was small, wedged between a bakery and a drugstore. Inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed, casting their pale glow across the neat rows of cans and bottles. “What do we need?” Joe asked. “Everything… so many things. Daily necessities, basic food… but it’s hard to find, and I don’t even know what’s good here.” “What’s that one?” she wondered aloud. Akine rose onto her toes, reaching for a box on the top shelf. Almost… but not quite. As she tried again, Joe’s arm brushed past hers. He reached up easily, pulled the box down, and dropped it into her basket. “Thank you,” she said, glancing up at him. Joe only shrugged, as if it were nothing. But Akine understood: what was simple for him carried real weight for her. “Is there anything you’d like, Joe? I don’t really keep much at home… so if you want something, just say.” And as the words slipped out, her heart raced. He’s coming to my place. Am I teasing him? Provoking him? “Ice cream,”...

 Joe’s message arrived suddenly. “Can I see you?” Akine looked at her phone, hesitated only a second, and typed back a single word. “Yes.” “When?” “In a couple of hours,” Joe replied.  “I’ll come by.” ジョーからのメッセージは突然だった。 「会える？」 秋音はスマホを見つめ、ほんの一瞬だけ迷ったあと、一言だけ打った。 「うん。」 「いつ？」 「二時間後くらい。」とジョー。 「迎えに行くよ。」 Joe: “Where do you want to go?” Joe: “…The water’s edge？” Akine nods. They walk. At first apart. Then their steps fall in sync, as if pulled by something unseen. No plan. Just side by side. The road toward the river. Joe looks at her. Suddenly, bold: “…A kiss.” Akine doesn’t answer. Their lips meet — slow, unhurried like the greeting of old friends. Joe: “Let’s walk a little more. The view’s better over there.” Akine: “Do you come here often?” Joe: “I sit on that rock. Think.” Joe: “The sunset here… worth more than anywhere else.” He pulls her close. This kiss is deeper, searching. Her tension eases. She surrenders to it, surprised at herself. Silence. Heavy wit...

Unbearable Pull The two began to walk side by side toward Akine’s apartment. No words, only the sound of footsteps on the night’s stone path. Akine glanced at Joe from the corner of her eye. The shadow swaying past his shoulder seemed to echo her heartbeat. Joe opened his mouth once, then closed it again, keeping the silence between them. A faint breeze brushed past, drawing them closer. For an instant, their hands nearly touched. At that moment, their eyes met. No words were needed. Within the quiet, both knew what would come next. Joe stepped closer, silent. His hand touched her cheek — and she could not turn away. The kiss was gentle, warm, carrying years already lost and the weight of a night that might never return. A stranger, yet suddenly— as if he had always been there. When their lips parted, his smile was small and soft. 抵抗できない何かが 二人は秋音のアパートへと並んで歩き出した。 言葉はなく、夜の石畳に響く足音だけがあった。 秋音は横目でジョーを見た。 彼の肩越しに揺れる影が、自分の鼓動と重なっているように思えた。 ジョーも一度口を開きかけては、閉じ、 沈黙を守った。 か...