It takes courage to say what has to be said. - Toshikazu Kawaguchi

Depois de tudo que viu e viveu, Reiji hoje se dá conta da relevância do trivial, do simples, do banal, das pequenas coisas cotidianas que quase sempre nos passam despercebidas e que ele considerava como óbvias e perenes, da felicidade e do privilégio de se ter ao lado alguém importante em sua vida. Certas coisas acabam não sendo transmitidas como deveriam quando deixamos para dizê-las no dia seguinte. Mas… e se não houver o dia seguinte? Você empurrou com a barriga e o amanhã não chegou. E agora?

A parent’s love for their child is bottomless. Their children remain children, no matter how old they grow.

The waitress’s name was Kazu Tokita. Kazu was a cousin of the proprietor. She was waitressing while attending Tokyo University of the Arts. She had quite a pretty face, a pale complexion and narrow almond-shaped eyes, yet her features were not memorable. It was the type of face that if you glanced at it, closed your eyes and then tried to remember what you saw, nothing would come to mind. In a word, she was inconspicuous. She had no presence. She didn’t have many friends either. Not that she worried about it — Kazu was the sort of person who found interpersonal relationships rather tedious.