Correspondence: A Japanese Epistolary Novella 2-2

Second Exchange　part 2

Takeshi's letter

Thank you for the book.

You truly are a goddess.

I’ve placed it in the most sacred spot on my bookshelf.

I swear I’ll never take it into the bathroom again.

I feel like bringing you a mountain of sweet bean daifuku.

I’m sorry for worrying you, but things with my father have settled down since then.

Even he seems to realize he went too far and is reflecting on it.

Taking advantage of that, I now speak to him only when absolutely necessary.

That should keep the storm at bay for a while.

Of course, I’ve made sure your book is kept out of sight.

Reading your letter brought back some nostalgic memories.

Do you remember Yoshida from our third year of junior high?

His father was a city council member, and he acted all high and mighty, which made everyone dislike him.

He wasn’t a bad person, just stubborn and unable to be honest, often putting on an unpleasant attitude.

Looking back, he was just awkward.

Rumors grew exaggerated, and no one wanted to go near him.

But you were the only one who spoke to him normally.

That only worsened his reputation.

Even so, you gradually softened his heart and those of our classmates, and by graduation, the class had truly come together.

It was clear in the yearbook.

In the individual photo taken in April, he looked sullen and withdrawn, but on the final page from the graduation ceremony, he was smiling brightly as part of the class.

That transformation was thanks to you.

I’ve never told you this, but in our first year of high school, I happened to run into him at the station.

Unlike us, he didn’t bike to a local school—he commuted by train to a school far away, so we rarely saw him.

Yoshida asked how our old classmates were doing.

Unusually talkative, he listed names one by one, and finally, as if he’d almost forgotten, he mentioned your name—like it was an afterthought.

But even with that casual tone, he couldn’t hide his feelings.

I pretended not to notice and simply said you were doing well.

For a moment, I felt like a coward.

But I couldn’t help it.

There’s no room for anything else.

I’ve strayed from the main topic, but you really do have a gift for seeing the good in people.

I’m sure you’ll get along with your colleague Iizuka, and knowing you, you’ll probably clear up any misunderstandings at work too.

Now that the rainy season has ended, the sun has suddenly grown intense.

But I haven’t tanned at all—I’ve been holed up at home, drawing manga nonstop.

Still, there’s been a small change in my life.

A professional manga artist has hired me as an assistant.

The artist lives in the next town over, about forty minutes by bike.

It’s been incredibly educational.

Because of that, my days have become very busy.

After returning from assistant work in the early morning, I dive into my own projects.

The inspiration I get from the studio overflows into new ideas as I pedal home—I can’t help but draw.

My schedule has become so irregular that I keep breaking the rules I set for myself—like waking up on time and eating meals properly.

But strangely enough, I’m more productive now than ever.

I’m working hard to submit to the next rookie contest, aiming for the grand prize this time.

And so, my letter to you ended up being quite delayed.

Will you be coming back here for summer break?

I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.

Takeshi Kitahara

July 18, Showa50(1975)

Takeshi's letter

To You, So Gentle and Kind

Thank you for the book.

You truly are a goddess.

I’ve placed it in the most sacred spot on my bookshelf.

I swear I’ll never take it into the bathroom again.

You lowered a spider’s thread to Kandata, who had fallen into hell for the sin of leaving behind a precious book—perhaps you’re not a goddess, but the Buddha himself.

I feel like bringing you a mountain of sweet bean daifuku.

I’m sorry for worrying you, but things with my father have settled down since then.

Even he seems to realize he went too far and is reflecting on it.

Taking advantage of that, I now speak to him only when absolutely necessary.

That should keep the storm at bay for a while.

Of course, I’ve made sure your book is kept out of sight.

It sounds like you’re surrounded by many people at your new workplace.

Reading your letter brought back some nostalgic memories.

Do you remember Yoshida from our third year of junior high?

His father was a city council member, and he acted all high and mighty, which made everyone dislike him.

He wasn’t a bad person, just stubborn and unable to be honest, often putting on an unpleasant attitude.

Looking back, he was just awkward.

Rumors grew exaggerated, and no one wanted to go near him.

But you were the only one who spoke to him normally.

Instead of being grateful, he mocked you in front of everyone.

That only worsened his reputation.

Even so, you gradually softened his heart and those of our classmates, and by graduation, the class had truly come together.

It was clear in the yearbook.

In the individual photo taken in April, he looked sullen and withdrawn, but on the final page from the graduation ceremony, he was smiling brightly as part of the class.

That transformation was thanks to you.

I’ve never told you this, but in our first year of high school, I happened to run into him at the station.

Unlike us, he didn’t bike to a local school—he commuted by train to a school far away, so we rarely saw him.

Yoshida asked how our old classmates were doing.

Unusually talkative, he listed names one by one, and finally, as if he’d almost forgotten, he mentioned your name—like it was an afterthought.

But even with that casual tone, he couldn’t hide his feelings.

I pretended not to notice and simply said you were doing well.

For a moment, I felt like a coward.

I’ve always given everything I have just to keep you to myself.

There’s no room for anything else.

I’ve strayed from the main topic, but you really do have a gift for seeing the good in people.

I’m sure you’ll get along with your colleague Iizuka, and knowing you, you’ll probably clear up any misunderstandings at work too.

Now that the rainy season has ended, the sun has suddenly grown intense.

But I haven’t tanned at all—I’ve been holed up at home, drawing manga nonstop.

Still, there’s been a small change in my life.

A professional manga artist has hired me as an assistant.

The editor who contacted me after I won honorable mention in last year’s rookie contest introduced me.

The artist lives in the next town over, about forty minutes by bike.

It’s been incredibly educational.

I’ve picked up many techniques over the past few weeks, though there’s still much to learn.

Because of that, my days have become very busy.

After returning from assistant work in the early morning, I dive into my own projects.

The inspiration I get from the studio overflows into new ideas as I pedal home—I can’t help but draw.

I barely sleep before heading to my part-time job, then take a short nap and go back to assist again.

My schedule has become so irregular that I keep breaking the rules I set for myself—like waking up on time and eating meals properly.

But strangely enough, I’m more productive now than ever.

I’m working hard to submit to the next rookie contest, aiming for the grand prize this time.

If I lose to Usagiya’s sweets, then disappointing my father would have been for nothing.

And so, my letter to you ended up being quite delayed.

Will you be coming back here for summer break?

I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.

Takeshi Kitahara

I’m sorry for worrying you, but things with my father have settled down since then.