Sasaki is forty-five, single, and running on fumes. Every night after overtime, he drags himself to Supermarket S for a half-price bento, a pack of Mevius, and one small reason to keep going: Yamada-san, the sweet, smiling part-timer at register two. She's polite, professional, and utterly out of his league—which doesn't stop him from lining up at her lane every single day like a lovesick idiot.
Then, one night behind the store, he discovers the truth.
The Yamada who clocks out is nothing like
Smoking Love Behind Supermarket S - Memories of rainy days and beyond the cigarette smoke
It was raining.
The first rain of October darkened the asphalt and pushed the city's sounds into the distance. Sasaki stepped out of the Genki Trading suburban branch office and opened his umbrella. The cheap rustle of a vinyl umbrella pattered above his head.
(Today, I'll head home early.)
That was the plan—yet his feet carried him, as if by habit, in the opposite direction from Kano Station.
(That store again.)
He knew it himself. Fresh Mart Kano—commonly known as Supermarket S. Lining up at that store's register two had somehow become a small pleasure at the end of a tiring day.
(No, not a pleasure, exactly. It's more like, well, how should I put it.)
Sasaki made excuses in his head.
(I was out of rice crackers. And canned beer, too.)
As he walked, he fumbled in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Mevius Premium. Three left.
(Gotta buy these too.)
Raindrops dripped, one by one, from the edge of his umbrella.
That was when it happened.
A memory surfaced, unbidden.
——
Eight years ago.
Sasaki had still been working at the head office.
Every day he worked until nearly the last train, then trudged to the station, exhausted.
That day, too, it was raining.
A soft, steady drizzle near the end of the rainy season.
He passed through the station gates and set off with his umbrella.
That was when he saw a small figure huddled in a corner of the plaza in front of the station.
(...A girl?)
Soaked by the rain, hugging her knees, shoulders trembling.
She was crying.
Sasaki stopped in his tracks.
(What's wrong, I wonder.)
He hesitated, unsure whether to speak to her.
Would she think he was some creep?
But he couldn't just leave her.
Sasaki approached the girl and gently held out his umbrella.
"...You okay?"
The girl lifted her face.
Wet hair clung to her cheeks.
Big eyes looked up at Sasaki.
They were bright red.
But the moment she saw him, the girl broke into a soft smile.
Smiling through her tears.
"...Thank you. Thank you so much."
That smile was still burned into the depths of Sasaki's heart, even now.
——
(I wonder how that girl is doing now.)
Sasaki walked along the rainy street, lost in thought.
(I hope she's doing well.)
(I just hope she hasn't lost that smile.)
And then, suddenly, it struck him.
(That smile...)
(It's like Yamada-san's smile.)
Sasaki stopped walking.
Under his umbrella, his heart gave a heavy thud.
(No way.)
(But still...)
Sasaki shook his head.
(I'm overthinking it.)
(Eight years have passed. And that girl was much smaller.)
Sasaki started walking again.
But the thought, once planted, refused to leave.
The sound of the rain set his heart rustling.
——
By the time he reached Fresh Mart Kano, the rain had let up a little.
Passing through the automatic doors, he was wrapped in the store's bright lights and the smell of groceries.
(Now then, what should I buy today?)
Sasaki picked up a basket.
But his feet were already heading toward register two again.
(No, no—I've barely started shopping.)
Sasaki tried to reason with himself.
(First, rice crackers, beer, and then...)
He wandered slowly through the store.
——
"Welcome in!"
A bright voice rang out from register two.
Sasaki's chest gave a small, tight squeeze.
(It's Yamada-san.)
Her black hair was gathered at the back of her head, and she wore a green apron.
The name tag on her chest read "Yamada."
A flawless smile.
(She's working hard again today.)
Sasaki watched her from a distance.
Yamada was beaming at the customers.
"Thank you so much! Please come again!"
Hearing that voice, Sasaki's tired heart slowly grew warm.
(Ah, I really am...)
(Saved by that smile.)
Sasaki picked up a bag of rice crackers.
(But that girl from my memory and Yamada-san being the same person...)
(There's no way a coincidence like that exists.)
He repeated it to himself, over and over.
——
After closing time.
The rain still hadn't stopped.
Sasaki walked with his umbrella toward the back entrance of Fresh Mart Kano.
The northwest corner of the parking lot.
Beyond the fence, the lights of the residential neighborhood blurred in the rain.
A cigarette stand and a single bench.
The streetlight was weak, and the area was dim.
When Sasaki arrived, someone was already on the bench.
It was Tayama, her hair down.
Small silver earrings in her ears.
The hood of her black parka pulled down deep.
In her hand, a Pianissimo Menthol.
"...Oh, you came again today, old man."
Tayama noticed Sasaki and her eyes widened just slightly.
"Yeah, well. I just ended up coming."
Sasaki folded his umbrella and sat at the end of the bench.
The distance between him and Tayama was about twenty inches.
(This distance has felt comfortable lately.)
Sasaki pulled out his Mevius Premium.
"Old man, you've got an umbrella, don't you? Didn't you get wet?"
Tayama turned toward him.
"Huh? Oh, well, a little."
Sasaki glanced at his own shoulder.
The right shoulder of his suit was faintly damp.
"What's that? Getting wet even with an umbrella—old man, you're terrible at holding one."
Tayama gave a small laugh.
"W-what? I was holding it normally."
When Sasaki protested, Tayama laughed again.
"Fufu, I'm kidding. You seem kind of spaced out today, old man."
Her words made Sasaki's heart jump.
(She saw right through me.)
(As expected, Tayama-san notices everything.)
"...No, I was just thinking about something."
Sasaki lit a cigarette.
Tayama lit one of hers too.
Their smoke dissolved slowly into the rainy night air.
——
For a while, neither spoke.
Only the sound of the rain settled quietly between them.
Tayama blew a stream of smoke toward the sky.
Sasaki caught a glimpse of her profile.
(...Huh?)
Something deep in his chest thudded again.
(That girl's smile from eight years ago...)
(It overlaps with Tayama-san's profile.)
Sasaki hurriedly looked away.
(No. I'm overthinking it.)
(Why am I like this today?)
He drew deeply on his cigarette.
That was when it happened.
"Hey, old man."
Tayama spoke, quietly.
"Huh? W-what?"
Sasaki's voice cracked a little.
Tayama tapped her ash into the tray.
"Eight years ago, in front of the station—did you ever hold out an umbrella to a girl?"
Sasaki's fingers froze.
The cigarette nearly slipped from his hand.
(Huh?)
(Why?)
(Why bring that up now?)
His heart began pounding at an impossible rate.
"Uh, ah, um, why so suddenly...?"
Sasaki fumbled and nearly dropped his cigarette, catching it just in time.
"Why, you ask—no reason. It was raining today, so it just came to mind."
Tayama seemed not to notice his agitation.
Or perhaps she was pretending not to.
"So? Did you? Or didn't you?"
Tayama stared straight into Sasaki's eyes.
He couldn't escape that gaze.
"...Maybe I did, maybe I didn't."
Sasaki forced the words out.
"What's that? Which is it?"
Tayama pouted.
"No, it's just—it was a long time ago, I don't remember well. I feel like I lent someone an umbrella, but it might be my imagination."
Sasaki stammered.
(The truth is, I remember.)
(I remember clearly.)
(That girl's tearful smile.)
(But I can't say it.)
(If I do, something will change—I can feel it.)
"Hmm."
That was all Tayama said before blowing smoke into the sky.
The white smoke faded slowly into the rainy darkness.
——
Tayama asked nothing more.
Sasaki said nothing either.
But the air between them had shifted from moments before.
(Why did Tayama-san ask something like that?)
Sasaki wondered as he smoked.
(Don't tell me Tayama-san also remembers that day...)
(No, but there's no proof that Tayama-san is that girl.)
Sasaki looked at Tayama's profile once more.
Black hair damp with rain.
Small silver earrings.
Long eyelashes.
(...She looks like her.)
(She looks like that girl.)
His chest tightened.
(I want to know.)
(But I'm afraid to know.)
(If I'm wrong...)
(And if Tayama-san really is that girl...)
(What am I supposed to do?)
Sasaki drew the smoke in deep, deep.
——
Tayama was thinking the same thing.
(He remembers.)
(That day.)
(Saying "maybe I did, maybe I didn't"...)
(He really does remember.)
Tayama twirled her cigarette between her fingers.
(That scruffy-headed salaryman who saved me that day.)
(Maybe that was him.)
(No—I'm sure it was him.)
(That tired face, those kind eyes.)
(He looks exactly like the person from back then.)
Something deep in Tayama's chest grew warm.
(I want to ask.)
(I want to ask if he's the one from that day.)
(But I can't.)
(If I ask, things between us will change—I can feel it.)
(I want to stay just as we are—smoking buddies.)
Tayama stubbed out her cigarette.
"Old man."
Tayama turned toward Sasaki.
"W-what?"
Sasaki's shoulders jerked.
"Why are you so kind to me?"
Tayama's voice was so small it seemed about to dissolve into the rain.
Sasaki was at a loss for words.
(Why am I kind to her?)
(That's...)
(That's because your smile...)
His throat tightened.
"...Because I don't want your smile to disappear."
Sasaki managed to say it.
The words were wrung from the very bottom of his heart.
Tayama's eyes flew wide open.
Her pupils grew moist, moment by moment.
(Ah.)
(That was bad.)
(I made her cry.)
Sasaki panicked.
But Tayama didn't cry.
Instead, she gave a soft laugh.
"Old man, that sounds like a confession."
Her voice trembled, just a little.
"Th-that's not it! I didn't mean it that way! I mean, your work smile, or, how should I put it—"
Heat rushed to Sasaki's face all at once.
"Fufu, I know."
Tayama laughed.
This time, truly amused.
"I think I get what you're trying to say, old man."
With that, she pulled something from her pocket.
A portable ashtray.
The one Sasaki had given her before the inspection.
Tayama clutched it in both hands, as if it were precious.
"...Thanks."
Tayama's small voice melted gently into the sound of the rain.
Sasaki couldn't say anything.
But deep in his chest, something grew warm.
(Ah, I...)
(I want to protect this smile of Tayama-san's.)
(For this smile, I could do anything.)
Sasaki stubbed out his cigarette.
——
"I should head home soon."
Tayama stood up.
"Oh, yeah. Take care."
Sasaki stood too.
"You too, old man. Hold your umbrella properly."
Tayama grinned mischievously.
"...Um, Tayama-san."
Sasaki took the plunge.
"Hm?"
Tayama turned back.
"I'll walk you to the station. It's still raining."
Sasaki held out his umbrella.
"Old man, you've only got one umbrella."
Tayama laughed.
"Oh, no, that's—I mean, so, we could share it..."
Sasaki felt embarrassed at his own words.
(What am I saying?)
(Isn't this basically asking to share an umbrella with her?)
He hurried to take it back.
But before he could, Tayama moved.
"You sure?"
Tayama slipped smoothly under Sasaki's umbrella.
(Huh?)
(Huhhh?)
Sasaki's heart leaped.
Tayama's shoulder brushed lightly against his arm.
"...Then, please."
Tayama said, quietly.
"Oh, yeah, sure."
Sasaki tilted the umbrella toward her.
His own right shoulder grew wet in the rain.
But that didn't matter at all.
(She's close.)
(Tayama-san is close.)
(She smells nice.)
Sasaki's mind was going blank.
——
They walked through the parking lot in silence.
The sound of the rain wrapped around their footsteps.
"The rain won't stop."
Tayama murmured.
"Yeah."
That was all Sasaki answered.
(I don't want it to stop.)
(I want this moment to last.)
That was what he thought.
The short walk to the station.
Yet to Sasaki, it felt like forever.
——
In front of the ticket gates at Kano Station.
"This is fine. Thanks, old man."
Tayama stepped out from under the umbrella.
"Yeah. See you tomorrow, then."
Sasaki folded his umbrella.
"Yeah. See you, old man. Tomorrow."
Tayama waved.
That smile was different from "Yamada's" work smile, and different from "Tayama's" smile at the smoking spot.
(Ah.)
(This is the smile.)
(The smile that girl showed me eight years ago...)
(It must have been a face like this.)
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