In the quiet commuter town of Aoba, Midori leads a double life—a dedicated nurse on weekdays, and the gentle owner of the café "Green Note" on weekends. To her regulars, she is the warm smile behind the counter, the woman whose chiffon cake is as light as air and whose dimple appears whenever she laughs.
But behind the counter, Midori carries a loneliness she has never spoken aloud. Her husband, Yuuichi, has vanished again—no calls, no messages, just silence stretching into days. It is a patter
Goodnight Punpun Side Story: Midori's Secret - It can't be undone—Sakurajima Airport, the summer where Aiko waits
That's wrong, she thought.
She understood it in her head. She couldn't run anymore. She couldn't make that night into something that never happened.
Midori stared fixedly at her smartphone screen. Blue text lined up across the white display. Plane tickets to Kagoshima. One adult, one child. Her fingertip trembled, just slightly, over the purchase button. The tip of her nail brushed faintly against the glass, then pulled away.
(This is it. I'm really going.)
She'd submitted a leave request at the hospital. The outpatient department head had looked a little surprised — it was rare for Midori to take an extended break. But she hadn't said anything. Just "Take care," and nothing more. Those words lingered strangely in Midori's chest. The dry resonance of the director's voice still echoed somewhere deep in her ears.
She pressed down with her fingertip.
A small tap sounded through the quiet living room.
"Purchase complete."
Mechanical text surfaced on the screen.
Midori exhaled slowly. The air in her lungs seeped out, little by little. Her shoulders dropped, just slightly.
(Now I can't go back.)
(A journey so I won't make that night into nothing.)
(So I can face it properly.)
Morning light slipped through a gap in the curtains. Summer light. Strong, dazzling light. The beam fell straight onto the tatami, its edge sharp and clear along the weave.
"If you're going, I'll handle the preparations."
A voice came from behind her.
Midori didn't turn around. She gripped her smartphone tight. The corner of the device dug into her fingertips. The pad of her thumb went white.
Yuuki stood in the doorway of the living room. A gaunt face behind silver-rimmed glasses. Unkempt short hair, black now beginning to mix with white. His lips were chapped, as always — patches of skin peeling white from his lower lip.
"Luggage, arrangements at the shop — you're not good at that kind of thing, are you."
Yuuki's voice was quiet. But within that quietness, she sensed something desperate. A thin, taut thread ran through the bottom of his voice.
(This man is carrying something too.)
(Just like me — that night.)
Midori smiled, just a little. The corners of her mouth softened on their own. A dimple appeared on her right cheek.
"...Thank you. That helps."
Yuuki nodded. His gaze paused for a moment on the smartphone in her hand. The lenses of his glasses reflected the morning light, white.
"And I'll contact Punpun. I'll tell him you're going to Kagoshima."
Midori shook her head. Her shoulder-length black hair swayed in the soft waves of its loose perm.
"No. I'll tell Punpun myself. I don't have the courage yet, but... he's someone I have to face properly."
Yuuki watched her in silence. Behind his glasses, his eyes narrowed slightly. They looked like they wanted to say something. But in the end, he said nothing. Something moved once in his throat, then stopped.
"...I see. Understood."
That was all he said before heading toward the kitchen. His footsteps receded down the hallway. The creak of the floorboards — one, two — faded away.
Midori lowered her eyes to her smartphone once more.
On the screen, two plane tickets waited quietly.
(I'm going, me.)
(To see that girl.)
(And to meet the real end of that night.)
After closing, Green Note was wrapped in perfect silence.
A small two-story wooden café. The green-toned interior was crowded with potted plants. The twelve seats on the first floor sat hushed, as if the daytime bustle had been a lie. On the counter, the pothos Midori had lovingly raised reflected its glossy leaves under the fluorescent light. One leaf trembled faintly in the air-conditioning.
Outside the window, the summer night dyed the residential backstreets deep indigo.
Midori stood at the counter, finishing the last of the cleanup. She wiped the wood grain over and over with a cloth. The cool feel of the wood settled against her fingertips. No matter how many times she wiped, her hand traveled back and forth over the same spot.
(They'll be here soon.)
(Punpun and Nanjou.)
Something stirred restlessly in her chest.
(What should I say to Nanjou?)
(That I'm taking Punpun to Kagoshima.)
(She definitely won't like it.)
Clang-clang — the doorbell rang.
Midori lifted her head. The hand holding the cloth stopped.
Nanjou was the one who walked in.
Black hair cut clean at the shoulders. Behind thin silver-rimmed glasses, her narrow eyes glinted quietly. A single small mole near her mouth. A dark navy dress wrapped elegantly around her slender frame. Her back was perfectly straight. Her chin lifted slightly.
And half a step behind Nanjou stood Punpun.
A yellow, fluffy head like a chick's doodle. Eyes like black dots. A beak-like pointed mouth. Exactly the same as that rainy night when he'd stood drenched at the front door.
"Good evening, Ookuma-san."
Nanjou spoke in a composed voice. It spread quietly through the air of the shop.
"Good evening. Thank you for coming all this way."
Midori put on a smile. But inside, she was shrunk tight with tension. The muscles in her cheeks twitched slightly.
"Not at all. Punpun said he had something he wanted to talk about with you."
Nanjou glanced at Punpun. Her gaze held something complex — probing, confirming.
Midori came out from behind the counter and stood before the two of them. The floorboards pressed hard against the soles of her feet.
"Um, Punpun. I've decided to go to Kagoshima. To see Aiko."
Midori looked straight at Punpun. The dot-like black eyes stared back at her.
"And... I want you to come with me. I want you to meet Aiko too."
Midori's voice trembled, just a little. The end of her sentence fell into the air without fully dissolving.
(Please.)
(Come with me.)
(Because alone, I know I'll run away.)
Punpun was silent for a while.
The air in the shop pulled taut.
The leaves of the potted plants swayed faintly in the air-conditioning. The tip of a pothos leaf quivered.
(Is it a no?)
(Am I just being a burden?)
Midori's heart pounded like a warning bell. The beat echoed deep in her ears.
(He's with Nanjou.)
(And I'm trying to take him away.)
(I know it's selfish.)
But she couldn't back down.
This was her reckoning.
So that night wouldn't become nothing.
Punpun gave a small nod.
"...Yeah."
A tiny voice, like a soliloquy.
But it reached Midori's chest clearly.
(Thank goodness.)
(He'll come.)
Midori let out a breath of relief. The tension drained from her shoulders. Strength seeped out of her fingertips.
Then Nanjou stepped forward. The soles of her shoes made a small sound against the floor.
"...I see. Understood."
Nanjou's voice was quiet. But something inexpressible flickered faintly across her face. The mole near her mouth moved slightly.
(Does she look lonely?)
(Or is she angry?)
Midori couldn't tell.
Nanjou looked at Punpun.
"Take care. Punpun."
With just that, Nanjou turned on her heel. Her hair bounced slightly against her shoulders.
"Ah, Nanjou-san..."
Midori called out without thinking.
(I have to say something.)
(But what?)
(Thank you? I'm sorry?)
Nanjou stopped. But she didn't turn around. Her back faced the door, straight and true.
"Be careful. ...Both of you."
With those words left behind, Nanjou opened the door and disappeared into the night alley.
Clang-clang — the doorbell rang again.
The sound echoed strangely loud through the shop. Its reverberation was swallowed into the ceiling beams.
Even after Nanjou's back was out of sight, Midori stood staring at the door for a while. Beyond the glass, the indigo night spread wide.
(Did I do something wrong?)
(I couldn't say anything to Nanjou.)
(What is she to Punpun?)
(I don't understand.)
Midori slowly turned back toward Punpun.
Punpun stood there, unchanged.
The dot-like black eyes looked up at her.
"...Shall we go, Punpun? Tomorrow's early, so let's head home and rest for today."
Midori spoke in the gentlest voice she could manage.
Punpun nodded again.
Inside the plane, it was cool.
Midori sat by the window, gazing at the scenery outside.
A sea of clouds, stretching in every direction.
White, fluffy clouds continued on and on, endlessly. Sunlight reflected off their surface, dazzling.
(Beautiful.)
(Almost enough to make me forget everything.)
Midori narrowed her eyes. The afterimage of the light lingered on the backs of her eyelids for a while.
In the seat beside her, Punpun gazed out the window in the same way, without a word. His yellow, fluffy head was faintly reflected in the window glass.
(What is Punpun thinking?)
(About Aiko?)
(About Nanjou?)
(Or about me?)
Midori stole a glance at Punpun's profile.
The dot-like black eyes, as always, revealed no emotion.
But she felt they were looking, just slightly, at something far away.
(I'll try asking Aiko.)
(Whether she knows about him.)
Midori steeled herself and spoke.
"Hey, Punpun. What kind of girl is Aiko? You know her, don't you?"
Punpun slowly turned toward Midori.
But he said nothing.
He simply shook his head. The fluffy head swayed slightly.
(Does that mean he doesn't know?)
(Or that he doesn't want to talk about it?)
Midori couldn't bring herself to ask any more.
(I'll stop forcing it out of him.)
(He has his own circumstances too.)
Midori looked out the window again.
The sea of clouds was gradually thinning.
The in-flight announcement said they would soon arrive at Kagoshima Airport.
Midori felt something tighten in her chest with a small sound.
(We'll be there soon.)
(I'll get to see Aiko.)
(The girl who knows about that night.)
A line from Aiko's letter surfaced in her mind.
*Ookuma-san, do you remember that night?*
(I remember.)
(I've never forgotten, not once.)
(That night is my sin.)
Midori clenched both hands on her knees.
Her nails dug into her palms.
It hurt, a little.
But that pain calmed the restlessness in her heart, if only slightly.
The lobby of Kagoshima Airport was bright with summer sunlight.
Beyond the large glass windows, a majestic mountain was visible.
Sakurajima.
The same Sakurajima that had been in the photo Aiko sent.
White smoke rose slowly from the summit. Against the blue sky, the white plume stood out sharply.
(Just like that photo.)
(Aiko is here.)
Midori walked closer to the window and gazed at Sakurajima.
The summer sun stung her skin through the glass.
(I've come.)
(I've really come.)
(I can't turn back now.)
Midori took a deep breath.
The dry airport air flowed into her lungs.
(I'll face it.)
(I won't make that night into nothing.)
(I'll look at all of it, properly.)
Midori slowly opened her eyes.
Sakurajima spread large across her vision.
"Punpun, there should be someone here to pick us up..."
Midori spoke to Punpun.
Punpun stood beside her. His yellow, fluffy head stood out conspicuously in the lobby crowd.
(Where is she?)
(Aiko said she'd come to meet us.)
Midori scanned the lobby.
Travelers, families, businessmen.
All kinds of people passed back and forth. The wheels of carry-on cases made small sounds against the tile floor.
But there was no sign of a girl who looked like Aiko.
(Maybe she hasn't come yet.)
Midori took out her smartphone and checked the time.
The agreed time had long since passed.
(What should I do?)
(Should I try calling?)
Just then, a voice came from behind her.
"Excuse me, are you Ookuma Midori-san?"
Midori turned around.
An elderly woman stood there.
Perhaps in her sixties. Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back neatly. A gentle face etched with deep wrinkles. But her eyes looked somehow tired. Faint shadows lay beneath her lids.
She wore a summer kimono in subdued colors.
"Yes. I'm Ookuma..."
Midori answered, a little bewildered.
"I'm Aiko's aunt. My name is Miyata. Aiko asked me to come and meet you."
The woman who called herself Miyata bowed politely. The line of her back folded cleanly.
(Aiko's aunt?)
(Aiko herself didn't come?)
A small unease budded in Midori's
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