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37 lines
2.3 KiB
Plaintext
37 lines
2.3 KiB
Plaintext
Prologue
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Stories relating to memory always seem to have to do with those moments where you gain something and lose it straight away.
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If you're wondering how I came to write about it, it's hardly the most exciting story.
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That night, I was drinking and killing time at the Uyuu Restaurant when I happened to run into an old friend that I hadn't seen in forever. I don't know when she arrived, but at some point I suddenly noticed her sitting there in one of the booths.
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"My, my, now, who could this be, sitting there in such a good mood, yet drinking all alone?"
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Since she was asking, I thought I might as well mutter something in response:
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"The best liquor comes at the highest price, and sometimes that price is waiting alone."
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"Pff, I've definitely heard that one before... Still as boring as ever, I see."
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Thus remarked the chief editor as she stood there with a liquor cup in hand, looking very enthusiastic about the prospect of having a drink or two.
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"Why not earn yourself some drinking money? It's not like you've got anything better to do."
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"Tonight, though, the drinks are on me."
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She laughed, and reiterated this a couple more times.
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"You're back."
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I watched as the evening breeze brought a few flower petals from the Sacred Sakura and landed them in her cup, making ripples that disturbed the reflection of the moon.
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Overcome by a strong sense of déjà vu, my mouth took it upon itself to proceed with an utterance that would prove to be something of an embarrassment to my brain.
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"You're drunk."
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She didn't look very happy to hear that, and retorted with a firm and defiant tone in her voice.
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But her countenance quickly changed again as she placed her cup down on the table and let out a sigh:
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"I wasn't even born yet when she left."
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And I was still in my youth back then.
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"You must be the only one still able to recite the stories she once told."
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And just like that, I found myself roped into writing for the Yae Publishing House one more time. It's quite amusing, now I think about it.
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To my faithful readers, please don't be upset. This should not be taken to mean that I am committed to no longer writing save for when it becomes a selfish indulgence.
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After all, there's some great liquor that's soon to decrease in price, and I have to make sure I'm prepared. Besides, I have to pay the chief editor back for the wine she so kindly bought me that night.
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