The Memory of That Day

April 26, 2003.

The amusement park located at the outer edge of the city's outskirts was a favourite weekend getaway among Rakuen's citizens. The place had all kinds of attractions tailor-made for the children – as well as the parents – who frequented them, including games, rides, sideshows, and the like. In fact, it wasn't uncommon for visitors to come over from further away just to see what all the hype was about.

For those who were familiar with the owner, it wasn't too surprising that the place had all but become a local landmark. The park was owned by a beloved and well-respected figure among the denizens of Rakuen who had made a name for herself both as an entrepreneur and as a philanthropist. On one hand was her Pocket Paradise, the chain of arcades and toy stores that could be found at malls and shopping centers all over the city. Not only that, the woman also endeared herself further through her work dedicated towards orphans, juvenile delinquents, and victims of child abuse. As someone from the local paper put it, it didn't take particularly remarkable observation skills for one to note the extent to which Amaki Anri had dedicated herself to children and the youth.

Of course, there was a reason for this.

As the lady herself revealed to the world when she appeared on an episode of a nightly radio program hosted by one of the local DJs, she had been diagnosed with a rare variant of endometrial cancer when she was 29 years old. While she was lucky to have discovered it while still in its early second stage, the variant that had been detected in her body was unusually resistant to medication and chemotherapy to the point of necessitating the removal of her uterus. With that reveal, the underlying motivation for her passions and personal advocacies became all too clear.

As Anri would no longer be able to bear children of her own, it was evident that the businesswoman and philanthropist believed that dedicating herself to the children and the youth of Rakuen was the closest she herself would ever get to motherhood. As she explained on that podcast, it was her brokenness that gave her a purpose in life – and with it, a way through which she could serve others. To that end, she painstakingly designed the Little Elysium Amusement Park so that it would live up to its name among the young ones she held near and dear to her: as a place of amusement for both little children and older youths alike.

That afternoon, however, there was a child at the foodcourt who was anything but happy or amused. On the contrary, the little girl was crying as she sat all by herself at one of the tables with a half-eaten burger, an empty box of French fries, and a medium-sized cup of iced tea. Judging from the lack of anyone coming over to look after her or even comfort her, a bystander would be led to guess that she had somehow gotten herself lost, which was indeed the case.

'Why did everyone leave me?'

Ironically, the little girl had excitedly counted down the days leading up to their trip. After all, it was on that day that their matron would take her and the rest of her fellow orphans so they could go have a fun time at the amusement park. The morning had gone smoothly enough, with them starting the day off in earnest by taking a few rides on the rollercoaster that had some of her peers running straight to the nearest bathroom to throw up as soon as they got off. The next stop after that was the house of mirrors, where they all had their fair share of laughs seeing each other's reflections. After that, their matron bought them hotdog sandwiches from the hotdog stand conveniently located just outside. And from there, they went to the in-house aquarium to look at all the marine animals and then watch the synchronized swimmers do their thing, before finally heading on over to the foodcourt to have lunch.

'Where'd you all go?'

According to their matron, the next stop for them after lunch would be the tiny theater not too far from the horror house, where they would catch a magic show and then a mini-concert staged by one of Rakuen's local amateur bands. Unfortunately for the little girl, her stomach got upset at around quarter to 1, and by the time she made it back to their table, everyone had gone ahead. It didn't get any better, either, when she ran to the mini theater and they were nowhere to be found.

At that point, it was all she could do to go back to the foodcourt and hope that maybe, just maybe, their matron would notice she was missing and come looking for her. But when an hour had passed and still they were nowhere to be found, all the poor girl could do was bury her face in her arms and cry.

"Hey, are you okay?"

The abandoned girl looked up. Seated right across her was a boy around her age, with chestnut brown hair and emerald green eyes, while a cup of barely-eaten chocolate fudge sundae had been placed on the table before her in the meantime. Judging from how the plastic spoon pointed towards him, she presumed the sundae belonged to the boy in front of her.

"Here, you can have my ice cream if you like," he offered. "Sorry to bother you like this. I saw you crying here alone, and I just couldn't help myself."

The girl said nothing for several moments, not quite sure how to react. On one hand, their matron had warned them never to talk to strangers, or to accept anything they might offer her. But this boy she didn't know went out of his way to check on her and comfort her despite not really needing to, and he even went so far as to let her have his ice cream. As she took the frozen treat with shaking hands, she cracked a tearful smile at the kind boy – and, hopefully, the newfound friend – sitting before her.

"I hope you feel better now," he said once she'd finished the ice cream, before getting off the opposite bench in favour of sitting right next to her instead. "I'll stay here while you wait. At least then you won't be alone."

Her head drooped.

"I don't have a family. It's just the matron and the other kids at the orphanage."

"…Oh," the boy replied in a small voice. "I'm sorry."

"Matron said my mommy left me with them one day," the girl went on gloomily as her eyes again welled with tears. "And now matron and the other kids left me, too. Everyone always leaves me in the end."

"I'm here," assured the boy. "That way you won't be so lonely."

Then the boy looked down at his hands as though thinking carefully about something, before he dipped his left hand into one of his side pockets and pulled out a yellow hair ribbon he'd won as a prize after playing air hockey earlier that morning.

"I won it from a game earlier," he said, before he took her right hand in his and placed the ribbon in her open palm. "Here, it's yours now."

"Boys don't wear ribbons, after all, and I think it'd suit you," the boy added further as she tied the ribbon in a bow on her head, before blushing as he smiled brightly at her. "There, you see? I was right, it does look pretty on you!"

With that, the two children sat like that, side-by-side, for a good, long while. Neither of them said a word; she didn't feel like it, while he wasn't sure what subject they could talk about without him coming across as insensitive. Then again, they didn't really need to say anything, either. Silence though it may have been, each was comfortable enough just having someone else with them that they saw no real need to fill the silence with small talk. The boy was satisfied knowing he'd just made a new friend, just as the girl was content just knowing that someone was staying with her simply so she wouldn't be alone anymore.

Before long, an hour had passed. The smile on the girl's face was small, but it was nevertheless a marked improvement from the way she'd been crying earlier. Likewise, the boy had dozed off in the meantime, his head now resting on her shoulder.

"Shugo!"

The girl felt the boy wake with a start. When she looked to see who it was, she saw a man standing at the foodcourt's north entrance. His hair was the same shade of chestnut brown as the boy who now stirred beside her, though the older man's amber eyes contrasted the boy's emerald green. "C'mon! We're heading to the bumper cars next!"

The boy hesitated, not wanting to leave the girl all alone again.

"Furukawa Shugo," the older man repeated in a more authoritative tone, though it was offset to an extent by the half-amused, half-exasperated look on his face. "You get over here right now."

"Right this instant, please, or we're going back to the rollercoaster for another go," he added with a mischievous grin. "You don't wanna spend another ten minutes being sick, do you?"

The boy didn't wait to be told a second time before getting to his feet and running over to the man who could only have been his father. As he reached the halfway point, however, the boy turned back briefly to gaze at the girl who was once again left to sit by her lonesome.

"We'll see each other again," he assured her. "I promise! Then we can hang out for as much as we like!"

With that, both father and son finally departed, leaving the little girl all by herself by the time the matron and the others finally came back for her.

------

Amaki Rena woke up with a start at a quarter past midnight.

'That dream again…'

At the time, the matron and her fellow orphans had called her silly. When Rena told them about the boy she met that day, and about their promise to meet again, the kids responded by voicing their disbelief, with at least one of them teasing her about her supposed imaginary friend.

"I don't see anyone else here," said one of them. "Quit making things up, Rena! You probably just dreamed him up so you wouldn't be alone!"

On the other hand, their matron was much nicer about it. She actually asked Rena who the boy was and whether he was the one who gave her the chocolate sundae she'd all but eaten up by that point, before commenting on the kindness and generosity he showed by keeping her company and then giving her his own cup of ice cream on top of it. But at the same time, this didn't prevent her from expressing doubt that the two children would ever meet again, nor did it dissuade her from warning the little girl not to get her hopes up.

"That could be tricky, seeing as you never even gave him your name," the matron pointed out, albeit in a tone that conveyed genuine concern on her part. "And even if it does happen eventually, it may not be for a while. Are you sure you're not expecting too much, Rena?"

Needless to say, she didn't listen.

Even when Rena grew older and wiser, she continued to cling to the memory of that day. They made a promise, and, much to her vindication, that promise was eventually fulfilled when they finally reunited in middle school a few years ago. And even though the boy who had comforted her in her sadness that day no longer remembered her or their promise by then, she didn't let it get her down. There was at least something in the way he looked at her and regarded her that implied that he at least remembered her on a subconscious level, even if he couldn't quite recall that close encounter from their childhood.

'It's okay, Shugo,' thought Rena as her eyes found the yellow ribbon that laid on her bedside table, before lying back down in her bed to go back to sleep. 'Even if you don't remember, I still do.'

'And soon enough, I know you will, too.'