Chapter 111: Drunkenness

Masayoshi Kishimoto showed up at the Miki Bookstore with his things. He met Natsui Makoto who was about to close. As soon as he reached out, he handed her the two paper bags with the boxes of pastries along with the MP3s.

Natsui Makoto smelled the strong odor of alcohol emanating from his body and it was clear that he should have consumed a lot of alcohol during the night. As she took the things into her hands, she knowingly asked, “Have you been drinking?”

“Drinking. Just a moment ago after accompanying a company client, I’m here with you now.” Masayoshi Kishimoto said bluntly.

Natsui Makoto looked at him in a state where he looked like he was about to collapse, and was uneasy about him being alone. This was Ueno, not only were there a lot of people, but there were also a lot of cars. Wouldn’t it be good if something happened? Even if he had fallen asleep on the street with a hangover, it wouldn’t be good.

“You go wait for me outside on top of the bench. I’ll come out once I’ve changed.” Natsui Makoto said as she handed back what she had received.

Masayoshi Kishimoto responded with an ‘okay’ before turning around and heading out of the store. He was already drunk, so he seemed a bit wobbly as he walked.

Masayoshi Kishimoto found an empty bench not far from the door of the Miki Bookstore. As soon as he put down the things in his hands, he turned around and sat down on his butt, leaning his back against the back of the chair.

People who drank too much often instinctively appeared to want to sleep as soon as they sat down again, and he was no exception. He tried and tried not to let his eyes close, but he couldn’t help but have his eyelids fight and be out of his control.

Makoto Natsui could already hear Masakane Kishimoto snoring as she changed out of her Miki Bookstore coveralls and redressed into her own civilian clothes to walk over to Masayoshi Kishimoto.

It wasn’t like she could just leave him here unattended. Although she knew Masayoshi Kishimoto, she didn’t know where he lived.

Makoto Natsui couldn’t just sit there and keep him company, so she called a colleague from the bookstore who had just gotten off work to help her. She stopped a cab on the side of the road, then took his things and helped him into the back seat of the car.

A drunken man who falls asleep is like a puddle of mud. Masayoshi Kishimoto’s weight of a hundred pounds or so was a real struggle for the two girls who were assisting him.

Natsui Makoto first thanked the colleagues who helped him before sitting on the passenger side of the cab, heading towards the place he rented.

It was just before 9:30 p.m., which wasn’t too late, and it was the time when the nightlife had just started. The men and women who go to nightclubs are all dressed up in fashion and glamorous out.

The office workers also began to gradually leave work one after another, either going to drink in twos and threes to de-stress, or walking towards the subway or bus station to go home with their tired bodies.

The cab driver followed Natsui Makoto’s instructions and parked the car under the building he rented. The building she rented was neither an elevator apartment nor a multi-story, but one of those early wooden houses that used to have two floors above and below, lined up with tenants, the ones RB called squatters. According to the Chinese, group quarters.

In addition to the relatively cheap rent, such houses were generally located on the edges and in more remote places. The soundproofing of the houses is also not very good. Anyone who moved a little louder next door would be able to hear everything clearly.

Natsui Makoto lived on the second floor and was unable to get Kishimoto Masayoshi up there by herself. She had to ask the driver to help her, and together they were able to get him into the tatami room he was staying in.

After paying the fare and thanking the driver again for his help, Natsui returned home with her things. Once she closed the door to her room, she looked at Masayoshi Kishimoto, who was lying flat on the tatami mat, and a thought suddenly popped into her head: how did she get him home?

Natsui Makoto shook her head at the thought. On second thought, she had gotten him home. How could she not get him out again?

It was the first time in all her life that she had been alone in a room with a man like this. She came to Kishimoto Masayoshi’s side, and even removed the shoes from his feet with her own hands.

Worried that he might catch a cold if he lay like this, Natsui Makoto found the same quilt she had covered him with during the night and covered him with it. His own pillow was placed under his head.

As she sat down on her knees and rested, she placed the items beside her on the small wooden round table, and took out the contents of the paper bag one by one to look at them.

Natsui Makoto had never even heard of this kind of thing existing in this world, not to mention never having seen an MP3.

She opened the outer carton and took out the contents and looked at them again and again, but she had no idea what they were for.

So, Natsui Makoto put the MP3 to one side and didn’t pay any more attention to it. She took the 16-panel wooden box containing the small pastries out of another paper bag and placed it on the small round table.

Pulling it open like a drawer, the delicate pastries were arranged one by one into the small compartments.

Her right hand index finger pointing to the inside of the small compartment counted up one, two, three …… sixteen. The small snacks inside each small compartment are not the same.

Natsui Makoto didn’t directly use them to eat, but instead looked at them with fascination. For her in the moment, it was also a kind of enjoyment, after all, it looked so high-class that she couldn’t bear to eat it.

She picked up the paper bag containing it, and took a good look at the two kanji characters for “Joy” printed on it. Instantly, she felt that the paper bag in her hand became more advanced.

After Natsui Makoto had looked at it enough, she put it down and turned to look at Kishimoto Masayoshi, who was lying asleep on the tatami mat. In her mind, she then began to weigh and compare.

They were both non-Tokyo born, foreigners from Upper Kyoto. She worked part-time at a bookstore, while he worked at a small company.

She herself was not an official member of the company, nor was she a dispatched employee, working as a temporary laborer and receiving an hourly wage. As for him? I don’t know if he’s an official member of the society or not.

If he is, it’s best. If he wasn’t, it didn’t matter. For her, life was probably just this kind of bolded misery. After a long time, she became numb.

Natsui Makoto only wanted to find her own small happiness, and then she could be satisfied. As for material things, she did not have too much extravagance.

Her own colleagues to participate in networking activities, is just want to find a better man, especially the financial independence to support the wife and children and home.

Natsui Makoto only wanted to find a man whom she liked and who liked her. As for the annual income, it became less important.

She had been in Tokyo for almost a year. The most intuitive feeling that Tokyo people gave her was indifference. They would show indifference to things that were not their own.

This was probably due to the fact that living in an internationalized metropolis, the pressure of survival was so great that the ordinary people living here were not only in a hurry, but also often felt physically and mentally exhausted, so they didn’t have more energy and time to pay too much attention to other things.