The image of Shuichi standing tall and looking prouder than anyone else remains in my memory to this day.

#nana56b


Synopsis

“Hey, we’ve gotta make it to the top in Japan,
right?”

In the classroom after school, with the afternoon
sun streaming in, someone blurted out that
out-of-the-blue remark—and it sealed the deal for
our summer vacation.

The three of us, myself included, were typical
sports fanatics. We’d get covered in mud chasing
after a ball, and our bodies moved before our
brains could process complicated strategies. But
the fourth guy, Shuichi, was different. He was
naturally slender, and his athletic ability was,
to put it mildly, nothing to write home about.
Even during recess, he was the type to sit a little
ways away from our rowdy antics, quietly smiling as
he watched us.

“Shuichi, you should just skip this. Climbing Mount
Fuji is going to be a death march.”

I didn’t mean any harm. I was just genuinely
worried. For a split second, Shuichi looked sad, as
if he’d been struck in the chest, and said,
“…You’re right. I don’t want to be a burden,”
he said with a weak smile.

That night, I got a phone call at my house. It was
from Shuichi’s mom.
“…I know he’s being selfish. But I really, really
want to show him that view. Could you please take
him with you?”

Her voice, coming through the receiver, trembled as
if she were praying. I was a little taken aback, but,
moved by her earnestness, I promised to convince the
other two.

The next morning, when I arrived at school, Shuichi
ran up to me with an apologetic look.
“Sorry about that. My mom made that weird call
yesterday, didn’t she? Don’t worry about it.”
“What are you talking about? Let’s go together—all
four of us.”
When I said that, Shuichi broke into a beaming
smile. It might have been the first time I’d ever
seen him look so happy.

The long-awaited summer vacation. On the bus
heading for the fifth station, we were all buzzing
with excitement. Shuichi, who usually kept to
himself, was talking the loudest and getting the
most excited.

The sixth station, the seventh station. As the path
grew steeper, Shuichi’s breathing became heavier.
We naturally slowed our pace and climbed at his
speed. The instant curry we ate at the mountain hut
at the eighth station tasted better than any
gourmet meal.
“I hope it’s sunny tomorrow so we can see the
sunrise.”
As we crawled into our sand-stained sleeping bags,
we talked about our dreams. Shuichi’s face looked
even paler than it had under the streetlight, but
when I asked, “Are you okay?” he replied firmly,
“I’m fine!”

We left the hut late at night to head for the
summit. As we approached the ninth station, Shuichi
finally collapsed and crouched down. He was running
out of oxygen. I frantically ran back down to the
eighth station, bought an oxygen spray, and
returned. Desperately inhaling the oxygen and
coughing repeatedly with a pale face, …