Episode 24 — “Listening to Bob Dylan” (Part 1)

K Station had two exits.

The East Exit, with its bus terminal, was relatively busy, with people constantly coming and going. Then there was the deserted West Exit.

Leaving through the West Exit, you walked along the railway tracks for about five minutes, then turned into a narrow alley. That was where the coffee shop stood.

It was surrounded on all sides by houses, sitting there almost alone, yet somehow it did not stand out. It simply blended into the neighborhood.

Many of the houses were old, but it was a quiet residential area, and most of the people who lived there were gentle, elderly residents.

Most of the customers at a coffee shop called “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” were regulars, many of them living nearby.

The shop opened at nine in the morning and closed at nine at night.

Throughout the day, Bob Dylan’s songs played quietly in the background...

It was an ordinary Thursday.

The large clock on the wall showed eight-thirty, and a slow day with few customers was drawing to a close.

Then, suddenly, the door opened.

“Master, good evening. You’re still open, right?”

The customer was Yasuhiro, a junior-high-school student who lived nearby.

“What are you doing here this late, Yasuhiro? Kids are supposed to be home studying at this hour.”

“...Master, I’m already in my second year of junior high.”

“So?”

“So I’m not a kid anymore.”

“...Of course you are. Your parents are still taking care of you.”

“...Well, I guess that’s true. But that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean... I asked if you were still open, didn’t I?”

Even as he asked the question, Yasuhiro had already plopped himself down in a chair.

“You haven’t had dinner yet?”

“I had a fight with my mom.”

“So you haven’t eaten?”

He nodded silently.

“Really? You didn’t already eat and then come here because you were still hungry?”

“No!”

The Master put down a glass of water and disappeared behind the counter.

“It’s past the last-order time, so all I have is something like my own staff meal. That okay?”

“Yes, please!”

The moment he said it, his stomach growled.

“Well, I guess you really haven’t eaten.”

The Master stroked his proud mustache and gave a wry smile.

He took the dinner he had prepared for himself, divided it up, and used whatever ingredients he had on hand to make Yasuhiro a large plate of spaghetti.

“Whoa! That looks good! Thanks!”

Yasuhiro ate as though he were drinking it.

“You should chew it a little.”

“...Yeah.”

He was eating like a castaway who had finally found food.

(This isn’t going to be enough...)

The Master put some spaghetti into his own mouth, stood up, and began making one of his standard dishes, a frankfurter sandwich.

Watching him from across the counter, Yasuhiro said,

“Master, that looks good! I want one too!”

“You idiot. It’s for you.”

“What? ...Thanks!”

His eyes lit up, and he buried his face even deeper toward the plate, picking up the pace.

“Hey, slow down! You really are going to choke.”

(What on earth did he get into a fight with his mother about, eating like this?)

The Master slowly brought his fork to his mouth as he watched Yasuhiro devour his meal.