Canon's Diary

I woke just before six. From the air conditioner’s vent came the faint sound of dry air flowing out. The dim room seemed to whisper that I could stay asleep a little longer.

On the table, a bottle of whisky and a plastic bottle of soda water had been left where they were. When I opened my smartphone, a message appeared in the app:

—Both deep and REM are at or above the optimal range, often indicating a high degree of recovery.—

I had gone to bed at ten the night before. It seemed I had gotten enough sleep.

Without opening the curtains, I walked through the dim living room to the sink, brushed my teeth, and washed my face with cold water. After tidying the room a little, I sat down in the living room chair. I opened my laptop and, as usual, skimmed through the news.

Japan had defeated Tunisia 4–0 in the World Cup, the article said. Takumi Minamino, who had played as Japan’s ace striker in the previous tournament, suffered a serious anterior cruciate ligament injury late last year. This time, he was not registered as a player but had traveled with the team as part of the support staff. There was an episode about him—how, after the match, he quietly helped collect the balls and polished his teammates’ boots.

Holding back the feeling rising in my chest, I opened the curtains.

Light slipped into the room.

I found myself remembering the days when I used to run across the pitch. Something has changed since then.

I finished breakfast, poured coffee into my thermos, and opened the front door.

Another day begins.