夏休みの甘酸っぱい親友

わたしと友人のつながりは、あの思い出の少女雑誌

わが家では夏になると、決まって若狭の漁村へ出かける。この日のために母は自分とわたしに、フランス映画の主役が着るようなおしゃれなお揃いのサンドレスを手作りした。その日はまだ暗い時間に若狭へと車を飛ばす。途中でいつも見晴らしのいい場所でお弁当を広げる。やがて磯の香りが車内を覆い、まもなく目的地だと教えてくれる。

毎年お世話になる中野家は、この地域の漁師さんで、また小規模農家さんでもある。敷地の真ん中にどっしりと座っている母屋には、大きな囲炉裏があり、ここは冬になると雪が深いことを告げていた。その母屋の向かいに二階建ての離れがあり、そこがわたしたち一家の夏の住居になる。

わたしたちは中野さんの歓迎をうけてお昼ご飯をいただいた。長女の順子ちゃんはわたしと同じ年で、若狭におけるわたしの大親友である。わたしたちは並んで座り、仲良くお昼ごはんを食べる間、わたしはひっきりなしに話しかけて順ちゃんを驚かせた。町の子供と違って、分別ある順ちゃんの様子はわたしよりずっと大きい子のように、大人びて見えた。

忘れられない、あのセピア色の映像

食後、わたしは順ちゃんと家の前に広がる海へ遊びに行った。何度か夏を過ごす間に、親しくなった順ちゃんのクラスメイトがわたしたちを迎えにきていた。そこで順ちゃんがもぞもぞと出してきたのは、前年の夏、わたしが京都へ帰るときに順ちゃんに贈った少女漫画だった。雑誌の端っこがめくれ上がり、擦り切れ、小さい手が何度もめくった紙面は、印刷がうすくなり、ボロボロだった。それはわたしが京都から持参した雑誌だった。順ちゃんはこの雑誌が同窓生にものすごい人気があり、クラスの女の子全員が何度も何度もまわし読みしたと話してくれた。

わたしは前年にこの雑誌を何気なく順ちゃんにあげたのだ。家に帰ったら、次の号の雑誌が届いているとわかっていた。あの時、順ちゃんは少女雑誌を抱きしめながら目にいっぱい涙を浮かべて、去っていくわたしたちの車に向かっていつまでも手を振っていた。

その後も何年か若狭に行ったが、成長に従ってわたしたちはどちらもその時々に夢中になるものができた。わたしたちは変わらず夏の間の親友だったが、その関係は少しずつ変わっていった。

今も若狭のことを思うと、遠い昔、順ちゃんが見せてくれたあのボロボロの雑誌は、セピア色の古い日本映画のように、甘酸っぱい思い出の映像となって現われる。だれにも忘れることがない出来事がある。あの雑誌はかけがえのない親友とのつながりだったと思うのである。

A best friend with sweet and sour memories of summer vacation

Memories from magazines are the irreplaceable connection between us.

Every summer, my family would inevitably journey to the fishing village of Wakasa. For this occasion, my mother stayed up all night to handcraft matching sundresses for herself and me, reminiscent of those seen in French films. On that day, we drove to Wakasa while it was still dark. Along the way, we stopped at our usual scenic spot to have a picnic. Soon, the scent of the sea enveloped the car, signaling our imminent arrival at our destination. The Nakano family, whom we visit every year, are fishermen and small-scale farmers in this area. Their main house, sitting solidly in the middle of the property, boasts a large hearth, which foretells heavy snowfall in the winter. Across from this main house is a two-story detached building, which serves as our family's residence during our stay. We were warmly welcomed by the Nakano family and enjoyed lunch together. Their eldest daughter, Junko-chan, is the same age as me and my closest friend in Wakasa. As we sat side by side, eating lunch and chatting amicably, I kept surprising Junko-chan with my constant chatter. Unlike the kids in town, Junko-chan, who is mature beyond her years, always seemed much older than me.

Unforgettable, that sepia-toned imagery

After dinner, I went to play by the sea with Junko-chan. Over the summers we had spent together, some of Junko-chan's classmates, whom I had become acquainted with, would often come to greet us. On one such occasion, Junko-chan shyly produced a shabby, worn-out manga magazine that I had given her the previous summer when I returned to Kyoto. The edges of the magazine were curled up, the pages were frayed, and the small hands that had flipped through it repeatedly had left the paper thin and tattered. It was the magazine I had brought from Kyoto. Junko-chan told me that this magazine was incredibly popular, and all the girls in her class had read it over and over again. I had casually given Junko-chan that magazine the previous year, knowing that the next issue would arrive at home. At that time, Junko-chan had tears in her eyes as she clutched the girls' magazine, waving goodbye to our departing car for a long time. In the years that followed, we continued to visit Wakasa, but as we grew older, we both found new interests to occupy our time. Though we remained close friends throughout the summers, our relationship gradually evolved. Even now, when I think of Wakasa, that worn-out magazine Junko-chan showed me seems to appear like a sepia-toned scene from an old Japanese movie, filled with bittersweet memories. There are some unforgettable moments that nobody can forget. That magazine, I believe, was an irreplaceable link with my dear friend.