Behind him, on the wall, a faded poster:
She continued: “My mother played your cassette until it broke. ‘44 Days of Rain,’ she said it saved her.” Shoetsu Otomo Reona 44
His stage name. His past.
Shōetsu didn’t answer.
She smiled. “Then play it. For one person.” Behind him, on the wall, a faded poster:
A young woman sat at the counter. She pointed at the poster. “You’re Reona, aren’t you?” on the wall
Ōtomo Shōetsu wiped the same whiskey glass for the third time. He wasn't cleaning it – he was hiding.