Hijiri kept the pictures in an envelope, buried beneath years of accumulated letters and concert programs. Even so, he wasn't surprised to find them again while cleaning out his old desk.

     He looked through them again briefly - his teenage self on the ferry, or posing with the statues. Good photographs. Nice composition, no careless fingers covering the lens.

     After flipping through once, he put the envelope aside. He might have looked at the photographs more if fingers had marred a corner or two, but he regretted the self-absorbed teenager he'd been enough already. He should have taken some pictures himself.