Evening, at a branch of the izakaya chain Basara north of the racecourse.
From a window seat, you could see Fuchu Citizens' Stadium at the end of the street, the city center's skyscrapers to the east, and Fuchu Park to the northeast. Apparently, getting a taxi was easy, too-all according to the review app.
It was that awkward, in-between hour when day met night.
Darkness had already fallen in the east, and the city center's neon lights had begun to flicker, while faint red traces of sunset still lingered beyond the western skyline.
"I really am getting old."
After sitting down, Mr. Katsumi first wiped away his sweat.
"You still look very fit."
At that remark, Mr. Katsumi smiled and shook his head.
"When I was young, I could walk all the way from the racecourse's main gate to Nishichofu to catch a taxi. Now, just walking from one end of the grandstand to the other leaves me out of breath."
But Mr. Katsumi did not pursue the subject. Instead, he glanced out at the tree-lined path they had taken there.
Food and drinks gradually filled the table, yet remained almost untouched.
"It would be such a waste not to eat tempura that smells this good." After picking up his chopsticks and making that remark, Mr. Katsumi turned this way.
"Come to think of it, El Condor Pasa's bloodline only survived thanks to you, Kitano." The subject had come up suddenly, for no apparent reason.
"At the time, I just followed my instincts."
And it had also been thanks to the understanding of everyone in the club.
"I see... Still, you must have been under quite a bit of pressure yourself, Kitano?"
As though something had come to mind, Mr. Katsumi smiled and continued.
"When I was young, I had