Golden Time:Volume5 Chapter1

Status: Incomplete

7% completed (estimated)

   

Golden Time 5: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

When Spring came to Tokyo, it came to Saitama too.

Right now, the ten other members of the youth group "The Law School Japanese Festival Culture Research Society"... alias "Omaken", were on the edge of a shopping district in the Saitama prefecture.

Indeed, they were in a very large parking lot owned by a sponsoring temple. They were gathered under one tent of several set up as if in a row in the corner, lined up with their necks outstretched in front of a single electric fan set standing there. They were hardly talking any more.

Now and then somebody would feebly murmur "the wind is whispering," and somebody else would, equally feebly, answer back as if on cue, "It's hot, too hot..." And when that happened, some people would simply laugh. Not knowing where they got it from and not having the energy to join in the mysterious byplay, Banri,

"Isn't Awa Odori something you do at night...? Why in this kind of heat...?"

Crouched down still, they pressed their cool upper arms against their flushed faces and muttered. When they closed their eyes, even their eyeballs had gone red: the heat had soaked through their eyelids.

Right behind Banri, seated loosely on a pipe chair, Kosshii-senpai,

"Thirty-eight degrees."

Was all he said.

"...Is it Panmunjom?

'The Military Demarcation Line?' thought Banri, shaking his head.

"Right now. It's thirty-eight degrees! The temperature. You aren't thinking."

He showed them the screen of the smart phone he held in his hand. It was showing the current temperature around the area, so it had to be 38 degrees Celsius. Ugh... Even Banri could manage nothing more than a low moan. Indeed, it seemed he would have been a lot better off with no clothes on the open air.

At length, they'd tied back their yukatas from their chests so the drops of sweat would go rolling down and falling off. Even though they hadn't even danced yet, Banri's entire body was quickly sopping wet with sweat. Along with all the rest of the guys, the color of the cloth on his back had changed from being wetted.

Saitama in mid-summer was too hot in general, and there was no real objection to calling it Hell. They were close to hitting record temperatures for all of Japan, and what's more, there was hardly a cloud in the sky. The address in Hell was probably Block #1, Red Hot. Now and then the wind blew, but it was no different from fanning oneself with a blow-dryer. Shining, burning brightly, as the afternoon drew on the sunlight becoming even more energetic, as if it were trying to burn everything living on the surface world to a crisp.

<~~7% Completed~~>

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