I had an hour and a half.
“Did you watch it?” You almost touched my hand.
I nodded and we spiraled into a discussion of Makoto Shinkai’s last film.
“The only problem I have with it is when they meet for a fraction of a second then all of a sudden,” you flailed your lanky arms, “they’re not together again. That kataware-doki moment or whatever,” you dismissed.
“I searched that,” I said. Finally, I had something you didn’t have yet.
“What is it?”
I input the characters on the dictionary and there it was: kataware, fragment. “And doki means something else,” I said. Doki, time.
“So ‘fragment of time’?” we sang.
I indulged at my linguistic approach to the film you recommended I watch. When you had sent me the link, I figured you watched it plenty of times already. You loved it. You loved it overwhelmingly that you needed to share it. And I love it when you’re passionate about something.
So I viewed Kimi no Na Wa with a rather critical eye. I wanted our conversations to have enjoyable depth, like the old times, similar to when we were in the university and you were still ignorant of what I felt toward you.
Silence as we took a bite of our meal. I checked the time.
You animatedly talk about the movie again, about how much you were pained when Taki couldn’t remember Mitsuha’s name, about how shocked you were when the comet made contact with the town, about how tensed you were that they were not going to recognize each other again. Like the film, our conversations were in tangles.
You were almost out of breath from talking about Your Name but I was just silent and smiling most of this lunch break. I indulged in your stories but- I checked the time.
“This is now the anime I’m going to to recommend to non-fans. This one first, then The Girl Who Leapt Through Time.”
“You’re giving me homework again.” We laughed.
“When was the last time we saw each other?” You asked, your eyes smiling.
Clock struck two and we had to say our goodbyes.
(writing practice inspired by unphotographable.com)