Gravity, Alchemic

The entrance ceremony is on April 2nd.

    For the first time in my life, I wore a suit in the overcast and occasionally wet weather. I couldn’t get my tie to appear as tidy as the advertising for suits, so I decided to knot it haphazardly to create an opportunity for sympathetic female students to talk to me.

    I went to the university on my 40,000 yen bike that I had bought for commuting to university and looked for a spot to park my bike that would not be rained on, but all of the parking lots were filled, so I had no choice but to leave my bike in an uncovered area.

    All of the new students were gathered in the university’s auditorium (rather than the gymnasium), and each department sat in their allocated seats together. We were placed alphabetically, and I, Wataru Yukawa, was in the very back row, where I could see the whole department.

    The island of beautifully coiffed girls stood out in a sea of guys in black or navy blue suits. There were 36 male and 4 female alumni of the Department of Heavy Element Engineering, Faculty of Science and Technology from the 2013 batch. The number of students is comparable to that of a high school class, but the tiny percentage of female students can be said to be unique. The rest of the day was free after that, so I tallied how many times the president would say “uh” and “well” in his congratulations speech. It happened 83 and 61 times, respectively. Prime numbers, oh my.

    Looking over the venue guide, I noticed that there were seats for both parents and students. I was curious as to what type of parents would want to see their children’s entrance ceremony, but judging by the number of seats occupied, around 20% of the parents were present. At most, you can only come to Toshima Ward on a day trip from Omiya or Urawa, so maybe some parents come here overnight. You’re being very protective. It’s possible that they merely wanted to use their children as an enticement to visit Tokyo.

National Otsuka University. Also known as ODAI. Perhaps as a pun, the school color was orange.

    Institutions such as the School of Trades and Crafts and the School of Law were established in various parts of Tokyo from the Meiji era to the beginning of the Showa era, and with the conclusion of the war, they all changed their names and became “universities.” As Tokyo expanded, there was a growing consensus that having too many little universities is bad for the economy, thus the universities were consolidated with the support of a savvy minister who said, “Stop it, just put ’em all in one place.” Thanks to this, each major has a strong sense of independence.

    Our Department of Heavy Element Engineering originated from the Heavy Element Research Institute, which was founded in 1905 in the aftermath of Japan’s close victory in the Russo-Japanese War on the premise that the nation’s centennial plan should be built on heavy elements. The professors are quite proud of their work as a venerable major with over a hundred years of history. According to the department’s pamphlet.

    At present, ODAI is the only place in the Kanto region that fully specialize in heavy elements, and only three other places in Japan do as well. The Faculty of Science at the University of Tokyo also has a “Department of Heavy Element Chemistry,” although it only uses the term “Heavy Element” for historical reasons, and it actually focuses on materials chemistry produced from heavy element engineering. Even if academics have evolved throughout time, changing the name of a department remains a challenging task. Don’t ask the Meiji government what happened to the nation’s 100-year plan.

    Following the entrance ceremony, each department was given guidance, and a man named Professor Otaki, the head of the Department of Heavy Element Engineering, walked in from the Science and Engineering Building 4. He is in his forties and a professor.

    “Hello everyone, I’m Otaki, the department head.”

    He took a deep breath and proceeded to talk calmly. I thought that a department head in his forties in a department consisting of old professors must have a respectable track record, but I was soon told that the department head was…

    “The department head is, in essence, a  scullery maid for the department. In other words, it’s a responsibility thrust onto a young person like myself.”

    And…

    “Now, I’m sure you’re thinking that heavy element engineering is an academic discipline with no future or job chances, but don’t worry, you won’t be losing your job in aircraft maintenance and inspection for a long time.”

    Following that, I greeted him with the pessimism of a scholar. From that, we were briefed on how to proceed with the lectures and experiments in this department, and an office lady explained how to register for the lectures.

    Following the guidance, the senior members of the department came out, and a party was held under their supervision. Along with pizza and sushi delivery, oolong tea and juice were offered, and the new students introduced themselves. Everyone just chatted about their hometowns, high school activities, interests, and other odd topics. Some of them attempted to stand out by doing some kind of gimmick, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying, so I assumed it was some kind of anime that wasn’t seen in Aizu. The world with the Skytree has a different cultural level.

    According to statistics, one-third of these students come from Toshima Ward, and one-third from other Tokyo wards. Some commute from Shinjuku City, while others reside in dormitories. The remaining one-third come from places other than Tokyo, such as Saitama and Tama.

    I thought that no one knew about Aizu, but when I talked with some of them, I found that they were surprisingly well known. It appears to be related to the historical drama now airing on NHK. It was a much-discussed recreation of the early Meiji era landscapes, when Mt. Bandai was still near to Wakamatsu City, employing rigorous historical research and incredible CG technology. I also watched the first two episodes, and NHK was indeed able to bring the topic all the way from Tokyo.

    I was, indeed, from the far north of this department. Shinozaki, the westernmost, was a guy. He was a huge man, 187 cm tall, with deep sculpted features and long eyelashes that made him appear like a Westerner, so I initially misunderstood him for a half-breed and thought “It’s Tokyo, international,” but he was a pure Japanese from Hamamatsu when I chatted to him. He said as soon as I introduced myself. 

    “Aizu, you say? So we’ll have to cross Lake Inawashiro to Koriyama, then take Route 4 south?”

    When he said in a fearless baritone voice, I was overjoyed. Because I’m tired of talking about a major drama that I’ve only watched two episodes of (and neither has the other).

    “You know it well. However, because Lake Inawashiro has lately moved to the north, many people are now taking the course from the south side of the lake rather than crossing through Koriyama.”

    “I see. My knowledge of geography stops at the elementary school level.”

    He said this while staring into the distance with eyes as large as his massive bulk.

    “Because of the presence of a massive heavy element deposit in the Urabandai area, the topography of the area changes rather dramatically. That explains why there are so many earthquakes.”

    “Was there any damage from the earthquake the past year?”

  “No, that was in the Pacific Ocean. Aizu was barely shaken.”

    “That area is huge. It’s hard to think we were once a single prefecture.”

    Shinozaki said. He then told me he was from Hamamatsu City on the Tokaido Highway, which made me feel uncomfortable since I knew nothing about Hamamatsu. I thought I remembered something about it being famous for its eels, but I couldn’t recall it right away.

    Shinozaki suddenly looked out the window and said after we had talked about our hometowns for a time and had ran out of topics to talk about.

    “Hey, I wonder if it’s raining now.”

    I, too, gazed out the window. I could tell it was dark due to the dense clouds, but I couldn’t see or hear anything that looked like rain. But I can see people wandering around outside.

    “No, it’s not raining. Look at that guy, he’s carrying an umbrella, but he’s not using it.”

  Shinozaki squinted his eyes and looked at me when I said that.

    “Haha, I didn’t know there was such a way to tell.”

    And then, after some thought, he said

    “So, if we walk outside with umbrellas, the people inside will think it’s raining, right?”

    “I see,” I replied with a straight face.

    This is roughly how I met Keita Shinozaki, my first best friend in this university life.