I finished reading Shion Miura’s Mahoro Station Front: Extra Stories.

Although “Mahoro” is a fictional town, it felt strangely real to me—like a place that must exist somewhere, carrying the scent of everyday life.

I didn’t realize until after finishing the book that it was a sequel to the Naoki Prize–winning Mahoro Station Front. Even so, I slipped easily into the relationship between Tada and Gyoten without having read the first book.

Series novels often don’t label themselves as “Volume 1” or “Volume 2,” so it’s easy to start from the wrong place. Many sequels don’t continue the story in a straight line but instead explore another layer of the same world, which means you can read them without confusion. Still, I can’t help wishing I had read them in order.

All I need to do is check whether a book is part of a series before I start reading. But when I encounter a book I want to read, my mind is already racing ahead—I just want to begin. The idea of “checking” doesn’t even occur to me.

And once I’m halfway through and start thinking, “Wait, is this part of a series?”, I never feel like stopping and going back to the previous book. I’ve already started, after all. It’s a selfish little dilemma, really. I wonder how other people deal with this. (As a complete aside, I’ve recently heard people say “minna-san” as a polite form of “everyone.” It feels odd to me, but perhaps it will eventually become common.)

Tada and Gyoten, who run a small handyman business in Mahoro, each seem to carry a past they cannot fully face. But that isn’t unusual. Most of us have one or two memories we would rather not revisit.

I, too, have a past I don’t want to look at or remember. Yet somewhere deep inside, there is a quiet feeling that tries to keep me from repeating it.

When I read novels, sometimes a character’s shadow touches something in me, and I think, “Ah, I know that feeling.” It reminds me to be careful. Other times, I realize that I’ve already learned to avoid certain things without even noticing—my body remembers what my mind doesn’t want to see.

And that’s enough. We don’t have to force ourselves to confront the past in order to move forward. As long as we’re alive, we can keep going.