Yesterday was the final day of the tournament.
I went shopping in the morning. Milk, bread for this morning, and a caramel custard pudding. I checked the fridge before I left to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, so I wouldn’t have to go out again in the afternoon.
During the week, I’d mostly been watching the bouts after getting home from work. For the last day, I wanted to have lunch out of the way so I could settle down and watch. I wanted to wash the dishes first, too.
Fifteen days. Before a tournament starts, I can hardly wait for it. By the end, it feels so short. I can see myself checking the results on my way home from work as usual, then remembering: oh, it’s over already.
I hadn’t even started watching, and I was already feeling a little sad.
The book I was partway through went to the edge of the desk. I’d meant to read some more later, but the sumo was on my mind.
The pudding went into the fridge for the time being. I wanted to eat it while watching the sumo, so I didn’t open it as soon as I got back from the shops.