Only Yesterday

Taeko Okajima, Miki Imai (voice), a solitary office worker living in Tokyo in 1982, longs for the slower pace of the countryside. She travels to visit her eldest sister Nanako, Yorie Yamashita (voice)‘s in-laws to help with the safflower harvest. On a nighttime sleeper train to Yamagata, memories surge of Taeko as a ten-year-old schoolgirl in 1966, a year when classmates could holiday with family outside the city. Through vivid recollections, the film unfolds moments from that school year—the first time she fell for a boy who played baseball, the day her family shared a pineapple for the first time, and the early, awkward steps of puberty that began to shape her sense of self.

When Taeko arrives, she is surprised to be picked up by Toshio, her brother-in-law’s second cousin, who has returned from the city to help his family on the farm. Toshio, Toshiro Yanagiba (voice), becomes a bridge between two eras, guiding her through the rhythms of rural life and prompting further reflections on her younger self. As they share meals and quiet moments, she opens up to Toshio and to Nanako about the memories that keep resurfacing, weaving a tapestry that links past and present and reveals how the countryside has always spoken to her sense of belonging.

Taeko’s memories swing back to her sister Yaeko, Yuki Minowa (voice), who was asked to lend an old purse, sparking a family argument and a sharper reminder of hardship when Taeko’s father slaps her for standing outside barefoot—a small but powerful symbol of postwar poverty. The remembered scene tests Taeko’s own growing awareness of want, and it also shows Yaeko’s fragility within a family dynamic that tries to keep up appearances. As the memory unfolds, Taeko confronts how desire and pride coexist within a girl who loves her family but longs for a different path.

In another thread of memory, Taeko recalls an impulsive spark of talent for acting—an opportunity to be in a university play that her father ultimately shut down, leaving the younger Taeko and her family crestfallen. By high school, drama fades from her life, nudging her toward a different future even as the seed of storytelling remains part of who she is. This inner history enriches her understanding of the present moment and her evolving sense of self, especially as she sees how the rural landscape has shaped her identity, even as it tugs at her heart.

As the visit nears its end, Toshio’s grandmother—Taeko’s grandmother, Chie Kitagawa (voice)—senses the underlying wish in Taeko’s eyes and gently suggests that she might stay and marry Toshio. The suggestion unsettles Taeko, sparking a flutter of doubt and a rush of longing that she compounds by stepping outside to be alone. She recalls a briefly remembered, ill-mannered working-class boy she once treated with kindness, even as others looked down on him; the memory lingers, and the boy’s absence feels heavy. The moment evolves into a quiet confession: Toshio may have feelings for her, and Taeko’s own emotions begin to tilt toward him even as she fights the pull of the life she has always known.

The night before she must depart, the memories of her classmates—assembled in a chorus of quiet, unspoken urging—seem to urge Taeko to stay. On the rain-washed morning train, she makes a pivotal choice: she alights, and Toshio drives her back across the fields and lanes, with her younger self watching from the margins of the frame. The journey concludes as the present and the past walk side by side, blend into a single sense of place, and leave Taeko standing at the threshold between two worlds—the urban, grown woman she is and the girl who learned to listen to the land, the people, and her own heart.

Last Updated: October 09, 2025 at 15:01