Only Yesterday

Taeko decides to visit Nanako's in-laws to help with the safflower harvest. She boards a sleeper train at night and travels from Tokyo toward Yamagata, entering a world of fields and small-town rhythms. The journey marks the shift from urban routine to reflective country life.

The curved interior of the train sparks a flood of memories from Taeko's childhood. She remembers the longing to holiday like her classmates and the way those days shaped her. The past and present begin to intertwine on the long night ride.

In 1966, Taeko meets a baseball-obsessed classmate who becomes her first romantic fixation. They share the awkward, daydreaming moments that mark adolescence. The memory reveals how desire and insecurity mingle in school life.

Taeko recalls the unusual joy of tasting a pineapple with her family for the first time, a symbol of small pleasures in postwar life. The moment is tinged with warmth but also the awareness of material limits. It helps frame her later reflections on abundance and desire.

During that same school year, Taeko confronts the mysteries of growing up and her changing body. The memories reveal awkward questions, lingering curiosities, and the social pressures of adolescence. This awareness becomes part of her broader sense of self.

Taeko's arrival is met by Toshio, a cousin who moved back from the city to help the family. He has embraced farming with a newfound passion, choosing the rural life over the city. His presence anchors the present and deepens Taeko's connection to the countryside.

An argument over an old purse triggers tension in the family, and Taeko sulks about whether to join everyone for a meal. When she walks outside without shoes, her father slaps her, a painful reminder of poverty's grip. The moment underscores how desire and pride interact within family life.

During a meal with Toshio, Taeko asks whether he ever struggled with something difficult, and they talk about fractions in school. He mentions the farming industry's decline and his own internal struggles with that reality. The conversation links arithmetic to the larger rhythms of the countryside.

Taeko recalls a talent for acting that nearly led to a university play, but her father shut the idea down, leaving the family crestfallen. The memory contrasts with the later realization that drama wasn't Taeko's true passion. It shows how parental control shaped her early dreams.

On the eve of Taeko's departure, Toshio's grandmother hints that she could stay in the countryside and marry him. The suggestion flusters Taeko and crystallizes the tension between obligation and desire. The moment foreshadows the intimate turn with Toshio's feelings.

Taeko remembers sitting next to a rough, working-class boy and choosing to treat him with kindness and dignity, even as her friends mocked him. When he changes schools, he is the one person who refuses to shake her hand, leaving a lingering sense of unspoken complexity. The scene reveals Taeko's capacity for empathy amid social tension.

Back in the present, Taeko and Toshio share a moment as rain falls outside, and he bluntly suggests he may have liked her too. The confessional moment deepens their emotional connection and reveals Taeko's growing awareness of her own feelings. The weather mirrors their unfolding closeness.

On the eve of leaving, Taeko is pulled by memories of her childhood and classmates, realizing she may prefer staying in the country. The train's rhythm becomes a resonant heartbeat as she weighs her options. The moment marks a turning point in her sense of belonging.

As the memories of her past selves and classmates surround her, Taeko decides to remain in the countryside. She exits the train, rejects the departure, and is driven back by Toshio, who may hold his own unspoken feelings. The moment closes the loop between memory and present happiness.