Kioku to Tree House

[Machine Translation] My earliest memory is of being made to kneel in front of the household shrine at the age of three, being scolded by my parents and grandmother for stealing a 100-yuan bill. But is this memory even real...? In a corner of a certain Taiwanese city a seedy working-class neighborhood famous for its night markets and red-light district the three of us me, Yi-ya, and Ah-huang grew up. During the summer vacation of our twelfth year, we built a treehouse in a mango tree towering over the grounds of an abandoned house, and while gazing beyond the boundary line forbidden by the adults, we hatched a secret plan to escape this town. Time passed. After losing my job as a university professor of cryptography and devoting myself to caring for my young daughter, I received the news of the death of Yi-ya, who had gained fame as a pianist. I knew this day would come long ago," said Ah-huang. Inspired by his words, I began to unravel my past memories as if deciphering a code

僕の人生最初の記憶は、3歳で神棚の前に跪かされ、百元札を盗んだ咎で両親と祖母から叱責されているものだ。でも、この記憶は本物だろうか...?台湾のとある都会の片隅、夜市と花街で名を馳せる猥雑な下町で、僕ら3人―僕、翊亞、阿煌は育った。12歳の夏休み、僕らは廃屋の敷地にそびえるマンゴーの樹にツリーハウスを造り、大人たちが禁じた境界線の向こうを眺めながら、この街から脱出する秘密の計画を立てた。時が経ち、暗号学を教える大学教授の職を失い、幼い娘の世話に専念する僕のもとに、ピアニストとして名声を得ていた翊亞の訃報が届く。「こんな日が来るのを俺はとっくに知ってた」阿煌の言葉をきっかけに、僕は暗号を解くように、過去の記憶を手繰り始める―。