The café’s window framed the bustling Tokyo street, alive with the rhythmic beat of heels and murmuring voices. Hiroshi sipped his black coffee, eyes riveted on the swirling foam as if it held answers to unasked questions. Across from him, wearing a late-summer cardigan despite the warmth, sat Jun, whose gaze wandered between the crowd and the disc in his hands—a frisbee, faded and dull.

“You ever wonder,” Hiroshi began, placing his cup down, “how things so simple turn so complex?”

Jun looked up, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Like this frisbee?” He turned it in his hands, revealing the tired cracks on its surface. “Used to be vibrant, like a piece of sky torn away.”

“Now it looks… haggard?” Hiroshi offered.

“Weary,” Jun corrected, fingers tracing the rainbows that once were. “Mom gave it to me. Her and I, we’d fling it across this huge, endless park back home.”

“And now?”

Jun’s laughter held a whisper of something dark. “And now, I found it last week, at the bottom of a box marked ‘junk.’ Figured it deserved one last spin before it retires.”

Hiroshi chuckled, a sound that melted into the afternoon’s ambiance. “You coming to the reunion or just soul-searching over frisbees?”

Jun’s brows knitted together. “Why do people cling to reunions? What’s there to see that wasn’t already apparent?”

“Closure?” Hiroshi suggested. “Or reckoning. If you wrong someone and never said sorry, like karma circling back.”

Jun looked at the frisbee again, this time as if listening to its silent tale. “You think that’s true? That something that innocent,” he pointed the disc at him, “can bring consequence?”

“Perhaps. Like causes we don’t understand and effects we can’t predict.” Hiroshi’s glance shifted to the vibrant street yet again.

“Then maybe we should test it.” Jun stood abruptly, slinging the tired frisbee under one arm.

Hiroshi raised an eyebrow. “Test?”

“Let’s see who comes back to this,” Jun motioned towards the Frisbee, “who it calls and why.”

Curiosity piqued, Hiroshi followed Jun to a nearby park. The sun hung low, casting forlorn shadows across the verdant carpet beneath them. They reached an open space, devoid of visitors save for a little girl meticulously rearranging leaves.

With a mischievous grin, Jun threw the frisbee, watching it spin against the declining sun, wobbling uncertainly before it landed near the girl’s feet. She picked it up with a giggle, excitement lighting her eyes.

“Interesting choice,” Hiroshi observed as Jun approached the girl.

“Hello there,” Jun greeted. “Would you like to play a game with us?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically. There was something familiar in the arch of her brows, the lilt of her smile. “I’m Aki,” she announced, already flinging the frisbee back.

Hours vanished in laughter that seemed to loop perpetually like the swing of the frisbee. When dusk deepened, Jun waved Aki goodbye, her silhouette blending into the gentle blue the universe stitched as she parted.

“She resembled someone I knew,” Hiroshi mused as they walked back to the café. “Who was she?”

Jun was silent for a while, letting his thoughts dissolve into the embraces of evening. “She looked like Mom. But younger,” he said finally. “A sign maybe.”

Hiroshi nodded, content in the revelation, feeling the tenacity of time and consequence weaving through their day. A simple, innocent toss of a weary frisbee had perhaps rewritten a neglected narrative.

They turned towards their past footsteps, both agreeing that the karma of the frisbee was, indeed, an intriguing affair.