Chapter 2 - Under the skies of August, my heart thinks only of you
(Will
the girl at that cottage again wait for the newspaper this morning?)
It was 3.30am.
Riku was at the village’s store, in the process of strapping the freshly printed papers onto the back seat of his bicycle. He looked up at the dark skies.
The rain had been pouring for half the night already and, while the wind was muted, the girl, her long, pretty black hair, and her dress of clear colors, would all surely be soaked by the rain if she waited outside in this kind of weather.
It had been an evening, a week ago, when Riku had met the girl from Tokyo.
There was a straw hat that rode the summer breeze amidst the last vestiges of the dazzling sunset. There was a pure white ribbon, untainted by the red sunset, that fluttered in the sky as the hat landed on the branch of a tree growing by the brook.
There was a girl standing beneath the large tree, with long, black hair and slender of body, looking up at the hat with worry in her eyes.
She was dressed in a pure-white, one-piece dress. Her white legs were wrapped by the straps of her little sandals. Her arms and neck were equally pale, so slim, feeble, and posh that they threatened to snap at any given moment. One could tell she was fresh off the boat.
It was the girl living at the villa.
Behind the bridge over the brook, there was an old house with walls covered in vine and lush greenery in the garden. One that had been empty ever since its previous owner had died in spring.
According to what Riku had heard from the boss at his part-time job, the house was finally taken over by a Tokyo-based relative of the late owner, and the new owner’s daughter would be living there during summer vacation. Thus, the boss had requested that he started to deliver newspapers there again.
It appeared that the girl, like Riku, was a middle schooler.
Surely, she was a princess.
Riku had delivered the evening newspapers, and was on his way back to the shop when his bicycle passed the brook.
He braked hard and stopped before the girl. The girl’s slender shoulders shuddered as she watched him warily.
Surely, it was because of his standoffish demeanour.
In silence, he grabbed a branch, scaled the tree, reached the straw hat with the white ribbon tied to it, and nudged it over to the wide-eyed girl below.
Her petite white hands hurriedly caught the straw hat.
Riku hopped off the tree and landed on the patch of grass dyed in orange. The girl, still very tense, clutched the straw hat to her chest.
“Erm...”
She was about to say something, but he had already leapt onto the bicycle parked by the side of the path, and pedalled off.
He was unused to communicating with others, let alone those who would not have any relation to him.
To him, she looked like a moneyed princess from Tokyo. But he did hold some curiosity towards her, for she was a relative of the lonely ‘fairy’.
──I am a fairy.
It had happened two years ago, in summer, when Riku had been in his first year of the middle school.
He took his painting utensils and walked into the forest by the village, intending to draw the marshes there.
She, Shiori Hamuro, was old enough to be called an elderly lady. Her hair was white, and the flow of time had carved scars on her little face.
That did not hinder her in the slightest, however. There was a lush patch of grass between the massive trees and she sat there, on the edge, in a blue dress, back straight, knees of her thin legs held together. All very elegant. There was something sacred in her innocent smile and her voice sounded gentle and warm. She looked completely unlike the depiction of her painted by the villagers, one of a lonely, hopeless, senile old lady.
──The Princess of the Hamuros has been the prettiest in the village once, but she never got married and grew to be spinster. Her family has passed away, that the old house is the only inheritance she has left. Such a pity. Why didn’t she marry? There were rumors that she was duped by a bad man, and dumped. But she’s a daughter of a rich family, and so pretty to begin with. Why is it that nobody has proposed to her?
He had heard plenty of rumors like those, and more.
It was 3.30am.
Riku was at the village’s store, in the process of strapping the freshly printed papers onto the back seat of his bicycle. He looked up at the dark skies.
The rain had been pouring for half the night already and, while the wind was muted, the girl, her long, pretty black hair, and her dress of clear colors, would all surely be soaked by the rain if she waited outside in this kind of weather.
It had been an evening, a week ago, when Riku had met the girl from Tokyo.
There was a straw hat that rode the summer breeze amidst the last vestiges of the dazzling sunset. There was a pure white ribbon, untainted by the red sunset, that fluttered in the sky as the hat landed on the branch of a tree growing by the brook.
There was a girl standing beneath the large tree, with long, black hair and slender of body, looking up at the hat with worry in her eyes.
She was dressed in a pure-white, one-piece dress. Her white legs were wrapped by the straps of her little sandals. Her arms and neck were equally pale, so slim, feeble, and posh that they threatened to snap at any given moment. One could tell she was fresh off the boat.
It was the girl living at the villa.
Behind the bridge over the brook, there was an old house with walls covered in vine and lush greenery in the garden. One that had been empty ever since its previous owner had died in spring.
According to what Riku had heard from the boss at his part-time job, the house was finally taken over by a Tokyo-based relative of the late owner, and the new owner’s daughter would be living there during summer vacation. Thus, the boss had requested that he started to deliver newspapers there again.
It appeared that the girl, like Riku, was a middle schooler.
Surely, she was a princess.
Riku had delivered the evening newspapers, and was on his way back to the shop when his bicycle passed the brook.
He braked hard and stopped before the girl. The girl’s slender shoulders shuddered as she watched him warily.
Surely, it was because of his standoffish demeanour.
In silence, he grabbed a branch, scaled the tree, reached the straw hat with the white ribbon tied to it, and nudged it over to the wide-eyed girl below.
Her petite white hands hurriedly caught the straw hat.
Riku hopped off the tree and landed on the patch of grass dyed in orange. The girl, still very tense, clutched the straw hat to her chest.
“Erm...”
She was about to say something, but he had already leapt onto the bicycle parked by the side of the path, and pedalled off.
He was unused to communicating with others, let alone those who would not have any relation to him.
To him, she looked like a moneyed princess from Tokyo. But he did hold some curiosity towards her, for she was a relative of the lonely ‘fairy’.
──I am a fairy.
It had happened two years ago, in summer, when Riku had been in his first year of the middle school.
He took his painting utensils and walked into the forest by the village, intending to draw the marshes there.
She, Shiori Hamuro, was old enough to be called an elderly lady. Her hair was white, and the flow of time had carved scars on her little face.
That did not hinder her in the slightest, however. There was a lush patch of grass between the massive trees and she sat there, on the edge, in a blue dress, back straight, knees of her thin legs held together. All very elegant. There was something sacred in her innocent smile and her voice sounded gentle and warm. She looked completely unlike the depiction of her painted by the villagers, one of a lonely, hopeless, senile old lady.
──The Princess of the Hamuros has been the prettiest in the village once, but she never got married and grew to be spinster. Her family has passed away, that the old house is the only inheritance she has left. Such a pity. Why didn’t she marry? There were rumors that she was duped by a bad man, and dumped. But she’s a daughter of a rich family, and so pretty to begin with. Why is it that nobody has proposed to her?
He had heard plenty of rumors like those, and more.
But none of it mattered to Riku. So he just
lowered his head and turned to leave, only to hear Shiori speak with an elegant
singing voice,
──So you can really draw? That is good. This place is said to be the most beautiful place in the world. Especially during summer nights, when those who come here turn into fairies and cowherds.
There was the warm breeze, the rustling greenery, the pure white clouds floating in the sky, the clear light shining upon the land.
The diminutive old lady, that stood amidst the vibrant wildforest at noontime, only spoke of whimsical things. However, there was an adorable presence surrounding her, a rather refreshingly peculiar one.
For a moment, one might think that she was a real fairy.
After a while, he recovered and found himself thinking that the summer sun remained strong and a blurring of consciousness could be a symptom of heatstroke. The temperature here was falling, but it was still probably better to rehydrate in the shade and head back home before the sun set completely. At that moment Shiori narrowed her eyes and said, “thank you.”
Riku turned around and left, sent on his way by a song sung in a gentle voice. He heard words like “apple flowers”, “Katyusha”, and so on. It appeared to be a foreign folk song… Its upbeat melody was swaying gently in the wind accompanied by the fragrance of the green forest .
Riku only had that one conversation with Shiori, and never went back to that place again.
For him, that clearing was simply an arts classroom during the period of the school break. For Shiori, it seemed to be something altogether more sacred. Riku felt that an outsider should not trespass there callously.
Shiori did place an order for the morning newspaper, and Riku would deliver them into the postbox of that house covered by lush greenery. But the days passed by and he never met Shiori again.
He tried to recall the face of the fairy, and reconcile it with the girl with the straw hat, but the age gap between them was too great, and he couldn’t tell if they really resembled each other.
Like it had happened with Shiori, it was unlikely that he would meet the girl again.
That day, Riku returned to his two-storey wooden apartment, eschewed dinner as usual, and spent the time sketching in the empty room.
The space was six tatami big, and he was kneeling upon the faded floor as he drew everything he saw on anything he could draw upon, whether it was the back of a pamphlet, the bottom of an empty box, or the back of a school contact list. With bated breath, he let the charcoal pencil fly, and purged everything other than the act of drawing from his world.
His mother probably would not be back tonight. Nobody would disturb him. The sweat gathering on his forehead trickled down his cheeks, falling upon the tatamis, but he paid it no mind as he continued to draw.
His next meeting with the girl was the following morning.
The morning sun was vaguely peeking out from behind the mountainside and the skies slowly turned brighter. This was the moment when Riku arrived at the house by the brook, the temporary residence of the girl.
He picked up the still warm newspaper and was about to insert it into the postbox by the fence when he heard a loud bang from the direction of the house. He lifted his head, and saw the girl on the second floor, holding the window in her raised arms. She was staring wide-eyed, straight at him.
Today she was dressed in mint-green pajamas and glasses but, surely, it was the girl from the previous day.
As soon as their eyes met, she hurriedly lowered the window, and hid.
Did she think he was dropping by to peep on her?
For a moment, Riku felt like he did something bad, and hurriedly drove away from the fence of the residence.
The following day, the girl was standing by the postbox dressed in a plain, one-piece dress.
That morning she was not wearing glasses and her little white hands were clutching the hem of her dress. She looked extremely tense.
Once she sensed Riku’s arrival, her back straightened out of fear, and her cheeks reddened.
Then, she started to fidget, alternating between averting her eyes and looking back at him. Only when Riku parked the bicycle before the postbox did she lift her head up high, and suddenly bent her back down.
The long, straight hair immediately fell down her petite shoulders.
“My-my straw hat landed on the tree two days ago, and you helped me while I was wondering how to get it down. Thank you very much for doing that...!”
Her voice was a little shrill, very shy even, but she did her best to say her words, and lowered her head with great sincerity.
She was a princess living at this villa, and yet she was extremely humble. This was a shock to Riku.
The fine threads of hair were draped by the side of her white cheeks, her eyebrows slumped weakly.
Still skeptical, Riku pulled out a newspaper from his bicycle. The girl timidly reached out to receive them.
──So you can really draw? That is good. This place is said to be the most beautiful place in the world. Especially during summer nights, when those who come here turn into fairies and cowherds.
There was the warm breeze, the rustling greenery, the pure white clouds floating in the sky, the clear light shining upon the land.
The diminutive old lady, that stood amidst the vibrant wildforest at noontime, only spoke of whimsical things. However, there was an adorable presence surrounding her, a rather refreshingly peculiar one.
For a moment, one might think that she was a real fairy.
After a while, he recovered and found himself thinking that the summer sun remained strong and a blurring of consciousness could be a symptom of heatstroke. The temperature here was falling, but it was still probably better to rehydrate in the shade and head back home before the sun set completely. At that moment Shiori narrowed her eyes and said, “thank you.”
Riku turned around and left, sent on his way by a song sung in a gentle voice. He heard words like “apple flowers”, “Katyusha”, and so on. It appeared to be a foreign folk song… Its upbeat melody was swaying gently in the wind accompanied by the fragrance of the green forest .
Riku only had that one conversation with Shiori, and never went back to that place again.
For him, that clearing was simply an arts classroom during the period of the school break. For Shiori, it seemed to be something altogether more sacred. Riku felt that an outsider should not trespass there callously.
Shiori did place an order for the morning newspaper, and Riku would deliver them into the postbox of that house covered by lush greenery. But the days passed by and he never met Shiori again.
He tried to recall the face of the fairy, and reconcile it with the girl with the straw hat, but the age gap between them was too great, and he couldn’t tell if they really resembled each other.
Like it had happened with Shiori, it was unlikely that he would meet the girl again.
That day, Riku returned to his two-storey wooden apartment, eschewed dinner as usual, and spent the time sketching in the empty room.
The space was six tatami big, and he was kneeling upon the faded floor as he drew everything he saw on anything he could draw upon, whether it was the back of a pamphlet, the bottom of an empty box, or the back of a school contact list. With bated breath, he let the charcoal pencil fly, and purged everything other than the act of drawing from his world.
His mother probably would not be back tonight. Nobody would disturb him. The sweat gathering on his forehead trickled down his cheeks, falling upon the tatamis, but he paid it no mind as he continued to draw.
His next meeting with the girl was the following morning.
The morning sun was vaguely peeking out from behind the mountainside and the skies slowly turned brighter. This was the moment when Riku arrived at the house by the brook, the temporary residence of the girl.
He picked up the still warm newspaper and was about to insert it into the postbox by the fence when he heard a loud bang from the direction of the house. He lifted his head, and saw the girl on the second floor, holding the window in her raised arms. She was staring wide-eyed, straight at him.
Today she was dressed in mint-green pajamas and glasses but, surely, it was the girl from the previous day.
As soon as their eyes met, she hurriedly lowered the window, and hid.
Did she think he was dropping by to peep on her?
For a moment, Riku felt like he did something bad, and hurriedly drove away from the fence of the residence.
The following day, the girl was standing by the postbox dressed in a plain, one-piece dress.
That morning she was not wearing glasses and her little white hands were clutching the hem of her dress. She looked extremely tense.
Once she sensed Riku’s arrival, her back straightened out of fear, and her cheeks reddened.
Then, she started to fidget, alternating between averting her eyes and looking back at him. Only when Riku parked the bicycle before the postbox did she lift her head up high, and suddenly bent her back down.
The long, straight hair immediately fell down her petite shoulders.
“My-my straw hat landed on the tree two days ago, and you helped me while I was wondering how to get it down. Thank you very much for doing that...!”
Her voice was a little shrill, very shy even, but she did her best to say her words, and lowered her head with great sincerity.
She was a princess living at this villa, and yet she was extremely humble. This was a shock to Riku.
The fine threads of hair were draped by the side of her white cheeks, her eyebrows slumped weakly.
Still skeptical, Riku pulled out a newspaper from his bicycle. The girl timidly reached out to receive them.
“Thank you very much,” she said.
The moment the long slender fingers touched the paper, something caused them to shiver. Riku’s heart too seemed to sense this shiver, for a warm sensation rose up his abdomen, so he nodded slightly, and hurriedly pedalled off.
When he thought of the ethereal eyes watching him leave, his breathing turned more frantic than usual.
(She waited for me just to say thanks... Such an earnest person.)
Surely, she was raised well.
Her body still looked immature, but her lips were fine and pink. That appearance etched itself into Riku’s heart.
The demure little face truly resembled the fairy he had met in the marsh that summer.
Ever since then, the girl at the villa would await Riku’s arrival.
Each time, she would be holding a flowering can, pretending to water the plants in the garden, only to peek out of the gate every now and then. As soon as she spotted him, she would shrug, lower the watering can, and bashfully emerge from inside the villa grounds.
“Go-Good morning.”
And then, she would lower her head and greet him politely.
Riku would hand over the newspaper while remaining seated on the bicycle and the slender hands would slowly reach forth to accept it carefully.
“Thank you,” she would say, lowering her head again.
The girl would then lift her head to look at him with noticeable bashfulness in her black eyes and vivid red staining her cheeks. This would make Riku blush too, and he would head off to his next stop with a lowered head.
The same scene would play out on the following day.
And the day after that.
The girl would always wander around within the fenced-off villa grounds, regularly poking her head out of the gate. Whenever Riku’s bicycle showed up on its slow approach, she would head out of the gate to wait by the postbox.
On the fourth morning, Riku arrived to deliver as usual, but the girl was not there.
(She isn’t around today...?)
He was downhearted and could feel his own disappointment.
(Maybe she was really just watering the flowers all the time, and not waiting for me after all.)
That thought made him feel really empty. He held the newspaper in his hand. His lips pursed as he lifted his head towards the window on the second floor. The girl had showed her petite face there once. There was much longing in his eyes as he turned to look in that direction, and then, suddenly —
— The main door to the house opened. The girl hastily stumbled out of the corridor with a straw hat on her head.
The sun had yet to rise, so why was she wearing the straw hat?
It was still early. Where was she intending to go?
Riku sensed that she might have some important plans for today. Was she breathing heavily because of that?
Doubt gripped his heart and, at the same time, he wondered if the girl would realize that he was looking forward to seeing her.
“So-sorry. Good morning.”
The girl held down the straw hat with one hand, and bent down to offer her greeting.
Her voice was as soft, as usual. If Riku did not strain his ears, it could have slipped away with the wind, and he would have missed those words.
He lowered his head deeper than usual, and quickly handed the newspaper over.
The girl reached with her hands to receive them.
“Thank you very much.”
Once the conversation ended, Riku pedalled off, leaving the girl behind.
(That girl is definitely waiting at the courtyard every morning just to meet me, right?) he thought, yet he couldn’t quite make himself accept that it could be true.
(Why was she wearing a straw hat?)
So he focused on the completely unimportant question istead.
Then came the next morning, this morning.
(It’s raining today. Will she be waiting even in this weather?)
Riku was wearing a raincoat, and the rain happily pattered against its surface. Visibility was poor. He could only watch his path through narrowed eyes as he rode onwards, making his way forward with much difficulty as he delivered the newspapers into the postboxes.
Eventually, he arrived at the villa by the brook and was taken aback. The girl was waiting at the gate this morning as well, holding a red umbrella in one hand. Blue, clumsy looking boots covered her slender legs. They did not fit those legs at all.
Once the girl spotted Riku, a faint smile danced on her lips, part-delight and part-bashfulness.
Seeing that, the usually poised Riku felt his heart thumping loudly.
(She’s here today.)
That caused his heart to race and his body to heat up.
Riku handed the newspaper over, and spoke to her, his tone sounding strangely aloof even to himself.
“...Why are you waiting...for the newspaper, every day?”
The girl seemed to be rattled. She looked down at her feet and brought the umbrella handle close to her flat chest. Then, while her fingers awkwardly fidgeted around, she replied in a teeny-weeny voice, “I am interested...in the serialized novel.”
Her cheeks and collarbone were beetroot red. The raindrops pelted the umbrella and the raincoat threatening to overpower the girl’s already soft voice.
“Novel?” asked Riku.
The girl nodded back.
“Ye-yes. I want to read the next installment as soon as possible, even a minute sooner if possible…”
She lowered her eyes, trying her best to keep the conversation going.
And that, in turn, made Riku listen with bated breath.
The moment the long slender fingers touched the paper, something caused them to shiver. Riku’s heart too seemed to sense this shiver, for a warm sensation rose up his abdomen, so he nodded slightly, and hurriedly pedalled off.
When he thought of the ethereal eyes watching him leave, his breathing turned more frantic than usual.
(She waited for me just to say thanks... Such an earnest person.)
Surely, she was raised well.
Her body still looked immature, but her lips were fine and pink. That appearance etched itself into Riku’s heart.
The demure little face truly resembled the fairy he had met in the marsh that summer.
Ever since then, the girl at the villa would await Riku’s arrival.
Each time, she would be holding a flowering can, pretending to water the plants in the garden, only to peek out of the gate every now and then. As soon as she spotted him, she would shrug, lower the watering can, and bashfully emerge from inside the villa grounds.
“Go-Good morning.”
And then, she would lower her head and greet him politely.
Riku would hand over the newspaper while remaining seated on the bicycle and the slender hands would slowly reach forth to accept it carefully.
“Thank you,” she would say, lowering her head again.
The girl would then lift her head to look at him with noticeable bashfulness in her black eyes and vivid red staining her cheeks. This would make Riku blush too, and he would head off to his next stop with a lowered head.
The same scene would play out on the following day.
And the day after that.
The girl would always wander around within the fenced-off villa grounds, regularly poking her head out of the gate. Whenever Riku’s bicycle showed up on its slow approach, she would head out of the gate to wait by the postbox.
On the fourth morning, Riku arrived to deliver as usual, but the girl was not there.
(She isn’t around today...?)
He was downhearted and could feel his own disappointment.
(Maybe she was really just watering the flowers all the time, and not waiting for me after all.)
That thought made him feel really empty. He held the newspaper in his hand. His lips pursed as he lifted his head towards the window on the second floor. The girl had showed her petite face there once. There was much longing in his eyes as he turned to look in that direction, and then, suddenly —
— The main door to the house opened. The girl hastily stumbled out of the corridor with a straw hat on her head.
The sun had yet to rise, so why was she wearing the straw hat?
It was still early. Where was she intending to go?
Riku sensed that she might have some important plans for today. Was she breathing heavily because of that?
Doubt gripped his heart and, at the same time, he wondered if the girl would realize that he was looking forward to seeing her.
“So-sorry. Good morning.”
The girl held down the straw hat with one hand, and bent down to offer her greeting.
Her voice was as soft, as usual. If Riku did not strain his ears, it could have slipped away with the wind, and he would have missed those words.
He lowered his head deeper than usual, and quickly handed the newspaper over.
The girl reached with her hands to receive them.
“Thank you very much.”
Once the conversation ended, Riku pedalled off, leaving the girl behind.
(That girl is definitely waiting at the courtyard every morning just to meet me, right?) he thought, yet he couldn’t quite make himself accept that it could be true.
(Why was she wearing a straw hat?)
So he focused on the completely unimportant question istead.
Then came the next morning, this morning.
(It’s raining today. Will she be waiting even in this weather?)
Riku was wearing a raincoat, and the rain happily pattered against its surface. Visibility was poor. He could only watch his path through narrowed eyes as he rode onwards, making his way forward with much difficulty as he delivered the newspapers into the postboxes.
Eventually, he arrived at the villa by the brook and was taken aback. The girl was waiting at the gate this morning as well, holding a red umbrella in one hand. Blue, clumsy looking boots covered her slender legs. They did not fit those legs at all.
Once the girl spotted Riku, a faint smile danced on her lips, part-delight and part-bashfulness.
Seeing that, the usually poised Riku felt his heart thumping loudly.
(She’s here today.)
That caused his heart to race and his body to heat up.
Riku handed the newspaper over, and spoke to her, his tone sounding strangely aloof even to himself.
“...Why are you waiting...for the newspaper, every day?”
The girl seemed to be rattled. She looked down at her feet and brought the umbrella handle close to her flat chest. Then, while her fingers awkwardly fidgeted around, she replied in a teeny-weeny voice, “I am interested...in the serialized novel.”
Her cheeks and collarbone were beetroot red. The raindrops pelted the umbrella and the raincoat threatening to overpower the girl’s already soft voice.
“Novel?” asked Riku.
The girl nodded back.
“Ye-yes. I want to read the next installment as soon as possible, even a minute sooner if possible…”
She lowered her eyes, trying her best to keep the conversation going.
And that, in turn, made Riku listen with bated breath.
“That novel is...really interesting... It
feels warm, happy, everyone gets along well...”
The tips of the girl’s elegant lips rose slowly, forming a smile.
“It describes a wonderful family...”
The girl’s gentle smile and genial voice caused Riku’s heart to skip a beat.
And then, he felt a sharp pain of anguish, and sweetness, and lots of other conflicting emotions ──
“...I see.”
The tips of the girl’s elegant lips rose slowly, forming a smile.
“It describes a wonderful family...”
The girl’s gentle smile and genial voice caused Riku’s heart to skip a beat.
And then, he felt a sharp pain of anguish, and sweetness, and lots of other conflicting emotions ──
“...I see.”
— he muttered an emotionless response.
The girl continued to smile, her happiness genuine and clear.
Riku averted his eyes and stepped on the pedal.
“It must be tough for you to have to deliver even on rainy days...! Please take care of yourself!”
The slightly old-fashioned words mixed with the murmur of the rain caught up with him as he was leaving.
A feeling of warmth spread over his face. It lingered there even though the spacious skies above remained heavy with leaden clouds of rain.
Riku never read the serialized novel.
There was no way he would know anything about it.
But he saw the girl being so elated, and the novel might certainly be as she described it - one depicting a harmonious, happy family. Since she was looking forward to the novel every morning, she was surely living in such a warm, kind family.
That must have been why she looked and sounded so clean and gentle, without a hint of malice.
Riku imagined the girl reading. The room was filled with gentle lights, and she was kneeling on the floor, the newspaper laid out, her eyes sparkling as she followed the story. Next to her, there was a warm, gentle presence. Riku could feel that presence just by imagining the scene.
At the same time, he was growing increasingly convinced that he should not interfere with the girl’s life and his pursed lips squeezed shut tighter than before.
◇◇◇
(He spoke to me for the first time.)
The boy with the raincoat wrapped around him pedalled off. Chise watched the slender, feeble, immature looking back vanish in the rain. She embraced the newspaper and the umbrella handle firmly.
Her cheeks were scalding.
She had just received her newspaper and spoke to the boy.
(Maybe he might find it weird however, since I have been waiting for him every morning...)
The boots on Chise’s feet had been borrowed from the housekeeper, Andou-san. She trudged across the damp mud in the overly large footwear and returned to the house.
(But even so, I am happy.)
Chise recalled the deep voice that rumbled in her ears, and her heart raced.
Over the week, Chise had been at the gate every morning, waiting for the boy.
Initially, she had worried that if she kept waiting for the boy like this every day, he might feel perturbed, or even weirded out by her.
But when the sunlight showed itself from behind the peak, Chise would naturally wake up, and loiter around at the garden with the watering can, fiddle with the cucumber vines, or pinch at the tomatoes, waiting for the sounds of the bicycle arriving.
Then, looking down the path, she would see the skinny boy with cold eyes riding on the bicycle all the way to the postbox.
She would hurry over to him, and gingerly receive the newspaper with both hands.
“Go-good morning.Thank you very much.”
A polite bow and greeting from her, a quiet bow from him, and he would leave again.
The more frequent it got, the bolder Chise started to feel. At times, she would wonder whether it would be unnatural for her to not go out on this day since she had been receiving the newspaper in person every morning. That would, unwittingly, cause her to brood, and she would keep struggling with it alone in her room.
But in the end, her desire to meet him would triumph, and she would skip out to the courtyard.
The girl continued to smile, her happiness genuine and clear.
Riku averted his eyes and stepped on the pedal.
“It must be tough for you to have to deliver even on rainy days...! Please take care of yourself!”
The slightly old-fashioned words mixed with the murmur of the rain caught up with him as he was leaving.
A feeling of warmth spread over his face. It lingered there even though the spacious skies above remained heavy with leaden clouds of rain.
Riku never read the serialized novel.
There was no way he would know anything about it.
But he saw the girl being so elated, and the novel might certainly be as she described it - one depicting a harmonious, happy family. Since she was looking forward to the novel every morning, she was surely living in such a warm, kind family.
That must have been why she looked and sounded so clean and gentle, without a hint of malice.
Riku imagined the girl reading. The room was filled with gentle lights, and she was kneeling on the floor, the newspaper laid out, her eyes sparkling as she followed the story. Next to her, there was a warm, gentle presence. Riku could feel that presence just by imagining the scene.
At the same time, he was growing increasingly convinced that he should not interfere with the girl’s life and his pursed lips squeezed shut tighter than before.
◇◇◇
(He spoke to me for the first time.)
The boy with the raincoat wrapped around him pedalled off. Chise watched the slender, feeble, immature looking back vanish in the rain. She embraced the newspaper and the umbrella handle firmly.
Her cheeks were scalding.
She had just received her newspaper and spoke to the boy.
(Maybe he might find it weird however, since I have been waiting for him every morning...)
The boots on Chise’s feet had been borrowed from the housekeeper, Andou-san. She trudged across the damp mud in the overly large footwear and returned to the house.
(But even so, I am happy.)
Chise recalled the deep voice that rumbled in her ears, and her heart raced.
Over the week, Chise had been at the gate every morning, waiting for the boy.
Initially, she had worried that if she kept waiting for the boy like this every day, he might feel perturbed, or even weirded out by her.
But when the sunlight showed itself from behind the peak, Chise would naturally wake up, and loiter around at the garden with the watering can, fiddle with the cucumber vines, or pinch at the tomatoes, waiting for the sounds of the bicycle arriving.
Then, looking down the path, she would see the skinny boy with cold eyes riding on the bicycle all the way to the postbox.
She would hurry over to him, and gingerly receive the newspaper with both hands.
“Go-good morning.Thank you very much.”
A polite bow and greeting from her, a quiet bow from him, and he would leave again.
The more frequent it got, the bolder Chise started to feel. At times, she would wonder whether it would be unnatural for her to not go out on this day since she had been receiving the newspaper in person every morning. That would, unwittingly, cause her to brood, and she would keep struggling with it alone in her room.
But in the end, her desire to meet him would triumph, and she would skip out to the courtyard.
On the second and third day, she could see
that he was somewhat shocked by her actions. But on the fourth, Chise
accidentally overslept. She was late, so she snatched the straw hat to cover
her messy hair and huffed and puffed hurrying to the outside. The boy had
parked his bicycle before the postbox and was looking up towards her room.
He seemed to be wondering why she hadn’t showed up.
Once the boy noticed her, he hastily looked aside, and would not look her in the eyes when he handed the newspaper over.
He looked more aloof than usual, but yet, somehow, it seemed that he was being shy.
(Was he, waiting for me...?)
Chise felt her heart throb as she thought that.
Still looking more aloof than usual, the boy reached out with his tanned, lanky arm and handed over the still-warm newspaper.
A simple touch alone caused warmth to spread from her fingertips, and her lips naturally bloomed into a smile.
The freshly printed pages surely felt warm. The boy would sort them before the sky was bright, lay them into the basket and on the backseat of his bicycle, and then deliver them to countless households. Did he too watch the rays of sunlight appear from beyond the peak like glowing shafts of arrows illuminating the ground as he cycled?
She watched the silhouette of his back fade away with those thought at the back of her head.
After that, Chise laid out the newspaper on the floor, and would continue to look at the words and photos printed on the pages until Andou-san’s call for breakfast from downstairs.
She saw news of a building fire near a certain train station at Tokyo resulting in major delays, and was inadvertently worried as a result. When she saw that a Japanese player did well at a world tennis tournament, she cheered. When she saw news of a puppy saved from a flowing river, she beamed heartily.
She read the 4-koma, and chuckled. She read the unexpected developments of the serialized novel, and her palms covered in sweat. There were many questions in the life advice column, like “There is a graveyard being built next door and I still have a 35-year long mortgage on my house. What do I do?”, “My boyfriend is being transferred to the Galapagos Islands. Should I go along?” and Chise started to wonder seriously what she should do if these events were to happen to her.
Chise also loved to spread the pamphlets out like a fan, inspecting them one by one.
She looked at them with excitement, muttering to herself, “ah, the green peppers seem cheaper today... There is an exhibition of Kyushu produce at the department store. The instant dangos look delicious. And red beans poured on piping hot sweet potatoes too... Ah, there’s a doll festival of the local mascots at the top floor.”
In fact, she had never experienced visiting a supermarket or a convenience store, but just looking at the pamphlet alone was enough for her imagination to go wild. The thin grey paper had a faint fragrance similar to that of the newspaper’s and everything printed on those pages represented a vast world Chise knew nothing of. There were various opinions and thoughts published inside, none of them being what Chise expected.
For such things to be happening in the outside world.
For such major events to actually have happened in the past.
It was unlikely that Chise would encounter and experience most of the incidents described, so reading about them made her gasp.
(News are interesting.)
From that day on Chise watched all the TV programmes, and even in them, she found various delights and new discoveries.
She was amazed by the multitude of TV channels and began to watch various different fantasy shows.
She would also get into a habit of cutting out clippings of her favorite news or advertisements, and pasting them into a sketchbook.
Then, she would use signature pens with pastel colors to write down her thoughts, or would put stickers of animals or cakes.
Just thinking about these alone caused her to feel elated.
Thus, before writing to her parents or friends, Chise would always check the sketchbook. By doing so, paragraphs like—
“Dad, mom, I am feeling energetic every day. I am enjoying myself.”
—would come naturally with no pretense in those words. Every morning, Chise would be happily waiting by the postbox, waiting for the boy riding the bicycle. She was always looking forward to opening the newspaper the boy delivered, and for every article she read, for every clipping she pasted, she felt a heartfelt bond with the boy, which delighted her to no end.
And the boy had talked to her!
Chise kept flipping the pages, her thoughts returning to that moment over and over again.
He seemed to be wondering why she hadn’t showed up.
Once the boy noticed her, he hastily looked aside, and would not look her in the eyes when he handed the newspaper over.
He looked more aloof than usual, but yet, somehow, it seemed that he was being shy.
(Was he, waiting for me...?)
Chise felt her heart throb as she thought that.
Still looking more aloof than usual, the boy reached out with his tanned, lanky arm and handed over the still-warm newspaper.
A simple touch alone caused warmth to spread from her fingertips, and her lips naturally bloomed into a smile.
The freshly printed pages surely felt warm. The boy would sort them before the sky was bright, lay them into the basket and on the backseat of his bicycle, and then deliver them to countless households. Did he too watch the rays of sunlight appear from beyond the peak like glowing shafts of arrows illuminating the ground as he cycled?
She watched the silhouette of his back fade away with those thought at the back of her head.
After that, Chise laid out the newspaper on the floor, and would continue to look at the words and photos printed on the pages until Andou-san’s call for breakfast from downstairs.
She saw news of a building fire near a certain train station at Tokyo resulting in major delays, and was inadvertently worried as a result. When she saw that a Japanese player did well at a world tennis tournament, she cheered. When she saw news of a puppy saved from a flowing river, she beamed heartily.
She read the 4-koma, and chuckled. She read the unexpected developments of the serialized novel, and her palms covered in sweat. There were many questions in the life advice column, like “There is a graveyard being built next door and I still have a 35-year long mortgage on my house. What do I do?”, “My boyfriend is being transferred to the Galapagos Islands. Should I go along?” and Chise started to wonder seriously what she should do if these events were to happen to her.
Chise also loved to spread the pamphlets out like a fan, inspecting them one by one.
She looked at them with excitement, muttering to herself, “ah, the green peppers seem cheaper today... There is an exhibition of Kyushu produce at the department store. The instant dangos look delicious. And red beans poured on piping hot sweet potatoes too... Ah, there’s a doll festival of the local mascots at the top floor.”
In fact, she had never experienced visiting a supermarket or a convenience store, but just looking at the pamphlet alone was enough for her imagination to go wild. The thin grey paper had a faint fragrance similar to that of the newspaper’s and everything printed on those pages represented a vast world Chise knew nothing of. There were various opinions and thoughts published inside, none of them being what Chise expected.
For such things to be happening in the outside world.
For such major events to actually have happened in the past.
It was unlikely that Chise would encounter and experience most of the incidents described, so reading about them made her gasp.
(News are interesting.)
From that day on Chise watched all the TV programmes, and even in them, she found various delights and new discoveries.
She was amazed by the multitude of TV channels and began to watch various different fantasy shows.
She would also get into a habit of cutting out clippings of her favorite news or advertisements, and pasting them into a sketchbook.
Then, she would use signature pens with pastel colors to write down her thoughts, or would put stickers of animals or cakes.
Just thinking about these alone caused her to feel elated.
Thus, before writing to her parents or friends, Chise would always check the sketchbook. By doing so, paragraphs like—
“Dad, mom, I am feeling energetic every day. I am enjoying myself.”
—would come naturally with no pretense in those words. Every morning, Chise would be happily waiting by the postbox, waiting for the boy riding the bicycle. She was always looking forward to opening the newspaper the boy delivered, and for every article she read, for every clipping she pasted, she felt a heartfelt bond with the boy, which delighted her to no end.
And the boy had talked to her!
Chise kept flipping the pages, her thoughts returning to that moment over and over again.
—...Why, are you waiting...for the newspaper, every day?”
His voice was deep, mature.
The raindrops flowed down the cap of the raincoat, and the expression hidden beneath looked colder than usual. Chise's heart was jumping madly, and she answered that she was interested in the serialized novel.
—That
novel is...really interesting...it feels warm, happy, everyone gets along well...
Yes, that was right.
The newspaper the boy delivered did contain
such a wonderful story.
It was set amidst the old streets of post-War
Japan, and the family described in it was full of kindred feelings, warm and
calming, yet grasping at Chise's heartstrings. Their everyday life was so...
Her pink lips smiled on her own.
—It talks of a wonderful family…
Chise muttered that phrase again, warmth
filling her heart.
—...Is
that so?
The boy’s answer was emotionless and he cycled
off while ignoring the rain falling on him.
(I spoke to the delivery boy)
Chise was simply elated by this.
(How old is he? What is his name?)
Before she realized, she was thinking only
about him.
“The newspaper boy?”
“He-he appears to be...a high school boy. Is
he a part-timer?”
Chise dug into the mushroom omelette,
stammering as she questioned Andou-san. The woman smiled and replied without
hesitation.
“That should be Riku-kun, I guess.”
“Riku-kun...?”
So the boy was Riku-kun.
Chise carefully stored the name in her heart.
“Riku-kun is not a high school student,
though. He’s a third year of the middle school, just like you, Chise-san.”
(We are in the same year!)
The delight could melt her cheeks, filling up
her heart along with the surprise.
The boy looked so mature and poised, that
Chise had mistakenly assumed him to be older by a year or two. Unexpectedly, he
was a ninth-grader, just like her.
But even then, Chise could not possibly become
his classmate, for she studied at a girls school. Her heart was beating madly
all the same, though.
Riku had no father, and lived alone with his
mother. He had been delivering newspapers since the first year of middle school,
to earn some extra income for the family.
He was an honest, admirable boy.
Chise too found Riku to be pretty independent.
(Riku-kun is the same year as me, but is
already working for his mother...his mother needs him, and he became his
mother’s support...)
Even without a father, he could live on with
his mother, both of them depending on each other.
Naturally, Chise imagined a kind, happy
family.
—It
talks of a wonderful family…
Yes, just like the happy family depicted in
the newspaper's serialized story.
Chise's heart started to fill with warmth
again, but there was some loneliness there too.
She finished her breakfast. The rain outside
remained strong. She looked out of the window, reminiscing about Riku.
(Riku-kun should be done delivering newspapers…)
How did he spend the summer vacation?
Did he go out to play with friends?
He always had his lips pursed. His eyes looked
so cold and mature all the time. Was he able to smile in front of his family
and friends?
(How does Riku-kun look when he smiles…?)
"I wish to say a few more words...to
Riku-kun…"
The summer downpour kept drenching the window
pane. The trees in the garden, the fence, and the postbox all stood quietly
looking so forlorn.
"I want to say a few more words to
Riku-kun…"
As soon as she said this, Chise felt like
someone was eavesdropping on her and, shocked, she instinctively looked towards
the door with a blush.
"Ti-time to hurry with the assignments.
Sooner I finish, the earlier I can play."
Chise faked her usual good mood as she
muttered to herself, and looked towards the desk again. At that moment, the
cellphone on the shelf suddenly came alive and chimed an uplifting melody.
She picked it up, had a look at the screen,
gasped.
In a trembling voice, she muttered,
"Mother…"
◇◇◇
"You're alone, Arimura?"
The day after the rain it was sunny ever since
morning.
Riku finished delivering the newspapers and
went to school. His homeroom teacher was a veteran, and immediately frowned
once he saw Riku enter the classroom.
It was the last day of the career guidance
tripartite meeting period.
Before the summer vacation had started, Riku
had received a notice that a guardian was to accompany him to school. Riku had
left it on the table for his mother to see, but given her state, one had to
wonder if she actually had.
Maybe she even had, but even then, she would
probably have forgotten about it.
That had always been the case.
"Is your mother too busy with work?"
The homeroom teacher knew of Riku's family
circumstances.
He had been Riku's homeroom teacher back when
Riku had been in seventh grade. He made a family visit to Riku's house then, an
old apartment. Riku's mother came back home late at night.
And once she saw the teacher seated in the
living room, she slurred a question.
"Oh my, sensei? Did Riku do anything bad?
How weird. Riku is a serious boy unlike me."
The woman reeked of alcohol, and she kept
hammering at the teacher. Then, she just fell asleep on the tatami with the
fading makeup still on her face.
Riku just laid a blanket over her body. Seeing
this, the teacher showed neither excessive pity nor much annoyance.
All he said was, "if anything happens,
come talk to me."
Ever since then, the parent-teacher talks
would only involve Riku and the homeroom teacher.
Thus, hearing the teacher's question that
morning, Riku merely muttered, "she's not at home now."
"I see."
The teacher gave him a serious look, but did
not pursue the matter further and just had Riku sit down.
Riku's mother was often busy for various
reasons, but never because of work. Whenever she left home for longer, nobody
could guess when she would return.
Riku's teacher knew this very well.
And so, Riku sat opposite his teacher.
"Arimura, have you been eating
well?" asked the man nonchalantly.
"Yes."
Riku answered tersely. The teacher nodded in
approval, brought out the progress plans Riku had submitted and proceeded to
the matter at hand.
"You filled in just one desired
option."
"...That's the only public school I can
study at."
"Given your grades, you can try for any
school. Why not aim for a private high school? We can give you a recommendation
to attend Izumigaoka."
"...Never thought about it."
The discussion ended soon after that. Riku
lowered his head and bowed before leaving the classroom.
It was the afternoon, and the corridors during
the summer vacation were rather quiet, but there still were a few students here
and there attending club activities. There was the sound of clashing bamboo
swords coming from the gym, or balls bouncing, or even the rare faint chirpings
of the crickets.
Riku arrived at the arts classroom near the
gym, situated at the first floor.
It was also the room of the Arts Club.
The middle school Riku attended mandated that
all students had to join a club, so Riku joined that one.
There was a canvas on the rack, with half-done
scenery drawn on the surface. It was the path Riku had to pass every morning
when he delivered the newspapers, and the hills behind it on the horizon.
Riku sat on the chair, picked up a brush, and
started applying colors.
Initially, he wanted to draw a morning
scenery.
But for some reason, the colors on the canvas
turned out to have the palette of a sunset.
—Given
your grades, you can try for any school. Why not aim for a private high school?
We can give you a recommendation to attend Izumigaoka.
Izumigaoka High School was the only one with
an arts module in this area, which was probably why the teacher asked. He
surely must have seen Riku drawing alone in the arts classroom after school, or
during the breaks.
Riku liked to draw.
Since the moment he could think for himself,
he had not involved himself with soccer, baseball or video games. Instead, he
had spent his childhood drawing pictures everywhere, even on the back of
adverts or on the dirt.
Surely it was because this form of
entertaining himself did not require money and he could keep playing alone.
Whenever Riku drew, he could focus to the point of ignoring the existence of
the surrounding noises, voices, time, or even himself. That was why he loved to
draw.
Whenever he started to draw, he would turn
oblivious to whether his mother was home, or even forget his meals. Many times,
he found it was morning by the time he was done.
Riku really wanted to keep drawing, but he had
to stop and go out to deliver newspapers. Whenever he left home, he would feel
something was being torn out from him.
He wanted to draw more.
He wanted to keep drawing for entire days.
If possible, he wanted to attend a school with
an arts module.
As the teacher had said, given his grades, surely he could get a recommendation to Izumigaoka.
But the family finances would not allow for
him to attend a private high school. Izumigaoka in particular was really far
away and an exorbitant amount of money would be required for commuting alone.
Whenever his mother found a new lover, she
would not return to the apartment. Thus, Riku had to find his own way to earn a
living for those periods. So far he had barely managed to scrape by with the
salary earned from delivering newspapers and he knew very well Izumigaoka was
not a school he could attend.
He faced the canvas, flicking his wrist, and
nearly forgot to breathe. For him, moments like this one were the 'real
reality'.
From time to time, he could hear the energetic
yells, the sounds of the bouncing balls, or the clashing sounds of the bamboo
blades. However, while Riku was alone in the arts classroom, the room became so
tranquil it seemed to be secluded from the world outside.
And so, Riku focused on applying colors. At
this moment, someone suddenly opened the door with a loud bang.
"Ah, you're here after all!"
Witha a noise so loud that it caused ears to
ring, a girl ran into the classroom. A closer look at her clothes revealed that
the hem of her blouse and skirt were shortened.
She was Ozaki Suzuka, Riku's classmate.
This girl had short hair, waxed to keep it
fixed in position. Her eyelashes were long and curly. At school, she was
considered to be eye-catching, trendy.
Ever since the two of them had became
classmates in their third year of middle school, she kept clinging to him.
Truth be told, however, Riku did not want to get too involved with her.
"You had a parent-teacher meeting today,
so I thought you'll come to the arts classroom. I was right!" she said
with glee, opening her bright red lips and mouth wide with every word.
He wondered how did she know that his
appointment had been set for today, but he said nothing. He rather disliked
interacting with others, let alone people like Suzuka who would intrude on
other people without a second thought. She was the kind of person he had the
most difficulty handling.
So, he remained silent and kept drawing.
Suzuka paid no attention to Riku’s attitude as she took the initiative to head
to his side, brought her face close to the canvas, and stared at his work.
"This is the path by the brook,
right?"
"..."
"Hmm, sure seems like it."
"..."
"This looks like the entrance to the
forest. Am I right?"
"..."
"This sunset looks really pretty. I love
the sunset, when the sun's about to disappear, the clouds glow, and the skies
turn pink."
Riku showed no reaction to anything Suzuka had
said. The girl lost her patience and brought her face close to Riku.
"Arimura,” she muttered, “you're always
drawing scenery or still art. You haven't drawn a person before. You are not
very interested in people, right?"
"..."
"Do you want me to be your model? I can
let you draw me right now."
"...No need."
If Riku was to remain silent, Suzuka might
really end up posing on the table, so he forced himself to reply while facing
the canvas, not lifting his head up.
(Just go back.)
He swallowed those words, barely holding back
from giving them voice.
Suzuka puffed her cheeks up.
"Why do you say that? Why are you so
annoying?"
(If you find me annoying, just leave.)
Riku had no intention of being alone with a
person he could not get along with.
Suzuka continued to bend over and she leaned
towards Riku slowly.
"You always keep a frown, Arimura. You
look gloomy and bored, your eyes are cold. I've never seen you smile before.
Have you never felt happy in your life?" she grumbled.
However, Riku just felt she was sticking her
nose where she wasn’t wanted.
"Nothing to do with you, Ozaki."
"See, you're so cold when you talk. I
don't mind, but any other girl would cry. That's why you have no friends. If
you keep this attitude while looking for a job, I bet that you'll fail your
first round of interviews."
(I don't have anything to do with you,) Riku
thought impatiently, (so just...)
Suzuka smiled once more.
"So I want you to be a little happier.
Try drawing me. Make me pose however you like."
Riku continued to scowl. Suzuka would not
budge.
So he decided to just let her continue talking
and keep ignoring her.
However...
"Say something already!", she
yelled.
He had enough.
His mother was an emotional person, prone to
random episodes of smiling and hollering, or sudden outbursts of rage, only to
bawl her eyes out and cup her shoulders soon after.
Whenever his mother was not at home, the
cramped two room apartment seemed exceptionally quiet. Whenever his mother
broke up with men however, the room got rowdy the very moment she reached home.
Suzuka really resembled Riku's mother.
Or perhaps was it that all women were so
boisterous and prone to mood swings?
Riku kept applying orange colors of the sunset
to the branch filled with rich green leaves. At the same time, his mind thought
of the white ribbon fluttering in the air.
(If it's the girl from the cottage…)
An apprehensive smile appeared in his mind.
She was unlike the women Riku knew, different,
serene and innocent.
He recalled the fairy he had seen by the brook
in the forest. There were hints of that fairy in that girl with long flowing
black hair.
Just this morning, she was again waiting
apprehensively at the entrance for Riku, and upon seeing him, bashfully approached
the postbox, reached with her delicate hands, and received the newspaper.
--Thank
you.
She thanked her with that teeny-weeny voice of
hers, and then slowly lifted her head, as if waiting for him to speak up.
If it had been that gentle, demure girl, if
both of them were together, the atmosphere would be peaceful. Riku would never
be annoyed hearing her soft, delicate voice. Even if it happened over and over
again.
Suzuka continued to yap away next to him, but
he ignored her callously. Unwittingly, he thought back to the girl wearing that
straw hat. He wondered what he should say to her. Of course, he knew very well
she was a princess of a high standing who was spending her summer holiday in a
vintage residence, attended by a helper. She was not a person he could easily
approach.
(What...is that girl doing now?)
◇◇◇
With a serious look, Chise flipped over the
pudding cup and put the contents on the plate.
What dropped out of the container was not
pudding, but something with three layers of color - green, pink, and yellow.
Once she saw the thing land perfectly onto the plate, she broke into a smile.
"It is done."
She had prepared it according to a recipe published
in the newspaper, one for a summer appetizer jelly.
The layers were green okra, pink crab meat,
and yellow sweet pepper.
The completed jelly was vibrant in color,
dazzling, and cute. Chise heaved a sigh of relief, and Andou-san too couldn’t
take her eyes off it.
"My, how pretty," she marvelled.
It was lunchtime.
Chise had requested for Andou-san to allow her
the use of the kitchen to make the dish. Outwardly, it appeared to be a
success.
The plate ended up containing the jelly, salad
made from spinach and cherry tomatoes, and the chicken mushroom quiche
Andou-san had baked the previous day. The meal was topped off by a freshly
baked baguette and honey. It was served with mixed vegetable juice, and the
after-meal drink would be warm milk tea.
Truly it was the best of lunches.
Chise picked up the fork, cut off a bit of the
jelly, and placed it into her mouth.
"Delicious…"
The ingredients were mixed in correct
proportions, just as described in the recipe, which made it all the more
delicious. The natural sweetness of the vegetables and crab gradually melted
away on the tongue, and the smooth texture certainly helped the taste.
And the summer heat went along very well with
the cooling saltiness, making it even more delicious.
She cut the piping hot baguette in half, and
ate it together with the jelly. The interplay of hotness and coldness sharpened
the sweetness of the crab.
(In the next letter to Father and Mother I
shall write that I made a delicious dish for lunch, and that I want them to
taste it.)
Chise thought of how she had another
'wonderful experience' she could to report to her parents, her cheeks blooming
with joy.
Andou-san was all smiles watching her through
narrowed eyes.
"You'll make a wonderful wife when you
grow older, Chise-san."
"I simply followed the recipe from the
newspaper. It is easy to understand, and anyone can easily follow it. It is
really helpful,” replied the girl shyly.
"Thank goodness I had the shop deliver
the newspaper every day. You really like to read them."
Chise could not reply with her real reason,
that she was looking forward to seeing Riku deliver the newspaper every
morning, so her voice got shrill when she said, "y-yes...Father always
bought four different newspapers to read...so I am interested in them…"
"This is an amazing interest to have.'
"...Thank you."
Chise's shoulders sagged under her blushing
cheeks.
"Your parents should be here for summer
vacation now, no? Hopefully they have the time to come read newspapers and
enjoy themselves."
Andou-san's careless words caused Chise's
heart to be gripped by a vise, and the hand holding the spoon suddenly started
to feel stone-cold and stone-still.
(I have to smile.)
Her cheeks did their utmost to obey the
thought.
Chise helped Andou-san clear the cutlery, put
on the straw hat, took the letter and the postcard she had written the previous
day, and went for a stroll.
She passed the fence, the sight of the red
postbox on the other side made her smile. Green grass grew by the side of the
soft brown path outside the villa, so she was wearing her slippers for this
outing.
The sky was clear and cloudless, a dream of a
weather compared to the downpour the previous day. The sun was high up over
horizon, but was not as violently scorching as when walking the on the asphalts
of Tokyo.
It’s rays after the rain looked brighter than
ever.
For every step she took, her dress would be
ruffled by a pleasant breeze, and her hair would flutter before her chest. The
gusts of wind blew at her neck, and it felt really comfortable.
The vineyards and farms Chise passed by were
all sceneries Chise had discovered on her first day here. She watched the
fields excitedly as she slowly advanced down along the brook.
Then, she finally reached the asphalt path.
There were a few shops here, a convenience store, a rice shop, a newsagent, and
a postbox.
Chise slipped the letter through the slit, and
walked away. She would wander like this for a long time.
Once she was tired, she went to a nearby tree
to rest.
And then, she took out the bottle of mineral
water she bought from the vending machine.
(This might be rather inelegant of me...)
Chise looked around to see if anyone was
watching, before bringing the PET bottle to her lips, and taking a large gulp.
The icy fluid moistened her throat.
It was just mineral water, yet it tasted
especially sweet to her.
It was really delicious.
She brought the cool PET bottle to her
scalding cheeks, and they felt better immediately. It felt comfortable.
Then, she slipped the bottle into the cloth
bag slung over her shoulder, and walked off again.
On the way, she saw a bus stop. She stopped,
and had a look at the timetable. There was only one bus per hour or so.
Andou-san had said previously that it would take her to the city, which had a
department store and a cinema.
(Does Riku-kun go to movies...?)
And again, Chise was thinking about Riku.
Whenever she did so, she felt something sweet
and beautiful fill her heart.
It was still early.
(If I go to where I met Riku-kun for the first
time, will I meet him again...?)
Of course, such coincidences did not happen on
demand.
But the moment Chise thought about it, she
felt elated. She made her way back along the asphalt to the dirt path, and
advanced down the brook again.
The clear river water trickled between the
rocks, whispering of pleasant coolness that made her nearly forget the summer
afternoon heat.
When she almost reached the forest where she
had met Riku on the day her straw hat had been carried to the tallest, thickest
tree, suddenly...
There was a gust of wind.
Chise’s straw hat was nearly blown away,
again, but she managed to hurriedly hold it down with both hands.
The wind rattled the trees revealing a tanned,
skinny boy with a mature expression that seemed to stand in front of her.
But once the wind stopped, she saw there was
no one there.
It made her feel despondent.
But even so, the clear sunlight beamed through
the trees and the breeze continued to the caress the leaves gently. Chise
looked up at the tree of the hat, recalled how the white ribbon had once been
dangling from its top, and smiled.
She approached it slowly, wrapped her arms
around it, and leaned her ear against the bark.
She could barely hear what seemed to be water
flowing inside the thick trunk.
This was the sound of a tree.
(This tree is alive...)
Surely, this tree would remember the day she
had met Riku. And not just that day and the two of them. There had been many
more people who had rested under its shade, or passed by its trunk.
Chise herself had lived for a mere 15 years,
and this tree had lived at least ten times that. She listened to the pulse of
the tree, her sadness slowly seeping away. She was calm again.
The previous day, her mother had contacted
her.
She reminded Chise that while the girl could
enter college without needing to sit through exams, Chise should not be
slacking off in her studies. Then she added one more thing.
──Your
father and I are discussing certain matters. We will notify you of any
developments.
She ended the call with that line.
What was this ‘development’? The word made her
heart freeze. Chise’s parents had intended for her to spend the summer vacation
at the villa, and she had a feeling she knew what was happening.
But...
By closing her eyes and embracing the warm
tree trunk, she felt she could make her sadness be carried away by the water
flowing through the tree.
(Once I get back to the villa, I will write
another letter.)
One each to her parents.
With only happy words full of wonder.
“This is a nice place.”
“It makes me feel happy.”
“I will be happier if everyone can come here.”
◇◇◇
Riku opened the packet containing two slices
of bread, and started to nibble on the food as he kept drawing.
His uncompromisingly aloof stance made Suzuka
exclaim, “none of the other boys ignored me like this!” and storm out of the
arts classroom in a huff.
Riku did not really pay any heed to that. He
just kept quietly nibbling away at the bread in his hand.
Back when Riku had been doing his sketching at
home, he found eating to be too much of a hassle, so he just filled his stomach
with bread as a substitute for proper meal. Ever since then, he would sate his
hunger with bread whenever he was alone.
He did not use butter or jam.
He was fine with eating bland stuff, as long
as it filled his stomach.
His mother never once cooked at home, and thus
Riku himself was not too picky about the taste of food.
Suzuka said that Riku “always looked bored.”
But he had simply never understood the concept of joy..
The joy Riku felt when drawing seemed a little
different from the ‘joy’ his classmates talked of.
His heart was barely moved by things when he
wasn’t drawing. Perhaps it was for this reason that he had always looked bored,
as Suzuka had said.
But to lose control of emotions was a
dangerous thing, and it was better for him to remain as he was
Back in elementary school, Riku had once
experienced outrage.
Back then, a boy in his class bad-mouthed his
mother in a cliché manner. The words used wer nauseating, crude, but the boy
was telling the truth. And that enraged Riku all the more, his eyes blazing
with flames of hatred.
A wild beast seemed to have awakened to run
rampant within him, and the next moment, he leapt towards the that classmate.
Riku pinned the offender down, grabbed him by
the collar, and slammed two, three punches into the face.
One moment, his classmate was so uppity, full
of slanderous, filthy words. The next, his head was busted, and he lay
shrivelled on the floor, begging for mercy. The other boys, that heaped scorn
on Riku just a moment before, too were terrified, and stumbled back.
These guys are weak.
Even after a few years, recalling that
incident now, Riku remembered that after calming down, a thought had occurred
to him.
Humans were fragile.
Punch them, and they would bleed.
And break.
Not just physically, but also emotionally.
If he wanted to beat the person up, his hands
could easily do so. They might even kill.
Once Riku understood this, he chained his own
soul to prevent himself from losing control ever again.
Since then, no matter what anyone had said
about his mother, Riku had only responded with silence. After a long time like
that, nothing could rattle his heart easily.
Bitterness, pain, sadness, joy, elation, he
felt none of them.
All that remained in Riku’s heart was a desire
to draw. At any given moment.
He remained alone, in the empty classroom,
drawing and thinking.
Soon, he would have to leave the school
building, and head to the shop to deliver the newspapers.
To deliver the evening newspapers, return
home, do some sketching, and go to sleep early so that he could deliver
newspapers the next morning...
Riku never thought of having ordinary parents,
or wanting a luxurious life.
He had no hopes for his own future.
Truth be told, the matter of further studies
did not matter to him either.
His one wish was to keep drawing, without any
distractions.
With a stoic look, Riku swallowed the last bit
of his bread.
◇◇◇
Chise’s dinner today was tomato soup Andou-san
had cooked, followed by summer vegetables, a large lump of mashed potatoes,
mūniēre, and finally, milk-flavored bavarois with lots of muscat grapes.
Each dish was delicious, especially the
bavarois. The well-rounded sweetness filled the mouth with every bite, and so
enthralling it was that Chise was reluctant to finish it.
“Where did you go today?”
“I went to the convenience shop, the rice
shop, and the newsagent’s...”
This time, Andou-san took the initiative in
the conversation. Chise did her best to describe what she had seen outside.
“I felt really happy, even though it was just
a stroll,” said the girl with a smile.
(I never got to meet Riku-kun, but I went to
lots of places. I really enjoyed myself)
She had a delightful day.
She dropped the cutlery into the washbasin,
returned to her room on the second floor, and sat at the desk.
The envelope she took from the drawer had
refreshing summer motifs - fish, watermelons, and fireworks. Just looking at
the illustrations delighted her to no end.
On this day too, the desk was laid out with
coloring pens, and she pondered which color she should use.
The first message of the day was to be written
to a good friend from her class. That classmate went to Hawaii this summer
vacation with her entire family.
Just this afternoon, Chise received a postcard
from her.
The postcard was of a blue ocean, white beach,
and coconut trees. The girl wrote, in a neat round handwriting, that she was
spending the vacation with her parents, and they were enjoying themselves
together.
And at the very end of the letter she added
one more line.
“PS:
I’ll send you some messages!”
Chise checked her inbox and did indeed find a
few photos of her family attached to the messages from her friend. The entire
family was dressed in Hawaiian shirts, dancing hula, or eating blue ice pops.
(Yuina-chan’s parents...have patched things
up... Good for you, Yuina-chan.)
Chise looked down at the photos, smiling.
──My
parents may be having a divorce!
Yuina, crying her eyes out, had dropped that
bombshell on Chise on the first day of their end of terms exams.
It started when Chise saw Yuina look all
worried after the exams were done for the day.
“The comprehension part was really difficult.
I did not finish it either,” she said, trying to console her friend.
Yuina just bawled in reply.
“Chise-chan, what do I do now? Papa just had a
huge argument with Mama, they want to divorce.”
She sobbed constantly in-between the words.
The tea ceremony club activities were
suspended for the exam period, so Chise and Yuina went to the clubroom. Having
asking about the details, Chise soon learned why Yuina’s parents had their
argument.
On her mother’s birthday, Yuina’s father
unveiled a massage chair with the words, “this is what you wanted, right?”
Yuina’s mother had been hoping for some
branded jewellery or a fancy handbag, so seeing this threw her into a fit of
rage.
“You’re giving what to your 39-year-old wife
for her birthday!? Is this supposed to mean that I’m an old hag who needs a
massage chair? That’s just what you want! Didn’t your mouth water when you saw
the message chair at the electronics department store? Didn’t you say that you
want it? You just bought it for yourself!”
“What?! Aren’t you the one who said, ‘This is
reeaallly useful’ before sitting in it for so long? And when I said it’s my
turn, weren’t you all like ‘ah, wait, let me sit a little longer. Ahhhh... This
is heeaaaven!’”
“This never happened! And where are we going
to put such a large machine?! This apartment is so small!”
“Small?! When we were looking for a house, I
said to take the 3LDK at Hikifune, but you were like, ‘we’re staying in
Shirokane’. You’re reaching above your worth!”
“Now you’re blaming me?! Didn’t you agree and
say that we’ll move once you get promoted?! So?! When are you getting
promoted?!”
And eventually, in the heat of the argument,
her mother blurted out suddenly, “I had enough of you. Let’s divorce!”
“Humph! Let’s! Once I move out, this house
will feel bigger!” snapped back her father.
“Yuina, you’ll stand by mama’s side, right?”
“You’ll come with papa, right Yuina?”
Both of them turned on the dumbfounded Yuina
at once, putting her in a corner. They then told her she would have to decide
who she was going to live with.
“I can’t choose!”
Yuina bawled again.
“Yuina-chan, do not worry. Your parents are
just temporarily cross with each other. They will make amends once they calm
down.”
Chise kept encouraging Yuina like this over
and over again.
In fact, on the final morning of the exams,
Yuina was beaming away when she arrived at school. Before Chise could say good
morning, Yuina hugged her.
“They said they won’t be divorcing!” reported
Chise’s friend.
“Papa and mama asked me, ’have you decided who
do you want to live with?’ and I fell to the floor, crying that I want the
three of us to live together. They panicked and apologized to me. And said that
they’re not going to divorce after all.”
Yuina said happily that they decided to go to
Hawaii together for the summer vacation. She continued to prattle carelessly,
saying things like, “thank goodness papa and mama argued”...
It seemed the family was enjoying themselves
in Hawaii.
And in any case, they simply had a little
quarrel.
Chise was quietly relieved that Yuina’s
parents never got divorced but, at the same time, she felt a weak sting of pain
in her heart.
(Yuina’s parents are different from mine.)
A gentle, graceful father and a mother as
pretty as a flower, who would do her nails at the salon once every week.
When standing next to each other, the two of
them resembled a young couple, but Chise had never seen them quarrel before.
According to her memories, their relationship
had always been frigid. She could sense that both of them were trying to not
talk to each other.
Other parents she could see were always
smiling, looking happy, staying close to each other. Why were her parents
always scowling and silent?
Did father not like mother?
Did mother not like father?
The young Chise was always worried.
The matter of her parents not liking each
other was really terrifying to the little girl.
What should she do so that they could get
along well?
Chise kept thinking about it. So much so, that
her little head was overheating at times. When she was in the 4th grade, she
bought a shiny glass brooch for her mother’s birthday. She had the pretty big
sister in the shop wrap it real nicely and print her father’s name on the card.
She then left the package in her mother’s room.
Her mother would definitely assume it was a
present from her father, and maybe, just maybe her parents would start getting
along well like other parents did. The whole family might be able to eat
together and enjoy a meal happily. The whole family might go out to play
together.
Chise went to sleep full of hope. The next morning, when she went to the living room, her mother gave her a red box with a cold look on her face.
It was the very same little box that contained the brooch Chise had prepared, the one she had bought at the trendy store popular with girls. Once Chise realized this, her little face froze. Her mother spoke with voice as cold as her own face, “this brooch is too juvenile for me. This shall be for you, Chise,” she said.
Chise felt her body go numb with coldness.
Her mother knew it was her who had given the gift.
Now that she thought about it, Chise’s father, surely, would not choose this cheap trinket of a glass brooch.
And, surely, her mother would not wear such a thing.
A few days later, Chise heard a rare conversation between her parents.
She woke at night, wanting to use the toilet. While on the corridor, she overheard their voices.
She ended up eavesdropping.
“So you returned the brooch to Chise?”
Her father seemed to be reproaching her mother.
Chise shivered, and inadvertently held her breath as she listened intently.
“For what occasions exactly do you want me to wear that fake brooch? That child might at least look cute wearing it instead,” retorted the woman impatiently.
“As a mother, you should have pretended not to notice and accept it happily. You cannot even do that?”
“Oh? And what right do you have to be angry? You never went to supervise Chise’s school lessons or attend her sports festival. Most of the time, you tend to forget that you have a daughter. Seeing you try to act like a father now is laughable.”
“Lady, you are cold as ice. Terrifyingly so.”
“And you always excuse yourself by criticizing me. Any birthday present you give me is a ruse. Chise will understand when she grows up. Her parents are not a marriage, just registered strangers.”
Chise shivered, and quietly walked away from the door.
She returned to her room, ducked under the sheets, and blocked her ears. However, her parents’ conversation kept echoing in her mind.
With each repetition, the heart area oh her chest would tighten, and she would struggle for breath drenched in cold sweat.
Chise’s actions had been futile.
Moreover, they backfired.
Her father rebuked her mother, and her mother was furious at her father.
It was all her fault.
It is her fault for using father’s name to gift mother such a cheap, childish brooch.
She had never realized before that mother would only wear real gemstones.
Chise’s eyes threatened to tear up, but she willed herself calm with the thought that she should not cry. She bit the edge of her blanket, trying her best to suppress her tears.
If she cried, her eyes would be swollen.
If her father saw that she had cried, he would blame her mother, and her mother would think she was a troublesome child.
(Right, I cannot cry! I just need to pretend that I did not hear those words.)
The next day, her parents would not look each other in the eye. The atmosphere in the living room was heavy and dark.
If Chise too was to show a gloomy face, the atmosphere in the family would worsen.
Surely, her parents would not wish to stay in such a house.
She had to smile and pretend not to know anything.
And so, Chise maintained a cheerful façade in front of the duo.
Perhaps her parents would be happy seeing her like this.
(Yuina-chan and her parents...are all smiling so happily...)
Before she knew it, Chise’s hand stopped writing. The photo Yuina had sent was still on her mind.
A chill started to crawl up her heart.
No matter how cheerful a façade she maintained, Chise’s parents would not smile at home.
(Maybe it is better...if I do not smile after all.)
Her heart was turning colder and colder...
She was sad, yet unable to cry...
She had desperately prayed in her heart, but now she saw might have been doing it wrong.
Perhaps she should be as honest as Yuina, and cry her heart out, tell her parents honestly that she still wanted the three of them to be together. Would her parents willing make amends if she did so?
Her body was as heavy as lead. If her room were the sea, she would have sunk all the way to the bottom.
Chise looked towards the fish-motif postcard uneasily. At this moment, an upbeat melody suddenly rang from the cellphone on the table.
(Mother!)
Chise recalled the message her mother had delivered the previous day.
Chise went to sleep full of hope. The next morning, when she went to the living room, her mother gave her a red box with a cold look on her face.
It was the very same little box that contained the brooch Chise had prepared, the one she had bought at the trendy store popular with girls. Once Chise realized this, her little face froze. Her mother spoke with voice as cold as her own face, “this brooch is too juvenile for me. This shall be for you, Chise,” she said.
Chise felt her body go numb with coldness.
Her mother knew it was her who had given the gift.
Now that she thought about it, Chise’s father, surely, would not choose this cheap trinket of a glass brooch.
And, surely, her mother would not wear such a thing.
A few days later, Chise heard a rare conversation between her parents.
She woke at night, wanting to use the toilet. While on the corridor, she overheard their voices.
She ended up eavesdropping.
“So you returned the brooch to Chise?”
Her father seemed to be reproaching her mother.
Chise shivered, and inadvertently held her breath as she listened intently.
“For what occasions exactly do you want me to wear that fake brooch? That child might at least look cute wearing it instead,” retorted the woman impatiently.
“As a mother, you should have pretended not to notice and accept it happily. You cannot even do that?”
“Oh? And what right do you have to be angry? You never went to supervise Chise’s school lessons or attend her sports festival. Most of the time, you tend to forget that you have a daughter. Seeing you try to act like a father now is laughable.”
“Lady, you are cold as ice. Terrifyingly so.”
“And you always excuse yourself by criticizing me. Any birthday present you give me is a ruse. Chise will understand when she grows up. Her parents are not a marriage, just registered strangers.”
Chise shivered, and quietly walked away from the door.
She returned to her room, ducked under the sheets, and blocked her ears. However, her parents’ conversation kept echoing in her mind.
With each repetition, the heart area oh her chest would tighten, and she would struggle for breath drenched in cold sweat.
Chise’s actions had been futile.
Moreover, they backfired.
Her father rebuked her mother, and her mother was furious at her father.
It was all her fault.
It is her fault for using father’s name to gift mother such a cheap, childish brooch.
She had never realized before that mother would only wear real gemstones.
Chise’s eyes threatened to tear up, but she willed herself calm with the thought that she should not cry. She bit the edge of her blanket, trying her best to suppress her tears.
If she cried, her eyes would be swollen.
If her father saw that she had cried, he would blame her mother, and her mother would think she was a troublesome child.
(Right, I cannot cry! I just need to pretend that I did not hear those words.)
The next day, her parents would not look each other in the eye. The atmosphere in the living room was heavy and dark.
If Chise too was to show a gloomy face, the atmosphere in the family would worsen.
Surely, her parents would not wish to stay in such a house.
She had to smile and pretend not to know anything.
And so, Chise maintained a cheerful façade in front of the duo.
Perhaps her parents would be happy seeing her like this.
(Yuina-chan and her parents...are all smiling so happily...)
Before she knew it, Chise’s hand stopped writing. The photo Yuina had sent was still on her mind.
A chill started to crawl up her heart.
No matter how cheerful a façade she maintained, Chise’s parents would not smile at home.
(Maybe it is better...if I do not smile after all.)
Her heart was turning colder and colder...
She was sad, yet unable to cry...
She had desperately prayed in her heart, but now she saw might have been doing it wrong.
Perhaps she should be as honest as Yuina, and cry her heart out, tell her parents honestly that she still wanted the three of them to be together. Would her parents willing make amends if she did so?
Her body was as heavy as lead. If her room were the sea, she would have sunk all the way to the bottom.
Chise looked towards the fish-motif postcard uneasily. At this moment, an upbeat melody suddenly rang from the cellphone on the table.
(Mother!)
Chise recalled the message her mother had delivered the previous day.
—We will
notify you of any developments.
Her
past bad feelings were becoming flesh before her very eyes. They wanted Chise
alone at the villa, for they did not want her to know what they were
discussing.
So what was that development?
Chise reached for the phone with a trembling hand, and brought it to her ear.
“H-hello...Mother?”
She whispered.
Perhaps, it was be good news.
Perhaps, they would reconcile and come to the villa Chise was staying at.
(Please, please, let this be the case.)
But the cold voice crushed Chise’s fleeting wishes the moment it entered her ears.
“I have spoken to that man. We are definitely divorcing. Do think whose family name you’d rather have, Chise.”
Her cheeks, the hand holding the phone, everything froze immediately.
──Papa and mama asked me, ’have you decided who do you want to live with?’
Yuina‘s smile and cheerful tone when she had talked about her parents’ divorce brouhaha appeared in Chise’s mind.
──I fell to the floor, crying that I want the three of us to live together. They panicked and apologized to me. And said that they’re not going to divorce after all.
If Chise had cried in front of them...
If she had sobbed and choked, saying that she hoped they would not divorce, that she hoped for the three of them to live together...
Would her mother think about the divorce just a little more?
“Mother, ──”
(Is it okay for you two not to divorce instead?)
This was what Chise wanted to say, but her throat suddenly tightened, and she could not force the words out.
── Yuina’s parents are different from mine.
So what was that development?
Chise reached for the phone with a trembling hand, and brought it to her ear.
“H-hello...Mother?”
She whispered.
Perhaps, it was be good news.
Perhaps, they would reconcile and come to the villa Chise was staying at.
(Please, please, let this be the case.)
But the cold voice crushed Chise’s fleeting wishes the moment it entered her ears.
“I have spoken to that man. We are definitely divorcing. Do think whose family name you’d rather have, Chise.”
Her cheeks, the hand holding the phone, everything froze immediately.
──Papa and mama asked me, ’have you decided who do you want to live with?’
Yuina‘s smile and cheerful tone when she had talked about her parents’ divorce brouhaha appeared in Chise’s mind.
──I fell to the floor, crying that I want the three of us to live together. They panicked and apologized to me. And said that they’re not going to divorce after all.
If Chise had cried in front of them...
If she had sobbed and choked, saying that she hoped they would not divorce, that she hoped for the three of them to live together...
Would her mother think about the divorce just a little more?
“Mother, ──”
(Is it okay for you two not to divorce instead?)
This was what Chise wanted to say, but her throat suddenly tightened, and she could not force the words out.
── Yuina’s parents are different from mine.
The undeniable fact was stabbing viciously at
Chise’s heart.
Even if she wailed and objected, her mother would have just found it annoying.
Yuina’s parents were on good terms from the start. But Chise’s parents were different. They were on bad terms, and never needed Chise.
The image of her mother formed in the girl’s mind. No matter how she had tried to fawn over her mother, she would be invariably rewarded by a frown and a cold stare.
Surely, her father was the same...
Chise went silent, and her mother’s voice remained as harsh as usual.
“You are an adult now. You can decide on your own, no?” she said.
Chise’s throat finally managed to eke out some sound.
“...I-I understand.”
Such, such feeble words.
“I will get that man to call you.”
Even if she wailed and objected, her mother would have just found it annoying.
Yuina’s parents were on good terms from the start. But Chise’s parents were different. They were on bad terms, and never needed Chise.
The image of her mother formed in the girl’s mind. No matter how she had tried to fawn over her mother, she would be invariably rewarded by a frown and a cold stare.
Surely, her father was the same...
Chise went silent, and her mother’s voice remained as harsh as usual.
“You are an adult now. You can decide on your own, no?” she said.
Chise’s throat finally managed to eke out some sound.
“...I-I understand.”
Such, such feeble words.
“I will get that man to call you.”
With that, her mother hung up.
Chise’s phone remained by her ear as she collapsed onto the desk.
Her parents, their expressions aloof, had turned away from each other, leaving her standing between them.
Weak and helpless.
And finally, still facing away from each other, they drifted apart. Chise could not call for them, could not pull them back. All she could do was to feebly watch them go.
Just... Drift apart.
(They do not need me.)
That was why she could not pull them together!
They had never listened to her.
There was a proverb - “A child is the rope that binds a couple’s feelings.” But to this couple, she was just a useless baggage…
Chise felt utter despair. She couldn’t even hold her head up.
Nobody could see her, yet she could not find the tears to cry. She was heartbroken, and felt herself fall into the deepest, darkest of pits.
◇◇◇
“Riiiikuuuu, open up. It’s me.”
It was night, almost bedtime, but Riku was still up. He was drawing on the back of the advertising leaflets with pencils and could not stop. Until, he heard the knocking from the corridor, along with a sobbing voice.
Riku stood up and went to the front door. The slamming did not relent even for a moment during the brief time it took him to reach his destination.
“Riku! Riku-kun! You’re at home, right!? Have you abandoned me too!? Stop fooling around! Open up! Or I’ll die here!”
Barely-coherent sobbing voice kept pestering him from the other side.
Riku unlocked the door, and opened it. He was hit by the stench of booze and, then, a pair of cold hands wrapped itself around him. It was a woman with breasts so large, they almost spilled from the tank-top as she leaned onto his body.
“That man two-timed me! He said he was just playing around! That he’s getting married to a young girl from work! Terrible!”
Tepid tears started flowing down Riku’s throat and collarbone.
Riku held up his crying mother, closed the door, and locked it.
His mother, mother he had not seen in two months who reeked of alcohol, cigarettes, and perfume. It was a familiar scent, scent he had become accustomed to since childhood - the scent of a woman.
Riku’s mother gave birth to him at the young age of 17.
She had said that his father had died before he had been born, but he did not know whether it was true or not. The village’s rumor mill had it that his mother dated too many people to tell, so many that nobody really knew who his father was.
His maternal grandfather had died while his mother had still been in middle school. As for the grandmother, Riku had used to live together with her but she had died when he was just 2 years old. He hardly remembered anything about her.
Ever since then, Riku had spent his childhood alternating between being in his mother’s custody and in the care center.
Finally, he began to attend middle school and work part time delivering newspapers during the morning and evening. It was then that he learned all the life skills he needed to live by himself even with his mother gone for several days.
One might say he was more comfortable being alone.
Whenever his mother had a new boyfriend, she would leave without even taking her set of keys. Luckily, she never brought those men into this 40-ish-year-old apartment.
Most of those his mother dated were senior bankers, dentists, architects, so thankfully none of those gigolos had ever abused him.
“Riku, you’re all I have left. The one I really love is you, my blood. Everyone else is an outsider.”
His mother’s makeup was completely messed by her tears, and the sticky face was rubbing the mess into Riku’s cheeks as she embraced him. Riku found it painful, but he could not push his mother away.
All he could do was to maintain this posture until she cried herself to sleep.
Riku knew this very well, so he gave up on drawing for the night, and let his mother embrace him. He might have to drag his weary sleep-deprived body out to deliver the newspapers tomorrow, but tonight nothing else could be done.
His mother bawled still, snot and tears gushing in equal measure.
Now and then, she would mutter she loves him.
Her mother was in her 30s, but looked to be in her 20s with a bit of makeup and fashionable clothing. She was diminutive, but blessed with curves and beauty. That give her high self-esteem.
At the same time, for that she had never learned, and would fall into hopeless relationships time and time again.
“You’re all that I have left. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay together with you, Riku. It’s decided now!”
She would always make such a promise. But, eventually, she would have a new lover again, would leave Riku behind once more, leaving home without taking the key.
She needed her son only when she had been dumped. Whenever she had an affair, she would never even think of the fact that she had a son out there.
And she had never ever felt guilty for abandoning her own child.
That was the kind of woman she was.
“I love you, Riku. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She proffesed her feelings over and over again.
These words sounded so frivolous.
These words sounded so hollow.
Hearing them, smelling the stench of booze from his mother’s mouth, Rikku dropped his arms and only his empty eyes hinted at the anguish that followed. His limbs became cold, his head heavy, his heart hollow, like a spring that had dried up. No matter how many times his mother swore to love him, her words were empty air.
◇◇◇
(I am not a cute child. I cannot shed a single tear...)
Chise ended her call with her mother, and lowered her head. She put the vibrant rof of color pens back into the plastic pencil case.
(That is why I never had a chance to keep Father and Mother together...)
Suddenly, she noticed a pocket knife used to open the envelopes, and she stared intently at it.
No matter how much she were to cry, her parents would remain unmoved.
But...
If she opened her wrists with this knife...
Would they both panic over this?
Would they then hurry over to this villa instead?
Chise could not tear her eyes away.
Her slender, feeble fingertips were slowly inching towards the lemon-yellow knife.
She opened the foldable blade, the steel glinting sharply in the daylight.
All this time, she had been able to wield it so easily to cut paper. But once she saw the shiny edge, she became terrified, and goosebumps arose behind her ears.
Chise put the knife to her wrist.
Her body started to shiver, stronger with every heartbeat.
This would not kill her. All it would do was… cause a minor loss of blood. For the sake of conveying her feelings to her parents.
This toy-like knife could not kill at all.
Thus, this was fine. All it would do was leave marks on her wrists.
As long as her parents mended their relationship, she was fine with having scars all over her body!
Chise held her breath as she stared at the knife and her wrist. She tried to bring the bade to bear against the blue veins.
It would not budge. No matter how much strength she attempted to muster.
“I am a coward...!”
Her lips moved in quiet despair.
Still holding the blade, and dressed in her usual dress, she lay down on the bed.
(I cannot cry.)
She had kept repeating this silent mantra over and over again, ever since that tragic night when she had overheard the cold dispute between her parents.
She was suffering because she could not cry, but these were the first words that arose in her heart whenever she felt sad, and thus, not crying was all she could do.
She was unwanted by her parents and never doted on. Her IQ was average. She had no courage. Her existence was worth something only because of her smile.
She did not want those around her to feel bad, even if they never liked her. She did not want them to hate her, at the very least. Thus, she had to keep smiling.
She kept seeking wonderful, happy things.
She should not be overly dependent on others, for she would turn into a hindrance, but she had to remain optimistic.
Her heart was hurting, painfully so. Her throat felt as though it was being ripped apart.
Chise grabbed the bedsheet firmly, murmuring hoarsely again and again.
“I have to smile...Smile...Smile...!”
◇◇◇
“Riku, why do you look so gloomy? Aren’t you happy to see me return?”
Riku’s mother grabbed him by the chest, her face covered with tears as she asked.
His heart remained unmoved.
His eyes surely looked distant.
“Please, Riku. Just smile...Smile. Riku, why aren’t you smiling? Why aren’t you being kind to me?”
The fingertips topped with scarlet-red nails were shaking him violently.
But even so, his heart remained unmoved.
He had no hatred for his mother, held no grudges against her.
If a smile was enough to soothe her feelings, get her to release him, and make her obedient, he would like nothing more than to do so.
But he did not know how to smile.
Had he ever cracked a decent smile once in his short life?
“Smile...Riku, please smile...”
His mother’s tone was filled with increasing anguish.
Her words seemed to be cursing him. However, Riku kept on listening as he was, detached and hollow.
All he could do was to wonder why, even though his own flesh and blood was next to him, willingly expressing their love for him, did he felt so lonely.
He did not know how to ‘smile’...
◇◇◇
The long night finally started to brighten. Chise slowly got up.
She fell asleep without a blanket on. Her body was frigid, her head like stone.
She did not remove her contact lenses before she slept, so her eyes were bone-dry, and her eyelids were swollen.
Surely, her eyes were bloodshot too.
She got off the bed, and dragged her sluggish body out of the room.
(I cannot meet Riku-kun...while looking like this.)
She was sure of this without even looking at the mirror. How could she let Riku see her dirty face? Surely he would be shocked by her and disgusted.
Also, it was past the time of Riku’s delivery.
She entered the washroom, and washed her face with icy water. Her heart felt so heavy, leaden.
She put the contact lenses on again. She did not dare to look at herself in the mirror, and kept averting her eyes from the glass the entire time.
(Did Riku-kun...deliver the newspapers today too...?)
The newspapers she received from Riku’s hands were often warm like bread fresh out of the oven.
But on this day, the newspaper should have turned cold already.
Chise put on her shoes in the hall, and slowly opened the door.
The sun was shining from the other side of the hill, like a blinking arrow of light fired towards Chise, causing her to immediately narrow her eyes.
(The weather is good.)
Surely, she would be happier if she was not so sleep-deprived, so downhearted.
But the clear morning skies left her all the more despondent.
The world did not care for Chise’s laments and despair, and continued on as normal.
Chise approached the postbox, intending to withdraw the newspaper.
But when she reached it, what she saw stunned her.
The newspaper hadn’t arrived!
Her heart immediately tightened.
(Today is not a day when they are not publishing... So why?)
Such a tragic event had happened to her, yet she did not see the newspaper Riku should have delivered.
(God really loves to mess with people,) she thought as her eyebrows started to drop.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of a bicycle’s wheels.
It seemed to be approaching. Chise looked in that direction with a gasp.
The sun was shining brightly and the long path was dazzling. The bicycle basket and back seat were filled with newspapers. The boy was approaching.
He pursed his lips and kept pedalling soaked in sweat.
Chise widened her eyes, as though some sort of miracle was unfolding before her, a brightly colored miracle. She looked at the boy...
She looked at Riku.
Just a moment ago, she thought her world was about to be destroyed.
But it was not being ‘destroyed’. It was being ‘reborn’.
Riku parked his bicycle by the postbox.
He was sweaty and looked more anxious than usual.
He lowered his head slightly, probably as apology for being late. Then, he took a newspaper from the basket, and handed it to Chise.
Just like usual.
Chise looked at Riku in surprise, and received the newspaper.
They were really warm.
The warm feeling slowly spread through her fingertips, and instantly engulfed Chise’s sinking heart, warming it too.
The newspaper was so warm. Just a minor thing that left Chise especially elated. She was really delighted to be able to meet Riku at this moment, to receive the newspaper from him. She felt she was being lifted up and away from a dark abyss.
She thought she would never be able to smile again. However, her lips naturally bloomed, her dry eyes suddenly moistened, and the color of blood returned to her cheeks.
Chise... broke into a smile.
She was not forcing herself into a febble show of pretended happiness.
She was making a heartfelt smile.
A happy smile.
Riku widened his eyes, looking startled.
Chise said with heartfelt thanks,
“Thank you.”
Riku in turned narrowed his eyes as if he was looking straight into the sun. He turned towards Chise again, lowered his head stiffly, and pedalled off.
The silhouette of that back slowly faded away. Chise watched him leave as she embraced the warm newspaper tightly, showing a sweet smile able to melt everything.
That day, Chise wrote a letter to Riku.
The noon sunlight lit up the desk, and Chise took out her favorite white postcard with a flower attached to it, picked up the adorable lavender colored pen, and —
Chise’s phone remained by her ear as she collapsed onto the desk.
Her parents, their expressions aloof, had turned away from each other, leaving her standing between them.
Weak and helpless.
And finally, still facing away from each other, they drifted apart. Chise could not call for them, could not pull them back. All she could do was to feebly watch them go.
Just... Drift apart.
(They do not need me.)
That was why she could not pull them together!
They had never listened to her.
There was a proverb - “A child is the rope that binds a couple’s feelings.” But to this couple, she was just a useless baggage…
Chise felt utter despair. She couldn’t even hold her head up.
Nobody could see her, yet she could not find the tears to cry. She was heartbroken, and felt herself fall into the deepest, darkest of pits.
◇◇◇
“Riiiikuuuu, open up. It’s me.”
It was night, almost bedtime, but Riku was still up. He was drawing on the back of the advertising leaflets with pencils and could not stop. Until, he heard the knocking from the corridor, along with a sobbing voice.
Riku stood up and went to the front door. The slamming did not relent even for a moment during the brief time it took him to reach his destination.
“Riku! Riku-kun! You’re at home, right!? Have you abandoned me too!? Stop fooling around! Open up! Or I’ll die here!”
Barely-coherent sobbing voice kept pestering him from the other side.
Riku unlocked the door, and opened it. He was hit by the stench of booze and, then, a pair of cold hands wrapped itself around him. It was a woman with breasts so large, they almost spilled from the tank-top as she leaned onto his body.
“That man two-timed me! He said he was just playing around! That he’s getting married to a young girl from work! Terrible!”
Tepid tears started flowing down Riku’s throat and collarbone.
Riku held up his crying mother, closed the door, and locked it.
His mother, mother he had not seen in two months who reeked of alcohol, cigarettes, and perfume. It was a familiar scent, scent he had become accustomed to since childhood - the scent of a woman.
Riku’s mother gave birth to him at the young age of 17.
She had said that his father had died before he had been born, but he did not know whether it was true or not. The village’s rumor mill had it that his mother dated too many people to tell, so many that nobody really knew who his father was.
His maternal grandfather had died while his mother had still been in middle school. As for the grandmother, Riku had used to live together with her but she had died when he was just 2 years old. He hardly remembered anything about her.
Ever since then, Riku had spent his childhood alternating between being in his mother’s custody and in the care center.
Finally, he began to attend middle school and work part time delivering newspapers during the morning and evening. It was then that he learned all the life skills he needed to live by himself even with his mother gone for several days.
One might say he was more comfortable being alone.
Whenever his mother had a new boyfriend, she would leave without even taking her set of keys. Luckily, she never brought those men into this 40-ish-year-old apartment.
Most of those his mother dated were senior bankers, dentists, architects, so thankfully none of those gigolos had ever abused him.
“Riku, you’re all I have left. The one I really love is you, my blood. Everyone else is an outsider.”
His mother’s makeup was completely messed by her tears, and the sticky face was rubbing the mess into Riku’s cheeks as she embraced him. Riku found it painful, but he could not push his mother away.
All he could do was to maintain this posture until she cried herself to sleep.
Riku knew this very well, so he gave up on drawing for the night, and let his mother embrace him. He might have to drag his weary sleep-deprived body out to deliver the newspapers tomorrow, but tonight nothing else could be done.
His mother bawled still, snot and tears gushing in equal measure.
Now and then, she would mutter she loves him.
Her mother was in her 30s, but looked to be in her 20s with a bit of makeup and fashionable clothing. She was diminutive, but blessed with curves and beauty. That give her high self-esteem.
At the same time, for that she had never learned, and would fall into hopeless relationships time and time again.
“You’re all that I have left. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay together with you, Riku. It’s decided now!”
She would always make such a promise. But, eventually, she would have a new lover again, would leave Riku behind once more, leaving home without taking the key.
She needed her son only when she had been dumped. Whenever she had an affair, she would never even think of the fact that she had a son out there.
And she had never ever felt guilty for abandoning her own child.
That was the kind of woman she was.
“I love you, Riku. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She proffesed her feelings over and over again.
These words sounded so frivolous.
These words sounded so hollow.
Hearing them, smelling the stench of booze from his mother’s mouth, Rikku dropped his arms and only his empty eyes hinted at the anguish that followed. His limbs became cold, his head heavy, his heart hollow, like a spring that had dried up. No matter how many times his mother swore to love him, her words were empty air.
◇◇◇
(I am not a cute child. I cannot shed a single tear...)
Chise ended her call with her mother, and lowered her head. She put the vibrant rof of color pens back into the plastic pencil case.
(That is why I never had a chance to keep Father and Mother together...)
Suddenly, she noticed a pocket knife used to open the envelopes, and she stared intently at it.
No matter how much she were to cry, her parents would remain unmoved.
But...
If she opened her wrists with this knife...
Would they both panic over this?
Would they then hurry over to this villa instead?
Chise could not tear her eyes away.
Her slender, feeble fingertips were slowly inching towards the lemon-yellow knife.
She opened the foldable blade, the steel glinting sharply in the daylight.
All this time, she had been able to wield it so easily to cut paper. But once she saw the shiny edge, she became terrified, and goosebumps arose behind her ears.
Chise put the knife to her wrist.
Her body started to shiver, stronger with every heartbeat.
This would not kill her. All it would do was… cause a minor loss of blood. For the sake of conveying her feelings to her parents.
This toy-like knife could not kill at all.
Thus, this was fine. All it would do was leave marks on her wrists.
As long as her parents mended their relationship, she was fine with having scars all over her body!
Chise held her breath as she stared at the knife and her wrist. She tried to bring the bade to bear against the blue veins.
It would not budge. No matter how much strength she attempted to muster.
“I am a coward...!”
Her lips moved in quiet despair.
Still holding the blade, and dressed in her usual dress, she lay down on the bed.
(I cannot cry.)
She had kept repeating this silent mantra over and over again, ever since that tragic night when she had overheard the cold dispute between her parents.
She was suffering because she could not cry, but these were the first words that arose in her heart whenever she felt sad, and thus, not crying was all she could do.
She was unwanted by her parents and never doted on. Her IQ was average. She had no courage. Her existence was worth something only because of her smile.
She did not want those around her to feel bad, even if they never liked her. She did not want them to hate her, at the very least. Thus, she had to keep smiling.
She kept seeking wonderful, happy things.
She should not be overly dependent on others, for she would turn into a hindrance, but she had to remain optimistic.
Her heart was hurting, painfully so. Her throat felt as though it was being ripped apart.
Chise grabbed the bedsheet firmly, murmuring hoarsely again and again.
“I have to smile...Smile...Smile...!”
◇◇◇
“Riku, why do you look so gloomy? Aren’t you happy to see me return?”
Riku’s mother grabbed him by the chest, her face covered with tears as she asked.
His heart remained unmoved.
His eyes surely looked distant.
“Please, Riku. Just smile...Smile. Riku, why aren’t you smiling? Why aren’t you being kind to me?”
The fingertips topped with scarlet-red nails were shaking him violently.
But even so, his heart remained unmoved.
He had no hatred for his mother, held no grudges against her.
If a smile was enough to soothe her feelings, get her to release him, and make her obedient, he would like nothing more than to do so.
But he did not know how to smile.
Had he ever cracked a decent smile once in his short life?
“Smile...Riku, please smile...”
His mother’s tone was filled with increasing anguish.
Her words seemed to be cursing him. However, Riku kept on listening as he was, detached and hollow.
All he could do was to wonder why, even though his own flesh and blood was next to him, willingly expressing their love for him, did he felt so lonely.
He did not know how to ‘smile’...
◇◇◇
The long night finally started to brighten. Chise slowly got up.
She fell asleep without a blanket on. Her body was frigid, her head like stone.
She did not remove her contact lenses before she slept, so her eyes were bone-dry, and her eyelids were swollen.
Surely, her eyes were bloodshot too.
She got off the bed, and dragged her sluggish body out of the room.
(I cannot meet Riku-kun...while looking like this.)
She was sure of this without even looking at the mirror. How could she let Riku see her dirty face? Surely he would be shocked by her and disgusted.
Also, it was past the time of Riku’s delivery.
She entered the washroom, and washed her face with icy water. Her heart felt so heavy, leaden.
She put the contact lenses on again. She did not dare to look at herself in the mirror, and kept averting her eyes from the glass the entire time.
(Did Riku-kun...deliver the newspapers today too...?)
The newspapers she received from Riku’s hands were often warm like bread fresh out of the oven.
But on this day, the newspaper should have turned cold already.
Chise put on her shoes in the hall, and slowly opened the door.
The sun was shining from the other side of the hill, like a blinking arrow of light fired towards Chise, causing her to immediately narrow her eyes.
(The weather is good.)
Surely, she would be happier if she was not so sleep-deprived, so downhearted.
But the clear morning skies left her all the more despondent.
The world did not care for Chise’s laments and despair, and continued on as normal.
Chise approached the postbox, intending to withdraw the newspaper.
But when she reached it, what she saw stunned her.
The newspaper hadn’t arrived!
Her heart immediately tightened.
(Today is not a day when they are not publishing... So why?)
Such a tragic event had happened to her, yet she did not see the newspaper Riku should have delivered.
(God really loves to mess with people,) she thought as her eyebrows started to drop.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of a bicycle’s wheels.
It seemed to be approaching. Chise looked in that direction with a gasp.
The sun was shining brightly and the long path was dazzling. The bicycle basket and back seat were filled with newspapers. The boy was approaching.
He pursed his lips and kept pedalling soaked in sweat.
Chise widened her eyes, as though some sort of miracle was unfolding before her, a brightly colored miracle. She looked at the boy...
She looked at Riku.
Just a moment ago, she thought her world was about to be destroyed.
But it was not being ‘destroyed’. It was being ‘reborn’.
Riku parked his bicycle by the postbox.
He was sweaty and looked more anxious than usual.
He lowered his head slightly, probably as apology for being late. Then, he took a newspaper from the basket, and handed it to Chise.
Just like usual.
Chise looked at Riku in surprise, and received the newspaper.
They were really warm.
The warm feeling slowly spread through her fingertips, and instantly engulfed Chise’s sinking heart, warming it too.
The newspaper was so warm. Just a minor thing that left Chise especially elated. She was really delighted to be able to meet Riku at this moment, to receive the newspaper from him. She felt she was being lifted up and away from a dark abyss.
She thought she would never be able to smile again. However, her lips naturally bloomed, her dry eyes suddenly moistened, and the color of blood returned to her cheeks.
Chise... broke into a smile.
She was not forcing herself into a febble show of pretended happiness.
She was making a heartfelt smile.
A happy smile.
Riku widened his eyes, looking startled.
Chise said with heartfelt thanks,
“Thank you.”
Riku in turned narrowed his eyes as if he was looking straight into the sun. He turned towards Chise again, lowered his head stiffly, and pedalled off.
The silhouette of that back slowly faded away. Chise watched him leave as she embraced the warm newspaper tightly, showing a sweet smile able to melt everything.
That day, Chise wrote a letter to Riku.
The noon sunlight lit up the desk, and Chise took out her favorite white postcard with a flower attached to it, picked up the adorable lavender colored pen, and —
“To Riku-kun
Thank you for delivering newspapers all the time. It is because of your deliveries that I enjoyed reading them.”
— in a letter without the recipient address given, she penned down her blissful, sacred feelings.
“The newspapers you delivered have always cheered me up, Riku-kun.
Yesterday, my world was filled with pain, and it was a really dark, lonely place.
But the newspapers you delivered brought light to my world once again.
The moment I receive the newspaper from you, I feel courageous, energetic.”
“So, I want to thank you, over and over again.
Thank you, Riku-kun.
Thank you for delivering the warm newspaper. Really, thank you very much.”
What an emotion filled chapter. It was heartbreaking to see them suffering 😭😭
ReplyDelete