Looking at their assets, it was obvious that hiring a tutor—or even several—wouldn't be a problem.
Still, in Japan, bringing in outside tutors always carried a bit of risk...
Inoue Nishiki, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as composed as Akira. She fumbled a little with her phone, tucked into the sash of her white-patterned kimono, before adding him on LINE.
Akira only put his phone away once she'd sent the request. Their eyes met briefly—before she quickly looked away.
The three parents ignored the little exchange and continued chatting.
And since Inoue Nakateru had achieved his goal of helping his daughter connect, he no longer steered the conversation toward Akira.
The moment Nishiki's friend request was accepted, she immediately clicked on his profile picture, curious if he had any selfies. Realizing how inappropriate that was with adults present, she slipped her phone back into her kimono.
Soon after, Inoue Nakateru politely declined Miyamura Shizuka's invitation to stay for dinner. He and Nishiki said their farewells and departed the Miyamura household.
Shizuka glanced at the time, then headed to the kitchen to prepare lunch. Daiki pulled out his phone to arrange an afternoon fishing trip.
Meanwhile, Akira sprawled on the sofa like a lazy Old man, half-watching the TV. With the holidays giving him a break, he had no desire to write...
When morning light pierced the lead-gray clouds, icicles on the eaves dripped their thirty-seventh drop of water. The hiss of an automatic door at a convenience store startled a cluster of jackdaws on the power lines.
At twelve minutes past noon, sunlight streamed through the clouds, refracting off the department store's glass walls into shards of golden light, drifting with the breath of office workers sipping hot coffee.
By two o'clock, the distant bells of Sensō-ji chimed. The withered branches of a ginkgo traced Sanskrit-like shadows in the wind.
It wasn't until Shouko returned that Akira's peaceful day ended.
Click.
"I'm home!"
"Welcome back," Akira called faintly from the living room.
"Where are Uncle and Auntie?" Shouko appeared at the doorway, puzzled to find him slouched in a strange pose on the sofa.
"Dad went fishing. Mom and Auntie Nishimiya went shopping."
She smiled lightly, lifted an elegantly wrapped dessert box, and waved it at him.
"Akira, come try this—the chocolate cake is amazing."
She set the box on the coffee table, then tugged him upright.
Like a puppet, he let himself be dragged to sit. Shouko carefully unwrapped the cake, portioned out a slice, and even went to fetch a sterilized fork from the kitchen before placing it in his hand.
Under her expectant gaze, Akira scooped a bite, nodded, and praised the taste. Then, as usual, he pushed the plate back to her.
"You eat it. I'm not that hungry."
"Then I'll save it for later."
She hesitated, but still re-wrapped the slice and tucked it into the fridge.
Akira said nothing, silently watching. He'd already anticipated this routine—she always made excuses. And, just like before, whatever went in the fridge usually disappeared into Mom's stomach.
"Akira, did we have guests this morning?" Shouko asked curiously after sitting back down.
"Yeah. Dad and Mom's college friend dropped by with his daughter."
"How did you know?"
"I saw a New Year's gift box on the table that wasn't there earlier."
Before he could reply, she gave his back a playful smack, pretending to scold:
"Don't slouch! You'll turn into a hunchbacked grandpa!"
"Okay, okay..." Instead of straightening, Akira flopped onto the tatami, gazing at her profile.
Shouko lay down as well, meeting his eyes, and began sharing stories from her outing with Takagi and the others.
Akira listened quietly, occasionally responding to keep the flow.
By 2:32 p.m., the ferry whistle on the Sumida River startled pigeons circling the Skytree.
At 3:50, the sun sank behind the Tokyo Metropolitan Government towers, and a cold wind carried fragments of piano notes from a cram school.
At 4:00 sharp, Zoo's closing announcement blended with the bells of Zōjō-ji Temple.
"Akira..."
After finishing a message to Ayumi, Shouko hesitated.
He paused the TV, read her expression, and spoke first:
"If you want the cake, just eat it. I won't say anything."
"But what if you want some too?"
"Just save me a bite."
"Okay! Two bites!" She grinned, flashing a peace sign, before bouncing off to the fridge.
(Don't misunderstand, Akira thought wryly, that bounce was just her down jacket.)
Soon she was happily eating, occasionally feeding him bites.
By 4:30, Miyamura Shizuka and Yaeko Nishimiya returned, arms full of ingredients for the night. Shouko quickly finished the last bite, cleaned up, and joined them in the kitchen.
Akira was later dragged in to peel garlic.
As was tradition, both families would eat together for New Year's Eve. The main dish was toshikoshi soba (year-crossing noodles), though plenty of side dishes filled the table as well.
Shizuka had once explained to them as children:
On Ōmisoka (December 31st), families eat soba noodles because they break easily, symbolizing cutting off the hardships of the old year and starting fresh. The word soba (そば) also means "beside" or "close by," representing family closeness and even the wish for wealth to draw near.
But the noodles had to be eaten before midnight. Eating them after would mean cutting off good fortune too late, a bad omen for the coming year.
"You kid—zoning out even while peeling garlic." Shizuka chuckled, flicking his forehead.
Yaeko and Shouko just laughed, used to the scene.
Shouko wanted to comfort him, but her hands were stinging from chopping chili. And besides—Akira would only refuse her help anyway.
---------------
Support me at patréon com/Lukas25