Negative
marmaroth
—
16.
The funeral is a small, private affair, but hundreds of fans send her their written condolences. She receives letters, and flowers, and—from Take-kun's coach—an envelope, with a single slip of paper inside. "It was his last paycheck," the old man tells her, his voice choked. "Usually these things are electronic, nowadays, but we thought—well—" He can't seem to say anymore, so he walks away instead, after pressing the envelope into her hand.
It's a surprise to everyone. They are all at loss for words, bewildered and flabbergasted, confronted by something so out of the blue. Happy-go-lucky Yamamoto Takeshi, with his perfect wife and his perfect house and his perfect baseball record. The All-Japanese sports hero. Wonderful Yamamoto Takeshi. Perfect Yamamoto Takeshi.
"How selfish of him," one of the housewives next door says when she thinks Kyoko isn't listening. "How could he leave her alone? A young girl like that, what will she do now?"
15.
"What's going on?" Kyoko says. There's a strange ringing in her ears that she's only heard twice in her life—once when Takeshi's father passed away. Once when she heard that Ryohei had gotten in another gang fight and rushed to the alleyway just in time to see him get punched in the throat.
The two men look at her, and then at each other. At last, Junpei, looking more haggard than she's ever seen him, says, "I'm sorry, Kyoko. Takeshi, he…"
Kyoko's shaking her head, covering her ears before Junpei can finish his sentence. "No," she says. "No. No. Nonononono—" Not Takeshi, she wants to say. Not my Takeshi. Not my perfect, handsome, strong Takeshi.
She sinks slowly to the ground as Junpei and Hitoshi rush to her, trying to hold her up. "No," she says again, tears streaming down her cheeks.
14.
He doesn't come home that night. She checks the pregnancy test again.
Negative.
13.
She watches the game on TV. Then she mutes it when Takeshi goes up to bat, so that she can't hear the reaction of the crowd after he strikes out.
12.
"Take-kun," she says when they're in bed and his arm is wrapped around her, "Take-kun, don't you think you ought to go to practice again?"
He doesn't say anything, but she knows he's awake.
11.
She looks up "Sawada Tsunayoshi" on their computer. She's not sure why the name sticks in her mind, except that there's a taste to it, something she's not sure she likes.
He wasn't a particularly accomplished student. No, he wasn't a particularly accomplished anything. Whereas a search of Takeshi's name would turn up hundreds of articles, his only turn up a few pages, and most of them reference a shogun from the Tokugawa dynasty.
Finally, however, the search "Sawada Tsunayoshi, Nami-chuu" turns up a single article.
Namimori Middle School student commits suicide.
Her mouth is dry.
10.
She doesn't mention it when he comes home, announcing that he had another great practice and he's excited about the season starting.
When Take-kun leans in to kiss her, she thinks about the child again. Their child. It'll be wonderful, she thinks. It'll make him so happy—it'll make them happy. And maybe it'll fix whatever this is, the shadow on his face, the heaviness in his step, the bitterness in his mouth that she can taste even now.
9.
"Kyoko-san, good afternoon," says one of the two men waiting at her doorstep.
Kyoko blinks. "Junpei-kun!" she greets him familiarly. "And Hitoshi-kun! What a pleasant surprise. How are you? What brings you here?"
The members of her husband's baseball team all resemble one another, in a certain way. There's a kind of boyishness about them, probably born from running around all day in the sun, and also a kind of fierceness, a drive for victory that Takeshi shares. Today, however, the two look tired.
"What's wrong?" she says when neither of them responds. "Are you looking for Take-kun? He's supposed to be at practice right now—" as are you, she thinks but doesn't say.
"That's what we're here to talk to you about, Kyoko-san," Hitoshi says. "Takeshi—well, he—"
"He hasn't been showing up to practice," Junpei fills in when Hitoshi falters. "And we were wondering if you knew where he's been."
Kyoko blinks, and has to take a moment to process the idea. Her world tilts on its axis a little. Takeshi, not showing up to practice? Baseball is his life. It has been since he was ten years old. "No, I had no idea," she says. "How long has this been happening?"
"Around two weeks now," Hitoshi says.
Two weeks, she thinks. Two weeks ago he'd been coming home late, and lately he's been coming home early.
"He's sort of, well—" Junpei hesitates. "He's hit a bit of a slump, lately. It happens to players sometimes. Good ones especially. It's a mental thing mostly, coach told him not to worry, but—"
"We're afraid that he might be taking it to heart," Hitoshi says. "When you see him tonight, tell him not to think too hard, and that he needs to get back to practice or coach will be really mad, okay? The season starts soon, and he needs to be on his game."
"Okay," Kyoko hears herself saying. "I will. Thank you. Um, are you sure you wouldn't like to come in?"
"No, it's alright," Hitoshi says. "Thank you."
"Thank you," Junpei echoes.
The two men leave, and Kyoko is left on the doorstep, holding a bag of groceries and a latte that becomes increasingly cold to the touch.
8.
"Hana-chan!" Kyoko says, surprised. "It's been so long!"
Her best friend for the past twenty years smiles at her. "Yeah, it's been a few weeks, hasn't it?" she agrees. "I baked too much banana bread again, so I thought I'd drop by and see if you were home. Want some?" She holds up the plastic bag and Kyoko claps her hands in delight.
"That'd be wonderful! Did you try a new recipe this time?" Kyoko backs away to give her room to come in.
"It's my day off, so I though I'd try that thing Hashimoto sent me a while back," Hana says, taking off her shoes and stepping in through the doorway. "Now, come on, let's see how it turned out."
Kyoko grabs them both plates and starts making tea, and the two of them chat, talking about what's been going on in their lives. Neither of them mentions the shadows under Hana's eyes, or how thin she is, or how half the banana bread on her plate goes untouched. Eventually the talk turns to the old days—as it always does—and, in the midst of laughing about her misguided one-week relationship with Mochida-senpai, Kyoko suddenly remembers.
"Hana-chan, do you remember Tsunayoshi-kun?"
Hana frowns, moving bits of bread around on the plate with her fork. "Sounds familiar," she says slowly. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason," Kyoko says. "I just remembered the name, was all. I don't think he was at the last reunion. Do you know what happened to him? Did he move away, do you think?"
Hana frowns harder. "No, I don't think so," she says. "I think his family's still here. His last name's Sawada, isn't it? I pass his house on my way to the convenience store sometimes."
"I haven't thought about him in so long," Kyoko says. "People used to make fun of him, didn't they? Dame-Tsuna was his nickname."
"That's right," Hana says with a laugh. "I'd forgotten about that."
7.
When he got his first big contract, Takeshi wanted them to move to the city. "Think about it, Kyoko," he said. "It'll be so exciting! So many people! So many bakeries," he added mischievously, using her sweet tooth against her.
Kyoko thought about it, hesitated, then refused. For a girl like her, who'd grown up in the small town of Namimori her entire life, it was tempting. But she couldn't do it. There was too much for her here—her friends, her family, her old haunts and favorite bookstores and cafes. She knew the town too well to let it go.
To her ears, Takeshi sounded relieved, too, when she said no. She doesn't think he really wanted to leave, either.
6.
Negative again.
5.
"Do you remember Dame-Tsuna?" he says.
She blinks, shaking away the tendrils of sleep. "Who?" she asks. The name sounds vaguely familiar, like an echo of her own voice that's been bounced off so many walls that she can't recognize it anymore.
"Dame-Tsuna," he says. "He was a kid in our class in middle school."
"In Nami-chuu? Goodness, that was so long ago," she says with a giggle. Then she thinks harder. "Dame-Tsuna, Dame-Tsuna…oh, I remember! Tsunayoshi-kun, wasn't it?"
"That's right, it was something ridiculous like that," Take-kun agrees with a laugh. "Do you remember what happened to him?"
Kyoko thinks about it for a while, and then shakes her head. "No," she says. "Why? What happened?"
Take-kun is quiet. "I don't remember either," he says at last, and she giggles before snuggling into him, closing her eyes.
4.
"You're home early again," she says as he walks in the door. "What's going on at practice? Has something happened?"
He looks startled, and then laughs. "No, nothing. What makes you think that?"
She looks down. "Nothing," she says. "Only—"
"Kyoko," he says abruptly, "have you ever thought about working?"
She looks up again, startled. "What?"
"I know you used to want to be a teacher," he says. "A kindergarten teacher, right? Maybe you're getting bored at home? If you want to, I won't stop you."
She stares at him, at a loss for words. Then she shakes her head. "No," she says. "I'm—how could you say that, Take-kun? I'm happy here, at home. With you."
He's quiet for a while. "I see," he finally says, breaking into a smile. "Well, that's good. I'm happy to hear that, Kyoko!"
He kisses her, and she sighs into his mouth.
3.
She waits for two weeks before checking. NEGATIVE, the pregnancy test tells her.
2.
That night, they fall in bed together. He whispers sweet nothings in her ear and traces her skin with his fingers and kisses his way down her throat, making her shiver with delight. She runs her fingers through his hair, loving, hoping. When they're finished, she closes her eyes and thinks: This is it. This is right.
1.
When Yamamoto Kyoko hears the door creak open and close quietly, she knows something's wrong. "Take-kun?" she calls, without looking up from where she's washing the vegetables for dinner. "Take-kun, what is it?"
There's a pause before her husband appears. Tall, broad, and muscular with a firm chin, wearing a blue button-up shirt, he seems to many a picture-perfect adult—and a very handsome one, too. But to Kyoko, he still retains the boyish charm he had twenty years ago. He's grinning the grin she fell in love with in high school—the one that always makes her fall in love all over again.
"Haha, nothing!" Yamamoto Takeshi, world-renowned baseball player, laughs, dropping his duffel bag on the ground. It's the laugh that has made hundreds of women fall at his feet; it warms Kyoko down to her toes. "We finished early so I thought I'd surprise you, that's all. What's for dinner?"
"Tempura," says Kyoko. "You finished early? That's wonderful! You've been coming home so late these days, I was getting worried."
Something in his eyes flickers—no, it's gone now, she must be getting tired. "Yeah, sorry about that. I promise it won't happen anymore."
"Don't," she says, turning to the stove. "It's not your fault. And anyway, I'm so lucky, to have such a hard-working husband. You practice so much even off-season!"
"Well, I can't let myself get rusty," Takeshi says, leaning over to snag a piece of raw cucumber. He dangles it and drops it in his mouth, grinning. "Or fat. Mmm!"
Kyoko giggles, flushing with pleasure when he leans over to kiss her.
"Let me help?" he says, after they part breathlessly.
"Oh, you don't have to," she says, even though her heart jumps at the thought. He shakes his head.
"I want to. I miss making dinner with you."
She smiles softly. "I do, too." Suddenly, a thought occurs to her: "I bought some tuna at the market today—it was on sale—would you like to—?"
But she knows just from looking at him that it was the wrong thing to say. The smile on his face grows fixed, and the lighthearted atmosphere around them disappears.
"Maybe some other time, Kyoko."
She drops the subject. "Chop the vegetables?"
"As my lady commands." He sweeps a bow, making her laugh again with some relief, and they begin to work, asking and talking about each others' days. Yamamoto had a good time at practice. Kyoko went to the market, visited Hana (who's now her sister for real—how wonderful is that?), tried a cake recipe that she found online...
"Take-kun," Kyoko says as they eat dinner, "I've been thinking."
"Mmf?" Takeshi swallows a mouthful of rice. "What is it?"
Kyoko looks at him—at her wonderful, wonderful husband. He's strong and handsome and caring and sweet and funny and successful, what more could any woman ask for? What more could any woman possibly want?
"I was wondering," she says hesitantly. "We're…we're thirty now, Take-kun. Do you—do you maybe think we—should have children?"
It's not her imagination this time: Takeshi freezes slightly in the middle of picking up another piece of shrimp with his chopsticks.
Finally, he says, "Maybe," in a tone that says I don't think so.
Kyoko swallows. She's not sure why she's nervous, exactly. She and Takeshi have never fought, not about anything; their personalities are far too similar and they get along too well. But children. Kyoko loves children. She wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, for a while, before Takeshi proposed to her and then it seemed that she wouldn't have to work for the rest of her life.
Except now they're thirty. Thirty, and with, well, what Kyoko's mother would call an empty nest. A nest that never had eggs in it. Kyoko's happy visiting her friends, perfecting her dishes to make Takeshi's smile even wider when he comes home, but frankly—well, she thinks she would like someone to take care of. A little girl with Takeshi's eyes, or a boy with her hair.
"Take-kun," she says, taking a delicate bite of fried eggplant, "I think I want to give it a try. I—want one. A child."
Takeshi chews.
"Please," she says. Her voice is low.
Takeshi swallows. "Well," he says at last, smiling at her, "as my lady commands."
She beams at him. "Thank you so much, Take-kun!" she says, relieved that the discussion is over.