Kiku stared sullenly at the piece of paper in her hand. "This is stupid."
"What is?" Shouta leaned over and tried to see what was written on her best friend's slip, but Kiku held it away out of her range of sight. "Oh come on! Lemme see!" She made many passes at the paper, but Kiku managed to dodge every single one of them. Finally though, Shouta emerged victorious with the paper in hand.
She took one look at the word written on the slip and burst out laughing. "Budgeting?!"
"Give it back!" Kiku snatched the paper back, but Shouta just kept howling with hilarity.
"Good luck trying to write that prompt!"
"Oh yeah? What did you draw?"
Shouta grinned as she handed over her own slip. "Predator."
"How fitting. You can write about your piranha teeth."
"They're shark teeth. Sharks are way cooler." Shouta shrugged. "You could always draw another prompt, or since there isn't a word limit on how long you have to write, just make up something and be done with it. "Budgeting is for weaklings, I buy on impulse.'" She snorted at her own joke.
"No thanks." Kiku didn't show it, but she was actually determined to do well in this creative writing club. If she had to write an award-winning essay on accounts and finances, so be it.
That afternoon Haruka found her daughter staring at the row of thick green hardcover notebooks arranged according to year on the bookshelf in the study. "Kiku? What are you looking for?"
Kiku explained her writing assignment. "Mom, why do you do all your accounts by hand? Shouta says she's seen her mom saving her accounts on her laptop."
"I do save our accounts on our computer. It's just I've been doing my budgets on paper ever since I was in high school, so now I always write them out first and type them later."
"Oh."
"Doesn't sound like that's of much help to you though." Haruka looked up and suddenly had an idea. She pulled out an account book from the shelf and opened it to a random page. "Take a look."
Kiku read the first column on the page. "Textbooks, stationery, tuition fees… are this from your high school days?"
"University, actually. See, there's an entry for apartment rent down there." Haruka pointed to the corresponding row on the page.
"But why is it split in half? In fact," Kiku flipped through the pages, "nearly everything from here on is divided in two."
"That was around the time your father and I started living together. We even continued living in the same apartment after we graduated, until we moved here when the cafe opened. You had just been born then."
"Really?" The only home Kiku had ever known was the apartment above her mother's cafe. It wasn't spacious, but just big enough for the five of them. Her parents had talked about getting a bigger place so her younger twin siblings would have more room to play in before, but that never amounted to anything. Their current home was already good enough.
Kiku closed the book and looked up at her mother. "Mom, did you share all your expenses with Dad?"
"That's right. We paid for almost everything with our combined salaries from out part-time jobs, and even after we started working we still split all our expenditures. I guess not all couples do this, but Makoto and I have been sharing things ever since we were kids. It just came naturally to us."
Kiku remembered something. "Like that time we were getting ice-cream, and Dad split a popsicle in two and gave you half."
"That was from our school days. He always got the dual-stick popsicles so he could share them with me."
"So when you're married you share everything with your partner?"
"Not necessarily. Different people have different arrangements, but that's how it is for us. We'd shared all our joys and worries, pretty much our whole lives, as far back as we can remember – marriage only meant we do it while wearing rings. Like you know someone'll always have your back, looking out for you."
"And splitting popsicles as well?"
"Right. That too."
"So can we get ice-cream now?"
"Quick to change the topic, aren't you?" Haruka poked her daughter's sides, and smiled as she giggled.
…
A week later, the teacher-in-charge of the creative writing club set aside a piece on sharks and their awesomeness to read an essay with the following opening: Budgeting is planning ahead how you're going to spend your money, what you'll do with your life. But if you're lucky enough, you'll have someone to share it with – someone who'll always split a popsicle with you…
