Chapter Twenty-Three: What's Old is New Again

I made my way down formerly-familiar streets to a house that I hadn't visited in what seemed like ages, and I smiled to myself as I remembered all those years ago when Kouko would bring her younger sister over to play with Ushio. I never did find out how Mom Furukawa and Kouko knew each other; back then I was more concerned about putting as much of my life together as possible. At this point, though, it was because I never thought to ask, likely because it would be more of a curiosity question than anything, so it slipped my mind more easily.

I figured that Mom had Fuuko come over to give me someone my age to talk with…for all the good that it did. It seemed like I spent more time babysitting Fuuko than I did having any kind of adult conversation with her. In hindsight, it made sense; she'd been in an accident at around age fifteen, so she was still mentally that age when she came out of it. Her mannerisms seemed a lot younger, though, causing me to worry that she may have suffered some kind of brain damage. I could see it; being comatose for years could cause some brain problems. It was weird, though; why did I seem to have a memory of meeting her at high school…? It wasn't like a real memory; it was like…something from a dream, the end of a dream when one is starting to wake up. Strange…

I shook my head to clear my thoughts as a familiar house came into view, and I quickly found myself standing before the home of the teacher and the former rock star. Considering how long it had been since the last time I'd seen them, I was relieved to see 'Yoshino' on the small wooden signboard next to the door. I reached out and knocked, then stepped back to wait politely.

Less than a minute later, the door opened to reveal an attractive, middle-aged-looking woman. "Well, for goodness' sake! It's been a long time!"

"Hello, Kouko-san," I replied, a smile spreading across my face at the sight of my former babysitter's older sister. She had certainly aged well, with just a few gray hairs here and there; while I really didn't know how old she was, I knew that she was older than her husband who, in turn, was several years older than myself, so I figured she had to be close to fifty, if not past. How time flew… "It's good to see you again. I'm sorry for not calling ahead, but I lost Yuusuke's number."

"Oh, don't worry about that; come in, come in!" she gushed, reaching out to take me by the shoulder to guide me into her home and into what appeared to be the living room. "Yuusuke's out back right now, but take a seat and I'll go get him. Yuusuke! Yuusuke?" she called as she headed toward the back of the house. "You'll never guess who's here!"

I smiled as I heard a familiar voice, one that I hadn't heard literally in years, unless I counted the times I'd heard his songs coming from the music shops. A couple of minutes later Kouko returned, pulling my old coworker into the living room by the arm while he finished wiping his hands on a paper towel. "Yes, Kouko, could I finish cleaning…?" he trailed off, giving me a nod as I stood up from my seat. "Hey."

"Hey," I greeted in return.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Kouko said while gently whapping her husband's arm. "You haven't seen Tomoya-san in years, and that's all you can say?"

"It's okay, Kouko-san," I said. "There was a lot of heart in that 'hey'."

"See?" he said, smiling at his wife. "He understands."

"Ugh," she huffed as she turned back to me. "Could we offer you some tea? Coffee?"

"Tea, thank you."

"You two go ahead and get reacquainted," she instructed, gesturing to the seating in the living room. "I'll be out with the tea in a few minutes."

"Well, Okazaki," he intoned as we took our seats, "it's been a long time. What have you been up to? You still crunching numbers for the power company?"

"Yup," I replied easily. "What about you? How's retired life treating you?"

He got a faraway look in his eyes, my cue that he was about to say something artistic. "It's hard, you know? When you're young, you can feel the flame burning brightly, but it starts to flicker out as you get older."

"Feeling your age, then?"

He leveled his gaze at me. "My flame burns as brightly as ever, but young people today aren't interested in its light. I sang about the heart, while modern songs are all about the dark."

He actually did sound burned out to me, but not from being tired of singing. "Well…maybe…you need to keep putting your light out there? Maybe you could…light up the darkness out there?"

"They love the dark too much."

"Maybe it's because they haven't seen light in so long, that…" I was having a hard time staying in his world. "…maybe the dark looks like light to them?"

He nodded slowly as he appeared to consider my words. "You make a fair point."

"If you're worried about them rejecting you because of your age, just use a pseudonym," I tried suggesting helpfully.

He nodded a few more times, then gave me an amused look. "Okazaki, did you come here to lecture me about my passion?"

"N-No!" I exclaimed, waving my hands. "I just think it's a shame that you've stopped making music when you still have so much to give."

"Are you trying to talk sense into my husband?" Kouko's voice interjected as she came into the room with a tray, upon which sat three mugs. "I told him to not give up, but he decided that his time had passed."

"You really think your time has passed?" I said, getting fired up. "That's not the Yoshino Yuusuke I remember. I remember a guy who fought for the hearts of his fans, who loved and loved…" I paused as I tried to find the right words, "…passionately! That's it! A guy who loved passionately and who wasn't afraid to share that passionate love of life with others!"

"Okazaki," he intoned, amused look still in place, "have you even considered getting into music? Or poetry, at least?"

"Not my strength," I said, then wagged a finger at him. "You, though…"

He studied me for a moment longer, then chuckled softly. "All right, Okazaki; I'll think about it." He sighed heavily. "The fire still burns brightly within me…" He got another faraway look in his eyes before getting to his feet, collecting his mug as he did. "Sorry, man, gotta go; I've got work to do." Mug in hand he left the room, heading out a different door than the one he'd come in.

Kouko turned wide eyes on me. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

She gestured back where her husband had left the room. "He hasn't been to his old studio in ages, and now…" She quickly angled her head down in a way that I recognized as the onset of tears.

I tried some basic math, and: "Are you saying that he hasn't done any music since he retired?"

She nodded while blotting her eyes with the back of her hand, then reached to her side to grab a tissue. "It broke my heart when he said he was done with music. After all, music was his life, so I was afraid that he'd given up on life."

I wasn't sure what to say, so I angled my head to try to show her that I was listening.

"The sales of his albums had gone down quite a bit. We weren't worried about it financially, it was… I was worried that Yuusuke was being rejected."

"I could see that," I offered quietly. "Maybe… Maybe he just needed a sabbatical? Some…time away to see what was happening in the world, figure out how he could, uh…speak to it?"

"I had thought something similar," she said, returning her gaze to me. "Thank you, Tomoya-san."

"You're welcome?" I replied awkwardly. "I really didn't come here to turn your household upside-down, honest."

"No," she chuckled with a shake of her head. "Our home has been upside-down since he retired. Yuusuke is supposed to be singing; he's made to sing, to communicate with others. To reveal thoughts and feelings that the listeners themselves might not even be aware that they have."

I thought back to a couple of songs of his that had hit me close to home. "Yeah, I think I get what you mean."

"You see?" she said with a gentle smile.

I felt a little awkward, so I reached for my mug. "Well, I'm glad I could hel-"

SLAM!

I jumped at the sound of something banging against the front door.

"Ah, it sounds like Fuuko's here," Kouko said as she rose to her feet. "Excuse me for a moment."

"Sure," I replied, watching her leave as I tried to reassemble my nerves.

A minute later she returned with a younger woman I assumed was Fuuko. I didn't actually have to assume, as she looked almost exactly the way I remembered her; short, with long, light-brown hair tied toward the end with a green ribbon. Golden eyes peered out from her still-unruly bangs. I'd been told that I'd aged well, but it appeared that my old babysitter hadn't aged at all. "Fuuko, you remember Tomoya-san, don't you? You used to play with his daughter."

"Play?" she said in the same slightly husky voice I remembered. "Fuuko's an adult, and adults don't play."

"They can play with children," Kouko said in a tone that told me she'd had this conversation with her younger sister more than a couple of times. "Parents play with their children, don't they?"

Fuuko appeared to consider her sister's words. "That's true, but Fuuko doesn't have any children."

My heart sank a little; it had been years, but Fuuko still talked the same way. I must have had a concerned look on my face as I looked up at Kouko, because she simply gave me what appeared to be an understanding smile as she continued to talk with her sister. "Anyway, Tomoya-san's visiting today; are you up to talking with him?"

"I suppose," Fuuko huffed as she plopped onto the couch next to me and looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "Hello, Okazaki-san." Well, at least she remembered my last name without prompting; that was something.

"Hello, Fuuko," I returned. "How's life treating you?"

"Meh," she grunted as she scooted a little closer to me, running her fingers through her hair as she did so. "Onee-san makes Fuuko go to work, but other than that, it's okay."

"Fuuko's had a job for the last few years," Kouko explained. "She… Well, what do you do for a living, Fuuko?"

"Fuuko works at a bookstore," she replied in a bored tone. "Fuuko puts books on the shelf, rings up purchases…very important work."

"I can see that," I said smiling in spite of the sadness I felt for her. How old was she on the inside, anyway? "Do you live here with your sister?"

She made a show of wrinkling her nose at me. "Of course not! Fuuko lives at Fuuko's own place! Fuuko's an adult, after all."

"Of course," I said, giving Kouko a cautious glance. "So, are you visiting your sister today? Is that why you're here?"

"Fuuko comes over on Saturdays to visit," she announced as she scooted closer. "Fuuko doesn't have time to visit during the week, of course; Fuuko's a very busy and important person."

"Of course," I found myself repeating.

"Okazaki-san could come over during the week, though; Fuuko's not that busy." She lay back on the couch, nearly putting her slipper-clad feet in my lap.

"Fuuko," Kouko said in a calm tone that sounded forced, "Tomoya-san is a guest in my home, not your footrest."

"Fuuko knows this," the diminutive woman said as she visibly slid her feet away from me, sitting up again.

"I believe Yuusuke's in his office; maybe you could see if he's composing again?"

"Composing?" Fuuko shot to a fully-upright position. "Is Yuusuke-san going to write music again?"

"Why don't you go and see?" Kouko suggested with a twinkle in her eye.

Fuuko hopped to her feet and bolted for the door. Before she passed through the doorway, though, she stopped and turned to look at me. "Bring Shio-chan next time, okay?"

"Um, sure," I replied, not sure what to make of the whole situation.

She gazed at me a moment longer before running her fingers through her hair as she exited the room.

As the door slid shut behind her I took in a deep breath, held it for a four-count, then released it slowly.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" I looked up to see Kouko studying me with a gentle smile.

I chuckled lightly. "Sorry if I was rude; I guess it's been so long…I wasn't sure what to expect."

Kouko looked toward the door where her sister had left. "It's been hard for her since…well, since coming out of her coma." She looked back at me. "Does she seem any different than how you remember her?"

"A little," I admitted. "I'm not sure how this is going to sound, but she seemed a little…flirtatious?"

"She's not normally like that," she admitted. "Yuusuke and I have been around her all the time, so we haven't noticed any real changes in her. It's like…" She shrugged with her hands. "It's like she's still fifteen at almost thirty-six."

I had forgotten; Fuuko was around the same age as me, and would have graduated at the same time if she hadn't been in the accident. "Does she know that she's…?" I didn't want to say 'retarded', mainly because I wasn't sure if it was accurate, but also because the word was commonly used as an insult.

"She's developmentally disabled, yes, and she is aware of it," Kouko said heavily. "In spite of how she presents herself, it bothers her to no end."

"Is that why she's an 'adult' and 'busy' and 'important'?"

She nodded sadly. "She so wants to grow up, but it's like the coma froze her at that point in her development. I think she's improved a little, but…" She sighed. "I'm just glad she's been able to keep a job and her own place."

"I'm sorry," I said, not sure what else I could say. "And I'm sorry if I was rude to her."

"You weren't," Kouko replied, a small smile spreading across her face. "She's always been fond of you and your daughter. Though, to be honest, I'm surprised she responded to you as…positively…as she did."

I coughed politely, really wanting to move on. "Well, I'll make sure to bring Ushio next time. I'm here by myself this time just in case…I…"

"In case you weren't welcome?"

I nodded silently, feeling ashamed for thinking they wouldn't like me.

"Tomoya-san; It's really good to see you again," she said, and I could hear the warmth in her tone. "Thank you for coming to see us."

"Y-You're welcome," I replied lamely.

"By the way; what made you decide to visit us?"

I blew air noisily between my lips. "I've been…getting some help dealing with my past, and he mentioned that it'd be good if I had friends for after Ushio moved out." I glanced sheepishly up at her. "I thought of you guys first. Sorry I haven't talked to you for so long."

"Well, thank you for thinking of us," she said in a slightly trembling voice.

"I'll want to get Yuusuke's number before I leave," I said. "Unless you have a different number you'd want me to have."

"We'll make sure you have a number before you leave," she said with a warm smile. "And we'll make sure to get yours as well. Does your daughter have a phone? I'm sure Fuuko would love to have her number."

"Sorry, no. Not in…well, not in the budget right now." I was starting to get tired of that particular phrase.

She looked uncomfortable for a moment, then: "Are you…still grieving your wife?"

I tried not to show my surprise at her question, but probably failed. "Not as much as I used to."

"Not that I'm in any position to talk, but sixteen years is a long time," she noted.

"I know," I admitted. "I…grieved a while back, but it still hurts. Pastor Ashton told me that the pain never really goes away. It makes sense, really; to be that close to someone and then to have that someone ripped away? It's like taking part of you with them."

"I can't even imagine," she said sympathetically. "Forgive me if I'm being nosy."

"You're not," I told her. "I've got my shoulder back, and the pastor's supposed to help me get my life back."

"I hope you succeed," she said warmly. "If you don't mind me asking; who is this 'Pastor Ashton'? That's an unusual name."

I leaned back in the plush, comfy couch. "He's like a priest, only he's a Christian."

"I've heard of that religion," she said with a nod.

"A pastor is like a priest, but different," I explained with a lopsided smile. "I don't know all the differences, but I know that there are some. Oh, and his last name is 'Ashton'; he's from America."

"That explains the name," she noted. "So he's supposed to help you with your problems?"

"Yeah. He's a counselor; apparently he's the only one in Japan."

"Has he helped you yet?"

"A little," I said, scratching my chin. "I've only had a couple of sessions. I figure we've got to fix twenty years of bad thinking, so it'll take a while."

She seemed uncertain, and I figured it was because of Japan's overall attitude toward mental care, like Pastor Ashton mentioned. "Well…I hope you're able to get the help you need."

"Thanks."

"Will you have to become a Christian for him to help you?"

"Not from what I've been able to tell," I replied. "He's a chaplain for the hospital in Hikaritani, so he helps all kinds of people. I doubt they all have to convert for him to help them."

"That's good."

I felt a slight twinge of panic and checked my watch; Mika would be arriving at my place in about an hour. Ushio would be there to greet her, but still… "I'm sorry Kouko-san, but I need to get going. I'm expecting a guest in about an hour."

"That's perfectly fine," she replied as we got to our feet. "Let me get the other two so we can see you off."

"Sounds good."

"And exchange phone numbers," she added with a knowing smile.

"Sounds good," I repeated with a smile of my own.

She nodded as she left to find the others, leaving me to look around the living room. The Yoshinos really had a nice home; they didn't have the kind of stuff that made them look pretentious or snobbish or anything, but what they had was clearly higher-quality than anything I'd ever be able to afford. Nice furniture, nice paintings on the walls, miniature statues of figures holding musical instruments…I found myself feeling a little envious, wishing that I had a skill worth that level of money. I knew that money alone wasn't an indicator of worth, but I would've liked to have been able to afford nicer things for Ushio at least.

I blinked out of my thoughts as the door opened again, and the Yoshinos plus Fuuko entered the room. "I understand you lost my number," Yuusuke said.

"Yeah, sorry," I said with what I hoped was an appropriately apologetic expression as I got out my cell phone. "When I made the switch from my old phone to my new one, I forgot to transfer my contact list."

"Hmph," he grunted before reciting his number for me. "That's my cell. Don't give it to anyone, please."

"No problem," I said. "Your info is your info, after all."

"Thanks."

"I'd like to give you mine as well, if that's all right," Kouko said as I started to put my phone away, so I quickly changed direction and entered her number as she gave it to me.

"Do you have a land line number I should have?" I asked.

"Sure," Yuusuke said before reciting that number. "Now you have no excuse for not calling us."

I chuckled half-absently as I finished entering the contact information for their land line number. "Yeah, sorry about that; I'll be more careful next time."

I gave them my cell number as they led me to the front door, and we paused so they could save it in their phones. In light of her earlier antics, Fuuko was remarkably quiet. "Don't be a stranger, Okazaki," Yuusuke said as I stepped out of the door to their home. "And thanks for the encouragement."

"Glad if I helped," I said with a smile.

"Fuuko's leaving, too."

Kouko and her husband both blinked in surprise. "Already?" she said. "But you got here less than an hour ago."

"Fuuko…will come back later," the short gir-er, woman said as she joined me on the front porch. "Fuuko has some things to do."

"All right," Kouko said with another surprised blink. "Well, we'll see you later then."

Fuuko simply nodded with what looked like a fierce expression before she turned and headed away from the house.

"That was unusual," Kouko said as we watched her sister round the edge of the shrubbery surrounding their home. "Usually she stays longer and helps Yuusuke or me or plays games."

"She is a very important person," Yuusuke quipped, earning him an arm-whap from his wife. "In any case, have a good day, Okazaki."

"Thanks," I replied with a chuckle. "You, too."

I headed away from the Yoshinos' household, rounding the shrubbery the same as Fuuko had done a couple minutes before me. As I walked I started to plan the rest of my evening; Mika would be stopping by to make dinner with Ushio, then maybe Ushio and I could-

"Okazaki-san!" I jumped, startled out of my thoughts at the intrusion of a sudden yet familiar voice, and I turned to see Fuuko running toward me from a side street. "Okazaki-san's so rude! Okazaki-san kept Fuuko waiting a long time!"

"What do you mean?" I said. "I only left about two minutes after you did!"

She skidded to a stop before me, and I realized that she had hardly grown at all since her time with me and my daughter. "Fuuko's seen Shio-chan twice since Fuuko had to go be a grown-up, and Okazaki-san never called! How rude!"

"Sorry, sorry," I said, finally getting on track. "I lost your brother-in-law's phone number and got caught up in raising Ushio. I really didn't mean to forget about you."

Her face fell, and she looked at the ground. "So Okazaki-san really did forget about Fuuko again…"

"'Again'? What do you mean, 'again'?"

"The first time wasn't Okazaki-san's fault," she murmured, causing me to think that she was talking to herself. Then she shook herself and looked me in the face. "It hurts that Okazaki-san forgot Fuuko."

"I really am sorry," I said as sincerely as I could. "I didn't mean to forget you; it's just that between losing Yuusuke's number and being so busy raising Ushio…" I threw up my hands, only to let them fall to my sides.

She sighed once, then held out a hand. "Please give Fuuko Okazaki-san's phone."

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

"Huh?" She looked genuinely puzzled and hurt. "Fuuko just wants to give Okazaki-san Fuuko's number."

"Then tell it to me," I said as I pulled out my phone. "I can enter it."

"N-NO!" she cried, vigorously shaking her head with her arms wrapped around herself. "It's too embarrassing!"

"Seriously? Are you still in…?" I trailed off as I remembered my conversation with Kouko, then held out my phone. "All right, here."

She quickly snatched my phone away and, after briefly studying it, tapped at the screen. About a minute later, she handed it back. "Fuuko will get Okazaki-san's number when Okazaki-san c-calls Fuuko," she explained.

"Oooookay," I said. "That'll work….I guess."

She looked up at me as though studying me, then jerked her head once in a nod before turning and running back in the direction of her sister's house. I watched her run off until she disappeared around a corner, then shook my head with a snort as I turned and headed home.

"I'm home," I announced as I entered the apartment. I had cut it pretty close, as Mika was supposed to be arriving in about ten minutes according to the time on my watch.

"Welcome home, Daddy!" Ushio greeted as I closed the door behind me.

"Is Mika-san here yet?"

"Mika-senpai?" she said with a puzzled expression. "She's not going to be here today, remember? She has her responsibilities at the Founder's Festival."

My hand found my forehead. "Oh, that's right, I forgot. So it's just you and me tonight, huh? Well, I'll try not to burn dinner."

"S-Sure," she giggled.

I headed out to the kitchen and started rummaging through the shelves and the refrigerator; it had been so long since I'd made dinner that I didn't even know what I had anymore. "Well, here's some cubed beef. We could-"

KNOCK KNOCK

Ushio and I looked at each other in surprise. "Were you expecting someone?" I asked.

"Uh-uh," she replied.

"Me neither," I said as I put the beef back in the fridge and headed to the front door. "I wonder who that could be…"

To my surprise, I opened the door to find Mika on our front porch, dressed in her school uniform and holding a grocery bag. Her hair was up in its usual twintails. "Good evening, Okazaki-sama!" she greeted with a polite bow.

"Mika-senpai," Ushio said, joining me at the door, "what are you doing here? Don't you have Council responsibilities?"

"I got someone to cover for me so I could do this!" she chirped as Ushio and I stepped aside to let her into our home. "I made a quick stop by the store so we could make something special."

Ushio and I looked at each other briefly, and I shrugged before gesturing toward our kitchen. "If she's got it covered, I guess…"

She giggled before joining her upperclassman in the kitchen. "Let me help you, senpai."

As the girls chatted away in the kitchen, I quietly headed down the hallway to my room; I needed to make a call, but didn't want the girls to hear it. As I entered my room I pulled out my cell phone and had it call Kappei's number.

As expected, there was a lot of background noise when he picked up: "Hey, Okazaki! This is Kappei!"

"Hey, Kappei," I greeted, trying to keep my voice as low as possible while still being heard. "Did you know that your daughter's skipped out on the Founder's Festival?"

"What do you mean?"

I gestured back to the kitchen before realizing that he wouldn't see the motion. "Well, Mika-san's here, making dinner with my daughter."

"No, I didn't give her permission. Maybe Ryou did; I'll ask her later."

"Well, I just thought you should know. She told me that she got someone to cover for her, but I'd hate for her to get in trouble just for making dinner for us."

"As long as that's all she does before heading back, I guess I'm fine with it. She made arrangements for coverage, after all."

I didn't quite understand his reasoning, but… "Okay. As long as you know."

"I do now! I'll probably talk to her about it later, but thanks for letting me know."

I was surprised at how casual he was being about it, but it may have been due to our differing parenting styles. "All right. Well, sorry for bothering you."

"Not at all! Just text me when she leaves, would you?"

"'I'll do that."

"Enjoy your dinner, Okazaki!" he exclaimed, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Have a great evening!"

"You too," I replied. "Have fun."

"Yeah!"

I ended the call and pocketed my phone as I headed back toward the kitchen, where Ushio and Mika were still chatting away. I could smell a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, causing my stomach to rumble and my mouth to water. "How's everything going?" I asked, sticking my head around the corner to peek into the kitchen.

"Fine!" Ushio replied as Mika worked on chopping something. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes! Oh, would you take our plates out?" she asked while holding out two sets of bowls and plates.

"Sure," I replied as I reached out to accept the task. I then headed into the living room and placed the bowls and plates at our spots at the kotatsu before settling into my spot to wait.

Ushio and Mika came out a couple of minutes later with covered bowls and set them on the kotatsu.

"Well," Mika started as she removed her apron, "there you go! I hope you enjoy it, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right Mika-san; thank you," I said as I got up to see her to the door. "Have a safe trip back to the school. Wait, did you want to take any with you?"

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head with a smile as she put on her light coat. "I'll get something when I get back to the school. Thank you for thinking of me, though."

"Have a safe trip, Mika-senpai," my daughter said. "I had a lot of fun cooking with you."

Mika was about to pass through the doorway, but quickly stopped herself. "Oh! I almost forgot!" She turned to face us once again. "I plan on us having dinner together at the festival tomorrow. Will that be okay?"

Ushio and I looked at each other long enough to exchange a smile. "Sounds good," I answered on our behalf. "We look forward to it."

"Great!" she exclaimed with a giggle. "Well, see you tomorrow evening, then!"

We watched her until she rounded the nearby corner and then I closed the door, locking it behind me. "She seemed happier than her usual," I noted with a smile as we took our seats at the kotatsu, and I quickly composed and sent the text to Kappei. "I mean, she's normally pretty bubbly, but…"

"I think I know what you mean," Ushio giggled. "The whole time we were working in the kitchen, I could swear she was floating."

I chuckled at the idea as we put our hands together.

"Itadakimasu."

"So, what's on the menu tonight?" I asked, getting somewhat excited; whatever they had been making smelled really good, and I had been looking forward to eating it.

Ushio grinned as she reached out to uncover the largest pot. "Ta-Daaaaaa! It's pork cutlet!"

"I guess that makes sense," I said with an eager grin. "With her aunt Kyou as her teacher, she should become an expert…in…" I trailed off, my grin fading as a memory resurfaced rather abruptly.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" I heard my daughter ask in a worried voice.

"I-I'm fine," I lied and feeling bad about lying as I remembered what Kyou had said while she'd been staying with us:

"…you make this for the boy you like and he'll fall in love with you, guaranteed…"

Did this mean what I thought it meant?