Author's Note: A bit of a long chapter here. Mayuzumi really is starting to open up, yay! And some conflict and pressure is building . . . As always, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!
Chapter 7
When I see Tsukiko the next day, she's re-dyed her hair. A majority of it is bright cherry-red now. I blink several times, a bit disconcerted by the change.
"What?" she asks, smirking at my expression. "The teal's great and all, but I need a change every once in a while."
"It reminds me . . . of cherry pie," I say truthfully.
She stares at me and then she begins laughing so hard that something stirs in me . . . at first, I'm unsure what it is. It's almost like a tickle inside of my stomach . . . and then, I begin to laugh, too.
Abruptly, she stops, her eyes wide.
"What?" I ask, trying to contain my own laughter.
"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh like that before," she says.
"So? What about it?" I finally manage to swallow it, and raise my eyebrow at her.
"It's . . . I like your laugh. That's all."
She grins at me, and something inside of my chest jumps.
"You should smile and laugh more," she says. "You look younger that way. Not so aloof and standoffish. You know, you're really quite unapproachable. That's probably why you don't have any other friends . . ."
"You're saying I need to try and act like you?"
"Don't you believe in giving it your all?"
I stretch my arms above my head, looking at the clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. "I suppose it depends on what we're talking about," I say. "In basketball, I always did my best, even though I knew I was never part of the team. In name only, really . . . But to try and make friends when the end goal is only something that may or may not turn out well . . . I don't know if I'd do that."
"But there's the possibility that you might find someone worth keeping forever," she persists. "If you never try, you never know."
"That's your philosophy, huh? I suppose that seems a lot like you. But for me, I only believe in working for something that gives its benefits back to me. I'm not going to put work into something that will reap nothing for me."
"That's . . . kind of a sad way of looking at it."
"What's the point of doing something if there's not a promise of productivity to it?" I challenge her. "If I'm not going to get anything out of it, I'm not going to bother."
"But doing things that you don't believe to be productive always manage to have a positive effect anyway. For example, I used to do quite a bit of volunteer work with Omura-kun. Obviously, the volunteer work was good for the community, but it didn't have any direct effect on me. As I continued doing it, though, I found that I really enjoyed helping the people and interacting with them and their lives. In the end, there's always something you can take out of everything."
"So you're the positive type?"
"And you just seem negative."
We stare at each other for a few moments before we burst out laughing once again.
"Ah, well. I suppose it doesn't matter what we think about it," she says. "As long as we can both accept each other's opinions. But anyway, Mayuzumi-senpai, tell me more about your family. You're an only child, right? Have you ever wanted any siblings? What are your parents like?"
"Yeah, only child. And no, I've never wanted any siblings. Can you imagine how annoying they'd be? I can't even think of how much time they'd spend ignoring me, either. My parents . . . they ignore me as well, basically." I shrug. "I don't even know them that well, to be honest. They let me have my own apartment, and they spend most of their time traveling around the globe for their jobs, having their own life, while not caring one bit about mine."
"Wow, Senpai, that's pretty bitter."
"It's the truth."
"I'm sure that it's not that they don't care about you . . . It's just that they —"
"They could find the time for me if they wanted to. They just don't. They prioritize their own lives in front of mine. It's fine. You don't have to make an excuse for them. I don't really care."
"That's pretty sad."
"Does it really matter?"
"Well, I don't really remember my dad, but my mom's always been wonderful. I can't imagine not having any sort of parental influence. She and I . . . she would take me out to do things a lot on weekends. We'd have movie nights, eat pizza, and talk late into the night. I mean, it really is sad that you've never had any of that."
"It sounds like a bit of a pain, actually."
She rolls her eyes. "Only you would think that."
"How is your mom doing, anyway?"
Her expression deflates a little. "Ah, she's fine. I mean, there hasn't been a ton of change. She's gotten a bit weaker, maybe. I suppose. But it's not progressing as quickly as they thought, so . . . we're . . . I'm . . ."
Hopeful. Tsukiko is hopeful that maybe, just maybe, her mother will be able to beat the unbeatable disease inside of her.
"She keeps telling me that even if — even if —" She swallows, unable to say the words, but plows on. "She keeps saying that it will be okay, that I'll be okay, but I don't believe her. I mean, when Dad died, I was so little . . . that sounds awful, but I didn't even know him, can barely remember him, so how can I mourn him? But with Mom . . . I don't know how I'll be able to handle it."
I'm not quite sure what to say to her. I've never lost anyone close to me — rather, I've never even had anyone close to me before. So, now that words have become superfluous, I hold my hand out to her. She stares at it, blinking furiously to hold back the tears, and takes it. Her fingers, much smaller and more slender than mine, wrap around mine, and I try to ignore the strange feeling beginning in my stomach and shivering up my skin.
"Mayuzumi-senpai," she says. "Could . . . could you . . . ah . . . I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, of course. But if you wouldn't mind . . ."
"Spit it out now."
"Would you walk me home today?" she blurts out.
"Walk you home?" I repeat, a bit stunned.
Her hand clenches mine harder, maybe out of instinct.
"Yes," she says. "You can stay for dinner as well. Meet my mom. And I . . . I'd just like to spend more time with you. I mean, friends spend time with each other, right? Outside of school."
"You've come to my basketball games," I say.
"That doesn't count." She scowls. "Will you or will you not? If you don't want to —"
"I'll walk you home." The words fall out of my mouth before I can even think about them properly. But as I do think of what I've just said, I realize there is no way I would ever have refused her. And maybe, dinner does sound good. It's not like I'm that great of a cook myself. And Tsukiko has proven herself to be excellent a number of times.
She smiles broadly. "Great! I guess we'll just meet up after school? Where do you want to meet? Outside the entrance halls?"
I tilt my head. "You haven't joined a club yet?"
"Ehh . . . no." She fidgets with her bag. "I haven't decided yet."
"It's second-term."
"What do you suggest, Senpai?"
"I'm not good at suggesting things for people. Just choose something you like."
She deflates a little. "Something I'm good at . . . um, cool."
I sigh. "You like to read, so there's always the literature club. If you're good at languages, maybe you should try English. There's art or drama if you're into that stuff."
"Ooh, I'll think about those. Thanks, Senpai." Her face has already brightened a bit at my words.
"I'll meet you after at the entrances doors, okay?" I say. "I don't have basketball anymore, but I can catch up on some studying in the library. Go join a club."
"Ah, okay! I'll see you then. Oh — lunch period is about over. Shall we go, then, Senpai?"
I nod, and still holding my hand, she pulls me up and drags me to the door.
Tsukiko's waiting me by the front doors when I exit the school.
"Senpai!" She waves her hands to direct me over.
"Did you join a club?" I immediately ask her.
She grins. "I did, actually. I decided to check out the English club just to see what it was like, then they roped me into joining, but I think I actually like it there."
I roll my eyes. "You didn't have to join right away, you know."
"I know that, but they were all so nice."
Blinking a few times, I say, "That's . . . good. You should've stayed and talked with them more."
She shrugs, shifting her bag. "I was excited to see you, though."
A strange feeling rises inside of me. I'm not quite sure how to describe it. It might be something like wonder — why would someone like her want to see me? Or it could be something like a weird sense of pleasure. That someone like her does want to see me.
"Where do you live?" I ask her.
"It's not too far," she says, her eyes twinkling. "Senpai, do you not usually go home right after school?"
"No. Why?"
"Oh, just wondering. What do you do instead?"
"I like to wander off at random stops. Places I haven't explored yet."
"Shopping?"
"No, just . . . wandering."
"Sounds interesting. Is there a reason you've started doing that?"
"Not really. I mean, there's nothing at home for me. Just me. It's quiet. At least, in the city, there's me and the noises of everyone else's lives."
"Senpai, are you really actually kind of lonely?"
"What is with that tone?" I frown, looking at her. Her eyes are large, and her gaze is a bit too serious for my liking.
"It just seems like you really crave companionship inside. Even if you try to play it tough on the outside."
"I never said I didn't want friends."
"Yeah, well, you've implied it a number of times."
I shrug, turning my face away from her. It's true that I may have said things before that made it sound like I was always self-independent, that I never needed anyone else in my life. And in a way, I do believe that's true. But with her . . . she has a way of making me rethink my views on life, and getting me to say things I would not normally say. Not to anyone else.
Only her.
We board the train, and I ask her which stop she's going to take. When she answers, I say, "That's the one I usually take, too. Hey, we could actually live close to each other." A thought rises inside of me that I can't quite decipher: would I like that or not?
"Mm, yeah."
I glance over at her. She meets my gaze for a moment, before hurriedly averting her gaze.
"What are you making for dinner tonight?" I ask her.
"You're curious? Are you a picky eater or something?"
I wrinkle my forehead. "Well, I won't say that I eat everything."
"But you eat everything that I've brought so far," she points out.
"You are . . . a good cook," I admit.
"A compliment!" she cries out, and she pokes me sharply in the chest. A sharp breath escapes from me.
Her cheeks flame and she turns her head once again. "Is something wrong?" I ask her. She doesn't answer, but fidgets with her bag strap.
We don't speak for the rest of the train ride, but thankfully, it's a short trip. We get off, and for several minutes, we walk in silence also. My thoughts are trying to catch up with our most recent conversations, wondering if I've done something to make her uncomfortable with me or angry, but I can't seem to think of anything.
Then, I realize what path we're taking.
I narrow my eyes at her. "Tsukiko," I say.
Her head jerks up. "Y-yes! Senpai!"
"This is the exact same way I take to my apartment."
"R-really?"
"You wouldn't happen to live at the same place, would you?"
"N-now why would you think that, Senpai?" She lets out a laugh that sounds oddly strangled.
I sigh deeply. "No wonder you've been acting so weird. So, tell me. How long have you known?"
She winces, knowing she can't hide the fact anymore. "Well . . . since we've been friends?"
"So all along, basically."
She nods.
"What's your room number?"
"336."
I stop so suddenly that she bumps into me, our shoulders scraping together. "Are you kidding me?" I say, scowling at her. "You're telling me that not only do we live in the same apartment complex but that we're neighbors?"
"Ah, well, Senpai . . ."
"And how have I not known about this?"
"You yourself said that you wander off after school! And I always arrive at school early, so you probably wouldn't have seen me leave either."
"This is unbelievable."
"Senpai, you're really funny sometimes, you know."
"Don't give me that," I grumble. "Why'd you never tell me?"
"I thought it would be a nice surprise."
"Surprise! This is — this is a shock!"
"Hilarious, really."
"Oh, shut it, you."
She just grins. "Anyway, we're here! Three hundred and thirty-six is me. And you, Senpai, are three hundred and thirty-seven! Don't worry, just because I know where you've lived all this time, I've never stalked you."
For some reason, this only unnerves me further.
She types in the code for her room, and swings the door open. "I'm home, Mom! And we have a guest! The guy I told you about. Remember him? My senpai? He's here!"
She's about as talkative at home, too.
I wander into her house behind her, taking in the sights. The layout is an exact mirror of mine, but whereas mine is mostly bare with no personalization, hers is already bursting with color and attitude, even though she and her mom have only been living there for a few months. There are flowers near the balcony to soak up the weak rays of sunlight, plush rugs on the floor, and an assortment of bright-colored frames hung on the walls and placed on tables.
"Tsukiko!" A woman comes wheeling into the room, a person I assume must be Tsukiko's mom. She looks a lot like Tsukiko, but obviously older, and paler, more wrinkles around her eyes, and a certain weariness about her. Her eyes fall on me, and unlike Tsukiko's brown eyes, hers are a clear blue. "Ah! You must be Mayuzumi Chihiro, correct? I'm Tsukiko's mother, Kiyabu Morie."
"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Kiyabu-san."
She smiles, her eyes crinkling. "Tsukiko's been telling me a lot about you."
She has?
"I'm glad you were able to come," she continues. "I'm sure Tsukiko's excited to have you over. She's been wanting to fix you a full meal for a while."
When I glance over at Tsukiko, her cheeks are slightly pink. "Mom," she says. "How are you feeling today?"
"Just great, sweetheart. How about you get started on dinner?"
"Ah, okay. Just let me know if you need anything." She looks a bit hesitant to leave, hovering near her mom just a little longer than necessary, but eventually she heads to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Kiyabu-san turns her attention to me. I suddenly question how I should act. She just smiles at me.
"Mayuzumi-kun, you're welcome to set your things down and have a seat. Please, make yourself at home."
"Ah, t-thank you." I sling my bag down to the ground, and move to the couch. My legs bounce up and down, and for a few moments, I wonder if I should go and help Tsukiko, who I can hear in the kitchen, taking out ingredients and pots from the cabinets.
"So, you're a third-year, Mayuzumi-kun?" Tsukiko's mother asks me.
I nod.
"Are you excited to graduate, then?" she asks, her smile widening a bit. "When I was a senior in high school, I wanted nothing more to get out and into the world."
"I'm not really sure," I say. "I don't exactly have any plans for the future, so it's not like I really have anything to look forward to."
"Ahh, I see. Indeed, it is hard at your age to figure out what you want to do for the rest of your life. What do your parents think?"
"My parents . . ." I lick my lips. "They're not really around much, so I don't talk to them very often."
"You should think about asking them. Even if you aren't close to them, you'll find that parents' advice is invaluable. I know Tsukiko hasn't even thought one bit about what she wants to do for the future . . . Indeed, right now, she's thinking about a very different future." Her face softens, and my fists clench.
Even though I don't know her very well, I don't want her to die. Honestly, even if it was someone I hated, I would never want them to die. And perhaps because she is Tsukiko's mother, it makes the issue somehow more personal. And here she is, talking about her death in an almost objective manner. It makes me angry, to think that someday — maybe soon — this person in front of me will not be breathing anymore.
And I can't foresee how Tsukiko will deal with it.
Tsukiko . . .
Kiyabu-san seems to be thinking along the same lines as me, because she says, "You seem to be a good friend to her, Mayuzumi-kun. You know that Tsukiko's a good girl, and you treat her well. Tsukiko needs someone in her life who she can lean on, especially if I'm not here anymore. Sometimes, I don't think she'll ever accept it, but perhaps, if she has someone else to help her, she'll be able to move on. Perhaps it is too forward of me to ask, too soon and too presumptive, but if you would, Mayuzumi-kun, please take care of Tsukiko. She's my daughter . . . my everything . . . and I don't ever want her to break apart."
I lean back slightly, my breath suddenly shallow.
This huge responsibility that's been asked of me . . . does Kiyabu-san really expect someone like me to take it?
"I don't think . . . ," I begin, my voice hoarse, raw, like it hasn't been used for a long time. "I don't know . . ."
"I know you may have doubts yourself," she continues. "But everything Tsukiko has told me has confirmed inside me of who you are."
"Are you sure she's told you everything?"
"Even so . . ." She smiles at me. "Looking at you right now, I can see how much you care for her."
I reel inside.
Care for her? Tsukiko? I . . . care for Tsukiko?
Of course . . . it's true that I've accepted that we're friends now. I mean, I'm at her house about to eat one of her home-cooked meals. But at most, I thought that I'd moved past the tolerating stage to the "I can talk to you easier now and you don't annoy me as much" part of the relationship.
But to actually care for someone?
I'm not quite sure what that entails.
"Dinner's ready!" Tsukiko's cheerful voice breaks over our conversation, and Kiyabu-san and I wrap up a heavy discussion over a recent light novel (who knew that's where Tsukiko got it from?). If you get past the deep and depressing things, Tsukiko's mother is actually pretty easy to talk to.
"What'd you make tonight?" Kiyabu-san asks.
"I made some kusaya!" Tsukiko says as we gather around the table. "I'll serve it up, so you guys just hang tight."
A few minutes later, the piping hot grilled fish and sticky rice is lain before us, looking and smelling delicious, and we give our thanks, then dig in.
"It's wonderful!" her mother says.
"It's good," I tell her.
She beams at the both of us. "It's something new, honestly," she admits. "Didn't you tell me you liked it a lot?" she says, directing the question toward me.
I lean back in my chair, swallowing the bite, a bit surprised. "Yeah. I didn't think you'd remember."
She shrugs. "Well, here's the product. There's plenty, too, so have seconds!"
After dinner, we spend a little while longer talking around the table, but then Tsukiko's mother says she's getting tired, and heads off to bed.
"Do you need any help?" Tsukiko asks, immediately standing up.
"No, I'm good," she says. "Thanks, though. How about you and Mayuzumi-kun just go and have some fun?" She turns to me. "Thanks for coming over tonight, Mayuzumi-kun. It was fun."
"Thank you for having me, Kiyabu-san."
She retreats down the hall, and Tsukiko scoops up the plates to take back to the kitchen. I join her, grabbing the cups.
"I don't think you have to be that worried about her," I say as we walk to the kitchen, balancing the silverware in our hands.
"Huh?"
"Your mom. I think . . . I think that some part of her wants to be independent as well. Even though she loves knowing that you care for her, don't you think it would get a bit irritating if someone thought you couldn't do every little thing by yourself? That's how you're acting."
Tsukiko's eyes widen. "Oh. I didn't notice . . . I . . . never thought of it that way."
She lays the dishes into the sink and runs some hot water over them. My eyes glance over her arm, and my hand darts forward to grab her wrist, pulling it forward to me.
"Senpai, what —"
"Are they still bullying you?" I demand, pulling up the shirtsleeve that had gotten exposed when she'd rinsed the dishes. A myriad of light bruises cover her forearm.
She bites her lip. "They just like to push me around a bit. It's nothing big."
"Have you told your mom?"
"She doesn't need to know. She already has enough on her plate."
"She'd want to know."
"I'm fine." She jerks her hand away from me, and I take a step back, a bit shocked. A glint of anger shines in her eyes. "I don't need you to baby me. I'm fine."
My eyes narrow at her. "Those bruises say otherwise."
She throws her hands into the air. "Agh! You really don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you? You just say the first thing that comes to your mind, and it's often the worst thing to say."
I take another step back, and my legs hits a cabinet. I've never seen her angry like this. The stress over her mother must be really getting to her. I decide, for the moment, to keep my mouth shut. Since opening it in the first place was what spurned this outburst. . . .
She continues to fume silently, her arms crossed over her chest, occasionally sending me glares. I wait patiently for her to calm down until . . . she takes in a deep breath. Then another. A third, then her face crumples.
"I . . . I'm sorry," she says. "You know I didn't mean that."
"Sure."
"I'm sorry," she says again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Ugh, no, am I? Yes, I am! But I am angry, too. Because the world . . . it's unfair. I'm so angry. Why . . . I don't understand." I see the tears in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.
"Tsukiko," I say.
"Yes?" She glances up, then back down. She rubs at her red eyes. "I can't . . . I'm sorry, Senpai. I can't look at you right now."
I sigh — not one of frustration, but rather resignation. "That's fine," I say, and then I move forward and wrap my arm around her, bringing her close to me. She buries her head into my chest and begins to sob in earnest, her tears wetting my shirt. "That's fine," I say again. "You don't have to look at me."
"But you're here," she whispers.
"That's right. I am here."
"That's all I need to know." Her voice is growing quieter.
I hum in response, and my hand moves to stroke her hair in an even rhythm, a pattern that seems to beat in time to my heart. Her breathing slowly steadies, her crying slowing, until the both of us silently just sit there. Alone, yet together.
A/N: Well, there's some drama. Anyway, quite a bit happens in this chapter. Tsukiko finally joins a club! And Mayuzumi apparently really appreciates her cooking. And who knew? They're neighbors. Mayuzumi even gets to meet her mother. I appreciate hearing your thoughts if you wanna drop a review! Thanks for reading. Hope you're enjoying the story.
~ J. Dominique