CHAPTER FORTY-SIX – BRIDGING DISTANCE (MoniKenta)
As the days passed by, Kenta knew that penance was still a long way off.
A short trip to the disciplinarian's office three days after the fight had told him all that he needed to know, long before he was even told about the verdict and given the written notice for it. Kenta knew that he should be drawing comfort from the fact that his opponent then had been suspended alongside him, but it was a poor trade-off for everything else that he needed to make up for.
Outside of school, his mother had been the first to know about the fight; deciding not to hide the truth of his situation and make things worse, he had told her everything once he had gotten home that day. Shocked and infuriated, she had taken up the better part of an hour interrogating and chastising him, reminding him of his past fights and the previous times that he had been suspended. It only got worse when his sister Kanae arrived home from work and joined in once she had been told about everything. Kenta took all their verbal admonitions in stride, not even attempting to defend himself. By the time he handed over the written notice of his suspension to his mother three days later, she had run out of words to say. As small as Kenta felt while listening to her angry words during the previous days, her silence made him feel a lot worse when she accepted the notice from him.
The next step had been to tell Daisuke and Akihiro. Even though he expected Naoki to immediately brief them in as a firsthand witness to the scuffle, Kenta decided to notify them himself. By then, he had already made up his mind to stay away from them as he sought penance and reflected on his failure regardless of whether he would be suspended or not. Daisuke and Akihiro offered what little comfort they could through text messages, but they respected his self-imposed exile nonetheless.
Of course, there was the most painful consequence of them all.
Kenta's guilt and shame deepened as he remembered how Monika had practically rushed down to confront him following the incident. Every rebuke she had uttered then felt even worse than the verbal lashing he had gotten from his mother and sister combined later that day. Though Monika had softened her stance with him as they talked and even defended him when his one-time rival came over seeking revenge, Kenta could not bear to look her in the eye nor even text her since then. Monika often texted him during the hours that she was not busy, checking to see if he was doing fine and offering some words of comfort at times. But just like with his best friends, he did not read her messages in depth nor reply to any of them, feeling that he had done very little to deserve them right now.
Left with nothing to do during his suspension, Kenta decided to instead distract himself by doing chores at home and going out for a quiet walk around the neighborhood. The first day of that had gone by routinely as his mother gave him a number of tasks to complete every few hours. It was all easy enough—buy some groceries, clean up his room, take out the trash, move some things that needed moving. Kenta took on the tasks willingly; at the very least, they helped take his mind off of the thought of his classmates listening in and feasting on the gossip brought by his scuffle and suspension.
He was busy scrubbing the counters in their kitchen when he heard his mother sit down at the dining table across him. Kenta did not look up, instead focusing on making the countertops gleam with the damp rag that he was using. Any dressing-down he was bound to get at the moment would be nothing that he hadn't heard before.
Instead of telling him off, however, his mother said, "The counters are clean enough. Why don't you rest for now?"
"Don't need to," he mumbled back.
"Aren't you hungry? You didn't eat much earlier."
"I'm fine, Mom."
His mother paused for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was noticeably milder. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Kenta clenched his hand into a fist, squeezing the rag he was holding. It was merely a fleeting gesture, however, for he relaxed his stance almost immediately afterward and kept scrubbing. "Yeah, I'm fine," he repeated.
Seemingly unconvinced, his mother stood up and walked towards him. "I don't have any more chores for you to do. Besides, I think you've learned your lesson, and—"
"I think I need more than a few lessons for what I did, Mom," Kenta said, cutting across her. "If you need something done, even if it's just a small thing, just tell me. It's not like I've got anything else to do or anyone else to talk to right now."
"I think it's better if you rest in your room instead."
"So that I can think about what I did all over again, right?"
"No." His mother placed a hand on his shoulder. "So you can start preparing for school again."
Kenta let out a short, harsh laugh. No matter how much he looked at it, it would take weeks before the incident died down. The other students who resented him for being so close to Monika were bound to have even more verbal vitriol for him now, and there was also the fact that his opponent could be looking for payback outside of school. No amount of preparing can help with that, and neither did Kenta have the drive to even fight back if things went south again.
"It's gonna be a long week filled with walks of shame," he grunted. "Well, it's not like I don't deserve it, right? This is what I get for being too stupid and mucking things up again, I know."
His mother sighed. "There's no need for that kind of talk."
"Oh trust me, Mom. There is," said Kenta. "And if you and Kanae got anything else to say to me, go right ahead. Might as well just keep piling it on so I can finally hammer it in my thick skull and hopefully, hopefully not mess up in the near frigging future."
He spoke the last few words with such bitterness that he found himself scrubbing the countertop in front of him with excessive force. Noticing the tone of his voice, his mother gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, but Kenta shrugged her hand off and turned around.
"I'm gonna take out the trash," he muttered, directing his mind towards anything that can distract from his frustration.
"You already did that earlier," said his mother.
Kenta grimaced. "Then I'll clean up in the yard."
"There's nothing there that needs cleaning anymore." With another sigh, his mother placed both of her hands on his shoulders now. "If you don't want to go to your room and rest, you can go ahead and do whatever you want. I just . . . I don't want to hear you saying those things to yourself like that. If you're doing that because your sister and I were too harsh on you, I'm sorry. You know that it's always difficult to be suspended, and even if this isn't the first time it happened, it's still a big deal for us all. But I know that you'll be making up for it at school, just like what you're doing here."
Kenta lowered his gaze. Somehow, he could hear Monika saying such words, and that made him feel even guiltier. After a few more moments of silence, he walked away. "I'll just take a walk outside, then."
As if she saw no point in stopping him further, his mother called out, "Okay. Take care."
The cold air in the streets provided some respite for Kenta as he walked along the sidewalk. He had not bothered to go to his room to get some warmer clothing, but he figured that his strong frame can help him handle the chill in the meantime. People passed him by, never once casting a glance towards him, unmindful of what he was thinking or what he had done. Looking up, he was that the sky above was starting to darken slightly. The recent days had been punctuated by some occasional rains, and Kenta knew that he would have to go back home early if he was to avoid getting caught full-blast by a possible onset of chilly autumn rain. As much as he thought that getting sick was merely an additional penance that he was willing to shoulder, he didn't want to cause any more problems by missing school or having his mother tend to him because of it.
Fifteen minutes into his walk, Kenta settled down on a bench near the night market downtown. He rubbed his arms vigorously to ward off the cold. Given that it was still a school day, he wondered if he would be encountering some of his schoolmates here, and he made sure to keep as low a profile as he could. Still, there were some things that he could not avoid; in particular, the sight of middle-aged men walking to work reminded him of his father. Though his mother had foregone breaking the news to him about his recent suspension, Kenta cannot help but hearken back to the times that his father was told of his antics at school, and how disappointed he had sounded when he talked to him through a video call. Moreover, his far-flung position at Okinawa brought along thoughts of Monika's move to Osaka, and he imagined what he might be missing during his self-imposed exile.
It can't be helped. Monika's gonna move out, and there'll be nothing you can do about it after mucking things up at school, you dolt. Even as he dwelt on the resigned tone of his thoughts, however, he felt the urge to kick something in his path out of sheer frustration, even if it was merely a futile gesture of resistance to such a seemingly inexorable truth.
Thankfully, no rain fell as Kenta made his way back home. Nothing much changed as he walked, though he did catch sight of students wearing his school's uniform, telling him that classes for the day were over. He quickened his pace, not wanting to risk being spotted by schoolmates who had questions for him or by more upperclassmen that might have a bone to pick with him.
Along the way, however, he slowed down when he saw a fancy black car approaching him. Granted, there were a lot of fancy black cars in town, but Kenta instantly recognized this one through the profile of the man in the driver's seat.
The Steinbeck family car.
Kenta looked around for a moment, wondering if he would be spotted meandering along the sidewalk from even a sizeable distance. Moreover, he wondered if Monika was actually inside, on her way home from school. He watched the car drive towards him at an average pace, and for a moment he imagined it slowing down to a halt next to him. Kenta did not know whether to run towards another street and avoid it, to keep walking as if he had not noticed the vehicle, or to stop and see what would happen. Before he could make his move, however, the car did start to slow down and drive closer to the sidewalk towards him as it drew nearer. Knowing that it was now pointless to avoid it, Kenta stood and waited until the car's passenger doors were perfectly lined up with him.
To his surprise, it was the front passenger-side window that rolled down to greet him instead of the back. He peered in and saw the old, fatherly face of the Steinbeck family driver, Mr. Fujita.
"Good afternoon, son," said the elderly man cordially. "Didn't expect to see you out here."
"I was just taking a walk around town, sir," said Kenta with a polite nod. He cast a fleeting glance at the back seat. "I-Is Monika with you?"
Mr. Fujita shook his head. "Right after I picked her up at school, she asked me if she could come over to your house."
Kenta stared at the driver wordlessly for a few moments, feeling his heart skip a beat. He inched closer to the car, wondering if he had misheard. "A-At my house . . . ?"
"Yes," said Mr. Fujita. "Your mother had mentioned that you were out, but Miss Monika decided that she would wait for you. She sent me ahead so that I can run a few errands while she's there, so here I am. Do you need a ride back to your place? I can drop you off real quick."
"Oh, there's no need for that, sir!" said Kenta hastily. "My house is just five minutes away on foot. I'll just rush on home pronto!"
"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Fujita.
"Hundred percent," replied Kenta with a grin. "Thanks for the offer, though. And for, y'know, telling me and all."
"It was nothing. Take care, Mr. Yamaguchi," said Mr. Fujita with a smile.
Kenta waited until the black car drove further down the street and rounded a street corner in the direction of downtown. When he had made sure that the coast was clear, he broke into a run towards his house. His thoughts rose with his heartbeat as he bolted, careful to slow down at corners lest he run into an unwary passerby. All throughout, his mind raced alongside him.
She actually showed up at my house. And she's met Mom. Why did it have to be today? Maybe Daisuke or Naoki put her up to this. No, that's wrong. She must've planned this. Dammit, should've taken a bath before I left.
When he had arrived, he quickly sprinted across the front yard and nearly barreled through the front door with his tall frame. As if she had heard the commotion he was making, his mother came running to meet him as soon as he entered.
"There you are!" she said as he skidded to a halt in front of her. "We've been trying to text and call you! Why didn't you tell me you'd be having a visitor come over?"
"I left my . . . my phone here." Kenta leaned against a wall, panting. "And no, Mom, I didn't . . . even know that she was gonna come over. W-Where is . . . Where is she?"
"She's in the kitchen," said his mother, beckoning him to follow her down the hallway. "I've made some tea for us three. Come on, don't keep her waiting!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," said Kenta, taking in deep nourishing breaths to stabilize his heartbeat.
In the kitchen, Monika was seated at the dining table, looking around idly as she held a cup of tea in her hands. Nothing much seemed to have changed in her appearance; she still looked immaculate to Kenta, bearing no signs of stress from school or anything else. She glanced around when the two of them entered, and she beamed when she spotted him.
"Hello, Kenta," she said warmly.
"H-Hey there, Monika," said Kenta, smiling nervously back as his mother took a seat some distance away from Monika. "W-What brings you here?"
"I just wanted to see how you're doing," Monika replied. "I texted you a few times beforehand to tell you that I was going to come over, but you weren't replying all day."
"Ah, well, I was taking care of a few chores earlier, so I w-wasn't exactly looking at my phone," said Kenta, scratching his head in embarrassment. "And then I went out for a short walk, and like I told Mom over here, I didn't bring my phone with me even then. . ."
"I see. That's okay, I understand," said Monika lightly.
"Why don't you sit down?" his mother chimed in. "You look out of place just standing there, you know?"
"Oh! Er, yes, o-of course," Kenta coughed, quickly ambling towards the table to sit down in the chair adjacent to Monika's. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his mother watching the two of them shrewdly, and he did not need to guess that hard to know exactly she might be thinking.
"Monika here told me that you were classmates back in freshman year," his mother went on once she was seated alongside them.
"Oh, yeah, that's right," said Kenta with a nod. "That was the only time that we were classmates. Anyway, how are you?" he asked, turning to Monika in an effort to dictate the conversation and prevent his mother from asking anything too sudden.
"Still the same," Monika admitted with a sigh. "We have the school festival preparations to thank for a shortage in schoolwork, but the debate club's still going at it with the practice for nationals."
Kenta nodded as he listened. "Then that means I didn't miss much at school, huh?"
"I don't know what your other professors have been up to, but I don't think you missed out on anything important while you . . . while you were gone," Monika replied, changing her words and leaving out the obvious. "I've asked Naoki about that, and he told me just as much."
"Well, that's good, I guess," said Kenta. "Maybe I'll just ask him later about the lessons I missed and read up on them."
A short silence fell after their exchange. Kenta eyed Monika with fleeting glances, knowing that he had a lot more things to ask or tell her right now, but his mother's presence was proving to be a daunting obstacle indeed. For years she had been there with Kanae to interrogate him about his prospective crushes at school, but not once in living memory did any girl stop by at their house for a visit. Kenta knew that this moment would be a favorite dinner subject for the rest of the week, at the very least.
"What did you say your surname was again, young lady?" his mother asked Monika. "Sein . . . Stein . . . ?"
"Steinbeck, ma'am," Monika replied. "My father is from Germany. He moved here for work and met my mother, and the rest is history as they say."
"That sounds rather nice," said Kenta's mother. "Is he a businessman of some sort?"
"A general contractor, same as my mother."
"Oh, really? My husband worked once for a contractor, before he moved to Okinawa. Your parents must have a noticeable presence in the city, then?"
"Yes, although they're mostly in other prefectures taking care of work, and they're looking to settle down in a fixed place to make things easier. It won't be long until they . . . rather, until we move to Osaka."
As she spoke, Monika eyed Kenta fleetingly. Kenta looked away, not wanting to see something in her eyes that would make him remember her future exodus. It was for naught, however, when his mother piped up.
"So you are the girl Kenta mentioned before."
Here we go.
Monika showed no hint of surprise as she smiled. "What did he say?"
"Nothing much." Kenta saw his mother cast an amused glance at him. "Just that there was this friend of his that would be moving out in the future, and he seemed pretty sad about it too. I had already guessed that he was talking about a girl, and I had a feeling that you were that girl the moment you showed up."
Kenta let out a resigned sigh. "Yes, Mom. She's that girl," he admitted.
"The same girl that you were saving up your allowance for?" his mother added.
". . . Yes," Kenta hissed, his face turning red. He glanced over at Monika, who looked to be holding back a laugh as she took a sip of tea.
"There's nothing wrong with that," his mother went on, raising her hands. "Your father did the same when he courted me back in college."
Kenta grunted gruffly. "T-To be honest, she's also the one who, um . . ."
"Who what?" his mother asked.
"The one who . . . w-who helped me with . . . m-my studies back then. . ."
His mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. She turned to Monika and asked, "Did you really?"
Monika smiled modestly. "Let's just say that I saw his dilemma and gave him a little push, ma'am."
His mother let out a surprised titter. "Well, you fared better than I did, that's for sure. Never could get through to my boy all throughout middle school, and then suddenly he just asks for help from his cousin Kazuto over in the next town and starts going on this steady academic streak during his freshman year! I'll admit, he wasn't scoring straight A's, but it was a welcome change nonetheless. I thought for a while if he was just doing it all for a girl—not to be rude or anything, of course—but he never really said anything about it all. Anyway, regardless of his reasons, I welcomed his progress with open arms."
"Well, a source of inspiration and help isn't bad, but Kenta deserves the credit for that streak," said Monika, eyeing Kenta cordially and prompting him to turn crimson. "He took my advice in stride and kept gunning for improvement, and he managed to be his own tutor in no time at all."
"To be fair, when he started studying on his own, I thought he was possessed or something," his mother jested.
"Mom," Kenta hissed as Monika laughed.
"It's rather regretful that we never became classmates again, hmm?" she asked him. "The class lists grow more and more random every year, so it's hard to stick with the people we used to have classes with."
"Exactly," said Kenta. "Sometimes the guys and I think that those class lists are rigged at the start of every school year."
Monika giggled again. "We may never know."
As the minutes ticked away into half an hour, their conversations turned to more casual topics, much to Kenta's relief. His mother, vigilant but also polite, asked what questions she could about Monika—her life as a model student and as the president of the debate club, her parents' work in the other prefectures, and whether or not some of her mother's relatives were people that the Yamaguchi family knew. Though Kenta was worried that she would find the questions too wearisome, Monika was all but cordial as she replied and asked a few questions of her own. Kenta noticed how the conversation never once touched upon the subject of his fight at school or his suspension, and he was silently thankful that the two of them kept it that way.
Some ways into their talk, Kenta heard the doorbell ring. His mother, who was busy making more tea, turned around to answer the door, but he forestalled her. "I'll get it," he told her.
"If it's Mrs. Saionji, tell her I'll be right over!" his mother called out as he left the dining area.
"Yeah, yeah," Kenta replied just as he reached the front door. He opened it wide, expecting to see his mother's friend or at least someone else, but he stopped when he saw who the visitor exactly was.
From his perspective, the first thing that came to his mind was that the woman in front of him seemed to be the spitting image of Monika. She wore a black pencil dress topped by a matching blazer, with jewelry glinting at her throat and wrists and a pair of high heels allowing her to surpass Kenta in height. Her brown hair fell past her shoulders elegantly, reminding him of the time he had seen Monika with her hair down at her place. Her face was even shaped like Monika's, only more lined around the eyes and near the lips to give hints about her age. Even her eyes are the same.
It did not take too much for Kenta to guess who this woman was, though he wanted to make sure nonetheless. "C-Can I help you?" he asked.
"I'm looking for my daughter," the woman replied in a formal tone. "I've been told that she went here."
Kenta shifted his glance slightly to see the Steinbeck family car parked right beside the gate to their house. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Yes, she's inside right now, ma'am," he said politely.
The woman nodded. "Would you be kind enough to call her over right now?"
Before Kenta could say or do anything, however, he heard a rush of footsteps behind him. He turned around to see Monika jogging down the hallway to the front door, stopping in her tracks as soon as she saw the two of them.
"Mom," she uttered.
"Mr. Fujita told me that he dropped you off here," said the woman to her.
"I just took a look at my phone and I saw your texts," said Monika, walking forward to stand beside Kenta. "I thought you were still at the city hall."
"Things went a bit quicker than I expected, so here I am." She gave Kenta the faintest of smiles. "I suppose he's the friend that you went here to visit?" she asked Monika.
"Oh, y-yes," said Monika, giving Kenta a warmer grin. "Kenta, this is my mother, Fujiko Steinbeck. Mom, this is Kenta Yamaguchi."
Kenta inclined his head civilly. "Pleasedta— I mean, pleased to meet you, ma'am."
"Charmed," said Mrs. Steinbeck in reply, reminding him of Takeo Kimura for a moment. From the way she looked at him, Kenta wondered if she recognized him in some way.
"So are you done with your visit?" she asked, turning her gaze back to Monika. "Your father wishes to take us out for dinner after he finishes meeting with his client. If you come home with me now, we'd be able to prepare."
She sounds like someone's rich boss, Kenta noted as he and Monika exchanged fleeting glances.
"Kenta? Who's at the door?"
Looking behind him, Kenta saw his mother walking down the hallway, wiping her hands on the front of her dress. Just like Monika, she stopped short when she saw Mrs. Steinbeck, and Kenta saw how the two of them seemed worlds apart in terms of appearance.
"Um, who are you?" his mother asked, eyeing Mrs. Steinbeck from head to toe as if she was a celebrity.
Monika replied for her. "Ah, Mrs. Yamaguchi, this is my mother."
"Oh, so you're Mrs. Steinberg!" Kenta moved aside as his mother sauntered forward, sighing to himself as she got the surname wrong. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I suppose. Would you like to come in? I just prepared a fresh pot of tea!"
"No, but I do thank you for the offer," said Mrs. Steinbeck, giving her the same small smile that she had given Kenta earlier. She turned back to Monika. "So are you ready to go?"
"Oh, are you leaving already?" asked Kenta's mother.
"I'm afraid so," Mrs. Steinbeck replied. Monika, however, still looked unsure.
"Maybe I can stay for a bit longer and hail a cab instead?" she suggested. "I won't take too long."
Her mother regarded her for a moment. "We wouldn't want to keep your father waiting, though," she said curtly.
Monika hesitated. "Well, I don't know. . ." she muttered.
Kenta watched the dialogue unfolding before him, looking for what was hidden beneath the polite words and the formal looks between mother and daughter. He was starting to sense that Mrs. Steinbeck wasn't feeling too open with the idea of Monika visiting him like this on her own accord. His own mother, meanwhile, sensing a sort of tension brewing, excused herself promptly from their presence and returned to the kitchen. Monika, on the other hand, was obviously hesitating out of a desire to stay around longer and talk to him, and that made him feel both grateful and guilty at the same time. After what had transpired during the past week, it was more than he deserved.
"It's alright, Monika. Y-You can go."
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Monika looked at him, surprised. "Are you sure, Kenta?" she asked.
Am I? All Kenta managed to do, however, was to give a reassuring grin that belied his own uncertainty. "Y-Yeah. I mean, like your mom said, it's better if you don't keep your dad waiting," he replied. "Besides, it's not like we're not gonna see each other again. I mean, I'll be back at school tomorrow, right?" he added, attempting to add a bit more confidence in his voice.
For a few moments, Monika stared deep into his opal eyes, her emerald gaze tinged with regret, as if she was trying to apologize for her mother's sudden arrival. Nonetheless, she smiled back, evidently intending to drive away any suspicion from her mother.
"I suppose you're right," she said. "I'll see you at school, then."
Monika kept quiet as their family car drove down the street, feeling her mother's appraising gaze upon her. She had kept her waiting for a bit longer as she exchanged some final pleasantries with Mrs. Yamaguchi, and it had been difficult concealing her disappointment afterwards, feeling resentful at the fact that she had been picked up too early especially since she had not managed to talk to Kenta that much. When she had heard from his friends about how he was keeping his distance out of guilt, and when she saw that he wasn't replying to a lot of her texts in the way he used to, she had decided to pay him a visit to both comfort him and assuage her worries. In a way, her efforts worked; Kenta seemed to feel better even though she was made to leave early, and that reassured her about his return to school.
As their car entered downtown, her mother spoke up beside her. "You're being awfully quiet."
Monika sighed. "I just wanted to stay for a little longer, but it's fine," she said without looking at her.
"There's always tomorrow. Or next time," her mother pointed out.
"Yeah, maybe."
Silence fell for a few moments. "That red-headed boy, he's your admirer, yes?"
Monika glanced around at her mother. The question seemed imposing enough, but her mother's face was so impassive that it hardly seemed like a matter that would concern her. Then again, she mused, her mother was often selective of what kind of things she would concern herself with.
"Yes, Kenta and I are seeing each other," Monika admitted, deciding to go with the truth.
Her mother nodded. "Takeo said as much."
Monika gaped at her in surprise. "Takeo told you about Kenta?" she asked.
"Yes, back when they had dinner with us at home," her mother replied. "You had already gone upstairs by then, if I remember."
Monika paused, wondering what kind of things Takeo might have mentioned to her parents about Kenta. She knew that he would have undoubtedly heard about Kenta's fight and his consequential suspension, and while he had not said anything about it, she could sense how satisfied and even vindicated the vice president felt. He tackled their debate club practices with more vigor than before, and his mood had lightened to a point where he was less strict about his stance towards the other club members.
"Why didn't you tell us about him before?" her mother went on.
Her words brought Monika out of her thoughts. "Well, if you had asked me about it, I would've told you and Dad."
"Does that mean if we didn't ask or tell you, you wouldn't tell us?"
"Mom, when did you and Dad ever ask me about things normally?" Monika shot back.
For a moment, it looked as if her double-edged tone knocked her mother off of her impassive stance; she looked at her with a slight frown. "What?" she asked.
"Instead of asking me about school or my friends, you asked Takeo. And all of a sudden you're telling me that I should've talked more to you and Dad? It's starting to bug me, you know that? It's either you talk to me just to hear yourself talk, or because you want to tell me something that you've decided on without asking me first."
Her mother regarded her intently. "If you're feeling indignant that I made you go home early—"
"No, Mom, it's not that. It's . . ." A lot of things, Monika knew. Yet somehow, she felt cautious about continuing, as if this was not the time or place for her to argue. Though if not now, then when?
Her mother used her moment's worth of hesitation to speak up. "If this is about you going to Osaka for college, we can discuss that in the future. But personally, I see nothing wrong with it. We're moving out, after all, and college can be a tricky affair to tackle on your own. You're lucky that you'll be with us for it all."
You didn't even ask me about what I think. Monika felt her sadness and frustration well up in her, mixing into a heavy payload that made her heart sag. She wondered if her mother was consciously ignoring her side on things or if she was simply unmindful. Monika wanted to believe that it was the latter case, but it was hard to trust on such a notion given how long things have been going on like this. Not for the first time, she wondered if there was any difference between speaking to her mother through a cellphone call twice in a month and actually having her around without the chance to truly speak to her about how she felt and what she was going through.
Monika turned towards her mother, ready to keep arguing, but she stopped short when she caught sight of Mr. Fujita looking at her from the rearview mirror. It was a fleeting look—one drawn by the unavoidable sounds of an impending argument, no doubt—but Monika glimpsed a look of concern in the old man's eyes before he averted his gaze.
". . . Never mind," she said quietly, scooting further to the side and focusing her gaze instead upon the towering buildings that flanked the street. Seemingly taking her withdrawal as a form of surrender, her mother said nothing else.
Ten minutes later, their family car rolled through their house's front gates. One of their maids rushed out to meet them as Mr. Fujita pulled up near the front door, ready to attend to her mother as soon as she got out of the car. Monika exited the vehicle more sluggishly. Her mood dampened as she watched her mother walk into the house as if nothing had happened during the car ride, with the maid hurrying after her. Sighing, she turned to look at their house's front garden, wanting to find a bit of comfort in the sight of the flowers and trees everywhere.
"Miss Monika? Are you okay?"
Monika turned around to see Mr. Fujita watching her from inside the car, looking concerned once again. A twinge of embarrassment and guilt tugged at her as she knew that he had heard everything on their way home. Had their driver been someone else, Monika would have felt less awkward about what happened, but Mr. Fujita had been their family's driver for sixteen years, and she treated him and his wife as cordial friends.
"I do apologize as well for listening in while you and your mother were, ah . . . talking," the old man went on, bowing his head politely.
She gave the old driver a smile. "It's okay, Mr. Fujita. I'm alright. And I'm sorry that you had to hear . . . all that earlier."
"I understand," said Mr. Fujita, smiling back. "It's just remarkable to be reminded about how quickly you've grown up. I'm certain that your parents feel the same."
"Maybe. And if they don't, maybe I can just argue with them a bit more to remind them about it, right?" said Monika ruefully.
Mr. Fujita chuckled. "I wouldn't say 'argue.' Just . . . don't be afraid of letting them know what you think and how you feel. I'm sure that even if they don't show it, they listen to what you have to say. You are their daughter, after all."
Monika sighed inwardly. "I hope that's true. Thank you, Mr. Fujita. I appreciate that."
With that, Mr. Fujita bowed his head once again. He rolled up the car's windows and went down the driveway to park in front of the garage. Monika watched him go in silence, feeling more open to facing dinner with her parents on a better note. She wondered if her mother would talk to her father about what she had told her earlier, and whether she would feel relieved or saddened if she did not.