Sojiro Sakura (P5) 30/05
Japan has rules. It's easy to live in Japan if you know how to follow those rules.
Before receiving a gift you must politely refuse it at least twice. When you do receive it, you must do so with both hands. You send a thank you letter or gift in return for your gift.
All are a part of the series of rules that make up Tatemae, an intricate dance that one learns as a child to perfect being an adult.
Sojiro is good at it. It's how he worked his way into government.
Of course he doesn't always agree with the people in charge, but they are his Bosses. They know better than he does, surely.
For all he himself is good at following the rules, he seems to have a soft spot for the people in his life who do not.
He first met Wakaba Isshiki when she accidentally comes into the wrong classroom, and proceeds to start a debate with the teacher.
He's struck by fascination that leads to a friendship that lasts through his government job, her pregnancy, the opening of his cafe, and to her death.
He loves her. She doesn't return his feelings. She doesn't return anyone's feelings, so he doesn't take it personally. She's still his best friend, and being in love with her does nothing to dampen that.
Sometimes he wonders if maybe he should, but her first love is science, and her second love is cooking and both of those are eclipsed by Futaba after she has had a daughter. He may not be Futaba's father in blood, but for everything else he is her dad.
It's odd now to look at Futaba and know that Sakura is attached to her name, and not Isshiki. And will not be Isshiki again, even after he failed her.
Futaba is not happy as his daughter. For all she had her share of social trouble before, he would happily take any of that now. She has become a shell of herself, and he does not know how to help.
Society says that her family would be the best people to take care of her after her mothers death.
Once he would have agreed. Before Futaba, he would have agreed with everyone's opinions about single mothers, orphans, and bosses.
He doesn't agree anymore, but trying to fight the system all the time is a losing battle. He will stick to picking a fight that matters to win, and fall in line for the rest of it. Futaba is that fight.
He's not sure what compels him to take on another kid, when he is already doing a terrible job with his daughter. He has her safe now, but that does not mean she believes it. She eats, she stays up at all hours, never leaves the house, and rarely talks to him.
He's worried, he doesn't know what to do about it, and does not have the faintest idea for where to start looking for mental health help.
You are not really supposed to talk about those things.
When an old friend called asking for him to look after the delinquent kid of her friend, he had intended to say No.
Something had stopped him. It could have been the note of exhaustion in her voice. Or perhaps that she was even asking him. After all, he doesn't even know the kids' parents. So he says yes.
And then he realizes he has a problem.
He does not know how Futaba will react.
And maybe it would be fine, Futaba stays in her room all the time anyways. But also, maybe not. He doesn't want to drive her into further isolation in case she does take affront to the stranger. It's her home first and foremost, and he wants her to feel safe in it.
It's not until he walks into the storage room above the cafe, where he used to spend his nights before he could afford a home, that he knows where to put the kid.
It has a cot. And that's enough, after all it's a place to stay for a year, not a home.
Before the kid can use it, he has to clear it.
De-cluttering is not his strong suit.
It's still a mess by the time the kid comes to move in, but it's a mess that can be worked with, unlike when he first started.
The kid could use something to keep him out of trouble, and maybe cleaning would be a better use of his time then he would get up to, on his own.
The kid himself is almost underwhelming when he walks in. He doesn't look like a delinquent. Japan has changed these days. The days of the Yakuza -once visible, distinct, and traditional- are fading, as new ways take crime in directions that are harder for him to stomach. The face of a delinquent looks like any other now.
But it's easier like this. Easier for the kid to move past his mistake, and step back into the ways of Japanese society. So maybe the change is ok. Less ties. He leaves the kid with a broom and goes to make curry.
Sojiro didn't really understand the appeal of curry, once. He would like to say Wakaba changed his mind, with an innovative variation, or that he learned from his grandmother, but truthfully it's none of that.
The best curry he has ever had was when he was cold and hungry walking from school one rainy day. A classmate waved him into her shop, and gave him a warm bowl with rice. He doesn't remember her face or name, but he remembers the way it warms him from inside out. Since then, curry has been his favorite.
Maybe the kid needs something like that. Sure, Sojiro doesn't want to get attached, but its hard to deny someone a good meal.