Volume 1 - CH 3.2

The end of July—the end of semester ceremony was over in the morning, the afternoon was free.

I took a leisure stroll around the school grounds. The brass band’s rehearsal performance was prevalent. I was thinking about Yuzuki. I wondered where she was now, and what she was doing.

It was when I swung around to the back of the school building.

“Ah.”

Yuzuki was crouching against the wall.

Caught by the unexpected meeting, I greeted her curtly. “L-long time no see. Sorry to bother.”

“Wait–” She caught my blazer’s hem “Where are you going? Let’s talk.”

She dragged me back. We had been together for so long, but at that moment, everything felt new. I couldn’t help but look at her profile. Was she this beautiful?

“How are you doing?”

I replied hurriedly, “Fine.”

“You’re eating well?” She questioned me like a mother.

“What about you, heard your schedule’s packed.”

Yuzuki smiled mischievously, leaned forward, and asked, “Still ten years early for you to worry about me, Yakumo-kun”

“What does that mean…”

I pretended to be annoyed and turned my face away—but in fact, it was to hide my reddened cheeks. Her upturned eyes had that effect on me.

Silence fell.

“Yuzuki, are you dating Roppongi-senpai?” I blurted.

Yuzuki laughed mischievously, all swagger.

“You’re interested?”

“Not really. Aida wouldn’t shut up about it, that’s all.”

“Liar. You are.”

Ahead of us, the scatter of shade from trees swayed with the wind.

Yuzuki, however, looked satisfied and murmured, “Tomorrow’s summer break, isn’t it?” A suspenseful pause. “Do you have time tomorrow? I have a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Come over tomorrow.”

５

The next day, I visited Yuzuki’s house. With a pounding heart, I pressed the doorbell.

Immediately, the door opened. She smiled and let me through. It had been a year since I had been in the Igarashi household. The scent of the house was nostalgic.

Deep in my thoughts, I ran into the person I least expected. On the other side of the room, her manager, Hojo, lounged with a self-satisfied look.

His mouth twitched when he saw me. “Hey, it’s been a while, Yakumo-kun.”

Yuzuki smiled unconcernedly. Looking at her face, I had a hunch. Perhaps she had no other option but to be alone with Hojo that day. At her wit’s end, she called me over.

With a smile as fake as his, I amiably sat on the couch.4

“Why don’t we take a commemorative photo,” he suggested.

I couldn’t understand what was worth commemorating, but Hojo was already snapping pictures. He’d probably crop me out from the frame later, from the look of things.

After chatting about various things, we decided to eat the shortcake Hojo had bought for us. Not by coincidence, I suspect, there were two slices. 

“Here, Yakumo-kun, take the strawberries.”

My sidelong glance told me Hojo was sneering. “You can have my strawberries, Yuzuki-chan.”

“I’m not in the mood for strawberries today, that’s why I gave it to Yakumo-kun.”

“Me too, take it, Yuzuki-chan.”

“Hm, take care of this too, then, Yakumo-kun.”

My thin, unbalanced cake was topped with two strawberries. It was hard to suppress a laugh when I saw the look of hatred on Hojoss face. “Give me back my strawberries!” His expression was saying, “Give me back my strawberries!!!”

Then Hojo suddenly got up and turned on the CD player set in the other room. Yuzuki rolled her eyes as her performance began playing. Hojo grinned and took a witty pose. Suddenly and furiously, he began to expound on how marvelous her performance was.

Yuzuki turned red. Hojo saw that and increased his fervor. Unbeknownst to him, Yuzuki was red with anger, not embarrassment. Seeing that she might explode at him anytime soon, I pretended to head for the bathroom and slipped out. In transition between songs, I surreptitiously replaced the CD and returned to the living room.

Yuzuki was at her limit. I wondered what Hojo might have said while I was gone.

At that moment, the replaced CD started playing.

Her expression instantly relaxed. I sent  a meaningful look at her and we both snickered. Hojo hadn’t noticed, and continued to heap his praise. Her voice slipped, and she quickly covered it up, which proved unnecessary. Hojo misunderstood her laughter and more than ever, extol ardently.

“Only she can perform like this!”

Trying hard not to laugh, I made customary comments. “You’re absolutely right.”

Yuzuki puffed, in which she pretended to sneeze. Every time Hojo said something absurd, it felt as if we were accomplices in some strange, sweet crime.

Just then, my right hand and Yuzuki’s left hand’s pinky finger grazed under the table. Intentional or not, there was no way of knowing.

Somehow, I didn’t want to find out. I was happy to leave it ambiguous.

I didn’t pull back, neither did her. Our hands never intertwined, but never left each other, either.

I thanked the female pianist silently for her wonderful performance in place of Yuzuki’s.

Thank you, Marta Argerich.

６

After the visit, we became somewhat closer again.

Sometimes, I went to her place, sometimes, she came to mine. Although she never played piano in front of me ever again.

In August, we promised to go to Umune Festival, a local summer festival in front of the Koriyama Station.

The front door of Igarashi’s house opened, revealing Yuzuki in yukata. Deep blue fabric with Dwarf Iris floral pattern. Her obi sash was bright red, her hair up in a knot. The bun was adored with white flower hairpins.

The darkness seemed to brighten as soon as she appeared.

Yuzuki looked at me and smiled. “Does it look good on me?”

She spun around for me to get a look. Her wooden sandals clicked against the concrete, a soft smell rose from her. I was too stunned to take a good look.

Sousuke-san appeared at the entrance. I froze. Last time I saw him was when I broke the window.

“I’ll take you to the station,” he said, and walked smoothly past me. 

Not sure how to feel, I anxiously followed him and Yuzuki. I awkwardly ducked into the BMW coupé and the wheels began to roll. The darken stress and hedges flowed by.

Not knowing what to say, I kept to myself. Yuzuki, too, was as quiet as a doll.

“Good to see you again, Yakumo-kun. Yozuki was always talking about you.” Sousuke-san broke the silence.

“Good to see you too…”

I glanced at Yuzuki, she was caught in the world beyond the window.

“I heard you joined the baseball club.”

Since he brought up the topic, I went along with him. I mentioned Roppongi-senpai a few times, none of which got Yuzuki’s attention.

“What about your school days, Sousuke-san, any clubs?”

“Piano for me, there’s no club so I play by myself. WEnt to music college, met Ranko, and… got stuck there. Yuzuki’s talent’s entirely from Ranko, her looks too, actually. Wonder what we have in common…” he said bitterly.

“Your kindness?” I suggested.

He looked surprised. Through the rearview mirror, our eyes met. His eyes were filled with joy. That only lasted for a second, though.

“I’m not as good as you’d think.” He chewed.

“You’re a good person, Dad.”

Still looking out the window, Yuzuki said. Sousuke-san’s lips opened, and closed again as he returned his gaze forward. Even in the same car, it was as though they were going on opposite lanes.

I remembered the time when she explained about the “forfeiture” to me. The word was stark in my mind like a white shell amid a muddy beach.