“Keep the bag stable during your walk home,” the baker said, indicating the paper bag on top of the glass countertop.
“Okay,” Masamichi answered as he gently pulled it toward him.
In the bag, there was a paper box containing a cake.
He couldn’t help but bring his face close to the mouth of the bag and get a whiff of the sweet scent of whipped cream.
Today was Christmas Eve.
Of course, Masamichi was a student preparing for his college entrance exams, so it was no time for him to get carried away with the holiday spirit.
Since that morning, he had attended a special winter lecture at his prep school and studied hard until past five in the afternoon.
I’m really glad I could get my adult body back. I wouldn’t have been able to take my entrance exams if I hadn’t, and all the decisions I’ve made that were important to me would have been meaningless.
He left the bakery shop, carrying the bag with the utmost care.
It was already dark outside, which made the shop lights along the street seem even brighter, and the Christmas decorations put up in the showcases made his heart flutter with excitement.
When he thought about it, he’d had plenty of time to mull over things while he’d been a child with nothing to do each day but wait for Shino to come home.
He’d been all alone, trying to cheer himself out of depression by imagining what he would do when he returned to his adult body.
One of those things had been to decide what to do about continuing his education.
After graduating from high school, he’d tried to get into a college with a good agriculture department, hoping to be useful to his parents and grandparents in their farming business.
Masamichi had been physically weak ever since he was young and was still far from being in good health. As an only child who would have been expected to inherit the family business in the olden days, he had always felt guilty about being unable to help with the work.
He thought the least he could do was to study agriculture academically to contribute in some way.
But this year, a big change had occurred at Masamichi’s family home. His father and his grandfather had decided to give up most of their farmland and quit farming.
His father found a job at a company he knew, while his grandfather continued to grow vegetables and rice in small plots as a hobby for personal consumption.
That meant there was no more reason for Masamichi to study agriculture.
During the two years he’d spent studying to get into college, he’d gradually realized that the sciences weren’t for him, but the change back home had shaken him to the core.
In addition, his current situation was peculiar, with Shino paying his tuition.
Shouldn’t he give up on going to college if it wasn’t necessary? Wouldn’t it be more constructive to help Shino at Bougyoudou while looking for something that he wanted to do?
Masamichi had thought about these things when he heard his family was closing down their business, but Shino hadn’t agreed.
He’d said studying was never a waste of time since Masamichi never knew what would become useful in the future, and there was no need to quit prep school or stop studying for his college entrance exams.
Shino had stressed that he should choose and decide his future not for the sake of others, but for himself.
He said he shouldn’t blame others for the things he chose or didn’t choose to do.
He had encouraged Masamichi, pointing out that he hadn’t been honest with himself to date.
It was moving to recall Shino’s words to be responsible for his own life.
Masamichi had been thinking about it ever since and resolved to find some closure after all.
He had decided that his next challenge to get accepted by a college agriculture department would be his last.
He had told his teacher at his prep school about it that day and was finally feeling good.
“Well, okay. That might be a good idea. So, well, good luck,” the teacher had said. It hurt him a little, but Masamichi could understand the man’s position when he considered his own stagnating grades.
It’ll be my last try, so I’ll give it everything I’ve got. I mean, I’ve been doing my best until now, but I’ll work even harder, so the time I’ve spent going to prep school wouldn’t have been wasted.
Masamichi hurried home, determined like never before.
“I’m home!”
Bougyoudou had already closed for the day by the time he returned, and Shino was in the kitchen.
As usual, he didn’t reply, and his back remained turned toward Masamichi, but that no longer bothered him.
The young man put the cake box in the refrigerator, hurried up the steep stairs to his room, changed into comfortable clothes, washed up, and ran back down to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry I was a bit late getting home. I was talking to my teacher. What can I do to help?”
Busy frying something, Shino glanced at Masamichi’s face and said without a smile, “Put the cooked food on plates… Oh, before that, take the wine to the table.”
Just for a moment, Masamichi didn’t understand what Shino had said, but he immediately broke into a grin and replied, “Got it!” before stopping in his tracks. “I’ve never removed the cork from a bottle of wine before.”
Holding a pair of long chopsticks for cooking in his hand, Shino said casually, “There is no cork. Just pour the wine into glasses.”
“Yeah? Okay.”
Nodding, Masamichi checked a cupboard that they didn’t usually open. Inside was a set of old-fashioned, high-quality tableware that Daizou and his wife had probably used for guests.
Masamichi took one of the small wineglasses next to it and placed it on the table, where a bottle of red wine was perched.
Masamichi’s face lit up when he saw the label.
It said AKADAMA SWEET WINE, a favorite of his grandmother’s.
It was an alcoholic beverage with a bright-red color and a strong, sweet taste that was completely different from today’s red wines.
His grandmother used to say it made her blood flow better and helped her sleep well. At dinnertime, she would pour herself a tiny shot glass of the Akadama wine and slowly sip it.
As a child, Masamichi thought it looked really good and had longed to try it.
He’d seen the simple label, featuring a yellow background and a red circle, every night and grown very fond of it.
“Did Daizou and Yoriko drink this, too?” Masamichi asked, and Shino replied quietly without turning around.
“Yoriko went out and bought it at Christmas, looking very happy.”
“Ah. So it was special, huh? My grandmother used to drink a bit of it every day, and I had a tiny taste of it when I was older. It was sweet, like juice. Do you like this, Shino?”
“I have no particular feelings for it. I only drank it as she suggested, figuring it was what humans did.”
“I see,” Masamichi responded simply with a smile on his face.
Shino remembered what the previous Bougyoudou owners customarily did at Christmas, then had gone out, bought a bottle of the wine, and was now dedicating the first glass to them.
Nothing could show Shino’s true feelings for the couple better than that.
Thank you for sharing your precious memories with me.
Masamichi quietly expressed his gratitude to Shino in his mind and poured the beautiful ruby-colored liquid into a delicate glass. Then he brought the photo of Daizou and Yoriko, which was usually displayed on the chest of drawers in the tea room, and placed it on the table.
He put the glass in front of it and closed his eyes, joining his hands together in prayer.
After offering a short prayer of thanks, Masamichi returned to the kitchen to help Shino.
“So… Okay…”
Everything was laid out on the table as Masamichi sat facing Shino as usual and was about to propose a toast. But as he lifted his glass, the words wouldn’t come out.
Shino wasn’t in the habit of making toasts or greeting people. Although Masamichi had decided to give it a try, figuring Shino wouldn’t do the honors, he’d never done it, either.
What’s more, he had never actually said the words Merry Christmas to anyone, even as a child when his family celebrated the occasion together.
Everyone would be rather vague, saying things like “Okay, then” and clinking their glasses together.
Shino looked at Masamichi suspiciously as his servant hesitated, his glass frozen in midair. The specter then raised his glass without a word, touched it lightly to Masamichi’s glass, and took a sip in a sweeping motion.
“…Oh.”
So that’s all you need to do when you make a toast.
It was a bit of a letdown, but Masamichi felt relieved.
For Shino, a toast was nothing more than a ritual for drinking something, so maybe the words you said didn’t matter.
But to Masamichi, drinking without a word…seemed rather unsettling. He said in a low voice, “…I’m going to join you,” and brought his glass to his lips.
While their offering for Daizou and Yoriko was in a wineglass, Shino and Masamichi drank from long, thin glasses of higher quality.
The port wine was very sweet, as the name suggested, so Masamichi decided to dilute it with soda water from the fridge and add a little lemon juice to make it better match their meal.
Then Shino said the same would be fine with him, and they ended up drinking something that tasted like a cocktail.