We might be having turkey, but we were eating rice and miso soup with it. For a Christmas dinner, it was still very Japanese.
“Well, I think it’s fine, Mom,” Ayase offered. “There’s even a salad. That’s Western-style, right? And we’ve got several kinds of dressing… Which one would you like, Dad?”
“I think I’d like the one with rice vinegar and soy sauce.”
Really getting into the Christmas spirit, I see.
Personally, I didn’t mind having rice and miso soup for Christmas dinner. Still, I couldn’t help wanting to tease them.
“We have pickled cabbage and cucumber, too,” Akiko said. “You like that, right, Taichi?”
“Thanks. I love it.”
“Mom… Wouldn’t Western-style pickles have been—?” Ayase swallowed the word better.
Our parents were happy, so there was no need to push. Or maybe she’d just given up.
Ayase and I exchanged wry smiles and took our seats. It’s the thought that counts, after all.
“Merry Christmas! And happy birthday, Yuuta!”
“Come on, Dad. Couldn’t you wish me a happy birthday first? Even if you’re more excited about Christmas…”
“That’s true. Sorry. Happy birthday, Saki. And Merry Christmas!”
“Thank you.”
“Happy seventeenth to both of you,” Akiko said, looking at each of us in turn.
After that, we had a toast. Dad drank a beer, while the rest of us had nonalcoholic champagne.
Then it was time to eat. As usual, Akiko’s miso soup was delicious. Dad had the right idea—it didn’t matter if the food was Western or Japanese. Either way, it was delicious.
Today’s miso soup contained tofu, finely chopped green onions, and red miso paste. As I took a sip, something occurred to me: Were the ingredients meant to represent Christmas colors? …A Japanese-style Christmas dish, huh? Not bad…
“This sauce is really good,” said Akiko.
“The meat isn’t too tough, either,” Dad agreed. “I think this is a winner.”
They both sounded pleased. It seemed like my taste buds were in line with everyone else’s.
After finishing our meal (I held back considerably since I knew we’d be having dessert), we sipped coffee and cut the cake.
The large cake was topped with a piece of chocolate emblazoned with the words MERRY CHRISTMAS, along with a biscuit shaped like Santa Claus.
Akiko slid a kitchen knife into the creamy icing. I could see bits of red fruit between layers of yellow sponge cake. They must be strawberries. A standard Japanese Christmas cake.
“It’s better to go with tried-and-true option than end up with something disappointing, right?” said Dad.
I agreed, and the four of us dug in, celebrating our first combined Christmas-birthday party as a family.
Dad was delighted that my grades had started improving, and he asked Ayase if she was interested in attending prep school, too.
“If you’re concerned about the tuition—,” he began.
“No, it’s okay. I’m just… I have a feeling I’d get distracted if I started doing too many new things at once.”
It sounded like she was holding back, but Dad didn’t push her.
Thinking back, Ayase had been living alone with her mom until six months ago, and now she was suddenly in an apartment with two men. You couldn’t blame her for having a tough time adjusting.
In addition, Dad and I had never left our home, but Ayase and Akiko had gone through a big move. If I were her, I would have been overwhelmed by all the changes, too.
Wow… It’s already been six months since we met…
“Okay, Saki. But let me know if you ever change your mind, all right?”
“Thanks, Dad.”
When he heard that last part, Dad broke into a smile. He was already well on his way to becoming her doting parent.
“I’m more worried about you, Yuuta,” said Akiko. “You study so much. Are you making time to have fun?”
“What? Aren’t most parents way more concerned about grades? I’d understand if you asked me to study more, but…”
“I’ve never had to worry about that,” said Dad.
It was true—Dad had never once told me to study. But he did check through all the notices I brought back from school. I didn’t remember clearly, but I figured he’d started after my birth mother left us. He always asked to see my report cards, and he’d asked to see my tests, too, all the way through junior high.
He never said anything to me about them, though. He’d just look at the papers and mumble to himself. I felt like a patient watching my doctor check over my X-rays. A few days later, I’d find reference books for all the subjects I’d done badly on sitting casually on my desk. That alone had put a lot of pressure on me.
Once I finished my compulsory education, though, I stopped showing him everything besides my report cards, claiming I had a right to privacy.
“Ever since you were little, you’ve spent all your time reading,” Dad said. “You’re only a student for a little while, so you should make sure to live it up and enjoy yourself.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m enjoying myself in my own way.”
“You are? Well, that makes me happy as your parent… But back to the matter at hand.”
Dad and Akiko looked at each other. Then Akiko stood up and went to their bedroom. She reached behind the door, pulled out a paper bag, and brought it over to the table.
“Here you go. These are presents for the two of you from Taichi and me.”
“Huh? Are these…?” I wondered aloud.
“Books?” Ayase tilted her head.
We both recognized the holiday wrapping paper. We’d both seen it more times than we could count—it was from the bookstore where we worked.
“Can we open them?” I asked.
“Of course.”
Eyeing Dad suspiciously, I tore away the wrapping paper. As I’d thought, it was a book. But it wasn’t just any book…
“Red books?!”
“We thought you’d need them for your college entrance exams. You don’t have any yet, do you?”
“Well, no, not yet.”
Ayase sat next to me, utterly speechless. I knew how she felt.