With the car doors closed, the sound of the tires against the road’s surface was so muted that it didn’t bother me. The gentle jostling of my seat was like pink noise, lulling me to sleep.
My eyelids gradually grew heavier, and I started to doze. Occasionally, I’d chat with Akiko or Dad to keep myself awake.
We ran into some traffic jams along the way, but eventually, we reached the Oizumi Junction and transferred onto the Kan-Etsu Expressway. From there, we continued north through Saitama Prefecture.
Dad and Akiko did most of the talking. They didn’t discuss anything special—just trivial things in their daily lives, like Akiko’s cooking. Dad would comment on the dishes he’d found particularly delicious, and then Akiko would promise to make them again. It was no different from what they talked about at home.
I’d add a comment now and then, but I wasn’t really participating. Even so, I could tell Akiko was still really nervous. I figured Dad had noticed, too. It appeared everything I’d heard about anxious second wives was true.
Worried about the relatives, huh?
If Ayase and I went public with our relationship, what would be the least awkward way to break it to our parents? Realistically, we’d still have to live with them until we finished high school. That meant we’d have to face them every morning… Having an awkward relationship with people you had to see on a daily basis sounded really rough. I didn’t even want to think about it. Despite that, I had no desire to break off my relationship with Ayase, either.
Could you really give up someone so easily once you were in love? Of course, if she started hating me, I wouldn’t have a choice…
At that point, a possibility I’d never considered occurred to me. What if my relationship with Ayase suddenly came to an end? We’d still be siblings… That connection would continue, even if we married other people in the future.
I was her elder brother, and she was my younger sister. That was a fact, and that was how our relatives on both sides would see us, unless Dad and Akiko split up.
What am I thinking now? I don’t want that to happen.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
“What’s the matter, Yuuta?” asked Dad. “Are you carsick?”
“No, I just remembered something unpleasant.”
“Did you forget to bring your homework?”
“…No, I remembered to pack it.”
Does he think the worst thing I could be remembering is homework…? Well, there’s no way he’d guess it was about love, I suppose.
And between his son and his stepdaughter of all people.
I sighed again, fully aware he’d probably misinterpret the action.
Ayase was still gazing out at the scenery. It was now fully light outside, and the landscape around us had gradually changed from a forest of high-rises to the open country.
Bare trees and rice paddies lined both sides of the expressway. In the summer, this would all be a bright green. But at this time of year, everything was black and brown. I could see snow-covered mountains in the distance.
After driving for two hours, we took a break at a rest stop.
Continuing north, we saw the brown landscape begin to take on patches of white.
“There’s snow on the ground,” said Dad.
“It’s not just on the ground. It’s really piling up!” Akiko replied.
“Well, we are in Nagano.”
“Akiko, is this your first time visiting Nagano in winter?” I asked.
“I came here to ski once when I was young.”
“So you can ski?”
“Only if you count rolling to the bottom of the hill.”
I don’t think that counts…
“How about you, Taichi?” she asked. “Do you ski?”
“Me? Of course. I was a local until I moved away for college.”
“I didn’t know you could ski, Dad…”
What a surprise.
Our drive had us passing in and out of tunnel after tunnel. Every time, the scenery on the other side seemed quieter and more deserted.
Villages up in the mountains were sparsely populated, with few houses and lots of space between them. Most of the buildings were only one story tall.
After driving through yet another long tunnel, Dad made an announcement.
“Once we pass Saku, we’ll be in Komoro.”
We were currently on the Joshin-Etsu Expressway. It would meet back up with the Hokuriku bullet train line again at the Saku Interchange, just past Karuizawa. After that, we’d be in Komoro, then Nagano. Dad’s hometown was beyond that, deep in the mountains. I doubt most people will recognize all these place names, and to be honest, I hadn’t memorized them, either. But Dad kept explaining each one for Akiko, so I was reminded of them as we passed through.
I glanced over at Ayase and saw that she was sitting up, staring out the window even more intently than before.
“Did something catch your attention?” I asked.
She turned around as if she’d only just noticed I was sitting next to her. “Oh, um, nothing in particular. It’s… Well, look over there.”
She pointed out the right window. I nodded and looked in the direction she’d indicated.
Across the road was a single-story house with a tiled roof among an expanse of snow-covered rice paddies. It stood alone at the foot of the mountains, extra visible in the sea of white.
“That old house?” I asked.
“Yeah. It looks ancient. Is that what they call a kominka? You know, the more traditional-style houses.”
“Yeah.”
If I remembered correctly, that specific term referred to any house that was over fifty years old. When most people heard the word, they thought of historic buildings, but by that definition, any house from the early seventies or before would count. That was a quarter century after the end of World War II. In other words, they were old houses, but they could still be relatively modern by historical standards.
“That house is probably pretty ancient even by kominka standards,” I said.
Moments later, the scenery changed again to an expanse of bare trees. But among them, we could still see a few houses of similar construction on either side of the road.
“Look, over there. I think that house is even older.”
“I can see a satellite dish sticking out of it, though.”
“A satellite dish? …You sure are observant.”
“We’re probably just focused on different things.”
A white parabolic antenna was sticking out one of the windows, bringing in satellite signals from thirty-six thousand kilometers above.
Dad overheard our conversation and joined in. “This area is surrounded by mountains. Phones sometimes don’t work out there. And if you want to watch TV, you’ve gotta rely on cable or satellite.”
I nodded.
“Takes away some of the charm, admittedly,” he added.
“I guess you’d want those things if you lived out here, though,” said Ayase.
“True. I remember it was really hard to get an internet connection when I was young. Now it’s almost the same as in the city.”
“I figured.”
“Do you like old houses like that?” I asked, and Ayase nodded.
“I like to look at old buildings that are still in their original state. Like historic houses, shrines, and temples.”
“Castles, too?”
“Yep. And stone walls.”
“Stone walls? …Just the walls?”