“We’d just met, and I thought he hated me.”
“If you wanted me to teach you how to ski, you should have said so!”
“So you would have taught anyone who asked?”
“Urk. Th-that isn’t what I meant—”
Nagisa chuckled.
“I’m just not used to being flattered.”
“Kou, you should have more confidence. And besides, your reaction is what got me interested.”
“Really?” I asked, unable to keep myself from butting in.
“Really. I liked how humble he was. It made him seem honest.”
“Um… Thanks.”
“Hee-hee.”
The way they doted on each other was so refreshing. If they’d been dating since they were college sophomores, they must have been together for about six years. That was a pretty long time, and yet they were still as sweet on each other as a new couple.
These past six months, I’d been seeing Dad and Akiko act the same way—as sweet as maple syrup mixed with whipped cream. I thought I’d gotten used to it, but I’d never expected to see that kind of behavior from my cousin. Yet here he was, acting just as silly. Maybe he was even worse. I thought I’d seen it all, but the world was full of surprises. Maybe Akiko and my dad had been holding back while we were around.
“I think I understand…,” came a barely audible whisper.
I didn’t realize Ayase had been leaning forward and listening to the pair. I didn’t know why, but Ayase averted her eyes when I looked at her.
I turned back to face Kousuke and asked, “Was your marriage a sudden decision?”
I wondered why Dad hadn’t known. I thought it was typical to at least tell your relatives when you got married.
“We haven’t had a wedding yet,” Kousuke admitted. He said it would be at least another six months before they had a ceremony, though they had obtained a marriage license, just like Dad and Akiko.
“Are you going to skip the wedding?” I asked.
“Oh, it isn’t like that. We want to have one. Actually, I wasn’t planning to propose to Nagisa until a little later.”
“Huh?”
I couldn’t help glancing at Nagisa. Shouldn’t it bother her that her fiancé wanted to postpone their wedding? But she didn’t seem bothered by it.
“The thing is,” Kousuke began. “Uh… This is something I’ve only told my parents about, but it looks like my job is sending me overseas.”
“Overseas?!”
“Yeah. For about two years.”
“Starting when?”
“Next spring.”
“That’s really soon!”
“It’s not enough time to book a wedding venue or go through any of the other procedures.”
“It’s impossible,” Nagisa said. “…We checked.”
“We were told to book at least six months in advance and that we wouldn’t be able to make a reservation until after this summer.”
“Wow… Is that typical?” I asked.
I’d never really thought about weddings, so naturally, I had no idea. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like.
“Yeah. Maybe we could find someplace if we weren’t picky. But Kousuke has many relatives, we would need a venue that was reasonably convenient for everyone to get to, and it would have to be on a day when they could make it.”
“And places like that get booked solid. Nagisa’s preferences are also important to consider. It doesn’t matter to a guy whether it’s Japanese-style or Western, but some women want to wear a wedding gown, while others prefer a more traditional white wedding kimono.”
“Are you trying to pin this on me?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Anyway, it’s impossible to tell how long I’ll be overseas. It could be over two years.”
“And I didn’t want to wait.”
Nagisa looked like a quiet person, but it seemed she was the type to express her feelings clearly. I wondered if that suited Kousuke. He wasn’t very good at reading other people’s minds.
“So we decided that we’d get a marriage license at the very least. She said she wanted to go overseas with me, and my company didn’t say I had to leave my wife behind.”
“So the two of you are going abroad?” I asked. “…When did you get your marriage license?”
“On the twenty-fourth.”
“What? You mean the twenty-fourth of December?”
“Precisely.”
No wonder we hadn’t heard anything.
“We’ve been living together for six months,” Kousuke said, “so all we really did was go through the procedure. But it’s important to remember anniversaries like that, so we picked a special day.”
“Kou forgets things easily,” Nagisa explained. “He even forgets my birthday if I don’t remind him.”
“Come on, I wouldn’t forget your birthday.”
“Oh, no?”
“Have some faith in me, will you?”
I could tell the two of them really got along.
“So anyway, Yuuta,” Kousuke said, turning to me. “I think we’ll head back to the living room now.”
“Oh, right,” I said. “We should go back—”
Just then, we heard the thud-thud-thud of footsteps, and the sliding door opened. Two children burst into the room, saying, “Yuu! Let’s play!”
The two grade-schoolers had yanked the sliding door with such enthusiasm that it slid back closed with a bang. Without a hint of hesitation, they came crashing into me.
“Yuu! Yuu! Let’s play!”
“Yeah, let’s play!”
All of a sudden, the room was filled with noise.
“Hey, Takumi. Hey, Mika. It’s been a while,” I said, lifting them both up in my arms. I hadn’t seen them in a year, and they’d grown. Takumi, the boy, was two years older than Mika, the girl. They were Dad’s younger sister’s kids, meaning they were my cousins.
“Hey, look, Yuu!” exclaimed Takumi. “See this? I got this monster!”
“I got a monsterrr!”
“No, you didn’t. You got a ring. The monster’s mine!” Takumi said, proudly lifting a soft vinyl toy.
Mika looked up at her brother’s toy, then mimicked his pose, holding a ring high up toward the ceiling. It wasn’t the kind of ring an adult would wear, though. It was made of plastic and about the size of a baseball. Where a typical ring might have a jewel, the toy had what looked like a magic circle. Maybe it was associated with some anime. I wasn’t sure which one, but Maru would probably know.
“Then this is a ring-monster,” Mika said excitedly.
“What the heck is that?!” Takumi shot back. “Oh well, that’s okay. Come on, Yuu, let’s play!”
“Let’s play!”
“Hey, slow down,” I said. Children sure have a lot of energy.
“Who’s the pretty lady?” Mika asked.
“This is Ayase.”
As soon as I’d spoken, I realized my mistake. Calling her Ayase didn’t explain anything and was likely to confuse them. Ayase still used her old last name for convenience, but she’d been introduced to our relatives as Saki Asamura. Dad’s hometown was still pretty conservative, and a lot of people assumed it was natural for family members to all share a last name.
If I called her Ayase, it might sound like I didn’t see her as a member of the family. In this case, it would be better to introduce her as simply “my sister, Saki.” If I could work up the nerve to say her first name, that is.