They touched their cheeks together, then hugged each other tightly. For a moment, the image before me didn’t seem real. It felt like I was watching a foreign movie. Maybe because of their pale skin and hair and their pretty features, Mika and Takumi looked like two angels in a religious painting.
They giggled and clung to each other. Apparently, Aunt Kanae’s husband was a quarter foreign, and the kids had always looked a bit otherworldly.
Then, as I was lost in thought, something extraordinary happened.
I was sitting there, smiling and watching the adorable scene, when Mika turned and kissed Takumi on the cheek.
“Like that. See? Now you guys do it,” Mika said, still cheek to cheek with her brother.
Ayase and I froze. Is that really how two siblings make up with each other?
The two giggling angels stared at us. The look on their faces said, “Well? It’s your turn.”
Come on. I know you two are close, but kissing?! Surely not. Right?
“Aren’t you going to make up?” asked Mika.
“Oh, um, we don’t need to. We get along great.”
Ayase nodded. “Uh-huh…”
“Ayase?”
I got the feeling she was acting a little strange.
“Hey, kids! It’s time for dinner!”
A voice from down the hall brought me back to my senses.
I exhaled and put my hands down behind my back. They slipped on the tatami floor, and I panicked. Woven tatami feels coarse, but depending on the direction of the grain, it can be quite slippery.
Takumi and Mika were already out the door by the time they let each other go. They ran down the hallway, shouting, “Dinner!”
“Shall we go?” asked Ayase.
“Yeah.”
The two of us walked slowly, as if we’d just awakened from a dream.
My heart was still thumping loudly. I hoped it would settle down before we reached others.
My relatives were already gathered in a spacious room resembling a banquet hall.
It was fifteen tatami mats, or about twenty-five square meters wide, with three low tables pushed together in the center.
Large platters of food were placed on the tables. It appeared that we were having sukiyaki. There were iron pans set on three tabletop gas stoves, and the broth was already simmering.
There were a lot of vegetables, including lotus root, burdock, shiitake mushrooms, shimeji mushrooms, green onions, and edible chrysanthemum. The meat was chicken. Most people probably think of beef at the mention of sukiyaki, but for some reason, my family always uses chicken. Maybe it’s because chicken is cheap, or maybe it’s just tradition. Either way, I like chicken, so I don’t mind.
There was also an array of osechi ryori, or traditional Japanese New Year’s food, packed neatly in stacked, partitioned boxes called jubako.
All these dishes were homemade, which was pretty rare these days. Most people simply ordered them premade and ready to eat.
I could see sweet rolled omelets, candied chestnuts with sweet potatoes, sweet black soybeans, herring roe, fish cake, and kelp. A lot of Japanese food tended to be brown, but the red and white fish cake, the red prawns, and the yellow eggs and chestnuts added color to the food.
The sweet rolled omelets were my favorite, and I remembered being scolded for eating only those when I was growing up. The rest of the food wasn’t very appealing to children, but I’d started appreciating everything else once I entered high school. Tastes change as you grow, after all.
My relatives were already sitting around the tables. The beer was flowing, and Dad was drinking and chatting away.
When we arrived, my grandmother and Akiko brought bottled tea and homemade barley tea from the kitchen for the kids.
We began eating once everyone was seated.
Three generations of my family lived in this house together: my grandparents, their eldest son (Dad’s older brother) and his wife, and their son (Kousuke). Dad lived in Tokyo, and his younger sister and her husband lived in Chiba. But today, all twelve of them were gathered together—fourteen if you counted Ayase and me. From my perspective, it wasn’t an unusual scene, but Ayase looked a little taken aback when we opened the sliding door.
Once seated, we had a toast and began eating. After a while, Dad introduced Akiko and Ayase to the rest of the family.
Next to Dad, Akiko stood up and said simply, “Pleased to meet you all.” But Ayase, on her other side, was meeting everyone for the first time and had to give a longer introduction. The others were eager to know how old she was and what she was doing at school.
In Tokyo, it’s pretty rare for anyone to ask more than your name when you first meet, even if you’re related. However, out here, people were still pretty traditional.
Eventually, Grandmother said, “Okay, that’s enough for now. Let the girl sit and eat,” and Ayase was finally able to sit back down. She looked relieved.
It was Kousuke’s turn next. He stood up and introduced Nagisa. Then it was her turn to be bombarded with questions.
I poured tea into Ayase’s cup and whispered, “Good job.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you want some osechi? I’ll get it for you.”
“Okay, let’s see. I’ll have a piece of sweet rolled omelet. It looks good, and those are my favorite. Oh…? Did I say something funny?”
“No, no. They’re my favorite, too.”
I used the serving chopsticks to grab an omelet and set it on her plate.
She took a small bite. “So this is the flavor of Dad’s family’s cooking. That’s why Mom always… I see.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but Ayase looked satisfied with her deduction.
We ate in silence for a while, listening to the others talk but not really paying attention.
Kousuke went to college in Saitama, then returned to Nagano. That meant he and Nagisa had been in a long-distance relationship after graduation.
I heard someone say, “I wondered what you were doing driving off every weekend. And look now, you’ve got a beautiful wife!”
“I got nervous when we stopped seeing each other in person,” Nagisa said. “Even though we can chat over the internet every day.”
Kousuke nodded. He said that was why they’d filed the paperwork once he learned he was being sent abroad.
As I listened, I wondered what I would have done in his shoes. If I knew I wouldn’t be able to see Ayase anymore…
“Well, Kousuke’s always been the type to get lonely,” said Uncle Kouta. “When he was a child, he hated having to stay at home by himself and tried to tag along wherever I went.”
“Stop it, Dad,” Kousuke said, but his embarrassment seemed to amuse my uncle, and he started telling all sorts of stories about Kousuke’s childhood, including all his likes and dislikes. Kousuke grimaced, but Nagisa pricked up her ears.
From what was said, it seemed Nagisa had been living here with Kousuke since the summer, when he was first offered the overseas posting. I still wasn’t sure what Nagisa was doing for work. If she’d already found a job in Nagano, what would she do when she had to leave with Kousuke?