With my birthday having passed, I was finally seventeen years old.
Though that didn’t mean anything dramatic was gonna happen. But next year I would turn eighteen, and that meant soon I would have to start behaving and thinking more like an adult.
The vague anxiety of that haunted me, as well as the resolution I’d made the other day—but I also recognized that I shouldn’t get too worked up about all this. Getting excited for the future wasn’t a bad thing, but too much of it would tire me out.
Maybe I was like this because I had told my parents about my birthday resolution.
“Living on your own, huh?” my dad had let out then.
“Yeah. Since I’ll be eighteen next year, I thought it’d be a good time to try,” I’d explained. “What do you think?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” my mom had said.
And just like that, my parents disapproved. I had wondered why, but when I asked, I had to admit that I agreed with them.
“First of all, you want this mainly because of Nanami-san, right? If so, I’m against the idea,” my dad declared.
I had no counterargument to that. My dad was right: Being with Nanami was the reason I decided to try living on my own in the first place.
But just that one reason wasn’t enough to change my mind, so my mom and dad were happy to explain all the other reasons for their disapproval. And, together, all these reasons ultimately brought me to my defeat.
Money problems, school problems, life problems... Once my parents had gotten started, there seemed to be no limit to the problems they had in mind.
Either way, at this point, they were completely against the idea of my living by myself as a high school student. They were open to me doing it once I was in college, but that was under the condition that I was able to keep up with school.
By that point, I would no longer receive an allowance; the idea was that I would cover all my living expenses on my own. They would, however, pay for my tuition. That alone was something I was grateful for.
Regardless, my parents told me that whether I was planning to attend university or a trade school, I needed to decide my path and work hard toward my goal, whatever that was.
At that point, I really had no way of arguing back.
“If you figure things out while you’re at college, that’s fine too. But at the very least, living on your own any sooner will only end badly,” my mom had concluded.
Hearing that was like getting dunked in ice water. But I had to admit, I felt much more levelheaded after that conversation.
I mean, they were absolutely right. Nanami was working hard to become a schoolteacher, and Otofuke-san and Kamoenai-san both had clear dreams that they were pursuing.
I, on the other hand...didn’t have anything.
I didn’t have anything I wanted to do, nor any specific job I wanted to get. Could I even claim, with the way I was now, that I was even going to be an adult next year? True, I had only seriously started considering my adulthood a few days ago, but still.
And just like that, dark clouds had overshadowed the plan I had to live on my own.
But seventeen-year-old me still had to go to school every day. Obviously.
Except everyone else seemed kind of excited, buoyed by fluffy white clouds while I was getting rained on. It made sense, though; winter break was coming up. Christmas was coming up. And this year our break would be fairly long, lasting until the middle of January. People probably couldn’t help feeling distracted. Even I didn’t quite feel grounded with all the festivities coming up.
At lunch break on one such day, as we were eating our bento in the classroom, Nanami and I traded info on our respective families.
“I mean, when you really think about it, your parents are totally right,” Nanami said.
“You too?” I said, sighing. “Though in my head I know you’re right.”
“Even my dad said no when I told him I wanted to live with you next year.”
“Oh, you told Genichiro-san?” I murmured. “Though it’s not like his answer surprises me all that much.”
Parents with daughters had different concerns than parents with sons. In Genichiro-san’s case, his opinion was perfectly reasonable.
Was that what Genichiro-san’s message was about? All it said was, “Yoshin-kun, I trust you, but I think it’s still too early...” I had asked him what he was talking about, but Genichiro-san just skirted the issue. But I understood what he had meant now.
I still wasn’t someone he felt comfortable entrusting his daughter to. And from now on I needed to work hard to become that person.
“What did Tomoko-san say?” I asked.
“She said no because if we did move in together she’d turn into a grandma within a year,” Nanami replied.
“I feel like she’s made that joke before.”
“She was serious, though. She wasn’t even smiling.”
Even Saya-chan, Nanami told me, was against the idea, earnestly saying she didn’t feel ready to be an aunt. And while their reaction disappointed Nanami, I took their comments to mean that I had much to reflect on.
Though what exactly I was supposed to be reflecting on, I wasn’t quite sure.
In a sense, what the Barato family communicated was that they had faith in us—faith that if they let me and Nanami be alone, it would only spell trouble.
If I were in their shoes, I guess I would have the same concerns as well.
“I guess the first step is to show everyone that I can make it, even if I live by myself,” I stated.
“True. Though once we’re in college, things should be better,” Nanami agreed.
Although I hadn’t quite given up, it was looking like it was too early for me to make any big moves. Not to mention that I still had to figure out my dreams for the future too.
“My dreams, huh?” I muttered.
“You don’t have something you want to do?” Nanami asked. “You know, like when you were in elementary school, wasn’t there something you wanted to be when you grew up? Even that’s a good place to start.”
“From when I was little? Hmmm... I can’t remember, honestly.”
I thought I did, but then maybe I also didn’t. Should I go home and flip through some photo albums, try to jog my memory? There had to be something in there. Maybe I could use that as a clue of some sort.
As I groaned and moaned, struggling to come up with something clear to do, Nanami brought her index finger up to her lips and gave an alluring smile, almost as if to seduce me.
“Why not a stay-at-home husband?” she suggested. And like a truly devilish temptation, she added that she was perfectly willing to take care of me.
I wondered what a stay-at-home husband was really like. I might be able to take care of everything around the house once I got used to it, but I had a feeling it was going to be really difficult at first. If I were seriously going to make that my goal, then my housekeeping skills would need dramatic improvement.
“Just greet me when I come home,” Nanami began, “and let me admire your lovely figure, and eat my cooking, and when we sleep, be my body pillow—”
“Wait wait wait, then what in the world am I staying at home to do?” I protested.
What Nanami was describing was a total deadbeat. I would become a no-good loser, with Nanami taking care of every aspect of my life. I just couldn’t let that happen.
But while just the thought of that horrible suggestion made me shiver, Nanami didn’t seem terribly perturbed by it.
“I mean, I don’t think a relationship like that can really last anyway,” she said. “Plus, unless we both work, even if it starts out okay, it’ll probably get super hard later.”
“Oh, yeah, right. I guess you’re just joking,” I replied.
“Yeah, of course. I’m only half joking,” Nanami returned.
“So you’re half serious...”
This is actually scary. She really didn’t sound like she was joking earlier. But she’s right: Unless we both work, it’ll become financially hard in the future. And if we have kids there’ll be a lot of things we’ll need and can’t do without.
With that in mind I turned to Nanami, but it seemed as if she had been thinking the same thing—and we both chuckled.
At least for now, I wasn’t so foolish as to say what was on my mind.
“Thank you for the meal,” I said instead, bringing my palms together. “Today’s bento was delicious, as always.”
“You’re very welcome,” Nanami said, responding with the same gesture.
“The croquettes you make are really different from store-bought ones. The inside is so creamy. It’s almost like a cream croquette, even though it’s potatoes,” I said.
“It’s probably because we mash out all the big pieces. Plus we use a ton of butter. Like, a ton of it.”
“You use that much?” I asked fearfully.
“Yeah, if you actually saw how much we used, you’d be shocked. I use the same amount my mom does because it just tastes so good, but if I stop and think about it, I start asking myself if this much butter for a single dish is really okay...”
Maybe it was similar to when people were surprised by the amount of sugar that was used in cookies and cake. I just never thought I would feel that way about butter, of all things.
But, I see, this was just how Nanami’s family liked to cook. My mom probably had her own special recipes for my family as well. Should I ask her about it sometime?
After eating, we would normally chat about everything and nothing, or we would talk aimlessly about possible weekend plans. Depending on the day, we might move to an empty classroom, or the other girls might whisk Nanami away, leaving me by myself.
Today, though, we had a very specific objective.
“What should we do for Christmas next week?” Nanami asked.
That’s right—we had to decide what to do about Christmas.
Christmas. It was a day for lovers, and one that I used to think had nothing to do with me. Though it was actually a religious holiday that had nothing to do with couples in the first place. And as a kid, I just thought it was a day I got presents.