“Parent-teacher conferences, huh?” Itsuki and Chitose had promised to do some digging on Mahiru in the most casual and roundabout way possible. Meanwhile, a grateful Amane kept working hard at his part-time job while he gradually prepared for Mahiru’s birthday, trying his best not to let her catch on. One day, however, notices were handed out at school, informing the students of an event that they weren’t exactly looking forward to. After the culture festival was over, schedule-verification forms were sent out to parents and guardians to conduct another round of post-graduation surveys. As might have been expected, once November rolled around and exam season grew closer, it was time for the students to coordinate with the school. To accomplish that, the school was setting up meetings with the students and their guardians to once again confirm their desired academic or career path and make sure it aligned with their performance and lifestyle. Quickly skimming over the handout, Amane noted that his interview was one of the first, so he knew he had better tell his mother about it soon. He would have to ask his job for some leeway around the time of the conference, which meant the first thing on his list was figuring out the dates of his mother’s visit. He was grateful that she was willing to come so far, but honestly, he wasn’t excited about it. She’s gonna be over the moon. Amane could easily imagine his mother throwing both hands in the air in triumphant delight once the plans were set. She was always excited to dote on her son—or rather, his girlfriend. “Even worse, mine’s scheduled when my mom’s busy, so I gotta ask my old man. This sucks!” And then there was Itsuki, who was glumly staring at his notice while idly holding it up to the light, as annoyance—or rather, disappointment—began to show on his face for completely different reasons. Amane figured he must have been really upset, because even after homeroom was dismissed, he was still in his seat looking bitter. It was all too easy to read the displeasure in his expression. On the other hand, Amane didn’t feel nearly as negative about the meetings, so all he could do was frown and give a light chuckle. “You really hate the idea of dealing with your dad, huh?” “How else should I feel? I just know he’s going to hound me about my grades and my behavior and try to tell me where to go to college and all that.” The man Amane knew and the man Itsuki knew as his father seemed like totally different people with totally different personalities. Amane had no choice but to accept that Itsuki knew what he was talking about. “Hmm.” Chitose came over to Itsuki’s side, too, looking a little troubled. “I’m planning on having my mom come. She’ll be excited about a chance to dress up.” “My mom’s coming, too… I don’t understand why our parents get so hyped up for these meetings. Some of them seem like they’re putting on battle gear—they get so dressed up.” While loungewear would obviously be too casual for a school meeting, parents tended to wear outfits that conveyed a level of excitement, making things awkward for their children as they walked into school beside unfamiliar-looking parents. Amane’s mother wore formal clothes all the time for her job, so he was more used to it than most, but he still expected her to show up in an even more over-the-top outfit. The thought was already putting him slightly on edge. “They almost treat it like some battle, don’t they? Like their kids are going off to war.” “I guess I can see how exams are battle-like.” “That must be why they want to show off for each other. Don’t they ever consider the fact that their kids might find it uncomfortable for their classmates to see them like that? Don’t they worry that people might talk? You’d think they wouldn’t want their kids to be embarrassed of them.” “Well, I guess I get that, but…my mom gets so worked up.” “Ah-ha-ha, I can kind of imagine it, too.” “Just act normal… That’s all I’m asking for…” Amane’s mother, Shihoko, knew how to dress herself appropriately for every time, place, and occasion. Considering she would get to see Mahiru and be in a meeting at her husband’s alma mater, discussing her son’s future, Amane could only conclude she would be in very high spirits, no matter how he sliced it. Amane was getting a little worn out just imagining it, so he decided to forget about his mother for a while and took a quick peek over at Mahiru’s seat. She wasn’t there. Mahiru had left to run an errand in the library, but Amane was pretty sure their current conversation would have been unsettling for her, so he was also glad she was gone. …I can’t afford to be careless about something like this. He had never heard about Mahiru’s parents showing up to these sorts of things. He imagined that if they did, everyone would stare at them wondering who they were, and word would get around, so he figured that they had never gone to any school functions. It seemed doubtful whether Mahiru even told them about parent-teacher conferences to begin with. Considering how she felt about her parents, and how Mahiru’s parents felt about her, she might very well decide not to give them a single bit of information. It was possible that if she told her father, Asahi, he might come, but Mahiru would certainly try to keep that from happening. Mahiru seemed to consider her father’s meddling as too little too late, and Amane was sure she would choose not to tell him. “Okay, I’m getting depressed imagining my own meeting, too, so let’s stop thinking about it! Instead, oh, honorable sir, I’ve come to ask you about the matter we discussed earlier, heh-heh-heh.” Attempting to lighten the heavy mood, Chitose raised her voice cheerfully, then gradually lowered it with a cunning grin. Amane teased her, “That face, that face!” but internally, he felt relieved they were changing the subject before Mahiru came back. He peered down at the note Chitose was holding in her hand. The school had already surveyed the students about their future plans, and before Amane knew it, the day of his parent-teacher conference had arrived. The conferences were conducted after school hours, so that meant he needed to meet his mother after class, before his designated meeting time. The moment he saw her figure in the distance, standing in the visitors’ entryway, he could tell that she was already pretty worked up. Generally, as long as Shihoko stayed quiet, she came across as a calm, gentle woman. But she had chosen a pantsuit and makeup that looked more professional than maternal. Amane thought she looked ready to go to work but with a bit more polish. She had a crisp smartness to her, and her posture was perfectly straight. She looked so unapproachable, it was hard to imagine she was the same person he knew. Even though she was his mother, she looked impossibly youthful—ageless—standing there as she received furtive glances from students who were still around for club activities or their own meetings, making it extremely difficult for Amane to walk up to her. He couldn’t hesitate too long, though, because his meeting wasn’t something that could be moved around, so he steeled himself and called out to her. “Mom!” Amane’s mother burst into a cheerful smile. “Oh, Amane, it’s been nearly a month, I think! I’m glad to see you seem to be doing well.” When she smiled, her earlier expression, along with the air that had been hanging around her, evaporated, and she was the same old Shihoko he knew so well. Amane suddenly felt exhausted, and his mother must have found his reaction funny, because she made an outrageous comment. “My, my. Are you so happy to see your mother that you’re feeling weak in the knees?” “Don’t be ridiculous,” he answered with a glare. It should have been obvious, but even when she was sharply dressed and ready for action, she hadn’t changed a bit on the inside. Her light, tinkling laughter was like the sound of a tiny jingle bell rolling around, and she set off down the hallway with a relaxed gait. They were still quite early for their scheduled meeting time, and Amane’s mother didn’t seem to have a great grasp on the layout of the school, so the fact that she’d started roaming around meant she wanted Amane to give her a little tour. He let out a sigh and chased after her. “I can’t believe you, Amane. You never call me unless you need me for something. I’m simply beside myself.” “You want me to call you when I don’t need anything…?” “Sure, couldn’t you just call to chat?” “But all you ever want to talk about are really dumb things.” He didn’t necessarily dislike his conversations with his mother, but she was far too energetic, and for every question he answered, she launched into ten more, so keeping up with a discussion usually wore him out. “That’s what chitchatting is, sweetie. What’s important is that we’re communicating.” “Maybe you could tone it down. And stop giving Mahiru photos behind my back.” “Huh?” “Don’t ‘huh’ me.” Even though he had scolded her once before, he knew that his mother was still secretly sending photos to Mahiru like it was no big deal, so he had to flatly shut that down once again. “All right, then we’ll make a new group chat with you, Mahiru, and me, so it won’t be a secret anymore.” “As if I would want that!” “I’m just pulling your leg!” Amane scowled hard. His mother had not, in fact, sounded like she was joking at all. “Come now,” his mother scolded. “If you keep making faces like that, you’ll regret it when you’re nothing but wrinkles in the future.” Amane decided any weird wrinkles on his face would be his mother’s fault. When the scowl finally faded from Amane’s face, his mother asked him frankly, “So tell me, are you working hard in school like you should?” “I’d think you would be able to tell by looking at my report cards.” There was no way she didn’t already know the answer, since Amane didn’t hide anything from his parents and always sent them all his test rankings and any kind of report card. “Well, that may be true, but it’s also a fact that you and your teachers are going to have different perspectives—you see different things. Don’t you think it’s better for me to hear how it’s going from you, directly?” “…I’m trying to do my best, in my own way. At least, I don’t remember slacking off or doing anything to embarrass myself… I don’t think I’ve done anything like that, and I’m putting in the effort to make sure I don’t.” Amane was aware that when he was in his first year of high school, he had worked hard and gotten pretty good grades, but he hadn’t had any particular goals for himself. He’d worked hard because his parents expected him to keep his grades up—that was all. He hadn’t felt any desire to do anything specifically, nor any sense that he should do anything. He had just studied because that’s what students did. It was only when he entered his second year of high school that his awareness changed. Amane had developed an unshakable drive for his future—one where he could stand beside Mahiru and feel proud of himself. It was safe to say that his mindset had changed. But he wasn’t just keeping his grades up without knowing why. The main thing that had changed was that he wanted to work hard for his own sake. His motives and sentiments had become more proactive, and his drive had changed as well, resulting in his current grades being even better than his first year’s. He anticipated that the way things were going, his end-of-year assessments would also be quite good, and that thought encouraged him to keep working. “Yes, well, I know that, but—” “Now, listen…” “Amane, you’re the type of person who always follows through once you make up your mind, aren’t you?” Her direct words, without a hint of doubt, were more than enough to stop Amane in his tracks. He had always been at least a little dissatisfied with his progress. “You are my son, and I’ve gotten to know you pretty well these past seventeen years. You’re incredibly disciplined, and you’ve never gotten a bad result when you’ve tackled your problems. Besides…” “Besides?” “You can’t be half-hearted now that you have Mahiru around, can you? It’s only natural for a boy to try and show off.” His mother gave him a playful, roguish wink, and Amane pressed his lips tightly together and turned away. “That’s obnoxious. Come on, Mom, it’s almost time. Let’s go.” “My, my, I must’ve hit a bull’s-eye!” Although he was annoyed by the unnecessary comment, Amane refused to acknowledge it and picked up the pace, leading the way for his mother, who was still grinning from ear to ear. The parent-teacher conference was originally only scheduled for a short time—about ten or fifteen minutes—but Amane’s meeting wrapped up much quicker than that. Amane’s behavior made him a model student, and there were no issues with his grades. What’s more, his test scores were comfortably within the expected range for the university he wanted to attend. All of which meant the conversation progressed rapidly. He had expected them to take more time and talk things over in more detail. This was, after all, his last parent-teacher conference before he became a third-year student. In other words, his last meeting as a second-year before heading into exams. Yet it turned out to be a brief meeting, just long enough for a check-in with Amane, his homeroom teacher, and his mother, so it was somewhat anticlimactic. Once they had thanked his teacher, left the room, and walked a little way down the hall, Amane’s mother cast off the uptight parental mask she had been wearing and donned her usual easy smile. As his mother, she had probably readied herself for whatever might have come up in the meeting, but she must have been relieved that the teacher’s evaluation had been positive. “Whew, well done. How wonderful to hear your teacher say that you’re doing well. I wasn’t worried about you to begin with, but now that I’ve heard from your teacher again, I know you’re working even harder than I thought, which is delightful news.” “Working hard at my studies was a condition for living alone, after all.” Although Amane was much more motivated in his second year, he’d done well academically in his first year of high school, too. He didn’t think his parents were going to drag him back home at this point, but a promise was a promise, so he figured he shouldn’t give them anything to complain about. “Ah, about that, we thought it would make you focus. I always knew you would work hard even if we kept quiet, though. Amane, you’ve always been so dedicated.” “What do you mean by that?” “Oh, well, you’ve always been an earnest boy, and I suppose it was hard to tell at a glance just how motivated you were about something. Now it’s like you’ve become the sort of person who has the determination to go after what he wants and always has another goal lined up after. Like you’ve powered up. I think it’s a good thing!” “…Thanks for saying so.” “Your grades have improved a lot since your first year. There’s nothing for me to find fault with. It seems like you found some strong motivation.” “I’m not exactly doing it for Mahiru or anything. I’m doing it for myself. Although, it is true that when I look at her, it lights a fire under me. I feel like I need to work hard to keep up.” Amane was willing to admit that he could be a serious person, but compared with Mahiru, there was an almost absurd difference in how disciplined they were. Amane had never seen another person who was so strict with themself, and he knew she exercised an exceptional amount of discipline when it came to developing her abilities, which were just as impressive as they seemed. She had already finished learning almost everything they were expected to learn in high school and had moved on to studying for exams and mastering the fundamentals, which he knew took incredible effort. Mahiru always said, “Putting in effort to make things easier for myself is no hardship,” and the way she quickly dismissed any concerns about it made Amane worry whether she was overdoing it. It was fair to say that as he watched her work so earnestly, he was quite concerned. He hated the idea of giving up and going easy on himself while Mahiru worked so hard beside him, so he naturally got caught up in her way of life, and as part of his self-improvement regimen, he started engaging more seriously in his studies. “I also think it’s wonderful that you both work hard and encourage each other to improve. You two are really an incredible couple, in more ways than one.” “Now, hold on just a second…” “Oh no, don’t glare at me, please! I’m complimenting you! It’s a compliment. If you’re getting on well with sweet Mahiru, then everything is great, isn’t it? What are you so unhappy about?” “I’m unhappy about the way my mother thinks of me and about her meddling in my business.” For his age, Amane was on unusually friendly terms with his mother, but that didn’t mean he had no complaints about her at all. Mom sure does like to ramble. He wasn’t sure whether it was on purpose or spontaneous, or if it was because she was trying to make Mahiru her daughter-in-law by any means possible. No matter which reason was true, or maybe because all of them were, Amane’s mother always went out of her way to tease him about Mahiru, either to urge him on or to light a fire under him. “Well! That’s harsh, just when I was trying to build rapport here.” “Constantly doing things you know I hate isn’t ‘building rapport.’” “Fine, fine, I’m sorry.” Even still, she didn’t seem very remorseful, so after scowling, Amane made a show of sighing and resigned himself to only making her feel slightly guilty. But his mother didn’t seem to feel apologetic. She strode down the hallway with a carefree gait. Head in hand, Amane was following her back the way they had come, when his mother suddenly stopped and looked out the window. When Amane followed suit and stopped beside her, he could hear the shouts of students at club practice—something he had never had much interest in. He heard raised voices shouting directions, yells helping the athletes synchronize, bursts of joy celebrating the teams’ accomplishments, and whistles signaling. Mixed in with all that, he could hear the concert band practicing in some classroom. It almost sounded like the musicians were cheering the athletes on. “It’s so nice to hear the sounds of youth.” His mother smiled peacefully as she gazed out at the small, distant figures of the students, like there was something dazzling about them. “Well, anyway, I guess you’re planning on hunkering down and studying hard as you enter exam season, right?” Amane had just been about to ask if there was something on her mind, when his mother reverted to her usual demeanor and glanced his way with the same look in her eyes as always. He could tell that even if he asked now, she wouldn’t give him an answer. He decided to try and forget her previous expression, which looked like a blend of nostalgia and envy. “…Well, about that,” Amane replied. “A year from now, anyone who wants to get into college will be taking their exams—actually, some will be done with them already—and you can only defer entry for a year, so…” So isn’t working a part-time job risky? The question had occurred to him, but it was a dumb thought, so he had put it aside. He had decided on his own that he could balance both work and school, so he had to, no matter what. “Next year is going to be quite busy for you.” “People’s second and third years of high school usually are. Though I can’t say I’m thrilled about the idea of having such a packed schedule.” “Life sure is tough when you’re saddled with exams.” No one would want to voluntarily cram their whole day with studying. Amane put the effort into his studies because he had to, and because he knew he ought to, for his own sake. Amane was determined to do it all, and he understood that meant a full schedule. “You’re working hard because you’ve already factored all that in, then.” His mother smiled. “Well, make sure to visit home in the winter, okay? You probably won’t have much free time next year with exams.” “…I know that, and yet I get a little bummed out when I think about it.” “Oh-ho, what a sour face. Well, it’s not exactly fun, is it? Exams put me through the wringer, too.” “Were you a good student, Mom?” “Are you asking so you can make fun of me?” “Why would I do that?! I’m just asking about your grades!” At the very least, his mother came across as intelligent. She was knowledgeable about a variety of topics, some obscure, and she was a rational communicator. Amane figured she was a fairly smart person, but he couldn’t imagine what her grades had been like. He knew very well from his seventeen years of living with her that she could hold a grudge if he hurt her feelings, so he was eager to clear up any misunderstanding. His mother gave him a cold, blank stare for a moment, before her displeasure was washed away with a single word. “Honestly…” Then she answered, “Hmm, I wasn’t all that clever—not compared to your father—but if I had to describe my grades… Well, I’d say they were pretty ordinary. I didn’t really have any talents, so I think I was an average student.” “Average, huh…?” “What’s with that incredulous look? Regardless of how I appear, I was a quiet, well-behaved girl, you know!” “Quiet and well-behaved, huh?” Given her buoyant personality, he had to imagine that quiet and well-behaved were not the sort of words anyone else would have used to describe her. “There’s something you’ve been wanting to say for a while—just come on out and say it, Amane.” “There’s nothing I want to say.” “Hmph.” From the way she was glaring at him, he could tell that if he said too much, she would get even angrier, so Amane, who knew how to handle his mother, chose silence. He realized it would be pointless to question her further after she turned away in a huff. “What a troublesome boy,” she grumbled, but Amane completely ignored her. “Anyway, I didn’t have any special talents, and I wasn’t a remarkable student, either. I chose my path, which was fine, but it was a sudden choice, so I didn’t have much time to cram for my exams. Let me tell you, I was quite a sight back then. I don’t think I even looked human.” “What do you mean by that?” “I must have looked like I was on the brink—just really bad shape, you know? Even my friends at the time told me I looked awful. Real ghastly, like something was driving me crazy.” Amane stared at his mother, finding it hard to believe that her friends ever described her as ghastly when she looked as warm and welcoming as she always did. She nodded as she continued and said, “Looking back now, it’s easy to tell that I wasn’t very good at planning ahead.” The way children typically saw their mother was quite different from the way their mother was seen by others. No matter how hard he tried, Amane couldn’t even begin imagining his mother looking that haggard. As he stared at her, his mother smiled, cheerful and sunny, and shrugged. “Well, unlike me, you’re the type who always does everything necessary to prepare ahead of time, and you’re always serious and diligent about laying the groundwork for what you want to do, so I’m not very worried. I don’t think you’ll miss your mark, and I know you’ll keep your strengths in mind when you make your choices.” “Yeah, of course.” “And have you decided what your strategy will be for exams?” “Definitely. I’m taking the exams required by the school I want to attend.” “Sure, and any school is fine, as long as you want to go there, Amane. It’s only natural that your parents are curious, though. There’s nothing we can do if you don’t want to talk to us about it, but if you’ve got a good goal in mind, we’d be able to support you better if you sat down and talked to us face-to-face, you know?” She spoke in a gentle, amiable voice that was tender and free of judgment. Amane felt a pang of guilt in his chest, telling him that he had been extremely ungrateful. It should have gone without saying that his mother wasn’t criticizing him, and as her son, he understood that her words came from a place of parental concern. So as hesitant as he was, Amane knew he ought to lay out his feelings on the matter, and he slowly lowered his eyes. “…Honestly, as long as I can work a fulfilling job that lets me live a decent life with Mahiru and still have plenty of free time, I couldn’t ask for anything more.” He had consulted with his parents, but Amane had chosen his university and major on his own. Though he wasn’t so rigid as to say that was the only school he was willing to consider. “I’ve chosen a school and a major that, considering my abilities, seem likely to give me the greatest advantage in finding a job, rather than picking something because it’s what I really want. Of course from the start, I tried to choose something that was at least a little interesting.” Amane had chosen a school that offered a program in the field he wanted to study, one where he expected he would be able to get passing grades—considering his academic abilities and how much work he was able to do—and where he thought there were some advantages when it came to finding a good job. Compared to other students, who had a clear idea of what they wanted to study at university and of the sort of job they eventually wanted to find, Amane’s approach did seem a little irresponsible. He was self-conscious about that fact, which was one reason he hadn’t been very eager to talk about it. He was prepared to take the entrance exams and for all the hard work it would require. He felt like he had been doing his best to avoid embarrassment. But whenever someone asked him what he wanted to do in the future, his confidence deflated. “First of all, I want to be able to live comfortably on my own. Second is the matter of having enough free time. My last concern is whether I like my job. Anyway, being able to live a healthy, balanced life is my only real condition. That means college is the place I’ll go to study in my chosen field, but I’m not passionate enough to choose a school based on that alone. I mean…I guess when I’m thinking about it, those things are what I prioritize.” Amane was determined to pass his entrance exams, but as far as an idea of what came after, or any real passion for what he wanted to learn, he was at a loss. He was determined but not enthusiastic. All he could do was groan internally at the frustrating contradiction. His mother didn’t seem angry or sad; she just looked into Amane’s eyes like she understood what he was going through. “So you’re not sure whether you have a dream, huh? That pragmaticism is very like you, Amane.” “I don’t know if it’s pragmatic or if I’m just listing off conditions because I can’t make up my mind.” Comparing universities and choosing one based on the profession he wanted to pursue didn’t seem like something he felt capable of at the moment. “I really envy people who’ve made a clear decision about what they want to do. When I decided to attend Dad’s old high school, it was because I wanted to live a quiet life in a place far away from home. I’m glad I’ve gotten used to things here and managed to build a place for myself, but…in the end, I don’t really have any vision for what kind of person I want to become or what kinds of things I want to do.” “Well, I don’t really have room to talk since I went to art school with an awful lot of energy and enthusiasm, but I can say this: Amane, you have to choose something you won’t regret. This is your life, after all.” “I know. This is one of those important life decisions.” Amane knew all too well that the things he did during his student days would, to a certain extent, lay the foundation for the rest of his life. That was exactly why he found himself dragging his feet. At times like these, Amane’s parents respected his autonomy, so the decision was entirely his to make, which made him anxious. Compared to other students, whose parents made the decisions about their future or who were forced to give up on continuing education because of financial issues, Amane’s problem was not a bad one to have. However, it was precisely because he had so much freedom that he felt the heavy burden of responsibility. If he made his own choices, it would be his own fault if he crashed and burned. “We’re only going to meddle until you’re independent, and from then on, the two of you can live your lives, okay? You’re laying out your own path, Amane, so you should take your time and seriously consider the options.” “I know.” “Now, your idea of what you want to become or what you want to do might change completely, but you need to equip yourself with enough skills and knowledge so you won’t have any difficulty choosing a new path if one presents itself. Giving yourself all the tools necessary to succeed should be your priority while you’re still a student. Even if you try to expand your toolbox later, you won’t often have enough time or money to spare, so lean on your parents while you still can.” “…Okay.” “Relax. Despite how it may seem, your father and I have plenty saved up, just the two of us. We’ve stockpiled a lot so that you can go off into the world without any trouble. You can rely on us as much as you’d like.” Amane’s mother had always respected his freedom, believed in his success, and offered her support when he needed it. Now she was probably just giving him a push because she understood that he was conflicted. It made him realize that even though he had been thinking of his mother as someone who normally gave him trouble at times like these, she could actually be incredibly supportive, and he felt a warmth gradually suffusing his chest. Whether she realized just how grateful Amane was or not, his mother kept smiling, as she always did, and she spoke with pride and confidence. “Heh-heh, I know you’re set on doing your best all by yourself, Amane, but please, depend on us just a little. Ah—I’m maybe not the best person to help with your studies, though. Please go to your father for that, okay?” “How very like you to admit that.” “Finding the right person for the job is always important.” “You said it yourself—you don’t have any confidence when it comes to studying.” “And did you have something to say about that?” “…Not a thing.” “Honestly… Oh, on the other hand, you can come ask me anything about fashion, you know. Your mother will pull out all the stops for you, Amane!” “I’ll pass, thanks.” “Amane!” Whack! He felt the impact on his back and heard the heavy sound, but it didn’t hurt. Rather, it was a literal push on the back to dispel the timidness and anxiety that had been clogging him up deep inside, and before he knew it, Amane started to feel a breeze blowing through him, clearing out the stagnant feelings that had settled in the bottom of his heart. Amane, who managed to feel a bit astonished at his naïveté despite being shamelessly self-aware, was taken in by his mother’s good humor, and a small smile crept onto his face. “Aaanyway, let’s go over and see sweet Mahiru, shall we? Is her conference today, too?” “Mahiru’s is tomorrow.” His mother hadn’t meant anything by asking, but Amane couldn’t say anything further on the matter. Amane knew that what was supposed to be a parent-teacher conference was just going to be a one-on-one meeting, so it seemed that bringing it up would only be hurtful for Mahiru. Amane’s mother had some idea of Mahiru’s situation, too, which was probably why she didn’t say what Amane was worried about out loud, and just looked disappointed. “Oh, is that so? I thought that if your conferences were on the same day, we could go shopping together on the way home. Well, I guess I’ll say hello to her at home. Even though I just saw her, it somehow feels like it’s been ages.” “Please do. Mahiru will be happy to see you.” “Oh-ho-ho, you’re not going to stop us from meeting?” “It would be pointless even if I did. You’re both always so happy to see each other—why should I try?” Mahiru adored Amane’s mother and would be thrilled to see her, so Amane was willing to accept the risk that his mother would fill Mahiru’s head with all kinds of unnecessary ideas. Mahiru naturally wanted to be fawned over, but she only allowed her boyfriend and his mother, whom she adored like her own parent, to treat her that way. Amane certainly wasn’t going to prevent her from being reunited with someone she liked so much. That didn’t change the fact that he was concerned about his mother telling Mahiru stories she didn’t need to hear, so it was nonnegotiable that he would stand by and watch over them. Sometimes, she takes advantage of Mahiru’s innocence to give her weird ideas, after all. Without his father to counterbalance her, Amane’s mother got carried away—or rather, she got way too excited—and told Mahiru things she didn’t need to know yet or stories about Amane she didn’t need to hear. He wasn’t ready to trust her on that front. “You’ve gotten much more lenient.” “If I could get you to chill out, I’m confident I could be even more lenient.” “How mean to say I’m not chill! Ha-ha!” “I’m begging you to keep your voice down and to tone down the gestures a little. We can talk about that later.” Amane’s mother spoke and acted like a much younger person when dealing with her son. He would have been able to respect her more if she toned that down, but he knew he couldn’t say that out loud. Amane’s mother shrugged. Her expression said she thought her son was wound too tightly. “…I wonder when you lost your cuteness?” “I never had any to begin with, so say what you like.” “See, that’s what I’m talking about… Oh!” “Huh?” Amane’s mother noticed first. She blinked repeatedly in surprise as she gazed down the hallway, and when Amane followed suit and turned his head, he saw two familiar figures. One of them was Itsuki. His buttons were done up properly—all the way up to his collar, for once—and Amane could clearly see he was in a foul mood. The other person was someone he hadn’t seen since the culture festival, dressed to absolute perfection in a sharp, stylish suit. He was looking at Itsuki pointedly, without a trace of tenderness. It was only when he realized that Amane and his mother were standing there that Itsuki’s father, Daiki, let some warmth settle into his eyes, and he gently smiled. “Hello, Daiki sir. I haven’t seen you since the culture festival.” “Ah, Fujimiya. And your mother, too. Hello there. Glad to see you’re keeping well.” Amane wasn’t sure whether it was all right for him to poke fun at Itsuki for the way he scoffed dismissively when his father smiled at them in a way he never smiled at his own son. At any rate, he could be certain that Itsuki was in an extremely bad mood. Amane knew Itsuki and his father had never seen eye to eye, and he’d heard directly from Itsuki about his family situation. Amane understood that Itsuki and his father were at odds, but today, the sparks really seemed to be flying. …They must have had an argument before coming here. Things had already been rough for Itsuki when the parent-teacher conferences were announced, and Amane figured they couldn’t get any worse. But when he peered at Itsuki, gloomy and irritable, he seemed to notice Amane’s eyes on him and turned to look out the window somewhat awkwardly. “Thank you for always looking after my son.” “I could say the same thing… Amane really trusts Itsuki and always relies on him.” Amane’s mother must have picked up on the fact that Itsuki and his father were at each other’s throats, but she continued with the same unchanging smile on her face. Whenever this happened, it was usually extremely awkward for kids to have to listen to their parents chat, but Amane was hopeful that if his mother could at least distract Itsuki’s father for a while, it might give Itsuki a chance to relax, even just a little. “You know, we talk about your son often.” “Hey, Mom—” Amane was hoping his mother would be a distraction, not for her to reveal something like that when Itsuki himself was standing right there. “What’s the matter?” Amane’s mother feigned ignorance. She seemed truly confused, and Amane was reminded yet again just how cunning she could be. In all likelihood, she had said it on purpose to lighten the heavy mood. Amane felt like he had suddenly been struck from behind and raised his eyebrows dramatically. “Mom, listen—” “Oh, am I wrong?” “You’re not wrong, but—!” “Your father and I can tell that you really trust and depend on Itsuki.” “Yeah, but who says that right in front of the person they’re talking about?!” “If I don’t say it, he won’t hear it, Amane.” “I tell him all the time!” “Oh, is that true, Itsuki?” With a wide, innocent grin, Amane’s mother roped Itsuki into the conversation, and Itsuki, who up until that point had remained silent, responded somewhat suspiciously, awkwardly scratching his cheek and nodding. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I mean, he does sometimes catch me by surprise.” “Oh-ho-ho, sounds like Amane has gotten considerably more honest.” Her voice was pleasant and high-pitched but lost none of its elegance as she laughed. Then she smiled gently at Itsuki’s father, who had been silently watching their exchange. “As I was saying, truly, thank you for everything. My boy isn’t very up-front about his feelings, so it’s a great help for him to have Itsuki around.” “…Seems that way.” When Daiki agreed with Amane’s mother in a somewhat stiff, detached tone, rather than smirking at his father, Itsuki frowned in surprise. His father must have noticed, because his almond-shaped eyes grew slightly sharper. “Looks like you have something to say, Itsuki.” “Not at all.” No matter what, Itsuki seemed to refuse to relax his stubborn attitude, and his father sighed heavily, then pointed down the hall toward where Amane and his mother had been standing earlier. “…I’m going to step away for a minute, so make sure you come to the meeting room before it’s time.” “I know. Hurry up and go already.” Itsuki’s curtness surprised even Amane, and Amane was one of the most reserved people there was. In fact, Itsuki seemed almost aggressive, like he was completely unwilling to cooperate with his father. Even knowing about their situation, Amane still felt a chill. Daiki sighed again, deeply, and seemed to accept his son’s defiant attitude. Maybe he didn’t feel up to challenging Itsuki’s attitude again, or maybe he didn’t want to strictly scold his son in front of other people. Either way, he didn’t say anything more and quietly slipped past Amane and his mother. Although Itsuki’s father was always polite when he was dealing with Amane and his parents, the tension between Daiki and Itsuki was undeniable. Once Amane heard Daiki’s footsteps receding in the distance, he let out a heavy sigh. Amane, of course, wasn’t used to this kind of quarrelsome atmosphere, and as someone who was on Itsuki’s side come hell or high water, Daiki’s attitude made him incredibly uncomfortable. Itsuki must have felt the same way, because his father’s departure caused the tension to soften palpably, and his expression softened as well. Amane looked at him as empathetically as possible. “Yours is today, too, huh? I completely forgot.” “You’re already done with yours?” “Yeah. It was over quickly.” “Oh yeah? Our time slot is the one after next.” Their conversation was more matter-of-fact than usual, maybe because the earlier interaction was weighing on them. Although Itsuki had mellowed out considerably, Amane could still catch glimpses of the sharp pain still stabbing at him. Itsuki himself must have been aware of his demeanor, because he lowered his gaze to the floor, a little uncomfortable. Even though he was managing to keep the irritation on his face in check, he didn’t seem to be able to fully contain the turmoil in his heart. His eyes darted back and forth as he avoided Amane’s eyes. “I don’t think there’s any point to these meetings, though. There’s never much to talk about, and I don’t know if they want to hear what I have to say in the first place.” “What are you planning to do after graduation, Itsuki?” Amane probably should have asked that earlier as one of Itsuki’s best friends, but given the situation with his father, it was difficult to bring it up. Amane wasn’t sure it was all right to ask him just then, but once the question was asked, there was no taking it back. “I’ve made up my mind, but whether my dad will accept it is a different story. He has his own expectations for where he wants me to go.” “And your mom?” “She generally thinks that I should do what I want.” Once the conversation turned to his mother, Itsuki quickly shrugged, letting a hint of surprise show. The sharp attitude that had been keeping everyone at arm’s length softened a bit more. Amane didn’t have much to say about Itsuki’s mother—he had never actually met the woman—but she seemed to have a laissez-faire attitude that came through when Itsuki talked about her. Itsuki had certainly been the biggest beneficiary of her lax approach. “That sounds like quite a contrast…” “Well, it’s not like she’s indifferent—she’s being practical. She knows there’s no way they can expect me to listen to every single thing they say, and trying to control me will just make me want to rebel, so it’s better to just let me do my own thing from the start.” “She knows you very well, Itsuki.” Itsuki’s mother’s accurate evaluation of her son made Amane laugh, as he watched the situation play out exactly as Itsuki had described. He did think Itsuki’s way of phrasing things was a tad harsh, considering he was talking about his own mother. It was also clear that her relentlessly tolerant stance, which showed how well she understood her child, was a real lifesaver for Itsuki. That much was evident, based on how Itsuki had calmed down the moment the conversation turned to her. “It’s only my old man who hasn’t given up yet. I understand his reasoning and his feelings, but I can’t stand it when he forces things on me.” “Mm.” “Sure, it’s true that he’s the one paying for my school expenses, but man…I really hate that he uses it to completely overrule my wishes. Things like that are what make me want to fly the coop, seriously!” “I don’t think your father would take things that far.” Itsuki’s father had spoken with Amane about it when Itsuki wasn’t around, and Amane was convinced that Daiki wasn’t just forcing his wishes on Itsuki and ignoring what his son wanted. As an onlooker, it was frustrating. He knew that from Itsuki’s perspective, his father’s actions certainly seemed oppressive. For better or for worse, Daiki was stubborn, and he was the type of person who was difficult to understand on the surface. Though he did seem to cause a lot of unnecessary friction with Itsuki. “Hah, I wonder? Things are pretty calm right now, but I never know what that guy’s gonna say next. Does he even know they completely failed my brother with all their meddling? I’m not my father’s second chance at life, and I’m no copy of my big brother, either!” Itsuki’s voice was cold and full of pain, like he was spitting up blood. There was an overtone of rejection there as well. He sounded like he wouldn’t allow any more comfort or sympathy from Amane. Amane’s parents let him do as he pleased and were open and forthcoming with affection, and his appreciation for that fact allowed him to understand that if he said anything more, it would only hurt Itsuki, whose family dynamic stood in stark contrast. It seemed like Itsuki had vented some of the pent-up feelings that had been building inside him. Amane wasn’t sure how his friend was interpreting his expression as Itsuki’s gaze awkwardly traced the floor. “…Sorry.” “No, you have nothing to apologize for. You’re the one going through it… I can’t force you to do anything, but I think you should go have a real conversation with him.” “…I know.” No matter what path he stumbled down in life, Itsuki must have known that if he didn’t talk it out with his father, they would never be able to move forward. Itsuki nodded hesitantly, then left to head after his father. Certainly, there were people in the world who couldn’t see eye to eye, even after trying their best to communicate. Daiki might not have thought so, but Itsuki believed his father was someone who would never understand him. There was a good possibility they would remain at arm’s reach forever. When that happened, Amane would stick by Itsuki’s side. He was still a minor, so there wasn’t a ton he could do to help, but he intended to do anything he could to help his friend. He was prepared if it came to that, but still, even if Itsuki and his father could never agree, Amane hoped they could at least express their feelings. Amane wasn’t going to meddle in another person’s family business, but he couldn’t help wishing for that. Amane’s mother, acting less overbearing than usual, had backed off a bit to let the two friends talk. She watched Itsuki as he ran off, before muttering, “It sounds like Itsuki’s really having a hard time.” “Yeah, he is.” “As a parent myself, I can’t say I don’t understand wanting your child to follow the path you think is best. If your kid wants to pursue something that has nothing to do with your own career, it’s hard to not let the disapproval show. You want your child to walk a path that has as little hardship as possible.” With her own perspective, Amane’s mother was looking at Daiki and Itsuki’s parent-child relationship pragmatically. She sighed softly and shrugged. “Raising a child is hard, you know. I’ve learned that children need to live a child’s life, and when parents meddle too much, it doesn’t allow them to cultivate a spirit of self-reliance, so it’s best to give them room to breathe. Just pulling them back to safety when they’re about to walk down a dangerous road is enough.” “You’re very rational about things like that, Mom.” “Well, no matter how you cut it, excessive meddling does the child no favors.” His mother seemed completely confident in her blunt assertion. “Putting unnecessary limitations on a child is something parents do to satisfy themselves. They only justify it by saying it’s in their child’s best interest. They want that kid to act the way they want, so for their own convenience, they restrict the scope of their life. I hate that kind of parenting.” Shihoko had always doted on Amane and looked after him, but she had never compelled him to do one thing or another. She had always respected Amane’s autonomy and had shown him a variety of paths. Amane’s mother had never pulled him along by the hand. Rather, she had always watched over him from behind. When she saw danger up ahead, she grabbed him by the shoulders and stopped him, but after that, she stood by quietly and waited to see which path her son would take, no matter how he struggled. Precisely because he had experienced that, Amane knew his mother was unwavering in her method of parenting. “Kids need to be able to make their own decisions when they’re out on their own. If parents ignore that and keep their kids tied to them, it’ll cause trouble for everyone in the future. Losing a parent is torturous. It’s like losing a leg. You forget how to even stand. And that’s not the only thing that breaks down, you know.” His mother smiled bitterly. She had casually but ruthlessly dismissed that approach to child-rearing, declaring it had nothing to do with a child’s well-being, no matter what anyone said. Amane wasn’t sure what she thought of his expression. “Though I get the feeling Itsuki’s father is acting out of clumsiness rather than that kind of attachment and restraint. I don’t sense any malice in him. That said, it’s not like he’s unaware that he’s being strict. I’m not picking up on any feelings of guilt toward Itsuki—he probably can’t take back the stubborn things he says once he says them. He reminds me of my own father.” The mention of someone completely unexpected made Amane tilt his head curiously. As far as Amane could remember, his mother’s father—in other words, his grandfather—was a good-natured old man who loved to chat and was always smiling softly. He didn’t seem anything like the person his mother had just described. Amane’s mother must have picked up on that doubt. “That man was only sweet to his grandson; otherwise, he was a stubborn man who was awful at communicating.” She laughed like it was very funny. Apparently, Amane’s grandfather had been even fonder of him than he had imagined. His mother’s shoulders shook with mirth, and Amane felt bewildered by the fact that he was just learning this for the first time as he approached his eighteenth year. Then she nodded in apparent satisfaction and glanced down the hallway where Itsuki and his father had gone. “Once someone has a firm grasp on logic and common sense, everything after that is up to their own nature and thinking. On the other hand, you do have to teach them enough so they can wipe their own behind as an adult.” “I’ll bear that in mind.” “Heh-heh, I’m not worried about you at all, Amane. You are your parents’ son, after all.” “Well, I’m pretty confident that my way of thinking resembles Dad’s, to some degree, but…” “The fact that you’re not giving me any credit makes me feel like I’ve still got more to teach you.” “I was just kidding. Give it a rest, please.” Amane groaned as his mother taught him a lesson about letting his mouth run, and the very person who had launched the attack patted him on the back as she laughed in amusement.
Chapter 195
45 min read