“Wait. For real? In that case, you can have two of these, as a treat.” She set two brown konpeito candies side by side.
That’s it? Well, better than nothing. I reached over and picked them up.
“Come on. I’m just messing with you,” Hino added, handing me the entire tin. “Have as many as you want.”
“Aw, thanks.” I put just one in my mouth to start—and found myself mildly surprised. “Wow. These are good.”
The quality was far beyond any candy I was used to, and from the refreshing aftertaste, I suspected they were super expensive. I’d hate for Yashiro to find out about these.
“I think Nagafuji had the same reaction. It was a while back.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I joked, and Hino flashed her pearly whites.
We sat there in silence for a while, just drinking tea and gazing out at the garden scenery. I considered starting a conversation on a new topic, but in truth, my heart was at peace merely floating adrift in the serenity. Likewise, Hino sipped her tea at an elegant pace, as if searching for something more on the liquid’s surface. Unlike mine, her every motion was perfectly practiced. We were no longer in high school, but it was still readily apparent just how differently our parents must’ve raised us.
So there I was, drunk on the thrill of munching on fancy konpeito and washing them down with fancy tea. When our cups finally ran dry, Hino rose to her feet.
“Tell me, dear Shima-san, are you better at shogi or go?”
“I’m clueless about go, but I do know how to play shogi.”
As a kid, I’d played it out in the countryside with my grandpa, who’d always taken great pleasure in his landslide victories against me. Then he’d pat me on the head and tell me that I’d beat him one day.
Back in those days, it was me, my grandpa, and…
“……”
And now I was twenty, and I still hadn’t beaten him.
“Shogi it is.”
Hino walked to the corner of the room and retrieved a weathered yet well-built shogi board. I was no expert on antiques, granted, but I suspected it too was expensive. I ran a finger along the wood’s smooth surface. Why did everything in Hino’s house feel so good? Was “refined” the word I was looking for?
“I’m honestly way better at Othello,” Hino remarked.
“Shouldn’t we play that instead, then?”
“Ha! A worthy battle can only be fought on even ground.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“That was my Nagafuji impression.”
After lobbing a potshot at our absent friend, Hino started lining up the pieces. To be fair, that had sounded like something Nagafuji would say.
Was I capable of doing an Adachi impression? Maybe not. Imitating all that energy would take a lot of effort.
I’d always liked the clacking sound the pieces made against the wood. For some reason, it reminded me of nail clippers. I briefly considered voicing that observation to Hino. I’d mentioned it to my grandfather once, but he’d just laughed at me.
“So what have you been up to, Hino?” I ventured instead, my gaze wandering along the tidy row of pawns.
“Me? I haven’t been doing anything,” she replied, taking one piece and moving it forward a space. Then she hunched forward, setting her chin in her palm. “Since we graduated, my life’s been a whole lotta nothing. Just fishing, walking, hanging out with Nagafuji… That’s about it.”
“Lucky you.”
“That’s a modern rich girl for ya. Don’t have to work to keep a roof over my head.” She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “How’s college, Shimama-chan?”
I couldn’t help noticing that the “ma” count had gone back up to two, but I didn’t mind. “Mmm, not bad. So far, at least.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She made each of her moves without much pause. As for me, I had a decent grasp of the rules, but I hadn’t studied the game, so I didn’t know any specific strategies to employ. Thus, I moved my pieces basically at random.
“How’s Ada-cheechee?”
“She’s…ehh…she’s good.”
“Fortuitous tidings indeed.”
“Why ask me, though?”
“Because it’s easier,” she answered matter-of-factly, squinting down at the shogi board.
“I guess so…” I hadn’t told her much about Adachi, but maybe she sensed our connection somehow. Still, she didn’t outright ask me about it—proof, perhaps, of a good friendship. “So you guys don’t have any pets?” I asked, flicking my gaze out at the yard.
“Huh? I mean, we’ve had some animals move into our pond, but they’re not pets.”
She said it so casually—like a house having its own pond was the most normal thing in the world. The only thing that had moved into my place was a blue-haired alien… On second thought, maybe I had no room to criticize.
“Given how much my family loves to travel, pets would complicate things.”
“Gotcha.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering.” I slid my rook far across the board. After a moment of contemplation, Hino moved one of her pieces toward it. Now my poor rook was all alone and in trouble. “Oops.”
“You’re not thinking this through, are you?”
Smiling, I scratched my head sheepishly. Guilty as charged.
From there, we played two rounds, both of which I lost. Right around the time we were considering a possible third, however…
“That reminds me—didn’t you say it was your birthday?”
“Yeah.”
“Hold on a sec.”
Rising to her feet, Hino walked away from our game and left the room. Taking the hint, I sat up straight as I waited for her. Sure enough, she returned with what was ostensibly a birthday present.
“You really didn’t have to…”
“Of course I did. Gifts are important, you know! Lemme think of a way to explain it…”
“Okay.”
Folding her arms, Hino murmured under her breath, shooting glances out at the courtyard beyond the lattice door. “A is for ‘awesome,’ B is for ‘bestie’…”
“What is this, kindergarten?”
“That was a joke!” Popping her thumb joint, Hino stared out at the garden. “Take the wind, for instance. We can’t see it directly, but when we notice the plants sway, we know it’s there.”
“Yeah…?” I followed her line of sight toward where the gentle breeze trailed through the carefully manicured plants.
“Well, maybe gifts are like that too. They’re side effects of the invisible human heart.” Grinning, she dropped her arms to her sides, then leaned forward and repeated, “The invisible human heart.”
“Oooh. Very cool,” I murmured, applauding her effort.
“I know, right?” Pleased with herself, she sat back down.
“Say that again.”
Handing over my present, she chuckled softly. “Don’t be stupid. You already know I’ve forgotten it by now.”
Yeah, figured as much.
Still, that breezy exchange was enough to stir the greenery in my chest.