AFTER dinner and the subsequent cleanup, Ayako and I retired to the living room, where she selected a record to play, while Towada busied himself in the kitchen preparing tea. The melody and voice that flowed from the speaker was unmistakably familiar.
“Is that Yves Montand?” I asked.
“Why yes, it is!” Ayako confirmed with delight. “I’m impressed you know him at your age.”
“My dad’s a fan. He plays him in the car all the time.”
“Is that so? Kaoru left behind quite a lot of records, as you can see.” Her gaze shifted to me. “But more importantly, are you comfortable over there, Haruka? You seem…rather popular.”
More accurately, her eyes weren’t on me but rather the army of oaties currently encircling me, scrambling across my knees, and eyeing my cookie tin with obvious longing. “I’m fine, just, um… Guys, give me a second, okay? I’ll open the tin, but line up first. Wait, just how many of you are there today?!”
They were at my feet, on my lap, and crawling all over my shoulders. There were far more than the number I encountered during my first visit.
“Just how much do you guys like Haruka’s baking?” Ayako asked the crowd.
I loosed a wry chuckle. “I’m glad, but you have Ayako, you guys!”
I’d brought two types of cookies for the day’s visit: spiced ginger, and chocolate and butter checkerboard. With school on a half-day schedule leading up to New Year’s, I’d been able to bake in small batches, accumulating a fair bit of stock over time. But that stockpile wouldn’t amount to anything if I couldn’t move my arms to open the tin!
Just as I was on the brink of surrender, Towada returned from the kitchen. “Shoo, shoo. She can’t really hand out treats if you’re all swarming her, now can she?”
That seemed to do the trick, for the sea of oaties receded slightly. Phew, I can finally lift my arms. Twinkling sparkles flew from their little mouths; I still couldn’t understand them but liked to imagine they were telling me to hurry. All right, I’m on it, just a little longer!
“Thanks for your patience, here you all go—wah!” As I removed the lid, a surge of tiny paws shot toward me. Before I could react, my tin, previously crammed full of cookies, was empty.
“They really are shameless,” Towada observed as the oaties dissipated.
“Oh, look what they did to your hair,” Ayako fussed as she sat beside me to deftly smooth my disheveled hair. I’d worn a headband because I’d known I’d be cooking, and an adventurous oatie darting over my head had knocked it to the floor.
“I love your outfit, by the way,” she said. “Really fits the season.”
“R-Really?” I stuttered.
“You’re like a little rabbit, all white and fluffy.”
After my indecisive ordeal earlier that day, I’d opted for a white turtlenecked sweater paired with a dark green, knee-length flared skirt. While the ensemble wasn’t exactly groundbreaking, the colors felt appropriately festive. The sweater was noticeably oversized and soft, probably warranting the rabbit comparison.
“Doesn’t she, Takumi?”
“I see a cat.”
“No, definitely a rabbit.”
“P-Please, you two!”
Rabbit, cat, who cares! I was dying of embarrassment! My face was surely beet red.
As I scooped up the last remaining oatie on my lap to bury my face into, Ayako rose to serve us all cake. She handed us each a deep-blue plate crowned with a stunning slice of homemade cheesecake, which looked so perfect that I would’ve believed it was from a specialty bakery without blinking an eye. “This looks so good!”
“I went through a lot of trial and error to figure out the recipe, so I daresay it more than just looks good!” Ayako contended.
Cooked slowly over the course of an hour in a bain-marie before cooling in the fridge overnight, the New York–style cheesecake was a gorgeous shade of cream throughout, not a blemish on its smooth surface.
“Here, your tea,” said Towada, offering me a mug.
“Thanks. Wow, this mug is so cute!”
A delicate watercolor depicted a rabbit against a soft blue gradient. The art wasn’t in the typical anime style but a technique more reminiscent of a relatively sophisticated picture book.
“Sorry we couldn’t get it wrapped for you, Haruka, but consider that your Christmas gift,” Ayako said, yanking me from my study of the mug. “From now on, that is your cup whenever you visit. I know there’s no box, but don’t worry—it’s never been used.”
Similar mugs sat in front of Ayako and Towada. My gaze flicked to the bookshelf, and just as I remembered, the cup in front of her late husband’s photograph was of the same design.
“To be completely frank, we’ve had the set for a while. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind, not at all!”
Each mug showcased a rabbit doing a different activity. Mine danced, Ayako’s knitted, and Towada’s was skiing.
“I remember seeing this set years ago and feeling like I just had to buy it. There were four cups in total, and Takumi wasn’t even living with us yet. I had no idea what possessed me at the time, but now it’s finally clear to me. The mugs were meant for me, Kaoru, Takumi—and you, Haruka.”
“Me? Really?” I hesitated, feeling out of place.
Ayako, with her signature smile, murmured, “I can think of no one better.”
I didn’t know what to say. A warm, fuzzy sensation stirred in my chest at being granted such a special place in Ayako’s heart. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it dearly.”
As my emotions welled, I hurriedly clasped the mug. It was a normal mug, nothing special about it, yet it settled right into my hand. I lifted it to my lips, and the porcelain was smooth, the rim not too thick nor too thin, as if it was made for me.
“A little rabbit mug for our little rabbit, Haruka,” Ayako teased.
“Cat.”
“Can we please move on?” I demanded.
The conversation veering back to my outfit was strangely enough to stave off my tears.