AS we relaxed, savoring the cheesecake and black tea amid soft strains of music, I tenderly petted an oatie who’d dozed off in my lap.
“I didn’t know ayakashi slept,” I mused aloud, the creature warm beneath my fingers.
“I’ve never seen them sleep either,” Ayako admitted. “Every time you’re here, I learn something new about them.”
“Really?”
“They’re just always there. It’s not like we interact with them.” Towada’s curt tone cut through the coziness of the moment.
“You could stand to acknowledge them a bit more, you know?” chided Ayako gently. Towada pretended not to have heard, earning a wry smile from her before she said, “By the way, Haruka. You’ll be spending New Year’s at your grandmother’s, right? If you’d like, we could dog-sit Koro while you’re away.”
I hesitated. “Actually, there’s been a change in plans. My dad’s vacation got suddenly rescheduled, and my brother also has cram school. So not everyone will be away at once.”
Given how skittish Koro was around unfamiliar places and people, we’d discussed as a family what to do with him while we were gone. Grandma’s was definitely too stimulating for him, and a pet hotel seemed like a bad idea, so I would’ve gladly accepted Ayako’s offer were it still necessary.
“Oh, is that so? That’s a shame, isn’t it, Takumi?”
“Not really. I’m sure Koro’s happier that way.”
Aw, he has Koro’s best interests in mind. That’s sweet.
A few records and topics later, it was time to go—and time for the dreaded present exchange. With a shaky hand, I revealed their gifts. “Um, these are for you. I’m not sure if you’ll like them, but here…”
Ayako’s eyes sparkled with genuine delight. “Really? You shouldn’t have! Oh, how did you know I was in the market for a pair?”
The winter gloves were no special mug, yet I’d chosen them thinking they might keep her warm during her bike rides to the train station. And for Towada, I’d picked a towel he could use for tennis club. Although it wasn’t an actual sports towel, my brother swore by the brand. It was navy blue with little stars embroidered along the edges. The design reminded me of Towada, though I wasn’t sure why.
“Thanks.” His voice was quiet, a trace of surprise in his eyes. Meanwhile, Ayako had already pulled on the gloves, examining them from every angle. I breathed an internal sigh of relief; they both appeared to like their gifts.
Readying to leave, I bundled myself up in anticipation of the wintry chill while Towada dashed upstairs for his coat. As I wound my scarf snugly around my neck, I finally asked the question that’d been nagging at me. “Ayako, do I worry you a lot?”
She hummed in surprise.
“You always have Towada walk me back and stuff,” I clarified.
“Does that bother you?” she asked.
“It doesn’t bother me; it just feels like you think I can’t handle myself,” I mumbled, too quick to deny. In fact, I was the one troubling them. After all, what middle school student still had their parents chauffeur them everywhere?
Ayako’s face softened into a compassionate smile. “Well, if it doesn’t bother you, do you think you could put up with it? The roads here can be tricky and it doesn’t take much to get lost. Plus, there aren’t many people around to help if you do. So yes, I do worry, especially at night.”
“But I feel bad…”
“If it’s Takumi you’re worried about, I wouldn’t sweat it. He doesn’t walk you back because I tell him to.”
My shock caught in my throat and I felt my face heat. What did she mean?
“Towada men are stubborn,” Ayako explained. “If he really didn’t want to walk you back, he wouldn’t—regardless of what I tell him. He’s a lot like Kaoru in that regard.”
I floundered, unsure of how to respond, and she raised a finger to her lips as Towada’s voice emerged from behind me. “Ready to head out?” When I spun to face him, his eyebrow quirked upward. “You okay? You look red.”
“I-It’s probably because I’m an idiot and put on the scarf while still indoors,” I muttered.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Definitely. Okay, let’s go.” My tone was unconvincingly casual, but what else could I have said? I sensed Ayako’s amusement lingering behind me as I hurried to the door. Fleeing the charged atmosphere, I slid into my ankle-high boots and stepped out into the brisk evening air. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and a biting breeze flurried from the nearby forest, cooling my burning cheeks. The neighborhood lacked any festive flair, Christmas Eve just like any other night.
“Take care, Haruka,” Ayako called after me.
“Thank you! I had a really great time and—oh?” An oatie had darted out of the house, clutching something in its mouth.
“What’s the matter? It’s cold out here,” I said in playful reprimand. Curious, I crouched down to meet the creature, and it delicately dropped what it’d been carrying into my hand. The object resembled a piece of konpeito, traditional star-shaped sugar candy, blown up to the size of a ping-pong ball. It was a delightful lemon yellow and had a surprising heft. “What’s this?” I asked.
Sparkles cascaded from the oatie’s mouth, intertwining with the misty vapor of my breath. “Think of it as compensation,” interpreted Towada. “You fed them today without expecting anything done in return, so.”
That was right! The creatures worked in exchange for treats. They must’ve made a first-time exception on my previous visit and would insist on paying me back moving forward. Aw, the conscientious little guys.
“You’re giving this to me?” I asked.
As if in confirmation, the oatie rose on its hind legs to brush against my cheek. That tickles! It seemed to be saying something else, because Towada mumbled to himself, “Throw it high into the air? That’s safe…right?”
The oatie leaped into my arms, nuzzling me affectionately as though to assure me of its intentions. Ayako’s curiosity also appeared to have been piqued; she stepped outside to join us. “Oh my, I wonder what’s going to happen. Go on, Takumi,” she urged.
“Fine.” Our eager faces must have won him over, for he trudged over begrudgingly to take the little star from me. He backed away a few paces, positioning himself at a distance. “All right, here goes,” he announced.
“Go for it!” I cheered.
With a gentle underhand toss, Towada propelled the star skyward. It ascended, cresting the large tree’s tallest branch, then—it detonated with a flash of light. BOOM. A soft rumble reverberated into the stillness as countless luminous orbs burst from the star, exploding in a shower of sparks like a firework. Simultaneously, the bells hanging from the tree rang out in unison.
“Wow…” The spectacle left me breathless. Radiant spheres rained down around us, creating a brilliant dome of light centered on the tree, all while the bells’ melodic ringing continued to serenade the night. Whenever an orb touched my hair or shoulders or settled on my outstretched palm, it flared momentarily before vanishing like an ephemeral soap bubble.
✦ ✦ ✦
I no longer felt the chill evening breeze. There was only the light, the sound, as though I were levitating within their mesmerizing bounds. Dizzily, I turned to Towada, our eyes meeting. “It’s so pretty, isn’t it?” I breathed.
He held my gaze, looking at me as if I’d uttered something incredibly childish. Then he started to chuckle, an unrestrained joy evident in his laughter. It was a side of him I’d never witnessed—a genuine, carefree laugh—and my heart fluttered wildly. Surprised, I rapidly blinked. He didn’t seem to notice me as his laughter subsided, his attention returning to the celestial display.
I clasped the oatie to my chest to help calm my racing heart. Half burying my flushed face in its soft fur, I stared upward once more, watching the receding magic.
As the bells’ chime faded, merging with the general din of night, the final remnants of light winked out, one by one, until only a sense of profound sentiment lingered. I closed my eyes, clutching that overwhelming emotion, unwilling to let it escape from the depths of my heart.