Suddenly, an alarm clock by my pillow blared, abruptly ending my slumber. Irritated, I reached under the covers and slammed my hand down to silence the noisy interruption. I reluctantly pried open my heavy eyelids, annoyed at the alarm I didn’t even remember setting.
“This has to be Akane’s doing,” I grumbled. “Can’t I just enjoy my summer vacation in peace? I’m definitely not a morning person.”
The morning sun filtered through the large glass door, casting a bright glow across the veranda. The sunlight was so intense, almost blinding. Should I go back to sleep? But just as that thought crossed my mind, the second alarm clock crackled to life, only to get intercepted by a resounding bam! Startled, I quickly reached out to turn it off. Damn it, Akane…
“Alright, you’re up,” a voice called out as I struggled with the alarm clock. Groggy, I sat on top of the futon and turned toward the sound. Akane opened the glass door to the veranda slightly and poked her head out. “Hey, you! You can’t just put your alarm clock there without permission.”
I hadn’t noticed it last night, even though it was deliberately placed by my pillow. Plus, I had no idea how to turn off the consecutive alarms, so going back to sleep wasn’t an option. It must have been my sister’s plan.
“But you never wake up, brother.”
“When the time comes, I’ll wake up.”
“No way. You never wake up on time. Yesterday was just a fluke, but you were planning to sleep in starting today, didn’t you?”
That’s right.
“Brother, where were you until late yesterday? Mom mentioned that she wanted to talk to you about something. You’re always out playing, day and night. Let’s have breakfast together,” she said, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern.
Yesterday’s lunch was Akane’s treat, but I didn’t mention it, not wanting the conversation to drag on.
“So, about the alarm clock…?” I inquired.
“That’s right. If you’re awake, come to the kitchen quickly!”
With a hasty motion, I closed the door with a loud thud and swiftly made my way to the veranda. It was an old house, and I reminded myself not to run around too loudly. Finally, I got out of bed, ready to face the day.
“Huh, really…?” I froze upon hearing my mother’s words at the dining table. Her statement left me pondering my next course of action.
“What will you do?” she asked, her tone filled with uncertainty.
“What do you mean? Even if you ask me…” I replied, unsure of how to respond.
It turned out that my mother wanted to discuss her sudden return to Tokyo in two days. We had initially planned to spend a relaxing summer in Kyoto, but her work circumstances had unexpectedly changed.
“We’ll go back first, but if you want to stay, you can. If you feel up to it, you can come back alone. You can handle it, right?” she suggested.
“I can manage, but…” I trailed off, contemplating the idea of returning to Tokyo alone. It seemed simple enough. I just needed to take the bus from Grandma’s house to Kyoto Station, pass through the JR ticket gate, proceed to the shinkansen platform, and board the train to Tokyo. That’s all it would take.
From there, my familiar everyday life would be waiting for me.
“It would be best if we all went back together,” said my mother while gazing at Grandma’s petite figure as she worked in the garden.
“What about Grandma? Won’t she come back with us?” I inquired.
“Grandma doesn’t want to,” my mother explained. “She said she was born in this town and has always wished to stay here. Her friends are nearby and her other relatives are here too, so she’ll be fine…”
My mother exhaled deeply, her gaze fixed on Grandma. She wore a troubled and melancholic expression as if she could sense the thoughts swirling in my mind.
Grandma held the hose I had prepared the day before and gently watered the flowers in an arc shape. Drenched in water, the flowers swayed their delicate petals and appeared joyous. In the clear sky, a small rainbow emerged along with the arching water.
Grandma beamed with happiness amidst the vibrant, seven-colored scene. Observing her and Mom, I found myself caught between their conflicting emotions. Understanding both their perspectives, I struggled to determine the right course of action as their child. It was a difficult decision to make.
I pondered the situation, uncertain what I should do. I didn’t want Mom to carry a worried expression, but I also didn’t want to take away Grandma’s joyful smile.
“Keiichi, think about what you’re going to do,” Mom said while doing the dishes.
“Okay,” I replied, finishing the breakfast on my plate.
From the kitchen, I heard the clinking of ceramics and the sound of running water. Whenever Mom did chores, she asked about my and Akane’s activities.
“Where are you planning to go today?”
“How’s soccer going?”
“Have you finished your homework?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
I understood it was her way of staying connected in the midst of her busy life; however, I found it difficult to answer those mundane questions sincerely, often brushing them off casually while continuing to eat. It had become routine. That’s why the current silence maintained by Mom felt heavy with a tinge of sadness.
“It’s okay… Mom,” I softly called to her back.
“Huh?” she responded, taken aback.
“The food was delicious. Thank you.”
I quickly finished my breakfast, stood without looking at Mom’s face, slipped on the black slippers on the veranda, and positioned myself next to Grandma.
“Granny, let me take over watering the plants.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
I’m sorry, Mom.
Though saying “It’s going to be okay” without a concrete solution may be a mere hollow comfort, I still wanted to say it somehow.
As I directed a larger arc of water into the clear sky, a rainbow painted with seven vibrant colors stretched across the horizon. I had done it too.
“Keiichi, look. There’s a big rainbow,” Grandma pointed out.
“You’re right,” I acknowledged, captivated by the sight.
Unaware of Mom observing us from the kitchen, I continued watering.
A new day begins today.
After watering the plants, I returned to my room. Coming to the countryside was enjoyable, but I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling of having an abundance of idle time. But if I mentioned it to my mother, she would likely respond with a stern “Study!” So, I decided not to bring it up. What should I do now?
As I glanced around my room, my eyes fell upon my smartphone, which I had stashed in my bag and hadn’t checked since yesterday morning. It was hard to believe that I couldn’t live without such devices in Tokyo. With that thought in mind, I checked the screen. There were several notifications in red on the app icons. Even the Line app, represented by a green speech bubble, had a small red circle in the upper right corner. Someone had sent me a message.
Curiosity piqued, I tapped on the Line app to open it. There were notifications from my soccer friends and an invitation to hang out from a classmate. And finally… there was a peculiar sticker that caught my attention. It was from my best friend, Yuuya.
The stamp depicted a bespectacled man with a 7:3 parted hairstyle, leaning on a desk, interlocking his hands, and wearing a frown as if ready to lecture me. What was this all about? Had I upset Yuuya somehow? There was no accompanying message, but beneath the stamp, there was a missed call notification. Hesitant but intrigued, I decided to return the call.
After I listened to the automated message a few times, Yuuya finally answered, his voice somewhat subdued.
“Yuuya? It’s Keiichi.”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“What’s up? You called me yesterday, didn’t you?”