She explains that the inn is a family business, and while they have hired help now and then, it’s basically run by her, her parents, and her kid brother, who’s still in elementary school. On days like today when there are lots of guests, Chika puts on a uniform and helps serve. By this time of night, just before ten, the dinner service is almost done, and she can finally take a break.
The sashimi is yellowtail, and the side dish is simmered taro root. The light miso soup full of vegetables has a delicate flavor, different from what I’m used to. I tell her I’ve never tasted anything like it, and she says it’s because they use barley miso. I finally feel like I’m in a different part of Japan.
My phone dings.
“Ah!” I blurt out as I check the sender.
“Who’s it from?”
“My aunt. Sorry, I need to read this.”
I open the message. Ugh. It’s so long it fills the whole screen.
“Suzume, I don’t want you to think I’m nagging, but I thought about it for a long time and decided I wanted to tell you some things. I hope you read till the end. First, I want you to understand that you’re still a child. You’re underage. I think you’re a responsible person, but a seventeen-year-old is still a child in the eyes of the world, and in an economic and physical sense. You’re a minor, and while I’m sure there are many ways to look at it, I’m still your guardian—”
Ding!
“Whoa!”
“PS, I’m not mad at you. I’m just confused and worried. Why did you go on a trip all of a sudden without telling me anything? Why Ehime? You’ve never mentioned Ehime, and as far as I know, you don’t necessarily—”
Sigh. I turn my phone over and set it on the tatami mat as if that will keep it away from me. I’ll read the rest tomorrow.
“I wish she would hurry up and get a boyfriend or something,” I mutter.
“Your aunt is single? How old is she?”
“Around forty, I think.” I remember her birthday party the month before last. She always cries when I sing “Happy Birthday.” “She’s really beautiful, though.”
I think of her long eyelashes and of how easily she cries. I pick up a piece of taro root and set it on my rice.
“It’s just the two of us living together. She’s my guardian,” I say before putting the taro root and rice in my mouth.
“That sounds complicated.”
“Not at all!” I swallow the savory taro. “But lately I’ve started to wonder if I’m taking up all her free time.”
“No way!” Chika says, giggling. “That’s the line her ex should say!”
“You know, you’re right!”
Now that I think about it, Chika’s got a point. I feel somehow lighter. “I wish she would be more hands off!” I say, laughing.
“I feel you!”
Crap. Souta heard all of that. It’s only as I’m finishing my mandarin orange gelatin dessert that I realize he’s in the room with us, and I break out in a cold sweat.
After dinner, I go with Chika to the kitchen to thank her family (her parents smile and say the same thing she did: “It’s our job!”). I help her wash the mountain of dishes and scrub the bathing area with a deck brush. While we’re working, she asks if I’ve ever dated anyone. I tell her no, which is the truth. “You’re better off that way. Guys are nothing but trouble,” she complains cheerfully. She tells me she’s just started dating someone, but he’s always getting jealous even though he hardly ever texts her, and he’s constantly saying he wants to go somewhere they can be alone, when in fact there’s nothing but places to be alone around here. She says it’s a real hassle, though she sounds happy as she talks. When we’re done with chores, the whole family drinks iced herbal tea prepared by Chika’s mom, and we joke around some more. By the time we slip into the futons laid out in my room, it’s almost two in the morning.
“Thanks to you, I got to visit that place for the first time in ages,” Chika says sleepily, as if she’s just remembered.
“Really?”
“I went to junior high in that village.”
She must mean the abandoned school, and my heart does a little jump.
She continues quietly. “There was a landslide a few years back, and the whole village was abandoned.”
“……”
“Hey, Suzume?” she says. Her voice is gentle but firm, like she’s made up her mind to say something. “What were you doing back there, getting all muddy? What is that chair you bring around with you?”
She stops staring at the ceiling and turns to look at me.
“Who are you?”
“Um…”
The electric lights in the room are out. The soft light of the lantern next to our pillow filters through the Japanese paper and glints yellowish off her large eyes. Behind me, Souta is standing still against the wall like a proper chair. I feel his presence there as I search for the right words.
“That chair—is a keepsake from my mom. But now…”
What should I say? What can I say? I don’t want to lie, but…
“…I’m sorry. I can’t really explain.”
I try hard to think of something, but that’s all that comes out. Chika looks at me silently. Suddenly, a smile crosses over her face, and she lets out a long breath.
“You must be a magician with all those secrets,” she jokes before rolling onto her back and closing her eyes.
“But you know, for some reason, I get the feeling you’re doing something important,” she says in a kind voice.
“…!”
I almost start crying again. Unable to lie still, I sit up in my futon.
“Thank you, Chika. You’re right—what I’m doing is important. I think so, too!”
I’m talking to Souta, against the wall behind me. You’re doing something important. No one knows, and no one sees, but you’re fighting.
I think back to him all alone, struggling to shut that door in the ruins. It was only yesterday, but it feels like years ago. Thanks to you, I’ve already crossed the sea and been mistaken for a magician. But I’ve also managed to do something very important.
“Don’t toot your own horn!” Chika laughs. We smile together, like we’ve been doing ever since we met.