“Don’t blame it all on me,” Shiba said. “I’ve been through a thing or two just because I’m your younger brother. I had to fight off a few delinquents and pay off a few bills that I certainly don’t remember racking up.”
In the end the brothers came to the same conclusion.
“It’s best for everyone if we act like total strangers,” said Shiba. “So if possible, please don’t spread it around.”
“I agree. It just creates unnecessary commotion,” said Tsugi.
“Gotcha. I won’t let it get out.” Even if the story leaked only to the residents of the Golden Villa Apartments, there would surely be trouble. At least three of the ladies there would fight tooth and nail to be the one to care for their dear Mitsuhiko’s older brother.
“On another subject, Mitsu. I came to give you this.”
Tsugi took a large Tupperware container out of a paper bag. He lifted the lid. Inside, it was filled with ohagi—rice-flour dumplings wrapped in red-bean paste—packed in neat rows. The rich, red-bean paste gleamed in the light, glossy and sweet.
“Wow,” Mitsuri said reflexively. “Those look delicious.
“They’re our sister’s specialty,” Tsugi said, a note of pride creeping into his voice. “I was home this morning and, well, our sister is big on Mitsuhiko. She gave me these, said, ‘Take them to Mitsu.’ If I didn’t bring them to you quick, I’d be in trouble, so I came by.”
“You know I love little sister’s ohagi,” said Shiba. “But she doesn’t need to make so many!”
He explained that his sister, Jewel, was only seventeen. As he was presented with his much younger sister’s handiwork, a look Mitsuri hadn’t seen before stole across Shiba’s face. If the members of his fan club could see him now, they’d be off their rockers, she thought.
“Have you had some, Big Brother?” Shiba asked Tsugi. “Since you went to the trouble of bringing them, let’s eat together.”
“She made me eat the funny-shaped ones until I was half dead,” Tsugi complained. “But I guess I could have a few more.”
“You too, Shōhei, and Mrs. Nakao,” said Shiba. “How about it? I won’t be able to finish them on my own.”
So the four of them purchased paper plates and chopsticks from the store and ate the ohagi. The elegantly sweet red-bean paste and the light, springy rice dumplings were delicious. No wonder they call it her specialty, thought Mitsuri, helping herself to more.
“So how’s the little macho man doing? Is he doing his best on the wrestling team?” Though he had claimed to have eaten ohagi until he was half dead, and gorged himself on katsudon, Tsugi was stuffing his belly with the rice dumplings as though it was his first meal of the day.
“The kid knew how to handle customers,” Shiba replied. “We lost a talented employee.”
“That’s true,” Shōhei added. “Although he’s in such good shape, I might just let him inherit my post as Mojikō’s top informant!” The older man, too, was downing the dumplings with a vigor that belied his age.
“To tell you the truth, it seemed like he didn’t want to give up the job here, but now that he’s getting serious about wrestling, it would be hard to do both. Not much we can say about that.” Shiba, who was carefully lifting a dumpling to his mouth, suddenly paused and smiled.
“Oh, that’s right. He said something that made me really happy, you know.”
Mitsuri looked at Shiba.
“He said, ‘Everyone who comes to our store lives every day of their lives to the fullest. When I gave up wrestling I thought my existence had become meaningless, but after spending all day helping people get through their days, I started to feel like it was good to be alive.’ ”
Mitsuri’s eyes crinkled merrily. Nomiya had said that working at the store was his first job. Before that, it had been all about wrestling for him. This oversized boy, unfamiliar with everything at first, trying so desperately to serve customers. She remembered how his face shone the first time a customer complimented him on his good service.
“A long time ago, there was a girl who said something like that,” Shiba said with deep feeling.
“That one?” Shōhei said, a note of nostalgia creeping into his voice.
Tsugi took an emphatic bite of an exceptionally large dumpling and gazed out at the car park.
“When I heard what she had to say, I decided I’d give this job everything I had. Helping people is a good thing, isn’t it? Even if it’s just for the tiniest moment in their lives.”
Shiba’s voice echoed gently in Mitsuri’s ears. She had never imagined the man felt this way about his work. And with some embarrassment, she had to admit that she had become too used to the work herself, thinking only about completing her roster of daily tasks without incident. She, too, needed to change her way of thinking.
“Those words made me who I am today,” Shiba said quietly, as if speaking to himself. “I’m glad the store exists.” There was no hint of the usual sex appeal or anything dubious on his face. Mitsuri felt like she was seeing his true nature, as fleeting as a drop of dew hidden in a beautiful rose. Perhaps all those people who felt so much for him were simply seeking a glimpse of what she was seeing now.
And, she thought, he really loves his job.
“Well, I like this job, too,” she said aloud, “but working like this with no relief? I’m sorry—it’s too much!” Mitsuri took a joking tone because she knew that she’d never be that close to him. She wasn’t that sort of person. The person to do that would have to be special to him. She may not have had great observational skills, but she had accumulated enough life experience to see that.
“Hey now!” The blossom had closed, and Shiba was back to his usual self again. He placed a hand on his chest and laughed. “Don’t say that! I’m doing the best I can with the interviews.”
“Mitsu, maybe you ought to wear a mask or something, hey?” Tsugi joined in. “Like a horse or a big Buddha.”
“Leave off, Brother!” Shiba protested. “Mrs. Nakao said the same thing.”
“No—if anything, it should be one of those full-body cartoon costumes.” It was Shōhei’s turn to chime in. “I have a friend at an event company. Want me to ask?”
“Shōhei, you too? Give me a break!”
Listening to the friendly banter, Mitsuri laughed. She had the feeling that the shifts to come would be more fun. The mysterious brothers had more surprises, mysteries, and drama in store, no doubt, and she wanted to know it all. After all, it was good material, wasn’t it!
Yes, Mitsuri Nakao was living a full life. Ah, but I wonder…she thought to herself, I wonder if it’s okay for it to be this full! Popping another dumpling in her mouth, Mitsuri laughed merrily.