Mitsuri Nakao was living a full life. She’d married her college sweetheart seventeen years ago, and with her son, a high school student, they were a family of three. She worried a little about her son—he was in a rebellious phase—but otherwise she hadn’t a care in the world. She got along with her husband, her in-laws lived in the neighboring prefecture, close but not too close, and her own parents were in good health as well. She and her husband had purchased a single-family home eleven years ago, which was modest but comfortable, and they were regular with the mortgage payments. A few years ago, she’d taken on a part-time job at a local convenience store to supplement their income, and it was all going well there. Actually, it had been going much better than well: the benefits there far outstripped the salary.
Anyway, for now, let’s just say that Mitsuri Nakao was living a full life.
✦ ✦ ✦
“I see the lineup is changing next month,” announced Nomiya, Mitsuri’s part-time colleague, as he peered at the digital tablet in her hand. She was busy restocking. “Cold soba noodles and chilled Chinese ramen. Oh, I get it. These are the summer items.”
“It’s almost July,” she replied. “Came on fast, didn’t it?”
“Tenderness has the best ramen of all the convenience stores,” said Nomiya. “It’s got a fantastic balance of flavors and textures. Although the portions are on the delicate side, so I have to have two.”
Nomiya was a first-year student at Kyūshū Kyōritsu University. He’d started part-time at Tenderness when he enrolled at the university. He used to be on the wrestling team, so his body was bulging with muscles, and though the store issued him an oversized uniform, his chest and shoulders always seemed about to burst through it. Apparently he had won no end of tournaments during high school.
Kyūshū Kyōritsu’s team was a real powerhouse, but Nomiya gave it up when he left high school and wouldn’t say why. Mitsuri, for her part, didn’t feel the need to bother him about it.
She turned to Nomiya. “I’m surprised! I’d have thought your regular go-to would be the beef bowl with summer vegetables.”
For young men, the beef bowl was the big winner on the summer menu. The charcoal-grilled beef and colorful array of vegetables were appealing to the eye, and it had more rice than the regular bento box lunches, so it was very satisfying.
“Nope, that one’s special. But, yeah, the rice at Tenderness is also really good. The white rice.”
“Well, that’s because we take a lot of care with it. Bento, desserts—all the food, really.”
Mitsuri tapped confidently at the numbers on her handheld screen as she replied. She had been working at the Tenderness Koganemura branch in Mojikō for four years now and had a good sense for how every product there would sell.
Tenderness was a convenience store chain that operated only in Kyūshū. Their motto was “Caring for People, Caring for You,” and as far as convenience chains went, they were second to none. The Tenderness Koganemura branch was about halfway down Ōsakamachi Avenue in Mojikō, the harbor district of the city of Kitakyūshū, on the ground floor of the Golden Villa Apartments building. It was located in a quiet neighborhood, slightly removed from the Station House and former Mitsui Social Club in the sightseeing area of the old port town, famous for its retro architecture. Patrons tended to be locals more often than tourists.
A gentle music-box melody drifted through the store when the automatic doors slid open and shut, signaling the arrival of a customer. The two of them turned their heads toward the door, just as an old man in a white tank top and bright red overalls came in. It would still be a while before the rainy season was officially over, but the man was dressed for high summer. He sported a beard that obscured half his face, had a bald head, and there was a sharp glint in his eye. The arms jutting out of his tank top were broad and muscular. He was tall, and his eyes swept the shop interior with an intimidating glare. But when he spotted Mitsuri and her colleague, his fierce demeanor brightened, and he patted each one gently on the head.
“Hallo, hallo!” he said. “You’re looking sweet as always, Mitsuri.”
“Good morning, Shōhei!” she replied. “How are things in town?”
“Hmm, looked to me like a lot of tour groups in from China today. They said they’re visiting the area around the station and then off to Karato via the Kanmon Ferry.”
Shōhei Umeda was a local celebrity. He pedaled all over town with a stack of homemade sightseeing maps of Mojikō in the rack of his bright red cargo bike. He looked intimidating, even scary, but because of his unconventional appearance and unexpectedly friendly demeanor, the local children were all fond of him and called him “Old Red.”
“They asked me if I was an actor!” he said with pride. “Well now, I’ve been mistaken for a movie star more than once in my life. I can’t help that.”
If Mitsuri had to say, she actually thought that with his bald head, beard, and fierce gaze, he looked more like Bodhidharma, the famously cranky ancient Zen priest. So much so, in fact, that one could be forgiven for thinking the historic character had been reincarnated right here in Mojikō.
“They all wanted to take a picture with me. I was mobbed, and I ran out of maps. Now I’ve got to go home and print some more.” Shōhei chortled like a movie villain, which was just everyday behavior for him. “So that’s it for today’s patrol,” he said apologetically.
Shōhei was the self-proclaimed tourism ambassador for Mojikō. And a self-appointed guardian angel as well, maintaining peace in the neighborhood. While he was pedaling around, handing out his tourist maps, he often stopped by the store when he needed a break.
“Nothing to worry about here, Shōhei,” Mitsuri said, laughing, “the store manager is off today.”
“Oh, is he?” Shōhei replied, his face brightening. “It’s quiet when he’s away.”
“Exactly. So we’re okay.”
“In that case, I’ll head home with no worries. Well, see you.” With a nod of satisfaction, Shōhei hopped on his cargo bike and off he rode.
“Take care, Shōhei!” Nomiya called after him with feeling.
Shōhei was a dynamo, always bursting with energy, perhaps because he rode his cargo bike day in, day out, no matter the weather. People said he was well over eighty, but his skin had a radiant glow to it, and when he pedaled past on his cargo bike there was not a hint of weakness in those leg muscles. When I grow old, I’d like to be rugged like that, Mitsuri thought.
The door melody played again, and when she looked over, another older man had come into the shop, this one very thin and leaning on a cane. The man mopped the sweat from his temples with a towel and, spotting Mitsuri and Nomiya, made a curt grunt of recognition.
“Good day, Mr. Urata! It’s hotter than usual, isn’t it?” Nomiya raised his voice in greeting, but Urata’s face puckered into a frown. Urata lived alone in the neighborhood, and unlike Shōhei, he had a difficult disposition. Perhaps Nomiya’s bright and cheerful demeanor bothered him, but he never failed to find fault with him.
“No need for you to shout, young man, my hearing is just fine. If you have so much extra energy, why don’t you go get some exercise instead of grubbing for spare change here?” He spoke sternly, shaking the tip of his cane at Nomiya. “Look sharp, now. I came to eat. Hop to it and get my lunch ready.”
Nomiya pursed his lips for a moment in annoyance, then quickly covered it over with a smile.
“Right. One lunch special, coming right up!”