As I am packing my stuff, I hear a faint voice at the front door saying hello. I look at my watch and see that it is a little before seven in the evening. Dad’s home early today. “Good evening,” comes my mother’s loud voice from the dining room.
I leave my room with the boxes I have packed so far. The front door faces my room, so I immediately see Dad untying his leather shoes with a slow, steady hand.
“Dad, can I put this stuff in that room over there?”
I’m referring to Dad’s study–slash–storage room.
“Huh? Oh, sure.”
Dad nods, so I make my way to the study.
“But aren’t you packing too soon? We don’t move until next month.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll have a million things to do once the date comes closer. Best to handle what we can right now,” Mom suggests wisely.
Dad asked me the question, but Mom replied first, so I leave it at that.
“Sure, right. How’s your back? Feeling better?” He switches to questioning Mom.
“Mmm, it’s still not a hundred percent…,” she says with a wince.
“Well, don’t push it. I’ll help with chores and stuff.”
“Aw, thank you! Could you make breakfast?”
“You know I can’t cook.”
“But you said you’d help.”
“I meant, like, cleaning or grocery shopping.”
“That’d be nice, too, but…”
This apartment isn’t very big, so I can basically hear everything said inside it.
“Yui,” Mom says as I return to my room, “we’ll have dinner ready soon.”
I respond with a flat, “Okay,” and go on my way.
“I’m coming in.”
Dad barges into my room as I continue to organize my stuff. I keep going, not stopping for him.
“Pretty useful saijiki, huh?” He sits on the bed, looking down at my still-open phone case. “I gave that to you, so take good care of it, okay?”
“I know, Dad. I will.”
I take down the shoebox atop the bookshelf and check inside. It has old New Year’s postcards from my friends, stickers that I used to collect, plus other odds and ends. I put the whole thing as is into a moving box.
“You don’t mind moving, do you, Yui?”
“Huh?” I stop and look at Dad. He glances around the room, a can of beer in his hand.
“It just seems like you’re cleaning up pretty fast, so…”
Do I mind this…?
“…Anywhere’s the same to me,” I flatly reply with the truth. “As long as I have my phone…”
“You think?” Dad says as I get back to work. “…Well, thanks for taking over your mother’s part-time job for her.”
“Sure.”
“Just be careful you don’t throw your back out, too, okay, son?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And dinner’s ready.”
“Oh.”
Dad leaves the room as soon as he says that. I stop my work and follow him.
I’m currently subbing in for Mom over at Sunnyside. Mom hurt her back while she was getting an early start on the moving work. Apparently, finding a replacement for her would be a big pain, so since I wasn’t in any school clubs or teams, I was offered to serve as an impromptu replacement. It wasn’t retail or anything; I’d just be dealing with a bunch of old folks; I figured it’d be easy enough. So I said yes.
“Mom…”
She gives me a “What?” look from the opposite side of the table. Meanwhile, I take a bite of the goya champuru stir-fry we are having for dinner… The taste of the bitter melon really stands out.
“Can you please stop liking my posts?”
Having her be the only person liking any of my comments is, in its own way, embarrassing. Really, zero would be a lot better than her one.
“Huh?” Mom puts her chopsticks down. “What for? I’m the only one giving you any likes!” She accents this with a smile and the peace sign… That’s exactly what’s embarrassing about it, Mom.
Ba-ding. I get a notification on my phone, which is on the table. Putting my chopsticks down, I check the screen and am so surprised by what I find that I promptly stand up, fly out of the dining room, and run for my own room, bumping into the fridge and dish rack along the way.
“No phones during dinner,” I hear Dad say behind me. But…
[Curiosity]
Smile liked your comment.
“Smile…”
That Smile, right…? I mean, it’s a pretty common account name to have, I know…but would any other Smile show up at this moment? Like… What the hell?!
Before I can get my head around it, the SMILE LIKED YOUR COMMENT notification bar appears and disappears on my screen, over and over. Launching the Curiosity app, I find that an account named Smile has liked all the haiku I have posted so far. I tap the account name and check out the profile.
Smile For Me!
I’m Smile from Orange Sunshine!
I’m also on Curiolive; check it out!
Followers: 168,391
Orange Sunshine… The group Japan had mentioned. It really is that Smile. She gave my haiku a ton of likes, but…is this her way of asking for a follow…?
The FOLLOW button is on the right side of her profile page. Slowly, I move my index finger closer to it…but then stop. What should I do? It’d be so embarrassing if I had the wrong idea or something. No but then again, following someone on Curiosity is totally normal…
Then with my momentum getting the better of me, I press the FOLLOW button. I did it… I really did it!
Then another notification.
[Curiosity]
Smile followed you back.
No way…!
I check my follower count and find that, yes, it is now five where it used to be four. Japan, Beaver, Maria ☆, HaikuBot…and Smile. Seriously, she’s following me. Like, wasn’t that a little too fast?
Smile’s icon is easy to recognize. It’s a big, stylized smiley emoticon, and the way it has its tongue sticking out a little is…
“Cute…”
Oh. I can’t help but say it out loud.
“Your voice! I think it’s cute!”
Smile’s voice echoes in my head again. It was just a series of words, nothing unusual or special, but I find myself thinking them over and over again.
Cute. Cute. A cute voice. I want to hear more of it.
The next thing I know, I was done typing it out. It had flashed through my mind, and now I was about to post it on Curiosity.
Cherry @ Haiku account
All too hard to hear
the owner of the voice that
searches for summer
#haiku
My latest piece appears on the timeline. Mm. I like it.
Oops. There it is again. I can’t help but laugh when I see the notification bar on the screen. Do you really need to be so quick about it?
[Curiosity]
Smile liked your comment.