Chapter 24

On the last day of final exams, I decided to walk home with Tashiro and Miyano. The upperclassmen had already had their graduation ceremony, so technically we were the oldest students on campus, but it didn’t really feel like it. It was chilly, as if the seasons were trying to wind back the clock, and the lingering tightness in my shoulders was a constant reminder of the stress of exams. “Finally done! Ahh, the sweet taste of freedom!” Tashiro exclaimed, stretching his arms toward the sky. Then I heard him go “Erk!” as his chair almost tipped over from his excess of enthusiasm. Somehow he managed to keep himself upright—he really was athletic. He stood up, slid his chair in, and stretched again. “Man, I was freaking out!” I understood how he felt, but I also wondered if the lack of activity—clubs and sports teams were on break during finals—was giving him all this energy. His movements were even more exaggerated than usual. “I hear you. But it was just four days,” I said, as I put some handouts from the closing ceremony in a folder. Tashiro shook his head emphatically. “There was a weekend in there, so it was basically like a week of tests!” Gee, and here I would have thought he might be thankful for a break in the middle of all the test-taking. “I could understand that…from someone who had spent that time studying,” Miyano groaned, much to Tashiro’s dismay. I decided to take advantage of this lull to text my girlfriend. Exams over! I wrote. She’d told me she enjoyed even simple communications like that; they made her really feel like the new season was here. “I did study! With my friends, at their houses,” Tashiro objected. He and I hurried to grab our coats; we were a step behind Miyano, who was already pulling his on. “Huh. You do that? I’ve only ever studied at my girlfriend’s house,” I said. “You do homework on your dates?” Tashiro said, fussing with his hood. “Sure we do. Sometimes she even asks me to help her with stuff. Dates are no fun if you’re just putting off stuff you have to do anyway. And she feels the same way.” “Give him half a chance and he’ll start in on the girlfriend talk,” said Miyano. “Well, yeah. How could I not brag?” I said. Miyano was trying to sound disinterested, but I expected him to be just as eager to boast as I was before long… Then again, maybe he realized that the Sasaki he described to me was someone only he could see. Or maybe he didn’t? We worked our way out into the hallway, trading friendly hellos with a stream of classmates. I could hear some people comparing answers and others making plans for some post-exam fun. “Think we should check our answers with each other, too?” Miyano said. “Nah! Don’t wanna!” replied Tashiro. “That’s what I thought.” I listened to Miyano and Tashiro chattering while I checked the text I’d just gotten from Yuki. Congrats! she’d written. Great work! I texted back a quick thanks. I would call her later. As we reached the stairs, Tashiro really went into overdrive, so Miyano and I gave him plenty of space. He started by taking the stairs two at a time, but when we reached the landing, he flung himself into the air. “Five steps in one go!” he cried. “He’s gonna get himself hurt one of these days…” Five steps might have seemed like a lot, but Tashiro could have cleared eight at a time without too much trouble. He looked like a grade-school kid, bounding along. “Oh, hey. When I was studying, I came across this question. What’s it mean to ask your girlfriend to make miso soup for you every morning?” Tashiro said. What did that have to do with our exams? Miyano and I shared a look. “What kind of questions were you expecting on this test?” Miyano said with open disdain. I decided to throw him a bone. “The complete lack of context is what makes the question so…Tashiro-esque.” “That’s a non sequitur if I ever heard one,” Miyano said, but he smiled. I guess Tashiro wasn’t the only one feeling the weight off his shoulders now that tests were over. “No, no, it’s not a test thing. While I was studying at my friend’s house, we were playing this old video game for a break, and the miso thing came up in the ending.” “You played all the way to the end as a break?” I piped up. I didn’t mean to poke holes in Tashiro’s story; it just happened. “Studying via games?” Miyano seemed flabbergasted. “Sure. You’ve never done that?” Tashiro said. “Never. I read a bit of manga once in a while, that’s all. Anyway, this thing about making miso soup came up in your game?” “Yeah! Talk about out of left field, right?” “Maybe not,” Miyano said. “It might make sense—it’s kind of a stock phrase in romantic scenes.” The explanation seemed to come easily for him; it suggested to me that we’d wandered into his field of expertise. I decided to sit back and let him handle this one. “Romance?” Tashiro parroted. True, he didn’t seem like the kind to be super big on lovey-dovey moments. Which was funny, considering he probably would have been a pretty popular guy at a coed school. More’s the pity he attended an all-boys school. “Like I said, it’s sort of a set expression. Who makes miso for you every day at home? Usually a member of your family, right? So it’s basically a roundabout way of asking someone to marry you.” “So it’s, like, proposing?” It still didn’t seem to be quite clicking for Tashiro. “Yep.” “Man, that makes no sense to me! For one thing, we don’t even have miso every day at my house. If I want some, I just grab a packet of the instant stuff and boil up some water—on my own. I guess sometimes my folks ask me to make some for them, too, and I grab two packets.” This was something unexpected. So Tashiro was the serious type at home. Dare I call him…domestic? “Huh! Wait, isn’t it actually expensive to make two people’s worth?” Miyano asked. His unforgiving perspective was interesting in its own way. “Sure is. If that goes on for a couple days, my mom is like, it would be cheaper just to make a bunch at once! She always says laziness is the root of wasting money. And I’m like, I know that! But I keep making that soup.” It sure took all kinds to make a family. The point was, to Tashiro, miso soup was something he made for himself. “Well, I guess you could say, Marry me ’cause I’ll make miso for you every day,” Miyano said. You know, that wasn’t a bad way to propose. A bit sentimental, sure, but I liked the image it conveyed of sitting down to eat together each and every day. Tashiro, though, was shaking his head. “Wouldn’t you get sick of miso every day?” That brought me back to reality. Could you get sick of miso soup? I suppose it was possible. In which case, rethinking the terms of this proposal would be called for. But I liked the general idea. “Would you?” Miyano said, pondering. “If the person you loved made it for you, wouldn’t you be happy?” Hmmm. Maybe it was just another way of being head over heels. “So you’re Team Make Me Miso, Miyano?” Tashiro said. “I think I’d rather be the one doing the making… I mean, notwithstanding my skills in the kitchen.” Yeah, he’d been a clear and present danger during our cooking lessons. This wasn’t a matter of turning a burner up a bit too high—there’d been risks to life and limb involved. I wanted to implore him to make sure there was safety equipment around before he turned that stove on. It had been bad enough watching him use a knife, but when there was fire involved, I couldn’t stand by anymore. “Eh, real miso is pretty much beyond me, too,” Tashiro said, but he was being modest. He had a way with activities that required some finesse; with a recipe to work from, I figured he wouldn’t have any problems. Probably. He was something of a jack-of-all-trades—the real problem was whether he would read the recipe. We traded our slippers for our regular shoes at the door. Tashiro was complaining about how hungry he was. Because we’d been talking about food, I was sure. “Say, Miyano, what are you gonna do about White Day?” Tashiro asked. He made the question sound casual, but Miyano was caught completely off guard. “What do you mean, what am I going to do?” he said. It was, again, very Tashiro-like to come right out and ask something like that. I was sort of impressed. “I mean, the third-years have graduated, so they won’t come to school. You gonna go to his house?” Tashiro added that it sounded like fun. “Why would you ask that?” said Miyano, shrinking back. Tashiro seemed genuinely perplexed. “Well, I know you have some chocolate you want to give out. Like, really want.” “Well, so do you, right, Kuresawa?” Miyano asked, turning to me in distress. “Me? Sure.” “Coulda guessed that,” Tashiro said. “You wanna hear about it? I don’t think I can finish telling you before we reach the station. How about we stop by a restaurant somewhere, get some drinks…” I said. If my experience could help them, then by all means. Then again, maybe lunch was on at my house. Another time, then. “You’ll talk forever! Well… But maybe it might be nice to chat sometime,” Tashiro said. When sports and clubs started up again, it would be hard to find time to hang out together after school, especially with Tashiro being captain of his team. Anyway, I would be going to see my girlfriend. “We’ll have to find a chance sometime,” I said. “So, Miyano, what are you going to do about White Day?” “You too?” he groaned, his brow wrinkling. He’d probably thought he was safe after the change of subject. “Frankly, I think we’re the best people you could talk to. We know this upperclassman of yours ourselves,” I said. Miyano swallowed hard. “Okay, true. But…” “You’re embarrassed,” I volunteered. “I just know you’re enjoying this!” “Hey, it’s okay. It is kind of funny,” Tashiro said. If he was trying to offer an olive branch, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Miyano’s shoulders slumped. “I’m gonna give him something back…to repay him. I mean, I want to…” He trailed off, looking cowed by all the people around us. But… Hmm. All right. So Miyano wanted to repay Sasaki’s Valentine’s Day gift on White Day. It wasn’t too long after final exams, and we were almost done working out White Day plans. Miyano and I were going to the library to do some research when I noticed a poster and came to a halt in front of the bulletin board on the stair landing. MAKE YOUR OWN WHITE DAY GIFTS! it said in big letters. This was followed by a brief description and instructions on how to apply to participate. It looked like something that one of the home ec teachers was doing voluntarily for the students. How long had this been here? I was chagrined to say I didn’t remember. “White Day…,” I mumbled. That got Miyano’s attention—he’d walked right past the poster. “Huh?” “This might be just the thing! You should do this, Miyano.” They were only going to make cookies, and the poster said beginner chefs were welcome. It seemed perfect for him. “Huh, I didn’t know they were offering this. Is the Cooking Club putting this on?” “Doesn’t look like it. It just has the name of a teacher. If there was a club involved, they’d probably want you to apply with the club president.” “Good point. A club probably doesn’t have the budget for something like this.” “So,” I said pointedly. “You gonna do it?” “Do I have to decide now?” “I’d like to give my girlfriend something. It’d sure be nice to have some company when I’m baking cookies,” I said. I hoped that would make it easier for him to say yes. Not that a couple who were dating needed an “assistant” to help with something like this, but Miyano seemed like he could use the extra push to get out of his comfort zone. “Hrm, well… I’d like to give Sasaki something, too. I don’t want to just tag along; I’d better actually do it.” “Yeah?” I said, somewhat surprised. I was impressed that Miyano could be so upfront about those things now. “Hey, uh, Kuresawa, do you think you could go on ahead?” Miyano asked. I said sure and went on my way. I guess he had something to do. Well, I didn’t have club or anything, so I had nothing but time. I got going again, jogging down the stairs, but a few minutes later I realized I’d forgotten my pencil case. It had been in my gym bag when we changed classrooms, and I didn’t think I’d ever gotten it out again. I figured I had time to grab it before Miyano finished whatever he was doing. I started jogging back up the stairs—but then I heard Miyano’s voice from the hall. It sounded like he was right by the staircase. “Hey, um, about White Day. I’m not gonna be able to make stuff with you…” It sounded like he was talking to Sasaki. Was this phone call what he’d had to do? So they’d been planning to make something together? I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but if I walked away now, the question of what was going on would gnaw at me. I wouldn’t tell my girlfriend about this, of course—it was just an accident. “Sure! Um, I do…want to thank you, but, uh… I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep it a secret, so let me just go ahead and say it. The school is doing some sort of cooking class for White Day, and I’m gonna make something there. I won’t tell you what it is yet. But just, uh, I’d like to give it to you on White Day, so if we could meet after school that day…?”