Chapter 26

* * * We wrapped and packaged our creations, cleaned up, and made our way out of the room. I heard a long sigh. It could have come from any of us—or possibly all of us. It was a combination of the sense of a job well done and relief from the jangling nerves of doing something unfamiliar. One nice thing about the little lesson was that, unlike our usual cooking classes, we got to take home pretty much everything we made. I kept a careful hold on the paper bag I’d been given for my packaged cookies, making sure they didn’t get shaken up. We were at the front door when I said to Miyano, “Hey, I saw you looking at Niibashi like you were gonna burn a hole through him. What’s up with that?” I wasn’t exactly bothered by it, but the image wouldn’t quite leave my mind. “Oh, uh, nothing. I just think he has a pretty face…” “Listen, you—” Miyano was quick to object, “That’s not what I mean! I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before.” “Ahh, I get it.” “Well, we do go to the same school,” Tashiro added. I found myself oddly relieved. “By the way, Tashiro, are those cookies for you? Or are you going to give them to your family?” I asked. He didn’t have an object of his affections to bestow them on. Tashiro shook his head. “I’m gonna give ’em to the people at the bathhouse. I owe it to ’em. The old dudes and grandmas are always giving me treats and stuff, so—well, I’m not exactly paying them back for Valentine’s Day, but…” “Huh!” What was he, their grandson? I changed my shoes as we chatted, and then Miyano piped up, “Uh, so, I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’ve gotta go.” Ah, meeting Sasaki at home? Tashiro and I walked Miyano halfway to his destination, until our routes diverged, but I spent the whole time thinking about the phone call I’d overheard and suffering pangs of conscience. What does it mean to propose? I’d pondered the question over the past few weeks. I pondered it now as our friend hurried off on his White Day errand and as I watched people pass here, there, and everywhere on the street. Tashiro’s offhand question had become something of a riddle for me. I was pretty sure I wanted to be with my girlfriend all our lives, and I had said as much—but had I proposed? Not really, I didn’t think. Sure, miso soup or cookies could carry a message of love, but they weren’t the only way to communicate those feelings. Food just got to the heart of the idea that you wanted to accumulate an ever-growing collection of daily moments with the other person. Ahh, but there had to be more to it. Didn’t proposing implicitly include the things that excited you, a life you dreamed of? It was hard to put into words, but you were seeking to obtain a life that, at that moment, you still only imagined. I was afraid that if I tried to sound too cool doing it, I would just make an idiot of myself. If I was too hyperaware of myself, my girlfriend might even sound cooler than me when she answered. After all, there was nothing cooler than when the person you love proposes to you, right? The cookies in their paper bag were light, but they had an unmistakable weight, too. I took the same train I always did, but from the moment I came out of the wicket at the station, nothing felt quite ordinary. Even the street on the walk to my girlfriend’s house seemed blindingly bright. I want this to go on forever, I thought. The fun, the certainty, the love, the feeling that I wanted to take her in my arms that very moment… Imagine going home to the same house every day, feeling that. How wonderful would that be? Maybe I don’t need to fancy it up. I thought of how Miyano had tackled White Day head-on the other day. Sasaki had seemed really happy about his stumbling but earnest phone call. Maybe you didn’t need to act cool or have everything under control. You just needed to let them know how much you cared. There was only one thing I could say as I handed Yuki the cookies: “Can I make a reservation for a proposal?” “Wow! Thanks! I mean… Wow!” She was a little confused but grinned happily. “I’ve got to get through college entrance exams, but once I do, I’m going to stop and give some real thought to my plans for the future. So until then, don’t let anyone propose to you, all right?” She started to laugh. “Ha-ha… Wow! Ha-ha-ha! Sure, Tasuku—yes! Do what you have to do.” She really did love to laugh. I felt like I’d seen more and more of her smiles and laughter since we’d started dating. And although this wouldn’t be for a while, I was certain that the house we would share together in the future would be filled with our joy and laughter, too.