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Chapter 1 – Bound Together (cont.)
The next morning, Kuroh headed out into the garden to practice swinging his wooden sword. Wrapping himself up in the white padded undershirt Ichigen had hand-sewn for him, he padded out onto the chilled ground barefoot. Night had not yet fully given way to dawn, and the pale orange light of daybreak scattered out about him.
“Whoo! Whoo!”
As he sw.a.n.g the wooden sword up and down a hundred times or so, being sure to adopt the form Ichigen had taught him, a drop of sweat began to bead on his chin.
“Whoo! Whoo!”
He always conducted these drills on the basics of swordsmanship before preparing breakfast–this was Kuroh’s daily routine. No matter the heat of summer nor chill of winter, he never deviated from this path, and he made it a point to continue these drills until he could feel the atmosphere around him blending in with his own person.
“All right!” He felt satisfied now, and after adjusting his posture and breathing, he gentle set aside the wooden sword and took up the hand towel he’d draped over the bamboo railing, wiping away his sweat. Ichigen had only just recently praised him for finally managing to perfect his forms, and Kuroh’s cheeks puffed up a bit with pride as he remembered this–but he immediately chided himself, ‘No, I must discipline myself even further!’
You could perhaps say that this manner of focusing his energies was part of what made Kuroh Kuroh. After all, he still wound up getting soundly thrashed in the face of speed he couldn’t even follow whenever he squared off with Ichigen in practice matches. Yet while Kuroh always wielded his wooden practice sword in these matches, Ichigen would at times fight with a rolled up newspaper, and others with perhaps a piece of styrofoam–and even when smacked with these unconventional materials, Kuroh somehow still managed to be blown some two or three meters away. All that–without once using his powers. It appeared to simply be a matter of attaining the right timing and tempo.
“………” Kuroh sank into thought for a moment before deciding he’d try that again today.
He cast his glance about the garden, searching for a target: old persimmon and camellia trees, a hedge blossoming with purple hydrangeas, a stone lantern, a pond which was home to a toad that Kuroh had no idea the age of.
“Meow~”
Just then, a cat slunk lazily toward Kuroh from the veranda. He thought at first it was hoping for a bit of attention and petting, but it slipped right through his legs before leaping up onto one of the garden stones and setting about calmly licking its fur.
The aloof air it gave off as it glanced Kuroh’s way was nigh on hateful–and Kuroh smiled bitterly. This was the tomcat that had taken up residence recently in the neighborhood. He hadn’t a clue where it had come from, but it looked rather long in the tooth, and Ichigen had taken to calling it “Tamagorou” for some reason.
‘I doubt I could try it out on that cat…’ he said to himself. He understood intuitively that his powers weren’t the dangerous sort with which he could lay waste by flame to his surroundings or slice an opponent to pieces with a vacuum, and had received similar a.s.surances from Ichigen, his King, as well. But this didn’t still his hesitation to attempt to take on another living being in this manner.
It was simply that–Kuroh himself still hadn’t the faintest clue as to just how his powers as a clansman of the Seventh King would manifest.
His gaze fell on the plastic watering can he used about the garden. It could probably handle a few sc.r.a.pes if Kuroh messed up…
He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath–before clapping his hands together tightly. He pinched his eyes shut tight as if meditating and forced his heart and mind to calm.
‘Focus…’ he reminded himself. He could feel waves filling him up, all the way to his fingertips–a sensation he’d long since grown accustomed to. Four years ago, he’d only been able to faintly perceive it, but now he could clearly sense it. Putting it figuratively, it was like there was an invisible pool at the base of his core, with little particles of light bubbling up from it. It felt a bit ticklish…and so very warm.
For good reason: because at that very moment, he was connected to the very root of the Colorless King, Miwa Ichigen’s soul. He could feel Ichigen’s strongly shining vibrations resonating within himself–and it imbued in Kuroh boundless courage, cheering him.
He had but one mission: focus his energies on that sensation to the best of his abilities, and then–
‘Release!’ His eyes snapped open, and fixing his focus on the watering can he was targeting, he released the image of his power in a great explosion–
However…
Poof! came a dry sound, and the camellia branches on the tree in the completely opposite direction wavered a bit before two, three leaves fluttered to the ground. After perking up for a moment at the sound, the cat turned an almost snide gaze on Kuroh before returning to cleaning itself. The toad guarding the pond seemed to have hopped away, likely in response to the expanding circle of waves in its territory.
“Another failure…” Kuroh’s shoulders slumped in disappointment and his expression turned crestfallen as he sighed to himself. Despite the slow but steady progress he was making with his sword under Ichigen’s tutelage, he’d not once been able to successfully wield the powers granted him as a clansman of the Seventh King in their four years together, and this failure cast a dark shadow over Kuroh’s heart.
‘I really am just useless…’ He hated how awkward he could be. It was as if he was rejecting this bond with his Ichigen, the person most precious to him, and with each failure, he grew more and more dejected. Ichigen had warned him of the dangers of simply attaining knowledge and promised to explain all about the system of Kings once he learned to master using his abilities properly, but when could he hope for that to happen now…? What if…it never happened?
He brushed off these concerns, though, and trudged back inside.
Kuroh’s guardian, Miwa Ichigen, had been watching the entire affair from a second-floor window. ‘Well, I’m afraid this at least is all up to you. It’s difficult to put into words, after all.’ He crinkled his eyes and smiled a bit concernedly. ‘Even I can’t explain it all that well.’
He quietly let the curtains fall shut before returning to his room; he had to pretend to have been sleeping all the while until Kuroh came to summon him for breakfast, after all. “I suppose you’ve no choice but to learn the hard way–by falling down and picking yourself back up. Hang in there, Kuro,” he whispered softly to himself.
The village Kuroh and Ichigen called home lay in the valley between two mountains in a prefecture and boasted a population of some 200. Getting to the nearest station required spending some 30 minutes being jostled to and fro on a bus. While they had no convenience stores, they did have one general store that sold just about anything you could want.
The elementary and middle schools were located on the same premises, and all children in the village attended. Though–“all” const.i.tuted barely 10 in total. While summers were bearable, the snow piled high in winter, rendering life difficult as the students headed up the narrow mountain roads–too slim for even the snow plows to squeeze through–to cla.s.ses, but Kuroh made the 40-minutes-one-way trek every day, happy to do so.
While officially a fifth-year on paper, the entire elementary school only included four students, and so Kuroh received his lectures in a large cla.s.sroom with the other three students and only two teachers between the four of them. It was a rather cozy little learning environment.
The other three students aside from Kuroh all had the family name ‘Yamamoto’ and represented the eldest, middle, and youngest sons of a pottery-making family that had moved here from the city. Their names were Seita, Kouta, and Heita, and they were all younger than Kuroh, being fourth, third, and first years, respectively. While their names may have been quite similar, their faces were even more so, and they were a rather famous trio of brothers among the locals. Their faces were charmingly plump, with husky bodies to match, and while none of the three could be described as adept in school, they possessed big-hearted personalities and were fawned upon by everyone around them, truly well-dispositioned children.
They’d been nicknamed the “daif.u.ku trio” and seemed to take to it quite keenly, openly declaring themselves as such to others. The first member of the daif.u.ku trio was Seita, the second Kouta, and the third Heita. Given his greater separation in age from his brothers, Heita had a slighter physique than the older two, but only a year separated Seita and Kouta, and they were almost the same height as well–which led the teachers to often get mixed up and call them by the other’s name.
For Kuroh, though, these were his only three cla.s.smates, and the only playmates his age in the area.
On this day, it had unfortunately started to rain in the morning, preventing the children from being able to go outside to play, and so they pa.s.sed their afternoon break indoors. The eldest brother Seita, perhaps taking after his potter father, was quite nimble with his fingers and drew rather well, often sketching drafts of manga. Today as well, he could be seen scribbling in the corners of his textbook, rousing the excitement of his younger brothers who waited impatiently to behold the finished product in flip-book form.
“Ah! It’s moving, it’s moving! The old guy’s dancing!!”
“Niichan, that’s amazing!” Kouta and Heita laughed, expressing their joy with excitement, and Heita turned to call out to Kuroh where he sat in a seat near the window quietly scribbling in his school journal. “Hey, Kuro-chan! Come check this out! Niichan’s latest work is really funny–it’s ‘the dancing baldie’!”
Kuroh raised his head, smiling softly. “When I finish writing this.” Whether inside or outside the school walls, Kuroh was viewed as something of an older brother to the trio, and even most adults granted him their trust, occasionally relying upon him to supervise the other three alone. This was something that arose from the intimate bonds forged between everyone living on the bounds of society–after all, most everyone here was familiar with everyone else, and Kuroh was of course on good terms with the daif.u.ku trio’s parents. Kuroh often looked after the daif.u.ku trio not purely out of any sense of duty, but because he enjoyed doting on them.
Listening to the sound of the rain settling like a hazy mist pattering against the window pane, he attempted to restart his diary scribblings, but when Heita let out another gasp of deep admiration, his hand paused once more in its writing.
“You really can do anything, Niichan!”
His words called to mind again the morning’s incident.
‘I…’
A vision of his powers misfiring–he’d lost track of how many times he’d repeated the same thing. It was as if he understood on one level but didn’t on another.
‘Maybe I’m really just too unskilled…’ He spared a glance over at the daif.u.ku trio. His fingers weren’t as nimble as the eldest’s, and he wasn’t as quick on his feet as the middle child. He’d hoped he still at least surpa.s.sed the youngest in all areas, but then just a while ago they’d all realized during music lessons what an amazing singing voice he had.
Scribbling away, he immersed himself in his thoughts. ‘I screw up my cooking, and I still haven’t learned to master using my powers as a clansman… At this rate, I’m just going to wind up disappointing Ichigen-sama…’
As he sat there dwelling on dark thoughts, though, a voice called to him from his side. “Yatogami-kun, can I speak with you?”
“Ah–yes? What is it, Kawamura-sensei?” This was Kawamura Mitsue-sensei, one of the two teachers in the whole school. She was a strange sort–only in her mid 20s but having by her own volition moved to this poor village–but was very pa.s.sionate about education and truly cared for her students. Her face was young enough to pa.s.s for a high-school student, and she wore rather dull black-framed gla.s.ses and no makeup. Her skin tone was pale and she had rather pleasing features, but it seemed she’d never considered trying to dress up or look fashionable.
Given that he was speaking with a teacher, Kuroh moved to stand out of politeness, but Akagi-sensei moved to stop him with, “Oh, no no, don’t worry, Yatogami-kun. It’s really nothing important. Ah, well, that is…” She fidgeted a bit as she groped for words. “Are you…quite sure it’s all right for me as well to drop by your home tonight?”
“Tonight?” After thinking for a moment, he recalled, “Oh right! Tonight it’s our turn, huh!” He threw her a toothy smile. “Of course! You’re a citizen of this area, after all!”
Akagi-sensei fell silent, words trapped in her throat, and flushed lightly for some reason. In their village, every Friday evening, the adult all gathered for an “a.s.sembly,” which was really little more than a drinking party. The gathering was held at the home of a different prominent villager every week, and everyone brought along food or drink, making merry well into the night–and tonight, it would be held at the home of the village celebrity, Miwa Ichigen. The other day, when Akagi-sensei had dropped by on a home visit, Ichigen had good-naturedly invited her to join them. If you’re free, won’t you join us next time?
“Ah–ha…nngh…” Akagi-sensei’s voice took on a strange tone. “Well, um…what…should I wear, do you think?”
“‘Wear’?” Kuroh c.o.c.ked his head, trying to recall what sorts of outfits the people attending the gathering usually wore. “Let’s see…I think everyone generally just wears casual clothes?” Truthfully, most showed up in fieldwork clothes or sweatsuits, and the refreshments included local sake, boiled vegetables, and dried foodstuffs.
“I see. Miwa-san phrased it as ‘a casual gathering of friends’, so it’s not all that formal, huh.” She nodded to herself. “Also, it seems there’s a rule to bring some kind of present as well–but I wonder if handmade sweets would suffice?”
“Ah, yes, I’m sure!” he instantly replied. Within his mind rose up images of manjuu–steamed buns filled with sweet bean paste–and ohagi–rice b.a.l.l.s coated with sweet red beans–the sort of treats the older women brought along to these sorts of gatherings. “There are some who attend that don’t drink, so I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have something sweet to enjoy!”
Akagi-sensei laughed merrily. “I see! Then I suppose I’ll give it my best shot!”
Kuroh returned her smile, as manners dictated, but inside his head, he pondered, ‘Huh…? I wonder if she’s imagining something a bit different from reality…?’ He couldn’t put it properly into words, but…we felt quite sure there was some discrepancy between the “casual gathering of friends” a young woman who’d just transferred here from the city might imagine and the actual “a.s.sembly which was really little more than a drinking party” held in their village.
However, before Kuroh could correct this misconception, the chime rang, ending their rest period. Akagi-sensei glanced up at the clock on the wall, adding, “Well then, I’ll be there with bells on this evening! Give my regards to Miwa-san!” She reverted here back to teacher-mode from ‘local young woman’ and smiled at him.
“Yes, ma’am!” he replied brightly.
To be continued…
The next morning, Kuroh headed out into the garden to practice swinging his wooden sword. Wrapping himself up in the white padded undershirt Ichigen had hand-sewn for him, he padded out onto the chilled ground barefoot. Night had not yet fully given way to dawn, and the pale orange light of daybreak scattered out about him.
“Whoo! Whoo!”
As he sw.a.n.g the wooden sword up and down a hundred times or so, being sure to adopt the form Ichigen had taught him, a drop of sweat began to bead on his chin.
“Whoo! Whoo!”
He always conducted these drills on the basics of swordsmanship before preparing breakfast–this was Kuroh’s daily routine. No matter the heat of summer nor chill of winter, he never deviated from this path, and he made it a point to continue these drills until he could feel the atmosphere around him blending in with his own person.
“All right!” He felt satisfied now, and after adjusting his posture and breathing, he gentle set aside the wooden sword and took up the hand towel he’d draped over the bamboo railing, wiping away his sweat. Ichigen had only just recently praised him for finally managing to perfect his forms, and Kuroh’s cheeks puffed up a bit with pride as he remembered this–but he immediately chided himself, ‘No, I must discipline myself even further!’
You could perhaps say that this manner of focusing his energies was part of what made Kuroh Kuroh. After all, he still wound up getting soundly thrashed in the face of speed he couldn’t even follow whenever he squared off with Ichigen in practice matches. Yet while Kuroh always wielded his wooden practice sword in these matches, Ichigen would at times fight with a rolled up newspaper, and others with perhaps a piece of styrofoam–and even when smacked with these unconventional materials, Kuroh somehow still managed to be blown some two or three meters away. All that–without once using his powers. It appeared to simply be a matter of attaining the right timing and tempo.
“………” Kuroh sank into thought for a moment before deciding he’d try that again today.
He cast his glance about the garden, searching for a target: old persimmon and camellia trees, a hedge blossoming with purple hydrangeas, a stone lantern, a pond which was home to a toad that Kuroh had no idea the age of.
“Meow~”
Just then, a cat slunk lazily toward Kuroh from the veranda. He thought at first it was hoping for a bit of attention and petting, but it slipped right through his legs before leaping up onto one of the garden stones and setting about calmly licking its fur.
The aloof air it gave off as it glanced Kuroh’s way was nigh on hateful–and Kuroh smiled bitterly. This was the tomcat that had taken up residence recently in the neighborhood. He hadn’t a clue where it had come from, but it looked rather long in the tooth, and Ichigen had taken to calling it “Tamagorou” for some reason.
‘I doubt I could try it out on that cat…’ he said to himself. He understood intuitively that his powers weren’t the dangerous sort with which he could lay waste by flame to his surroundings or slice an opponent to pieces with a vacuum, and had received similar a.s.surances from Ichigen, his King, as well. But this didn’t still his hesitation to attempt to take on another living being in this manner.
It was simply that–Kuroh himself still hadn’t the faintest clue as to just how his powers as a clansman of the Seventh King would manifest.
His gaze fell on the plastic watering can he used about the garden. It could probably handle a few sc.r.a.pes if Kuroh messed up…
He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath–before clapping his hands together tightly. He pinched his eyes shut tight as if meditating and forced his heart and mind to calm.
‘Focus…’ he reminded himself. He could feel waves filling him up, all the way to his fingertips–a sensation he’d long since grown accustomed to. Four years ago, he’d only been able to faintly perceive it, but now he could clearly sense it. Putting it figuratively, it was like there was an invisible pool at the base of his core, with little particles of light bubbling up from it. It felt a bit ticklish…and so very warm.
For good reason: because at that very moment, he was connected to the very root of the Colorless King, Miwa Ichigen’s soul. He could feel Ichigen’s strongly shining vibrations resonating within himself–and it imbued in Kuroh boundless courage, cheering him.
He had but one mission: focus his energies on that sensation to the best of his abilities, and then–
‘Release!’ His eyes snapped open, and fixing his focus on the watering can he was targeting, he released the image of his power in a great explosion–
However…
Poof! came a dry sound, and the camellia branches on the tree in the completely opposite direction wavered a bit before two, three leaves fluttered to the ground. After perking up for a moment at the sound, the cat turned an almost snide gaze on Kuroh before returning to cleaning itself. The toad guarding the pond seemed to have hopped away, likely in response to the expanding circle of waves in its territory.
“Another failure…” Kuroh’s shoulders slumped in disappointment and his expression turned crestfallen as he sighed to himself. Despite the slow but steady progress he was making with his sword under Ichigen’s tutelage, he’d not once been able to successfully wield the powers granted him as a clansman of the Seventh King in their four years together, and this failure cast a dark shadow over Kuroh’s heart.
‘I really am just useless…’ He hated how awkward he could be. It was as if he was rejecting this bond with his Ichigen, the person most precious to him, and with each failure, he grew more and more dejected. Ichigen had warned him of the dangers of simply attaining knowledge and promised to explain all about the system of Kings once he learned to master using his abilities properly, but when could he hope for that to happen now…? What if…it never happened?
He brushed off these concerns, though, and trudged back inside.
Kuroh’s guardian, Miwa Ichigen, had been watching the entire affair from a second-floor window. ‘Well, I’m afraid this at least is all up to you. It’s difficult to put into words, after all.’ He crinkled his eyes and smiled a bit concernedly. ‘Even I can’t explain it all that well.’
He quietly let the curtains fall shut before returning to his room; he had to pretend to have been sleeping all the while until Kuroh came to summon him for breakfast, after all. “I suppose you’ve no choice but to learn the hard way–by falling down and picking yourself back up. Hang in there, Kuro,” he whispered softly to himself.
The village Kuroh and Ichigen called home lay in the valley between two mountains in a prefecture and boasted a population of some 200. Getting to the nearest station required spending some 30 minutes being jostled to and fro on a bus. While they had no convenience stores, they did have one general store that sold just about anything you could want.
The elementary and middle schools were located on the same premises, and all children in the village attended. Though–“all” const.i.tuted barely 10 in total. While summers were bearable, the snow piled high in winter, rendering life difficult as the students headed up the narrow mountain roads–too slim for even the snow plows to squeeze through–to cla.s.ses, but Kuroh made the 40-minutes-one-way trek every day, happy to do so.
While officially a fifth-year on paper, the entire elementary school only included four students, and so Kuroh received his lectures in a large cla.s.sroom with the other three students and only two teachers between the four of them. It was a rather cozy little learning environment.
The other three students aside from Kuroh all had the family name ‘Yamamoto’ and represented the eldest, middle, and youngest sons of a pottery-making family that had moved here from the city. Their names were Seita, Kouta, and Heita, and they were all younger than Kuroh, being fourth, third, and first years, respectively. While their names may have been quite similar, their faces were even more so, and they were a rather famous trio of brothers among the locals. Their faces were charmingly plump, with husky bodies to match, and while none of the three could be described as adept in school, they possessed big-hearted personalities and were fawned upon by everyone around them, truly well-dispositioned children.
They’d been nicknamed the “daif.u.ku trio” and seemed to take to it quite keenly, openly declaring themselves as such to others. The first member of the daif.u.ku trio was Seita, the second Kouta, and the third Heita. Given his greater separation in age from his brothers, Heita had a slighter physique than the older two, but only a year separated Seita and Kouta, and they were almost the same height as well–which led the teachers to often get mixed up and call them by the other’s name.
For Kuroh, though, these were his only three cla.s.smates, and the only playmates his age in the area.
On this day, it had unfortunately started to rain in the morning, preventing the children from being able to go outside to play, and so they pa.s.sed their afternoon break indoors. The eldest brother Seita, perhaps taking after his potter father, was quite nimble with his fingers and drew rather well, often sketching drafts of manga. Today as well, he could be seen scribbling in the corners of his textbook, rousing the excitement of his younger brothers who waited impatiently to behold the finished product in flip-book form.
“Ah! It’s moving, it’s moving! The old guy’s dancing!!”
“Niichan, that’s amazing!” Kouta and Heita laughed, expressing their joy with excitement, and Heita turned to call out to Kuroh where he sat in a seat near the window quietly scribbling in his school journal. “Hey, Kuro-chan! Come check this out! Niichan’s latest work is really funny–it’s ‘the dancing baldie’!”
Kuroh raised his head, smiling softly. “When I finish writing this.” Whether inside or outside the school walls, Kuroh was viewed as something of an older brother to the trio, and even most adults granted him their trust, occasionally relying upon him to supervise the other three alone. This was something that arose from the intimate bonds forged between everyone living on the bounds of society–after all, most everyone here was familiar with everyone else, and Kuroh was of course on good terms with the daif.u.ku trio’s parents. Kuroh often looked after the daif.u.ku trio not purely out of any sense of duty, but because he enjoyed doting on them.
Listening to the sound of the rain settling like a hazy mist pattering against the window pane, he attempted to restart his diary scribblings, but when Heita let out another gasp of deep admiration, his hand paused once more in its writing.
“You really can do anything, Niichan!”
His words called to mind again the morning’s incident.
‘I…’
A vision of his powers misfiring–he’d lost track of how many times he’d repeated the same thing. It was as if he understood on one level but didn’t on another.
‘Maybe I’m really just too unskilled…’ He spared a glance over at the daif.u.ku trio. His fingers weren’t as nimble as the eldest’s, and he wasn’t as quick on his feet as the middle child. He’d hoped he still at least surpa.s.sed the youngest in all areas, but then just a while ago they’d all realized during music lessons what an amazing singing voice he had.
Scribbling away, he immersed himself in his thoughts. ‘I screw up my cooking, and I still haven’t learned to master using my powers as a clansman… At this rate, I’m just going to wind up disappointing Ichigen-sama…’
As he sat there dwelling on dark thoughts, though, a voice called to him from his side. “Yatogami-kun, can I speak with you?”
“Ah–yes? What is it, Kawamura-sensei?” This was Kawamura Mitsue-sensei, one of the two teachers in the whole school. She was a strange sort–only in her mid 20s but having by her own volition moved to this poor village–but was very pa.s.sionate about education and truly cared for her students. Her face was young enough to pa.s.s for a high-school student, and she wore rather dull black-framed gla.s.ses and no makeup. Her skin tone was pale and she had rather pleasing features, but it seemed she’d never considered trying to dress up or look fashionable.
Given that he was speaking with a teacher, Kuroh moved to stand out of politeness, but Akagi-sensei moved to stop him with, “Oh, no no, don’t worry, Yatogami-kun. It’s really nothing important. Ah, well, that is…” She fidgeted a bit as she groped for words. “Are you…quite sure it’s all right for me as well to drop by your home tonight?”
“Tonight?” After thinking for a moment, he recalled, “Oh right! Tonight it’s our turn, huh!” He threw her a toothy smile. “Of course! You’re a citizen of this area, after all!”
Akagi-sensei fell silent, words trapped in her throat, and flushed lightly for some reason. In their village, every Friday evening, the adult all gathered for an “a.s.sembly,” which was really little more than a drinking party. The gathering was held at the home of a different prominent villager every week, and everyone brought along food or drink, making merry well into the night–and tonight, it would be held at the home of the village celebrity, Miwa Ichigen. The other day, when Akagi-sensei had dropped by on a home visit, Ichigen had good-naturedly invited her to join them. If you’re free, won’t you join us next time?
“Ah–ha…nngh…” Akagi-sensei’s voice took on a strange tone. “Well, um…what…should I wear, do you think?”
“‘Wear’?” Kuroh c.o.c.ked his head, trying to recall what sorts of outfits the people attending the gathering usually wore. “Let’s see…I think everyone generally just wears casual clothes?” Truthfully, most showed up in fieldwork clothes or sweatsuits, and the refreshments included local sake, boiled vegetables, and dried foodstuffs.
“I see. Miwa-san phrased it as ‘a casual gathering of friends’, so it’s not all that formal, huh.” She nodded to herself. “Also, it seems there’s a rule to bring some kind of present as well–but I wonder if handmade sweets would suffice?”
“Ah, yes, I’m sure!” he instantly replied. Within his mind rose up images of manjuu–steamed buns filled with sweet bean paste–and ohagi–rice b.a.l.l.s coated with sweet red beans–the sort of treats the older women brought along to these sorts of gatherings. “There are some who attend that don’t drink, so I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have something sweet to enjoy!”
Akagi-sensei laughed merrily. “I see! Then I suppose I’ll give it my best shot!”
Kuroh returned her smile, as manners dictated, but inside his head, he pondered, ‘Huh…? I wonder if she’s imagining something a bit different from reality…?’ He couldn’t put it properly into words, but…we felt quite sure there was some discrepancy between the “casual gathering of friends” a young woman who’d just transferred here from the city might imagine and the actual “a.s.sembly which was really little more than a drinking party” held in their village.
However, before Kuroh could correct this misconception, the chime rang, ending their rest period. Akagi-sensei glanced up at the clock on the wall, adding, “Well then, I’ll be there with bells on this evening! Give my regards to Miwa-san!” She reverted here back to teacher-mode from ‘local young woman’ and smiled at him.
“Yes, ma’am!” he replied brightly.
To be continued…
