Starting a new chapter in his life as a student in Tokyo, Haru never expected his world to be turned upside down. Across the street, he encounters Fujiwara, an aloof and enigmatic young man with a mysterious past. As Haru grapples with unfamiliar em...
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Haru's footsteps echoed through the staircase, pulling Aiko back from memory lane. She was so used to living alone, she still needed time adjusting to her new guest. Swiftly, she grabbed the paper bag next to her seat, took out a slim box, and carefully positioned it beside Haru's dinner bowls.
The boy paused for a moment at the sink and washed his hands before joining her. He glanced at the adorned dining table and bowed his head. "I've troubled you with my meal again."
"No trouble at all. When your mother and I shared an apartment, I used to cook all the time for us. Midori never said anything. Besides, you've been cleaning the house and cooking dinner for a while, so this time it's my turn." She gestured at the flat box, "Before we eat, please accept this gift. I bought it for you."
Haru accepted the gift with both hands and opened the box. "Nishii-san, these are truly beautiful chopsticks!"
"I know that your birthday was two weeks ago, but I thought it would be nicer to wait until you got to Tokyo to give you your present, instead of sending it to Yoshino."
Haru nodded, examining the new chopsticks closely. "There's a sakura motif on them."
"A symbol of spring, much like your name*. May this modest present bring joy to your new life here in Tokyo."
"I am genuinely grateful."
"You're most welcome. Now, let's eat!"
...
"Aiko, look at the guy!" Midori nudged me. "What the heck is he doing?"
My focus shifted to the young guy, who stood out conspicuously in the crowd. His sailor uniform, appearance, and demeanor drew attention. I could see right away what amused Midori: the man was handling chopsticks with his left hand. People in the sushi place couldn't help but whisper and sneak looks at him. Interestingly, the man seemed completely oblivious of the attention.
"I think he's a foreigner," Midori whispered.
"He definitely is."
"I feel bad," Midori sighed. "Should we tell him?"
"You do it."
"I forgot to put on lipstick. You do it."
It was clear to me that the sailor had trouble using the chopsticks. Once he manage in clamping the rice, his chopsticks snapped into two. People covered their mouths and giggled. The chef, busy serving guests, glanced at the sailor and shook his head in disbelief.
Okay. I couldn't let this to go on. I took a deep breath and approached him. "Excuse me."
