Cut From A Tattered Cloth

Chapter 34

*Twenty years ago*

"Jiro-nii! Okaeri!!"

Eijiro laughed, spreading his arms so that Sayuri could jump into them. Working two jobs at fifteen wasn't ideal, but Eijiro found it hard to complain. Especially when he had Sayuri to come home to. He spun her around, lifting her high into the air in spite of how tired he was.

"Tadaima!" he said, tossing her up before tickling her. She giggled, kicking wildly as Eijiro set her down. He stepped out of his work shoes, his feet aching. He really should've gotten a different job. Working at the wharfs had been busy enough, but a rickshaw driver? That was just crazy, even if they did need the money.

Now Eijiro spent every morning fishing and every night pushing rich people around in a two-wheeled cart. The pay wasn't bad, but at this rate Eijiro wouldn't be surprised if his knees gave out ten years sooner than they were supposed to.

"Did you catch any big fish today?" Sayuri asked.

"Did I?" Eijiro sat next to her in the entryway, feigning a look of concentration. "I think I might have. You should check in my bag."

He slung it off and passed it to her. Grinning, Sayuri opened the top flap, squealing with delight as she pulled out a bag of pink fluff.

"Wataame!" she cheered. Cotton candy!

Eijiro laughed. "Be sure you share with Tsubaki, okay?"

"But Tsubaki never wants to play," Sayuri pouted. "She's too busy working."

"Is she?"

Eijiro stood. Sayuri held one arm up to him, the other wrapped tight around her cotton candy. Deciding to indulge her, Eijiro bent down and scooped her up, resting her against his right hip. Sayuri was getting too old to be carried like this, but she made it so hard to say no to her. It was the reason why Eijiro always bought her candy rather than put that money towards bills or groceries.

He padded down the hall, catching a glimpse of their father in his usual spot. He was sprawled against the tatami mats of the living room, an empty beer bottle in one hand. His mouth hung open and he snored.

Eijiro was disgusted by him. He heard that Tokuda Shinji used to be a good man. If he thought hard enough about it, he could even remember a few times when that was true. But that had been years ago.

A year after Sayuri was born, their mother died in a train accident. As a result, Eijiro's father became a derelict. He wouldn't speak to Eijiro or his sisters unless it was to ask for beer or to yell at them for not having any. At first, Eijiro thought it was his way of grieving. But when he never stopped drinking, he had to accept that Tokuda Shinji loved his beer more than he loved his children.

Eijiro stopped outside of Tsubaki's door. He heard her looms weaving on the other side, threads shushing and whooshing as they bound themselves together. He glanced at Sayuri, who gestured at the closed door as if to say, See! I told you so.

Eijiro knocked. "Tsubaki?"

No one answered. Eijiro almost knocked again, then heard a shuffle on the other side.

"Hai, douzo," Tsubaki called. She sounded exhausted.

Eijiro set Sayuri on the ground, then slid the door open with two hands.

The room was dark. The only light came from a single oil lamp, even though Eijiro had their home wired for electricity two years ago. Eijiro sighed, wishing there was some way for him to fix that. Tsubaki still lived in fear that they would run out of food or money again.