Shine in Summer's Glimmer, 3/6

[astrangestorm]

It’s a quiet night in the kitchenette, just the three of them. Matsumoto Jun. Sakurai Sho. Ohno Satoshi. Matsumoto serves them veggie and shrimp tempura, and the room is full of the scent of cooking oil, the beers they drink.

Nagase will be back just before curfew. Yukie has not gotten up the rest of the day. While Matsumoto made dinner, Sho sequestered himself in the living room, calling Ninomiya.

It was after office hours, but he answered on the second ring. He spent most of the call reassuring Sho that Yukie needed time. “She’s still coming out of that fog from a few weeks back. That she’s there, that she’s been cooking and reading and beachgoing the last few days is good news,” Ninomiya had said, his voice light and soothing. “She’s doing fine, Sho-san. You have to give her time.”

The call ended with a request from the doctor. If Yukie’s condition stays down for three days straight, even with her usual pill-taking, Sho is to call him back. If things are really horrible, Ninomiya has vowed to come in person. But it may only be a matter of Sho driving to the Onjuku pharmacy where Ninomiya will fax an updated prescription, an adjustment to Yukie’s existing pill regimen. But that’s only if she stays down for three days straight.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. Let her decide what she wants to do. Whether it’s cooking or swimming or sleeping the whole day. Every decision she makes should be her own. That control needs to be hers.”

Ohno arrived just after Sho’s call, and the fisherman’s face falls when he hears that Yukie is not feeling well. He doesn’t pry, doesn’t ask any questions. “Thank her again for me,” Ohno says softly, “thank her again for going out of her way to cook the other night.”

It’s still raining while they eat, the crunch of the tempura batter matching the splatter of raindrops against the windows of the guest house. “Matsujun,” Ohno finally says when he comes back to the table with a third can of beer. “Whatcha reading now?”

Matsumoto scowls a bit. “Like you really care.”

“I do care,” Ohno insists, although there’s a bit of a smartass tone to his voice. He looks to Sho, barely holding in a derisive snicker. “This guy here…this guy is very impressive, Sho-san.”

“What do you mean impressive?”

Matsumoto shakes his head, biting into a piece of broccoli.

Ohno sits back a little in his chair, cracking open the beer can. “I don’t read much beyond my fishing magazines, but this guy reads all the classics. The stuff they made us learn about in school.”

Sho can’t help being interested. Despite the many conversations they’ve had, there’s still so little he knows about his host. “Nothing wrong with reading the classics.”

“He’s reading the Kojiki!” Ohno says, voice amazed. “He’s reading it for fun.”

Sho looks over, sees that Matsumoto’s ears are turning a little red. He’s not sure what’s so scandalous (or humorous) about reading one of the most historic and important pieces of writing their country has ever produced, but Sho does have to admit to himself that Matsumoto Jun doesn’t exactly look like the type of person who’d read something like that. At least not as part of one’s relaxing summer reading.

“It’s interesting,” Matsumoto says in his defense. “Slow going, but interesting.”

“Well good for you, Matsumoto-san,” Sho praises him. “My colleagues at work, the literature teachers at least, would be happy to know that people will read it even if they’re not forced to take a test about it.”

Ohno laughs, sipping his beer. “The Kojiki.”

“What about you, Sho-san? I saw that stack of books in your room,” Matsumoto asks.

“Nothing so high-brow for me, at least not on vacation. Mystery novels for me, the sillier the better.”

“If you change your mind,” Ohno jokes, “just sneak through that door and go to Matsujun’s bookcase. I’m sure he’s got an abbreviated version of the Shoku Nihongi if you’re looking for something a bit lighter.”

“I make you dinner, and this is the respect I’m shown,” Matsumoto snaps back, giving Ohno what seems to be a practiced glare.

Ohno laps it up, giggling before having another bite of food. “What was it Aiba-chan was saying the other week, about you being born in the wrong century?”

Matsumoto’s expression shifts, and Sho has a feeling that the “Aiba-chan” Ohno’s talking about is the same Aiba Masaki who owns Triple Kitchen. Sho watches as Matsumoto all but shuts down, having a long sip from his beer can. So that’s it, Sho realizes. That was what he’d said yesterday that bothered Matsumoto so much. It’s something to do with Aiba Masaki.

But what? Sho had only spoken to him for a few minutes, and the guy had been warm, open, kind. Clearly something had happened in the time between Matsumoto heartily recommending Triple Kitchen on the phone and Sho’s arrival at the Hidamari Guest House. But what?

“You and Aiba-kun need to stop ganging up on me,” Matsumoto finally says. This time he doesn’t get angry, doesn’t stiffen with fury and discomfort as he had in the yard.

He just looks sad.

“We love you,” Ohno says, oblivious, “it’s how we prove our love for you.”

Sho watches the exchange carefully, and at the word ‘love’ Sho watches Matsumoto clench and unclench his jaw.

“Don’t stay here too late drinking,” Matsumoto says quietly. “I won’t be held responsible for you falling off your boat in the middle of the night.”

Ohno laughs, clearly not realizing that he’s said something wrong. “Okay, okay.”

The meal concludes soon after, Matsumoto seemingly forgiving Ohno enough to pack up most of the leftovers for him, sending him off with a hard smack to the ass that has the soft-spoken fisherman letting out a complaining squeal of laughter.

Sho stays quiet, cleaning up the kitchenette as Matsumoto escorts his guest to the door.

“Careful with the oil,” Matsumoto says when he returns, sees Sho going for the deep fryer that Matsumoto brought in from his own living quarters. “Let me take that, I’ll take care of it.”

“If I follow you,” Sho says, “will I really find all the classics of Japan on your shelves?”

Matsumoto sighs, lifting the fryer gingerly and heading for his rooms. “Get the door, will ya? And I don’t want to hear another teasing word about what I choose to read. Especially not from a teacher.”

Sho obediently crosses the room, hiding a smile as he opens the door. He leaves it open, watches Matsumoto head off down the corridor. There’s not much to see, only a hall with a door to either side. When Matsumoto gets to the end, he hangs a right, presumably heading for wherever his own kitchen is.

If Sho was a far more daring man, he’d follow Matsumoto in. But Sho’s anything but daring, and he returns to scrubbing the splatters of oil and batter from the countertop where the fryer had been sitting, wiping down the table. He almost thinks Matsumoto’s not coming back but he does, lingering in his own doorway, leaning sideways against it.

“Do you want to check with your mother? See if she wants anything?”

He shakes his head, by now washing dishes. “If she didn’t come down, it means she’s not hungry.”

“I know it’s rude to ask,” Matsumoto continues, “but how long has she been like this?”

He turns off the sink, wiping his hands on the dish towel and turning around. He leans back against the sink, and he looks across the room to his host. He looks curious, serious.

“My whole life. Even longer than that. It runs in her family, but it’s really only this generation, well, my mom’s generation, that’s managed to give it a name. To call it what it really is, to acknowledge it, and to treat it.”

“Nino will take good care of her.” Matsumoto’s expression softens. “I mean, I’m sure he is already.”

Sho perks up a little. “Nino?”

“Everyone in school called him that.”

It sounds almost fitting, a cute abbreviation. “Well, he’s an excellent doctor. And a kind man.”

“That he is,” Matsumoto agrees.

Sho simply can’t keep himself from mentioning it. “Though he did say something about a nickname of yours.”

Matsumoto takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, here it comes.”

“Junnosuke,” Sho says, unable to keep from teasing. “Is it true?”

He nods. “Yeah. Yeah, what an idiot I was. Junnosuke.” He laughs bitterly, putting his glasses back on. “What a weird kid.”

“Weird maybe,” Sho replies, “but interesting, too, I’m sure. You seem to have a lot of nicknames, Matsumoto-san.”

“I only had them call me Junnosuke because some of them started calling me ‘King.’” There’s an odd undertone of pride in Matsumoto’s voice, and Sho can’t help smiling.

“King? That’s a hefty thing to live up to. And here I am, thirty-five years of Sho-san, Sho-kun, and Sho-chan.” He laughs. “Nothing king-like about me. There were a few people who called me ‘SakuSho’ but nothing so grand as ‘King’ or ‘Junnosuke.’”

“Would you prefer it if I called you ‘SakuSho’?” Matsumoto teases, grinning.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to the sink full of dirty dishes. “Only if I get to call you Junnosuke.”

“I’ll pass.”

Matsumoto approaches, taking up the dish towel. Together they wash and dry in companionable silence as the rain falls outside.

When they finish, Matsumoto wishes him a good night, heads back for his own rooms. Presumably to get back to his difficult reading.

“How about Matsujun then?”

Matsumoto turns, eyeing him suspiciously. “Hmm?”

“I…I feel like it suits you best. Of all the ones I’ve heard so far.”

He receives a nod. “Then go for it.”

“Good night, Matsujun,” Sho says, trying it out.

“Good night, Sho-san.”

/ / / / /

Yukie is not back to 100 percent the next day, but she does make it out of bed. Nagase is leaving in the afternoon, and she wants to watch him surf. Jun sleeps late, so they leave a note for him on the table and head to the beach. They rent beach chairs so they don’t have to wake him, force him to open the shed. Sho suspects he’ll be angry about that later, but Yukie is insistent on leaving their host alone to rest.

Their time at the beach is subdued, but his mother watches the surfers, Nagase among them, with a soft smile on her face. The house will be much quieter without him, but Maya and her fiance Daisuke are coming up in three days and will stay for three before heading back to Wakayama. Sho will only get to annoy his sister for one of those days, as he’ll be heading back to Tokyo for a teacher meeting. By the time he returns, all he’ll be doing is driving her to the train station for her long journey home.

Already, Sho can’t help dreading the long drive back to Tokyo. His small apartment, the Tokyo noise and crowds. His mother will surely be happier with Maya around after a few months apart, so he’s not concerned about leaving them behind. But it’s barely been a week at the Hidamari Guest House, and Sho knows he’ll miss Matsumoto Jun, his thick glasses, the shape of his broad chest and strong arms in his t-shirts.

When Nagase finally emerges from the water, he hurries over to them with a smile. There’s another hour before he has to pack up and go, and he insists that there’s no way he’s going to leave Onjuku without one last lunch at Triple Kitchen.

Yukie, who had barely eaten that morning, allows Nagase’s energy to pull her along. They return their chairs to the rental booth, pick up their beach bags, and Nagase brings his board with. He leaves it in a rack with others, and they line up at Onjuku Beach’s number one dining attraction.

Sho’s still easily lured in by the smells, by the shouts filling the tent, but he can’t help wondering about the man at the cash register. He’s obviously friends with Jun and Ohno, but what had happened between him and Jun? Sho can’t help but be curious.

Nagase once again orders his array of spicy skewers. Yukie approaches the counter, and Nagase mentions that the Hidamari Guest House discount now extends to a third person. Aiba-san’s smile is genuine and strong as he leans forward to greet Sho’s mother.

“How do you do? My name’s Aiba Masaki. I know it’s a little noisy around here, but feel free to ask about anything on the menu.”

Yukie is instantly charmed. “What is your healthiest menu item?”

“Hmm,” Aiba says, still smiling at her, “we have veggie burgers. Veggie dogs. Any toppings you like, one of the servers can put that together for you. We also have vegetable skewers. I’d say pretty much everything else we make is meat or something that’s going to get dipped in or served with garlic butter.”

Yukie laughs. “I think I’ll take two veggie skewers please.”

“That’ll be two veggie skewers! Easy on the heart attack!” Aiba shouts.

“Two veg, just a glaze, coming right up!”

He lowers his voice again. “You will absolutely love them, and if not, then your meal is on me. Any guest of Matsujun’s is a friend of mine.”

“You’re friends, then? You and Jun-kun?” Yukie says, pulling out some coins. “Do you come to the house often?”

For the first time, Sho sees that Aiba-san’s smile weakens. “Yes. Yes, we’ve known each other a while.”

She pays for her food, not seeming to notice Aiba’s reaction. “When do you close up at night? If you come by this weekend, let me make dinner for everyone. My daughter is coming up here. And then I can make enough for you, Satoshi-kun, Jun-kun…”

“We close at sunset. And you’re very kind to offer,” Aiba says. “Thank you, Yukie-san.”

With that soft dismissal, he turns to Sho, the big smile back. Only Sho seems to realize there’s something a little off about it. “Welcome back, Sho-chan. Another clam platter?”

This time he opts for one of each skewer, the same as Nagase’s order, but without the “crazy.” Nagase has already taken Yukie away from the register to hunt down a spot to eat. This seems to give Aiba courage to ask a question.

“How is Matsujun?” he asks once Sho is ready to pay. “Everything okay?”

“Um, yes. Yeah, as far as I know.” Sho isn’t sure what answer Aiba’s looking for.

“Good. I’m glad. Well. Please enjoy your lunch!”

“Thanks.”

He walks away, joining his mother and Nagase, the three of them soon praising their skewers of grilled goodness. “He seems like a nice man,” Yukie is saying. “This is a very popular spot.”

“Aiba-chan’s a good kid,” Nagase agrees. “He’s got this tent open all summer, unless it’s raining and he has to go inside. The rest of the year, he’s in the regular restaurant. Although it’s a bit of a ghost town around here outside of summer. It’s mostly just him and a line cook when he’s indoors. He’s told me that he makes all his money right now.”

“I feel like I could eat here every day,” Yukie says, turning to Sho. “We’ll bring Maya and Daisuke here. We’ll invite Jun-kun too.”

Sho has a feeling that invite will not go over well, but he nods anyway. “Of course. I’m determined to try everything on the menu before the end of the month.”

“Then that’s settled,” Yukie says, and they finish their meal.

When they arrive back at the house, the downstairs bathroom door is open, the strong scent of household cleaners filling the kitchenette. Nagase hollers that he’s going to finish packing while Sho lingers with the beach bags, watching as his mother goes to stand in the doorway.

“Sorry to interrupt while you’re working,” his mother tells Jun, “but we have returned.”

Sho listens in.

“Welcome back,” Jun says, his voice echoing lightly off the tile. “Did you have an enjoyable time?”

“We ate lunch at the Triple Kitchen. It was delicious!”

“Wonderful,” Jun replies, and Sho is surprised by how strong his voice is. Sho suspects that he doesn’t want to worry Yukie with whatever’s bothering him. “The food there is excellent.”

“I was just thinking, but when my daughter comes, I thought maybe the group of us could go there together. My treat.”

“Yukie-san,” Jun says with some hesitation this time. “I couldn’t possibly…”

“No, please do consider it,” his mother says. “I’d love it if you could join us.”

“Mom,” Sho interrupts, but Yukie is not deterred.

“Jun-kun, I have been here nearly a week, and I have gone to the beach more than you have. Please consider coming to have some fun with us.”

“I will consider it. Thank you, Yukie-san.”

Sho can’t listen to much more, so he leaves the room, desperate to stifle his curiosity even though it’s none of his business. Nagase comes to bid him farewell, and the house grows quiet again.

/ / / / /

It rains the next two days. On the first day, Sho and his mother get in the car, drive down to Katsuura for the morning market. Despite the near-constant showers, the humidity remains, and they spend the rest of the day in the car, simply driving around, enjoying the wet greenery of the Chiba hills with the air conditioning keeping them cool.

Matsumoto is gone in the evening on the first rainy night, out for dinner with some friends further up the coast in Ichinomiya, returning with fresh tomatoes he intends to turn into pasta sauce.

The second rainy day finds Yukie in a more subdued state. She manages to pull herself out of bed by 1:00 in the afternoon, spending most of the day watching soap operas on the living room TV. Once his mother is up and moving, Sho discovers he’s a bit restless, unwilling to stay cooped up in the house.

He can smell whatever Matsumoto’s started cooking in his own kitchen, but he says nothing, simply borrowing one of the house’s umbrellas and heading out. With the sorry state of the weather, the beaches are totally empty. There’s a different feeling to Onjuku, a loneliness Sho can feel all the way to his bones as he walks along the deserted streets.

Somehow, his walk takes him back to Triple Kitchen. He knows that he’s intruding on something that’s absolutely none of his business, and yet like the itch of a mosquito bite, it’s hard to ignore it, put it out of his mind. The tent facing the beach is up but empty, and the restaurant itself faces out to the street. It’s small inside when Sho opens the door, setting off a friendly bell. Three tables, three seats at a counter. It’s nearly 2:00 PM and he’s the only customer, dropping his umbrella in the stand by the door.

The restaurant is simply appointed, the walls adorned with black-and-white photographs of Onjuku Beach. They look eerily similar to the ones hanging in Sho’s room back at the guest house.

Coming here might have been a big mistake.

Aiba emerges from a swinging door, a smile instantly crossing his face. “Sho-chan, good to see you!”

“Good afternoon to you.”

“Didn’t bring Mom today?”

He has a seat at the counter, shaking his head. “Nah, she had no interest in heading out in the rain.”

“I hope you don’t catch a cold,” Aiba says, standing on the other side of the counter where he’s got bottles of alcohol, a small refrigerator full of canned beer and what look like pre-packaged desserts.

“I should be alright.”

Aiba reaches down, pulling out a laminated sheet and handing it over. “I’m afraid we have a more abbreviated menu when we’re not outside.”

Sho shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll find something.”

Unlike the grilled specialties Aiba and his massive crew of young people serve outdoors, the menu indoors is a hodgepodge of odd things. Beef or vegetarian curry. Mapo tofu. A hamburger or cheeseburger Sho assumes will be prepared on a griddle rather than on one of Aiba’s large outdoor charcoal grills.

But there it is at the bottom of the menu.

“Outside you grill them, inside you steam them, I presume?” he says, pointing to the menu. The item is simply called ‘Clams Inside.’

Aiba grins. “We have a garlic white wine and cream sauce to go with them. You’ll love it.”

“Let’s go for it.”

Instead of the shouting he does outside, Aiba simply heads back through the door. Sho leans forward, looking through to find only one other person is in the kitchen. Aiba tells him in a calm voice to find “the biggest clams we’ve got today.”

He returns behind the counter, dragging over a stool so they can chat. “Anything to drink? I won’t charge you.”

Sho sighs. “I don’t need the guest house discount every time I come here. Let me pay the regular price.”

“You’re my third customer today,” Aiba teases him. “It’s the illustrious Third Customer Discount.”

Aiba won’t give up, and Sho reluctantly accepts a beer. He’s not terribly surprised when Aiba grabs a can for himself too. The entire place has a calm, relaxed vibe, and they sit and drink for a while.

He learns that Aiba’s been running his restaurant here for seven years, taking over from an uncle on his mother’s side. Before that he was a line cook at a restaurant his parents run elsewhere in Chiba. He’s seen competitors come and go as the summers have arrived in Onjuku, but Triple Kitchen is the last one standing.

“And before you ask, no, it’s not because the ladies wear crop tops,” Aiba declares, tapping his beer can against the counter. “It’s all about quality!”

Sho smiles. He tries not to show his disappointment since Aiba is not wearing his cropped tee today, but a regular t-shirt. “I agree with you.”

“Thank you very much.”

Sho explains that he’ll likely be returning tomorrow for dinner, rain or shine, since his sister and her fiance will be coming up from Wakayama. Aiba’s eyes widen with excitement. “Any customers coming from more than three prefectures away get the special Long Distance Discount!”

“Aiba-san…” Sho protests, unable to keep from laughing. How many discounts does this guy have? How does he even stay in business?

“Couple that with the Hidamari Guest House discount and the August Ladies discount, and it looks like your sister eats for free!”

“No, no, my mother will never allow this,” he replies.

“We’ll see about that. Let me go check on your food.”

Aiba heads to the kitchen, and Sho turns on his seat, taking in the photographs hanging on the wall. Unable to stifle his curiosity, he pulls out his phone, scrolling though the camera roll. He’d taken a few pictures of his room, and he isn’t surprised to see that the pictures inside the Triple Kitchen dining room are exactly the same as the ones inside his room (and perhaps other rooms) at the Hidamari Guest House.

So who is the photographer? Aiba Masaki? Or Matsumoto Jun? And what does it really mean?

He doesn’t have the courage to ask when Aiba returns a few minutes later with a massive plate full of clams. The garlic is pungent but perfect, and he doesn’t bother to hide his moan of pleasure after his first bite. Aiba laughs at him.

“Told you the sauce was good.”

“It’s not like I didn’t believe you,” he says, mouth still half-full.

Once Sho’s about halfway through his food, Aiba gets chatty again. “So how long are you staying?”

“Through the end of August. I’m a teacher, it’s my summer break.”

“A teacher!” Aiba looks like he’s about to say something more, but he bites his tongue.

Sho has a sip of beer, confused. “What? What is it?”

Aiba waves his hand in front of his face. “No, no, it’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t leave me in suspense.”

Aiba seems a little embarrassed. “I was going to say that Matsujun is probably excited to have a teacher in the house. Since he’s such a scholar lately. But that’s kind of mean. He gets angry when I say things like that.”

“A scholar?”

Aiba looks even more upset with himself. “He’s reading old books. Like historical books and stuff.”

“Ah. The Kojiki. He said so.”

“Right,” Aiba says. “Right, that’s his new hobby. Being an intellectual.”

They grow quiet again, Sho focusing on his food for a while. Finally Aiba seems like he has to say something or he’ll burst.

“I know you’re his guest,” Aiba blurts out, “but can you please tell him that I’m sorry?”

Sho stares at him, not sure what to say.

“I’m really and truly sorry. He’ll know what I’m talking about. Tell him that for me.”

Sho looks down, unsure. If he’s going to tell Jun what Aiba’s saying right now, it means that first he’ll have to tell Jun that he’s gone to Triple Kitchen. Again. Something that Aiba’s done has left Jun really upset. And how is that going to look when Sho goes back to the guest house with such a vague message? How is it going to look to Jun when he learns that Sho and Aiba were talking about him behind his back?

He’s now inserted himself in a conflict he has no business knowing about. This is Sho’s fault for overstepping boundaries. But Sho’s been overstepping and daydreaming from the moment he set foot in Onjuku, seeing Matsumoto Jun come out of the house in those clinging clothes, with that friendly smile.

He doesn’t say that Yukie will try and drag Jun to Triple Kitchen kicking and screaming once Maya and Daisuke arrive. He doesn’t say anything about the photographs on the wall that match the photographs at the house. He just nods.

“That’s all? Just tell him you’re sorry?”

Whatever argument the two men are having, they’re obviously not speaking to each other right now. Jun’s been avoiding Triple Kitchen, Aiba’s made no attempt to come to the house even though it’s likely that he must have done so before with some regularity. At least given how easily and familiarly Ohno-san spoke about him the other night. What’s come between the two friends?

“He won’t take my calls, he won’t reply to my messages. Maybe he’ll listen to a neutral party,” Aiba says, looking hopeful. “Thanks, Sho-chan. Sorry to drag you into all the drama.”

He keeps his mouth shut, doesn’t inquire about what that drama might be. He’s already caused enough trouble, done enough meddling for the day.

“These clams are really good,” he eventually admits, and the conversation finally drifts away from Matsumoto Jun.

/ / / / /

There’s six of them for dinner that night so they eat around the table in the living room rather than the small table in the kitchenette. Sho, his mother, Ohno, his parents, and Jun. The tomatoes Jun returned home with the day before have been used perfectly in the spaghetti bolognese, and everyone gathered has nothing but compliments for the chef.

His mother seems happy to finally have people to speak with of her own age. She’s spent the better part of the week with men around Sho’s age, and while that clearly gave her some energy, she seems almost relieved to have someone to complain about minor aches and pains with.

The men in their thirties mostly just eat their pasta and munch on their salad while Ohno’s father, in his seventies and still fishing, talks about his arthritis. Ohno’s mother talks about a bad back. Yukie murmurs in complete sympathy, describing how sensitive her teeth have become the last few years. It’s one complaint after another, and yet it seems like the laughs don’t stop. They’re sore, but they’re alive.

Ohno and his parents thank Jun for dinner. They arrived with some smoked fish, although Jun hadn’t wanted to accept it at first. Yukie invites the Ohno family to join them again before the month is up, and Sho hopes that maybe the older folks will all dine together separately. Sho doesn’t really like the image of sore, swollen joints when he’s trying to enjoy a meal.

Yukie is off to call Maya, to finalize everything for the days to come. What to bring, what to pack for the weather, what there is to do in the area. That leaves Sho alone with Jun again, cleaning up once more.

He waits until everything’s washed and dried before he breaches the topic.

“Matsujun, do you have a few minutes to talk?”

He receives a suspicious look in reply. “What’s wrong?”

“Why don’t we go upstairs, sit on the balcony?”

“Is it about your mom?”

“No.”

Jun looks torn between telling Sho no immediately and waiting for Sho to speak…and then telling him no. Instead, he gives in, clearly not wanting to upset a guest.

The balcony upstairs is screened-in, keeping the bugs out but letting the breeze in. The sun has long since set, and there’s not really enough moonlight or starlight to see the water in the distance. It’s still lightly drizzling when they close the door behind them. Jun flips a switch and the balcony is lit up by colorful light bulbs that he’s strung all along the walls, letting them see each other.

There’s a few folding chairs as well as an old couch that seems more comfortable. Sho sits at one end while Jun opens a bottle of red wine leftover from dinner. There’s nothing classy about it as Jun pours into a pair of plastic IKEA cups. He hands one to Sho before joining him, sitting at the other end of the sofa, lifting up his feet so he sits cross-legged, facing him.

The centerpiece of Matsumoto Jun’s balcony is a well-tended bonsai plant, perched neatly on a wooden bench. “Does your bonsai have a name?”

Jun rolls his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“The same thing everyone else does, being rude to my bonsai.” Jun gives him a serious glare that Sho now knows is all acting. “If you’re going to come out here, then you’ll treat her with respect.”

Sho chuckles. “It’s a lady bonsai, then?”

“Kogo-sama is a lady bonsai, yes.”

He smiles. Kogo-sama.

“Bit of an old-fashioned name.” He looks over at the gentle branches, the small green leaves. “But not surprising if her master likes to read the classics, I suppose.”

“She was a gift from a teacher,” Jun says. “Not a social studies teacher or anything.”

“You’re saying a social studies teacher can’t fully appreciate a bonsai?”

“I highly doubt it,” comes the arrogant reply, and Sho snorts into the plastic cup.

“And she lives here all year?”

“No. She goes where I go.”

“And where is that?” Sho remembers that Ninomiya-sensei had said Jun only runs his guest house a few months out of the year.

“Enough about Kogo-sama,” Jun snits. “You had something to say to me.”

Sho’s now under the full force of Jun’s dark, intense gaze, and he doesn’t dare delay, even if he knows that what he’s going to say may not be well-received. He doesn’t miss how quickly Jun dodged his question, wondering just where Jun goes when he’s not here by the sea.

“I had a late lunch at Triple Kitchen today.”

“I see.”

“Aiba-san asked me to say something to you.”

Jun’s clearly irritated, his lip curling in annoyance. “It’s got nothing to do with you. Why is he bothering you about this?”

“It’s not a bother,” Sho says quietly. “He only wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry. He didn’t say what for because he said you’d already know. He says you aren’t talking to him, so he thought if I relayed the message it would at least get to you. So there it is, that’s really all I had to say. Aiba-san is sorry.”

Jun doesn’t say anything, only lifting the half-empty wine bottle from the floor and adding more to his cheap plastic cup.

“I’m sorry for interfering in your business. I didn’t even realize there was a problem. But whatever’s happened, he’s sorry for it. I…I know my Mom wants you to come with us if we take Maya and Daisuke to Triple Kitchen. If there’s still…some sort of problem, don’t force yourself to go…”

“I’ll go if she wants me to go…”

“Matsujun, you don’t have to.”

“My problem with Masaki doesn’t need to be a problem for my guests,” Jun says sharply. “So I’ll thank you not to involve your mother or any of your family members in my business. Can I trust you to do that?”

Sho’s stunned. It’s the most serious he’s seen his host since he arrived. Whatever Aiba did, Jun’s clearly still hurting because of it.

“Of course. Of course, sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Sho-san. Consider your duty done. You’ve relayed his message, and we don’t have to talk about it any longer.”

Sho frowns, wanting to apologize again. He’d rather have the arrogant Matsumoto back, the Matsumoto who jokes about social studies teachers not having the ability to fully appreciate a bonsai. He drinks, takes a long, vulgar gulp.

“I’ll be picking up my sister around 5:00 PM tomorrow,” he says once Jun seems to calm a little. He supposes the wine is helping. “Then I’ll be leaving on Monday morning for my meetings. I think I’ll be back Wednesday night, if that’s alright.”

“Sounds fine, not a problem.”

He looks down, staring at his fingernails. “I can move my things. In my room I mean. I imagine…I imagine you’ll be wanting to clean in there more thoroughly while I’m away so…”

“Sho-san, you are a very troublesome guest.”

He looks up, sees that Jun’s sly, intoxicating smile has returned to his handsome face. He’d had a lot of wine during dinner, and their upstairs chat has only allowed him to keep going.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been here a week, and you still haven’t managed to relax. I feel like I’ve done something wrong, something to trouble or offend you, but I have no idea what.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong!”

Jun chuckles. “Ssh, you don’t have to shout.”

“Sorry.” He takes a breath. He can’t exactly say to Jun that total relaxation is utterly impossible when he’s around. Because he’s stupidly hot. “Sorry if I’ve given you that impression. I like it here. A lot. I really do.”

“Even though I know weird fishermen who bring their parents over and let them dominate the dinner conversation with talk about arthritis and constipation? Even though my idiot friend is trying to use you to relay his half-assed apologies?” Jun leans forward a little, grinning. “Even though I have pretentious hobbies?”

“I like that you have pretentious hobbies.”

Jun clucks his tongue, lifting the wine bottle and pouring more for each of them. “Sho-san, for shame. You were supposed to say ‘No, Matsujun, your interests are normal and not at all worth laughing at.’ I’m disappointed.”

He knows that he’s blushing, and it’s not just because of the wine. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean…”

Jun rests his hand on the back of the sofa, only inches away from Sho. “I’m just messing with you. Normal people don’t read the Kojiki for fun.”

Sho stumbles. “I…I don’t know if I’m supposed to agree with you or if you’re just laying another trap for me.”

“You know why I like you? Because you’re so easy to tease. Do you let your students take advantage of your good nature like this?”

He narrows his eyes, not daring to let the words ‘why I like you’ alter his determination. “Contrary to what you may think, I’m actually a pretty strict teacher. I strike fear into the hearts of many a fourteen year old.”

Jun’s smile widens. “Oh yes, yes I can see that. You’re the type that likes pop quizzes.”

“And lots of homework,” Sho insists.

“You always call on the kids who haven’t done the reading. You have a psychic sense, and they hate you for it. Sakurai-sensei, what a total bastard!”

“My philosophy of teaching is that it’s better to be feared than to be loved.”

“Machiavelli!” Jun says instantly, unconsciously licking his lips, the foreign syllables slipping so easily off his tongue.

Sho has another sip from his cup, trying not to get turned on by their strange conversation, the lies and exaggerations they’re spouting in their half-drunken states. Jun smiles at him, and Sho gets just a little more lost in what he’s feeling.

Are they talking?

Are they flirting?

Sho’s so out of practice that he can’t tell the difference any longer.

Jun empties the bottle into Sho’s cup, tapping the bottom to give him every last little drop. “You’re actually a super nice teacher. Aren’t you, Sho-san?”

He chuckles, reddening easily. “Yeah…”

“You go back to Tokyo, and do your thing. We’ll be waiting for you to come back. And I won’t move your stuff. Promise.”

He holds up his near-empty cup. “Thank you for trusting me enough to introduce me to Kogo-sama. She’s a very majestic bonsai.”

Jun knocks his cup against his, beaming, eyes bright. “Damn right she is.”

/ / / / /

Yukie has a rough morning, but rebounds by the time Sho has to leave for the JR station. His sister greets him with an enthusiastic hug, the cheerful Daisuke following right at her heels with treats from Wakayama, a massive tub of umeboshi that takes up an entire backpack.

“I can’t believe they let you on the train with that,” he chides his sister, and she reaches up to ruffle his hair.

“They’re for our host!”

The quiet of the last few days is broken as Maya and Daisuke pile into Sho’s car for the trip back to the guest house. Maya, grateful for a few days’ break from her hectic job at the law firm, enters the house in a whirlwind. “Mom! Mom, it’s me! I’m here!”

“Be quiet, would ya? You’re a real pain,” Sho teases her, Daisuke laughing as he toes off his sneakers in the genkan.

Yukie comes down the stairs. “Daisuke! My Daisuke is here!” she cries jokingly, opening her arms to her future son-in-law just to give noisy Maya a hard time.

As the greetings continue, Sho starts bringing the bags upstairs. Jun is there, arms full of towels. “And I thought Nagase-kun was noisy,” Jun jokes.

Maya and Daisuke will be in another room with an en-suite bathroom, closer to the stairwell. He lingers in the hall while Jun provides them with a key to lock the door, shows them how the tub and shower work. He talks them through what they can borrow from the shed to use at the beach, tells them about options in the area.

Daisuke asks about surfing and immediately Jun volunteers to go out on the waves with him. Sho is stupidly jealous for a handful of seconds, only to realize that he could have probably asked Jun to surf any time in the past week. He’d only gone with Nagase because Nagase had invited him.

The noise heads back downstairs, and Yukie is waiting in the kitchenette. Sho can’t help but laugh at the sight of the massive tub of umeboshi dominating the dining table.

“Hungry? Are you hungry after your trip?” Yukie asks, her spirits higher than they’d been that morning.

Sho has always liked Daisuke because they both have big appetites in common. So he isn’t surprised when Daisuke pats his slightly round belly, nodding. “Definitely hungry.”

“When’s the sunset?” Yukie asks, looking to Jun. “Jun-kun, are we still going to be okay?”

“It’s about 5:45 right now,” Jun says, checking his watch. “Should be setting around…6:30? 6:40 tonight I think?”

Yukie’s eyes widen. “Then we don’t have a moment to lose! Come on, come on, we have to go eat. He closes at sunset!”

“The place on the beach you mentioned? The barbecue place?” Maya asks, eyes excited, and Sho watches Jun’s expression grow a bit more serious.

“Triple Kitchen,” Yukie says. “Let’s all go. Hurry, let’s go. Jun-kun, let me get my wallet. Let me just get my wallet, and you can lock up. Ah, should we call Satoshi-kun?”

“Yukie-san,” Jun tries to protest, but she’s already heading for the stairs. And now the friendly Daisuke - patent lawyer by day, glutton by night - is standing close by his side, asking what’s the best thing on the menu. Like a good host, all Jun can do is answer.

“Daisuke-san, everything is amazing there.”

“Well what if we order one of everything and share?” Maya asks. “Or is Nii-san gonna eat all the clams like he usually does?”

“I can share just fine,” Sho grumbles.

Yukie returns, double checking the amount of cash in her wallet. “Only my money counts tonight. I’m treating my children. And that includes you, Matsumoto Jun-kun.”

Jun looks a bit embarrassed, clearly wanting to stay behind but unable to tell them why. He had asked Sho specifically not to bring his troubles with Aiba outside of their personal conversation, so there’s nothing Sho can do to help him either.

They lock up the house, and get moving to the beach. Maya and Daisuke stand on either side of Yukie, blabbing about their long trip. Three trains. Their chatter is almost obnoxious after so many quiet, rainy days in Onjuku. Most people are already packing up at the beach, grabbing their things and heading for their cars or the train back to Tokyo. Only their noisy entourage is setting out for the beach now.

They make it to the Triple Kitchen line by 6:15. Yukie moves to the front. “Aiba-san,” she declares, “I’ve brought more people. Don’t close until you’ve fed us.”

“I’d stay open until midnight for the Sakurai family,” Aiba says, bowing his head to her. When he lifts his head again, Sho sees the shock in his eyes. Even though Jun is doing his best to hide behind tall Daisuke, he’s not entirely successful. “Well, let’s get those orders in.”

This time Sho opts for the lobster tail. Jun’s order is half-mumbled, but Aiba manages to keep it together, calling out an order of three chicken skewers. Yukie and Aiba argue back and forth, back and forth about discounts and payments. In the end, they all receive free drinks, but Yukie insists on paying for the rest of the food herself.

As the sun starts to head off, they dig in, the five of them lined up all along the counter. There’s a last call for food, but one of the servers comes by and tells them they can take as long as they want to eat since Aiba’s crew needs time to clean up and shut down for the night anyway.

Sho can’t help but stand beside Jun, watching his reactions. Thankfully Aiba doesn’t come over, spends most of the minutes taking final orders before closing up the cash register and bringing the money drawer inside the restaurant.

The lobster tail is amazing, and he shuts his eyes, enjoying each bite along with the sound of the waves crashing along the shore. At this time tomorrow he’ll already be back in his apartment. No ocean sounds. No Hidamari Guest House.

Time has really seemed to slow down the last week. Without work and commuting taking up so much of his day, his life has been really different. He’s gone for long swims, long walks. He’s eaten his weight in seafood (or at least it’s felt that way). He’s made new friends. He’s never vacationed like this before. He’s always worked hard to cram in as much as possible when traveling, hitting all the spots he can because there’s always the possibility that he’ll never be able to return. But this week at Hidamari Guest House has been unscheduled, impulsive. Everything that Sho is not.

Slowly the outdoor grilling tent shuts down. Workers pack up, hugs and handshakes and “see you tomorrow”s are exchanged. Soon enough it’s just the five of them on one side of the counter, a couple on the other side just finishing up their beers. Aiba takes their mugs when they finish, bringing them inside. The couple leaves, which means that Aiba is only waiting on them.

He returns to the tent, looking tired after his long day, but the same smile is there. “Well, Sakurai family and Sakurai extended family. Everything good tonight?”

Aiba steps back in an exaggerated fashion, holding out his arms as their compliments come flying at him in quick succession. What Sho doesn’t expect is for Aiba to take advantage of the neutral audience to leave Jun in a bind.

“Matsujun, can you stay a little bit when you guys are done? I had something to tell you.”

Sho can see Jun’s jaw clench, but he can’t otherwise react without confusing his guests. “Yeah, sure…”

“But he has to let us into the house,” Sho interjects, trying to throw Jun a lifeline, to avoid a conversation he still doesn’t seem ready to have. It’s a little unfair what Aiba’s doing.

Sho’s lifeline doesn’t work. Jun digs in his pocket, puts the keys on the counter. “It’s fine. You can go ahead without me.”

Yukie, still oblivious, finds no fault with this. “Thanks, Jun-kun. Let’s go for a walk before it gets too dark out.”

Sho looks between Jun and Aiba for a moment before taking the keys. “See you back at the house,” he says.

They mostly walk so they can go to a convenience store and buy ice cream, and they make it back to the house before Jun. They sit together in the living room, TV tuned to a variety show nobody’s really watching. Instead they catch up on things they’ve missed since Maya has been gone. Sho’s mother asks after Daisuke’s family, and like the lawyer he is, he rambles on and on about this and that.

Daisuke and Maya decide to go to bed around 10:00 after their long day of travel, and Yukie joins them. Maya lingers for a moment, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a hug. She kisses his cheek and whispers to him. “I’ve got her now, Nii-san. You’ve worked hard this week. I’ll make sure she takes her pills.”

“Thanks.”

Maya squeezes him tight. “Mom said that Matsumoto-kun is single.”

“Go upstairs,” he grumbles, and she pokes his cheek before running off.

Sho stays, keeping the TV on low and browsing through some of the magazines Jun subscribes to for his guests. A men’s fashion magazine. A gardening magazine. A few entertainment magazines. Nothing registers, and he barely reads anything, glancing at photos and growing nervous the later it gets. He eventually gives up on the magazines, turns off the lights, sits slumped on the couch with the glow of the TV, some medical drama full of jargon going in one ear and out the other.

It’s after midnight when Jun comes in the door. He sees Sho on the couch and looks apologetic.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me. I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t want to lock the door until you got back. It’s fine.”

Jun sighs, speaking quietly. “I should have told you I keep a spare key in one of my flower pots.”

“Everything okay?” Sho asks, knowing that Jun had pointedly asked him not to concern himself any further with his personal life. But he’s been gone five hours.

“Yeah. Yeah I guess so.”

Jun doesn’t look happy. But he doesn’t look sad. He just looks tired.

“You have to drive tomorrow, Sho-san. Go to bed.” His expression softens a bit. “We’ll be fine here. But if you want, I can call you, let you know how things go.”

No, Sho thinks. He has to trust Jun. Has to trust Maya and Daisuke. Sho knows that he’s stubborn, that he can be particular especially when it comes to Yukie’s health. But the three people in the house with her have her best interests in mind, and he knows it. He can go home without worrying.

“You only need to call me if there’s an emergency. It’s fine.”

He gets to his feet, looking between the sofa cushions for the remote. He turns the TV off, and now the only light is the one Jun’s put on in the hall where he came in. Sho heads for the stairs, and Jun lingers close by, hand on the bannister.

“I’m sorry for being so rude to you. About everything with Aiba-kun,” Jun says. “It won’t happen again.”

Because you’re my guest, Sho presumes. And not for any other reason.

“Good night, Matsujun.”

Jun’s smile squeezes his heart. “Good night, Sho-san. Sleep well. And come back soon.”

Part Four