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“Tsukasa, can I please ask you to come by and bring an umbrella? The sky is falling here.”
Tenma Yuka usually plans her days very meticulously. When she wakes up, before she starts her bathing procedures, she goes to her vanity and picks up a diary. She writes down the date, the weather and whether she rested well or not. Then, she writes a list of things she has to do, sometimes with extra details, such as when exactly she needs to do something and how much time it will take. Only after all of this, Mrs Tenma can start getting ready for her day.
And today wasn't supposed to be anything special. She didn't have any piano tutoring today, so her plans were just cleaning and going out for groceries. Kids have been craving curry these days, and they haven’t stocked up on meat recently. She still had her coupons, too, so she could get more for half the price – meat is so expensive nowadays! But kids need to eat healthy to properly grow.
‘Come to think of it, Tsukasa also asked to buy some food colouring and white chocolate. I shouldn’t forget to add it to my cart.’
She didn't pay attention to the weather forecast today, since the sky was cloudless in the morning. She also didn’t check her coupons twice to see that they had expired just yesterday.
She couldn't get her hands on the last batch of a high quality ground beef, so she had to settle for ground chicken. Her kids aren't that picky, for which she is forever grateful to them. She can't help but feel disappointed that she can't make the perfect curry her family really wanted. A small inconvenience like that was enough to make Mrs Tenma’s mood sour significantly.
And to rub salt in the wound, the rain decided to fall on her head.
Just an hour ago, the sky was clear, and the sun was shining brightly, bringing a nice change to the usual gloomy February weather. And then, in the most heinous act of betrayal, the gigantic and dark raincloud swallowed the sky whole and poured so much water out of itself.
“DO NOT FRET, DEAR MOTHER! YOUR FIRSTBORN SON WILL COME AND RESCUE YOU THIS INSTANT!” The frantic voice of her son pierced through the noise of rain, spooking some cats who were also finding shelter under the supermarket's roof. There were noises of floor squeaking, things falling and a very loud “ouch!”, probably meant that Tsukasa crashed into something while running around. Hearing her son bumble a bit on the phone brought a smile to Yuka’s lips. No matter what, her boy always manages to make people feel better.
At her left, there were some cracking noises of a plastic bag and someone’s shoes clicking and then halting almost immediately.
“Oh, farts. It's raining cats and dogs.”
A woman, a fellow housewife, it seemed, was standing beside Mrs Tenma. Her brown hair was tied in a weak ponytail, and she was wearing an oversized shirt under funky-looking green overalls. Her clothes were still slightly wrinkly – not a lot of effort was put into ironing the laundry, it seemed. Yuka could empathise. She wasn't the biggest fan of this chore as well, especially while having two energetic kids. But this woman looked more like someone who would rather run 10 laps than iron a shirt properly. She looked both younger than her age would have suggested but also a bit worn down with time — her face especially gave it away. A nice-looking face but decorated with wrinkles: creases near her eyes and on her forehead, but no laugh lines. A woman who has spent her life worrying over something.
It takes approximately 15 minutes to get from Tenma residence to this supermarket. Tsukasa is probably rushing and frantically searching for an umbrella — when he’s in a rush, he tends to miss things that are right under his nose, and Saki isn’t there to help out; she’s out for practice. So it will probably take 20 minutes.
Yuka threw another glance at the woman nearby. Other customers scurried under the rain, with umbrellas and raincoats protecting them from getting wet.
‘I have nothing else to do anyway. Might as well talk with her.’
Yuka moved a bit closer to the woman and let out a heavy and very loud, dejected sigh.
“And the weather was so nice this morning… I hope it lets up soon.” Tenma starts nonchalantly, without any special greetings or pleasantries. She sneaks a little peek at the woman, trying to measure up her reaction, trying not to act too obvious. The beauty of small talk is that you don’t need to make any preambles; you just need to hope that your receiver is in the right mood.
Thankfully, the woman was in the right mood. She sighed heavily and turned her head to Mrs Tenma.
“Tell me about it. Today was such a hassle already, and now this!” She threw her arm that wasn't holding a bag in the air. Her eyebrow twitched a bit as well, betraying her overall calm composure. She didn’t elaborate on what kind of hassle she had to go through today, but it’s probably not polite to pry right now. The woman looked really tired, and Yuka felt a wave of sympathy wash over her heart.
“I asked my son to bring an umbrella,” she said, standing a bit closer to her companion, “If you want, I can ask him to get a second one for you.”
The woman was caught off guard by the proposal but smiled warmly.
“Thank you, but please don't worry about me. I also asked my son to bring an umbrella. I just hope he gets here soon.”
Yuka smiled widely in return and got even closer to her rainswept neighbour. An opportunity to talk about their children, nothing brings married women closer!
“Oh, you have a son, too! How old is he?”
“He’s 17. He’ll be graduating this year.”
“Just like mine! What are the odds?”
“Well, you know what they say about the odds: they are never zero,” the woman raised her free hand, offering a handshake, “my name is Chiharu. Nice to meet you.”
Yuka enthusiastically took the hand and shook it almost too vigorously. She immediately felt the rough texture of the skin, so dry it could almost cut. There was a small bump on the inside of Chiharu’s palm that felt strikingly different from her skin. It reminded her of a burn scar that Saki got as a child, when she got her hand a little too close to a campfire.
‘I guess she doesn’t like working with gloves on?’ Yuka thought with worry. ‘Maybe I can lend her some of the hand creams to help with dryness’
She peeks inside Chiharu’s bag and notices that it’s filled to the brim with meat. Ground beef, short ribs, sausages, chicken breast and thighs…it’s as if this lady has bought the whole aisle!
“Are you planning for a barbecue perhaps?” She asked a bit tentatively
“Hm?” Chiharu looked a bit confused with a question, but after Yuka focused on a bag with her eyes, she blushed slightly, getting a bit embarrassed being caught with what seemed like a month's worth of meat. “Ah, no…” Chiharu smiled a bit awkwardly, trying to hide the groceries behind her back, “My son is a bit of a picky eater… He doesn’t eat vegetables at all.”
Yuka covered her mouth in shock, “Eh? At all?! Even at such an age?”
Chiharu winced at that and shook her head in resignation: “We tried everything. We hid carrots inside meat rolls, and he just picked them out of there. I blended broccoli into a sauce or smoothies, and he still refused to eat. One day, he even tried to filter them out of the sauce with a special vegetable filtering machine that he made just for this purpose! We just had to lose this battle.”
Such an absurd story! Do children like that truly exist? But the mortified expression on Chiharu’s face looked so genuine, Yuka had to force herself to stop laughing, lest she’d offend her new friend.
“Well, my son also has a vegetable problem.” She put a hand on Chiharu’s shoulder and patted it softly, “just with green peppers though…”
Chiharu sighed again and looked wistfully at the sky. The rain was still going strong, and there was no sign of clearing up. “Raising a son is so hard sometimes,” she mused, sounding more like she was talking to herself, “Sometimes I can’t even figure out what my boy is thinking about.” A frown formed on her face, and on the first glance, it looked like Chiharu was berating her child, “Can you imagine? He gets so caught up in his ideas and daydreams that he closes himself in his room, tinkering all night long! Or he would leave for school and come back from it covered in confetti and sparkles. Says he: ‘celebrated the birthday of a dear friend with a celebratory canon.’” Yuka just nodded along, making sure to fill the gaps with ‘uh-huh’s and ‘no way’s. Somewhere inside of her mind, an inner voice told her that Chiharu couldn’t be piping up about these antics. Something about her overall presence told her that this mother is also a bit of an oddball with strange antics. She doesn’t say this out loud.
“Tell me about it,” Yuka starts recalling all the situations Tsukasa tends to find himself in, “mine is usually like an open book, but there are days when he gets caught up in something, and I can’t make sense of it. One day, he came back home covered in flour and feathers and refused to elaborate. He looked like a little gloomy dusty raincloud the whole day!”
Chiharu giggled at the comparison, “It sounds like your son is usually as bright as our one and only sun.”
“Indeed, he is! He is aiming to be the world's brightest star.” Yuka puffed her chest with pride.
“A star, huh? So your son is into the arts? Mine as well, he's doing theatre.”
“What a wonderful coincidence, so is mine! Is your boy an actor?”
“Most of the time, yes, but his true passion lies in directing. And he's quite good if I say so myself.”
Excitement took over Yuka, with so many scenarios already being created in her mind. “Maybe we should introduce our sons to each other! It would be a nice exchange of experience for them.”
Chiharu feigned contemplating this idea and then nodded in agreement, “Sounds nice! Let’s exchange phone numbers.”
Slowly, their conversation kept flowing into more details: talking about their least favourite chores and what kind of dinner they are going to make today. About a cat that has been sleeping on the household’s porch recently, and hyacinths that have been blooming in their family garden. About their husbands and what was the last romantic thing they did. Chiharu said that recently her spouse made her a beautiful desk lamp that looks like a dragonfly, which also functions as a virtual assistant, with both her husband's and her son's voices being recorded for it. Yuka thought it was a nice gift, even if she needed to hide her shiver at the mention of a bug.
They got so engulfed in their talk that they didn’t even notice that a downpour turned into a light drizzle.
Yuka was enjoying her company. It felt like a long while since she had talked with someone like that, about everything and nothing at all. It felt blissful and almost carefree. Like it was 20 years ago, two schoolgirls went to the grocery store on their way home to buy snacks, and their banter and laughter filled the street with youthful glee.
But there was one question she was very eager to ask. A personal question that might be too direct to ask of someone she just met. But it was something really important, something that was eating her away since Tsukasa turned fourteen. She took a shaky breath and decided to be brave.
“Can I ask you a question, as mother to mother?”
“Of course.”
“How do you know that your child likes someone?”
Chiharu got caught off guard once again. Her eyes rounded in surprise, looking a bit like an owl’s. Yuka was ready to apologise and take it back, but Chiharu nodded lightly, prompting her to continue on.
She twirled some loose hair that was sticking out of her bun, “I mean… I always thought he wasn't interested in romance and all… He always says that his dream comes first and relationships next, which makes me worry…”
“Who wouldn’t be worried? He might be a bit of a show freak.” Chiharu winced at her own lack of tact, hoping that Yuka wouldn’t get offended. “Mine is just the same, though,” she adds quickly.
“Right? Well, recently he’s been more into his thoughts. And when I catch him daydreaming, he gets all flustered, as if I found him with his hand in a cookie jar.”
She doesn’t even remember Tsukasa trying to sneak the cookies out of the cookie jar. This was such a new territory for her.
“And he’s been asking me what his dad did for me for Valentine's, what kind of gifts he gave. Even asked me to bake a chocolate lava cake with him!”
“Well, I don’t think you need my opinion on this, do you?” Chiharu shifted a bit awkwardly, “He’s clearly smitten with someone.” And he hides it very poorly
“Yes, but… how can you be sure it’s not a very deep friendship?!”
Chiharu decided not to answer this question, instead just opting to softly sigh and look at her companion with nothing but patient understanding. She’s so funny, this Yuka. Such a peculiar creature.
Yuka kept rambling about how her son brought his friends home more often, how all three of them could be a potential romantic interest. The words “marriage, “grandkids, and “mortgage” started to occasionally pop up in her speech, and Chiharu would gently remind her that it’s a bit too early to think about these things. It would be Yuka for at least a minute, after which she’d again start worrying about weddings, cakes, tuxedos and flowers. Chiharu couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, while also offering her own ideas just for fun. Yes, the wedding at the amusement park would be nice. How about adding canons that shoot flowers? Too much? Then what about a big flying drone that shoots cupcakes to guests? They were orchestrating the whackiest wedding the world has ever seen — with ‘Ode to Joy’ played on a piano by Aoyagi Harumichi (‘isn’t he Japan’s most renowned pianist?’) and a pegasus made of flowers adorning the aisle. They didn’t decide on a date, but they did agree that the wedding had to be in the summer. Yuka promised to invite Chiharu as a special VIP guest.
Then all of a sudden her face turned melancholic. Yuka’s imaginative dreamscape was halted, followed by silence, uncharacteristic and slightly alarming.
“My son is a very good boy,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “he’s responsible, he’s kind, he puts others before himself. And he has such a bright personality. He never had trouble making friends.”
In this moment, bubbly and bright Yuka turned into a completely different woman. She looked sad and almost guilty, her shoulders sagging, like someone put a very large boulder on her back and made her carry it until the end of days. The light atmosphere now shifted, becoming a bit heavier to handle.
Yuka lowered her eyes, fixing them on her shoes instead of facing Chiharu, and her voice became a bit quieter, “When he was little, I pushed a responsibility on him that was far bigger than a child should ever bear. Our family was facing hard times, and I started to rely on him more and more…”
With each word, she shrank more and more. A little bit further, and she would have disappeared like a fickle flame of a candle.
“He never complained, never said no. He always did everything he could. Because he’s a good son. A good brother.”
‘Why does she say this with so much regret?’ Chiharu couldn’t make any sense of all of this. But she couldn’t brace herself to interrupt her companion now. She nodded along, letting Yuka know that she was listening.
Something stung in Yuka’s eyes, and she blinked them hard, trying to force out the tears she didn’t deserve to shed. “But because of my actions, he now thinks he can’t be weak in front of anyone. If something upsets him or when he feels hurt and alone, he would never tell. He’d just smile and say he can handle it himself.”
Slowly, it all started to make sense to Chiharu. It sounded so familiar, so painfully familiar, she could easily imagine the bittersweet smile and dim gaze, looking somewhere else but never in the eyes. A hunched posture and soft voice, saying that it’s ‘alright’, that it’s ‘okay’ to be unloved.
She could imagine her own son oh so clearly.
Yuka rubbed her eyes hastily, pretending that something got stuck in them. Her voice got a bit shaky.
“I’m afraid. I feel like he would never ever tell anyone he likes someone because he’d think it would burden someone. He makes those big gestures, but people treat them as his quirks, not his true feelings. And he would rather keep it that way than risk getting his heart broken.”
There was a pause, an uncomfortably long pause. Neither of the women filled the silence: Yuka was too caught up with her worries she finally let out and Chiharu was failing to find the words that could properly comfort her. Because she had the same thoughts. Felt the same fears. And she doesn’t know how to quell them.
Yuka tried to fix her hair that didn’t need any fixing. She wasn’t looking at Chiharu anymore. “Ah, I’m so sorry, Chiharu-san.” Yuka tried to laugh it off, but it came out painfully forced. “I completely ruined the mood, didn’t I?”
Chiharu just stood silently, her lips shut in a tight line. She wanted to comfort her friend, to tell her something reassuring so that this heavy expression would leave her face. But she couldn’t promise her something she’s not certain will ever happen.
But maybe, she can help put her mind at ease.
“For a long time, my son was completely alone.”
Yuka stilled and looked back at Chiharu, listening attentively.
“He was blessed with great intellect and boundless imagination. Anything his mind would come up with, he was always able to turn into reality.” She had a smile on her face, remembering all those wonderful robots her son made from scratch and all those show ideas he wrote in his old raggedy notebook. Moments like this reminded her just how truly blessed she was: her son, a child who had a heart so kind and big, a mind that couldn’t be understood by many and restricted by anyone.
“But other children didn’t see those as blessings.”
She always believed that you can’t blame the children for the cruelty they possess. It’s never the result of their nature being crooked or of them being born evil. It’s a result of an oversight, a poor role model, or even neglect. But it was hard not to be resentful, no matter how rational you’re trying to be. It’s hard to be understanding when, in the end, it’s your child who’s getting hurt.
“Nobody wanted to play with him or even stand near him. He had only two people in his life, who he could call friends and even with them, he would sometimes fall out of contact.”
Watching him grow, watching him distance himself from the world, felt like losing him. No amount of love she poured into her son could have made up for the connections he never got to have. She knew that very well, but she wanted to protect him no matter what.
“I will never forget one day, when he came back from school, and his eyes looked so lifeless and hollow. I was already aware that the middle school was turning out rough for him. That it wasn’t anything he expected or hoped for. And when I tried to cheer him up, to tell him that there definitely will be someone who will accept him. He told me: ‘I stopped hoping a long time ago.’”
That day flashed in front of her eyes. Her son’s figure was drenched after coming home in the heavy rain. His hair fell over his eyes, obscuring the muddy golden orbs. Slouched, defeated posture and a bitter smile, put on a face just to make it look like he wasn’t hurting.
“I felt like I failed him. Sometimes, I see those eyes in my dreams, and I always wake up crying.”
She hears Yuka coming closer again and, on the periphery of her vision, notices a hand reaching out but stopping midway. Chiharu looks back and sees a scrunched-up face, holding back tears, shaking like a sad little dog. All she lacked were floppy yellow ears.
Chiharu put a hand on Yuka’s back, patting it gently in reassurance. “And now, my son has wonderful friends, and I know they would move mountains for my son. They taught him how to dream again, how to hope.” In a second, Yuka’s face turned from teary to awed, much to Chiharu’s delight. She squinted her eyes and smiled cheekily. “He even has a very special person in his life who helped him change. And I know that he wants to stay by this person’s side as long as possible. The way he talks about them, how he beams with joy every time he gets to meet them — all of this told me much more than any words could.”
She tries to imagine the person who caught her son’s heart like this. She never got to learn their name, but she hopes this someone is just as bright and a little bit weird, just like her boy. She hopes that this person will always remain in Rui's life.
Chiharu notices another stray hair on Yuka’s hair and reaches to fix it herself. “They never tell you they fall in love. But you know it nonetheless,” she says a bit absentmindedly, focusing a bit too much on her task. “You can see it on their faces. And as parents, it’s our responsibility to help them be brave. To support them even at the darkest times. To take their hand and guide them when they feel scared.” She finishes fixing Yuka’s hair, and both women decide to finally check the weather.
The drizzle had come to a stop, and sun rays started to break through the clouds. Both women peeked out of the supermarket’s roof, checking with their hands if the rain was still sneakily dropping. In the distance, the sound of shoes running on wet pavement and splashing the puddles could be heard getting closer and closer.
“MOTHER!!!” An ear-piercing voice rang out, “I HAVE COME TO SAVE YOU!!!”
“Are you okay, Mom?” Another voice, calm and mellow, followed, “I brought you your coat so you would warm up a bit.”
Two boys were standing in front of them, one blond and one purple. They both carried umbrellas in their hands and were slightly out of breath after running all the way here to pick up their mothers.
Yuka and Chiharu looked first at the boys and then at each other. Then again, with the boys. And then again at each other.
“Isn’t that Rui-kun? A director of Wonderlands x Showtime?” Yuka asked, pointing at the boy with a cat-like grin.
“And this one, isn’t that Tenma Tsukasa?” Chiharu pointed at the loud boy, “The chairman of Wonderlands x Showtime?”
The boys looked at each other, confused.
“Chiharu-san, I think I never got your full name. Could you please tell me?”
“Kamishiro Chiharu. Can I ask yours, Yuka-san?”
“Tenma Yuka.”
A realisation finally set in, and both women let out loud, synchronised gasps. They dropped their bags on the ground and clasped their hands, excitement radiating from them.
“So you’re Tsukasa-kun’s mother?! Rui has been talking non-stop about him!”
“And my Tsukasa talks about Rui-kun almost daily!”
They switched their focus to boys, now blushing and avoiding looking at each other. They were standing a bit dumbfounded, fidgeting with umbrellas, now totally useless. They approached their sons and immediately started bombarding them with questions, basically in unison:
“Tsukasa-kun, it’s so nice to meet you! Can you please tell me, when you got covered in flour, was that because of Rui?”
“Rui-kun, you should come to dinner someday! I’ll make you the Tenma special veggieless curry.”
The questions kept going and going, and the boys had almost no space to interject. Tsukasa was getting scarily red, his eyes spiralling. He couldn’t get any word out without stumbling on every consonant. Rui wasn’t faring any better, caught completely off guard, his speech was also filled with uncharacteristic stutters.
“You’ve been waiting here for quite some while. How about we all go home, and then we’ll answer all of your questions?” Rui chuckled nervously.
“Y-yeah!” Tsukasa piped up, “You need to warm up and rest! What if you two catch a cold!!!” He hurried to pick up dropped bags, immediately showing the meat-filled one into Rui’s hands. He then took his mother under the arm and bowed in perfect 90 degrees towards Chiharu, “It was such a pleasure to meet you, Kamishiro-san! Please forgive our hasty departure!” He blurted out and rushed to take them out of the scene, tugging his mother before she could ask anything more.
They walked for a good five minutes in total silence, with Tsukasa still looking a bit flustered. But mother’s curiosity wasn’t that easily quelled.
“So, was that boy the very same Kamishiro Rui-kun of whom I heard so many stories?”
Tsukasa turned his head to look at his mother. The blush was still on his cheeks.
“The very same! The world’s most brilliant director, most worthy of guiding this future star to his glory!” Tsukasa boasted proudly, his face practically glowing out of sheer glee that his mother recognised his dear friend, “It must have been the miraculous twist of fate that you’ve managed to meet him today.”
“Indeed it was,” she giggled. The irony of Tsukasa saying this despite practically dragging her away from Rui was quite funny for her, ”He seems like a polite boy. Quite different from what you described.”
He gasped, offended and betrayed, “Those lips uttered no lie! He did try to dunk me in a tank full of water, thinking it would make for a good show! He still hasn't let go of that idea!”
Tsukasa then went on a long rant about every misadventure he had to endure because of the boy with purple hair. She now knows the reason why Tsukasa came back home covered in flour and with feathers sticking out of his head. She learned about Rui’s talents in gardening and how he manages to grow beautiful flowers every season. She knows that his eyes crinkle when Rui comes up with an idea, that he lowers his head a bit when Rui feels sad. His habit of humming songs when he’s working, his beautiful handwriting, his love for platypuses — Yuka managed to learn all of that in a span of several minutes, and all from her own son, who was holding an encyclopedic knowledge about everything Kamishiro Rui.
And while he was speaking, he was making a face Yuka had never seen before.
She has seen a lot of smiles from Tsukasa that she now knows how to tell them apart. A big, toothy smile was always reserved for Saki every time she did something that made Tsukasa proud. A cheeky, almost foxy one appeared on his face when he was being full of himself. Wide and friendly smile — for devoted supporters of their trope. But this smile was different. It was small, just a slight tug of the corners, but it was also gentle. It felt precious and even fragile, like a thing she was never really supposed to see, but she was still let in on a secret.
‘You can see it on their faces.’
“Also, Mom,” Tsukasa asked shyly, “can you help me with the cake today? I want to give it to Rui.”
And with this, Yuka’s worries melted away.
Today didn’t go as planned from the very beginning. So many things went wrong, so many plans were fumbled.
And yet today, Tenma Yuka thought that she was the happiest mother in the whole world.