3.10: A Fixer-Upper

3.10: A Fixer-Upper

I left the grocery store without buying anything for myself.

That was the sensible choice. If I bought my own things now, I’d only be carrying more weight than necessary while helping Ayaka with hers, and if I picked up anything perishable, there was no guarantee she’d have room for it in her refrigerator while we cooked and ate. I could always come back tomorrow and shop properly for more than one meal. If I was going to live alone here, I needed to build up a small stock of things at home anyway.

So I followed Ayaka out of the store with my empty basket returned to the stack on our way out and her groceries divided between us.

We walked at an easy pace, not hurrying, just carrying our bags side by side through the neighborhood. I paid close attention to the route she took, more out of curiosity than caution by now. The farther we went, the more the streets stood out around me in a way that felt deeply familiar. The road narrowed and opened again in the same places I expected it to. Utility poles and low walls lined the street. Afternoon light slanted across quiet residential houses, and here and there groups of students in uniform drifted home along the sidewalks in twos and threes. Shrubs spilled over pale block walls. The neighborhood felt extremely nostalgic, so close to the place I remembered that I had to keep reminding myself that this was the real world and I wasn’t back in Baku’s dream world.

“How long have you been living in the neighborhood?” Ayaka asked.

She adjusted one of the grocery bags higher in her hand as she said it, looking over at me with easy curiosity rather than suspicion.

“For a long time, actually.”

That drew a little more surprise out of her. Her brows lifted and she let out a soft sound through her nose, amused by it.

“It’s amazing that I never met you before today.”

“Isn’t it?”

Ayaka smiled at that and kept pace beside me, her shoes clicking lightly on the pavement while the plastic handles of the grocery bags pressed into her fingers.

“What do you do for a living? You don’t seem like you’re in school. If anything, you would be in college.”

“I was for a while,” I said. “But I decided what I was aiming for wasn’t really for me.”

“Oh?” She turned her head more fully toward me this time. “What were you learning?”

“To be a reporter and journalist.”

That made her eyes widen.

“Impressive. Were you close to graduating?”

“Very.”

“And you changed your mind just like that after getting so close to receiving your degree?”

“Mm. A lot happened.”

Ayaka’s expression softened immediately. The surprise left her face so completely that it almost made my chest tighten.

“... Did something bad happen to you?”

I kept my eyes on the street ahead, watching the road narrow and open again between low walls and quiet houses.

“Mm. You could say that my ambitions cost me too much.”

“Too much?” she repeated more quietly.

“I don’t really want to go too deeply into it.”

Ayaka nodded at once. She did not press. She only shifted the groceries in her hands again and let the subject rest, which made me like her even more.

“What are you going to do now, then?” she asked after a moment.

“I’m not sure, actually... but I’m going to look for a job tomorrow. Finding an apartment was tiring enough...”

Plus getting into an unexpected fight and a whirlwind romance... and then running into Mom after all that.

Ayaka glanced at me again.

“Didn’t you say that you had been living here for a while?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the street curved gently and the sight ahead caught me before I could say anything. A low gate came into view first, then the small front yard behind it, then the house set a little back from the street, modest and familiar and so close to what I remembered that my steps slowed.

A low gate stood before a modest front yard with damp stone, shrubs, and the familiar shape of a house set a little back from the street, its roofline and entryway lit by the soft afternoon light. The proportions were exactly the same, the feel right. Even from a distance, it looked so much like the house I grew up in from the dream that I stared at it for a long moment.

Girl Sumire had come home, and yet it wasn’t my home, just a happy, nostalgic memory.

I stopped walking and stared at it with a smile I could not quite restrain, exactly the kind of smile someone wore when they were seeing a place they had grown up in after having been away too long away, even though I’d last seen it very recently.

Ayaka noticed.

“You know my house?”

“In a way,” I said softly.

She opened the gate, stepped through, and turned to me with an inviting little motion of her hand.

“Come on inside.”

I followed her up to the door. She unlocked it and held it for me, holding onto her own bags of groceries and I stepped into the genkan and took off my shoes.

The inside hit me with the same strange split feelings I had at seeing my new and yet old apartment. It looked so similar to where I grew up that my chest tightened at once.

And yet one thing was missing.

There were no pictures of me on the walls.

I set the groceries down carefully by the wall and looked up at the framed photos lining the hall. Haru was there in several of them. One showed him older, in a high school uniform, the male version of the one that I’d worn. Another at a graduation ceremony. Another on a college campus with a couple of friends, wearing a look on his face that made him seem proud and embarrassed at the same time. Pictures of my father were still there too. But in the places where dream memories insisted I should have been, there were only Ayaka by herself, Ayaka with Haru, or Ayaka and my father with Haru, without me anywhere.

Looking at the pictures of Ayaka and her son, I noticed that she looked the same when he was middle aged, but the sadness I’d noticed in her eyes had entered around when Haru started attending High School.

“That’s my son, Haru,” Ayaka said. She said nothing at all about Dad.

“I thought so...” I smiled.

“He got into a good college.” Her voice brightened with pride. “I worried about his grades for a while and had to take his games away from him, but he started improving after that.”

“I see... I’m glad to hear that.”

Ayaka studied my face as I looked at the pictures. The empty places where I expected to find myself kept pulling at me.

“You’re looking at the pictures a little strangely. By any chance, have you met Haru somewhere?”

I forced my expression into something more neutral.

The truth was simple and difficult to explain. I was glad to see my dream brother doing well. At the same time, the absence of my dream father from the newer pictures bothered me more than I wanted to look at yet.

“No,” I said. “We never met.”

Ayaka looked back at the photos, then at me again, and something playful entered her face so suddenly that it caught me off guard.

“You like how he looks? He’s extremely handsome, don’t you think?”

My whole body recoiled internally.

“Ah... I suppose so...” I said with the most neutral voice I could manage.

No. No way. Absolutely not!

It suddenly felt very important to change the subject before she decided she had discovered a charming candidate to marry her son.

“Ah... that question you asked outside when we arrived...” I laughed a little and lifted one finger. “I’ve lived in this area for a long time, as I said... but I needed a new place to live and was lucky enough to find a great place.”

“Oh.” Ayaka’s face lit up at once. “That’s good to hear. If you hadn’t, I’d have offered you a spare room.”

And that would have complicated things even more, even though it would’ve been nice to pick up my dream life where it left off. I wouldn’t mind looking after Mom. I still want to do that. But if it means getting too close to Haru... I have a feeling that...

The front door opened behind us before I could finish that thought.

I quickly turned.

Haru stepped inside looking exhausted, one hand still on the door as he slipped out of his shoes. He wasn’t the boy from the dream, not the middle school kid in a rumpled uniform with a crooked tie and sleep in his eyes. He was older now, worn down in a college-student sort of way, his face more mature, his shoulders broader, his expression carrying the dull fatigue of someone who had been moving too hard for too long.

He looked at me and his mother for a long second.

Then, without taking his eyes fully off me, he spoke to Ayaka.

“Are you doing all right, Mom?”

“Yes.” Ayaka sounded surprised and pleased at once. “I wasn’t expecting you to visit today, Haru.”

“I had some free time today. I’ll stay overnight, if you don’t mind.” He glanced toward the yard through the living room window. “It looks like you’re letting the garden go.”

Ayaka laughed awkwardly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Ah... I’m sorry. It’s a little overwhelming taking care of this place on my own.”

“I know...” He looked at me properly then. “Who’s this?”

I took one step back before I could stop myself.

“Shinohara Sumire,” Ayaka said brightly. “Isn’t she cute? She’s over for dinner. I just met her at the grocery store and she was kind enough to help me.”

“Erm... yes...” Haru flushed and smiled. “Very.”

My stomach tried to turn itself inside out.

I suddenly wanted to bolt.

Instead I grabbed the safest thing within reach and threw it into the air like a lifeline.

“How about we get started with cooking that Hamburg steak dinner!” I blurted, bending quickly to pick up the grocery bags I’d set down by the wall.

Then I rushed toward the kitchen.

“Ah.” Ayaka followed at once, laughing as she came after me through the living space. “How did you know what I was planning to make? I thought I’d surprise you.”

I busied myself with the bags before she could look at my face too closely. The kitchen sat past the genkan just as it had in the dream, and once I stepped into it my hands moved a little too quickly. I started putting things away with a little too much energy, opening cupboards and pantry spaces and setting items down exactly where they belonged without thinking twice.

Ayaka stopped short in the doorway and stared at me.

“You’re so amazingly perceptive...” she said. “How did you know where to put everything?”

I froze with a package in my hand.

“Ah...” I turned toward her too quickly. “It’s a simple organization system, very easy to figure out at a glance. I didn’t mean that you’re simple. It’s just very practical and I admire your system.”

Ayaka laughed softly, delighted instead of offended.

Behind her, Haru had followed us into the kitchen. He set his bag down beside one of the chairs and stood there watching me with a thoughtful look that I did my best to ignore.

It had been much easier when he was a kid and my brother.

This was extremely annoying now.

I turned away from Haru and reached for the grocery bags before his stare could get any more on my nerves.

Ayaka came in right behind me and started pulling things out with a smile that had gone almost girlish with excitement. Ground meat. Onions. Eggs. Breadcrumbs. Milk. Ketchup. Worcestershire sauce. Potatoes and carrots for a simple side. A head of cabbage. Rice. Everything for a proper dinner.

Then she paused, opened a drawer, and took out two aprons.

“It wouldn’t do if you ruined your clothes while cooking for us.”

I nodded. “Right.”

I slipped off Reiko’s jacket and, without thinking about it, hung it over the back of the chair I used to sit in. The motion caught me halfway through. I deliberately did not look at Haru, who was still standing there near the edge of the kitchen pretending not to stare while very obviously staring. I tied the apron around myself instead, smoothing it down over my skirt.

Ayaka tied hers too, smiling in that soft, pleased way she had whenever she started cooking.

Haru lasted another minute or two before he finally spoke, “I’ll do some yardwork while I still have some energy,” he said. “Looking forward to dinner.”

Ayaka’s face brightened. “Thank you, Haru.”

I suppressed a sigh so strong it almost rose visibly out of me when he left.

The moment he was gone, I reached for the onions, a knife and a cutting board at almost the same time Ayaka went to the rice cooker.

She looked over at me and laughed.

“You move fast and you don’t spend time asking questions.”

“Mm. That’s how I was taught to cook. You just start working until it’s done. I know this recipe by heart. I’m sure that we won’t clash with different styles.”

“That’s a good habit to have.”

She rinsed rice in the sink while I peeled onions and trimmed the ends cleanly. The knife felt comfortable in my hand, although there were some subtle differences. The dream wasn’t able to perfectly copy every detail from the real world. This knife was different and newer than those I’d used when learning how to cook with mom. I knew my way around a cutting board far more than I had before in Baku's dream world. Just as mom taught me, the right angles to cut vegetables at, the correct pressure to use for various techniques, the way to keep my fingertips curled safely while the blade moved quickly. Ayaka noticed within a few seconds.

“Your vegetable cutting technique is a lot like mine,” she said, glancing sideways while cloudy water swirled over and around the rice as her fingers stirred and lightly massaged it, coaxing out the starch and dirt.

I smiled faintly without looking up. “The world sure seems small sometimes.”

She let out a little laugh at that, draining the rice a last time, refilling the rice pot and setting the rice to cook. By then I had already diced the onions fine enough that they would melt down almost completely once cooked. I scraped them into a pan with a little oil, set the heat, and began stirring them until they softened and turned sweet-smelling.

Ayaka stood beside me, getting the potatoes and carrots, starting peeling and cutting them on the cutting board I just used for a quick simmered side, though every so often her attention drifted back toward what I was doing.

“Where do you live, Sumire? How far is it from here?”

“It’s just to the north in a nice apartment complex,” I said, keeping the onions moving so they would not stick. “The rent is reasonable. It sure is nice to have connections,” I laughed a little as I said it, though I made a quiet note to myself at once to investigate exactly what those connections were before I worked to get the lease put into my own name.

“It’s not too far then?”

“Not at all. It’s very comfortable to walk, but much better on a bike.”

Ayaka looked up from the cutting board. “You like bicycles?”

“I used to when I was younger.” I slid the onions into a bowl to cool. “A dear friend of mine used to ride on the rear bolts whenever we went to school and came back together.”

“That sounds amazing,” Ayaka said. “Although a little unsafe.”

“Ah... we were martial artists, so we were never in danger.”

Ayaka laughed at that in the way people did when they half believed something and half filed it under youthful confidence.

“What styles do you know?”

“Ahh...” I smiled wryly and started cracking eggs into a large bowl. “It’s not so much about the styles so much as knowing how to defend yourself...”

...and being able to attack before things get out of hand, like on the platform and when Aika destroyed Rui’s office. If I’d been more competent and a little quicker then, I could have saved at least some of her things...

Ayaka noticed my expression at once.

“You look like you worry a lot about that.”

“Yeah... you’re right.” I poured in the breadcrumbs and milk, then added the cooled onions. “I need to get even stronger than I am now somehow. I get the feeling that things will only get tougher from this point on, no matter how far I’ve come.”

“Mm...” Ayaka pretended to think deeply while she scraped the chopped potatoes and carrots into a pot. “They say that a martial artist’s road never ends, or something like that.”

She laughed at her own joke, knowing perfectly well she was faking wisdom.

Then she looked over at the bowl in front of me.

“You’re very impressive. What sort of things do you like to do?”

I paused with my hands over the meat.

That was a harder question than it should have been.

“Well... I haven’t put a lot of thought into that yet. But I played a little volleyball and I kind of liked that.”

“How fun.” Ayaka lit up again. “Were you any good at it?”

“Reasonably. I just got started, really.”

“I heard that Midorigaoka High School has been looking for an assistant coach for their volleyball team.”

I looked up at once.

“Oh, really?”

“Mm. I heard it’s for outside club support, only part time, not too demanding. I don’t know if the pay is wonderful, but I heard it’s decent.”

That made me think.

My hands moved on their own while I did, folding the meat mixture together gently at first, then more firmly once the seasonings went in. I knew exactly when to stop so the texture would stay tender instead of becoming dense. Ayaka had stopped cutting altogether now and was just watching.

“What else are you interested in, Sumire?”

I thought about it while I divided the meat evenly and started shaping the patties. I pressed each one together firmly, tossed it once from palm to palm to drive out extra air, then made a shallow dent in the center with my thumb.

“Well... I wanted to be an idol when I was growing up,” I admitted. “But I’m not sure that’s right for me.”

“Are you kidding?” Ayaka said. “Your body is amazing. You have so many muscles, but your overall body shape is still soft where it counts... and you’re incredibly beautiful.” She laughed, the sadness I had seen in her eyes earlier still faded a little while we cooked together. “I would be very proud of you if I were your mother.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. “I’m still not sure that’s what I’d like to do, but...”

“You could easily become a model. An old acquaintance of mine could help with that.”

That made me blink.

“How much does that pay... and how time consuming is it?”

Ayaka tilted her head. “Mm... I suppose the answer is a lot to both, depending on how popular you are. Judging by how you look, I think you’d probably be both very busy and fairly well off. But you’d have to be careful of exploitation.” She set the lid on the simmering pot and looked at me more seriously. “If you were actually my daughter, I’d hesitate to introduce you to my friend. But you’re an adult and you can make your own decisions.”

I smiled wryly at that.

“I’ll think about that too. I think I’ll go to the school tomorrow and see about that. It sounds less time consuming. Maybe after an upcoming exam, I’ll have time to try something like that, but time will still be precious. Maybe more than ever.”

Ayaka, who had been slicing cabbage into a fine mound for salad while listening, paused and looked up.

“Mm... I thought you said you’d quit college.”

“...It’s not that kind of exam.” I set a frying pan over medium heat and waited for it to warm. “It’s for yet another line of work... but honestly, I’m not sure how steady the work will be if I pass their exam to be licensed.”

“This whole time you already had a job lined up?” Ayaka sounded genuinely surprised. “You keep surprising me.”

“Sort of, but kind of not. It’s not guaranteed that I’ll pass.”

“What kind of a job is it?”

I looked at the pan, then at the patties lined up on the tray beside me.

“...Mm... to become a specialized kind of detective. It’s a little like being a reporter, I guess... and definitely more dangerous...”

“A detective? Really?” Ayaka stared at me. “How good at fighting are you?”

“Reasonably...” I said, laughing a little.

“You don’t sound confident.” She slid the salad into a bowl and reached for the dressing. “It’s never a good idea to go into an exam feeling unconfident.”

“I guess I’m not really... but they won’t license me if I’m not good enough. Then it won’t be a problem.”

“That makes sense.” Ayaka nodded. “Good luck, if it’s what you really want to do.”

I laid the patties into the pan one by one. They hit the surface with a strong hiss, and the smell of browning meat rose almost at once.

“I... I’m never completely sure that it’s what I want to do,” I admitted. “But I owe someone so much that I wouldn’t hesitate to work toward the goal so that I can support her.”

Ayaka looked over from the counter where she was whisking the dressing.

“Her? Who’s this person that you’d bend over backwards for?”

I lowered the heat slightly and watched the edges of the patties start to color.

“Oh... She’s a pushy little thing. She’s always in my face, embarrassing me, prodding me... honestly, she’s a little tough to deal with, but I...” I trailed off and felt my face warm.

Ayaka’s mouth curved immediately.

“Oh...” She nodded as if something had become clear to her. “I see. Do your best for her.”

The first side had browned enough by then. I slid the spatula under one patty and flipped it. The others followed. Ayaka came over with a lid when I asked for it.

“You really do know your way around my kitchen.”

I smiled, trying not to look as guilty as I felt.

She poured a little water into the pan when I shifted the patties apart, and steam rose at once when I covered them to finish cooking through. While they steamed, I stirred together the sauce with ketchup, Worcestershire, and a little of the pan juices after the first reduction, thinning and thickening it by instinct until it looked right.

Ayaka watched the whole process with open admiration now.

“You even know when to cool the onions before mixing them,” she said. “And you shaped them perfectly. They’ll stay tender like this.”

I glanced at her. “I told you I can cook.”

“You did.” She laughed. “I just didn’t realize you meant this well.”

By the time she had the salad finished and the simmered vegetables tender, the hamburg steaks were nearly ready to eat. The sauce glossed over them beautifully. The rice cooker clicked over. The kitchen smelled rich and warm, and for a little while I let myself enjoy that without thinking too far ahead.

Special thanks to PrincessArylin, ShinjiHinako, Assurbanipal II (Achan) for beta reading book three! <3

Illustrations Disclaimer: Locations aren't always 100% canon. Usually they are only representative. Character features and styles may stray a little now and again.

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