We prepared ourselves and took the train to the village where my grandmother lives. As I went, a memory struck me from when I was a child. Back then, I had asked my grandmother to raise me instead of my uncle, but she refused, saying that I had to stay with him for the sake of my future. I still don't understand why she told me that.
While I was lost in thought, Kana asked me about my grandmother. I answered, "After my parents passed away, she became my last hope in this world. She was both a father and a mother to me. I always wished she would be the one to raise me."
Kana then asked, "So who raised you?"
I replied, "After my parents' death, they left a will to my grandmother. But after reading it, she refused to take care of me and left me with my uncle."
Kana was shocked and said, "How can she be good if she did that?"
I answered, "She's the one who raised the person standing in front of you now. Thanks to her, I entered one of the best schools ever. True, my uncle took care of me in name, but my grandmother was the one who stood by me at every moment. She was my true support."
Kana fell silent, then finally said, "I'm looking forward to meeting your grandmother."
I didn't understand her words, but my thoughts were interrupted as the train began to slow down—we had arrived.
When we got off the train, someone suddenly hugged me. Surprised, I pushed him away, and he asked, "Don't you recognize me, Akira?"
I said, "No, who are you?"
It turned out to be Souta, the son of my grandmother's neighbor, three years younger than me. But he was tall and muscular now—so much that I wondered if he had eaten a whole cow or something.
He welcomed me and my friends warmly. When Kana saw him, she asked if he was older than me. I answered the opposite, that he was younger. She was surprised and joked, "Looks like your friend drank too much milk."
Meanwhile, Michel, tired from carrying the luggage, complained, "I'm not a porter, you know. Can someone else take these bags?" Souta immediately picked them up, and Michel looked at him as if he were his savior—even though Souta only carried them for a few seconds.
As we walked to my grandmother's house, I admired the houses and flowers. I remembered when I was little, my grandmother used to sell flowers. Sometimes, she would sell bouquets, but other times, if someone whispered in her ear, she would hand them a single small red rose with tiny thorns. When I asked her why, she smiled and said, "This flower is worth more than you think."
She explained, "When I give people a bouquet, each flower has a meaning—white roses for purity, jasmine for tenderness and beauty, sunflowers for loyalty and attraction. But the red rose is different. It represents deep love. Its thorns may hurt, but whoever chooses it bears the pain because they want to confess their love. And when their beloved accepts, she holds his hand, places it on her cheek, and heals his wound. That's why the thorns must remain."
When I asked why not remove the thorns, she laughed and whispered, "Because those who confess love need a little sting to wake them up from nervousness. And besides… when she heals his wound, there's a joy only he can feel. You'll understand when you confess to a girl one day."
I blushed and fell silent, while my grandmother laughed endlessly.
When we finally reached her house, no one was there. Souta explained that she always goes out at this hour to buy things for her flowers. We waited, and when she arrived, she went straight to Kana, ignoring me, and said, "Oh, you're so beautiful! Are you my grandson Akira's girlfriend? Good choice, my boy!"
I quickly told her that Kana was not my girlfriend, but had come to ask her something. My grandmother replied, "Of course! If it's about my grandson Akira, I'll answer anything."
But Michel interrupted, saying, "No, we're here to ask you something else."
Grandmother stopped and glared at him: "Who is this young man? I didn't invite him to my house. He should leave."
I quickly stepped in, "Grandma, this is Michel, he's also my friend. He came because he wants to ask you something."
She sighed, "Very well. Then he should hurry and ask, so he can leave."
I was surprised and asked why, and she answered, "Because he's trying to take my grandson's girlfriend."
I shouted, "That's a misunderstanding! She's not my girlfriend. She's the granddaughter of my school's principal!"
Silence filled the room. Then my grandmother turned to Michel and said, "Then you can have her. I don't want her as my grandson's girlfriend. I don't want any ties to that man."
We were all shocked—even Kana. She asked why.
Grandmother explained that she used to be his senpai. The man, Masahiro Takeshi, was arrogant, troublesome, and hot-tempered. She always had to keep an eye on him. Kana then asked, "Do you mean someone else?" But Grandmother said, "No, I mean Masahiro Takeshi. Isn't that your grandfather?"
Kana fell silent, then said, "I'll have to ask my grandfather when we return. But for now, let's finish what we came here for."
I asked Grandmother about the box she had once given me, the one she said had no key. She admitted she had opened it once and found a paper inside but couldn't remember where she put it. Her memory was too occupied. She then asked for my help—she needed me to collect flowers for someone.
Surprised, I asked why. Usually, people came to us for flowers, not the other way around. She sighed, "Children today don't understand change. Listen—times have changed. These people are now classified as 'special clients.' Do you understand?"
I teased her, "Looks like you've grown greedy for money, Grandma. I want my humble, smiling grandmother back."
She hit me with her cane, "And who's going to give this old lady money, you fool? If I can earn even one coin, I'll manage with it. A smile is priceless, and without it, Mr. Kim will be in trouble—his ointment is too expensive!"
Mr. Kim, upon hearing his name, grew anxious for some reason.
I rubbed my head, "Alright, alright, I understand."
Grandmother grabbed my ear and said, "Come on, let's pick the flowers."
Kana asked to come too, and Grandmother agreed but warned her only to look, since the flowers were for a very important client. Michel also asked to join, and she allowed it.
When I asked what occasion the flowers were for, she said we'd know once we reached the garden.
At the garden, she stopped at a single black flower—the only one different from the rest. A strange feeling struck me, but I ignored it. I asked which flowers we should pick. She replied, "You choose."
I said, "Why me? Isn't it the client who chooses?"
She said, "The client chose a simple title: the feeling of losing someone dear to you."
Kana then stepped forward and asked if she could choose one flower. Grandmother asked if she knew about flower meanings. Kana replied, "No, but I know one flower. When I was with my grandmother, we planted one like this. It changed depending on the soil. When I asked her why, she said she planted it for me, to be like this flower—unchanged in happiness and sadness, always adapting. She asked me, when she died, to plant another one for her. She told me when its color changed, it would be as if she were talking to me. I don't know how, but I trust I'll understand someday."
Grandmother smiled, "Then this will be the first flower we cut. Well done, my dear. Your grandmother was dear to me too."
We gathered the flowers, and my grandmother led me to a grave. When I saw it, I turned away and said I wanted to leave—I hated being there. But she grabbed me and said, "Isn't it shameful not to greet your parents' grave, Akira?"
And then, my painful past came rushing back to me.