The Next Decade
"Papa?"
Kitagawa Ryo blinked, his hazy vision slowly coming into focus. The first thing that entered his view, along with the voice in his ear, was a red orb. Staring at it for a moment, he realized it was an apple—more precisely, one that was halfway peeled. The lower half still retained its red skin, while the upper half exposed pristine white flesh. The rhythmic scraping sound came from a fruit knife, the kind sold in any store.
The hand gripping the black plastic handle was small and pale—paler even than the apple's flesh, delicate like a snowball. Following the hand upward, a sharp contrast of black met the eye.
A common black sailor uniform with a red necktie fluttering at the chest. From the collar peeked out a face so exquisitely delicate it could belong to an elf. Paired with shoulder-length, silver hair that shimmered like a dream, the contrast between black and white was so perfect it left a supernatural impression.
"Hotaru."
Kitagawa Ryo called the little girl's name. It was the name he and Shiina Hiyori had chosen together, a symbol of their love.
Over a decade ago, when Kitagawa first met Shiina Hiyori, they had taken care of a white cat named Hotaru. The cat had accompanied them through junior high, high school, and university. But two years after they married, the cat passed away from old age. The following year, their daughter—now standing before Ryo's bed—was born: Kitagawa Hotaru.
"Papa drank too much again..."
Hotaru had inherited her mother's silver hair, but her eyes and expression were all Kitagawa Ryo. Standing together, there was no doubt they were father and daughter. Carefully, she finished peeling the apple and, with pride sparkling in her eyes, offered it up to him like a treasure.
Ryo took a bite without hesitation. Despite being a father for eight years, he still didn't act the part in front of his daughter. Chewing with his cheeks puffed out, he asked:
"Your mom doesn't know I snuck out last night, right?"
"Mama went back to London yesterday. She said she was going to visit the Sherlock Holmes exhibit at the British Library."
Hotaru recalled carefully. Then, as if remembering something, she placed the apple down with a thud, darted to her little desk, and came back with a homework notebook:
"Papa, who's your best friend?"
Ryo was still chewing when the question hit him.
"School homework again?"
"Mm-hmm!"
Hotaru nodded. She opened the notebook where the assignment read: "Draw your dad, mom, yourself, and your parents' best friends."
On the next page were three stick figures—head ovals and limbs made of lines. The leftmost had short black strokes on its head, clearly short hair. The middle one had a star on its head—symbolizing the hairclip Ryo had gifted her last year. The right one… why was it bald?
Ryo blinked, incredulous.
"Hotaru, aren't you worried your mom will get mad seeing this?"
"Not at all!"
Hotaru pointed at the 'bald' figure.
"I used a silver pencil to draw lots of hair! Papa just can't see it."
"On white paper... yeah, that's hard to see."
His head still throbbing from a hangover, Ryo flopped back onto the bed. The apple core arced through the air and landed neatly in the trash bin. If Shiina Hiyori were home, she'd scold him for setting a bad example.
Thinking of that made Ryo lazier. Even when Hotaru jumped onto the bed and stomped on his stomach, he didn't react.
"Ah… I didn't answer your question."
Ryo mumbled with eyes shut:
"It's Horikita Manabu—your Uncle Horikita."
"Oh, glasses uncle!"
Ryo sighed internally at how Manabu was remembered. He thought it should be "Sis-con Uncle," but Hotaru was too young to see through people like he once could.
Satisfied, Hotaru went back to her drawing. Just as Ryo expected, the new stick figure had glasses—two squares connected by a line.
Then she drew another figure: short hair, with a curved line dangling beside the head.
Ryo couldn't help but laugh.
"If Suzune sees that, she might never bring you snacks again."
Of course, he knew that was Horikita Suzune. Considering how much she doted on Hotaru like her own child, Ryo wanted to take a photo and post it online.
He searched for his phone under the pillow but couldn't find it, so he peeked over the edge:
"Hotaru, have you seen my phone?"
She blinked and pulled it out from the drawer:
"I put it here so you wouldn't crush it while sleeping."
"Such a good girl."
Ryo patted her head and was about to check his messages when she tugged his sleeve and pointed at a photo in the drawer:
"Who are these people?"
The photo was faded. A youthful Ryo stood alongside one boy and three girls, in front of what looked like a school gate.
He picked it up and pointed:
"This was from high school with your mom."
"Advanced Nurturing High School… It's been over ten years."
Together, they lay on the bed like bedtime storytime.
"This boy is Ryuuen Kakeru, leader of Class C."
"Leader? Like class president?"
"Something like that."
"These two girls were the leaders of Class A and B—Sakayanagi Arisu and Ichinose Honami."
One leaned on a cane beside Ryo, the other squatted in front with a bright smile.
"I know! That's Suzune!"
"And that's why I sometimes feel like we're the same generation."
Ryo scratched his head. Suzune had let Hotaru call her by name to avoid being called "auntie," though calling her "sister" felt too much like being younger than Ryo.
"Yes, that's Horikita Suzune."
He pointed at her photo.
"She used to have long hair, you know."
"Oh oh."
Hotaru nodded seriously, then asked:
"Whose hair was longer—mama's or hers?"
"Hmm, never compared… probably the same."
He really couldn't remember how long Suzune's hair was back then. It'd been so long.
"Back then, I went to Tokyo just to fix the engagement issue. Suzune was really unpopular then, always quoting her brother."
Ryo reminisced fondly, but Hotaru clearly didn't follow. She tilted her head in confusion, then leaned softly on his shoulder:
"Papa, I don't get it."
"That's normal. Anyway, this photo was of the four class representatives at graduation."
He grabbed two hair ties and did her hair into twin-tails, making her look even more adorably sweet.
"But Papa, there are five people in the photo."
Hotaru tugged his arm, still curious.
"Well… that's a secret."
He tapped her nose playfully:
"It's a promise I made with someone, so I can't tell. Papa will get punished."
"Okay! Then don't say it!"
"Let's get up! Time to visit your mom."
Ryo tucked the photo back into the drawer, got out of bed with a stretch:
"Flight in two hours. If we go now, we'll arrive tomorrow morning."
"Yay! Plane ride!"
Hotaru cheered. She loved staring out the window at the clouds.
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"That one looks like a sunflower, this one looks like the bear from the zoo, and this one looks like a big bad wolf..."
As expected, the moment they boarded the plane, Kitagawa Hotaru immediately began her favorite pastime of identifying cloud shapes with boundless enthusiasm. Although Kitagawa Ryo couldn't see the same shapes in the clouds that his daughter described, he didn't interrupt her. He simply sat quietly beside her, smiling as he watched her profile.
She looked so much like her mother, especially with that unmistakable silver hair. When Kitagawa Ryo first met Shiina Hiyori, they were only thirteen. He hadn't known her as a child, but now he was certain—this was what Hiyori must have looked like back then.
"Daddy, look! That one looks like you, Mommy, and me."
Hotaru pointed at a cluster of clouds with delight. To Ryo, they were merely three cloud masses, large and small, connected together. Yet, he nodded and replied with a chuckle, "It really does."
The clouds hung heavy in the sky, their forms ever-shifting, never pausing, never staying in the same place. Their outlines blurred into the blue sky, existing as non-existent entities. Yet when one projects emotion onto them, they take on new life. Ryo found himself recalling memories, and for a moment, he imagined one cloud resembled Hiyori's wedding gown on the day she married him.
Resting his head in his hand, Ryo watched the sky and, for the first time, felt the same innocent joy his daughter did.
For a long time, father and daughter remained absorbed in their game, finding new meanings in the drifting sky.
The next morning, the plane landed in London.
London, 221B Baker Street — the fictional home of Sherlock Holmes. The place was bustling, filled with tourists. It had become one of the city's most famous landmarks.
Shiina Hiyori stood there, a little exasperated by the overly persistent man who had been trailing her since yesterday's Holmes exhibit. The man, probably in his twenties, had latched onto her with a slew of excuses for conversation.
"Shiina-san, as fellow lovers of detective fiction, which author or book is your favorite?"
His voice, cloying and insistent, grated on Hiyori's nerves.
"I actually have quite the knowledge of mystery novels. Seeing as you're passionate about them too, how about we exchange contact info and get to know each other as fellow bibliophiles?"
Usually indifferent to others, even Hiyori was beginning to lose her patience. Just as she was about to speak, Ryo suddenly appeared, slipping between the two like a shadow. Without a word, he delivered a discreet punch to the man's gut.
"Likewise, my favorite author is Lawrence Block from the American hard-boiled school..."
"Eight Million Ways to Die," Ryo added, locking his arm around the man's neck like an old friend, smiling casually while delivering a hidden side kick to his ribs.
"There's the guy who buys a new TV and it explodes, the one who gets killed just before living his best life, and of course—the ones who vanish after crossing the wrong people."
With a cold gleam in his eye, Ryo tightened his grip.
"Which one would you like to choose?"
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"Problem solved," Ryo said cheerfully, dusting off his hands as he returned to his wife and daughter. Hotaru clapped her hands in delight.
"Daddy was so cool!"
"Why thank you."
He reached out and took Hiyori's hand, her wedding ring gleaming in the sunlight. With a playful whistle, he grinned.
"How could I miss out on being your one and only designated book buddy at an event like this?"
"Pfft."
Hiyori chuckled, patting his shoulder, then tiptoed to kiss him and whispered with a wink:
"You got here fast."
"Of course I did. I flew here the moment I heard. What if something happened to my most precious treasure?"
He accepted her kiss without hesitation, puffing his chest proudly.
Nearby, Hotaru bashfully covered her eyes, peeking through her fingers at her parents as curious onlookers turned to stare. She felt shy, but couldn't help watching.
Ryo didn't care about the stares. He leaned down, wrapping his arm around Hiyori's waist, whispering in her ear:
"The next ten years, the ten after that... I'll still love you. That has never changed."