The television droned in the background, the announcer's voice muffled beneath the sound of cicadas outside. Takumi sat quietly on the tatami floor, his eyes lowered, while the faint aroma of freshly brewed green tea filled the air. His grandmother moved gracefully, pouring tea into small porcelain cups, her straw hat now resting on the shelf.
"Yuko," Grandma began, her voice calm but firm as she handed over a cup, "are you really serious about moving away to Tokyo? A big city like that swallows people. You've lived here all your life. Why chase after something uncertain?"
Yuko accepted the cup with a polite nod, blowing softly at the steam. Her nails—painted dark brown, freshly manicured—caught the light, a small contrast against the humble tatami. She smiled faintly. "Mom, I already found a job. And I rented an apartment. Everything is ready. It's not uncertain."
Grandpa cleared his throat, folding the newspaper in his lap. His wrinkled face, marked by years of hard work, looked at her sternly. "A job, an apartment… that's fine. But what about Takumi? Changing schools suddenly isn't easy. Children need stability. He'll be lost in that big city."
Takumi kept his gaze low, fingers curled slightly into his knees. He wanted to speak, but the weight of the discussion pressed him into silence.
Yuko leaned back slightly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Tokyo has more opportunities. He'll have more paths open to him than this small town. Here… there's nothing."
Grandma sighed, shaking her head. "That's not true. Stability, family, tradition… these things matter more than flashing lights and trains. You think opportunity only exists in Tokyo? Yuko, you've become so restless lately."
There was a pause. The ticking clock in the living room sounded louder than before.
Then Grandpa said quietly, "Yuko… instead of running off, why not settle down here? You're still young. You should marry again and find a good man who can support you and Takumi. A stable family—that is what a boy needs most."
Yuko's expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. She set her teacup down gently, the porcelain clinking against the tray. "No," she said firmly. "That won't happen. I'm not marrying again."
Grandma frowned. "Why not? You can't live alone forever. Don't you want a partner? Someone to share the burden with?"
Yuko exhaled slowly, her gaze turning away. "I've thought about it enough. I don't need a husband. I don't need anyone interfering in how I live. Takumi and I will manage fine."
Takumi lifted his eyes slightly, looking at his mother's profile. She was calm and unyielding, her back straight like she had already decided long ago.
"But Yuko," Grandpa tried again, his tone almost pleading now, "life is long. Work and money—these things don't hold you at night when you're old. A family does. A husband does."
Yuko smiled faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll take my chances."
The room fell quiet. Grandma's hands trembled as she refilled her own cup of tea. Grandpa muttered something under his breath, then unfolded the newspaper again as though to end the subject.
Takumi shifted uncomfortably, glancing between them all. The heaviness in the air pressed into him, though he couldn't find words to cut through it. Instead, he sipped from his cup silently, the bitterness of the tea lingering on his tongue.
Grandpa's hands clenched around the folded newspaper. His jaw tightened, the vein in his temple pulsing. Finally, he slammed the paper down onto the table, his voice rising, sharp as a blade.
"This bitch never listens!"
Takumi froze, eyes wide. The harshness in his grandfather's tone was something he had never heard before.
"When she was in high school," Grandpa continued, his voice trembling with rage, "she kept sneaking out, going to love hotels with that bastard. I pleaded with her, I argued, I even beat her when I caught her sneaking out—" His fist slammed the tatami. "But this bitch never listened!"
"Dad!" Yuna shouted, rising from her seat. Her face was flushed, horrified. "Is it really necessary to talk like this in front of Takumi?!"
But Grandpa's anger had already broken loose. His chest heaved, words spilling out like venom. "And what happened? She got herself pregnant! With a good-for-nothing loser who ended up exactly where I said he would—rotting in prison!"
Takumi's throat tightened. The words hit him like stones, one after another. He gripped the edge of his cup, his knuckles turning white.
"Dad, enough!" Yuna's voice cracked this time, louder, desperate to shield her nephew. She moved closer, putting herself between Yuko and their father.
Grandma pressed a trembling hand to her lips, her face pale. "Stop this… please…"
But Grandpa's glare didn't waver. His voice dropped lower, colder. "And now she wants to run off again. Tokyo, jobs, apartments—it's all just the same selfishness. Never once thinking about anyone but herself."
The room quivered with silence again, heavy and suffocating. Yuko's expression didn't falter, but her nails dug into her palm beneath the sleeve of her robe. Her eyes shimmered faintly, though no tears fell.
Takumi sat stiff, his chest heavy. His mind buzzed with the words he had just heard. Pregnant… prison…
The cicadas outside screamed on, as if mocking the fractured family inside.
"Here we go again…" Yuko rose slowly, her voice low but cutting through the still air. For a moment, it seemed she would scream, unleashing everything boiling inside her. But her lips pressed shut, trembling, before she exhaled sharply and shook her head.
"Leave it," she muttered.
She grabbed her designer bag from beside the cushion and slung it over her shoulder. The quiet tatami creaked as she slipped her feet into the stylish high heels she had carefully placed by the door earlier that morning. The sharp click echoed in the room like a declaration of war.
"I need more packing to do. I'll wait at Mihara Station at seven p.m. Bring Takumi directly there," she said coldly, not even glancing at her father. Her words were directed at Yuna.
"Onee-san, wait—" Yuna stood quickly, reaching for her sister. "Onee-san, at least Takumi should visit his dad. I'll take him in the afternoon. I'll call you once we're on the way to Mihara Station."
But Yuko's eyes narrowed, cutting Yuna's words short. "Do as you like."
"Yuko, stop!" Grandma's frail voice trembled, desperation spilling out as she clutched at her apron. "I made your favorite food. At least eat lunch with us before you leave…"
Yuko turned, her face twisted with bitterness. "No, Mom. My stomach is already full—with insult." Her gaze shifted to her father, eyes sharp and glistening, dripping with disdain. "Disgusting insult."
Grandpa froze, the weight of her glare pressing down on him. For once, he had no retort.
Yuko's heels clicked hard against the floorboards as she marched toward the door. The silence of the house broke with the harsh slam—THUD!
And then, she was gone.
The room fell into an aching stillness. Grandma sank back down, shoulders trembling. Yuna bit her lip, torn between chasing after her sister and staying beside Takumi.
Takumi sat motionless, his chest heavy, the echo of that door slam reverberating inside him.
Outside, the cicadas screamed louder than ever, as if mocking the broken family within.