A young man stood tall, his frame lean and sinewy. He watched as his mother fastened his charcoal outer robes and tied back his sun-bleached hair, which had grown noticeably over the past three weeks. He blinked when his mother stepped back, her dark eyes misty, her lips quivering with emotion.
"My handsome boy, you look as dashing as ever," she whispered.
Ryousuke frowned. These were words he'd heard countless times before. For some reason, they felt distant in that moment. It was as if a thin fog coated his eyes, dulling his vision, though it was already imperfect. His mind felt fuzzy, too. It was as if a chunk of it was missing or hidden away somewhere. He wasn't sure what was going on.
He woke up one day with his mother and a strange woman looking down at him. His mother was on the verge of tears, and even in a gaze, he lifted a hand, reaching to wipe away the tear that fell down her right cheek. He was greeted with four words: "You're back, my son."
Ryousuke wasn't sure where he was "back" from. He assumed it must've been from one of his month-long trips. Those were the only times he was away from the village and his mother. He sat up. His body felt creaky, heavy, sore. Like a sack of premium rice. His frown deepened.
"Careful, my boy. Don't overwork yourself," his mother said, rushing to his side and placing a hand on his back as she helped him up. Ryousuke assured her he was fine and searched her face.
"What happened?" His voice came out gruff, almost strained, like he hadn't used it in a while. He brought a hand to his throat, rubbing the area.
Iori's face creased with worry. She ran out of the room and came back with a glass of water. Ryousuke took the cup, chugged its contents, then set it down on the little table by his bed. His mother took a seat next to him. She folded her thin, weathered hands on her lap before turning to look at her son. She tried to keep her face composed and her voice light as she spoke.
"Your trip out of the island took a toll on your body, Ryousuke. It's no wonder you're so tired and sore," she let out a smile, laugh, masking the sadness that painted her eyes. "Don't worry, you should be back to normal after a few days of rest."
Ryousuke stared at his mother, then nodded, since he had no reason to suspect his mother of lying. He looked around him. The view reflected in his eyes was one he was familiar with. He was in his room, lying in his futon, everything was in place. The only thing that was out of place was the woman standing at the foot of his bed. "Who…is this?" He asked, clearing his throat as his voice was still a little raspy from sleep.
Something flashed in his mother's eyes, alarm mixed with panic, before a smile appeared on her face. "Haha, Ryousuke, don't tell me you've forgotten Miss Tanaka? She is my oldest and dearest friend. She came by for a visit while you were away."
The older woman, Tanaka-san, took a step forward, her head tilting to the side as she looked at Ryousuke, though in his eyes it felt more like she was assessing than simply looking. "It's fine, Iori-san. It's normal he doesn't remember since the last time he saw me was when he was still very young."
Ryousuke gave a curt bow. "I apologize for my rudeness, Tanaka-san. It's nice to see you again. I wish it were under better circumstances," he said politely.
His mother smiled, placing a hand over his. She'd always been proud of his manners. Despite appearances, he was good at heart. "Take your time, Ryousuke. Tanaka-san and I will leave you."
He nodded and watched his mother and Tanaka-san leave. He ran a hand through his hair, frowning at how long it had gotten—he needed a cut, but that could wait. For now, he needed a bath.
He went to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of his reflection through the glass. He really did look worn out. His bronzy skin looked paler than usual. His eyes looked dull. The muscles on his body were less prominent. He looked as if he'd lost some weight. He brought a hand to his face—his skin felt dry, lifeless. He took a bath and felt better after soaking in the tub. His skin flushed from the heat. He was already feeling supple.
When he went out to the kitchen, he was greeted with a table filled with all his favourite meals. He hadn't been hungry earlier, but his stomach practically growled at the sight of food. His mother came out from the living room, watching her son with a smile on her face.
"I wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for, so I made a bit of everything. I hope you're hungry."
Though his expression remained stoic, his eyes glimmered with gratitude. He didn't hesitate, pulling out a chair and sitting. First, he reached for stir-fried eggplants glazed with sweet, tangy sauce. Then he took two pieces of tamagoyaki and a large bowl of rice. A few bites in, he sipped his mother's comforting miso soup. After some karaage, the table was bare. He'd devoured every dish and felt his spirits lift.
Some color returned to his skin. The Village Head poured him fresh juice, her eyes soft with relief.
"Thank you for the food," he finally said.
"It was my pleasure, son."
A comfortable silence had settled between mother and son until Iori broke it, her lips folding into a tight smile. "Ryousuke, do you recall the conversation we had a few months ago?"
He set down his glass, brow furrowed. He couldn't recall what his mother meant. Seeing his confusion, she sighed. "It's alright. We discussed marriage prospects. You said you weren't looking but weren't opposed."
Realization dawned on his face. "Yes, I remember."
Iori nodded. "Good. There's a young lady in the village who's beautiful and kind. I mentioned you could be interested." She paused, gauging him. "Would you mind meeting her? It's nothing serious, just a casual talk. How does that sound?"
Ryousuke was at a loss. This was not the kind of conversation he had expected to have with his mother after being asleep for who knows how long. Seeing his silence, the Village Head added on, "Nothing has been decided yet, son. If the match works, then the two of you can consider marriage as an option."
The young man pursed his lips as he thought about his mother's words. He'd always wanted to marry someday, especially now that he was twenty-seven this year and wasn't getting any younger. His parents were already married and had him when they were about his age. He'd always wanted to settle down before the age of thirty, but as he got older, he realized how unrealistic those goals were for him, especially with his generation, who weren't focused on getting married and cared more about advancing in their careers and avoiding the burdens that came with having children.
He had plenty of friends his age who didn't even think about getting hitched as an option right now. As time went on, Ryousuke kind of fell into the same wagon. That didn't mean he wasn't interested in women in general. He just wasn't looking. His mother never pressured him to find anyone either, so he felt no need at the time.
His pale eyes searched his mother's, wondering why she raised the subject now when she'd never tried before. When marriage came up, it was always in passing. Yet, he sensed urgency in her request—not in her tone, but in her eyes, her gaze lingering.
But that was the thing about his mother. Though she was the most expressive of the Tachibanas, she was also the one who could hide her feelings just as well. Any feelings of doubt he'd felt had all but vanished as soon as he saw her radiant smile. And since he trusted his mother above all else and seemed to have vetted this woman, he saw no problem in meeting her.
"I'll go then," he said.
His mother beamed and got up to place a kiss on his forehead. After eating, Ryousuke went outside to chop some wood since this was usually around the time he'd do so, alongside other chores like tending to their vegetable garden, watering the plants, and doing some handy work in the shed. As he cut the wood, his mind wandered to his conversation with his mother, more notably, the woman he was supposed to meet. His mother hadn't said more about this mystery woman beyond expressing how kind she was and believing that he would like her.
As his axe hit the oak with a loud thud, pieces of wood and dust flew into the air; Ryousuke could only hope that would be the case.