Chapter 46: Volume 1, - 46: The Akiyamas’ Holiday Table
Tuesday, 21 March 2023 — Vernal Equinox Day
The morning light across the Kawaguchi shopping street had a soft, quiet quality unique to Vernal Equinox Day. Most retail shutters remained down, and the familiar clatter of early delivery vans was replaced by the intermittent rustle of families walking towards the nearby cemetery carrying incense and fresh flowers.
In the living quarters above Akiyama Bakery, the kitchen smelled of simmering root vegetables and sweet red bean paste.
Hiroshi Akiyama sat at the low dining table, flicking through the local commercial gazette while his wife, Keiko, arranged porcelain dishes of botamochi on a wooden tray. Near the stove, Fumiko Akiyama, Suzune’s grandmother quietly checked a clay pot. Small and silver-haired, Fumiko pointed with her spoon toward a stack of old, handwritten order cards Keiko had set beside the telephone.
"Hiroshi wanted to throw those away years ago for numbered slips," Fumiko said, glancing at Keiko. "But the regulars still like writing their family names on them for Equinox order pickups. Cleaner isn’t always kinder. Sometimes an old habit survives because somebody still needs it."
"Suzune," Keiko called towards the hallway. "Is Kisaragi-san coming straight from home?"
Suzune stepped into the room, smoothing down the front of a warm knit sweater. "He had an Okada-san deadline to finish at Suite 302 first. He said he’d be here by one."
Hiroshi lowered his gazette slightly. "Is he bringing that heavy briefcase of his again? When he brought that quote over last week, he looked like he hadn’t slept in three days."
"He works hard, Hiroshi," Keiko said mildly, setting down a plate of grilled fish. "It’s polite of him to visit on a holiday."
"I’m just asking if he knows how to sit still," Hiroshi muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.
"He is sleeping now," Suzune said, taking a seat at the table to help fold paper napkins. "Or at least he tries to."
Fumiko chuckled softly. "Hard work is good for a young man’s back. Though if he’s too tired to enjoy a holiday meal, he won’t be much company for you, will he, Suzune?"
Suzune felt a warmth rise in her cheeks. "Oba-chan, please. He’s coming as a guest." She looked at her mother, her tone shifting to something more grounded. "And we’re still just taking things step by step. He’s busy with his new firm, and I have my own plans to focus on."
Keiko exchanged a subtle look with her husband, but before either could probe further, the rumble of an engine drifted up from the alley behind the bakery.
Down in the narrow lane, Ren spent nearly three minutes adjusting the position of his Toyota Crown.
He pulled forward, checked the mirror, and straightened the steering wheel until the tyres sat perfectly parallel to the brick wall. A foolish part of him hoped the Crown would make him look stable. Less like the desperate young man who had entered their bakery weeks ago.
He wiped a speck of dust from the wheel, picked up the small Yoku Moku biscuit assortment he had bought for the Akiyamas at the station department store, and stepped into the cool afternoon air.
As he turned the corner, he bumped straight into Hiroshi, who was carrying collapsed wooden bread crates.
"Good afternoon, Akiyama-san," Ren said, bowing quickly. "Thank you for having me today."
Hiroshi balanced the heavy crates against his knee. He glanced briefly at the pearl-white paint before shifting his eyes back to Ren’s face. "Kisaragi-san. Parked out back?"
"Yes," Ren said. "I hope it’s not in the way."
"Delivery isn’t until Thursday," Hiroshi replied casually, setting the crates down without another glance at the car. He looked closely at the faint dark circles under Ren’s eyes. "You look exhausted. Come on upstairs. Dashi’s getting cold."
The vanity vanished instantly, replaced by a quiet embarrassment.
At the genkan upstairs, Ren held out the small Yoku Moku box with both hands.
"This is for everyone," Ren said smoothly. "Just a small gift for the holiday."
Keiko accepted it with a warm bow. "You didn’t have to bring anything, Kisaragi-san."
"I know," Ren said instinctively, causing Suzune to hide a quick smile behind her hand.
The meal began with traditional holiday grace. Ren sat near the end of the table, sitting straight as Keiko poured him hot tea. Fumiko placed a generous portion of simmered taro in front of him.
"Eat up, Kisaragi-san," Fumiko said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Prove to Hiroshi that young people today still have an appetite."
Ren smiled, feeling the initial stiffness in his shoulders loosen. But as the main dishes were cleared and Keiko brought out the botamochi, Hiroshi rested his elbows on the table.
"So," Hiroshi began, his voice level. "QuickMart today?"
"No, Akiyama-san," Ren replied. "I wasn’t scheduled today, so I cleared administration at the office."
"How many shifts are you putting into that convenience store now?"
"Several shifts a week," Ren said. "It provides predictable cash flow while Kisaragi Business Support establishes itself."
"And the firm?" Hiroshi asked. "How many people are actually paying you?"
Ren felt the answer catch against his pride. He was twenty-three, sitting across from the parents of the woman he was courting, forced to lay out his precarious reality.
"Okada-san hired me for a second limited project," Ren admitted, his voice quiet. "Your bakery has a narrow scope in progress. Kawashima-san only has a proposal. I don’t have recurring revenue yet."
Hiroshi nodded once. "Then what happens if Okada-san doesn’t ask you back and Kawashima-san says no?"
"Dad. One question at a time," Suzune interrupted mildly, setting her teacup down.
"I know it’s fragile, Akiyama-san," Ren said, answering directly despite the knot in his stomach. "My firm’s cash flow is still weak. The QuickMart job isn’t pride. It’s necessity until my business can safely support me."
Keiko set down her teacup, her gaze soft but probing. "And the debt, Kisaragi-san? Is it actually getting smaller?"
"Yes. It’s still substantial, but it’s going down steadily."
Keiko nodded approvingly. "Then one more question. Are you serious about Suzune? And if you are, do you actually have time for her?"
Ren immediately became aware that Suzune was sitting less than a metre away. Heat flushed his neck. "I am," he said. "I’m still learning how to make time instead of expecting it to just appear."
Keiko smiled warmly at his answer. Hiroshi took a slow sip of tea, his sharp gaze softening. "Just make sure you’re eating properly. A collapse doesn’t help anyone."
Fumiko looked across the table at Ren. "When you tidy our order system, Kisaragi-san, don’t throw those handwritten cards away just because they’re old. Make them fit if you can."
"I’ll understand what they’re doing before I change anything, Akiyama-san," Ren promised.
By four in the afternoon, the sun sat low over the arcade roofs.
As Ren put on his coat, Keiko stepped toward the balcony window overlooking the rear alley. "Suzune mentioned you came in the Crown, Kisaragi-san. It looks very neat down there."
"Ah, yes," Ren said, pausing. "It’s a modern hybrid model."
"Let’s walk down together," Fumiko said, wiping her hands on her apron with a curious glint. "I haven’t looked at a quiet car like that up close in years."
They gathered near the concrete steps by the back lane. Keiko looked over the polished pearl-white exterior, admiring the clean, dignified lines. "It’s a very sensible, elegant car for your business meetings, Kisaragi-san. You keep it impeccably clean."
"Though I hope you don’t use the back seat for hauling flour bags," Fumiko added dryly, peering through the rear window. "Hiroshi would turn a fine car like this into a delivery wagon in three days."
Ren smiled sheepishly, feeling a warm splash of relief. "Only client files, Akiyama-san."
Hiroshi offered a single, quiet nod from the top landing. Acknowledging his wife’s compliments without adding any of his own.
Keiko and Fumiko bowed politely before heading back inside, leaving Suzune to walk Ren to the driver’s side.
The cool spring air felt refreshing under the soft late-afternoon light.
The cool spring air felt refreshing under the soft late-afternoon light.
"I’m sorry about my father," Suzune said, walking beside him with her hands in her sweater pockets. "He gets defensive about financial safety."
"Don’t apologise," Ren said, stopping beside the driver’s door. "He asked the right questions."
Suzune turned to face him, looking up under the golden light. Standing this close, Ren could smell the faint scent of sweet red bean paste and tea. The physical proximity created a quiet, electric stillness between them. He didn’t step closer, and she didn’t retreat.
"He respects that you answered directly," Suzune said softly, a small smile touching her lips. "Even if he won’t admit it."
"Thank you for inviting me today, Suzune," Ren said quietly.
"Drive safely," she replied, her eyes lingering on his before she stepped back toward the stairs. "You have a busy day tomorrow."
Ren unlocked the Crown, stepped inside, and started the hybrid system. He pulled out of the alley almost silently under electric power, leaving Suzune watching from the top step.
He drove back towards Suite 302 through the quiet holiday traffic. Tomorrow, the holiday rhythm would break. Nanami’s scheduled shift, the bakery paperwork review, and Kawashima-san’s response awaited him.