Worry
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I remembered a faint memory before my parents separated. It was there in Hakone, where my father taught me his philosophy, his way of living. We were walking along the main road of the town, listening to the gentle sway of the violet flowers as he told me the sole phrase I’d lived my life by. 

“Everything will be okay.”

I repeated it to myself whenever my path felt uncertain, such as now. I decided what road to take, yet I was afraid of what was to come. Afraid of both past, present and future, I questioned what was there to look forward to. 

Soon after we got off the bus at night, I brought us to the local ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn, since ryokans were more affordable out here in the countryside than regular hotels. My wallet said goodbye to the last cash before flying into the receptionist’s hand. 

The ryokan consisted as a villaesque structure neatly lit by lanterns hanging from gabled arches. Its lobby stood more elegantly than the greeny entrance, tatami mats aligned in rows on the floor while square patterns of lights and chandeliers brightened the space. At the front desk, the nakai-san guided us to our room, passing each guest room with different kanji nameplates. Coincidentally our room had the name ‘youhi’. 

“Finally…” I slid the fusuma door open as I collapsed onto our room’s floor, taking off my slippers in the foyer. My body ached, moreso my foot. Qawasumi and Sorah understood and took off their slippers also. On the low-lying table of the guest room, three fresh yukatas anticipated our arrival. I crawled towards it and took one. “These are yukatas. You wear them inside the ryokan.” 

“I see… So this is the usual indoor clothing at an inn?” Sorah took the second one, inspecting with his one hand while his other held his crutch. He then faced Qawasumi. “Ruri, you wear one too.”

“I- I know that.”

“The bathroom is over there to the left,” I added, “Sorah and I can change here.” 

Qawasumi huddled over to the lavatory while Sorah and I undressed. That was a bad way to word it. We changed out of our clothes and into the yukatas. I showed Sorah how to properly wear one as I realized I forgot to tell Qawasumi too. 

“These ‘yukatas’ are similar to the outdoor robes in Waqwaq,” He reassured me, as he already tied the sash on by himself. “She’ll figure it out soon.”

“I hope so. There’s also something I’ve been meaning to ask…”

“Hm?”

“Are you still worried about your family?”

I finally addressed the thing that had been eating me up from the inside, where I forced myself to say that it was okay, okay to worry. The first taste of reality from the events that folded not even a day before. Sorah’s family, his parents, his siblings. Even I wasn’t sure if they’d escaped even after seeing them flee the premises. Sorah let himself down into one of the legless chairs, putting up one leg and staring at the hanging scroll hanging by the wall. Outside the veranda pitch darkness roamed. 

“Of course, I’m worried.” He gave a complicated smile, one I was unable to decipher. Then his demeanor as his gaze fell towards the floor. “But you told me they did run away, right?”

I swallowed, knowing what I saw. “I did.”

“In that case, I should worry less.” Sorah tilted his head, adjusting the rising sun headband wrapped around his hair. His red charm lay dormant on the floor. The crickets buzzed their night lullaby in the background. “There’s no way to get back to our world, so all I can do is hope. Even still, my mind still dwells on the thought.”

Once the three of us were all changed, I did not remember when or how we fell asleep. 

I woke up to the sound of rain pouring down over the roof. The morning smell of drizzle entered my nose as I brought myself back straight. Looking over to the veranda, the clouds clustered above the sky trying to let down their water. I looked down to see myself in a blanket. I was just about ready to… fall back asleep. My head dipped down while my eyes blinked slower with each shutter, before I fell to my left side. I nearly fell asleep from my overtime nap until audible snoring echoed through the room. Just who snored this loud?

My eyes were still shut. Being the lazy self this morning, I tried to infer where it came from. Various theories flung around my head until I pinpointed the source of the noise. Right beside me where I faced. I opened my eyes. 

There in front of me Qawasumi slept albeit gracefully with her messy long hair and gentle posture insinuated by the blanket. I turned to my right, and apparently all three of us were sharing one. I could do nothing but sigh. 

The three of us woke up by near noon, and it was still raining. I took Qawasumi and Sorah by the dining room, where we made our hasteful breakfast. Sorah was inclined to try everything he saw, while Qawasumi only ate a select few she’d come to like throughout the journey. As steaming miso soup entered my mouth holding the bowl to my face, I came to the understanding that the more I observed the two the more polar opposites they were.  

Later we returned to the room to change our clothes back, and packed up our baggage. I could only afford us one night, unfortunately. But our goal wasn’t the ryokan. If I could remember where my father’s place was, then that would be great. It had been around… eleven years since my parents separated. We bowed to the receptionist desk. 

Rain kept coming; Water raced across the paths of the sidewalks before the storm drainage caught their mighty flow. Droplets trickled down the arched roofs of Hakone, ambushing any people trying to seek cover without an umbrella. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the gloomy clouds, as rare gleams of sunlight illuminated the narrow streets. 

“‘Umbrella’? What’s that?” Qawasumi questioned in a harkening tone. I gave Sorah one, who soon figured out how to activate the seemingly foreign mechanism.

“It’s a ‘qasa’, Ruri. Like a parasol. Remember the courtesans that came by that one day in Itogutshi?” He repeated it in Wawaqi. Passerbyers sideëye’d us, mainly at Sorah and Qawasumi before continuing their walk. It was expected. Two people with blonde and silver hair suddenly appear in a rural town far from the metropolitan area… I was sure I would be shocked too. 

Now, I focused on finding my father’s house as a priority. Since I hadn’t seen him in such a long time, my heart ached as to whether his home would even exist anymore. Or if he’d moved out, or kodokushi… lonely death. I had my faith in him, he gave me lessons that I’d followed until now, and his philosophy on life had brought me this far. 

Large hills hugged the town as human settlements were built upon them. Long oscillating roads were frequent and soaked in water, yet small crowds of people walked with umbrellas in their hands. Sidewalks barely bore any cracks as plant life lived symbiotically with concrete. Some buildings were constructed of brick and others followed modern architecture with an oriental twist. We found ourselves navigating a confined walkway, where only one person could fit through the winding path. A group of young women headed in the opposite direction of us, and I made sure to give them way to the left. However Sorah and Qawasumi didn’t pick up the cue.

“Ite!...” One of the girls bumped into Qawasumi’s shoulder, as the troupe stopped. One of the women accidentally stepped onto the road. A car passed downhill. Sorah sprung and pushed one back to the side while I pulled the rest back. The vehicle barely missed Sorah, while he stood with his one crutch. His umbrella flattened at the car’s approach. 

I bowed. “I’m terribly sorry!” 

Sorah followed, and gestured for Qawasumi also. “I… Sorry…”

Qawasumi stayed silent. The clique soon went their way, whispering, “What was up with those foreigners?” as they disappeared around the curb. Qawasumi let her hands droop while she stood from her bow. 

“Ruri, I’ve been keeping it low for a while.” Sorah broke the silence first, “Why don’t you try to learn the language? It would be easier to communicate with the villagers.”

“Then you two can communicate, because I don’t need it.” She kept her eyes glued to the ground, her face tensing. “I won’t learn.”

“Ruri… Can you listen?” He responded solemnly, while I held up the umbrella for them. She nodded slowly. “This is a new experience for me too. I was afraid to unlock other Branch Classes, I thought ‘why learn another language if I’m fine with this one?’... Just like how I met you back in that day, if we never took the chance to learn about others then we wouldn’t know each other.” 

“But I can’t, Sorah. I…” 

He left it at that, and we continued along the path. 

Things were deeper than I could perceive. Qawasumi had a fear towards learning languages and communication. I always pondered why her attitude was intense and harsh at the beginning. Her ambivalence conveyed a natural-defense mechanism, something I couldn’t describe as a simple ‘tsundere’. Ambivalent nature always had a reason. 

Yet Sorah never sighed, nor showed her any judgement. He never mistreated her or exploited her vulnerability. Perhaps that was what Qawasumi liked about him, why she thought so highly and wanted to be there to support him. 

In short, Sorah Totshigui was a genuine person. And even he couldn’t hide the hurt in his face. As I led the way, and Sorah and Qawasumi followed, I slowed my pace to put my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me with that expression, before his eyes reposed gently. This young man had the most beautiful smile in the world. 

At the top of the road was a convenience store. How convenient. I zipped open my pouch to find a couple measly coins and pocket lint. I figured that if I could buy a map of Hakone then I would find my father’s house easier, but my money had been burnt for the one-night ryokan. 

“I don’t have any money left, so let’s ask around if they know my dad’s place.” I relayed my thoughts to them two, lowering my umbrella as we took shelter under the convenience store’s eaves. 

“What do you want to buy?” Sorah asked, while Qawasumi squeezed her hair dry. I told him about the map. As soon as I did, he sauntered over to the convenience store with a determined look on his face. He even knew how to enter the sliding doors correctly. 

At one of the nearby shelves he spotted a map of Hakone and took it directly to the counter. I witnessed everything from outside the store, hearing him and the cashier’s exchange. 

“This… I buy.” 

“Sir, do you have a point card?...” The cashier covered her head blushing while Sorah put his hand over the counter. She repeated the same line in English. 

“Point, card?... No, I don't.” 

Was he repeating the words I used back in the Tokyo convenience store?

“That’ll be three hundred yen, sir…” She spoke in English, as Sorah tilted his head. I forgot… He only learned Japanese, not English. I was on the verge of plucking my hair out. Maybe I should’ve paid extra attention in English class. 

The cashier punched the number into a calculator and showed him the price. Sorah, with his still determined face, began rolling up his sleeve. 

“Eh? Eh? Huh?” The employee covered her beet-red face more, taking peeks at him while he revealed his red charm on his wrist. 

“This, I pay.”

Sorah Totshigui… I know I called him a genuine person, but this was too genuine. Just as I was about to walk into the store, someone else did before me. 

“Good afternoon! Why, do you need help paying?” An older man walked into the situation, and immediately understood it. He went to the counter and Sorah stepped aside. “I’ll pay for this young man here.” 

He cracked open his wallet and put three hundred-yen coins into the tray. “Everything will be okay, young man.”

Sorah’s eyes widened, as he rolled his sleeve back. Before long he gave a slight bow. That voice, and demeanor… It only belonged to one person on the planet. I wanted to deny it, I wished I could’ve found him first, but he found us instead. My arms dropped. 

My father.

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