Episode Three: What Lies Heavy in the Heart ―February 2033―
Given that Uehara-san had followed me all the way to the staff car park where I’d parked, it felt natural for me to offer her a lift home.
Normally, I’d think it rather inappropriate for a teacher and student to frequently share the journey home… but since Christmas, my resistance has been fading, which I realise is a significant problem.
“When did Valentine’s Day start in Japan?”
Uehara-san asked innocently from the passenger seat.
“When do you think? The Shōwa era, perhaps… I’m not quite sure.”
“Was it that long ago? Surely it’s a bit more recent than that?”
“…I don’t believe the Shōwa era was that long ago.”
Considering the Japanese calendar, Uehara-san and I should be contemporaries, yet there’s a vast gap in our perceptions. I realise once again that a seven-year age difference is quite significant.
“Sensei, I want to go to Lumie. I’m curious about the Valentine’s Fair.”
“There’s no way I’m going with you. I’m not interested in Valentine’s, and I’d probably bump into students.”
“No way? Oh well, I really wanted to pick out chocolates with you, Sensei.”
I couldn’t bring myself to ask, “Are you giving them to someone?” nor could I cheekily ask, “Are you giving them to me?”
The thought of Uehara-san giving chocolate to a man made me feel rather complicated. If she gave it to me, a fellow woman, it would be so-called ‘friend chocolate’. Or, if I received it in my position as a teacher, it would be ‘obligation chocolate’. …Well, I suppose that’s only natural since I’m a teacher.
Anyway, a fog settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
What on earth had come over me? Had I become so bitter about Valentine’s Day that I’d been cursed?
“I heard Mum’s shop is doing a Valentine’s event too. Apparently they’ll give small chocolates to male customers who visit on the day.”
“Um… I know you probably know this, but please don’t go to work that day, okay?”
“I know. You’d just get jealous again, wouldn’t you?”
This was not a good direction. I felt like anything I said would just be teased, so I kept quiet.
“Since it was just Mum and Grandma at my house, I only know about the behaviour or feelings of men receiving chocolates on Valentine’s Day from dramas and stuff, you know?”
“Even if my dad had been around, I wouldn’t understand how a guy feels when he gets chocolate.”
“When you came to my place before, I heard you talking to Mum. Is it just you and Dad in your family? Do you have any siblings?”
This was information I wouldn’t volunteer unless asked. I had to keep it natural, so Uehara-san wouldn’t catch on.
“My father, my mother… and one younger brother who turns twenty this year.”
“Huh. I get why you seem like the eldest daughter, but having a younger brother is a bit surprising. Is he at university now? Can I ask which one?”
I didn’t really want to say it, but I forced myself to answer, prying away the lump in my throat.
“Yes. The University of Tokyo.”
“Eh, isn’t that amazing⁉ Your brother’s super smart!”
Pretending to focus on driving, I smiled without looking at Uehara-san’s face.
Generally speaking, a brother attending Tokyo University would be something to boast about, yet somehow I disliked the idea of Uehara-san praising him.
“…Well, yes. He is my parents’ pride and joy.”
As I answered, I recalled the difference in my parents’ expressions when they looked at my brother versus when they looked at me, and I found myself feeling a pang of sadness all on my own.
I have a younger brother, four years my junior. Smart, quick-witted, and charming, he has always been doted on by our parents. It’s only natural. If I were a parent, I’d be bursting with pride over such a son too.
But when it comes to sibling dynamics, things change slightly. Being constantly compared by my parents as I grew up hurt even someone as thick-skinned as me, at least a little.
Sure, I might have worried them by not making friends, or frustrated them by failing to give charming, appropriate answers. But I believe I have an educational background my parents can accept, and I’ve managed to live without causing trouble for others.
Even so, even now, I still don’t feel recognised by my parents.
Now that I’m twenty-four, instead of my education or career, they’ve started nagging me incessantly about marriage and having children. Whenever I have to go back to my parents’ house, my heart inevitably sinks.
The next time I have to go back is for the Obon festival in August. I’m already feeling gloomy about it.
“If he was your brother, I bet he was good-looking too! Was he popular with the ladies?”
Uehara-san asked innocently.
“I don’t know. We weren’t very talkative siblings, so I wasn’t aware of his love life… But apparently, he got loads of chocolates on Valentine’s Day.”
And then the next day, for some reason, my mother proudly reported this to me. Is it really that satisfying to boast about your son being popular with girls?
The traffic light turned red, and I gently pressed the brake. We’d soon be at Uehara-san’s house.
“Are you sulking, Sensei?”
Inside, I flinched. Had it seeped out despite my caution? Uehara-san really was too perceptive.
“Not at all. I’m not a child, after all.”
Yes, I was an adult now.
After graduating university, I deliberately took the teacher recruitment exam in Saitama Prefecture – neither my family home in Kanagawa nor the more convenient Tokyo commuter belt. It was to live alone.
Cooking for myself… well, I couldn’t exactly say I’d mastered it, but I was undeniably an adult supporting myself.
And yet… could it be I still hadn’t shaken off that inferiority complex? If so, how pathetic.
And at the same time, it was despair. —So how, and when, would I ever sever this dark emotion?
Through the windscreen, I saw people crossing the zebra crossing.
Students in uniforms, mothers pedalling their utility bikes, salarymen in suits – people of different genders, ages, and occupations, all walking the same path right now.
—Suddenly, my heart feels like it might fray.
No one questions the common sense or rules that crossings are for pedestrians, that they have priority. On this road, whoever walks here is protected by law.
Yet people like me and Sasaki-san’s uncle, whose romantic interest lies with the same sex, just that alone means neither the law nor public opinion protects us.
The lights turned green. As I pressed the accelerator, I made a suggestion to Uehara-san.
“…Shall we go? To the Valentine’s Fair. If it’s somewhere a bit further away, the students probably won’t be there. It should be fine.”
“Eh⁉ What’s got into you all of a sudden?”
It was no wonder Uehara-san was surprised. I rarely acted so impulsively, and after saying so firmly I wouldn’t go, I was suddenly inviting her.
“I just changed my mind. I do like chocolate itself, you see.”
Somehow, I felt like resisting. Resisting the prevailing social climate, my parents’ pressure, my feelings of inferiority towards my brother.
It was an utterly unproductive act, but refusing to look away from Valentine’s Day felt like a small act of resistance I could manage right now.
“I don’t mind a pushy teacher, you know.”
Confirming Uehara-san agreed.
I drove the car all the way to a large shopping centre in the distance, with Uehara-san still in the passenger seat.