Chapter Three: “The Clod of Earth Dreams of Snow” — Part Twelve
I’d spent the whole morning, since waking up, trying to work out the right place to change.
Changing after work at the office wasn’t going to work, there was somewhere I needed to stop first, and waiting for everyone in the office to leave first would make me too late regardless. Which left the car park at the hotel, a quick change in the car itself. Or, the hotel bathroom?
“Think you’ll get home early today?”
My husband asked, prepping that evening’s dinner from the morning.
His face showed absolutely no sign of suspecting what ridiculous plan I’d actually put together.
“Today… I’m not sure, honestly. I’d like to wrap up early if I can.”
What kind of expression was I even wearing while saying that?
“Good for business at Setchan’s place, at least.”
“Where did Setchan suddenly come from?”
The old university nickname, dusted off out of nowhere, left me faintly thrown.
“Christmas, and all that.”
“I see…”
Neither what exactly was and all that nor what there was to see was clear to me. Once he’d finished eating, he washed the dishes while I opened up something equally dusty, like an old yearbook.
“Looking forward to dinner tonight too, Amamiya-kun.”
“Oh, Amamiya-kun, haven’t heard that in a while.”
He greeted himself with the same easy familiarity you’d use on an old friend. Unlike back then, I actually was an Amamiya now too.
“We kept calling each other that for a while even after we married, I think.”
“Did we? Ah, right, before we became a family of three. Still had that university-extension feeling to it.”
“Even now you still remind me of your student days sometimes.”
Good or bad, that same lightness in him hadn’t changed a bit. He cleared his throat.
“So, Mama… what do you say to a fresh page in a youth that hasn’t quite closed the book yet?”
“Ha, trying to sound smooth and I have no idea what you’re actually asking.”
I dried the last of the washed plates and chopsticks and set them on the rack.
“Um, excuse me, I’m still eating my breakfast here.”
Our daughter, having listened to her parents’ exchange, insisted on being remembered.
“Egg rice good?”
“So gooood.”
Choking back tears of joy, she was shoveling down egg and rice mixed together, an old favourite of hers. Watching her enjoy a leisurely breakfast despite the time crunch, my husband and I traded a look.
And laughed.
And in the middle of that warm, gentle air, I was lying to my family.
I really had meant to finish work early today. But going home early wasn’t actually part of the plan. I was the one choosing the longer route, myself. Not toward the warmth of family gathered together, but toward the salt-laced wind off the sea.
What had happened to me? Myself, and my family. Two things that had always taken up the largest space in my heart.
And now there was a third space, carved out alongside them.
Looking into it, I already knew what I’d find there: the view of a hotel overlooking the sea.
Crammed into the car, banging my elbows and knees more than once trying to change in that cramped space, I looked down at the discarded suit and let out a long sigh. Steeling myself, I stepped out into a wind sharp with the sea’s cold breath.
Ears burning, I made my way to the usual room, glanced down at my own outfit, muttered this is red, and knocked.
“You know, I really think you should just have a card key, Yuki-sa—”
Kai, opening the door mid-sentence, stopped dead at the sight of what was standing on the other side of it. I waited for her to move, say something, anything, and the silence stretched long enough that I started to grow impatient.
Eventually, still without a word, Kai stood on her toes and pinched the tip of the Santa hat. What was that about.
“Before anything else, I need you to know that walking from the car park to this hotel’s lobby was, unbelievably, embarrassing.”
Before so much as a hello, that was my first official statement as a lifetime-first Santa Claus.
And, of course, there’d been someone there. That cosmic hotel friend she’d mentioned before, in the lobby. I knew instantly, impossible not to, given how strange they were. Even seated, the sheer, remarkable height and leg length was unmistakable. Hair shifting colour with the light, eyes doing the same depending on the angle, a beauty like something carved from clear glass, and I was thoroughly stunned, right up until I noticed the half-eaten cream puff in their hand and the smear of cream at the corner of their mouth.
That bizarre person had lit up at meeting a Santa for the first time in their life, and started angling for a present on the grounds of not having committed a single bad deed in five million years, so I’d fled in a hurry, all the way here. Running had left an entirely un-wintry sweat down my back.
And after all that, standing in front of Kai, what greeted me was not trembling emotion. Not remotely. Her expression had gone as dry as if she’d just taken the winter air full in the face. What was that thin-eyed, thoroughly disappointed look about.
And I’d gone to all this trouble, exactly as requested.
I nearly said it again, how embarrassing it had been, being looked at like some kind of oddity.
“Why is it this elaborate?”
Her first actual comment, delivered with an unmasked edge of disappointment.
“…It’s not that elaborate, I’m not really that committed.”
Just something I’d bought online, more of a social nicety, a going-through-the-motions kind of thing. Nothing that suggested I’d taken Kai’s request seriously.
Except that didn’t seem to be what Kai was actually getting at.
“I underestimated you. You’re genuinely serious, sincere, someone who follows through on their word.”
“What, why the creepily excessive praise…”
“That’s not praise.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come in, anyway.”
And I was ushered into the room on that note. Kai’s demeanour had shifted far less than I’d expected, and something like resentment flared, you asked for this, and now this, I thought. I’d assumed even someone as contrary as her would be at least a little pleased.
Kai turned to face me at the foot of the bed and bowed her head.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
“Wrong about which part exactly, I wonder.”
“I should have been clearer that I wanted to see a mini-skirt Santa.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Trousers just, the exposure was, disappointing.”
Having stared brazenly at my lower half, she let out a deep sigh on top of it.
“You little… you erotic… brat…”
Trying to avoid crude language, I landed on a different kind of crude entirely. And nearly ground my teeth. Not embarrassment covered as an insult, I could tell that much for certain. This brat was genuinely disappointed. Genuinely darkened by it. Unbelievable.
“Are you making fun of Santa?”
“I’ve never met a real one, so I couldn’t say.”
“Neither have I!”
“Then maybe the real Santa Claus hands out presents in a mini-skirt, for all we know.”
“There is no way that’s tru-u-ue!”
She kept pinching at the hem of my trousers, wistful. I brushed her off.
“I’m going home. Goodbye. Happy new year.”
“At least leave a present before you go.”
“Didn’t you know only good children get presents?”
“If having real guts counts as being a good kid, I think I qualify.”
“How about a present made of my fist?”
I raised it in mock threat, joking, and caught myself. Thinking of everything Kai had lived through, I regretted the carelessness of it instantly. I lowered my hand at once and apologised.
“Sorry. That wasn’t something I should’ve said, even as a joke.”
“I’m not bothered by it.”
“…I’m sorry.”
I said it again. I hated the thought of Kai lumping me in with every other adult in her life.
Somewhere in me, I was afraid of Kai being disappointed in me.