Chapter 09

Miya reacted with extreme tranquility to the announcement that Ryo would live with them. She smiled at Satoshi and welcomed him. Then she went to take a shower as if the fact that, after all those years, someone came to share the house with her and her father was casual.

Ryo picked up the suitcase in the early afternoon. He informed the bakery owner about the sale of the car and asked her to send someone to Shiromiya's home as soon as the "buyer" arrived. He promised she a large sum in exchange for such a favor. The woman smiled and thanked him, happy at the fortune of finding such a good and generous client.

So Ryo came home and found an old futon in Shiromiya's room. He faced him in a dubious state: euphoria and discomfort. Why he would now share Kazue's room and could be close to his great love. However, an old and uncomfortable futon was not something he was used to. Still, what did it matter? Telling himself that he would sleep on the hard floor if that meant staying close to Shiro, he arranged his things in an unoccupied drawer and prepared to enter the family axis.

It was already night when he showered and finished organizing his clothes. Shiro no appeared, but he heard his gentle voice for the child. Also, he heard a lot of Miya. God! she was a handful chatterbox. She spoke more than he was used to hearing. Miya seemed to know about everything, about everyone. Then he approached the bedroom door and began to watch them, sitting at the small table, in front of scattered books.

"Ai" she spelled a kanji, showing it to her father. " Love." She repeated. "Tell me, Otousan, phrases with "love"."

Shiromiya looked uncomfortable at the mention of the feeling and was silent for a few seconds.

Ryo watched him closely. His rigid state also betrayed tiredness. Shiro would probably love to be in bed, resting. However, he seemed even more eager to stay with the child while he did his homework. She held a short pencil shakily and tried to imitate the kanji on a sheet of white paper.

" Love ..." Kazue murmured.

" What is love?" insisted the child.

Ryo looked forward to the answer.

"Love is what I feel when I see you sleep," Shiro replied, simply.

The merchant smiled at the return, suddenly realizing that he was not jealous of it. This was unbelievable, given that he used to be jealous of any expression of emotion from Shiromiya. He remembered when he had crises of insecurity regarding anyone who could attract the attention of the other.

"And when I'm awake?" the question was furious. " Do not love me?"

Shiromiya laughed. Ryo leaned against the door, curious about the clash.

"I sure do," he said. " I love more than anything in this world. You are my favorite person."

Then, both exchanged affection, touching their noses.

One day, Shiromiya had said that to him. At that moment, he confessed to Miya. Realizing that he also had the same feelings, he smiled. He wanted Shiro to know that Miya was the fruit of their love, of their souls, just as he knew. However, skeptical as he was, and after all he had been through, Shiro would probably react sharply when telling him such a thing.

Suddenly, Shiromiya turned towards the door, looking uncomfortable to see him. Then he turned to Miya again, telling her to keep the books.

Ryo realized it was time for dinner and approached the table.

"We need water," he heard the voice by the stove. " I'll get it from the well."

As soon as Shiro disappeared in the back of the house, Miya appeared again before him. She came with that enigmatic smile, which seemed to say more than words. He smiled back, eager to fill her infant cheek with kisses.

" I know you've already made Otousan suffer."

Ryo's surprise at the sentence was so clear that he couldn't even open his mouth.

"You know this is your last chance, right?" She continued. "So, don't make him suffer anymore, otherwise I'll have to hurt him, Dad ... And I don't want that."

Was that little girl threatening him? It was adorable and, at the same time, revolting. It was his daughter, God's sake! How could a daughter talk to her father like that?

" And how will you hurt me?" Asked, holding himself up not to laugh in front of her.

"I don't need size and strength," she said. " I will always have my way.

Then she leaned back on his arm, holding him tight. The matter seemed closed, but Ryo could n't resist messing up her hair in a friendly motion. Sakamoto appeared in his thoughts, and he imagined Shin's reaction when he saw her, with that pose so similar to his.

His eyes widened.

Kami-sama protects him! Ryo couldn't let Shin get close to her! She was already dreadful without being as rude as his friend!

Shiro came back carrying a bucket of water. He put the liquid in a pot on top of the woodstove and then approached another one at the table. Again, they would eat stew. Not that Ryo was thinking of complaining, but he couldn't help being surprised that everything in that house followed a rhythmic and uniform rhythm, without major changes.

Miya seemed used to such a thing, as she ate quietly. Then, he started to turn to Shiro to talk about the bond that united them. However, the cold look demotivated him. He only touched on the subject when bedtime came.

Ryo sat on the futon, opposite Shiromiya, and saw him arranging the clothes he would wear the day after.

" You wake up early?" Asked, searching for a subject.

Shiro stared at him as if he just then realized he was sharing a room. He didn't answer.

"How do you control her?" Ryo changed the subject, trying to arouse any attitude in the other, beyond indifference.

" As well?"

It worked. It seems that Miya was a subject that always awakened Kazue.

" Well, she's a different child ..."

" Are you calling my daughter abnormal?"

Shiromiya's angry look frightened him.

" Of course not! She just looks like Shin. Did you notice?"

" My Miya has nothing from Sakamoto-san!"

What do Shiro mean, nothing? She was a female miniature of Hirohito's nephew. However, he did not want discussion, on the contrary, he desperately sought sympathy.

'I meant to say that she is too smart for your age.'

At the words, Shiro even tried to hide his pride but found himself talking animatedly.

" Despite having missed school many times last year, she passed with praise and is the best student in the class. The only subject that has difficulty is reading. So, I try to help her."

Ryo was surprised. It was interesting that, even without knowing how to read and write, Shiromiya strove beyond his strength to support the little girl. He was ashamed. It was his responsibility.

"I can help her," he offered.

" Why? She is nothing of yours."

The phrase burned in his chest. He remembered the touch of the child's skin, the way she, as an adult, proudly called him a father ... And even then, the way she felt completely at ease in his presence. How he wanted to explain to Shiromiya that Was Miya both Shiro's and his?

" I'm living here ..."

" How long will you stay?"

Only then did she notice that Shiro didn't expect him to stay long.

"Until you send me away," he joked.

The other did not say a word when he answered. Ryo sighed. In the distance, a boom announced an approaching rain. It was a rather humid time of year.

" I would like to install a pump to pipe the water. I think it would make your life a lot easier."

Silence.

" I could even put a generator ..."

" Save your car money for your needs."

"My needs are here now," he was blunt. "Please let me show a little gratitude. You told me that you took me in because one day I helped you. It was generous within its limitations. So, I want to demonstrate that I can also be."

" Why? What would that interest you?"

" I changed, Shiro."

The other lowered his face. For a few seconds, Ryo waited for a replica that didn't come.

" Don't you believe that people can change?"

Shiro sighed.

" Perhaps. Getting poor would force you to change."

"It wasn't for lack of money, Shiro," he said frankly. "It was because of you."

More silence. Realizing that Shiro seemed to mull over the words, Ryo continued.

"When I found the room empty that morning ... I died somehow. I realized at that moment how much I loved you ... How special you were ... And how much I didn't appreciate it. I just wanted ..."

"Look," interrupted him. " I need to get up early." He got up and went to the lamp. "Let's go to sleep," he said, ending the matter.

Then, the light was turned off. Ryo lay down, exhausted in all possible ways, and stared at the silhouette that, in the dark, was moving towards the futon. The wind was blowing in the woods of the simple house and he could feel a light breeze touching it. Soon, the drops arrived, and time seemed to run fast, while his eyes remained open, getting used to the darkness, watching the person from the opposite side of the room.

Unlike him, Shiromiya fell asleep immediately. Of course, Shiro woke up early and spent the whole day working, no wonder he was exhausted. He heard the quiet snoring and also closed his eyes.

Outside, the storm intensified. Thunder followed one after another. Ryo opened his eyes again, unable to get to sleep. And it was at that moment that he heard a sound different from the rain. He looked at the door and saw it opening. Within seconds, the image of a small girl appeared.

Ryo wanted to call Miya, ask her if everything was okay, but the girl snuck into Shiromiya's covers. And, as low as a breath, he heard a childish whimper.

"Mr. Mustache is scared of the "boom" ..." She whispered, her voice breaking. " Stop the "boom" ..."

Shiro shifted under the covers and hugged her, holding her against his chest.

" It's not "boom" his peaceful voice tried to calm her down. "Tell Mr. Mustache that it's just rain."

Ryo froze while listening to the low cry, compressed against the other. He also heard Shiro's murmur, indicating that he was trying to calm the child. Then, after a few minutes, everything calmed down.

His heart ached when he realized that they both comforted themselves without him. Miya had Shiro, and Shiro had Miya. He was practically an intruder, of no use. If he left the next day, they wouldn't miss him.

Miya told him that Shiro cried every night before going to sleep. This time, he felt, it would be he who would shed tears.

***

Aiko Mamoru bowed slightly at the table, placing a cup of black coffee on it. The old man in front of him smiled gratefully.

"Is the book nice, Watanabe-san?" He asked gently.

"Certainly. Dumas has the power to make me live adventures that I never imagined in my life."

Mamoru smiled again and walked away, giving the man the privacy to continue his contact with the written word.

It was even comical that he didn't like to read, since, at that moment, he owned a bookstore. Of course, sometimes he flipped through a page or another, read poetry here, a short story there, but nothing that caught his attention. He preferred butais or cinemas. Unfortunately, I had not been to either of them for a while.

The sound of the bell over the door rang. The notice that a new customer was arriving made him turn to the exit, wanting to greet the next buyer with a smile. However, the demonstration became emotion, as soon as he saw the one who entered.

Jiro Saito remained the same, even though they were both over thirty. The satin skin and intense eyes measured him for a few seconds before Jiro seemed to force a smile that was so self-conscious that Mamoru blinked for a while, before walking quickly towards him, throwing himself into his arms.

" Jiro ...?" He whispered against his friend's ears and felt that he was holding him tightly against him.

"I thought the time might have erased my image from your mind," he heard the desperate confession, between sobs, and then found himself crying too.

They let go just enough so they could look at each other.

" And Shiro?"

"He's fine," he said, not wanting to give any wrong impression. " We have so much to talk about."

Mamoru nodded.

It was too long to catch up.

***

Jiro watched the movement in the streets through the huge window. Sitting at a small table, he sipped his coffee before turning to the friend in front of him. He smiled again. Aiko was as beautiful as the sakura in the spring. He remained with that kind, extremely sensual look. It was as if time had not hurt that generous heart.

" How is Miya? " Aiko asked, after a minute of silence.

After the bold greetings, the two began to exchange stories about the time they were apart. When he learned that Shiro was a father, Mamoru was surprised.

" Well ... " Jiro searched for words. "She is beautiful. Although not a biological daughter, she has the same look as Kazue."

" And her way? Is it delicate and sweet like a flower?"

A fit of laughter flooded Saito's throat and it took him a while to control himself.

" Let's say that sometimes we forget that she is eight years old. Miya is very mature."

" On a positive side?"

" Do you know when Shin drives us crazy and makes us want to kill him? And then, does he touch us with a caring, loving look? And as soon as that happens, do we end up forgiving him, even without deserving it?"

There were no answers, and Jiro did not dwell on the fact that the other seemed unwilling to speak about the third.

" So, she has this personality that leaves us in conflict: to strangle that beautiful neck or to fill the pink cheeks with kisses? However, despite his strong personality, she is a lovely child. Shiro did an incredible job."

Aiko joined her hands with Jiro's.

" I'm so happy! Why didn't he come with you?"

" Kazue has extra expenses. Miya has health problems. And he doesn't accept help. Shiro think Miya is his responsibility and is capable of provoking a fight if I try to give any money. So, he was unable to travel."

" I can go to him " Mamoru perked up at the possibility. " I'm so glad you came!" He squeezed the other's fingers. "As soon as you left, I regretted telling not to get in touch. Heavens! How I suffered all these years without knowing if you were both well."

Jiro smiled.

" If I had known that Ryo Satoshi had married, I would have come sooner."

The sentence made Aiko raise his eyebrows.

" But he didn't get married."

That time it was Saito who was confused.

"Not? Shin told me ..." the voice died. For a few seconds, they both looked numb. " Why would he lie to me?"

Aiko shrugged.

" How are you two?"

Despite the seriousness of Sakamoto's lie, Mamoru's bleary eyes were a far more urgent matter. So, Jiro did not resist the subject.

"We are not," the other explained. " We haven't been in five years."

Saito knew. Shin had already told him that, but he wanted to confirm.

" You are with someone? " The question burned in his chest, making him yearn for the answer.

Mamoru denied it and something exploded in Saito.

" I once told Shin that if he didn't value you, I would fight for you ..."

Aiko smiled. However, immediately, he turned his body backward, seeking the look of the client who was reading at the next table. When he saw Mr. Watanabe engaged in a book, he breathed a sigh of relief.

" Can we talk about it at night?" He asked anxiously. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Saito winced.

" Of course. Do you want to go somewhere special?"

" Who knows, here at home ..."

The hint was so clear that Jiro seemed to wonder if he was facing the same man he had left behind in 1945. What had happened to Aiko at that time? It didn't take long to notice that the words were driven by loneliness.

Then, it came into conflict. Did he want to take advantage of that situation? He thought of Shin and the years that Hirohito's nephew had to destroy Mamoru's barriers. He did nothing. The chance now changed sides.

"I still love you" he confessed, not wanting to leave doubts about his intentions.

Mamoru was shy and looked at the next table again. Then, he returned to Jiro, in a smile so welcoming that the other had to restrain himself not to send Aiko's client away and take him upstairs.

"We go have a nice dinner," he said. " So don't be late."

Discreetly, Saito raised his friend's hands to his lips and passionately kissed his pale fingers.