Chapter 344: Being a Parent

The young boss said this far, took the takoyaki out and set it on a plate, then thought for a moment and sprinkled on bonito flakes like wood shavings.

The heat of the takoyaki made the thin bonito flakes, like wood shavings, dance like butterflies.

He carried it over and set it in front of Hanagami Junko.

"Here, one plate of takoyaki, drizzled with spicy ketchup, extra bonito flakes."

Looking at the takoyaki before her, heaped with bonito flakes and drizzled with spicy ketchup, Hanagami Junko was stunned.

She raised her head, a puzzled look in her eyes:

"Boss, how did you know I like to eat it this way?"

Takoyaki is a Japanese specialty, sold in almost every part of Japan, just like Shaxian snacks in Hua country—basically every place has them.

Hanagami Junko loved eating takoyaki; on the road from her home to her high school there was a stall that sold takoyaki.

Every Friday after school, on her way home, she would buy takoyaki to eat.

The way she ate takoyaki was different from everyone else's—she liked to drizzle on spicy ketchup, and liked to have the boss add a lot of bonito flakes.

This was her unique way of eating it.

She couldn't understand why this takoyaki boss would know her preferences; this was Okinawa, very far from Arakawa Ward, and the boss certainly wasn't the takoyaki stall owner she usually went to.

The young boss glanced at Hanagami Junko, pulled out a chair next to her, and sat down.

As if talking to himself, yet as if speaking to her, he said slowly:

"There was a person, a woman probably in her late thirties, close to forty. Every day she would be out on the streets, on the roads, at the market, walking through every alley and lane, holding a photograph of a girl who looked like a high schooler, asking everyone she met."

Every day, aside from work, she spent most of her time holding that photograph and asking people.

Once, I ran into this person on the road.

She held up the photograph and asked me, 'Excuse me, have you seen this little girl?'

I took a look, shook my head to say I hadn't.

Upon hearing my answer, this person's eyes went red; she looked very sad.

I had assumed she would leave and go on to ask the next person—after all, I hadn't seen the little girl in the photograph, and to her I was of no help at all.

But she didn't leave. She pointed at the photograph and said to me, 'If you do see her, she probably has no money on her. Please help me buy her something to eat. I have money here—you can call me, and I'll give you more money.'"

Later, I heard from the neighbors that this person had been searching for the girl in the photograph for half a year, had nearly walked through the entire district, and every day, with every person she met, she repeated the same words she had said to me.

Society itself is not kind; there are plenty of people out for small gains. Some punks, greedy for a small profit, once lied to this person, claiming they had seen the girl in the photograph and even treated her to a meal, and then demanded she pay them back for the meal.

This person actually knew—she knew these punks were probably lying to her—but she was afraid it might be true, and she was also afraid that if these punks went around talking nonsense, it might lead others, if they really did run into the girl in the photograph, to refuse to give her money because of the rumor that she was using the girl in the photograph to swindle people out of meal money.

So she gave the punks the money, only hoping that if someone really did meet the girl in the photograph, they would be able to help her get a meal when she was hungry.

In that half year, she searched for the girl in the photograph for a long time, and spent a great deal of money.

The person who spent half a year holding that photograph and searching—that person, and the person who told me how you like to eat your takoyaki, are the same person."

The young boss said this far, and pointed at the takoyaki.

"Eat up. It won't taste good once it's cold—food should be eaten while it's hot. If you eat it cold, watch out for a stomachache."

The moment the young boss finished telling this story, Hanagami Junko's tears could no longer be held back.

Hunger, fatigue, complaints, sulking—all of it was, in that instant, replaced by an emotion called guilt, filling every part of Hanagami Junko's body and mind.

As if all the grievances she had suffered, all the hardship, over that half year had, at this very moment, reached a breaking point, and all transformed into tears, all pouring out.

Tears fell, pat-pat-pat, from Hanagami Junko's eyes.

She cried, cried till her heart broke. The takoyaki was clearly very spicy, yet she only felt it was salty—she didn't know when, but her tears had already dripped onto the takoyaki.

Paying no heed to the tears falling onto the takoyaki, she ate it bite by bite. Her tears were like a floodgate bursting—no matter how she tried, she could not stop them, could not wipe them away.

With every bite of takoyaki she swallowed, memories from the past rose up in her mind.

……

Every morning, Hanagami Yukiko would wake up early, make breakfast for Hanagami Junko who was still lounging in bed, prepare the bento she'd take to school, and then go wake Junko up.

"Junko, time to get up. If you don't get up now, you'll be late for school."

Hanagami Junko got out of bed, grumbling.

She thought her mother was the one who liked to sleep in.

Because every time she came home from school, she saw her mother Hanagami Yukiko lying on the sofa, asleep.

And so she envied adults—being able to sleep whenever they wanted, without worrying about someone waking them up.

In fact—

Hanagami Junko only ever saw her mother wake up early to call her to breakfast.

She never noticed that her mother, every morning when she got up early to make breakfast, was yawning—that her mother was sleepy too, but if she herself didn't get up early to make breakfast and the bento, her daughter would go hungry, would have no bento to eat at school. She had to get up.

No matter how sleepy she was, she had to get up.

……

That was Hanagami Yukiko taking Hanagami Junko to the market to buy groceries.

Hanagami Junko found her mother annoyingly picky when choosing vegetables—slow, carefully selecting each one—every time buying groceries took forever, and she had to chat with the vendors for ages.

Impatient, she complained to her mother:

"Mom, I'm leaving—my friends are waiting for me."

Hanagami Junko only saw that her mother was slow at picking vegetables, only saw her mother dawdling and being finicky.

She never considered why her mother Hanagami Yukiko was slow at picking vegetables.

Because Hanagami Yukiko didn't want her daughter to eat bad vegetables—she wanted to cook the best for her, to give her plenty of nutrition and health.

Hanagami Junko only saw her mother chatting with the vendors.

She never paid attention to what her mother Hanagami Yukiko was actually saying to the vendors.

"My daughter's about to take exams—she needs to eat better."

"My daughter won an award this time, boss, give me more of your good meat. My daughter loves the pork you sell here the most."

"Boss, your vegetables aren't fresh. Why do they smell like pesticide? A kid eating them won't get sick, right?"

……

That was Hanagami Junko, who had been out playing with friends and classmates and only came home very late.

After she came through the door, Hanagami Tomoko asked her.

"Why did you hang up on me?"

Faced with the questioning, Hanagami Junko shot back: "I already rushed home, didn't I?"

"Do you have any idea what time it is now? You call that rushing home?"

"I'm home right now, so what else do you want?"

At her daughter's tantrum-throwing attitude, Hanagami Tomoko replied: "I was so worried! You hung up on me—how was I supposed to know? You should at least have said something to me."

Hanagami Tomoko's words, however, only drew an even greater fury from Hanagami Junko.

"Mom! You have to give me some space of my own!"

She was furious—why did her mother always call her when she was out with friends, telling her to hurry home? She felt it was so embarrassing in front of her friends; they would think she was a little kid.

She felt she was already a Gao Zhongsheng, so her mother shouldn't act like that. She was no longer a child; she didn't need to be afraid of bad people.

But she had never once considered that Hanagami Tomoko called her only out of concern, worried that something might have happened to her coming home so late.

In argument after argument.

In the very last of those arguments, Hanagami Junko could no longer stand it and ran away from home.

……