And this is it. I went back and forth over how to execute it, until finally putting it together last night. I only wish I could have written it earlier, but I’m glad that I can at least give the story this epilogue. Thank you to the readers around the world, for loving this story just as much as I have. I truly appreciate all the support I’ve received over the past two years. And for one last time, here are the links to this story on FF.net and AO3.
Omake: Kasutera
Sunlight warmed the porch, as Hiko removed the lid from the box in his lap. Six teacups were nestled within, each in its own compartment. There wasn’t a single flaw in the off-white ceramic. The underglaze had turned out well: a painted maple leaf in the bottom of each cup, as if it had fallen straight from the branch, and below the rim, delicate red lines crossing each other. Like the so-called strings of fate, like the vessels that carried the blood of life.
Carefully, he examined every cup, to ensure no breaks had occurred during the journey. Indeed, they remained pristine. As expected of his own handiwork. It had been sixteen years since a set of matching cups was given to his apprentice’s family, and this time, he would be the one to personally gift it.
Satisfied, he closed the box and tucked it under the porch. There, it would be concealed until he presented it tomorrow. They were going out tonight, so it was best to keep it safe.
Hiko rose, and entered the house. It was completely silent, and he had to enjoy it while he could. He had arrived in Tokyo with the morning sun, and naturally, the Himura family had been eager to see him. Then, his idiot apprentice and the tanuki woman had gone to the train station, to pick up their friends. The older brats had left for the fish market, to purchase tonight’s dinner. Well, he deserved a break from their attention anyway.
Something stirred in the hallway, and Hiko quietly moved to the front door. Then, he stood on the first step, directing his full attention to listening. The footsteps were light, the ki practically bursting with intent.
The door opened.
“Stop.” He warned, and the presence did pause. “Where are you going?”
“…out.”
“Is that so?” He had to bend his head downwards, to glare at the child. Long red hair was tousled from sleep, and little hands gripped the edge of the door. No matter how much Tae cooed over Himura Sumire had grown so big, the girl brat would always be small to him. She was as small as her brothers had been at four years old. “Well, at least you were honest, representative of the flower you were named after. And you know why you were left behind.”
“I can be good!” She protested and stamped her foot in indignation. It only disproved her point. “And I don’t want to nap anymore.”
“In life, it doesn’t matter what you want. Go back to bed.” Otherwise, she’d be even more annoying in the evening, during the cherry blossom viewing. The taste of sake would be ruined.
“No!”
Of course, his apprentice’s only daughter had to inherit his stubbornness, along with his coloring. “I’ll tell you an embarrassing story about your father, if you do.”
“Which one?”
“The story in which he fell into a patch of poison ivy and then ran to the nearest stream, only to be swept along with the current.”
“Keita-nii told me that. You were watching the whole time, but you brought Tou-chan out of the water.”
To him, the stream had been shallow enough to walk in. “Ah, brat three has a good memory. I told him that one when he was your age, and to brats one and two before him. If you’ve heard it, then I give up.” He opened the door wider to let himself in and pushed Sumire’s shoulder with two fingers. She took a few steps before stopping again.
“Wait!”
“What is it now?”
“I want to hear the one where he saw Kaa-chan in your pottery house.” She meant his place in Kyoto, and when his idiot apprentice came to him, to learn the final techniques of Hiten Mitsurugi.
He laughed. “It sounds like your mother already told you.”
“But I want to hear what you saw.”
“What I saw?” He propped his chin on his hand. “Hmph. Your father looked like a fish, his mouth was open like one. He just stared at her, he was making her nervous with how speechless he was. In short, he was an idiot. An idiot, who was loved. And he’s still a loved idiot, which is why we’re having this unnecessary amount of celebration with too many people.”
“Oh.” She pouted. “I don’t like the way you tell it. Kaa-chan tells it much better.”
“You were the one who asked for it, girl brat. Now, before I get annoyed. Go. To. Bed.”
“Aww.”
***
Tae hummed to herself, as she carried the kasutera.
She had been in Tokyo for the last two weeks, managing the Akabeko. Tsubame’s little daughter was teething and her impatience was reminiscent of a young Yahiko. He was guest teaching at another dojo with their son, Tsubame hurriedly explained as she struggled with the flailing toddler, but the four of them would arrive on time for tonight’s outdoor picnic.
“Hello?” She stepped into the Himura household, and realized she had to raise her voice above the noise. When she entered the dining room, they greeted her. “Oh, all four of you are here.”
With his copper hair in a high ponytail and a wooden sword in his belt, Kenji was sixteen and would have made for a young samurai in the old era. He was trying to steer Sumire away from his cup of black coffee.
“Add sugar.” She insisted.
“I won’t, so shut it.” He was forcing down sips, trying to toughen up.
“You should, it’ll help with your terrible temper.” Eight-year-old Keita didn’t even look up from his book, as he gave the sharp remark. Of the children, his hair was the darkest, and his demeanor the calmest.
“Okay, let’s behave. Tae-san’s here.” Shinpei was wearing the Kamiya dojo’s uniform, and it was likely he would inherit his mother’s teaching position someday. He gave his characteristic, cheerful smile. “Is that kasutera?”
“Kasutera! I love that, it’s fluffy and delicious.” Sumire looked as if she was going to drool.
Tae set the cake on the kitchen counter. “I brought it from the Akabeko. We can share some of it, for a snack.” It seemed that a sweet tooth came with red-tinted hair. When the plate of cubed kasutera was served, they instantly quieted, savoring the treat.
While she poured herself some coffee, Hiko appeared, nonchalantly sitting next to her as if he had seen her an hour ago, and not half a month. “Well, I had to find a new hiding place.”
“That’s alright. I’m sure they’ll like it.” She thought the cups were beautiful and symbolic. Fitting, for this family they both held dear.
“How have things been here?”
“Better than I expected, I think two more weeks will be enough. Then, I’ll return to the Kobeko.”
“Good. Let’s go back together.”
Tae smiled. Despite their own places in Tokyo and Kyoto, she was also fond of the house on the Tokaido road. It was an art-loving home, with her favorite paintings displayed on the walls and some of his works arranged in the rooms. Natsuko’s last letter was framed on the altar for her family, so “it wouldn’t be lost again”, as he said. Sometimes, he stayed there by himself if he needed to sell his pottery. When she had to assist the Kobeko’s staff, she was there alone. They had their own lives to lead, but when they could, they always came back to each other.
“Of course. I missed you too.” She said, and at that, he smirked.
In the distance, there was the sound of faint chatter.
“Oh, it sounds like Tou-chan and Kaa-chan are home.” Keita set down his chopsticks. “I can definitely hear Misao-san and the girls…poor Aoshi-san. It must have been endless on the train.”
“Then, they must be tired. Megumi-san and Sano-san are probably here too, so let’s properly greet everyone.” Shinpei suggested and took the hand of his younger sister.
“Guess so.” Kenji shrugged, but he followed his siblings, catching up to them with his longer strides. Tae looked at Hiko, who only stared back at her.
“Why don’t we join them?”
“It’s a pain to get up.”
“You don’t mean that.” She paused. “Dear.”
She continued referring to him as Hiko-san in public, but at the start of their relationship, she was unsure of how to address him in private. He had given her an incredulous look at Seijuro-san, snorted derisively at Sei-san, and didn’t respond to just Seijuro. Giving up, she had tried ‘dear’. And always, he told her not to repeat it. But he never rejected it, his face turning red without fail. After all this time, it was still satisfying to get a reaction out of him.
“Fine,” He grumbled, and Tae beamed at the growing color in his face. “But I’ll stay here if you say that again.”
“It’s a deal.” She stood, feeling very happy.
Their group crowded onto the front steps, watching as the gate slowly opened. And in one voice, they called out. “Welcome back!”
Jikoshoukai shimasu! Jikoshoukai means self introduction.
自己紹介 じこしょうかい
じこ ‘jiko’ means oneself and しょうかい ‘shoukai’ means introduction.
じこしょうかいしまあす。 ‘Jikoshoukai shimasu’ means “I will do my self-introduction.” or “I will introduce myself.”
You’ll actually hear this word a lot in anime now that you know what it is. It’s really important in Japanese culture! In fact, these are jikoshoukai, even if they don’t say ‘jikoshoukai’:
So polite~! And me~! ╰(▔∀▔)╯
Of course, you could just say your name and where you work, but you can also include where you’re from, what you like, your hobbies, all sorts of stuff!
You know what else is fun about Japanese culture? Word play. For instance, ‘jiko’ with different kanji (事故) also means ‘accident’, as in a car crash type of accident...
じこしょうかいします。
“Jikoshoukai shimasu.”
aka, “Let me tell you about my accident….”
