Page 26 of A Serving of Hope

“Absolutely. Her kara-age chicken and hamburger steaks are out of this world. Of course, she always claimed they were nothing special, that it was only because she made them every day at the café. I usually stick to small portions, but whenever I went to Miyuki’s, I’d stuff myself silly. I just couldn’t help it.” Toshio sheepishly rubbed his stomach. “A bit like today, actually.”

“Right,” said Koishi flatly. “And pork shogayaki was your favorite of the lot.”

A smile had spread across Toshio’s flushed face. “It’s a dish I’ve always loved. Back when Miyuki and I were dating, we used to eat it all the time. That’s why she made it to mark us being together for another year.”

“Can you describe it to me?” asked Koishi, homing in on her target.

“Well, as I’ve aged, I’ve developed a taste for richer flavors—and this dish was the perfect example. Sayo cooks things very mildly, I think out of consideration for my health, but Miyuki seasoned it just the way I liked it. The pork slices were drenched in this thick brown sauce, a bit like the one you have with yakiniku. Went perfectly with a bowl of white rice.” Toshio gulped as he recalled the taste.

“A thick, yakiniku-style sauce that went well with rice,” said Koishi, making a note. “Anything else that stood out?”

“It wasn’t quite as sweet as yakiniku sauce. More of a soy flavor. Miyuki was always boasting that it was her secret blend.”

“And what cut of pork are we talking about? Loin or belly?”

“Loin, I think. Not as thickly cut as usual—more like the sort of slices you’d use for sukiyaki. She’d fry it with cabbage, onion, spring onion, and bean sprouts. That was about it.”

Koishi bent forward, pen racing across her notebook as she took down his every word. “Right. I think I just about get the picture. And if you want us to recreate it, I’m guessing that means you and Miyuki have broken up.” She looked him in the eye. “Otherwise, you’d just ask her to make it for you.”

“Yes. About a year and a half ago, I stopped by Hibiscus as usual, but Miyuki looked like she’d seen a ghost. When she told me what had happened, I was stunned.” Toshio took a final sip of his chilled tea and went on. “See, when we met at that reunion, I told Miyuki my wife had passed away too. That’s how desperate I was for us to hit it off. I never managed to tell her the truth afterward. It turned out one of her friends had found out that Sayo was still alive.” He let out a long sigh.

“You were lying to both your wife and your mistress at the same time?” blurted Koishi, her voice rising. “Sorry, but just how deceitful can one man be?”

“I knew I had to tell Miyuki the truth sooner or later—not to mention Sayo,” Toshio went on in a low voice. “In fact, I was planning on coming clean, divorcing Sayo, and starting a new life with Miyuki.”

“Miyuki must have been devastated.”

“Yes. It wasn’t just that Sayo was alive—the real shock was that I’d been lying to her all that time. She was furious. Said she could never forgive me.”

“Well, obviously!” exclaimed Koishi, nostrils flaring in indignation. “If your wife really had passed away, what you and Miyuki had would be a love story. But she’s alive, which means it was just an affair. That’s quite a distinction.”

“At the reunion I never imagined things would go that far between us. The lie just sort of slipped out.”

“So, what happened next?”

“She told me she never wanted to see my face again, and kicked me out of the café.”

“And that was the last time you saw her?”

Toshio nodded silently in response.

“You said it’s been a year and a half. What made you want to eat the shogayaki again all of a sudden?”

He leaned forward earnestly. “To be honest, I’m having trouble getting over her. I thought if I could just keep eating the shogayaki, it might help break the cycle somehow.”

Koishi gave a puzzled tilt of her head. “Won’t it just make you miss her even more?”

“The other day, I asked Sayo if she could try making shogayaki the way I like it. She replied that I’d have to find her a recipe that matched my preferences. That if she made it her way, she knew I wouldn’t like it. I know it’s horribly selfish of me, but I just feel like if Sayo could make the same dish at home, I’ll finally be able to move on.”

“You really think so? Something tells me it’ll just have the opposite effect. You really are trying to have your cake and eat it too, aren’t you?”

“I can’t really argue with that. But I promise I’m not trying to rekindle anything. You can take my word for it.”

“Right,” said Koishi, closing her notebook. “I guess we’ll leave it at that.”

—

The pair returned to the restaurant. Nagare was busy in the kitchen, but came out to talk to them.