Page 28 of A Serving of Hope

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As Toshio emerged from Shichijo station and into the street, the wind that surged up from the river was cold enough to make him hunch over. At least he’d opted for his thickest jacket. He glanced down to confirm that its buttons were fastened.

Just two weeks ago, the weather had still been mild enough for him to break into a sweat. Now, as he crossed the Shichijo bridge, he had to turn his collar up against the cold. There was no mistaking it—winter was closing in.

Scarlet maple leaves swirled and danced in the wind. Toshio was reminded of the time he and Miyuki had been to see the autumn colors in the Okutsu Valley, and the night they had shared at a riverside ryokan. It was one of his fondest memories.

That evening, when he’d slid open the veranda doors, a single red maple leaf had come sailing in on the breeze and landed in Miyuki’s hair. She’d dropped it into her cup of sake, a smile spreading across her flushed cheeks. It felt like only yesterday—and like a lifetime ago.

He was more sure of his way this time, and arrived at the Kamogawa Diner in no time.

“Drowsy, was it?” he said to the cat dozing in a sunny patch in front of the restaurant. “You poor thing. Stuck outside with winter on the way.”

Koishi pulled up on a bicycle, a tote bag in its basket. It seemed she’d been shopping for ingredients. “When it snows, we line this basket with the blanket and let him sleep in there. So he can keep warm at least.”

A tender look came over Toshio’s face. “Miyuki used to do that too.”

Koishi glanced at him wordlessly, then slid open the door. “Please, come on in.”

Toshio stepped inside, somewhat hesitantly.

“Ah,” Nagare called out warmly, “good to see you. We’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Me too.” Toshio removed his jacket and draped it across the back of a chair.

“I think you’ll enjoy the food.”

At the sight of Nagare’s confident grin, Toshio felt a rush of anticipation. Koishi guided him to the same seat as last time.

“I must have put you to quite a bit of trouble.” Toshio produced a digital camera and set it down on the table.

“Not at all. Planning on taking photos?”

“Sayo asked me to. Said they’d serve as a reference.”

“You’d better cherish her, you know,” said Koishi, giving him a sharp look. “Or you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“Oh, she’s like a deity in our house. I worship her every day, I promise.” Toshio pressed his hands together as if to demonstrate.

“Will you be having sake again?” asked Koishi as she wiped down the table.

“No, thanks. I want to give this shogayaki my full attention.”

“Right. If you’re not drinking, would you like some rice with it?”

Toshio smiled up at her. “Please.”

Nagare poked his head through the kitchen curtain. “I already have some cooking. The shogayaki will be ready in just a moment.”

“Looks like Dad was one step ahead,” said Koishi proudly.

Toshio’s nose was twitching. “That smells…incredible.”

“Won’t be long now. You just sit tight.” Koishi set a Shigaraki teapot and blue-and-white teacup down on the table, then headed back into the kitchen.

Left alone, Toshio glanced idly around the restaurant. It struck him now just how much it resembled Miyuki’s café. The television and miniature shrine that sat on a shelf hanging from the ceiling, the newspapers and magazines on the counter…

When Toshio said he wanted to eat the shogayaki again, he’d meant it. But what he truly wanted to know was how Miyuki was getting on, and where life had taken her. Was she still running Hibiscus? Had she found someone new? He hadn’t had the courage to find out for himself, but he couldn’t bear not knowing either. Not that finding out would make any difference at this point.