The Model Family

“Why are you crying?” Kei asks, sounding more awake compared to when he originally answered the phone, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Junko places her free hand onto her sunken face and covers the sobs falling out of her mouth. Her face is tight as she attempts to squeeze her cries back into the depths of her heart.

Listening to Kei’s consistent questions regarding her wellbeing, Junko repeatedly shakes her head. Her hair sways with every turn, and her shoulders shake from her stifled weeps. “I don’t know… I don’t know…” Is all that Junko manages to reply with, not knowing how to voice her inner turmoil.

Junko listens to the anxious breaths over the other end of the line, and tightens her grip on the phone. “Where are you right now, Junko?” Kei asks pointedly, his tone serious and gradually becoming more conscious as the conversation moves along. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Junko replies meekly, “My apartment in Setagaya.”

A jingling noise is heard from Kei’s side, and a wooden creak follows the sound and reverberates through Junko’s ears. “Text me the address,” Kei commands, as his sock-clad footsteps pitter against his floor, “I’ll come pick you up. Be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

“Wait, Kei. I-” Before Junko voices her disapproval of the proposal, the annoying, continuous beep echoes back at her jarringly - signaling Kei has already hung up on his end. Junko sighs a great breath, and sets her phone on the bedside to her right. Bringing her gaze up to meet the open window in front of her, a cold breeze hugs her cheeks as her eyes stare out into the empty night.

Standing up, Junko waltzes over towards the dancing curtains - her feet gliding against the rigid floorboards beneath her. She approaches the star-filled night sky beside the sheer white cloth. Junko places her hands on the window frame, and pushes the structure down to a close. The tickling breeze stops immediately, and is replaced by a suppressed warmth that was hiding in the corners of her bedroom.

Raising her slender hands, Junko grips the gossamer cloth in each respective fist. Squeezing her eyes shut, she aggressively tugs the cloth together and closes the curtains. Junko grabs whatever clothes are ready for wear, and prepares for a night with someone she doesn’t know why she called.

Thirty minutes later, Junko stands behind Kei as he fiddles with his keys outside of his apartment door. Junko positions herself awkwardly in the hallway: crossing her arms and shifting her weight from foot to foot - glancing up and down the building’s hall. Sighing a breath, Junko shakes her head as she looks down to her shuffling toes.

“I’m sorry, Kei,” She mumbles in a bashful apology, “I shouldn’t have called. I’ll just go home, and you go back to bed, okay?” Junko turns towards the direction of the elevator they took up here, and starts to walk towards the exit. But, just before she gets a second step in, Kei reaches out and grabs her arm to stop her.

“The only thing worse than waking me up in the middle of the night,” He says in a joking tone, and a sleepy grin painted on his cheeks, “Is waking me up in the middle of the night for no reason. Now get in here, my family was awake playing cards, so they know you’re coming.” Twisting the hand that is still gripping the key within the lock, the key finds its groove and allows Kei access to his home.

Junko’s eyes shoot open as the boy in front of her drags her into the apartment behind him. With lead feet, Junko begrudgingly follows Kei into his abode, and is welcomed by two women playing cards at a dimly lit kitchen table across the room. At the two’s entrance, the women look up from their game and peer at the entering persons.

“Mom, Akira,” Kei starts, letting go of Junko’s arm, “This is Junko. Junko, this is my sister Akira Okazaki and my mother Sachiko Okazaki.” The two women stand from their chairs and approach Junko and Kei by the door with wide grins on their faces, almost as if they’ve done this countless times before.

Sachiko takes Junko’s fidgety hand in her’s, and claps it closed with her other hand. “My, my!” Sachiko says with that same grin on her face, “With a pretty face like that, you should never be this upset! Come in, I’ll make some tea, dear.” Sachiko leads Junko towards the kitchen table. She passes Kei, who holds a tired smile on his face.

Sachiko sits Junko down at her previous seat and scooches her chair into a comfortable distance. Across from her, Akira sits herself down in her own chair. Her eyes were dead set on Junko: taking in all she has to offer. With this, Junko takes her time analyzing Akira, as well.

She could not be a day over twenty-five - with such a mature and dignified, yet young and bold appeal to her facial features. Her long, blonde hair is pushed back out of her face with a thick navy headband - making her big, blue eyes all the more visible to her peers. Akira had long eyelashes, too, and her lower lashes were nearly long enough to cover two small consecutive beauty marks just at the bottom of her left eye.

“You seem pretty normal to me,” Akira says after her analysis is complete, “So, what’s your issue then?” Her tone isn’t prodding, or tacked with edge - but it’s warm and comfortable, which makes Junko feel a bit at ease in this new environment. The way Akira is so ready to speak on Junko’s troubles in such a casual manner makes her relax into the wooden chair she previously sat so rigidly on.

Junko sighs as she places her elbows on the table - slouching a bit with the new pose. “The real question is what isn’t the issue,” Junko admits jokingly, “But, I’m sorry if it offends you, but I’d rather take my mind off of my problems for right now… if that’s okay with you?” At that, Kei finds solace in the last remaining chair at the table, and welcomes himself into the conversation.

“That’s perfectly fine, Junko,” Kei assures as he scoots closer to the table, “Have some tea, take a load off, and spend some time with the Okazaki’s tonight. How does that sound?” Junko smiles appreciatively, and nods towards Kei’s proposal. Sachiko comes around, and places a tray down on the table in front of them. The warm, herbal scent wafts into Junko’s nose almost immediately, and her stuffed sinuses clear at the mellow smell.

Sachiko awkwardly stands at the seatless side of the square table, and places her hands at her hips. Her eyes drag across her son’s and daughter’s gazes, contemplating what to do. Junko notices the hesitation, and immediately stands from her seat. “Mrs. Okazaki, please,” Junko insists, “Take this seat. I’ll happily stand.”

“No, no, sweetie, that’s perfectly fine. You relax and enjoy the tea,” Sachiko assures, placing her hands atop Junko’s shoulders, “I’ll just go grab… an extra chair from the closet.” Without another word, Sachiko walks briskly to a door by the kitchen, and places her hand on the knob. “Our dad’s dead,” Akira states bluntly in a low volume, with no remorse to be found in her voice, “But before that, they were divorced for five years. His chair’s been in there ever since he moved out.”

Junko’s eyes train on the older woman’s awkward motions by the closet. Her short blonde hair is clipped back by a few pins, but it still manages to sway with every movement she makes. Sachiko’s sunken face shows age and stress, but her blue eyes suggest a sort of liveliness and passion that Junko can not describe in words alone.

Sachiko hauls the wooden chair over to the empty spot as Junko situates herself back into her given chair. Sighing a breath of relief, Sachiko grins at the three individuals seated at the table alongside her. Keeping her gaze on Junko, Sachiko’s grin deepens just a fraction.

“So, Junko,” Sachiko starts up a conversation, “Tell us about yourself.” Junko’s cheeks redden a bit as the spotlight dawns upon her. Pulling her gaze to the ceiling above, she attempts to conjure up anything within the realm of public knowledge that these individuals are allowed to know about her.

“You can start with that getup,” Akira offers, pointing towards Junko’s choppy black and white contrasting mop atop her head. Throwing her eyes onto the girl, Junko smiles at the topic of choice. Subconsciously, she runs her hands through her locs. “I have albinism,” Junko informs happily, toying with a longer strand from the back of her head between her fingertips.

To her right, Sachiko begins pouring everyone cups of tea. “That white’s all natural?” Kei asks, accepting some tea from his mother. Junko nods in response, also handling a newfound cup of tea. “Then where’d all the black come from? And why’s it uneven?” Sachiko slaps her daughter’s arm to her right, in which Akira raises her hands up in defense.

Junko chuckles softly at the act. “No, it’s fine,” She assures, “At my elementary school, colored hair was not allowed, even in my case. My mother fought the administration so hard on my behalf, but got nothing out of it in the end.”

Junko takes a sip of the warm, earthy tea before continuing her story, “So, my mother went to the store and bought some black hair dye and scissors. When she came home, she said to do whatever I wanted, and to make sure the school regrets making me change my hair.” A smile found its way to Junko’s face as she recollects the lost memory in her mind.

“This happened,” Junko emphasizes by placing her hands on her hair, “And I kind of liked it. So, I just stuck with it, I guess. The school was shocked, but didn’t really do anything to me in response.” Sachiko chuckles as the story comes to a close, and a twinkle dances in her blue eyes.

“Your mother and I would get along very well, I’m imagining,” Sachiko says with a playful and mischievous smile on her face. Junko offers a sad, soft grin at the sentiment. “Well, she got a divorce from my father when I was seven, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since. She… uh… wasn’t appointed joint custody of my brother and I,” Junko admits shamefully, not able to meet any of the Okazaki’s eyes.

Junko’s mind flashes back to that day in the courtroom. Her mother on the left, her father on the right - both surrounded by lawyers and strangers in suits. The sound of the judge’s firm smack of the gavel ricocheted within her eardrums - just as it did the day she sat amongst the strangers, with a two year old Niko in her lap.

Niko’s hysteric and infantile sobs rang throughout the courtroom as their mother screamed at the top of her lungs, tossing papers all over the room and flipping over the table in front of her. Mamoru sat unfazed by the reckless behavior, despite all of the screams being directed at him. The policemen entered the room, and detained the woman in such a manic frenzy. Her shouts never ceased, nor did Niko’s blood curdling cries aimed straight at Junko’s young ears.

Noting the stiffness in her now rigid body, Kei decides to change the subject. Grabbing the displaced cards spread over the table, he begins shuffling the deck in his fingers. “You know how to play two-ten-jack, Junko? It’s a family favorite of ours,” Kei asks lightly, keeping his eyes on the thoughtful girl to his right.

Taking herself out of her daydream, Junko nods her head at Kei’s question. “Nice,” Kei inputs, smiling at her, “You’ll play the winner. Mom, it’s you versus me right now.” Sachiko smirks from behind her tea cup, and watches as her son deals out six cards for each of them. From across the table, Akira waits excitedly for the game to begin.

Junko watches the small family laugh amongst themselves, and perceives the warm, homey atmosphere that surrounds the three of them. Even with the singular light overhead, it’s as if the glow emitting from their familial love lights up the entire room. It blinds Junko, for it is a sensation she has not felt in quite some time.

For a moment, she sees her mother laughing with her father, and an infantile Niko shoving a rice ball into his face in their mother’s lap. There were no yells, no screams, no shouts, no violence - just happiness at the kitchen table.

Then, as Junko blinks, she’s brought back to the reality of the Okazaki household. Wherein that same love and happiness could be seen protruding off of them by the naked eye. It's obvious that these three individuals want nothing more out of this world than the family they were gifted with.

A sad smile envelops her face as Junko watches the family play their card game. Because, for a moment, Junko wished that this was her life. To be surrounded by a family that loves you unconditionally, and to be together in blood, not by legal requirement.

Kei’s eyes glance over to the mindful Junko, and their eyes meet. “You ready to lose, Junko?” He asks playfully, managing to secure a soft smile in response from Junko. “I’ve never lost a two-ten-jack game, Kei, and I don’t intend to start now.”

On the entire ride over to the Okazaki’s apartment, Junko found herself wondering why she even called Kei in the first place. It wasn’t because she felt bad about leaving him at campus, nor was it because she felt any sort of attraction towards him. If none of these reasons were the key to her phone call, then why? What made Junko search for that crumpled sheet of paper, and dial up that number?

Sitting at this table, genuinely laughing with the Okazaki’s, and having this foreign feeling bubbling within her chest is when she realized. She called Kei because he offered her something that none of her deputies - or even her own brother - could offer her: an escape to a sense of normalcy.

Nothing in Junko’s life has been definitively ‘normal’ since the day her mother walked out on them. Using gardening as a meditative activity to ease her mind - and to entrance herself into a manipulated sense of regularity - was cut short by her father’s demands. So, as she sits so comfortably in this wooden chair, and a light fizz of warmth erupts in her stomach, Junko finds herself sinking back into normalcy amongst the Okazaki’s.

However, this feeling is fleeting - which is something Junko is aware of. She couldn’t possibly call up Kei every time she feels stressed or anxious about the life she lives, and ask to play a game of two-ten-jack over some herbal tea with Sachiko and Akira. Junko needs to find solace in her own life, instead of searching for it elsewhere in things she’s unable to control.

That’s when the idea first popped into her head - or, rather, the image of her mother popped into her head. If only she was still around, Mamoru, Junko, Niko, and her mother could all be one happy family again. They could all laugh together during a fun board game, and share stories of their days over a delicious home cooked dinner.

About forty-five minutes later, Junko is fast asleep on the Okazaki’s couch in the living room. Her body is comfortably sprawled across the couch’s surface, and her hair is dispelled across her face. Kei finishes unfolding a light blanket, and drapes it across her body. Placing his hands at his hips, Kei observes Junko as she soundly sleeps on his couch.

After a few moments, Kei hesitantly pulls out his phone. Dialing up a number, he excuses himself from the living room, and marches down a hallway towards the bedrooms. “Hello? Yeah, it’s me. Listen…” His voice fades away as a door shuts behind him.

From the kitchen, Sachiko and Akira stare at the sleeping Junko together - their eyes unmoving from the unconscious girl. There was an unreadable emotion dancing within the two blondes’ eyes, something suppressed and harbored deep within their hearts that surfaces as they watch Junko sleep peacefully.

The last thought Junko had before she fell asleep, and the first thing she will think about when she wakes up, is Chie Fukumoto - and Junko’s mission to visit her, after fifteen long years.