Side story Aki Matsuri: Takumi Takahara

Note from the author. This chapter is the direct continuation of  the side story of "Takumi Takahara in the city of Nagoya."

At dinner time, Takumi finally greeted his mother and his little brother, Souta, who was thrilled to see his older brother again.

"I’ve grown eight centimeters since the last time we saw each other!" his brother remarked while serving himself food. "And I already know how to write new words. Father took me to see the factory a week ago—it’s giant!"

Takumi finally allowed himself to relax. He was home, with his family, and he was surprised to see Souta so healthy. It wasn't that the boy had delicate health, but Takumi hadn't seen him since the previous summer. He was satisfied to see him growing well, speaking freely about whatever he wished, and that, at least for that evening, he wasn't being reprimanded.

The next day, Takumi and his father began perfecting the final details of the factory. He started learning who the suppliers would be and when the machinery necessary to run the factory would arrive.

"If all goes well, the factory will open by September. With the help of Mayor Kurogane, we can hold a celebration."

"In the meantime, what will we do during this season?" Takumi asked as he observed the height of the building, evaluating the ventilation, the space, and how to best utilize the area.

"As you know, we also opened a textile shop here in Shimizu," his father remarked. "I’ve done business with the Kinomoto family, and they’ve helped me open a shop where I am a partner. For now, to keep you making good use of your time, you will be assisting with the sale of fabrics."

Takumi nodded in silence. Upon returning home, he found his mother smiling in an unusual way. When he asked what was happening, she mentioned she had gone to the market and found a stall selling glass figurines. She showed him a pair of fowers, both roses

"Real flowers last too short," commented his mother, leaving the figures on the table. "You know your father is allergic to them, and that makes the garden look sad. But if I can have these pretty flowers for myself, it is more than enough."

"I can bring you flowers from time to time," Takumi told his mother, who smiled at the proposal. "Real flowers can fill your room with their perfume."

"Hydrangeas!," his mother said without hesitation. "You know they are my favorite."

Takumi accepted the request and promised that whenever he could, he would bring those flowers to her, with the only condition being that she continue smiling and being happy.

In this way, Takumi began his life in Shimizu while continuing to learn, under his father's guidance, what was necessary to be the leader of the family. During part of the mornings, he dedicated himself to attending to the families who came looking for fabrics for all types of kimonos.

By the end of June, a new customer arrived at the shop. He wore a military uniform and was looking for a light-colored kimono for the summer.

"It will be for my fiancée," the soldier remarked. He spoke with a deep, confident voice and didn't seem to feel the heat despite his uniform. "Her birthday is in a week, and she needs a summer kimono."

Takumi showed him some light-colored fabrics, with greens and blues catching the most attention. The soldier pointed to one that struck him: a sky blue one with floral embroidery.

"What would be the price for this one?" the soldier asked. Takumi gave him the price, and the purchase was made.

The impression he had of that soldier was surprising to him. He didn't stutter, he knew what he wanted, and he listened. Usually, customers were not so polite. His boss came out of the warehouse; he had observed the interaction and congratulated him.

"Usually, people are afraid of the military," his boss remarked. "But you, on the other hand, showed no weakness before him."

"I must say he is imposing," Takumi commented honestly. "And it is clear he appreciates his fiancée."

"Yes..." his boss said with a certain air of disdain. "At least the Lieutenant’s fiancée is educated and an exemplary woman."

"What do you mean?" Takumi asked with curiosity.

"Miss Himawari's sister is... how should I put it?" The boss looked nervous, unsure of how to describe the person he had in mind. "She is rebellious, ungrateful; she prefers to get her hands dirty with soil instead of worrying about getting engaged. She is twenty-three years old and still single."

Takumi listened intently. It was impossible for him to accept that a nobleman’s daughter was behaving like a peasant. His boss continued telling his version of the story. He spoke about how Makoto, his son, had been involved with her a year ago.

"It surprises me that Sachie and Himawari are sisters," his boss concluded. "Sachie is the rotten fruit of the Apricot family. I advise you to avoid associating with that family, Takahara-san. If it is necessary, do so with caution."

That night, Takumi remembered Renko: how she hid in a disguise just to be able to study. He remembered how she loved attending classes and had freedom; they didn't judge her—instead, they admired her, and she knew it. This "Sachie" didn't hide, which surely earned her more judgment like the kind his boss had expressed.

For the first time, he felt curious about Sachie. He wanted to know her better. He wanted to know why his boss spoke poorly of her and if there was another reason.

On one of his days off, he managed to find the Apricot Apothecary. It was a small place that looked old, but it was clear it was one of the most important spots in the area.

He didn't enter. He knew he didn't have a credible excuse, so he left. It was the first time he had gotten lost in Shimizu. During his walk to find his way home, he found, for the first time, a rather elegant garden: it was decorated with herbs he couldn't identify. Furthermore, a certain care was evident in the flowers, which included gardenias, sunflowers, and, above all, hydrangeas.

After several minutes, he managed to reach home and rested. He was overwhelmed by the heat and the high temperatures. He thought again of that soldier who had been to the shop the other day. He admired how, even with the heat, with his clean and polished uniform, he didn't sweat and showed no sign of fatigue.

The summer heat in Shimizu was oppressive. The wind carried humidity and the scent of salt throughout the city, making the heat almost unbearable. Being shut inside your house made you want to escape—or at least, to simply not be there.

That summer, Takumi  began accompanying his father to the factory to supervise the final details before the grand opening. The heat inside that brick building was also intolerable.

The afternoon was beginning too cool. A few clouds were rolling in from the port, warning that a typhoon would soon arrive. Father and son managed to reach home before the wind began to blow harder. When the first drops of rain started to fall, Takumi listened as his father began to complain.

Once again, perfect garden of Keiichi would have to be restored. Leaves and branches began to tear away from the trees while his pond rippled violently in the wind.

Two days after the typhoon, Takumi decided to walk through Shimizu to get to know the town better and learn to navigate without getting lost—but he failed. While walking and trying to find his way home, he happened upon that same garden he had seen the time he went to visit the Apricot Apothecary for first time.

There, he saw a woman trying to fix the garden. Relieved to see that the flowers and herbs were alright after the typhoon, he decided to approach. Thanks to the summer rains, the plants looked even more vibrant. He decided to ask the woman for some flowers for his mother.

"Could you help me?" Takumi asked the woman, who turned toward him looking somewhat startled. "I am looking for some flowers for my mother, and your hydrangeas are ideal."

"You wish to give my flowers as a gift?" the woman asked, surprised. Takumi nodded silently.

"Would you do me the favor of making an arrangement with the hydrangeas?" he insisted. The woman sighed and began to create the arrangement. When she finished, she tried to hand them to Takumi.  "Could you accompany me? The truth is, I’m lost."

Takumi saw that she was losing her patience. It seemed she wasn't used to this kind of polite treatment from a stranger. However, without saying a word, she helped him find his way.

"May I know your name?" the woman asked as they began to walk. Takumi laughed nervously, realizing his mistake.

"My apologies," he said sheepishly, offering a bow. "I am Takahara Takumi."

Takumi noted her surprise. It was a reaction he hadn't expected, as he thought he was well-known by most of the inhabitants—at least those of his own social standing.

"Your turn, what's your name?" Takumi asked, seeing that the woman had fallen silent.

"Apricot Sachie," she said curtly as they continued walking.

That day, Takumi's curiosity began to drive him closer to this woman. Rumors can be cruel, and people always have something bad to say about those who are different.

Sachie was stubborn and distrustful, but skilled at treating wounds. Although his brother’s injury had been quite superficial, when he heard the doctor’s comments, he knew this woman was someone he wished to befriend. It was far more interesting to get close to her—someone who wasn't afraid to speak her mind or be different—than to any other woman.

In the days leading up to the Autumn Festival, Takumi faced several problems at the factory. Some machines had failed, resulting in injuries to several employees. Production dropped that week, and clients were growing impatient for their materials.

The day of the festival finally arrived, but the problems hadn't ended. That day, the Kinomoto family had decided to hold a meeting to expand the Takahara textile business. Keiichi, confident that his son could handle it, left him in charge of the negotiations, which dragged on for several hours. They had been put in contact with a family of merchants who would soon arrive in Shimizu.

"The Shibasaki family trades with China and India; their products include materials like silk," said the leader of the family, a burly man in his 60s wearing glasses. "Your family could even benefit from this by forming an alliance."

"In what way would I benefit?" Takumi asked curiously, as they were already bringing in fabrics from abroad.

"You can imitate certain designs; no one will notice the difference," they replied. "Materials coming primarily from China are of excellent quality. We can trade some threads with them."

"Furthermore, I've been told the family has a twenty-year-old daughter. I believe her name is Haru."

In another time, he would have accepted his father presenting her as his future fiancée. But with Sachie in his life, the situation had changed. He had almost forgotten—the festival. He had promised to accompany her.

Finally, at 8:00 PM, the meeting ended. He appeared impatient, and it showed. He changed into a more informal outfit, tidied his hair, and left the house for the festival.

It was the first night Takumi truly relaxed and felt free. Since he had started helping Sachie, he was always worried about schedules and the days he had to sneak away without being seen.

But that night, he was able to have fun. Near ten o’clock, he returned home with a sense of freedom he had never felt before. For the first time, he felt that his entire life was being planned out and that he was merely a passenger on a journey where he was the only one who didn't know the destination.

He compared his life to Sachie’s: she was fighting for what she desired and rejecting what was imposed upon her. Why was he thinking about Sachie so much? It made no sense. Furthermore, every time he thought of her, he felt something strange in his chest, as if he were ill.

The following day, he went to the post office. His father had tasked him with going because he was expecting letters from relatives living in Osaka. He was surprised to see there was a letter for him—a letter with a drawing of a lotus flower.

There was no return address, but from the stamp, he could deduce it had come from San Francisco. Upon arriving home and leaving his father's letters in his library, he went to his room to read it.

“To the heir of the factory:
Good day Takahara Takumi. It has been some time since I wrote a letter to you. I hope you are very well. During this time, my life has been exciting, difficult, and fun. I have learned many things in these months. And this past April, I met someone special. I am very excited because we have grown very close—and not just as friends. 
His name is Julio Castillejos, he is from Spain; he is two years older than I am, and what I like is that I can speak with him with a freedom I never had in Japan while I was a woman. He doesn't care about my past; he only wants to start a family with me.
He loves me and always tells me so, at least once a day. If he can’t, he leaves me notes. I like how he makes me feel. 
—Renko Tanaka, soon to be Renko Castillejos”
P.S. I hope you have already found someone to love, someone you have chosen by yourself.