The Head of the Ichinose Family

The school day was over. Megumi and her older brother, Momochi, went home together. Throughout the train ride, Megumi sat stiffly in her chair, listening to music through her earphones to somehow divert herself from her worries. She was afraid of confronting her parents about her new crush, Gorō Shimura, and telling them how she recklessly challenged three delinquent boys from her class, how Gorō protected her and beat Shin up, and how it attracted a curious crowd. Momochi smiled at her, trying to lull her fears.

“We’ll get through it together,” he said, standing in the train by her side.

Megumi returned a smile, grateful for his support. She clenched her fists on her knees and cast her eyes down again.

I hope Dad’s not home. She thought. He’ll be the most furious! I can get Mom to understand me, even if she disapproves… but not Dad.

To her luck, her hope was fulfilled. When she and Momochi arrived home, in their cosy apartment on the seventh floor, they found their father was still gone. They announced themselves, and heard their mother’s soft but loud voice responding to them from her husband’s and her common bedroom:

“Welcome back!”

Megumi and Momochi figured that their mother was working on her computer, as usual. As a professor at a university, Nana Ichinose always had essays to grade or other administrative tasks to handle.

But there was someone else to look after the kids when both of the Ichinose parents were busy. Now, too, his deep, playful voice resonated from the kitchen.

“Welcome home!” he cried to the youngsters. “Come to the dining room when you’re ready! We’ve got sausages and pasta, my recipe.”

Megumi and Momochi brightened up, their mouths watering. They inhaled the flavourful, heated aroma of the fried sausages coming from the kitchen. They hastily changed their shoes, washed their hands, and hurried to their separate bedrooms to don their house clothes. Their maternal uncle, Yanagi Shimono, was in the kitchen, and when that was the case, they always had a feast. He knew recipes from all over the world, and sometimes tweaked them himself. His refined taste and impeccable talent made him the kids’ favourite cook in the family.

Megumi and Momochi changed into their house jumpers, sports trousers, and slippers, and emerged from their bedrooms. They exchanged delighted smiles, eager to taste their uncle’s food, and went to the dining room, where he was already setting the table.

Yanagi Shimono was a 45-year-old man, but looked much younger than his age. He was tall, vigorous, and well-built. It was evident that he had spent most of his life practising martial arts, notably karate, and still followed its code, exercising daily and disciplining his mind. He was rather handsome, too. His long, wavy, jet-black hair fell down his shoulders, and two long curls framed his face from both sides. His vivid hazel eyes twinkled with a sly, playful flame.

But what Megumi loved most about her uncle was his elegant, streetsmart style. The sleeves of his black woollen jumper were folded up now, revealing the coiling tail of a golden-and-black cobra tattoo on his left arm – the image that Megumi had adored since her childhood. However, her absolute favourite was his rings – a stainless steel ring with a wolf head and another one with a snake eating its tail on the left hand, and one with a flying eagle on the pinky of the right hand. Megumi loved jewellery and accessories, so she was a big fan of her uncle’s rings.

“Uncle!” she cried joyously, hugging the man like she was still a child. She looked at the neatly placed empty plates on the table. “How can we help?”

“Well, one of you could bring the cutlery, and the other could call your mom.” Yanagi grinned and embraced her in response.

“I’ll call Mom,” Momochi said and went to the parents’ bedroom. He did it to save Megumi the trouble of facing their mother alone, for he saw the discomfort in her eyes. She still seemed nervous about informing her mother of her new, dangerous crush.

Yanagi noticed the kids exchanging meaningful glances before Momochi volunteered to call their mother and left. Right after, Megumi hurried to the cupboard to bring the cutlery and helped him set the table.

“Anything new happened in school?” Yanagi asked as a matter of fact, his eyes on the table as he placed napkins near the plates. But his voice had lost its careless streak.

Megumi jolted. Moments like these always gave her goosebumps. Her uncle could somehow glean enough information from the minutest expressions he observed. Now, too, he had asked her about school right after she and Momochi had silently agreed, through their looks alone, that it was better for Momochi to bring their mother.

“One can’t hide anything from you…” She sighed, smiling bitterly. “Yeah, something did happen. N-Nothing bad!” She shook her hands as her uncle’s hawk eyes landed on her, as though ready to beat up any of her wrongdoers. “It was just… There’s a new transfer student in our class, and we had a connection.” Her cheeks flushed as she clutched her arm, a bit embarrassed to be confessing to her family. “I… I want to tell Mom about it, too.”

“Oh?” Yanagi raised his eyebrows, understanding the hints. His lips formed a playful smile again. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“What are you two chatting about?” The gentle, amiable voice of Megumi’s mother interrupted them.

Momochi had returned with Nana Ichinose. She was a 49-year-old woman with delicate features, her wavy pink hair cut in a lovely bob, and her blue eyes twinkling behind her rectangular glasses, making her similar to her daughter. She wore a cosy white turtle-neck sweater, blue jeans, and comfortable pink slippers, giving her a youthful look. Her gold dot earrings with small white diamonds shimmered in the light of the lustre. Her loving smile softened her stern demeanour, developed through her many years of teaching and parenting. To both Megumi and Momochi, she remained the main authority figure because of her mix of a gentle, approachable personality and an iron-fist parenting style when times required it. Neither of them doubted that their mother was the head of this family.

“Uh… m-my crush at school,” Megumi admitted, turning redder. She clasped her hands, trying to contain her shivers. “He… He’s a new transfer student.”

“Oh? That’s interesting!” Nana’s smile deepened. She sat down at the table along with the rest of them, and they began enjoying the dinner – Yanagi’s delicious recipe of frying sausages and pasta in green sauce. “So, what is his name? What is he like? Do you have any pictures of him?”

“Yes. We exchanged contacts on social media,” Megumi replied, excited about her mother’s curiosity and trying her hardest to postpone the inevitable doom when she’d have to reveal her crush’s true colours. She looked up Gorō’s account on Binstagram, where she had added him after the Japanese lesson, and handed the phone to Nana. “His name is Gorō Shimura. He’s 17, like Momo.” She glanced at her brother beside her. “He… He’s a delinquent, but he was very polite. And he’s better than me at Math!” She pursed her lips, still upset about that fact. “He even knew calculus! And he stood up for me twice against that idiot, Kawamura, and his cronies. So, I got interested in him.”

“You exchanged Binstagram accounts with him?” Momochi looked at her with a raised eyebrow. I thought she would bring their interactions to a minimum after I warned her!

“Well, he wanted to read my essay on Akutagawa and took it home.” Megumi shrugged. She turned to Yanagi and Nana and announced with pride: “I got 100%, and Shinagawa Sensei praised me before the whole class!” Then, she turned back to Momochi, “I thought it wise to exchange accounts with Shimura, just in case.”

“Yeah, sure…” Momochi rolled his eyes. “So, will you tell Mom the whole thing about him?”

“Hey, let me have a look at the boy too!” Yanagi stretched his hand out to Nana, his older sister, with a playful smile.

“Shimura, huh?” Nana screwed her eyes. Why does that name sound familiar? She wondered. I can’t put my finger on it… But it’s unnerving. She scrolled through the phone and studied the young man’s pictures from a year ago, with no recent ones displayed. Then, she handed the phone to the eager Yanagi and turned to the kids: “So, what’s this ‘whole thing about him’ you want to tell me?”

Megumi stiffened. She gulped and clenched her fists on her knees, casting her eyes down. She wondered how to frame it best so her mother wouldn’t chastise her outright. Then, she sighed in defeat – how on earth could she defend an ex-convict? So, she chose to be direct and braced herself for the backlash.

“Well, he… Momo told me he got transferred to our school so late because he’s kind of… fresh out of juvie, for s-stabbing people.” She felt a lump in her throat, already sensing the dangerous aura from her mother. “It… It was a gang scuffle, as Momo’s friend, Miyamoto Senpai, told us. He… He was trying to protect his friends, or something.” She gulped, knowing this reasoning didn’t help her much. “I… I found it out too late! So…”

“And you still exchanged your Binstagram accounts with him?” The gentleness in her mother’s tone vanished, replaced by a barely contained rage. “Megumi, are you out of your mind?!”

Megumi trembled, a reflex from her childhood when her mother would get angry at her and Momochi for misbehaving. She looked up at Nana, only to see her glare of disappointment, disapproval, and disbelief all in one. She couldn’t help it anymore. The lump in her throat choked her, and tears gushed from her eyes.

Even before she’d confront her father, her mother had gone wrathful.