Caution to the Wind

Ichiro was puzzled by his father's sudden call to his office.

He had been studying, or at least trying to, in his room when his father's voice echoed from the other side of the house. In his room, he had been constantly checking his phone, hoping for an update from Izumi that never came, with a text book opened up in front of him. It was very late at night, and he couldn't believe his father was still awake.

As he descended the stairs towards his father's office, he passed his mother, who was sitting on the couch with a concerned look, her arms crossed. She seemed to want to say something but opted for an encouraging smile as he walked past her. Her expression only added to Ichiro's worry, leaving him wondering about the reason for this unexpected summons.

When he reached the end of the hallway, he cautiously slid open the door to his father's office. Inside, his father was seated on his knees in a meditative pose, facing away from the door. He was wearing his relaxed jinbei again. Ichiro entered quietly, gently shutting the door behind him.

Uncertain about what to do next, he moved to the center of the room and knelt down on the mat set a short distance behind his father's back. Though he kept his back straight, his knuckles were white from gripping his knees tightly.

As he waited for his father to acknowledge him or explain the reason for summoning him, he glanced around the large office. Once again, he saw the room adorned with the numerous awards, trophies, and distinctions he had earned over his lifetime. It was an exhibition of his many great accomplishments he worked very hard to achieve.

The sight of these glistening golden triumphs used to always fill Ichiro with pride and a desire to compete with his father. However, at this moment, the sight of the sheer number of awards weighed on him, crushing his fast-beating heart.

Suddenly, his father shifted on his mat, swiftly turning to face his son while still in a meditative state. He let out a long, relaxing sigh and slowly opened his eyes, making eye contact with Ichiro.

“Sorry about that,” his father said, breaking the silence with his booming voice, as he bowed. Despite the bow, he remained significantly bigger and taller than his son. “I needed to have a relaxing moment meditating after all that has happened recently.”

“I understand,” Ichiro replied cordially.

His father straightened up after the bow, crossing his arms over his chest, and continued, “So, to start on why I called you in here, tell me about your friend Nakagawa.”

This caught Ichiro completely off guard. He didn't expect his father to want to discuss her, especially after their meeting earlier that day had gone awry. He had half expected his father to avoid the topic altogether. But now he had to answer his father about her, even though the question was quite vague.

“She's a girl in my school,” he answered, trying to find the right words, “I actually met her for the first time at physical therapy.”

His father nodded, still focused on his son's reactions, and asked, “What happened when you met her?”

Nervousness grew inside Ichiro, making the conversation increasingly awkward. Nevertheless, he kept his composure and answered as directly as possible, "We talked a bit outside the hospital while waiting for the rain to clear up. I found her a bit… strange?”

“Strange, huh? I see,” his father nodded again, “And then she started going to your school?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“What other things can you tell me about her?”

Ichrio wasn’t sure how to answer this, and struggled to come up with a better answer and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "She wants to be an author. She hasn’t written much, so I don’t know what to say about that.”

A brow slowly rose on his father’s face, but he maintained a stoic expression. “Have you read anything she has written?”

Ichiro felt his blood run cold. He kept his cool as best as he could as sweat began to pour down the back of his neck. Out of all the things he could be discussing right now with his father, Izumi’s writing was one of the lowest things on that list. Even sex was ranking higher at that moment. Thinking fast, he found words he hoped would divert attention. “She hasn’t written much, not much for me to read.”

His father closed his eyes and nodded. Thankfully, it seemed to be enough. “So, she has shared her aspirations with you?”

Ichiro gulped nervously and quickly replied, “Yes, she has, I guess.” He winced in frustration, realizing he let the “guess” slip out. “Although I never really thought much about it.” He desperately tried to recover in the end.

His father remained silent on his knees, making Ichiro feel like an eternity had passed. Nervous sweats continued to build on the back of his neck. No matter what, he just wanted this conversation to end as quickly as possible. The best he could do was just keep answering questions and hope they were enough to please his father. But then the large man before him nodded once more.

“I see. Do you hang out often, then?”

His father's question made Ichiro anxious, and he struggled to prevent his eyes from widening. He hadn't even realized it himself, but in the last couple of weeks, whenever he went to take Izumi to one of her locations on her list, he had failed to tell his parents that’s what he was doing. It wasn’t as if he was purposefully lying to them, but rather they never asked him where he was going, having complete faith in him to stay out of trouble without their intervention. Realizing this in front of his father made him blurt out something he later regretted.

“Not really,” he responded, but immediately cursed himself internally for lying. He knew his father was sharper than that, and no matter how much they stared at each other, testing each other's poker faces, his father would eventually see through the lie. Thinking quickly, he corrected himself, “A couple of times, yes, but nothing all that special. She tagged along when we went to Wonder World.” To him that was the truth and absolutely not a lie.

Several seconds passed slowly as he awaited his father's reaction to his explanation. Surprisingly, his father only nodded. “She seems like a pretty good friend of yours.”

“I will be sure to let her know you feel that way,” Ichiro shifted his gaze away from his father to the corner of the room. He could no longer handle this line of questioning. His cheeks flushed with warmth, and his brain felt fried.

“But I am still concerned.” His father crossed his arms across his chest as he continued. “Are you more than friends with her?”

His father's probing question nearly made Ichiro choke. “No, sir,” he managed to answer without gagging. Another long pause followed, filled with tense silence.

“Are you sure?”

It took Ichiro a few moments to process his father's words, but he mustered his resolve to answer firmly, “Yes, sir.”

Though he had broken eye contact with his father, he could feel his father's penetrating gaze studying his every twitch and movement as he tried to avoid being seen at that moment. “Alright,” his father sighed, shaking his head. He then continued, “I trust you. But I would strongly suggest something.” Ichiro's head snapped up, finding his father staring at him with the most intense gaze he had ever seen. The air between them became heavy with tension, pressing down on the son's tightened back as he anxiously waited for his father's next words. “It wouldn't be best for you to become entangled with a girl like her.”

“What does that mean? ‘Like her’?”

In an instant, all of Ichiro's insecurities vanished. He thought he knew his father well enough to understand the context of what his father was implying.

This wasn't a birds and bees type conversation, nor was it about Izumi's character. But if that was the case, he couldn't comprehend what could make his father say such a thing. He lost his place in their hierarchy and couldn't help questioning his father back.

“It's just a suggestion,” his father said, offering a small smile as he extended a hand from where it was crossed over his chest. “You need to focus more on your sports regardless. Koshien is just around the corner.”

Something snapped in Ichiro's mind upon hearing those words, and his frustration surged uncontrollably, reflected in his words, “I still don’t know what you mean. I don't understand what she has to do with my games.”

His father blinked in confusion, seemingly not on the same page as Ichiro. Then he narrowed his eyes again, his voice stern as he reiterated, "Just stay focused on your games, that's all I am asking. And if you want a girlfriend, whatever happened to Ueno? I am still friends with her father. I am sure we could work out something for marriage arrangements later.” His father chuckled to himself when he finished that sentence.

“I don't see her that way. She is just a friend,” Ichiro replied, his frustration evident. He wanted to punch his fist into the ground as he said those words. What was everyone’s obsession with her being with him? Why couldn't they understand that he didn't have romantic feelings for her?

“Son, take this advice from your father,” his father's voice became forceful, shaking the room with its intensity. But it wasn't to scare Ichiro; it was meant to make a point. “Women like Ueno will be much better for you than Nakagawa could ever be. This is for your future. Just trust me on this.”

Ichiro gritted his teeth, boiling with rage. He couldn't stand idly by and let his father dictate his future. He was the one who pursued his dreams, not his father. And above all, he couldn't allow his father to speak poorly of Izumi. Not in front of him like that.

“Do you understand?” his father asked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

At that moment, Ichiro wanted to stand up and tell his father off. He wanted to show him that he could choose to be with whomever he wanted to be with. There was no stopping him. So he opened his lips to speak.

“I understand.”

That was all he said. His father let out a delighted sigh, pleased that his son seemed to finally grasp his point, and chuckled softly under his breath as he nodded. “Just remember what I always tell you.”

“…”

A brow raised on his father's forehead, but then it narrowed again as he repeated himself, “You do remember, don't you?”

Softly, with downcast eyes, Ichiro answered, “Keep my goals in focus and never waver from them.”

“Very good. You are dismissed.”