I climb the five flights of rusty stairs to the small apartment I share with my mom. I let myself in and announce my presence, hearing her respond from what sounds like the kitchen.
Shoes off. Jacket off. Slippers on.
My prediction proves correct: Mom is in the kitchen, her hair pulled back and her sleeves rolled up. She’s pulled her stool in front of the stove, and something truly delicious-smelling bubbles there. “You’re back early,” she says. “No Hina-chan tonight?”
“Busy. Need any help?”
She shoots me a look and ignores my question. “Are you here for dinner, then?”
“Work.”
“Mm.” She doesn’t look offended. Just nods. “I can save you some curry.”
I slip into my room, stow my bag, and get changed quickly. My room is small enough that even a few haphazard clothes make the floor look cluttered, but that’s a problem for later when I’m unrolling my futon.
Back out. I can feel Mom’s eyes on me as I cross back to the entryway, and even without the thunk, thunk, thunk of her cane I would already know what’s coming.
“Big game this weekend.”
Yyyep. There it is. “...Yeah. They made an announcement in school.”
She nods. “Are you working?”
“Maybe.”
She hums, thoughtful. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy.”
I snort. “Yeah, well, keeps me out of prison.”
She sighs. “The game, Toji. Were you planning to come?”
“Is that person going to be there?”
She doesn’t pretend not to know who I mean.
“I thought that might be it,” she says.
I shift my weight. “So?”
“So,” she says, calm as ever, “running into people is part of living in a small city. And,” she cuts in before I can respond, “yes, it’s Fujimura-kun’s first game as shortstop.”
I scoff for the second time in one day. “Yeah, what’s up with that anyway? Isn’t it a little late in the season to—”
“Toji.” It’s clear from her tone of voice this wasn’t her first time saying it. “Just think about it, okay?”
“...Fine.”
“Thank you.”
Well.
At least there’s that “perfect weather” to look forward to.