June 27th, 2010. Sunday. 10:32 AM. I’m three years old. Kai-chan is two.
My mom took us to Grandpa’s house in Tokorozawa. Since it’s far from the station, we took Mom’s car. There was a break in the rainy season. Under the gray sky, we parked next to Grandpa’s car in the yard, which also doubles as a field.
“Grandpaaa!”
I jumped into Grandpa’s arms.
“Oh, oh, Nagisa-chan, you’ve grown so much! Kairi-chan, too, you’ve gotten so big!”
I just saw him two months ago, though? “You’ve grown so much” is Grandpa’s usual phrase. Even though he’s over sixty-five, he’s still big and strong, and cool. I love him after Mom and then Kai-chan.
“We’re back, Dad.”
Mom greeted him briefly. For some reason, Grandpa hugged his curt daughter and kissed her on the cheek.
“Stop it… the kids are watching.”
“You finally came. I’ve been waiting two months.”
Mom and Grandpa get along well. I often see them kissing or holding hands. I think being close is a good thing—my teacher at kindergarten taught me that. So, when I saw that, I mimicked it and kissed Kai-chan.
“Stop that!”
Huh? Mom pulled me away from Kai-chan.
“You shouldn’t do that with your sibling!”
…Ah, I see. It’s “jealousy,” isn’t it? Mom is so cute.
“Look, I’ve cut up some melon!”
Grandma peeked out from the living room.
“Coming!”
Yay, melon! I ran towards the green jewels with my little brother.
“I’m going to rest in the car.”
Now that I think about it, whenever we come to Grandpa’s house, Mom always rests in the car… Isn’t that boring?
“I’m going to take a bath.”
Grandpa called out to Grandma as we ran past them.
…
“Is it tasty?”
“Mmm! Tasty!”
Ara, Kai-chan. Your clothes are all sticky. You’ve gotten stains all over your yellow shirt with the train on it. Your hands are all sticky, too.
“Let’s go wash your hands!”
I took my little brother’s sticky hand and led him to the washroom.
…
“Okay, show me your hands? Onee-chan will wash them for you!”
I washed Kai-chan’s hands with foamy hand soap. There, all clean and shiny.
I could hear the sound of splashing water from the bath next door, where Grandpa must be soaking in the tub.
“I want to eat more melon!”
My little brother dashed off. I was about to follow him when I heard something that caught my attention.
“…”
Huh? That voice… Mom? Why? Isn't she in the car?
…Why is she crying?
I slowly slid open the bathroom door.