Gimai Seikatsu - Days With My Step Sister

Chapter 102: April 20th (Tuesday) – Ayase Saki

The scratchy sound reverberated deep in my eardrums as if I was listening to an old vinyl record mixed with a bit of background noise.

The music streaming through my headphones—Lofi Hip Hop—helped me concentrate on the words in front of me, and pushed away my distracting thoughts.

I was working on past entrance exam questions from Tsukinomiya Women's University.

"Choose the appropriate word that fits... huh?"

Want and desire... it's one of these, right?

Both roughly mean to desire in English, but I remember that desire is used when one wants something more strongly. Want is more colloquial and casual, like when you don't have enough of what you need. Desire is used when one wants something more strongly, and it can also have a sexual connotation. Come to think of it, there was a song with that exact title in old Japanese pop—never mind.

I read the surrounding text and chose a word that seemed to fit.

I checked the time on my phone—7:33 pm. Usually, I'd be cooking dinner right now. But tonight, Taichi-san, my Stepdad, is in charge of cooking, so I could concentrate on studying.

I'd told him that if my Mom wasn't around I'd do the cooking. I'd always had to do it when it was just the two of us, anyway. Honestly, it was a bit embarrassing to shirk my responsibility just because I'm under the banner of an "exam taker."

And today he even ditched work early just to cook dinner, which made me feel guilty. I couldn't help feeling relieved but also frustrated that I couldn't balance both responsibilities.

By the way, this is unrelated, but "Nishiki no Mihata"[1] refers to a flag made of beautifully colored silk fabric used since the Kamakura period as a symbol of government forces. In other words, it's a way of saying that one is holding up a just cause. Well, I don't think we use words like that in everyday life. I wouldn't have remembered it if I hadn't come across it while studying history. Asamura-kun sometimes casually slips proverbs and idioms into everyday speech.

[1: A Nishiki No Mihata (The Royal Silk Flag) is a flag with a golden circle, which means Amaterasu, the greatest god of Japanese mythology, on a red background. This flag, traditionally used as a symbol of the imperial government, is also a prototype of the current national flag of Japan.]

He's a bit of a trivia maniac…

"Oops, I shouldn't be thinking about that. Let's continue…"

I drove away the distracting thoughts with my Lofi Hip Hop again. Then, I realized my mouth was dry. I brought my cup to my mouth and tilted it to moisten my parched throat with tea, but nothing came out. I'd drained it without noticing.

And finally, my concentration broke. Time to take a short breather.

I got up from my chair and stretched my arms up toward the ceiling. After doing some light exercises, I sat back down on the chair. I stared absentmindedly at the red book filled with past exam questions. I'm considering attending Tsukinomiya Women's University after I graduate.

Suddenly, I recalled something Yomiuri-san said about job hunting yesterday. I grabbed my phone and looked up career paths for Tsukinomiya Women's University graduates.

『Tsukinomiya Women's University: post-graduate career paths.』

I threw some relevant keywords into the search bar and found the university's official website. Going off the information about the career paths of alumni, about 20 percent go on to graduate school, 20 percent go into teaching, and the rest work in public service or private companies... that seemed to be the general trend. While there may be some slight variation depending on the specific undergraduate departments, the overall proportions remain relatively the same.

"So only 10 to 20 percent go on to a post-grad program…"

From my research, the average for women is about 5-6 percent, so the percentage is higher compared to other universities.

I wonder if that means there are a lot of academically inclined students that go there. The face of Professor Kudou, whom I met at the open campus, crossed my mind.

"I can't imagine that person working at a company."

No, now's not the time to think about Professor Kudou.

Saying that, what kind of company would be willing to hire me?

My future job, huh?

Honestly, I still don't have a clear idea of my career path after graduating from university. Since I'm trying to move out and become independent, I figure I'll need to work for some company or other.

But what kind of place would be good for me? Public service? Or a private company?

What does "private company" even mean? The word "private" isn't enough to go off of. I wanted something more specific, not just a broad classification.

When I looked into it further, I found a site listing the names of the companies where graduates found employment.

Hmm, I see. Hospitality companies, IT companies, publishing firms, advertising agencies, foreign management consulting firms, banks, securities firms... The list of well-known companies hiring graduates went on and on. Although it was probably just for marketing, being a prestigious national university and all, it seemed a lot of people had landed jobs with high-paying companies.

Well, I didn't know if they chose their job for money or not, but that was my motivation.

So, what about people who completed post-grad? For that, I pulled up articles with interviews of people who went on to become professionals right after graduation. There were people who, like Professor Kudou, stayed at the university and pursued an academic career, those who became clinical psychologists, those who became medical engineers, and so on. The multitude of paths to take in life made my head spin.

Wow, how did everyone find a job that suits them so well?

"Oh, there are people like this too."

I found an article about someone labeled a "designer."

A photo included in the article showed a woman with a bob haircut, the inner part dyed a bright color. She wore a mustard-colored jacket over a black sweater, a thin silver necklace, and mismatched earrings. I thought she looked really cool.

I wonder where they sell clothes like that.

...Let's put aside her fashion for the moment.

When I read on, I found that her major was psychology. From psychology to a designer? It seemed completely unrelated.

I was under the impression that it's normal for designers to come from art schools, so I found it surprising. To begin with, she'd apparently been interested in the relationship between stress and colors in everyday life. From there, she began researching designs that could improve people's mental health and studied the psychological effects clothing had on people.

It's like when you wear your favorite clothes and you feel energized, I guess?

And the article said with her pre-existing interest in fashion she started designing her own clothes. It took courage to venture into a field different from your major. I wonder if I could do that myself.

Personally, I used fashion as a form of self-expression and for my own self-confidence every day.

When I walked around the city I always peeked into the windows of designer stores and tried to memorize the outfits of people I passed on the street—from their shoes all the way up to their hair. If I spotted a unique outfit, I'd look through fashion magazines and try to figure out which combinations they used. Coordinating outfits like that was something constantly on my mind.

Just now, when I saw the designer's photo, my eyes were unconsciously drawn to her outfit before anything else. Still, I've never thought of it as a viable career path so far. I consider my knowledge of fashion as amateurish, at best, let alone actually being able to design things.

I wonder where the designer found the courage to step into such an unusual field.

I was broken out of my thoughts when my Stepdad called my name. I looked up in surprise and glanced at the clock—almost 8 pm. Time for dinner, it seemed.

I called back to him, left my room, and opened the door to the dining room. Stepdad had already started setting the table, so I rushed to help him. Please let me do at least that much.

As I was serving the rice, Asamura-kun arrived home from work.

***

"Let's eat."

The three of us—Asamura-kun, Stepdad, and I, dug in.

A huge plate of pork and vegetable stir-fry was plonked down in the middle of the table, and we each had a bowl of rice and miso soup in front of us. Simple.

Using a set of chopsticks meant for serving, I transferred some vegetables onto my small plate. I guess Stepdad remembered that, when I first moved in, I used to avoid picking up shared food directly with my chopsticks. I don't really mind it anymore, though. There wasn't much meat to speak of, but that's okay.

There were three types of vegetables: green cabbage, red carrot, and white (or maybe yellow?) bean sprouts. The colors mixed beautifully and it looked really tasty.

I switched to my own chopsticks and brought some vegetables to my mouth. I felt the gentle warmth near my lips. That's always one good thing about freshly-made food. The vegetables were still warm, but I was glad they weren't too hot.

When I bit into the cabbage, I felt a satisfying crunch—yep, it's delicious. Leafy vegetables lose their freshness and become limp if they're overcooked. They were cooked just right. I chewed and chewed then swallowed it down.

The seasoning was a bit different from mine. Salt, pepper, and... there's something that makes it taste a little like Chinese vegetable stir-fry... sesame oil, maybe? Either way, it seemed like only a drop or two had been added. I wonder if he used a recipe or learned how to make it from Mom. All said, his warm, freshly-made vegetable stir-fry tasted very delicious.

My biological father had never cooked a meal for me like this.

"So… how is it?" Stepdad asked nervously.

"It could use a touch less salt." Asamura-kun immediately gave his honest opinion.

Well, it is true. With the amount of salt in it, we'll probably get thirsty by the time we finish eating. But I can also understand why Stepdad might've thought the flavor was lacking when he taste-tested it.

"It's delicious! The cabbage has a nice crunch to it."

"Oh, really?! Yeah, Akiko-san told me to pay attention to that."

So it was my mom's advice after all.

So, maybe the sesame oil had been her suggestion too. It's surprising since we don't usually use it. In the Ayase family, we often add chicken broth powder for flavoring. Adding just a little bit gives depth to a dish's flavor. Personally, I like adding a drop of oyster sauce. Anyway, as usual, my Mom's advice was spot on.

And then there's the saltiness issue…

I guess we'll have to get used to it.

That said, too much salt isn't good for people's health either. When we're tired, we tend to make dishes saltier, but heavy seasoning can be hard on our stomachs too.

After some thought, I decided to give Stepdad a few tips on seasoning. Thinking back to Asamura-kun's honest opinion, I figured I was being too reserved at times like this because he wasn't my real father.

As I carried the dishes to the sink, we decided that I'd take my bath first.

I grabbed my change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. I quickly undressed, rinsed myself off in the shower, and eased myself into the bathtub for a good soak.

Wrapped in the warm water's embrace, my thoughts drifted back to the advice I gave Stepdad earlier.

Did it come across like I was invalidating Asamura-kun's opinion? It was more like a follow-up than that, and I don't think Asamura-kun was particularly bothered by it.

But I wasn't sure—anxiety crept up inside me because I didn't know what he was thinking, possibly because we hadn't talked much today.

"Maybe I'm worrying too much…" My words leaked out as the droplet that had clung onto my forehead fell to the hot bath's surface.

Once I start worrying about something, the creeping uneasiness in my heart continues to grow and refuses to disappear. Even if I get out of the bath, study for tomorrow's class or read fashion magazines, the unease doesn't let up.

So, I reluctantly put on my bathrobe and knocked on Asamura-kun's bedroom door.

The dining room light behind me had already been turned off, and only the faint light of a night light illuminated the area. The white door to Asamura-kun's room was the only thing that stood out, a square cutout amidst the dimly lit hallway. I waited for a response, then opened the door a crack and slipped inside. I locked the door behind me. That guilty feeling, like I was carrying a heavy stone in my heart for hiding something from my parents, welled up inside me. But, as soon as I saw Asamura-kun's face I let out a sigh of relief, and the stone was lifted from me.

It looked like Asamura-kun was just about to go to sleep as he was in bed sitting on his side.

"Um, well... I don't really have anything in particular to talk about, but…"

I sought his permission by making eye contact, then sat down beside him.

I tried to be honest.

"...I was just thinking we didn't have much time to talk today."

"Well, let's chat for a bit, okay?"

Little by little, I started telling him about my day, and he responded by telling him about his own. He didn't seem worried about what happened during dinner earlier. Thank goodness.

Asamura-kun also told me that he ate lunch with his friend Shinjo-kun on a bench at school. Shinjo-kun was in the same class as me last year, but this year he's in a different class from both me and Asamura-kun. We haven't had much contact since last year, so I'd completely forgotten, but he's friends with Asamura-kun and Maru-kun, isn't he?

They had lunch together, huh? I see.

"Eating lunch together, huh? That sounds nice."

I accidentally put my thoughts into words. Then he pointed out that we had dinner. That's true, but still…

"We weren't sitting next to each other at dinner."

On the days when Mom or I cook dinner, we often sit on the kitchen side as we move back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room. Saying that, my Stepdad and my Mom sit next to each other on weekends, and if I'm the one cooking I made an effort to put their plates next to each other. They are technically newlyweds.

Surprisingly, Asamura-kun and I don't end up sitting next to each other all that often.

Sitting side by side. Within touching distance.

That's a big thing for me. I wish I could do it. When I told him that, he said he'd rather touch shoulders with me rather than anyone else. So in response, I playfully bumped my shoulder against his.

I know I'm being needy. I just want to make sure that his heart hasn't drifted away from me. That's how I feel. Just as I was about to ask for a hug to align our feelings, he whispered in my ear, "Can I hug you?" and I instinctively jumped onto his chest.

Asamura-kun lost his balance and fell onto the bed, but he held me firmly so that I wouldn't roll off. He hugged me tight, his arms wrapped around my back. I could feel his warmth where our bodies pressed together. I reflectively took a deep breath. The uneasiness that'd been lingering in my heart started to fade away. Just as I felt a sense of relief, drowsiness suddenly overwhelmed me…

…As I shot awake, I could see the white-indigo dawn sky outside Asamura-kun's window—Oh crap, I fell asleep!

***

Realizing my mistake, I broke out in a cold sweat.

I looked up at the bright ceiling light. Then, I turned my head to the side and stared at Asamura-kun's sleeping face. I listened to his gentle breathing. Clearly, I'd fallen asleep while we were hugging.

How long have I been asleep? I craned my neck to look at the clock on the bedside table—5:12 am. It's already early morning.

I panicked and tried to pull away from the sleeping Asamura-kun, then hesitated.

I shouldn't wake him up.

I peeked at his face, and saw he was breathing rhythmically with his eyelids still closed. He was sound asleep. Phew.

I slowly eased my body away from his and swung my legs over the side of the bed, putting the soles of my feet on the hardwood floor. I could feel the coldness of the floor through my socks. The air conditioner had shut off, perhaps because it was set on a timer. I hugged myself with both arms to stop my body from shivering.

After covering Asamura-kun with the blanket I had slipped out of, I stood up and crept toward the door, trying to be as quiet as a mouse.

Still, I'd completely let my guard down. It must be because we had spent so much time apart. His warmth, which I hadn't felt in a while, was so comforting that I was suddenly overwhelmed by drowsiness. It might've also been because of the late nights studying.

If anyone—especially our parents—saw us like this…

Let's just say I'm glad I locked the door.

I doubted our parents would peek into our rooms without a reason anyway, but it didn't stop the creeping anxiety from asking me, "Did they somehow sense that we were both in the room?" I strained my ears for any sound in the hallway, before gently easing the door open—creakkk. The sound of the door's hinges made my heart skip a beat.

I-It's okay, right?

I glanced left and right. Good. No one in the hallway. Taking a deep breath, I let out a sigh and was about to return to my room when I noticed how parched I was. Was it because of my nerves just now? No, it's probably because I just woke up. My body was craving hydration. There should be barley tea in the fridge, right?

I headed to the kitchen. Opening the door that connected the hallway to the living and dining room—

"Oh, it's unusual for you to be up at this time."

"Mo–"

I almost let out an involuntary shriek.

My Mom, sitting at the table, turned her face towards me.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, yeah. I dozed off at a weird time and woke up early, maybe that's why."

She was still dressed in her work clothes and she hadn't removed her lipstick yet.

Is it possible that…?

"Did you just get home?"

"Yeah."

It was past 5 am and the first trains had already started running. Even for a night shift, it seemed kinda late to be getting back.

"Did you always come home this late?"

"Actually, this is early. I often come back after everyone has left."

When I asked for details, she said her manager had told her she could go home early today and skip the bar's prep for the next night. There weren't as many customers on Tuesday and Wednesday, so it wasn't as busy.

"I didn't know you came home so late…"

"Well, when you were little, I made sure to be home in time for breakfast."

I started helping my Mom with cooking in my fifth grade of elementary school. At the time, I remember my home economics teacher praising me for how efficiently I boiled potatoes. There was a reason for that; I'd just happened to learn it from my mother shortly before starting the class.

In hindsight, that experience became a turning point for me. People gain confidence when they're praised for their abilities. So, I gained confidence in cooking and wanted to help my Mom.

Before junior high started I learnt how to make simple dishes—as I needed to bring my own bento to school—so my busy Mom wouldn't have to make it for me. In elementary school, she hadn't let me do any deep-frying.

Still, in the early days of junior high, she always made breakfast and lunch for me. That was around the time my parents got divorced, so it must've been tough for her.

"But are you okay? You're not overworking yourself?"

"I can take breaks when I need them now."

Ah, because Stepdad was with her now. He mentioned it before.

But, recently, he'd also been coming home late almost every night.

"Mom, why do you work so much?"

I was curious because I thought working late at night, or even just working in general, was tough. But my mom's answer was—

"You know, I don't think I work that much."

"But you come home late every day."

"That's just because I start at night, so my working hours are normal. The later you start, the later you finish. I also get a night shift bonus. It's not like I'm working at a black company[2] or anything."

[2: A black company is a Japanese term for a company with poor working conditions that can cause health problems.]

Her response was pretty matter-of-fact.

My "hard work" seems to be just "normal" for my mother, and she didn't seem to understand the nuance of "is work really something that requires you to sacrifice your body and time like that?"

"And besides, I plan to relax, drink some tea, take a long bath, and get plenty of sleep after this."

Both my Stepdad and Mom seem like workaholics to me.

"Just don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

"Thank you. I won't."

"Mhm. Oh, tea, right?"

"Oh, I'll make it myself."

"But I woke up at a strange time, so I probably won't be able to sleep right away. Just sit down."

As I said that, she quietly sat back down in the dining room chair she'd been hovering over.

I flipped the switch on the electric kettle and used the time it took for the water to boil to find some tea leaves.

That being said, rummaging through the cupboard to find a container this early in the morning would make a lot of noise, so I opted for a tea bag instead. Caffeine-free, of course.

With a click, the kettle's switch blinked off. I poured the boiling water into a cup with the teabag in it and handed it to her.

"You want sugar?"

"This is fine since I'm about to go to bed." She said "This" as she held up the cup of steaming tea.

I followed my Mom's lead and went for straight tea. I sat down in front of her.

I lifted my teacup closer to my face. The aroma of the tea rose, mingling with the steam, and tickled the tip of my nose.

"It smells so nice, don't you think?"

When I raised my head at the sound of her voice, my Mom was also enjoying the aroma in the same pose as me.

Or more accurately, I must have picked up my mannerisms from watching my Mom as I grew up. At times, I notice myself making the same gestures as her—like how we hold our chopsticks, how we hesitate, or how I prop my elbow up on the table when lifting a cup. That's how much influence she has on me.

But I realized I didn't know anything about her job.

"Hey, Mom."

She raised her eyes from the tea and looked at me with a "What is it?" expression.

After struggling with how to ask about what "working" means to her, I ended up deciding just to ask her straight out.

"Is being a bartender a tough job? Why do you keep doing it?"

"I don't think there's any job that isn't difficult in some way, but…"

She looked down for a moment, searching for an answer in her cup, then looked up at me.

"Lots of people work while everyone else is asleep—I don't think that's exclusive to bartenders. It might have been different in the Edo period or something, but today's cities run 24 hours a day, you know?"

"Like convenience stores you mean?"

I thought the answer was too simplistic, but as expected, my Mom just chuckled.

"Not only that. For example, this tea." She slightly lifted the cup.

"We're drinking it in a room lit by electricity with boiled water. Water and electricity don't stop working just because it's nighttime. There are people who make sure they don't get cut off. We can turn on the lights, boil water, and drink tea without any worries because someone is working somewhere at night."

"That's...true."

"There are people who run trains and drive trucks at night to transport things. There are people who guard warehouses and buildings at night. There are people who repair roads and railways at night. That's why our lives can continue as they do."

There are people who're always working while everyone else in the city has fallen asleep. It may not be the majority, obviously, but society's infrastructure would grind to a halt without them.

"You probably don't remember, but when you were two, you had a fever in the middle of the night."

"What? I don't remember."

I was genuinely surprised, but I got a look that said, "Of course, you didn't."

"Well, you were two, I'd be amazed if you remembered. Anyway, I was a first-time parent, and I had to find an emergency doctor who'd treat you at night."

She rushed me to the hospital, but by the time we got there, my fever had already gone down. She apologized profusely to the doctor at reception, but they didn't get angry and were kind to her.

"At the time, that man was also panicking and came to the hospital with me…"

She took a sip of her tea and grimaced like the tea leaves were bitter.

"I see…"

"Well, jobs with different lifestyles can be tough, really tough. Living a life where night and day are reversed can easily disrupt hormonal balance, resulting in constant small health problems. It can also lead to irregular menstrual cycles, too."

"Ah, I see. That does happen."

"That's why you're not allowed to stay up late. You shouldn't study too late either."

"...Don't people normally tell students preparing for exams to study more, though?"

"Well, if you get sick, you might not be able to show off all the skills you get from studying. That'd be a hassle, don't you think?"

She's absolutely right…

My Mom chuckled and continued the conversation, "Also, well, the area where I work may not be the safest place. It's not too bad, though."

The bar she works at is in a corner of Shibuya's bustling district. Since it's just one street away from the main road, it isn't exactly the safest spot.

Sometimes drunk people get into fights, and people are robbed from time to time. A club located just a few minutes walk away had once been raided by police to catch drug addicts… or so I heard.

I frowned. It's definitely a bit scary.

My Mom's bar is in that neighborhood, but it's just a normal place where she works as a bartender, nothing shady.

"By the way Saki, do you know what being a bartender is like?"

"I've only seen it in movies and stuff, but... isn't it someone who stands behind the bar and serves drinks?"

This time, she gave me a bitter smile.

"Well, you're not entirely wrong. The basic job is to serve customers and make cocktails."

I vaguely remember seeing something like that in movies and videos.

I pretended I was holding an imaginary cocktail shaker, shaking it up and down with both my hands.

"This way, like this."

As she said that, my Mom demonstrated how a pro does it, her movements looking practiced. I can't explain what was different between mine and hers, but I can just tell. I simply shook it up and down, but my mother moved her entire arm and added a bit of a snap, causing the tip of the imaginary cocktail shaker to draw an arc.

"That seems difficult."

"Well, if someone with no experience could do it right off the bat, it wouldn't be a job, would it? You can't watch someone make every drink, so you have to memorize a lot of cocktail recipes and learn how to use all the little tools, like cocktail shakers."

"That's a lot to remember."

"Learning how to use tools for work is the same for any job, right?"

"Even if you worked at a company or something?"

"Oh, I suck at using computers, remember?"

"I know."

My Mom is someone who couldn't even use the calendar app on her phone until I showed her.

"You can think of it like anything you do in a restaurant, you also do in a bar. Customer service, serving food and drinks, accounting, inventory management… even the part-time job you're doing probably has all that aside from serving food and drinks, right?"

"Yeah."

She was spot on. At the bookstore, I do customer service, accounting, and shelf organization. I haven't done things like ordering books, yet, because I've only been working there for less than a year. Now that I think about it, Yomiuri-san orders a certain number of books. Sometimes she asked Asamura-kun, "How many of these do you think we should order?" I think it's kinda amazing that Asamura-kun can give her a specific number in response.

Sometimes, when the number of orders comes in and we manage to sell them all just before the return deadline they would both do a fist pump. I felt a little frustrated that I couldn't join in on that.

"Anyway, that's the gist of the job."

"What's the toughest part?"

"Hmm, probably customer service. I want customers to feel like they had a good time and want to come back. I think that's important to get regulars."

She sighed as she said that, and leaned both elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands.

"It can be frustrating to deal with customers who try to sexually harass us even though it's not that kind of place and not to get angry about it."

"Sexual harassment…"

"Well, I don't really care if they just tease us with words at this point, but there are people who try to get too handsy from time to time."

Just hearing that made me feel angry.

"Should we knock them out or call the police?"

Just thinking about people who'd try to touch my Mom makes me want to poke a hole in their palm with an ice pick. Why would someone do that?

But, she just said "I don't want you to do that." with a bitter smile.

"It's not like I can't do it, I just don't want to."

The tea had gone cold when I wasn't paying attention.

Cradling the cup with both hands, I took small sips of the remaining amber liquid.

She said, "Thanks for getting angry on my behalf," so I think I must've been making a sulky face.

"But you know... I don't think humans are superior."

She started using some big words.

"Uh, superior?"

"How do I say this…" My Mom searched for the right words as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Smart? Intelligent? Whatever you want to call it. I'm not saying humans are terrible creatures, I just don't think we can always live up to the expectations of others."

"Umm…"

──What does she mean?

"So, basically, I think the core of human nature is pretty meaningless. But we're all expected to act rationally and decently in society."

"Well, if everyone lost their sense of reason and let loose, it would be a problem."

I want to believe it won't come to that. I want to live in a society where I can get water from the tap and boil it, even at night.

"I think it's unrealistic to live solely on reason. We're animals, too. So, if we don't let loose and vent our trivial selves somewhere, we'll keep accumulating that stress, and we'll become more and more unhappy."

Maybe she's talking about the issues that stressed-out people would cause—such as ruining family relationships or causing trouble at work.

"But it's more like being a beast than an animal to touch someone without permission, in my opinion."

"Well, that depends on your point of view," she said with another bitter smile.

Then, my mother explained that she takes pride in "skillfully deflecting" customers who fail to "let loose" in a more appropriate way.

There are many ways people deal with the stress of maintaining their social lives: some sing loudly at karaoke, some shoot people in video games, some work up a sweat playing sports, and some vent their frustrations to their families—

And others let off steam by drinking.

Not all customers who go to a bar to drink are the same. Some enjoy the taste of alcohol without losing their senses, while others go "to get drunk." The bar is open for everyone who wants to drink. That's what my Mom believes.

"Obviously this is just my personal opinion."

"Hmm, I still don't agree with it."

"It also depends on the bar's policy. There are some bars that kick out anyone who starts acting inappropriately straight away."

"I'd feel better if you worked in a bar like that."

"But think about it, Saki. By letting loose in a bar, that customer might not take out their frustrations on their family at home. It might keep the family together—don't you think that makes it a very rewarding job?"

Keeping a family together—

"Well…"

I understood what she was saying. But still, I couldn't help but dwell on it.

Ironically, it was my Mom starting her job as a bartender to keep our family together that led to my biological father and her separating.

No... maybe it's the other way around.

Maybe it was because of what happened that my Mom found fulfillment in her job.

Holding her tea, my Mom smiled softly at me. I couldn't see any signs of her forcing herself to do it, and I definitely feel that she's finding fulfillment as a bartender.

"But isn't that delicate, tricky, and annoying customer service difficult, though?"

She laughed as I fumbled my way through my question.

"In your case, that last part is probably your true feelings."

Well, yeah, I hate drunk people.

"Hehe. Still, I won't say it's easy. If I don't handle the situation well and cross the line of 'this is not okay,' then the customer, me, and the bar will all be in trouble. That's not good for anyone involved."

Then she raised her finger to emphasize her point as if trying to convince me.

"The thing is, rather than just throwing out customers who get out of control, the goal is to let them release their pent-up frustration while making sure they don't cause any big problems… I take a certain pride in improving and practicing that skill."

She wants to be able to handle any customer who walks into the bar, no matter what type of person they are.

"Although making and serving cocktails is the main part of the job, I find the most fulfillment in serving customers." She concluded with that.

"I don't think I could do your job."

Just hearing about it made me feel mentally exhausted.

"Oh my. When I was in high school, I didn't know if the job I have now would suit me, either."

My Mom tapped my cup with her finger and asked, "Are you done?" I nodded reflexively as I realized that my cup was empty. She stood up from the table and grabbed both hers and my empty cups, taking them to the sink.

So basically she was keeping tabs on how much tea was in my cup more than I was. Hmm.

"There's no rush," my Mom said as she rinsed the cups out.

"It's actually pretty difficult to know what you're suited for."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Yeah. Surprisingly, what you think is nothing special might turn out to be difficult for other people and could be your true calling."

"I wonder if that really happens. I can't think of anything I'm particularly good at."

I've never thought that I have any special talent. That's why I at least try to be good at schoolwork.

"It doesn't have to be a talent you were born with. It could be something you've picked up by just doing everyday things. Like, I've always been the type of person who friends come to for advice. I guess I'm just easy to talk to."

Just seeing my Mom's gentle smile, I think I got it.

"I never really thought about it, but I feel like I've been doing the same thing all along."

Advice, huh?

"Saki, I'm sure your friends also ask you for one or two favors, don't they?"

Well, to be honest, I can't think of anyone besides Maaya who I would call a friend.

I'm well aware I'm not the best at socializing. Back in my first year of high school, I thought it was better to avoid tiresome relationships rather than waste my time and energy on them. It's unrealistic to expect people to understand things I don't even say out loud. That's why I really value Maaya. She's straightforward about her needs and respects my decision if I say no.

There was a time when I cut off all my friendships except for Maaya. Recently, my friendship circle has grown again thanks to Asamura-kun's influence...

I wonder if people like Maaya could be called "social butterflies."

Wait a sec. I just realized something. Then where was I planning to find a job and make money? My Mom said it herself earlier.

"...Customer service, serving food and drinks, accounting, inventory management… even the part-time job you're doing probably has all that aside from serving food and drinks, right?"

That's true. All I did was try working part-time at a bookstore, but I ended up doing all of that. But can someone who easily cuts off friendships because they see them as too stressful really handle customer service?

The more I think about it, the more impossible it seems.

While putting our cups in the dish drainer, my Mom repeated, "There's no need to rush."

"Yeah…"

I said goodnight to her as she headed to bed, and I returned to my own room.

Something that's difficult for others but easy for me, huh?

Is there anything like that? Even thinking back on recent events, I can't think of anything.

When I was struggling with the Modern Japanese Literature test, I leaned on Asamura-kun for help, and Maaya was the one who motivated me to keep going when I felt bored because I couldn't meet Asamura-kun on the school trip.

Asamura-kun and Maaya both seem good at customer service.

I'm useless. The only time I was able to help was when I went clothes shopping with Asamura-kun. He praised me a lot for it, but all I did was look for clothes that suited him. It's nothing to brag about.

I picked up my phone, which was currently charging, and wondered how many hours were left until breakfast.

As I unlocked the screen, the article about the designer from Tsukinomiya Women's University's graduate program popped up.

As I thought earlier, I consider my knowledge of fashion to be amateurish, at best. Being able to actually design anything was out of the question. At this point, I don't think I could catch up by studying fashion and art now.

But still—

I wonder if there's a job where I can help people choose clothes as I did with Asamura-kun.

"Job hunting, huh…"

I caught a glimpse of the blue morning sky through a gap in my curtains.

The thin rays of sunlight shining through made streaks of light on my bed.

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