#grammar errors

“I didn’t think we’d meet this way,” she said with her head down. “All that hard work, and I still ended up in trouble.”

She then sighed. “I wanted to find you and thank you. But never like this.” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “I- I’m sorry.”

Why’d he have to come into her life now?

She bit her lip hard, and looked him square in the eye. Her eyes glistened with silver. “Pl- please. Please leave me.”

The man who sat across from her, lazily sitting back in the chair, stopped short of finishing his cigarette.

He could only look at her.

She continued talking. “I don’t know your name…but, thank you. Thank you for being the last person who was ever here for me.” She stared down at her lap. But this time her shoulders shook. Her lips quivering.

The man she was talking to was still silent and stoic. His face hid his thoughts. He looked at the cigarette in his hand before leaning forward, putting it out in the ashtray before him.

“Goro.”

She looked up quickly, her eyes widening.

“Huh?”

“My name’s Goro.”

•••

A week before.

“You’ll be late for school!”

A mother ushered her son out of his room as he groggily rubbed at his eyes. “Mom,” He whined. “School starts in three hours. I’ll be there on time.”

She sighed and shook her head. “But you were late last time,” She reasoned. “That will n- never happen again.”

She rubbed her wrist, her thoughts inevitably thinking back to that day. “I want you to be your best self,” She whispered.

The son nodded. “I know, Mom.”

She smiled forcibly, moving around again. She grabbed her son’s backpack and walked to the kitchen to grab his bento box on the table.

Yet, her son didn’t move.

He frowned.

The mother then grabbed the house keys and turned around to face her son. “Akihiko?”

She held his things out to him, her right hand extended. “You have everything ready for school,” She said. “I’ll be off to work. But you know the drill. Don’t leave the house later than 7.”

He nodded, but he opened his mouth, as though he were about to say something. But he closed it. He opened his mouth again, but then closed it.

She frowned. “Aki?”

He didn’t make eye contact with his mother.

She walked forward, her face full of concern. Maybe even fear. She touched his forearm, slightly crouching down to his level (but not by much due to his burgeoning grow-spurt).

“Aki-bou?”

The son met his mother’s gaze and at that moment she could see the resemblance between the prepubescent and her late brother. Yet, the gaze was more innocent but…just as sad.

She ignored that thought and shook her son’s shoulder gently. “Aki-bou?”

“Mama,” He whispered. “D- did you really fall down the stairs?”

Without a beat she replied, “Yes. You know I’ve always been rather clumsy.”

She patted his shoulder and smiled. “I’m a little embarrassed about it.”

Akihiko’s shoulders relaxed some. “Ah, okay.”

He smiled and his mother smiled back.

“Let me know if you’re going over Fumiya-kun’s house,” She said straightening her posture. “I’ll be at the massage parlor until about three.”

“Okay.”

The mother smiled again and turned around. She walked to the door, but doubled back. “Oh, Aki,” She said. “If Fumiya-kun invites you over, please let Terasawa-san know to call your father instead of me.”

The son nodded respectfully. The mother gave another small smile and exited the house.

•••

The massage parlor had seen busier days but the regulars still showed, ensuring business and profit.

The receptionist looked at her phone but quickly focused her eyes on the door. “Makimura-san might take my phone away again,” She mumbled with an eye roll.

Yet, the receptionist’s eyes trailed to the phone again.

“Aia!”

The receptionist’s head shot up. “Makimura-buchou!” She said with a quick bow of her head.

The middle-aged woman gave her subordinate an apprehensive look. But she simply shook her head and said, “I’ve warned you about Kagome…”

Aia nodded. “I know. But he’s really a nice guy.”

“They all start out nice…” Makimura-san said. “But–“

Aia smiled. “Ah, Makimura-san. Tateyama-sama– I mean, Tateyama-san is a good husband. Not everyone is lucky like you.”

Despite Aia being a subordinate, Makimura-san still saw her as a friend or a niece. Even though she was lazy and chasing after the wrong guys, that didn’t necessarily mean she saw the college student as anything less.

But Makimura-san frowned at Aia’s words. She hadn’t caught herself in time and she was questioned.

“Makimura-san,” Aia said softly. “Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head quickly, waving away the young girl’s words. “No, Aia. I- I’m just thinking about how I still need to get him a birthday gift. But I haven’t had the time.”

That was a partial lie.

Regardless, Aia’s whole face lit up as she jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “Makimura-san, I know where we can go.”

“Aia,” The masseuse said with a bit of resignation. “Please refer to me as Tateyama-san.“

Aia’s face sobered, the brightness gone. “Oh, okay.”

“At least at work,” Tateyama-san said, relenting. “Call me Makoto outside of work. Like, when we’re going shopping after we lock up.”

Aia’s face lit up again. “Okay, Tateyama-san”

•••

Makoto eyed the blazer with wonder. Despite being near her forties, past the age of bold and daring she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing the hanger.

She looked both ways, but the floor workers and sales team were tending to other shoppers, or simply at the check-out counter with facial expressions of disinterest and boredom.

Therefore, they simply weren’t thinking about her.

So, she walked inside one of the changing stalls.

She wasn’t going to take off any clothing since she was trying on a blazer. But she didn’t want to be seen.

Leaving the blazer unbuttoned she looked at herself in the mirror. She angled her body to one side, and then she struck a small pose with a hand on her hip.

“Makoto?” Aia called. “Where’d she go…?”

Makoto took off the blazer quickly and put it back on the hanger. She was about to hang it up on the back of the door so Ai wouldn’t see her bold choice of clothing. But she decided against it because for one, Aia wasn’t judgmental and…

Makoto wanted to buy the blazer.

As she opened the door, Aia turned around and smiled. “Makoto-san!”

The young girl had shopping bags hanging from both of her arms. Obviously she’d used up most of her paycheck.

But Makoto smiled at that because Aia truly represented what youth was. Even though she herself never experienced it properly. Aia was the epitome of young, dumb, and broke.

“Ooh!” Aia made a sound from her lips looking directly at the article of clothing Makoto held. “Are you planning on buying that?!”

Makoto didn’t say anything. But with Aia’s raised eyebrow she suddenly didn’t want to hold it anymore. Therefore, she shook her head. “No, Aia-chan.”

•••

She kept the blazer in the very back of the closet.

She was never going to wear it. She knew that. After all, a semi-working mother didn’t wear stuff like that. They wore unprinted polyester shirts consisting of earth tones, calf to ankle length skirts, and canvas shoes. When feeling dangerous, maybe a shoe with a 5 inch heel.

Not anything like the blazer hidden in her closet.

After Aia and her stopped by Smile Burger for a quick evening snack they parted ways. But instead of going home Makoto had turned around and went in the direction of where the avenue of clothing stores were located.

Her steps quickened as she neared the specific clothing store she’d visited about an hour ago. But when she opened up the stall door, the blazer was no longer there.

Huh? She looked over to the racks where the blazer had hung before she picked it out.

“Ready to check out?”

Makoto turned around and saw a woman holding the blazer in her hand. She set it down on the counter before opening her purse, fishing for her wallet.

Makoto’s breathing quickened. Briefly she closed her eyes. Without a second thought she walked over to the woman and asked, “Hello, um, do you really want that blazer?”

The woman frowned. “Excuse me?”

“No, I mean…” Makoto swallowed nervously, before grabbing a blazer made out of jean material from a nearby rack. “This suits your style more.”

The woman stopped frowning and took the blazer from her. The sales associate gave her a death glare as though she were trying to steal her sale. But Makoto gave her a look that she hoped conveyed that that’s not what she was trying to do at all.

The sales associate’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and Makoto gave another warm smile.

“You’re right,” The woman finally said with a grin. “This is more of my style.”

Makoto’s smile was a bit wider. The woman asked the sales associate, “Would it be too much trouble for you to put this back for me?”

If Makoto could cry at that moment she would have. But she would have given herself away if she had.