Trial
I tied my hair up tight with the hair tie that had been rolling around on the desk.
My scalp pulled hard.
I loosened it a little, and it felt better.
Just like that, I turned my head and looked in the mirror.
Messy strands stuck out every which way from the careless bun.
Even though it was the smallest size, my arms and legs still stuck out, so the pajamas had been folded over and stitched up—that caught my eye too.
I didn’t know how to sew.
Who had done this for me?
I still had no idea.
I shook my head and stepped out of the room.
Instead of the big earthenware pot from earlier, a small soup bowl of slightly cooled soybean paste stew sat waiting.
“Hurry up and eat. We’ve got a mountain of stuff to do.”
“Okaaay.”
I hurried over and sat at the table. Three ice cubes floated in the lukewarm barley tea.
The cup was cold, but something warm settled inside me as I took a sip, rinsed my mouth, and picked up my spoon.
No need for chopsticks.
Dad had already cut everything into bite-sized pieces for me.
“Hehe.”
I smiled quietly and moved the spoon.
A spoonful of warm rice.
A spoonful of stew at just the right temperature.
A bite of the potato set out beside it.
A piece of meat.
“Honestly… I think Dad’s soybean paste stew tastes way better than Mom’s…”
“Right? Only people who know how to eat get it. Kuhuhuh!”
That rough hand ruffled my hair again.
I felt every bit of it while I ate the real, salty soybean paste stew.
Peaceful.
Happy.
The stew that was far too bland—two spoonfuls.
The rice that had gone mushy from too much water—one spoonful.
The undercooked potato I chewed hard and swallowed.
The cheap, fatty meat I chewed half-heartedly and swallowed.
“Uuum… so what are we doing for the wedding anniversary this time?”
“This one’s exactly twenty years, so Dad’s been saving up a decent amount of money, you know?”
“…Isn’t that the money you were secretly saving last time and got scolded by Mom for?”
“Scolded? Nah. Mom just got sulky all by herself.”
As if recalling that moment, Dad smiled—warm and full of mischief—took a sip of lukewarm barley tea, and went on.
“Anyway, I want to get a ring made this time.”
“Ah… a ring.”
“Yeah. A ring… she doesn’t have a single one. So I want to get one made. For Mom and Dad. And for you.”
“…What? Me too?”
“What, you don’t want one?”
Dad’s right eyebrow shot up.
“N-no… it’s not that I don’t want one… just, wouldn’t it be better if it was only you and Mom?”
“Why leave you out?”
“Well…”
Because the money’s a waste rose up and hit the back of my throat, but I forced it down.
“Well… nothing. It’s a family ring for the family. How can you be left out?”
Family.
“…Okay, then.”
I lowered my head and shoveled the porridge-like rice into my mouth.
“Well, the ring’s one thing. We’ll buy flowers, write a letter…”
“That’s what you always do.”
Of course, the flowers weren’t bought.
They were ones he’d snipped from the ones growing in the backyard of the fire station.
“True. So this time I want to try something a little different.”
I chewed the tough meat in my mouth and tilted my head.
“Noah, if you don’t help me, we’re in big trouble.”
He snickered.
I swallowed the meat with a gulp at that ominous laugh.
What on earth was it?
Beep-beep— beep— squeak!
The sound of rubber balloons being twisted and tied filled the room.
“Haa… huff, D-Dad… I… I’m getting dizzy…”
“Tsk! Already? After I fed you a whole meal?”
“Nooo… th-this is way too… too many! Who blows up three hundred balloons with their mouth?!”
“Dad’s blowing them too, so it’s only half. No time—hurry up and blow!”
Whooooosh—
Was he actually Captain America?
Dad inflated a balloon to full size in a single breath, and for a moment he seemed amazing.
I needed two or three breaths just to get one halfway…
I stared at the wrinkled, half-deflated balloon in my hand.
“Then… when you proposed to Mom, did you blow up all three hundred balloons by yourself?”
Dad, balloon still in his mouth, nodded.
Then he tied off the plump balloon with a squeak and opened his mouth.
“Back then we didn’t even have a car or anything, so this was about all I could do… I blew like my life depended on it. Kuhuhuhu…”
A smile that looked truly happy.
“What did you like so much about Mom?”
“What did I like… there wasn’t anything like that. Just… hmm.”
Looking a little embarrassed, Dad scratched his head, picked up the next balloon, and said quietly,
“I liked everything.”
The expression and tone made even me feel shy.
“Ugh… eww… th-that’s gross, Dad.”
“You little brat! When you say that, I get embarrassed too!”
Smack—!
“Ow! Why hit me for that?!”
“Just blow the balloons already!”
“Sheesh…”
I rubbed my stinging forehead over and over and blew air into the wrinkled balloon in my hand.
An hour that felt like ten hours passed.
At last the hellish time ended.
My balloons: one hundred.
Dad’s balloons: two hundred.
“Alright, now we move them.”
“…These?”
“Yeah.”
“Where…?”
“To Dad’s car.”
“…Why?”
“The anniversary’s the day after tomorrow, so of course we have to hide them.”
Grinning, Dad gathered the balloons tied with thin string and stood up.
Twenty per bunch.
Fifteen trips total…
“What a pain…”
“If this goes well, Dad’ll buy you meat.”
“…We were already going to eat meat.”
Dad flinched, clicked his tongue, and forced the words out.
“Not the all-you-can-eat place… a regular meat restaurant.”
“…Really?”
“A man doesn’t take back his word.”
“Deal…”
I immediately grabbed a bunch of balloons and jumped to my feet.
Seeing that, Dad gave a bitter smile, opened the door, and started walking.
Watching his back, I said quietly,
“All-you-can-eat is fine too. I like the tteokbokki there.”
“That so?”
“Yeah. Whenever we go I eat a ton of tteokbokki. So… let’s just go to the usual place.”
“…Alright.”
Step— step—
Above the cold linoleum floor, the sound of socks with holes worn through the heels reached me.
And between those steps,
Sorry.
Dad’s small voice settled heavily.
I pressed my lips tight,
and deliberately swung the balloons this way and that, sending his apology far, far away.
Even after the sound faded,
Dad’s sunken back stayed the same.
“Honey, why does the house smell so weird?”
“Ahem! W-what smell!”
In the middle of dinner, Mom’s sharp words made Dad’s whole body jolt.
“Hmm… yeah. What is this smell? Rubber?”
Gasp…
“…Rubber smell all of a sudden?”
“I know, right. Strange… maybe it’s coming from next door?”
Dad’s urgent glance.
Awkwardly scooping rice, I saw that look and forced my lips open.
“Uh, th-that… maybe? Y-you know how it sometimes comes in through the vent.”
“What are they doing over there to make a rubber smell like this?”
Sniffing repeatedly and tilting her head, Mom finally nodded and murmured,
“It was about time to go anyway. I’ll check tomorrow.”
Hearing that, Dad gulped down water and looked at me with trembling eyes.
I ignored that pitiful gaze and shook my head.
I… can’t do it.
Mom’s too hard to fool…
A moment later, Dad’s loud voice broke the awkward silence.
“Anyway. Honey, is this new house okay?”
“Ah… yeah. The client has trouble moving, so helping with showers is a bit tiring, but it’s fine. The family is kind too.”
“That’s a relief.”
A smile of genuine relief.
“What made you ask about that all of a sudden?”
“Ahh, one of my coworkers has a wife who’s a care worker like you. He said the new family’s being really demanding, so… I got a little worried.”
“Oh my… really? Why? Because of the burn on my face, thinking I’d hear more nasty comments?”
Dad flinched—the soybean paste stew on his spoon splattered down.
“N-no? Just worried you’d have a hard time…”
“Hehehe. It’s fine. These people don’t even seem to notice. If anything, they try not to look on purpose… I’m grateful for them.”
Dad’s mouth corners twitched up and down like crazy.
“R-right… yeah. That’s good… really.”
“Aigoo… you really do have that cute side because you’re younger.”
Mom carefully set down the teapot full of warm barley tea and poked Dad’s cheek.
“Younger, my foot… once you’re past forty everyone’s just friends.”
Dad gently took Mom’s hand, whipped his head away, and carefully kneaded her fingers with his rough ones.
…Does he not know Mom’s ring size?
Seeing that, Mom gave a subtle smile and looked at me.
“Four years younger is definitely younger. Right, Noah?”
Dad’s and my eyes locked sharply.
“…H-honestly… four years… does count as younger, I think…”
“Hehe, see?”
“Hah…”
I avoided Dad’s glare that screamed “traitor” and scooped up more stew.
The potatoes were soft and perfectly cooked.
The seasoning was just right.
It clung to my mouth so well.
…Mom’s the best.
Even so, Dad’s fingers never stopped tracing Mom’s ring finger.
Looks like he’s already been found out.
Sigh.
“You’re here? Traitor.”
“…Honestly, four years… is younger…”
“Was the stew that good?”
“Ugh…”
I turned my eyes left and sidled over to sit next to Dad.
“Did you pick the ring designs?”
Dad, still squinting at me, handed over his phone with the gallery open.
A gallery packed with photos of Mom and me.
At the very top, six ring photos clustered together.
I tapped the first one and studied the design.
“Hmm… kinda meh.”
Next.
“This one’s… too thin for Dad.”
Next.
“Eugh, total gangster ring.”
Next.
And so on.
When the fifth ring photo appeared,
“…Huh?”
I felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu.
A silver-white base with a blue cubic stone set in it.
The name of that ring was
Rubia (RuBia).