Choices: The Sequel to Weathering With You

Welcome to University

Hodaka woke up the next morning feeling disoriented, perhaps even more depressed, cognizant of the fact that Hina was already gone, probably back to the university apartment. Outside, the morning air was fresh and cool. Hodaka breathed deeply, tasting the freshness. A light breeze lifted the hair that clung to his cold neck. When had he last done a hundred strokes with the hairbrush? He couldn't remember. Nagi would be furious if he found out that his own sister was not going to request his wish. Oh— He put the knuckles of his right hand into his mouth to contain his grief and stumbled into the kitchen where Suga and Natsumi were preparing breakfast. Within their shelter, Hodaka was mentally alone, invisible from the occupants of the house. He crumpled wearily onto the cushioned chair, then settled himself in a sitting position with a crafted work of tree trunk at his back. He had to think; there must be some way to salvage his life from the ruins; he refused to believe different.

Above his head a bluejay cried raucously. Hodaka looked up, heard a second jeering cry. "Fuck off," he shouted. The bird flew away, a whirr of gaudy blue.

Suga put out the plate of eggs in front of Moka's seat while her grandparents respectfully took their seats with traditional, nursed civility. Natsumi sat in a back-ended seat to keep her position upright. Any chairs without backends and she would risk falling backwards and hurt the baby. Wadashi was already digging in on his eggs when Hodaka sat down next to him. He took a full view of the kitchen and said.

"I think this room could some improvement, like a new coat of paint of something."

"Please," joked Suga's mother-in-law. "This rain is giving us all the whitewash we need. It's called rainwater."

Suga prevented himself from laughing. His mother-in-law reminded him too much of a character called Sophia Petrillo from the old American sitcom, The Golden Girls. Her husband just kept his mouth shut, preserving the honesty and respect of the household. No sounds erupted from his mouth other than his eating of the yolk, slurping some of it down his throat. Moka did her best to copy her grandparents for future etiquette at the table and slurped some portions of the eggs down.

"If I had to sacrifice any money between refurbishing our house or seeing to it that Natsumi delivers her baby safely," Wadashi was saying. "I'd pick moving to a new home. Maybe America. At least San Francisco's condition is not as bad as we currently are."

"How bad?" asked Hodaka.

"Probably five feet deep," was Wadashi's guess.

"Well, Tokyo is still partly my home too," Hodaka said. "And I like this atmosphere. In this house, we're all like one big happy family."

"It all depends on how you make it a fit place to live in," said Natsumi. "The churches and temples are filling up with refugees as we speak because of the flood. I wish it would stop so that things could go back to normal, otherwise...we may have to move to America."

"And if it's as bad was Wadashi says," Suga interjected. "You may have to stay here, or at the very least, we should move to higher ground. Then again, Natsumi's father's finances will probably help us build a new house: a house that can actually float."

"All of that will depend on how much money you can make to support all of us," said Suga's father-in-law after he had finished eating. "K&A won't be able to last forever because of the flood."

"I want us to be a family again!" Suga protested in his defense. "Tokyo is our home and I want us to be a family again in it, especially since there is no other place for you or Moka, or Oba-chan to go to."

"There are plenty of places," Oba-chan said. "But what we need is more room and space for Moka to run and play on. And the same goes for Natsumi's baby."