“Hey, hey—Yuzurun and Arisa-chan. …Yuzurun, did you get a bit tanned?”
“Yeah, a little.”
Yuzuru replied lightly, then took some souvenirs out of his paper bag.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks. …Hmm. Macadamia nut chocolates? That’s a bit obvious.”
“I’d prefer you call it a safe choice.”
After that, Yuzuru handed out boxes of chocolate to the friends who had already arrived—Chiharu, Soichiro, Hijiri, and Tenka.
And lastly, he gave one to Arisa.
“Here, Arisa.”
“Thank you very much.”
Arisa accepted the box with a happy smile.
…As the box pressed lightly against her chest and slightly distorted its shape, Yuzuru quietly averted his eyes.
“Macadamia nuts, huh… looks like we overlapped.”
Saying that, Soichiro stood up, took a box from his own bag, and handed it to Yuzuru and Arisa.
“Thanks. …Hawaii again this year?”
“Yeah.”
The Satake family went to Hawaii every spring.
…With enough children to form a baseball team, it must be quite a lively trip.
“And one for Yukishiro-san.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Soichiro then handed a box to Arisa.
As she thanked him, he stared at her intently.
“Is something wrong?”
Arisa tilted her head in confusion.
Soichiro spoke.
“Would you mind if I started calling you Arisa-san instead?”
“I don’t mind, but…”
Her expression clearly said, Where is this coming from?
“Well… it seems Yukishiro-san will eventually become Takasegawa-san.”
For a moment, Arisa didn’t seem to understand.
Then, a beat later, her face turned bright red.
“Th-that’s…”
“If I’m going to change how I address you eventually, I thought I might as well start now. …What do you think?”
“Please! Yes, please do!!”
She nodded vigorously, clearly flustered and excited.
Then, in a small voice, she began murmuring, “Takasegawa Arisa… Takasegawa Arisa…” with a giddy smile.
Yuzuru watched her with mixed feelings.
…His fiancée had become a bit of a hopeless case.
“Ahem. I’ve got souvenirs too.”
Clearing her throat, Ayaka took something doll-like out of her bag and handed it to Yuzuru.
“…What is this?”
“A matryoshka. A classic Russian souvenir. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that.”
“That’s not what I mean. …What kind of matryoshka is this?”
“As you can see—President Putin.” May that bitch rot in hell.
Now that she said it, the face did resemble Putin somewhat.
And being a matryoshka, there were more figures inside.
“Yeltsin, Gorbachev, Brezhnev, Khrushchev, Stalin, Lenin… I see.” Stalin and Lenin too. But I guess they already are.
Whether it was just a novelty toy—
or some kind of Russian joke about how things never really change beneath the surface, Yuzuru couldn’t quite tell.
“And for Arisa-chan—a calendar.”
“…Thank you.”
Arisa accepted it with a rather conflicted expression.
Understandably so—there probably weren’t many high school girls who’d be thrilled to receive a Putin calendar.
“So, Arisa-chan—feel anything?”
“Um… what do you mean?”
“Like, a sense of Russian spirit. You’ve got Russian roots, right?”
“Unfortunately, I was born and raised in Japan…”
For some reason, that answer made Ayaka laugh cheerfully.
Then she took out a small box from her bag.
“Here—chocolates. …These are normal, no jokes included.”
“That’s a bit obvious.”
“Call it a safe choice.”
When it came to overseas souvenirs, chocolate was the standard.
It didn’t spoil easily, and it rarely went wrong.
So, during spring break, the ones who had travelled abroad were Yuzuru, Ayaka, and Soichiro.
Chiharu had gone on a domestic trip to a hot spring and brought back manjuu. A traditional Japanese sweet bun, often filled with red bean paste.
Tenka and Hijiri, it seemed, hadn’t travelled.
“Russia was… cold, but the ikura was delicious.” Ikura — salmon roe.
Naturally, the conversation shifted to travel stories.
Hijiri asked:
“Ikura… how do they eat it in Russia?”
“On bread, usually. And unlike in Japan, it’s salt-cured rather than soy-marinated. Pair it with vodka, and it’s really good…”
“…Vodka?”
Arisa reacted immediately.
“In Russia… can you drink alcohol at sixteen?”
“Who knows? But even if it’s not allowed, I doubt many Russians follow that rule strictly.”
“If they did, they’d probably be Western spies!” she added, laughing, apparently quoting their Russian guide.
“Hey, Ayaka… keep your voice down. This isn’t a year-end party or New Year’s gathering—it’s school.”
“Alright, alright.”
At Soichiro’s warning, Ayaka made a zipping motion over her mouth.
Meanwhile, Arisa wore a somewhat conflicted expression.
Being earnest, she probably wanted to say, Drinking is not allowed.
(…What should I do next year…)
At the Takasegawa household, alcohol was naturally served at year-end and New Year’s gatherings.
Yuzuru had drunk before.
And next year, Arisa—now his fiancée—and Amagi Naoki would surely be invited.
He’d rather not get scolded by Arisa…
Maybe she’d drink too?
…He decided not to think about it for now.
“I’ve heard that when you travel abroad, you start craving Japanese food. Is that true?”
Tenka asked.
It seemed she had never travelled overseas.
“Ah, yeah, definitely. When I go abroad, I bring cup noodles and onigiri with me,”
Chiharu answered.
The Uenishi family preferred domestic trips, but they did travel abroad occasionally.
“As for me… I ended up craving ikura-don, so I stopped by Tsukiji after getting back.”
“Didn’t you just eat loads of ikura over there?”
Soichiro looked exasperated.
“The taste is different. And bread is nice, but I still prefer rice… What about you, Yuzurun? What did you eat first after coming back?”
“I went to Ichiran.”
Ayumi had insisted she wanted ramen the moment they got back.
Since it was late, Ichiran was the only place open.
“The Takasegawa family returning from New Caledonia… and slurping ramen at Ichiran…”
“That’s kind of surreal, isn’t it?”
“Oi. It’s good, so who cares.”
Just then, someone tugged lightly at his sleeve.
It was Arisa.
“What is it?”
“Could you take me to a ramen shop sometime?”
He recalled she’d mentioned never going before.
Yuzuru gently patted her head.
“Yeah, let’s go together soon.”
Arisa smiled shyly, clearly pleased.
(She’s adorable,) Yuzuru thought to himself.
