Summer By The Sea [A sorta-sequel to Weekend at Hisao's]

[AntonSlavik020]

Ah. That actually makes sense. Looking forward to it either way.

[Mirage_GSM]

I didn't even consider the possibility she might be alive until you mentioned a "conversation"

[themocaw]

[Someone's already been here,] I sign to Hisao, as we approach the grave stone. [Looks like the place has been cleaned up a bit.]

Hideaki says something to my boyfriend, who nods and signs to me. [Hideaki says that your father came here the day you arrived.]

Ah. That makes sense. That would probably explain why there's still water rings on the granite stones, and why there are a few weeds left behind here and there. My Dad's many things, but good at cleaning up isn't one of those things.

[There's a spring up at the top of the hill,] I explain to Hisao. [Why don't you take Hideaki and go there? I'll get started here.]

Hisao nods and says something to my little brother, who gives him one of his trademark nonchalant nods before the two of them head up the granite stairs to the temple. Which leaves me some time alone with the grave stone, which is what I wanted.

I reach out and run my fingers along the kanji engraved into one surface of the grey-flecked stone. Hakamichi Saori, it reads, just below the second name written above it and marked in red ink. Such a small epitaph to encompass such a remarkable woman.

I close my eyes and I can still see the face of my mother, faded and fuzzy as it is by time and memory. Tall. Beautiful. Strong. Long black hair that flowed over her shoulders like black water. Hard dark eyes that shone with love every time she looked at me. Soft delicate hands that deftly worked knife and food into beautiful works of culinary art.

It's been over five years since I last tasted the "sausage octopi" she used to put in my bento box when I was little. I've tried every recipe I could find to recreate the taste. I can't ever seem to figure it out. Maybe the missing flavor is something that could only be achieved by a mother preparing a lunch for her seven year-old daughter.

The sun warms the back of my neck and shoulders, shining through my thin dress, as I kneel down on the hard stone and carefully pull up the weeds that have grown on the edges of the grave site, patting down the dry earth back into place afterwards so as to not leave an unsightly divot in the grass. Tucking the trash into the plastic grocery bag, I remove the newspaper from the bouquet of flowers and carefully arrange it in the flower holder. The pale purple hydrangeas and pure white chrysanthemums catch the noon-day sun like snow drops against the trees. It's almost painfully bright, like looking into the sun itself.

I can feel Hisao and Hideaki approach me a moment before Hisao's hand gently taps my shoulder: a bit of a chill as he passes between me and the sun, a bit of a stillness where he blocks the warm summer breeze blowing from the ocean. He has the bucket of water resting against the edge of the grave stone, and is picking up a ladle-full to pour over the stone, before I glare at him and snap my fingers hard in his face.

[Don't do that. It's not nice. Would you like it if I poured water over your head?] I sign annoyedly.

[That's the way my family's always done it.]

[It's not how we do it,] I retort. [Just let me take care of the cleaning. You can do the incense.]

My boyfriend nods and smiles at me before turning to say a couple of words to my brother. They busy themselves with the incense, picking out the old, burned bits left behind in the ash tray and arranging a new bundle of incense sticks in the holder, while I use a wet rag to carefully wipe down the cold granite. Truth be told, there isn't all that much to do. My father's already done most of the work: I'm mostly taking care of the bits and pieces that he left behind. I keep trying to tell him to wring out the washcloth more thoroughly, but he never seems to understand. . .

The sun is shining high in the sky as I finish my work and we step back from the grave. I use my cigarette lighter to light the incense bundle, causing the fragrant smoke to curl and rise into the air in a thin stream of white smoke.

". . . hello, Mother. I'm here again."

I try to ignore Hisao's surprised look. It's only the second time he's ever heard my voice, after all.

"It's been a long time. My first year in college has been hard but good. I'm in the top ten percent of my class, though. So the hard work has gotten results."

I put a hand on my boyfriend's elbow.

"This is Hisao Nakai, Mother. He's my fiancee. I am planning to marry him. I hope he's a good son-in-law for you. He's kind and intelligent, and although he can be a bit insensitive, he is never cruel or unkind. I hope you approve."

Taking a couple of steps back from the grave, pressing my hands together and bowing my head with my eyes closed. Feeling Hisao do the same. Opening my eyes to find Hideaki standing in front of the grave, saying something to my mother.

[What's he saying?] I ask Hisao.

[I can't hear him. He's whispering,] Hisao signs back to me. [I was surprised, though, when you talked.]

[It's one of the few places I feel comfortable speaking,] I explain. [After all, no one here will make fun of my voice.]

-----
Hideaki finishes his conversation with my mother and bows his head, clasping his hands as well in proper veneration. The three of us bow together to the gravestone, then, and Hisao picks up the bucket and ladle to return it to the temple.

My brother and I stand together, looking at the gravestone. He turns to me and, making sure that I can clearly see his lips, begins to speak.

"I think ----- would like Hisao."

"I hope so. Do you think she would have approved?"

I can't quite understand the first thing Hideaki says, but the rest of his words. . . "----- doesn't think so, but he ----- like anyone. Especially me."

Ah. There's only one person he could be talking about. "Father likes you just fine."

"----- you think. ----- just like him. I'm not." My little brother turns away from me and stares at the gravestone in sullen silence, the bright summer sun illuminating his gaudy clothes and ridiculous hat.

I don't think that I can argue with that point, so I just let the conversation drop. It's not long before Hisao returns to us, and we leave the temple and start walking back towards the house.

[. . . this place is beautiful,] Hisao signs to me, as we leave the temple grounds. [Very beautiful.]

[My father bought our summer home so we'd be close to this temple,] I explain. [He also bought the grave site. My mother's the first one buried here.]

[I see,] Hisao says. [I noticed his name on the side. And the date. And his name on the front.]

[He's never dated another woman since my mother died. Ten years. Never once. Sometimes I think if it weren't for the fact that he needs to take care of me and Hideaki, he would have followed my mother into the grave long ago. That's why he was so old-fashioned as to put his name in red above my mother's. As if anyone does that any more.]

[Would you do the same for me?]

I stop dead in my tracks and turn to face Hisao directly. His expression is serious, his eyes are haunted and dark.

[You know that. . .] He hesitates before his hands move into the next sign. [My heart condition. It's treatable, but I'm still more likely to die before you do. Would you. . . do what your father did? Write your name in red next to mine and wait to follow me into the grave?]

. . .

[. . . No.] My hands are shaking as I sign that to him, but I manage to calm myself down enough to sign the next thing. [I'll mourn you. But I won't hold myself down for you.]

[Good,] Hisao signs back to me. He smiles at me, as if relieved of a great burden. He takes his hands in mine and kisses my forehead gently.

I close my eyes and bow my head as I rest my head against his chest. Life is short. Time is precious.

Moments like these must be cherished.

-----
Walking back up to the house, I'm surprised to see my Father and Mister Nakai sitting on the front porch together. Several large and empty bottles of beer sit on the porch next to them, along with a couple of bowls of various snacks and sweets. My father is glaring intently at the board and then over at Hisao's father, carefully considering his next move on the shogi board. Glancing over at the board, I can see why. Hisao's father has established a fairly safe Anaguma Castle position on his side of the board, whereas my father's Mino Defense is vulnerable to a decent drop play. And given the number of pieces both sides have captured, the threat of a few good drops could easily break through their carefully arranged defenses.

[Damn,] I sign to Hisao. [I was hoping I'd have time to play a rematch against your Dad.]

[I'm sure he'll make time. He's been incredibly excited about having a chance to play some board games against people who actually like them,] Hisao admits.

[I don't think I'll ever figure out how someone who loves board games as much as your Dad ever raised a kid who's never even heard of Risk.]

Hisao's reply is interrupted by something. . . oh. His mother's come out and. . .

. . . and she's wearing my apron and wiping her hands on a dish towel. . .

. . . and she's got a tray of sliced fruit ready for all of us.

[Damn. You're supposed to be our guests,] I sign. [So why is your mom serving us? I shouldn't have left the house.]

[It's her way. Don't question it. I don't think being here would have helped. She would have just insisted you relax while she took care of you.]

. . . easy for you to say. You're not the one who's job it was to make sure our guests. . . you and your parents. . . had a good time. I didn't want your mom to spend your vacation time cutting up fruit and serving us.

Damn it. This is really shaping up to be the worst weekend ever.

[muffinseal]

yaaay great update

[TARDISman85]

That was a terrific update. I really liked how it addressed the elephant in the room that is Hisao's heart, which I feel isn't pointed out enough with some of these stories.

[Hoitash]

Shizune seems a bit hard on herself regarding the weekend.

Guess she really does need to get laid.

[AntonSlavik020]

Really good chapter. I also really liked how Hisao's heart is brought up, especially considering him and Shizune are going to get married, it's a legitimate thing for him to bring up. Great graveyard scene in general, really.

[griffon8]

Wonderful scene. Very moving.

Maybe this goes to the 'sorta-sequel' nature of this, but you've contradicted something from Weekend at Hisao's. In the post I've linked to, you mention Shizune's mom putting a stop to the speaking lessons, and that Shizune had 12 years of lessons. But apparently Shizune's mom died by the time Shizune was eight. It's been too long since I played Shizune's route, but doesn't the 12 years of lessons come from the VN? In which case, the only conflict is who put a stop to them.

[themocaw]

Wonderful scene. Very moving.

Maybe this goes to the 'sorta-sequel' nature of this, but you've contradicted something from Weekend at Hisao's. In the post I've linked to, you mention Shizune's mom putting a stop to the speaking lessons, and that Shizune had 12 years of lessons. But apparently Shizune's mom died by the time Shizune was eight. It's been too long since I played Shizune's route, but doesn't the 12 years of lessons come from the VN? In which case, the only conflict is who put a stop to them.

Fixed the discrepancy. And you get a No Prize.

[MasterOfRomance]

Wow, I've been gone for a while, sorry about that. I really liked the latest chapter though, very moving and to be honest the 8 and/or 12 year thing I didn't even notice until it was mentioned here. So don't worry about it!

That said, I do hope this story is being continued. Checking the dates it's been quite a while. Eager for more Shizune/Hisao-ness!

[hdkv]

I like this story where it stands.

There is almost no hope that it will be continued, but, given that we already know how it ends (because of Weekend at Hisao's epilogue), we can just enjoy this as series of one-shots from the old times.

Thank you!