Wayside - 1920s Japan Dramedy

Kazuma concluded he must have had a death wish. Perhaps he had come down with a late onset of hay fever this summer and it somehow had gone past his sinus and into his brain. He had rehearsed at least twenty times that morning before heading out exactly what to say to Mieko’s father in case he crossed his path and how to “make his delivery convincing” as she had called it.

“We’re just going to a cafe to review her English notes, sir.”

Had she said a cafe? Maybe it was actually for some sort of test?

God, her schemes became more outlandish and convoluted with each passing year, and on top of it all he had missed three of them. Sometimes the girl’s chattering flew over him like a buzzing fly, persistent but often disregarded.

Oh, how he longed for the days when the worst she concocted were fibs about finishing her homework on time or if she ate her tofu instead of throwing it to the housecat under the table.

Bringing his index finger and thumb up to rub at his temple, he momentarily questioned whether or not this charade had been a lapse in judgment on his part. Should her father ever find out about this little escapade, it’d be his neck and then some at the expense of some Americans he didn’t even know.

His breath hitched at the thought.

I’m getting too old for this.

He really wasn’t, though. Thirty-two was hardly an old curmudgeon, but whenever the plans involved Mieko he sure as hell felt like one.

He sighed to himself as he fiddled with his tie and threw on his suit jacket. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror, he headed towards the front room and reached for his hat on the wooden coat rack near the door.

Maybe this was all a prank Mieko orchestrated to cure her own boredom?

He wouldn’t put it past her, what with the smothering she endured at home.

“Not wise to put me at the center of it.” He mumbled to himself as he propped the black felt hat atop his slicked hair.

The last thing he wanted was to be at the center of Mieko’s schemes and put even more strain than there already was on her family, but she knew his weaknesses and vices as if she were the devil himself. He laughed as he reached down to put on his newly polished shoes. A sense of pride rushed to his chest knowing it was because of his coaching that she was able to hone her skills in the art of persuasion.

Hell, she was so good at it she managed to take down her own teacher.

One mention of a nice-looking girl in need of his assistance and he was hooked.

Tapping his feet on the stone floor, he sighed and leaned on the wall behind him, careful not to put any wrinkles in his clothes.

This girl had better be worth the trouble.

He swooped his head towards the door. “Off to work, I suppose.” He sang to himself as he slid it open.

Even if it turned out to be a failure, he was certain this would be one for the books.