Wayside - 1920s Japan Dramedy

A spacious room with stark white walls and a rather noisy floor greeted Lucy as she gingerly slid open and closed the first door on the second floor. After a few steps into the sunlit room, Lucy knew it was bad–not the room, no. Although she didn't want to admit it per say, it was quite a welcoming space with its large window, providing a peaceful and quaint view of the neighborhood beyond.

What was bad was the sorry state of her face, or rather, any bit of skin that managed to acquaint itself with the hellspawn afternoon sun streaking into the room.

"Skin issues in a foreign country, on the first day." Her cheeks strained as her grin grew taut across her tingling face, index fingers cautiously pushing white indents into her reddened forearms. "Great."

Taking another step toward the center of the room, Lucy silently thanked a lone cloud swimming across the sky to eventually cloak the sun. She was about to kneel down and become familiar with the view until–

Squeak. Rustle. Rustle.

Lucy's shoulders tensed, head whipping every which way to pinpoint the origin of those cursed sounds.

What. Was. That.

"Oh, Lord above, please."

Of all things thrown her way today, a pest was something she would never be prepared for, not without a broom or shotgun.

She scanned the room as she tiptoed to each corner–there was no furniture, nothing whatsoever that a tiny creature could use as a hideaway. To make matters even worse and more confusing was that each little step Lucy took around the room on her hunt led to more and more squeaks.

"Oh, don't tell me." Lucy bounced on her heels for a few seconds before discovering the culprit–herself.

Why the hell does this floor sound like a family of squirrels?

Yuko had called it “tatami” when they first entered the house, and it was supposedly made of rice? If Lucy had caught that correctly, which, at this point in their exhausting day, she wasn't necessarily confident of.

At least it's edible if we can't afford any food.

This was not a particularly good day, and through Lucy's attitude it showed.

Between her uncle's countless exclamations of "Wow! What's that?" and "Hey! What does that sign say?" along with his pointer finger flying every which way as if he were an overly-stimulated child, Lucy wanted nothing more than to hide her face from the world now unknown to her and take a long, long, never-ending nap.

Was she grateful she had a roof over her head when she hadn't a cent to her name? Of course she was, and she was especially thankful she was able to live with her uncle's wonderful fiancé (whom he didn't deserve, in Lucy's humble opinion).

She just wished she could have Yuko to herself and dump her uncle back on the boat to California.

Wait, no no no.

With a furrowed brow she shook her head, finally plopping her knees down onto the soft tatami floor.

I should want to be back on that boat.

The yellow rays of sun poking past the cloud splashed onto Lucy's scrunched face.

What was coming over her? This was what happened in Chicago all over again–wallowing in existential dread on the miserable journey there and then falling into wobbly contentment once some semblance of stability rounded the corner into her shattered life.

Her hips shifted as she fussed with her skirt hem, picking at the loose brown threads dangling from the broken seam she had ravaged days before on their journey. She grinned to herself, remembering the way Yuko lunged her weight across her and her uncle's bed to grab at Lucy's skirt.

"Go pick out a boy to watch a picture with tonight instead of picking at your skirt! There were plenty of nice-looking ones playing cards outside, brush out your hair and go get their attention!"

It had always come easy to Yuko. Lucy's uncle had quite a bit of competition while they were in Chicago, and even though he had the guts to propose to her, Lucy was skeptical if he was confident (and competent) enough to play the role of a husband.

He better be, or this would have all been for nothing.

A noisy rapping pounding from the other side of the door coaxed Lucy out of her nostalgia and back onto her feet.

「Lu-chan!」

"Ah." Lucy scurried towards the door as a shaky hand brushed over her tousled hair. 「Yes. One moment, sorry.」

A quick slide of the door revealed Yuko with a beaming smile.

「You and I need some ladies' time after today.」 Lucy could feel their cheeks sticking together in the humid room as Yuko wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

「That would truly be quite nice.」 Sliding the door close behind them, Lucy broke from the embrace while her uncle's frustrated cursing seeped through the floorboards. 「It would be even nicer if it could be an entire day, maybe a week, a year.」 She rolled her eyes as she bounced a finger in the air, one for each fantasy.

"A day maybe, but we both know he wouldn't last any longer by himself." Yuko's smile widened as she passed Lucy for the sunny window, shooting a wink over her shoulder. "Do you like this room?"

"Oh." Lucy followed Yuko back over to the window, now taking notice of a rather uncomfortably large cobweb splayed in one of the upper corners. "Yes, it's really nice. Nice view and all." She tore her gaze away from the spindly web, remembering what her late brother would always preach to her back home.

There's nothing much they could do to hurt you, ya know! How'd you feel if I squashed you?

「Mhm! This can be your room, then!」 Yuko exclaimed with a light tap on the streaked window glass. Her smile switched from warm to pleased, as if her declaration was the first new household decree.

「Wh-Huh? I thought–」 Lucy's neck tensed as she shook her head, mind jumping from her brother and back into the present. 「Of course, thank you, but I guess I'm just not used to having...」 Lucy searched for the correct word to describe her whirlwind of emotions, arms jutting in front of her as she lightly waved her hands in the air.

"Privacy? Space?"

"Yeah, that. Those."

What did people do with privacy? Without a noisy seven-year old sticking his nose into everything you owned while sitting on your side of the room with muddy shoes? Without a foghorn-turned-uncle snoring six feet away from you through the entire damn night? That was a reality for people?

"Don't worry Lucy, I'll take your uncle from here! No more family sleepovers, sorry!" Yuko laughed with an arm once again around Lucy's shoulder. "You don't mind me stealing him away, right?"

"I'm going to die of loneliness, I'm sure of it." With a hand grasping at her chest, Lucy rolled her weight into Yuko's frame, the older woman now struggling to hold in her laughter along with Lucy's dead weight.

「You need to live, someone has to clean the bathroom!」

「Are you sure you're not trying to kill me? I see a light!」

「Liar, we're not facing the window anymore!」

Both women stumbled to the door, Lucy reluctantly flinging herself upright off of Yuko as more clangs and frustrated groans echoed from downstairs.

"Is that our cue?"

"A woman's work is never done." Yuko mumbled as she led Lucy out to the hall and down the stairway. At the very least, she had a total of five minutes of relaxation. "You'll learn that as you get older."

"Uh huh." Lucy bit her lip, glancing to the side with her smile reaching up to her ears.

"Will I also learn how to style my hair as elegantly as yours? I never knew ladies of your caliber used sweat of all things as a hair curler."

As Yuko leered back at Lucy, yet again a giggling mess, she had half a mind to yank Lucy's own curls and tumble the both of them down the stairs.

"Oh Lucy, how nice of you to notice! Maybe your hair will achieve my level of elegance while you fix up the hot and humid bathroom. You’ll thank me later."

"You really are trying to kill me, aren't you?"