Chapter 70: The Oyama Family Home In Kumamoto, Still Yearning
Kumamoto Prefecture, Oyama Family Home.
On the third day back from Tokyo, that clamor and prosperity belonging to the big city was finally thoroughly washed away in the daily life of this tranquil small town, leaving only some fragmented memories like seashells left on the beach after the tide recedes, flickering with distant and alluring light inadvertently.
That was the prosperity of Tokyo Metropolis.
Yoshiharu Oyama held a steaming cup of green tea, sitting cross-legged in front of the low table in the living room, watching the local news broadcast on the television, yet always feeling that this familiar taste seemed to be missing something.
Missing a bit of… the stimulation that makes one’s heart race.
He took a sip of tea, and on that always stern face, a trace of melancholy appeared for the first time that even he himself had not noticed.
“Sigh…”
A sigh carrying a bit of laziness and dissatisfaction came from behind the paper sliding door of the adjacent Japanese-style room.
The youngest daughter Mogae Nohara rubbed her messy hair, wearing pink pajamas, yawning as she walked out, her youthful little face full of boredom.
She flopped down on the tatami like a boneless salted fish, complaining feebly: “So boring… Compared to Tokyo, our Kumamoto is simply the countryside! There’s not even a decent department store, the train comes only once every half hour, and after eight at night, the streets are like a ghost town.”
But before she could finish, Yoshiharu Oyama’s ‘local pride’ nerve was fiercely provoked.
“Nonsense!”
Yoshiharu Oyama slammed the tea cup heavily on the table, making a dull thud, and his sharp eyes unique to a dean of students pierced like two unsheathed daggers toward the ignorant girl.
“No matter how bad Kumamoto is, it’s our hometown! Here are our family, our roots!”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority: “No matter how good Tokyo is, it’s someone else’s place! We are people from Kumamoto Prefecture, even if we stay in Tokyo for a lifetime, we can’t become real Tokyo people!”
“Then I’ll just marry a Tokyo person, problem solved?”
Mogae Nohara pouted defiantly, poking at her old man’s most vulnerable weak spot with a naive cruelty: “Just like Second Sis, find a boyfriend like Hiroshi brother-in-law, and then I can have everything?”
“You—!”
Yoshiharu Oyama was so provoked by this that his blood surged, his stern face instantly turning pig-liver colored.
His finger pointing at Mogae Nohara trembled slightly with anger, yet for the moment, he couldn’t find the right words to retort.
Thinking of his prospective son-in-law Hiroshi Nohara’s successful status and position.
And the luxury car and income that even he envied.
He really had no way to refute!
“You’re not a child anymore! Otherwise, I really would hit you!” This only made Yoshiharu Oyama’s annoyed head smoke even more.
But for this smallest and most beloved youngest daughter, he was truly at a loss.
“Alright, alright, what are you arguing about first thing in the morning.”
At that moment, the kitchen door curtain was lifted, and mother Takao Oyama came out carrying a wooden tray, her face that always carried a gentle smile now showing a bit of helplessness.
On the tray were several bowls of still-steaming rice, and a plate of freshly pan-fried tamagoyaki emitting the aroma of soy sauce.
Very simple and very homey.
“Mogae, don’t talk back to your dad.”
Eldest sister Masae also came out carrying a plate of pickled dried small fish and a bowl of chopped soy sauce green onions, placing the side dishes one by one before saying to her younger sister in her characteristic gentle tone: “Besides, Hiroshi-kun isn’t from Tokyo either, he’s from Akita Prefecture. You, don’t always aim too high, be down-to-earth.”
“Eh? Brother-in-law isn’t from Tokyo?” Mogae Nohara’s big black eyes were filled with pure shock for the first time.
In her simple worldview, someone who works at Tokyo Television Station, can afford that kind of luxury car, and can casually buy so many designer bags, naturally had to be a ‘noble’ born and raised in Tokyo.
“Hmph, do you think Tokyo household registration is that easy to get?”
Yoshiharu Oyama finally found a chance to save face, he cleared his throat, assuming the erudite demeanor of a dean of students, and said gravely: “Our neon country’s household registration system is managed very strictly. To migrate from the provinces to Tokyo, you need to meet a series of harsh conditions, like having a stable, high-income job in Tokyo, a fixed residence, and a recommendation from a company or guarantor… the procedures are cumbersome, the review strict, harder than getting into University of Tokyo!”
As he spoke, he subconsciously touched his chin, a flicker of doubt in his sharp eyes.
Because the more he said, the more he realized his prospective son-in-law met these conditions.
“Of course, there are always exceptions. If you have enough money, or enough fame, have made outstanding contributions to society… that’s another story… um, for example, Hiroshi.”
These words clearly placed that future son-in-law, who though not from Tokyo was more like a ‘Celestial Dragon’ than any Tokyo person, into this exceptional category.
“Pfft.” Mogae Nohara immediately let out a light laugh: “What! Dad! In the end, it’s still about brother-in-law?”
This immediately made Yoshiharu Oyama feel his authority damaged.
But he couldn’t say anything.
He just urged: “Hurry up and eat!” as he put on his stern face again.
The family gathered around the low table and began to enjoy this simple yet warm lunch.
But the home-cooked food that was usually flavored with mom’s taste felt a bit bland in the mouth today.
“Sigh, I still miss the gourmet meals in Tokyo so much…”
Mogae Nohara poked at the rice in her bowl, her little face full of reminiscence: “That French escargot, that melt-in-your-mouth Saga Wagyu Beef, and that lobster sashimi bigger than my face… Hiroshi brother-in-law really knows how to pick places, every meal was so delicious I wanted to swallow my tongue!”
Her words were like a lit fuse, instantly igniting everyone’s taste bud memories.
Even the always stern-faced Yoshiharu Oyama, upon hearing ‘Saga Wagyu Beef’, couldn’t help his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Ding ling ling—”
Amid this collective reminiscence of gourmet food, the telephone in the living room rang abruptly.
“I’ll get it!” The nearest Mogae Nohara bounced over like a rabbit.
“Hello? Is that Misae sis?”
“Yes, Mogae, it’s me. Can you pass the phone to mom?” From the other end came Misae’s voice with a bit of laughter.
“Mom, it’s Second Sis!” Mogae Nohara immediately handed the receiver to her mother.
“Hello, Misae.” Takao Oyama took the phone, her voice full of affection: “We’re home, all good, don’t worry. In Tokyo, take good care of yourself, and take good care of Hiroshi-kun, okay?”
“I know, mom.” Misae replied with a smile.
As the mother and daughter exchanged heartfelt words, Mogae Nohara crowded to the receiver like a little sparrow, clamoring to say: “Second Sis, Second Sis! I don’t want to stay in Kumamoto! It’s so boring here! I want to go to Tokyo! I want to live with you!”
Misae on the other end was amused by her sister and giggled: “Okay, after you graduate high school, you’re welcome anytime. Then, I’ll have your brother-in-law introduce you to some handsome men from Tokyo!”
“No fooling around!”
Yoshiharu Oyama’s authoritative voice boomed like thunder: “Finish your studies first! All you think about is this nonsense!”
The family was amused by his exasperated appearance and burst into laughter, even Misae on the phone laughed until she was out of breath.
“Right, Second Sis.” After the laughter, Mogae Nohara remembered that puzzling question: “Brother-in-law is so awesome, how can he not be from Tokyo? I don’t believe it!”
“Hm? Tokyo household registration? He is now.”
Misae’s voice on the phone carried an irrepressible pride and smugness.
“Just yesterday, I heard Hiroshi-kun say he sold the copyright of An Shizhi to the television station, and they rewarded him not only with a ten million yen bonus, but also an apartment in Setagaya Ward, and conveniently solved the Tokyo household registration issue too!”
“…”
If the previous five million luxury car had only cracked their hearts.
Then this statement was like a meteorite falling from the sky, with unmatched impact, thoroughly shattering their worldview built on tradition and reality!
Ten million yen!
Apartment in Setagaya Ward!
And that thing harder than getting into University of Tokyo… Tokyo household registration!
“Wha… what?!”
Yoshiharu Oyama’s hand holding the tea cup shook violently, spilling scalding tea on his hand, yet he was oblivious.
On that always stern, rock-hard face, there was now only undisguised shock and stupor.
He thought of himself.
Having been a dean of students in Kumamoto Prefecture for a lifetime, diligent and incorruptible, in the end, just guarding an old house that needed thirty years of loan payments.
And that young person…
He looked at the familiar, somewhat stifling sky outside the window, and for the first time, felt a trace of doubt about his entire life.
“Dad? Dad? What’s wrong?” Misae on the phone heard the commotion and asked worriedly.
“No… nothing…” Yoshiharu Oyama snapped out of it and set down the tea cup, his shocked face unknowingly showing a trace of pride he himself hadn’t noticed.
He cleared his throat and said into the receiver in the concerned tone unique to an elder, with a bit of dignity: “Misae, that… since Hiroshi-kun is now a Tokyo person too, you two… should be careful with your health, don’t get pregnant first, after all… your eldest sister hasn’t…”
Before he finished, he was interrupted by two distinctly different screams.
“Dad! What are you saying!” Eldest sister Masae’s gentle face instantly turned red like a branding iron, both shy and angry.
“Ah! Dad, you’re too much! Saying this in front of an underage high schooler like me!” Little sister Mogae Nohara exaggeratedly covered her ears, but her big black eyes sparkled with excitement at the drama.
“You old man! What nonsense!” Mother Takao Oyama reacted and grabbed a cushion from the table, throwing it at her husband.
“I… I’m just concerned about you!”
Yoshiharu Oyama was flustered by this sudden group attack, his old face reddening as he dodged his wife’s assaults, looking at his daughters’ shy and annoyed expressions, feeling his dean of students career had hit an unprecedented low at this moment.
He finished the last bite of rice in his bowl, slammed down the bowl and chopsticks, said “I’m going out for a walk,” and nearly fled out the door.
But as he walked down that familiar path, his embarrassed face involuntarily broke into an irrepressible, sly old fox-like smug smile.
He pulled out his old flip phone, deftly opened the contacts, and found the number of the vice principal who always bragged about his son thriving in Tokyo.
He cleared his throat and pressed the call button.
“Hello? Vice Principal Yamamoto? Hahaha, it’s me, Yoshiharu Oyama. Nothing much, just wanted to chat. Oh yeah, I just got back from Tokyo. My no-good son-in-law, nothing impressive, just bought a place in Setagaya, oh wait, not bought, Tokyo Television Station gave it to him. And conveniently migrated the household registration. Tokyo people, such a hassle…”
That loud voice, full of Versailles-style boasting, echoed like a victory anthem in the quiet alleys of Kumamoto Prefecture.
He knew, tonight’s izakaya drinks were on him.
And.
Definitely the most expensive ‘Juyondai’!
