WATER WOMEN

The family house in Fukuoka hadn’t changed much. Glazed tiles with ornate ends, aged wooden walls, thin sliding doors — features he was too familiar with. The garden, though, was slightly different. Some bonsai and a few potted plants he didn’t remember now lined the pond. Carefully tended by his mother, as always, he thought.

Another new addition welcomed Shoji when he entered the house — an air-conditioning unit. Finally. He’d been asking his mother to get one for a long time, but she’d always said no, telling him it was unnatural.

‘The fan is good enough,’ she said. ‘Air-conditioning makes your bones weak.’

He’d explained to her countless times that this was just a superstition, but she wouldn’t listen. She was stubborn, which made him wonder what had changed her mind.

‘I’m home,’ Shoji said aloud, taking his shoes off at the door.

‘Shoji, you’re already here? I didn’t expect you to take the first train.’

His mother’s warm voice and hurried footsteps greeted him. She appeared in a green kimono embroidered with tiny leaves, looking as elegant as ever. The fabric paired nicely with her gold obi and matching pastel-yellow obijime and obiage, though the combination looked too fancy for everyday wear.

‘Are you going out?’ he asked.

Her face lit up. ‘Since you’re back, we should head out and eat something special to celebrate. What do you think?’

Shoji chuckled. His mother was still the same as she’d always been. He stepped into the house, carrying his bag. ‘Can I use my old room?’

‘Of course. Don’t be silly. That room is always yours.’ She looked at the duffel bag and frowned slightly. ‘Is that your only luggage? How long are you planning to stay?’

‘Just for the weekend.’ He could see her smile fade. ‘I’ve got plenty of work waiting for me in the office.’

She sighed. ‘Can’t they give you a little more time off? I haven’t seen my only child in years.’

‘It’s the quality of time that matters, not the quantity,’ he teased her. Looking around, Shoji realised the housekeeper was unusually absent. ‘Where is Mrs Sakamoto?’

‘She wasn’t feeling well, so I asked her to rest.’

He nodded, and they walked to his room.

‘Mrs Sakamoto is getting old. I told her to return to her family, but she said she’d been away from them for too long, she feels more at home here. When she put it like that, I couldn’t ask her to leave.’

Shoji’s mother opened the sliding door to his room. He went in and put his bag down. The room was clean and fresh. Each time he came here, he marvelled at how the place always looked as if he’d never left Fukuoka. Nothing had changed, except …

‘You finally installed an air-conditioning unit,’ he said.