After Shoji’s father had retired, he had taken an interest in pottery, probably because of his fascination with Nobunaga Oda. A large painting of the famed warlord hung in his workshop. According to legend, Nobunaga had been a collector of pottery. Then again, his father could have taken it up for any other reason. Perhaps he was bored. Who knew? The strange thing was, he only ever made teacups.

Shoji wondered what would happen to his father’s large collection when he passed away. His father never sold or gave his teacups to anyone. Shoji knew nothing about pottery, so he couldn’t tell whether they were good. Regardless, his father was calmer when he was inside that room with his cups.

Shoji went into the kitchen. His mother’s murmuring voice blended with the fragrance of miso. She had a habit of talking to herself when she was cooking.

‘Excuse me,’ he said in a soft voice, not wanting to startle her.

She turned around, holding a ladle. Looking at the huge pot in front of her, Shoji had no doubt she was planning a feast. Even though he always told her not to cook too much, she always did. Perhaps he shouldn’t bother saying anything this time.

Shoji lifted the paper bag. ‘I found this in my room.’

Her face beamed. ‘Ah, I forgot to tell you. A few weeks ago, a girl called from Waseda. She said she was from the swimming club.’

He vaguely recalled the brief period he’d been a member.

‘The club is celebrating its anniversary,’ his mother continued. ‘They printed commemorative books and gave them out to those featured. She said you represented the university in a competition. Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘It was a small competition.’ Shoji had won a bronze medal in an inter-university men’s relay race, but his interest had soon dwindled as college work started piling up.

‘Did you get a medal?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’ Though he’d accidentally left it in the old apartment he’d shared with Jin. ‘But really, it wasn’t a big deal.’

His mother sighed. ‘I wonder what other things I have missed. I don’t even know your girlfriend.’

Shoji waved her off. ‘That’s because I haven’t got one.’

‘At your age?’ She made a serious face. ‘Do you think your mother will believe that?’

‘That’s the truth,’ he said, forcing a laugh. ‘I won’t disturb you. Try not to cook too much. There are only a few of us here.’

Shoji’s mother turned to face the stove. ‘When you told me you were coming after so long, I thought you were going to bring a woman.’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you.’ The truth was, he’d felt guilty after Eri had chided him for never visiting.