‘All my friends’ children are married. I only have one son, and he’s well into his thirties, but he refuses to settle down. What should I do? I don’t know any single ladies to introduce you to.’ She glanced at him. ‘But perhaps Tokyo women are different. Do they get married much later?’

There it came, the obligatory marriage conversation. ‘Some of them do.’

‘I’m not a grateful person, am I? You’ve got a good job, and you’re healthy. I should be content.’

He shouldn’t let her prolong this conversation. ‘I’m going to take a bath.’

She turned down the heat. ‘Don’t open the commemorative book yet. Let’s take a look at it together later.’

‘All right,’ he said and left.

•

Shoji put down his chopsticks and clasped his hands together. ‘Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.’

‘Have you finished?’ His mother looked disappointed. ‘There’s still so much left.’

He stood. ‘I can’t eat any more. It’s too much. Let me help you clear the table.’

‘Don’t bother. It’s faster if I do it alone,’ his mother said, stacking the dirty plates. Despite wearing a kimono, her movements were swift. ‘Why don’t you go to your room? But wait for a while before you lie down, or else you’ll turn into a cow. I’ll join you shortly. I want to see the photograph of my son on the podium.’

‘Don’t expect too much,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure if there will be any photographs of me. For all we know, it might just be my name appearing on one small line somewhere.’

Shoji’s mother gestured for him to leave. He went to his room and lay down on the futon, ignoring her superstitious warning, but only for a short while. She wouldn’t take long. True enough, in less than five minutes, there was a knock at the door.

‘Please come in,’ Shoji said.

His mother entered with a tray. She brought in red bean soup with mochi. That was so like her.

‘I’m too full,’ he protested. ‘I can’t eat anything else.’

She put down the tray. ‘Just wait for a while. You’ll get hungry soon.’

He doubted that.

‘I still remember the day you told me you got accepted into a university in Tokyo,’ his mother said. ‘At first, I thought you were going to be away for your studies and return here after graduation, but instead you moved to Akakawa.’

Shoji gave her a dry laugh.

‘When you said you’d left Akakawa, my hopes went up again. This time, I thought, my son would surely return home. But instead, you went back to Tokyo.’ She sighed. ‘I’m already old. I won’t be around for long. You should return to my side. Don’t tell me there are no jobs in Fukuoka.’