“Certain?” A dry laugh escaped her lips. “I do not think I know what that word means anymore. Not since I opened a ramen restaurant’s door and walked into this pawnshop. I am not even sure if any of this is real or if all of this is just a strangedream. The only thing I do know is that I cannot carry around another regret. If this is real, then I am not here by chance. I was meant to meet you and make this trade.”
“Then it is done. The tea is yours. Enjoy it in good health.”
“What? Just like that?”
“Yes. Just like that. We keep things simple here. There is nothing left for you to do.” Toshio collected Izumi’s coins from the table.
“I do not feel any different.”
“The change will happen when you return to your world.”
“What if it does not work?”
“You did not purchase a radio or a clock, Takeda-sama. You made a simple exchange. There are no moving parts that will get stuck or fall apart.”
Izumi carefully tucked the box of tea into her bag. “Thank you.”
Toshio bowed with a smile.
Izumi walked to the door and closed her hand around its worn brass knob. She twisted it and pulled, opening the door by a crack. She paused and turned to face Toshio. “Ishikawa-san?”
“Yes?”
“I was so preoccupied thinking about getting rid of my choice that I never bothered to ask why you wanted it. Why doyou collect choices? Of what possible use could they be to you?”
Chapter Four
Sake and Silence
A hint of honeydew lingered over her tongue as Hana drained her third cup of sake. She held her alcohol better than most, a skill that her father took full credit for.
If her mother had been alive or if Toshio had any friends to go out drinking with, their nightly routine might have been different. Instead, Toshio seemed perfectly content to simply have Hana sit quietly across from him at the table, keeping him company while they drank sake until his eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. Their evenings were filled with more silent sips than conversation, but Hana still thought it was a fair exchange. Waiting made the night feel longer, and she was grateful for anything that kept the morning away.
But on the eve of her father’s retirement, not even the longest pauses or slowest sips did anything to lengthen the hour.
“Hana,” Toshio said, setting a wrapped box on the table. “This is for you.”
“For me?” Hana stared at the box. She recognized the wrapping cloth as one she had recently painted.
“A small token to celebrate the next chapter of your life.”
“Thank you, Otou-san.” Her father was a practical man, and so it did not surprise Hana that he had gifted her a box of tea from the stock meant for their clients. The memory it conjured of the treasure hunts of her childhood made up for anycreativity the gift lacked. Her father did not have to say anything for Hana to know his intent. His eyes, slightly misty with tears, said everything.
“Do you remember what I tell our clients about tea?”
“It tastes different for every person.”
“That rule applies to you too. You have known this tea all your life, but tomorrow, when you sip your first cup as the new owner of this pawnshop, you might be surprised at how many things will change, even if, on the surface, they look exactly the same. Do you think you are ready for it?”
“Tonight is not about me, Otou-san. It is your retirement that we are celebrating.”
“Endings and beginnings are the same point in time. Tonight is as significant to you as it is to me,” he said. “Perhaps even more. I can tell that you have a lot on your mind.”
Hana wrapped her fingers around the tea box, trying to find some comfort in the cool folds of its silk. “Did it…” Hana looked away, deciding to keep her thoughts to herself.
“Go on.”
“Did it make you happy?”
