Chapter 10

From a young age, I've had a rather unusual habit: the first thing I do when I enter a house is always to go to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. Why do I say unusual? Because I later discovered that many people do the same, so it doesn't seem strange. Whether I'm going back to my family's ramen shop, visiting my master's house, or even just a few times when I've been to Yagyu's house, I naturally stand in the living room and look around to see where his kitchen is, but let's not go into that.

Well, sometimes I can't say I don't resent the rich.

The heating in the room was on full blast, the heat warming my face. I put my coat on the sofa and turned to walk towards the refrigerator. Looking at the spotless, almost reflective marble countertop, I knew without a doubt that Tezuka rarely cooked for himself, so I had already accepted the fact that the refrigerator was probably empty.

I reached out and opened it, then stopped. This was a bit unexpected. The ingredients were neatly arranged inside, packed full. I checked the price tags and saw that they were all bought today.

"That's rare," I turned to him and asked, "Were you originally planning to cook for Christmas?"

Tezuka blinked twice at me, then looked away and shook his head.

"Okay, I understand," I sighed. "What do you want to eat tonight? Whatever you like?"

"Whatever you say," he replied, "I'll help you carry the suitcase into the room."

"That'll be about an hour," I glanced at the timer on the oven, "or it should be ready to eat in forty-five minutes."

The bed sheets in the room had been replaced with new ones. As Tezuka Kunimitsu hung up his coat and turned off the light, he felt a strange unease. Watching the man deftly chop vegetables with his sleeves rolled up, a thought flashed through his mind: for the first time, he wished that tomorrow would come slowly.

People who see our way of getting along would probably think that someone like Tezuka Kunimitsu would never let a friend who has just taken a long flight start preparing dinner as soon as he arrives at his house. Unfortunately, they obviously didn't consider that I've known this guy for ten years. Just like at the airport, he offered me his scarf because I'm not a stranger, not because I'm anything to him. Besides, most of the time I believe we're family.

My master was less of a master and more of a substitute for my maternal grandfather, who didn't leave a deep impression on me.

Therefore, it became quite normal for Tezuka to trust me and even occasionally rely on me; it's just that no one would believe it if I told them.

The main reason I rushed to Munich right after graduating in March was to have surgery. Tezuka's elbow should have been operated on last year, but he barely managed to hold on for the National Tournament. When he came back from Kyushu for a follow-up appointment, I was worried and accompanied him to see Dr. Harasawa again, and that's how the surgery was decided.

"Guoguang," I asked as we walked out of the hospital, "you didn't have to tell me, so why didn't you choose to keep it from me like you kept it from everyone else?"

"You'll figure it out eventually," Tezuka hesitated for a moment, "Besides, you won't stop me from doing anything."

"But I can't offer you any help either." I smiled.

"It's enough that you're here," he said.

I made a couple of simple dishes, and the rice in the rice cooker was just right. I don't know if he needs to control his carbohydrate intake, but since it's a holiday, a little indulgence is fine. He changed into comfortable loungewear and sat down at the dining table. His blue-gray turtleneck sweater looked fluffy and warm. We've known each other for a long time, but we don't often have the chance to eat alone together; it's always with the whole family. So, I rarely get to observe him so naturally from the front, rather than from the side or his back.

To be frank, I really like his eyes.

He picked up the salted plum from the rice, looked up and saw me staring intently at him. He put down his chopsticks and asked, "Is there something on my face?"

"No," I said, resting my chin on my hand and shaking my head slightly, "I just think your eyes are quite beautiful."

He turned his gaze away and silently put the dried plum he had just picked up with rice into his mouth, but I heard him sigh. He definitely sighed.

"How is Grandma?" he suddenly asked after a moment of silence.

It can be a bit awkward for two people to eat without talking. I poured half a glass of sparkling water into my glass, took a sip, and pointed to the jar of plums behind me, saying, "She still remembers that her beloved Xiaoguang likes to eat dried plums. She just sometimes forgets my name, but she can remember it if you remind her a little."

Tezuka, who was no longer used to being called "Hikaru," was probably starting to regret bringing up this topic to pass the time during dinner. I saw him lower his head, eat a couple of mouthfuls of rice, and then, imitating his grandmother's soft Kyoto accent, ask, "Has our Hikaru made any new friends here?"

As a native of Kanagawa Prefecture, my words were naturally incoherent, but Tezuka's eyes showed a hint of wanting to laugh but not actually laughing. He wasn't actually that sensitive to laughter, he just didn't like to smile.

"I'll take you to see her tomorrow." He nodded.

"Her?" I put down my chopsticks, stretched out my arm and patted his head. "Xiao Guang has grown up. I feel so relieved."

He straightened his hair, which I had ruffled, frowned slightly, and adjusted his glasses: "I'm older than you."

"Only six months." I laughed and popped a piece of broccoli into my mouth.

Because I hadn't rested on the plane, after finishing my meal, I sat on the sofa, flipped through a couple of pages of the book on the coffee table, and then collapsed to the side. Tezuka was washing the dishes, and by the time he finished cleaning the kitchen, I was fast asleep. He wiped his hands with a hint of exasperation, and Tezuka patted my shoulder, but I just rolled over and didn't react at all. Taking off his slippers, he bent down and picked me up.

"You're the one who hasn't grown up yet." Tezuka childishly and belatedly replied to what I said during dinner, and patted my head in retaliation before covering me with the blanket and closing the door.

The thought of having another person living in the empty apartment made Tezuka, unusually, suffer from insomnia.

I usually sleep on tatami mats, so switching to a Simmons mattress felt a bit strange. I opened my eyes at 1:30 AM, having slept for about five hours. I glanced down at my clothes, then peeked out the curtains. The snow was still falling. I got up, grabbed a change of clothes, and quietly opened the door. The TV was on in the darkened living room. Tezuka, resting his chin on his hand and leaning against a cushion, noticed me. He picked up the remote, paused the video, and asked, "Are you awake already?"

"Aren't you asleep yet?" I put the clothes I was holding on the side table, walked over, leaned on the back of the sofa, and looked at the TV. The scene that just happened to be frozen on was Andrei walking towards Natasha at the ball. "This version of the war isn't seven hours long, and I've never been able to finish watching it properly. But I haven't finished reading the book either." [1]

"I thought I'd fall asleep watching it, so I turned it on." Tezuka moved slightly to the side and pressed play.

"Okay then," I straightened up, "I'm going to take a shower and go back to sleep. Goodnight."

A little while later, Tezuka heard the sound of running water in the bathroom, so he turned off the TV and went back to his room. Of course, he remembered that I had never finished watching this movie, because the only two times I watched War and Peace were with him. The first time was when the three of us—him, my grandmother, and I—were in the living room. He watched it with great interest, and my grandmother even wiped away tears several times. Only I fell asleep. The second time was when we went to his house for the New Year. The adults were having a blast downstairs, and I found him hiding in his room. So I watched it with him again, but this time I still fell asleep, and I fell asleep on his bed.

Ultimately, I don't know why Tezuka suddenly remembered this movie. I guess it was because of how quickly I fall asleep that I believed it could help me sleep.

The snow stopped and the sky cleared up early the next morning. I knelt on the bay window and opened it. Looking out from the seventeenth floor, I could see a bright sky. I pulled out a sweater that was even thicker than yesterday's and temporarily took over Tezuka's cashmere scarf. Wearing a white down jacket, I looked like a big fat man in the mirror. People always say that young people care about style over warmth, so let me be an old man.

Besides, I'm going to see my childhood sweetheart's dear "her" today, so what I wear doesn't matter at all.

Could it be a German girl, or a girl from another country he met in language class? I really imagined countless possibilities in my mind. I was so curious. Now, I wouldn't be surprised if you told me that Yagyu and Niou came out together on Christmas Eve, but that was Tezuka Kunimitsu.

He appeared no different from usual and didn't seem to care about my guesses. If I hadn't been walking and couldn't see his expression clearly, I would have definitely noticed the hidden smugness in his eyes, like he had succeeded in his scheme.

"So..." I frowned as I saw a large Alaskan Malamute, about my height, run over and snuggle into Tezuka's arms. "Is this your girlfriend?"

He nodded, then got up and chatted with the dog's owner for a bit. The man leading the dog was a kind-looking middle-aged man. Tezuka whispered to me that this was Professor Hefel, who taught literature at the University of Munich. When they met, Kona was still a puppy, the large dog wagging its tail like this. She had gotten lost and was shivering in the cold rain outside the hospital. Tezuka happened to be there for a check-up and that's how he met Kona.

I finally understood the sentence introducing me. I smiled and shook hands with the professor. As I instinctively bowed, Tezuka pulled me back. Japanese people can't shake this habit.

"I'll come pick her up later." Herfee handed the leash and the bag containing dog food and toys to Tezuka.

"Don't worry." After Tezuka finished speaking, Heffield smiled and waved to him, beckoning him to come closer.

"She's lovely." Herfel patted Tezuka on the shoulder and opened the car door beside him. "I hope you have a great time in Munich."

"Thank you, I definitely will." I replied in broken German, and after watching the professor's car drive a few meters away, I looked up and glanced at Tezuka again.

"What's wrong?" The professor's words had made him avoid my gaze and lower his head to rub Cona's head, but he felt a little awkward being stared at by me, so he had no choice but to ask.

"I don't think this story sounds very Tezuka Kunimitsu-like at all," I said, pulling out a plush toy from my bag and bending down to tease Kona. "First of all, you and Alaska are really not a good match."

"Let's go, Kona." He tugged on the rope, ignoring my teasing.

Walking behind, I took out my phone and snapped a picture of Tezuka carrying a canvas bag and walking his dog. My master probably wasn't too keen on seeing Tezuka like this, but Ayana would probably still like it.

The professor was going to Liverpool to see his daughter and wouldn't be back until the second day of the new year, so he temporarily entrusted Kona to Tezuka. Since large dogs weren't allowed in the apartment, we went back to pack our luggage and groceries, and then met up with Tezuka's coach, Bass, downstairs. That was the part of the plan I knew, because we had originally agreed that the two families would spend Christmas together.

Kona sat in the passenger seat, while Tezuka, Bass's youngest son Dean, who had just started elementary school, and I were in the back. Bass's ex-wife was Japanese, so the father and son could communicate in Japanese. Thank goodness I no longer had to listen to German in a completely incomprehensible way.

As the car drove closer to the forest, the surroundings became increasingly quiet. I suddenly realized that this might be the first time I wouldn't be spending New Year's Eve with my parents, nor would I be able to go to the shrine for Hatsumode early on January 1st, eat the New Year's dishes my father makes, or watch the Kohaku Uta Gassen with my grandmother. It seems that people only start to miss home after they leave it.

The house, which had been cleaned in advance, was spotless. As soon as Bass entered, he lit the firewood in the fireplace, and it soon became warm. While I was still immersed in the sudden wave of homesickness, Tezuka pulled a large gold star ornament from a box and handed it to me: "This is for you."

I glanced at the bare Christmas tree in the living room, smiled and nodded; after all, Tezuka was family.

"Xiao Guang is so nice!" I said.

He frowned, and was about to say something when Dean called out to Guoguang and pulled him to a room upstairs.

Note: 1. War and Peace (1966), adapted from Leo Tolstoy's novel of the same name, was directed by Sergei Bondarchuk, a director from the former Soviet Union, and has a running time of 427 minutes.