Ozoni and Onsens

by S. J. Pajonas

  “I’m not angry with you,” I said between slurps. I covered my mouth behind my hand to hide my chomping teeth. “You’re the person who has treated me the nicest today. Well, you’re the person who’s treated me the nicest the past couple of months.”

  Yasahiro had nothing to say to that. His lips twisted, but he kept on eating.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me about my New Year’s resolutions?” I said with a smile, nudging him under the table with my foot.

  He laughed again, and it was nice to hear. Laughter had been very absent from my day. “So, Mei-chan, do you have any New Year’s resolutions?”

  “I’m so glad you asked me this important question. You’re going to laugh… But I want to learn to cook a few things this year.”

  He set his chopsticks down and folded his hands. “I’m not going to laugh. This is somewhat shocking. What’s gotten into you?”

  My face heated, so I covered it up by eating more noodles. “Nothing’s gotten into me. I just think I should learn to deal with cooking food. What if you travel again and I’m on my own? What if something like today happens again, and I can’t help in the kitchen?”

  “But you hate the kitchen,” he said, a note of bewilderment in his voice.

  “I don’t hate the kitchen. I’m…” I remembered the time I was a teen, set fire to a wooden spoon, and then passed out.

  “Terrified of the stove. And for good reason too. I’ve seen you in the kitchen. Your face whitens, you sweat, and your hands shake. You can boil water and make pasta but that’s about it. Why would you want to do that to yourself?”

  He’s right, of course. Working in the kitchen is like torture, but…

  “If I had skills to help out, maybe I wouldn’t be so useless. You should’ve seen me today. I did everything in my power to help that woman. If I can’t win her over, then how do I open a tea shop for the elderly and do well? I should concentrate on practical skills.”

  And there was the heart of the matter. Nahoko had crushed my confidence. She had shown me that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t get anywhere just by being polite and kind. I needed real skills. If I had helped out in the kitchen instead of going to help her, everyone would have been happier.

  Yasahiro groaned and rubbed his face. “Mei-chan, you have exceptional skills with the elderly. They practically flock to you. You’re a good organizer and helper, and you help them live their lives. You’re a people person through and through. Hiromi’s mother? She missed out on a splendid day with you because she couldn’t see past her own issues. That has nothing to do with you and everything to do with her. You’ll open the best damned tea shop in town, the best in the prefecture. A place where people will feel welcome. A safe place. Don’t falter now because of one bad experience. If I had given up when I got dressed down by a three-Michelin starred chef in front of the entire kitchen, I would never have opened Sawayaka. These things are meant to strengthen you, not pull you down.”

  I blinked, bulldozed over by his statements. I had never looked at my life that way, but I guessed he was right. The burns I experienced as a kid made me stronger. Getting fired several times had made me stronger. Going without food and heat had made me stronger. This would strengthen me too.

  “You really think being a people person is a skill?”

  “It’s a gift. Few have that.” He lifted his bowl and drank the soup, smacking his lips and sighing afterward. It was good soup.

  “A gift,” I whispered. Something I used for helping the elderly and for solving murders too, it seemed.

  “But I have an idea,” he said, raising one side of his lips. “If you want to learn some skills in the kitchen, I’ll teach you prep work.”

  “Oh yes! Mom said I should learn knife skills.”

  He stood up from the table and buttoned up his coat. I followed, my soup already gone from the bowl.

  “Your mom is right, naturally. Let’s go home and tomorrow morning, we’ll surprise everyone with something delicious to eat.”

  He slung his arm over my shoulder and kissed my temple as we made our way back out to the car.

  Chapter Twelve

  Back in Chikata, the local businesses were abuzz with parties and people spilling out of local izakayas, including our favorite, Izakaya Jūshi. Despite Etsuko’s murder not too long ago, the whole neighborhood showed up to support her family for the holiday. The place was packed and white lights twinkled around the windows.

  “Look,” I said, pointing out the window. “They have a countdown. Only two more hours till the new year.”

  Yasahiro pulled into his parking spot and turned off the car. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” he said, clapping his hands together and exiting the car. I followed him out and bundled up against the cold winter wind. “We’re going to get upstairs and then I will enact the new New Year’s Eve plan.”

  This sounded intriguing, and I smiled, wondering what he had been thinking about all the way home. We had driven in silence, listening to music, and consulting the map when traffic got too heavy. Thank goodness the roads were clear, and we drove home quicker than we had to Hakone in the morning.

  I couldn’t believe everything that had happened in one day. We’d started the trip so positively, ready for rest and relaxation, and we were beaten down as the day went on. I was glad to be home, even if it meant there would be no vacation for me.

  I didn’t need a vacation, it turned out. I needed peace.

  I followed Yasahiro as he carried our bags up the stairs and opened his apartment.

  The inside was chilly and dark as we entered, but with the flick of a few switches, the Christmas tree came to life, the lights illuminated, and the heat switched on. It would be homey and warm in no time.

  “We could go to Izakaya Jūshi and celebrate with everyone there,” I suggested, pulling off my boots. I hung my coat in its usual spot and wheeled my bag off to the side. I’d deal with unpacking later. There was something too depressing about packing a bag for a three-day trip and only using it for a few hours.

  “No no no. I’ve had two hours on the road to think of new plans and we will make them happen. Why don’t you get cleaned up in the bathroom and slip into something more comfortable? Then you can come join me at the table.”

  The twinkle in his eye told me he planned to make the night count, and I’d be very happy to follow his guidance. I only needed to play along.

  As I made my way to the bedroom, he grabbed his remote and turned on classic 40s jazz music. I changed into yoga pants, a loose top, and my favorite sweater, washed my hands and face in the bathroom, and joined him at the table. Much to my surprise, in the ten minutes I was busy, he had pulled together a wooden board of cheese, olives, cured meats, and crackers. Champagne bubbled away in two flutes on the table, and the bottles of saké I purchased when I was out with Nahoko sat off to the side.

  “Wow. What have we here?” I slipped into the chair across from him, admiring his quick handiwork.

  “This is what we should have been doing hours ago.” He plated a little of each offering and placed it in front of me. “We won’t have the five star service nor the hot springs, but with some music playing and champagne, it’ll feel just about the same.”

  He raised his glass, and I followed suit. “To a whole new year in which to make fewer mistakes.”

  I laughed and touched my glass to his. “Fewer mistakes. And absent friends.”

  We talked and laughed for over an hour, enjoying the champagne, the food, the music. He relived his day in the kitchen with Hiromi and Andrew, and I tried to find all the funny parts of my day with Nahoko to regale him with. It was hard though, and I struggled to keep a happy face as we approached midnight, until I remembered the woman who was lost on the street.

  “I’m so glad you got her back to her family.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You did the right thing.”

  “You know what, if today taught me anything, it’s that family is the most im
portant thing in the world. If things go wrong in a family, people can end up broken and bitter like Nahoko-san or lost on the street like that poor woman. Nahoko-san had expectations for how she wanted to be treated by her family, and they didn’t meet them.”

  “It’s possible they didn’t know how bad things were,” he said, coming to Hiromi and Andrew’s defense.

  “I’m sure of that. She probably never even told them she needed more attention, just expected it.” I sighed as I sipped the last of my champagne. “I’m glad we’re home. This is where we’re needed, you know?” We nodded at each other, sure we’d made the right decision by returning.

  Gauging my mood, Yasahiro stood up and offered me his hand as a slow song came on the radio. I blushed, unable to remember if we had danced together before. I didn’t think we had, actually. This would be our first time.

  I wrapped my left arm around his waist, and he held my right hand close to his chest. We swayed to the beat, my head on his shoulder, and a sigh upon my lips.

  “This is nice. I like dancing with you,” I whispered. His head dipped and kissed my neck right below my ear. “Mmmm, I’m glad I’m here with you.”

  “Me too.” He glanced over at the clock and back to me. “I’m going to kiss you when the clock strikes midnight, and then we’re going to bed.” He raised his eyebrows and I laughed, one of those genuinely happy laughs that comes straight from my stomach.

  “And then what?”

  “And then we do what we should’ve done in the first place. We’ll start your education in cooking, and we’ll spend the day with our families.”

  The song ended, and the announcer burst onto the radio to herald in a brand-new year. I wrapped my arms around Yasahiro’s neck, tipped my face up to his, and started a new phase of our life with a kiss.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When the alarm sounded at 5:00, I woke up in a tangle of legs and arms. We only got about three hours of sleep, but it would have to do until midday when we could nap. Yasahiro ignored the alarm’s incessant beeping and snuggled up to me.

  “We brought in the new year exactly the way I wanted to,” he said, resting his warm hands against my lower back. “And now we’re going to begin your education with the knife.”

  I giggled. “That sounds like the beginning of a horror novel.”

  He lowered his voice. “She opened the drawer, and the knife burst forth, slashing at random. She had no chance to survive.” He hummed creepy music, and I laughed even harder. “Probably too much horror on too little sleep.” He rolled away and slammed his hand onto the top of the alarm clock. The bedroom fell into blessed silence.

  Today, I would start out the year the way I wanted to continue it, in bed with a loved one, learning something new, and continuing with family.

  “Time to get out of bed, Mei-chan,” Yasahiro said, swinging his legs over me and sitting up. “We have ozoni soup to make, places to be, and people to see.”

  The sun was an hour and a half from rising, so we bundled up into sweaters and slippers and turned up the heat. Yasahiro made coffee while I splashed water on my face in the bathroom and combed my hair.

  “Okay. You’re in charge of the vegetables, and I’ll be in charge of the soup.” He laid out six carrots, a large bag of shiitake mushrooms, bundles of fresh spinach, a few daikon radishes, and then paused. “What else does your mom put in her soup?”

  “Well, toasted mochi, of course, tofu, and yuzu peel.”

  He opened his refrigerator and retrieved the missing items. He even had yuzu. I don’t know why I was surprised by that. He was a chef after all.

  “This is going to be great,” I said, smiling as I sipped my coffee. “Mom rarely makes her soup until the late morning, after we go to temple. She’ll be so excited to see it.”

  I could do the basic prep on my own, washing and pealing the vegetables and laying them out to be cut. Yasahiro tried to show me how to curl my fingers under so I wouldn’t hurt myself chopping vegetables, but I found it uncomfortable and the carrots slid everywhere.

  He stared down at my rough cuts, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and handed it to me. “This is what I used as a kid to keep vegetables in place.” He speared one end with the fork, and I squealed with glee.

  “How come my mom never showed me this?” I asked, as I cut the carrots in even increments. The fork really helped.

  “I know your mom. She’s the type of person who would rather have you learn something the right way the first time. I’m of the opinion that even if you’re doing it wrong, you’ll build confidence to do it the right way eventually. I did, and I used the fork for at least ten years.”

  Somehow I’m not surprised. He was the type to bulldoze through and keep trying until he achieved his goals. He had done the same thing with me.

  I hummed as I chopped away. Each item I speared with my fork first, and then, slowly but gaining speed, I made my way through all the vegetables. Yasahiro boiled stock on the stove and toasted mochi rice cakes under the broiler until they puffed up and browned. The smell made my stomach growl, hoping for a meal.

  “Wow, is that your stomach?” Yasahiro said with a laugh. “Don’t worry. Soup will be ready in no time.”

  He added the vegetables to the boiling stock, pulling the seaweed out first. “We cook these until tender, then add miso paste and the tofu. The washed spinach goes in last. Always start cooking with the vegetables that take the longest and work your way to the ones that need the least amount of time.” I watched as the soup came together, and he turned off the heat. “All done, and look!” He pointed towards the window. The sky had turned from deep obsidian to navy blue. The sun was coming up.

  “Mei-chan, you make toast, and I’ll brew us up more coffee.”

  I scrambled past him, popping bread in the toaster and grabbing butter from the fridge. The sky was lightening, bit by bit, and if we didn’t hurry, we’d miss it. I’ve never buttered toast so quickly in all my life.

  “I know the perfect place to watch the sun come up,” Yasahiro said, pointing up at the ceiling.

  “Yes!”

  We ran to the door, stumbled over our boots, laughing at each other, drunk on too much coffee and too little sleep. With coats, hats, and scarves on, we left the heated comfort of his apartment. He grabbed a broom and a blanket from the front hall closet before we ascended the stairs and pushed onto the roof through the few centimeters of snow left up there.

  “Ah! We made it just in time. Here, hold my drink.” I took his coffee as he made a path for us with the broom, pushed snow from the table, and placed the blanket upon it so we had a place to sit. We ate our toast, munching while steam poured from our lips and the coffee.

  “This is cold, but great,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder. We both stared at the horizon, watching for the first glimpse of the sun for the new year. There was no better tradition I loved than observing the first sunrise of the year, and to do it with Yasahiro? I couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect.

  We sipped on our coffee in companionable silence, letting the new rays of the winter sun warm our faces and blind our eyes. I leaned over and kissed him on his cheek.

  “Thank you. This is wonderful, and I’d much rather be here with you than in some five-star hotel.”

  “Me too,” he whispered back. He lightly touched my cheek, his fingers skipping down to my chin. “You’re my light, Mei. I’d be lost without you.”

  I smiled, all the words sucked right out of me. My chest was frozen in one long inhale. I could only stare back into his eyes and dart forward to kiss him again. Who needed luck when I had this moment to look back on forever?

  When he pulled away, he kissed along my cheek to my ear. “We should finish up inside. I’m an icicle now.”

  Back inside the apartment, we packaged up the soup to bring to my mom’s, but Yasahiro set aside one extra. “For Murata-san,” he said, and I had to stop myself from crying. He had remembered her quicker than I had!

  We
dropped off a serving of ozoni soup to Murata, my first, long-term elderly client. She lived around the corner from Yasahiro, and she had been a big help to us during the investigation of Etsuko’s murder.

  “You didn’t have to do this! You must have been up for hours,” she said, answering the door in her house coat and slippers.

  “We wanted to make sure you had something warm to eat on the first morning of the year,” I said, bowing. “And I’ll be back in two days to make sure everything’s going all right.”

  The road out to the house was covered with a light dusting of snow, blown onto the pavement overnight. Everything looked to be business as usual at home. Smoke curled from the chimney stack, and several cars were already in the driveway.

  “Hello! We’re here!” I called out, kicking off my boots in the front hall.

  Mom, Chiyo, Goro, and Kumi emerged from the kitchen, Mom’s face wide with surprise.

  “I thought you were in Hakone!” She opened her arms to hug me, and I gratefully hugged her back.

  “We decided it would be better to be at home for New Year’s Day. Yasa-kun and I even made ozoni soup.”

  Yasahiro hefted the bags in his arms and passed one off to Goro.

  “You helped?” Mom asked, a smile taking over the surprise.

  “I did. I chopped vegetables, just like Yasa-kun taught me.”

  “My, my,” Mom said, elbowing her best friend, Chiyo, in the ribs. “We may make a chef out of you yet.”

  Yasahiro laughed. “She can prep, but it’ll be awhile before I let her near the stove.”

  I reached out and pinched his arm as everyone laughed at me. But I laughed too, happy to be home with my family.

  “Let’s eat soup now, and then we’ll all go to the temple for prayers before your brother gets here.” Mom gestured for us to sit at the kotatsu. “I’m real proud of you, Mei-chan. And I’m so glad you came back.”