Chapter 01
The Photograph on the Wall
(Bookmark Insert: The Photograph on the Wall)
Ami’s house stood on a spacious plot, enclosed by an old black wooden fence and a hedge of camellias.
Once, the grand gate must have been truly impressive. Now, it had rotted away—its lattice doors and roof long gone—leaving only two thick pillars that still stood proudly, as if clinging to past dignity.
Beyond the gate, the camellia hedge curved gently toward the entrance. Along the path grew loquat, chestnut, zelkova, plum, and azalea trees, all left rather untended and overgrown.
The main house itself was also old, a purely Japanese-style building. Though much of it had been repaired compared to earlier days, the front wooden walls still carried a quaint atmosphere, reminiscent of old Kyoto townhouses.
“Good morning!” called a cheerful voice. It was Ami’s best friend, Reiko.
Reiko’s house stood right next door, just to the right of Ami’s. When she visited Ami, she never used the front entrance. Instead, just before the entryway, there was a break in the hedge leading into the garden. From there, she would cut across the yard and enter through the sliding windows of the long, south-facing veranda.
“Good morning. Ami, are you up?”
Reiko slid open the middle veranda window and called out. In the living room beyond the hallway, Ami’s grandfather, Eijirō, sat reading the newspaper.
“Good morning, Reiko-chan. That sailor uniform suits you,” Eijirō said, narrowing his eyes in delight as he looked at her.
“Uncle, I just came yesterday with Ami to show you our uniforms!”
“That doesn’t matter. Girls grow more beautiful day by day.”
“Thank you. Even if it’s just flattery, it makes me happy. But… where’s Ami?”
Without looking up from his newspaper, Eijirō replied,
“She’s awake. It seems she hasn’t slept since yesterday…”
“Again? School starts today. She is going, isn’t she?”
Reiko frowned, scolding him with her eyes.
Turning slightly toward her, Eijirō answered,
“Of course—she was putting on her sailor uniform, showing off, and hopping about with excitement.”
He smiled, as if recalling the scene.
“But with Ami, liking the uniform and actually going to school are two different things…” Reiko muttered as she neatly took off her shoes and stepped up into the hallway.
“By the way, Uncle—you seem awfully relaxed. Aren’t you going to the entrance ceremony?”
Eijirō blinked in surprise.
“Reiko-chan… do parents usually go to the ceremony? Ami didn’t say anything about it.”
“Well, it’s not required. Attendance is optional. But wasn’t it written in the notice they sent out?”
“No, I didn’t look…”
Reiko sighed at his indifference.
(This kind of father is nice too… though in this case, he’s a grandfather.)
Her own parents would be going all dressed up, of course, and even bringing along a video camera—an ordeal that always embarrassed her. Yet, at the same time, that kind of fuss brought reassurance, a reminder of her parents’ love.
Determined not to let Ami feel too carefree in comparison, she insisted:
“Usually, all parents go. Mine are going too. And you know, for a child, it’s lonely if nobody comes to watch.”
Eijirō slowly folded his newspaper.
“You’re right… Maybe Ami didn’t ask because she knows I don’t want her to go to school at all.”
“That must be it. Ami’s a kind girl. So this time, Uncle, you need to understand her feelings!”
Reiko turned her face away and stuck out her tongue mischievously, then hurried toward Ami’s room.
But from deep in the garden came the voice of Ami’s grandmother, Fumie.
“Rei-chan, if you’re looking for Ami, she’s in the piano room!”
Startled, Reiko realized she had rushed past without noticing Fumie tending the garden.
“Oh! Good morning, Auntie. Aren’t you going to the ceremony either?”
“Would it be all right for me to go? I’m not the one enrolling, after all.”
Reiko’s irritation flared again, reminding her of her urgent purpose.
“No, you must come—for Ami’s sake!” she called, striding quickly toward the annex.
The annex, built onto the western edge of the main house, was a soundproof practice room made especially for the piano. It was about thirty tatami mats in size, with a ceiling nearly six meters high. In the center stood a grand concert piano.
Reiko could already hear faint notes, telling her Ami was inside.
When she slowly opened the heavy door, the music, held back until then, burst through the gap and crashed into her body before scattering past her.
“She’s really into it…”
Ami was already dressed in her sailor uniform, ready for school. Reiko felt something different, almost solemn, about her, and hesitated to call out. But there was no time to lose.
“Ami, it’s time already!”
Still, the piano did not stop.
Resigned, Reiko sat down on a sofa pressed against the wall and listened.
Her eyes wandered, and on the wall she noticed a photograph: Ami’s parents, smiling happily side by side.
Ami’s mother, Mari, had been a pianist of some renown. But when Ami was only a year old, both parents died in a plane crash. They had been returning from a concert tour in Paris.
Even more tragic, it had been at Eijirō and Fumie’s suggestion that Ami’s father, Shunnosuke, traveled with Mari to help care for the baby. Thus, Ami lost both parents at once.
Eijirō was consumed with grief and guilt, feeling responsible for their deaths. And since Shunnosuke was his only son, he resolved to raise Ami himself, against the protests of relatives—both as a way to atone and as a way to entrust all his property and hopes to her.
But more than duty, it was his overwhelming desire to raise Ami well in his son’s place.
“…You’re reporting to your mother, aren’t you?”
Ami gave no reply.
At last, the music swelled, then softened into silence.
“It’s no good. Ever since spring break started, I’ve been painting instead, neglecting the piano. Now it just doesn’t go well at all…” she finally said.
“Did you finish your painting?”
“Not at all!”
“But school starts today!”
“I know…”
Ami closed the lid of the piano and stood up.
“Come on—we’ve got to hurry to school!”
She grabbed Reiko’s hand and pulled her out of the practice room.
“Wait up!”
Nearly tripping over her own feet, Reiko recalled the lonely look Ami had worn just moments ago. But Ami dashed through the hall as if to shake away such thoughts.
Thump, thump, thump… thump, thump, thump!
In that old house, every sound echoed everywhere. Of course, Eijirō heard it too.
He was about to stand and shout at them to calm down, but by then the two girls had already run out into the garden.
With skirts bouncing, unashamed and full of innocent energy, they seemed ready to run all the way to school. Eijirō watched after them, half worried, half smiling.
