The Housewife’s Netorare App

It had been four years since I married my husband, Souji Ninomae, and took on his surname to be his wife. Three years since we moved to Shinjuku, where he works as a regional sales manager for Ushigome Enterprise, a computer hardware exporter based in Shibuya. And one year since I, Yuina Katsuragi, now Yuina Ninomae, stopped working as a cafe barista to be a fulltime housewife at 29-years old.

Of course, I was reluctant when he first told me to leave behind coffee grinders and espresso machines. Having worked at a cafe to pay through my university days and continued to a few years after, it was hard to hang up the apron. I adored the smell of freshly roasted coffee, seeing the smiles on my customers face when I handed them their beverage.

However, Souji was the real breadwinner between the two of us. As a business degree graduate, he was able to find work right out of university. In a matter of years, it was clear he had a keen business sense, and became a regional sales manager at a senior level earning over twelve-million yen a year.

After 365 days of seeing him off at the door, today on a sweltering Monday in August, marked one whole year of when I became a housewife. I was beginning to feel, for once since we married, a little lonely.

As he was putting on his shoes, I reached out to hug him from behind.

"Yuina?" he said my name, as he had hundreds of times before, but today unaware of what I felt.

When Souji turned to face me, I planted a kiss on his cheek. He turned around completely, enveloped me in his arms, and we kissed deeply.

I took a deep breath to resolve myself.

"This may come as a surprise, but… when you come home, I want to talk to you seriously about having a baby."

Souji's eyes went wide with shock, rightly so. To have a child was a big step, but it was what I wanted and hoped he did, too.

The silence continued for what felt like an eternity. When I think he was about to scold me for being too brash with this, his arms tightened around me.

"S-Souji? What's the matter?" I asked.

He spun me around a few times and let me back on my feet, dizzy and confused. Tears welled around his eyes, and at that moment, the same spark of love I had for him strengthened.

"I'm glad!" he shouted. "You have no idea. I just didn't know how to bring it up! I mean, you're the one who will carry a big lump of fat for nine months—"

I slapped his face to silence him. "Don't call our baby a lump of fat!"

"I'm sorry, sorry. I really am happy you brought this up. Whenever I came home, it just didn't look like you were happy. So I was getting worried," he said.

"Darling." I pressed a finger to his lips and pointed to the clock with my other hand. "We can talk more when you come home. You're going to be late."

"Oh, shit!" Souji sprung to action, finally getting into his shoes and grabbing his briefcase.

I helped him smooth out the creases of his shirt and tie, then gave him another kiss.

"Off you go," I said, smiling warmly.

"I'll be off, Yuina." He scratched his nose, blushing up to his ears.

Souji shut the door as he left. I squatted down and waited until the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard. Then I started screaming into my hands. Like an obsessed fangirl finally seeing their celebrity in person, I screamed.

"I have to tell Kanako about this!"

When I got to my feet, the doorbell had already rung twice. Thinking that Souji had forgotten something, I threw the door open not to the sight of my dearly beloved husband, but of my next to neighbor, Kei Tanaka.

He was in a fighting stance, his hands hovered in the air as though preparing to tackle someone. He blinked a few times, unsure of what to make of the situation, then returned to a normal posture and cleared his throat.

"I heard screaming, so I thought something had happened. I seem to be mistaken…" he said, scratching his beer belly over the stained white tank top in embarrassment.

Mr. Tanaka was the third floor's handyman. Our apartment complex was unique in that they hired live-in repairmen, one for each floor, on significantly reduced rent and decent pay. He had helped Souji and I a great deal when we first moved in, and could be considered our first friend in Shinjuku.

"If I woke you up, I'm so sorry! I was just so excited, I couldn't contain myself. Get this, Mr. Tanaka— Souji and I decided to have a baby!" I exclaimed to our neighbor.

I wanted to tell my best friend Kanako the news first, but Mr. Tanaka deserved to know, too. We had known each other for three years now, after all.

"That is wonderful news," Mr. Tanaka said, nodding to himself. "I expect to get a lot less sleep at night from now on. Haha!"

It took a moment for me to process what he had said. I buried myself into my hands as realization hit.

"Mr. Tanaka, please… that's embarrassing!" I struck him lightly on the shoulder and the both of us laughed it off.

For him to have cracked a joke like that goes to show his crass personality. But the humor took a load off my shoulders.

Bearing a child and subsequently raising one was not a decision to be made lightly. Souji and I had a lot to think and talk about.

But as the laughter died down, we stood there awkwardly waiting for the other to say something. I never had another man in the house when Souji was gone. He occasionally brought home drunk coworkers, and every now and again we'd invite Mr. Tanaka for dinner, but Souji would be here with me.

It dawned on me that if someone were to break in, I would be alone. If a large man like Tanaka came in with foul intentions, my life would be in danger. Or worse…

"Mrs. Ninomae?" Mr. Tanaka's voice snapped me from my panicked thoughts.

I shook my head and clapped my cheeks together, surprising the guest at my door. "Oh, sorry. I got caught up thinking about things…"

"Having a baby is a lot to think about. I should get going. Toilets to unclog and drains to clear," he said, pulling out his vibrating cell phone. "I'm happy for you two. If you have a boy, don't name him Kei— the name's bad luck!"

As I closed the door on his way out, my hand clutching tightly on the doorknob, I had trouble discerning the distressed emotions bubbling within me.