Chapter 5: New Page

As the police sirens faded into the distance, Yaeko and Toji sat on the couch in the small living room of their home. The atmosphere was heavy, and though Yaeko tried to remain calm, Toji could see the tension in her eyes. She stroked his hand, ignoring the sting of her wound.

Yaeko paused, searching for the right words to explain the situation to Toji without revealing too much. "Toji... I want you to understand something. That man... he was my boss, at the bar where I worked." She stopped, trying to conceal the discomfort in her voice. "It was a... complicated place. He paid well, but it wasn't... it wasn't the best place."

Toji frowned, cutting her off bluntly. "Were you a prostitute, Mom?"

Yaeko felt the air stop for a second. The directness of the question left her stunned; she never imagined Toji knew anything about it. "Where did you get that...?" she exclaimed, panic coloring her words. Quickly recovering, she shook her head emphatically. "No, Toji. No, I was never that. I just worked at the bar. It was... complicated, yes, but I never did anything like that."

He stared at her silently, and when she finished, he flashed a crooked smile, as if he found the topic amusing rather than serious. "So, my mom had one of those jobs? And everyone thought you were just serving drinks?" He crossed his arms, holding back a laugh. "And now you're telling me this like it's going to bother me?"

Yaeko blushed, angry, and snapped, "Listen, kid. It's not something I'm proud of. Like I said, it was... complicated." She firmly took his hand, wanting him to understand how important it was to leave that behind. "Everything I did was so we could be okay, so you could be okay."

Toji let out a soft chuckle, patting her shoulder with a carefree gesture. "Mom, don't get so serious. If they paid well, who cares? Besides, that's all in the past now, right? If one of those guys comes back, I'll just send them flying."

Yaeko smiled, relieved by his unexpectedly relaxed response. "Yes, exactly. That job is behind us now. With this new opportunity, none of that matters anymore."

Toji nodded, still amused, though a hint of seriousness lingered in his eyes. "So, does this mean I won't see any more weird guys like that? Because if they show up again, you know I can 'handle' them."

"That's right," Yaeko assured him, trying not to laugh at his tone. "Things are going to be different now. Let's just focus on ourselves."

Toji grinned, pleased he had eased the tension with his comments, but deep down, he knew he'd always keep an eye out for her.

The years passed quickly, and when Toji turned twelve, his mother announced they would have to move sooner than expected. Yaeko's boss had decided to relocate the main office to Aichi Prefecture. Toji honestly didn't care. He never made friends in the area and doubted he would make any before he turned twenty, at least. He had little patience for kids and preferred to keep his distance.

After packing their meager belongings, Yaeko asked him for one last favor.

"Ah, Toji, go pay the bill at Takeshi's store. Here's the money."

Toji took the money and walked a few blocks to the shop. There was the old man, with the same wrinkled face as always and a bit of dust on his apron. "Before I ever get to that point, I'd rather kill myself," Toji thought, imagining working until he was as old as the shopkeeper.

"Hey, old man. Here's the money we owe for the month," he said, placing the bills on the counter.

"Oh, Toji-kun, I heard you're moving. That's a shame; you'll be missed." The old man looked at him with a hint of melancholy in his eyes, but Toji nodded, more than ready to leave.

"Oh, wait, boy. I still owe you for the days you worked. You didn't finish the pay period." Toji stopped in his tracks. He would never say no to money. Besides, those yen were for his own indulgences; he hated depending on his mother for everything.

"For the three days, that's 7,500 yen. It's been a pleasure, Toji-kun. I wish you the best." The old man smiled as he handed over the money. Toji took the bills, recalling the hours he had spent moving and organizing inventory. He worked almost daily at the store, lifting heavy boxes and arranging products on the shelves. It was easy work for him but not for the old man.

Toji gave a small approving smile. "Same to you, old man. Thanks for helping my family."

The old man smiled warmly. Toji pocketed the money and returned home, where the moving truck was already parked, with his mother overseeing the loading.

"Toji, help the guys load the truck," Yaeko asked without turning to look at him.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at the workers hurrying about. "Why? We're paying them for that, right? So, guys, do your job."

The workers glared at him, and his mother, Yaeko, pressed her lips together, clearly holding back her irritation. Toji, with a smug grin, decided to ignore them and went back inside.

With the house now empty, Yaeko took one last look around. This place had been the backdrop of good and bad memories, though more bad than good. She sighed, resigned. Her gaze fell on a crack in the wall; with a nostalgic smile, she touched it gently. The crack reminded her of an incident when Toji was eight years old. That day, some kids had thrown a water balloon at him, and if not for his teacher's intervention, those kids would probably have ended up in the hospital. Furious, Toji had taken it out on the wall as soon as he got home. She remembered that day because it was the first time she had been truly scared by his intensity—it was also the first time she had used a belt to discipline him.

"Well," she murmured with a soft smile, "a new page and a better future for Toji."

Her reflection was interrupted by her son's voice, shouted impatiently from the street. "What's the holdup? Hurry up, witch, or we'll miss the train!"

Yaeko clenched her fists, smiling with resignation. She knew he used those words ironically, but that didn't stop her from wanting to punch him. Taking a deep breath, she closed the door for the last time and stepped outside, ready to face whatever lay ahead... and to give her dear son a lesson along the way.