On the left side of the photo, Mom was wearing a school uniform—probably her high school one. A band-aid was stuck across her nose, and even her eyes held a mischievous glint. She was grinning widely, one arm draped around Dad's shoulder, and flashing a peace sign at the camera.
On the right side of the photo, Dad was in the same uniform. He wore black-rimmed square glasses and had a black backpack on his shoulders. His smile was awkward and forced, clearly having been dragged into this by Mom.
Miyamura Shizuka stared at the photo for a while, reminiscing, before slowly explaining the backstory to the kids.
She talked about being a delinquent in high school, brawling in groups, then being assigned to the same class as Daiki—who constantly advised her to study. She recounted how she once got injured during a fight, ran away and ended up hiding out, only to bump into him by chance. From there, the rest played out like a classic teen drama.
After listening, Shouko eagerly asked the most important question:
"So who confessed first?"
"Obviously Mom!" Akira answered without hesitation. "Just look at Dad's face in that photo—he was clearly forced. No way he took the initiative."
"Haha..." Miyamura Shizuka chuckled softly, raised her finger, and lightly tapped her son's forehead.
"Then I'm afraid you've guessed wrong. It was your Dad who confessed first."
"What!?" Akira stared in disbelief. He couldn't accept that he'd misjudged the situation. His Dad, the quiet bookworm, was the one who confessed first?
He turned to Daiki, trying to read the truth from his face, but got no signs of denial.
Daiki met his son's gaze, smiled gently, and confirmed,
"She's not lying. I really did confess first."
Miyamura Shizuka, knowing exactly what her son was thinking, reached out and grabbed both his cheeks, pulling them gently with a teasing smile.
"What's that face? Got a problem with your Dad falling for your Mom first?"
Akira winced as his cheeks were tugged. Instinct kicking in, he quickly shook his head and spoke in a muffled voice,
"Nope, no problem at all. That just means Dad has great taste—excellent taste!" He gave her a thumbs-up mid-pinch.
"Auntie, Akira knows he was wrong, please forgive him," Shouko said with a giggle, stepping in to plead on his behalf.
Miyamura Shizuka sighed and let go, giving him a once-over.
"I didn't even pull that hard…"
Daiki chimed in with a chuckle,
"Your son's skin is basically made of tofu. It turns red from the wind. You'll get used to it."
Akira nodded sheepishly in agreement. He was well aware of how delicate his skin was by now.
Off to the side, Miyamura Yui, who had been watching the whole time, glanced at the setting sun and asked,
"Are you all staying for dinner?"
Once Shizuka and Daiki nodded, she headed back to the kitchen to get started.
Watching her go, Miyamura Shizuka suddenly remembered something and took out her phone.
"I forgot to tell Yaeko I brought Shoko with me. I'll give her a quick call."
She stepped aside and began chatting.
Akira, meanwhile, was looking through the items they had unearthed earlier. Most were small knickknacks, like Shizuka's old accessories, Daiki's schoolbooks, some handmade crafts, and the single photo.
Only four letters remained.
"Dad, can I read these now? Or should I wait for Mom?" he asked.
Daiki glanced at the letters and replied,
"Wait until she gets back. There's no rush."
When Shizuka returned, Daiki had already reburied Shouko's time capsule in its spot.
"What took you so long?" he asked.
"Just caught up in gossip with Yaeko. Time flew by," she answered with a wave.
Later, the three of them sat by the coffee table. Miyamura Shizuka went to help Yui in the kitchen, leaving Akira, Shouko, and Daiki together.
Akira was gently massaging Shouko's soft little hand—at least, that's what he told her. Shouko completely bought it and offered up her hand willingly, eyes glued to the TV.
He looked at Daiki and said,
"Should we open the letters now?"
Daiki handed him one and said,
"Start with this—it's mine. Nothing private in there." Then he turned his attention back to the comedy show.
Akira opened it, pulled out the yellowed paper, and handed it to Shouko to read. He didn't even look at it.
The letter was simple and brief:
"I hope our future home becomes stronger and happier, and that I love my wife more and more. May we live peacefully and safely."
After dinner, it was already around 8 PM. Miyamura Shizuka sat cross-legged on the tatami and lightly slapped Daiki's arm after reading his overly sentimental letter.
"Alright, alright. Open the next one. Shouko's been itching to see them all day," Miyamura Yui said with a chuckle.
Miyamura Shizuka's letter, written more than ten years ago:
"I hope I become more and more beautiful ten years from now. I hope the baby in my belly is born safely and grows up healthy. Please, let it be a girl. A girl!!
She'll inherit my looks and her Dad's brains. Or at least just my looks! But ideally smart too—otherwise, she might get tricked by some flashy blond guy.
I heard babies are hard to raise. I hope mine is quiet and doesn't cry too much. That would be best. But above all else, I just want them to be born safe and live a healthy life."
Akira stared at the letter and muttered,
"Isn't this basically a wish list?"
Then something clicked in his head.
Wait… Mom wanted a girl so badly, and she kept saying she 'accidentally' bought me girls' pajamas when I was little… Was that even an accident?!
"Haha, look at it this way," Miyamura Shizuka said while stroking his hair proudly,
"Except for the part about you being a girl, everything else came true, right? That means it worked!"
"...That actually makes sense..." Akira admitted. "Everything else really did come true..."
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