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Nomoto can tell Kasuga wants to say something. There's a stiffness to her movements, a hunch in her shoulders that reminds her of Kasuga when they first met. She hadn't consciously realised how much more relaxed Kasuga's posture had become over their time together, but seeing her retreat back into her former withdrawn self tugs at Nomoto's heartstrings.
"Kasuga," she says, moving to sit next to her on the bench, one hand gently resting on Kasuga's thigh.
"There was something I wanted to talk to you about. Before we actually move in together." Kasuga says it seriously, but Nomoto reminds herself that Kasuga is a fundamentally serious person, and there's no reason to panic. Every problem they've had so far has been made better by talking about it.
"Of course," she nods, "what would you like to talk about?"
Kasuga moves to clench her fists, a nervous tell Nomoto recognises, but the movement causes her left hand to brush against where Nomoto is touching her. After a moment's consideration, Kasuga gently covers Nomoto's small hand with her own.
"Kasuga... is my father's name." she says, eyes firmly cast downwards at their joined hands. Her long hair is loose and forms a curtain, partially covering her face from view. "There's a lot of him that I'll never be able to get rid of, even if I never see him again, and I know he's responsible for my given name as much as my family name, but even so. Totoko is my name, not theirs."
Nomoto can't stop herself from squeezing Kasuga's hand tightly, a mixture of emotions - pride, anger, excitement and above all, deep adoration and love - bubbling up and overflowing, unable to contain it all inside. "O-of course! I would be honoured to call you by your given name, if that's what you'd like," she says in a rush, utterly unable to hide the fact she'd been hoping for this for months, "and if you felt comfortable calling me Yuki as well..."
Kasuga nods, looking every bit the stoic and strong person she couldn't help but fall in love with, but Nomoto knows her, and can feel her nerves tremoring down to her hands.
"Thank you so much for talking about this," she says, knowing how hard it is for Kasuga to ask for things. A thrill rushes through her as she realises that this is a part of their developing relationship where Kasuga has taken initiative.
"Totoko..." she tries, loving how each syllable feels on her tongue. Kasuga finally looks up and meets her gaze, eyes crinkling in a small smile.
"Yuki." Notomo's heard her name a million times, but never before has hearing it made her feel like falling over, or wish she had her big spotted cushion handy so she could squash her face into it.
In the absence of her cushion, she pulls Kasuga close with their linked hands, sliding her free hand around Kasuga’s back and nestling close, chin to shoulder. She feels Kasuga draw an arm around her as well in one smooth motion, and when she says “Yuki” again, with a barely perceptible touch of huskiness, it’s right next to Nomoto’s ear.
She brings their joined hands up so she can brush her fingers along Kasuga’s flushed cheek, reluctantly drawing her face back so, after confirming with an imperceptible nod from Kasuga, she can lean back in for a kiss.
They’ve kissed hundreds of times by now, but each one still feels new - their first kiss in the morning after Nomoto fell asleep on the sofa again, their first kiss in the rain on the balcony after their sakura-viewing plans were ruined, their first kiss after making castella cake where Kasuga’s lips tasted of honey.
Their first kiss after using their given names is, Nomoto thinks, finally releasing Kasuga’s hand so she can run fingers through her beautifully soft hair, a truly wonderful first even by their own high standards.
"You know what?" Nomoto says once she's recovered enough, a thought bubbling to the top through the haze of her brain as Kasuga's earlier words fully process, "it IS ridiculous that we're expected to just keep our father's name until we marry a man and take his!"
It's another reminder that, even if they wanted to, they're still unable to get married. But other than the heavy hurt that Nomoto's learning to carry around with her about that fact, she feels like the conversation has given her permission to peek inside a box she'd been keeping locked shut.
Totoko Nomoto... a beautiful name, and one that she'd dearly love to one day say out loud, but for now Nomoto contents herself to think it without shame.
Moving day feels momentous, even though everything goes according to plan. Thanks to a level of planning that would make preparing a proper stollen cake seem simple, their belongings are boxed, combined, sold or donated ahead of the move, meaning that on the actual day there's not much more to do than let the company they've hired carry out their work. Kasuga drives them to the letting agency to pick up their new keys, then the 20 minute journey to the flat, Nomoto sitting in the passenger seat with their strawberry plant on her lap, unable to shake a wide grin from her face.
The moving company came recommended by their letting agency, so Nomoto knows there's nothing to panic about when both her belongings and Kasuga's are labelled for delivery to the master bedroom. It's not like they haven't shared a bed before, but the idea of the bedroom being theirs - not Nomoto staying over at Kasuga's (a preferable arrangement than the reverse thanks to the size of Kasuga's bed) - makes Nomoto feel feverish with excitement. No more tiptoeing back to her flat at the break of dawn, hoping that Nagumo wouldn't choose those same few seconds to step outside. Her own, smaller bed has been demoted to the guest bedroom, and they used the proceeds from selling her refrigerator to buy a larger, fold-out sofa for the living room.
The delivery company employees unpack with the same efficiency with which they'd loaded everything up, and within an hour of their arrival, all the boxes and furniture have been unloaded, Nomoto directing the biggest items into designated places in the kitchen.
Kasuga's efficiency at unpacking should come as no surprise, Nomoto realises, given it's what she spends most of her working life doing. But despite that, and the equally obvious fact of Kasuga's strength - there's something about watching her carefully but effortlessly lifting boxes of bowls and plates that has Nomoto feeling flushed. Kasuga hoists their hotplate and a few other less-often-used appliances onto a shelf Nomoto wouldn't be able to reach without a chair. The day is warm and she's removed her jacket, and even though there’s about fifty tasks around the flat to which she should be attending, Nomoto can’t help but stop and stare.
As they unpack box by box, Nomoto looks forward to the first night of what she hopes will be the rest of their lives.
The easy compatibility they'd built together across their old apartments, effortlessly moving around each other while cooking together in either of their small kitchens, continues in their new place, where neither have to ask where the hand blender is, or which cupboard the loaf tin is kept in.
Kasuga passes Nomoto the spider strainer before she needs to ask, and has a plate lined with paper towel waiting for the karaage Nomoto has been preparing. Nomoto scoops up every piece of chicken, then brings the plate over to the table, where rice, pickles, salad, miso soup, and most importantly, Kasuga, sit ready.
It’s over dinner that Kasuga raises the idea of taking Nagumo to a cat cafe for her birthday at the end of the month. Nomoto had been debating what kind of dessert she thought their former neighbour would prefer - half-tempted to ask Kasuga to see if she could sneakily find out, but knowing that despite Kasuga's many, many admirable traits, being secretive is not one of them.
"I think it makes sense for me to drive us," Kasuga says, swallowing a piece of chicken. "If Ms Yako is coming as well, we can all fit in the car."
Nomoto looks at Kasuga over the table, her girlfriend's intrinsic, natural kindness causing joy to well up and nearly spill out of her.
"Is something the matter?" Kasuga asks, concerned at Nomoto's dopey expression.
Nomoto shakes her head, reaching to take a piece of chicken, "I think it's a really wonderful idea."
Their groupchat is still called Curry Party, even though they've used it to coordinate half a dozen different meals, plus outings to the beach, the farmer's market, and on an especially warm spring day, a picnic in the park. Nomoto’s been busy at work and spending her spare time preparing a menu for the event, so Kasuga figures the least she can do is help with organisation. Nagumo's birthday falls on a Monday, so Kasuga suggests the preceding Saturday; to visit the cafe around lunchtime, returning to their flat afterwards for dinner and a movie in the late afternoon.
[I'm so in!] Yako replies immediately, followed by a string of party and cat-themed emojis.
[That sounds amazing, thank you so much!] comes Nagumo’s reply moments later.
Once they’ve finished their meal and cleaned up, Nomoto boils the kettle while Kasuga scrolls through the bookmarks of potential birthday treats on the tablet.
"A cake is the traditional choice, but would having a slice make Nagumo feel like she has to eat the whole thing?" Nomoto asks, bringing two mugs of black tea over to the bench and sliding in beside Kasuga, "she's been doing so much better, but it being her birthday might put pressure on... would cookies be better maybe?"
"I think Nagumo would really like these," Kasuga points at a recipe for cat-face-shaped macarons, "they're very cute."
"They are, aren't they? I haven't made macarons before but I've read they're a little tricky - would you be willing to be a taste tester and promise to let me know if they turn out badly?"
"I would be honoured to test them," Kasuga nods, "and I promise to be honest... though everything you make tastes amazing."
Nomoto blushes and ducks her head at the praise. "What about the lemon cheesecake?"
"It didn't set well," Kasuga concedes, "but it was still delicious."
"Welcome!" a young woman around Nagumo's age greets them at the counter. She's wearing a cat paw-print apron that Nomoto immediately covets, before she's distracted by a black and white bundle skidding across the floor in front of her.
The cafe is a scene from a dream. The furnishings are creams and pastels, and stacks of boxes, cat trees and scratching posts stretch from floor to ceiling. Large cakes of every flavour, protected under giant glass cloches, are laid out on the counter. Most importantly, there are cats everywhere; lounging in chairs and hammocks, racing across the floor, and playing with the hundreds of toys laid out for their entertainment.
The waitress leads them to a table and takes their orders - drinks for everyone, cake for Yako and Kasuga - and shows them a box of toys they can use to play with the cats. There are a few other groups of patrons, but three cats - introduced by the waitress as Panchan, Latte, and Kinako - scamper around to play with them, while a few older felines snooze nearby.
"Kinako is so cute!" Nagumo effuses, scratching the cat's chubby sandy-coloured cheek and being rewarded when it jumps onto her lap and presses its face into her hand, demanding more.
The greatest privilege of getting to know Nagumo, Nomoto thinks, is getting to see her come out of her shell. In the months since she moved into the middle apartment, seeing her grow from a shy recluse into a confident young woman makes Nomoto feel proud in ways she can't express.
"How did you know this place existed?" Yako asks, taking a bite of her cake.
"There are quite a few cat cafes around," Kasuga explains, "I picked this one because all the cats they have here are rescues."
"Rescues?" Nomoto asks, looking up from where Latte, a brown tabby with half a tail, is playing with a bundle of feathers attached to a stick.
"It means they didn't have homes before," Nagumo explains, "if someone moves house, or their circumstances change, they might abandon their cat."
"That's horrible!" Yako looks around and gestures at two cats curled up in a box together, gently grooming one another, "and how could anyone abandon cats like these?"
"I agree," Nagumo nods, "but if food or vet bills get too much some people see a pet as a burden rather than a member of the family."
From the corner of her eye, Nomoto catches Kasuga solemnly nodding at the word burden, and understanding dawns about Kasuga's reason for choosing this cafe specifically. Latte bats at the feathered stick, breaking her out of her thoughts, and Nomoto passes the toy to Kasuga so she can enjoy some cat-time as well.
Between them they discover that their cats’ favourite places to be scratched are, respectively: under the chin, behind the ears, and the lower back just above the tail. Nomoto is using this newfound knowledge to coax purrs from Panchan when the waitress returns to refresh their drinks.
"Can I have a slice of the lemon cake as well please?" Nagumo adds.
The cake arrives, and it's the first time Nomoto has seen her eat food outside of one of their houses. Though she tries not to stare or react in any way, Nagumo senses the unasked question.
"I'm not totally better yet or anything," she says, setting down her fork and stroking a purring Kinako, now cuddled up in the same chair. "At first I thought I could eat with you all not necessarily because my condition has improved but because you're like family to me now. But when I started my new job, as long as it's food I've prepared myself, I can eat with my coworkers."
"That's wonderful," Kasuga says, while Nomoto tries her absolute best to not cry in public. "We're really happy for you."
"Happy birthday!" Nomoto cheers, holding out a platter of macarons, each coloured, shaped and decorated to look like a cat face.
"Aaaah, they're so cute!" Nagumo says, eyes lighting up as she looks over the selection, picking a yellowish cat with green eyes. "This one looks just like Kinako! Thank you so much!"
Yako selects a tricolour cat, "this looks exactly like the cat an ex-girlfriend of mine used to own."
"I also bought this!" Nomoto brandishes a bag of yellow kernels.
Yako examines the bag. "Is that popcorn? Can you really just make that stuff?"
"Absolutely,” Nomoto nods, “I thought we could make some here - I've got some sauces and toppings I thought might be fun, but if you think of anything you'd like to try we can make it!"
Nagumo helps Nomoto lift their biggest pan onto the burner and watches intently as Nomoto pours a generous layer of oil. "Once it's hot enough we can put the kernels in. But first let's put a couple in to test."
Nagumo dutifully picks three kernels out of the bag and puts them into the heating oil. Leaving them to cook, Nomoto produces one small bowl after another, setting them down on the coffee table between the sofa and the large television. "Cinnamon sugar, ginger powder, Korean pepper, sweet soy sauce..."
The tester kernels on the stove begin to pop, so Nomoto measures out two generous cups of corn and tips them onto the hot oil, then seals the pan with a lid.
"Sena, you should choose what movie to watch," Yako says, offering her phone.
Nagumo startles slightly, unprepared for such a big decision. "I-I don't mind. Honestly, I just wanted to spend time with you all."
"I can cast to the television from my phone - I've got a ton of movies on my account, pick whatever you like."
Nagumo scrolls the phone tentatively. "The choice is a bit overwhelming..."
"Is there a genre you like? I've got comedy, anime, LGBT-"
"Is that a film genre?" Kasuga asks.
Yako grins, "It is on my database."
"Ooh," Nomoto chimes in from behind the kitchen counter, "do you have that Vietnamese one you tweeted the trailer for last week?"
"You better believe I do! What do you think, Sena? Lesbian historical drama?"
Nagumo's cheeks tinge with a blush and she nods. "Sure."
The pan suddenly erupts like a firecracker and Nagumo is summoned to help divide the popcorn into bowls as Yako and Kasuga set up the television. The new sofa just seats four - Nomoto happily cuddles up to Kasuga, who holds hands with her left hand and munches through her bowl of soy sauce-pepper-popcorn with her right.
When the film finishes Yako disconnects her phone from the television and the channel clicks to a late-night NHK rerun of My Neighbour Totoro, which they leave playing in the background. Yako and Nagumo insist on helping with cleaning up before they leave, and Nomoto bags up what remains of the macarons and tells Nagumo she must take them home. Nagumo gives them both a hug in the doorway, thanking them for the best birthday she can remember.
Nomoto goes to finally turn the television off, but the film has reached the famous bus stop scene and she can't bring herself to stop it, instead watching and letting the nostalgia wash over her. Kasuga, halfway through preparations for bed, walks over to join her.
"I love this movie. I used to watch it all the time when I was younger; I thought something was wrong with me for still cherishing all these childish things while my friends were getting boyfriends."
Kasuga has changed into her pyjamas, a simple grey long-sleeved top with matching grey bottoms. She draws an arm around Nomoto, whose gaze alternates between the screen and Kasuga's face.
"I used to want a friend like him - strong but gentle. Calming and kind."
Nomoto leans into Kasuga and lifts her head to press a kiss to her flushed cheek. "My neighbour Totoko."
Nomoto has had roommates before; she lived with friends throughout college, even shared a room with a visiting cousin for a year while they were growing up, but there was always a transience to the arrangements, an understanding that things would come to an end and someone would move on. She knows it was never anything personal - thanks in part to her cooking her roommates were often reluctant to leave - but circumstances like jobs, family responsibilities and boyfriends meant that everyone left eventually.
Nomoto thought it might take some time to get used to the permanence of their new home, but she instead finds herself wondering how she lived without it. Naturally, renting and living between paychecks means some things are outside of their control, but the commitment they've made together gives Nomoto a sense of belonging that she can't remember having since childhood.
She checks their mail on the way into the building. Next to their apartment number on their postbox is written, in her own handwriting, Kasuga and Nomoto.
"Is this what being a family is?" she wonders aloud.
Her phone pings as if in response, and there's a new message from Kasuga, her profile updated in her contacts as Totoro. [Salmon was on a good deal at the supermarket so I bought some - can have tonight or freeze for later. Bought some sake to go with it.] The message ends with a sticker from Nomoto's favourite set, a waving shiba saying 'see you soon!'.
They make sashimi rice bowls and cook the remaining salmon with mirin for lunch tomorrow, and Nomoto's certain she's never felt more settled.
Once everything from their meal has been washed and put away, they head to bed, deciding on an early night after hectic work weeks and, in Kasuga's case, an unwelcome-but-tolerable office party on Thursday.
"Totoko?" Nomoto asks, putting down her phone where she's been bookmarking recipes for the coming week. Next to her, Kasuga puts down her own phone to give Nomoto her full attention.
"I've been wondering... do you like animals? We haven't really discussed it. I know you don't fawn over cute things the same way I do, but you seemed to like the cats before."
"Animals..." Kasuga thinks deeply. "When I was growing up, my maternal grandmother had a dog, an akita. I think she was meant to be a guard dog, but she was always very friendly."
Nomoto nods, hoping for a positive story from Kasuga's childhood.
"She lived a few towns over; my mother's family was originally from the area, but we didn't see her or my mother's side of the family very often. I used to look forward to whenever she would visit, or we would visit her - I liked her well enough, but I loved seeing her dog most of all. My grandmother let me take her out for walks sometimes, when I got old enough that she wouldn't pull me over."
Nomoto can't help imagining a small Kasuga being led on a walk by a dog only slightly smaller than herself. The image is so cute she buries her head in her hands.
"Yuki? Are you alright?"
"Fine!" she insists, snapping back to attention. "I'm sorry - please continue."
"Well... I used to love those walks; I'd stay out for as long as my father permitted. But my grandmother passed away when I was in middle school, and I think the dog ended up being taken in by one of her neighbours. I begged my mother to let us take her in, but my father said no, that we couldn't afford it, so that was the end of it."
Not for the first time, Nomoto wishes she could somehow go back in time and protect Kasuga - if not from her oppressive family, from the loneliness they caused. In the present, Nomoto reaches for Kasuga's hand and rubs circles with her thumb.
"I was thinking... you know those cats at the cafe? There's places that take in dogs as well, right?"
"Mmm." Kasuga nods.
"We have this place now, and my job's a bit more flexible. Please don't let me pressure you into anything, and maybe it's too soon, but I've been thinking maybe it would be nice to get a pet?"
Kasuga is quiet for a long moment, deep in thought. "We would have to check logistics and finances, but I think it's a good idea."
"I can check our contract and see if pets are allowed... we know our landlord is more accommodating than most. Not that I'm getting my hopes up!"
They discuss plans for a little longer, Kasuga gently grounding Nomoto's excitement, before the week's exhaustion finally wins and they fall asleep; Nomoto cuddling her spotted cushion, Kasuga's arms wrapped around her.
"Totoko!" Nomoto whispers excitedly into her phone during her mid-morning break, huddled at the far end of a corridor.
"Is everything alright?" Kasuga sounds a little alarmed, and Nomoto realises perhaps this information could have been sent via text but her excitement got the better of her.
"Please don't worry," she reassures, "everything's great! Our landlord replied to my message! He said as long as we pay an extra deposit and the dog is small, we can have a pet!"
"I'm pleased." Nomoto can hear the smile in her voice, but also the noise of other people talking in the background.
"Are you at work right now? I'm sorry! I wanted to tell you in person but I couldn't wait."
"It's alright, I stepped away when you called. I should probably get back, but thank you for letting me know."
Two hours later, she's halfway through her lunch, a joint effort of sweet potato curry she'd made the previous night, and salted mackerel rice balls made this morning by Kasuga. Lunch somehow tastes better knowing that Kasuga, somewhere out on her delivery round, will be eating the same lunch - though a bigger portion, naturally. She doesn't realise she's tapping her feet against the wheels of her office chair until she notices Sayama watching her with a cheeky grin.
"What's got you in such a good mood?" Sayama asks, rolling her chair over to Nomoto's desk.
Nomoto pauses in chewing her rice ball, not wanting to tempt fate by talking about her plans when there's still so many obstacles, but Sayama has always been such a support she can't help but tell her everything.
"A dog! That's so exciting!" Sayama squeals, drawing looks from around the office. She ducks her head apologetically before continuing more quietly, "and from a rescue shelter?"
Nomoto explains how they'd visited the cat cafe and things had spiralled from there.
"I'm so happy for you," Sayama says with a huge smile, and Nomoto feels tears of gratitude prick her eyes as she's truly thankful for her friend, "your family is growing already, huh?"
They've been running errands all day - laundry, groceries, shopping for new storage boxes for their shared closet - and Nomoto has one last important task she wants to tick off her to-do list. Dinner was simple soba, and to celebrate the days getting longer and warmer Nomoto has mixed herself a white wine spritzer, and a soda with lemon for Kasuga.
'NAME 1' says the online form. Nomoto types in her details.
'NAME 2 (if applicable)' says the next section. She doesn't hesitate as she enters Kasuga's information, then their address, and feels very proud of herself.
"I feel like I've come a long way from that first estate agent meeting," she says mostly to herself, but then turns to Kasuga, who is finishing washing the dishes. "It's all thanks to you."
Kasuga is wearing the salmon pink apron which used to belong to Nomoto but is now for general use in the flat. Nomoto loves the pop of colour on her and thinks she looks too cute for words; she wonders if this is how Kasuga feels when she borrows her sweatshirts. Kasuga blushes a little, and it's unclear if it's from Nomoto's praise or appreciative looks.
"I haven't really done anything..."
Nomoto won't stand for that. She pushes the tablet aside so she can give Kasuga her full attention, trying her best to put intangible feelings into words because Kasuga deserves to hear them. "It's not just confidence about applications and things... it sounds silly, but I feel like I'm really who I am and where I'm meant to be now, you know? It's like... I remember thinking before I met you that my cooking wasn't living its best life without somebody to fully appreciate it, and I guess I wasn't either. Back then, without you, I didn't know anything about this part of me."
In the kitchen, Kasuga stands stock-still, midway through drying the pot of the rice cooker, eyes focused fully on Nomoto. Nomoto takes a fortifying gulp of her drink and continues.
"For as long as I can remember it felt like there was a kind of barrier between me and everyone else; I still had friends and family so I tried not to let it bother me. But it feels like the barrier's lifted, and everything that was muted before is bright and colourful now. Does that make sense?"
Kasuga nods. Hands trembling, she sets the pot and towel down on the counter. "I do know what you mean. Sometimes I feel so happy it scares me."
Nomoto’s eyes widen. That wasn't the word she was expecting. "Scares you?"
"Sometimes it feels like I shouldn't be allowed to be this happy. When I left home my dream was to make an independent life for myself, and I achieved that and I was content. Then I met you, and... this is more than I ever imagined for myself."
Kasuga's shoulders are hunched and her head is bowed and Nomoto's least favourite thing in the world is seeing the woman she loves trying to make herself small.
"I know my father can't make me go back. But sometimes I feel like one day I'll wake up and be back in that house."
Without making a conscious decision, Nomoto stands, strides the three paces between them and wraps her arms tightly around Kasuga. "You deserve all of this," she says, tears spilling over and running freely into Kasuga's sweatshirt, "and nobody will ever make you go back there. This is where you belong, and even if it takes time to totally accept that, it's okay."
Kasuga stands still, her deep, measured breathing the only indication that she's as emotional as Nomoto. She brings her arms around Nomoto to hug her back and it makes Nomoto hold her even tighter, desperately grateful for the physical reassurance.
"Thank you. It's something I'm feeling less and less, but I was afraid to tell you because I didn't want you to think I was unsure or ungrateful."
"I always want you to tell me how you're feeling," Nomoto assures, "especially if it's something you're worried about."
Nomoto has met Ms Sakaki before over video call when she conducted a home check ahead of their visit to the shelter, but she’s taller in person than she expected, taller even than Kasuga. Like Kasuga, she has an aura of kindness that helps put Nomoto at ease.
"After we spoke on the phone, there was one dog in particular that I thought might be a good fit for you," Sakaki says, bringing them through a set of double doors and into a large room fitted with a dozen partitioned kennels with doors set into a tall chain-link fence. It's noisy, and the smell of dog fur is strong, but it's clean and warm and Nomoto buzzes with anticipation. A trio of chihuahua siblings tussle over a squeaky toy in one section, while an ageing, silver-haired samoyed watches warily from another.
Sakaki leads them to a kennel where a small red-brown dog is curled tightly up on a soft, well-worn bed. On hearing their approach one ear, then another, pops out of the ball, and as the door is unlocked the dog unfurls and cautiously gets to its feet.
"Yuki," Kasuga says quietly, "it's your dog."
Nomoto instantly knows what she means. The red shiba that she's loved since childhood, an abstract avatar, given corporeal form here in this small, out-of-the-way rescue centre.
"You mentioned you'd prefer someone small because you live in the city," Sakaki explains, "she's quiet and well-behaved, but very shy."
"She's so cute," Nomoto says, using every piece of self-control to hold back from squealing or flailing or anything else that would startle the dog, "has she been here long? I can't imagine anyone not wanting to adopt her right away."
"I don't want to put undue pressure on you to adopt this particular dog," Sakaki says, "but she's been here a while because lots of people can't adopt her."
"How do you mean?" Kasuga asks.
Sakaki glances around momentarily before saying in one big breath, "She's afraid of men. She can't go to a home that has, or at some point might have, an adult or adolescent male in it. We think she may have been previously owned by an abusive man; she startles at any male potential adopters, and she's been here for months and she's still terrified of my husband."
"Months?" Nomoto says, looking up from where the dog is tentatively sniffing at them but isn’t moving any closer.
"Some of our dogs - puppies, usually - get adopted almost immediately, some stay for months or even years."
Nomoto gazes from the dog's big brown eyes up into Kasuga's. "Totoko..."
Sakaki looks between them. "I can leave you alone to discuss if you'd like?"
"What's the next step in the process?" Kasuga asks. They're sitting opposite Sakaki in a small room away from the kennel area, and Nomoto is reminded of their interviews to be permitted to rent their flat. Nerves creep in; she's terrified of getting rejected at this crucial step, but Kasuga's steadfast presence next to her quells her anxiety.
"We recommend getting everything ready, then taking her home for a two-week trial period, then meeting with us to discuss how it's going. Does that sound alright with you?"
"Absolutely!"
"We've nicknamed her Tama because of her tendency to curl into a ball," Sakaki explains, "but you can give her a new name if you like."
"Can we do that?" Kasuga asks, "are you sure she won't mind?"
"No - in fact, in some cases a new name can be a good thing, because it allows a dog to build up positive associations in a new place with a new name."
"Positive associations..." Nomoto repeats, deep in thought.
There's some papers to sign and a small fee to pay - half now, half on formal adoption - and a shopping list of things they're going to need for their family's newest addition.
Nomoto adds two cobs of corn to the pan of boiling water where she's also cooking eggs for this evening's dinner. Pork cutlets sizzle in a second pan, and their large rice cooker fills the air with the comforting smell of warm, fresh rice. Tama crouches at the edge of the kitchen area and whines.
"I feel bad that we're having a delicious meal like this and poor Tama only gets boring kibble." Nomoto sighs, unable to look away from the dog's pitiful face. Tama has been at their house for less than a week and already rules the place, neither of them able to resist her big brown eyes. The list of casualties is long - multiple pairs of slippers, a side dish of rice left unattended for a moment, a plush toy of Nomoto's left on a too-low shelf - but every transgression is easily forgiven.
Kasuga looks at all the food cooking away. "Is there a part of this that she can eat?"
"Great idea!" Nomoto grabs her phone, "can you keep an eye on the cutlets for a moment please?"
Tama winds her way through and around Nomoto's legs as she taps and scrolls away. Finally, after confirming across four different sites for safety, she turns back to Kasuga.
"Boiled eggs, as an infrequent treat, are not only okay for dogs, but rich in beneficial nutrients!" she explains. "It will mean one less egg for us though."
Kasuga nods. "I don't mind if it's for Tama."
Since Nomoto first brought up the idea, a niggling worry that she may have been steamrolling the whole dog-adoption situation has been bothering her; that Kasuga may have been going along with Nomoto's wishes at the expense of her own, despite Kasuga's assurances to the contrary.
Nomoto knows that, of the two of them, she's always the more demonstrative, wearing her emotions on her sleeve, unable to stop herself laughing or crying even if she wants to. She knows that Kasuga's lack of expressiveness doesn't mean she feels anything less deeply, and that while saying what she feels isn't easy, she makes such an effort to communicate through her words and actions that Nomoto feels more loved than she ever thought possible.
The action of giving up an egg? Like a weight being lifted from her shoulders, Nomoto feels as sure as anything that Kasuga loves the new addition to their household as much as she does.
According to Nomoto's research, it's better to wait until all the people have finished eating before giving human food to the dog, so once they've finished and cleaned up Kasuga carefully peels the egg, cuts it into chunky slices, and puts it into the dog bowl. Tama dives at the bowl and devours it in two chomps.
"She loves it as much as you do." Nomoto says, watching adoringly.
After dinner, dishes, and a bath, Nomoto and Kasuga settle back in the main room, the television playing a cooking show quietly as Kasuga dries her hair. Tama, who normally does not enjoy the noise of the hairdryer one bit, is curled up fast asleep at Nomoto's feet.
Nomoto pours herself half a can of beer left from dinner and gazes down at Tama. "I wonder if she'll be this tired all the time? Do you think it's normal?"
"It was probably noisy most of the time in the shelter," Kasuga says, and Nomoto can't help but feel reassured, "and she's had such a big adjustment."
"I was thinking about names," Nomoto says, "and about earlier. What do you think about changing it a little? I thought Tamago might be a nice name."
"Tamago..." Kasuga echoes.
Nomoto blushes, fiddling with her glass, "I thought a food name would be cute."
Tamago twitches in her sleep, paws chasing an imaginary ball.
"It is cute. I like it."
There's a small, quiet park, essentially an empty grassy lot framed with a sandy walking path, opposite their apartment, which is perfect for taking Tamago out for the toilet, a stretch and a sniff around in the early morning or late at night. For a more substantial walk, they've researched three local parks that permit dogs of Tamago's size, and selected one to visit at the weekend.
Saturday dawns sunny and warm, so after cuddles in bed and a slower, more involved breakfast than weekdays allow, they head out. It takes some encouragement, but Tamago eventually hops into her carrier and Kasuga drives them the short distance to the park.
The season for plum and cherry blossom has long passed, but the borders of the park are azalea bushes in full bloom. Trellises heavy with wisteria twist overhead, and the scent of roses from the beds in the centre of the park carries on the breeze to where they're trying to steer clear of the busiest areas for Tamago's first proper walk. Some young people are playing music Nomoto doesn't recognise on a portable speaker, and there's a rhythmic thunk-thunk from the nearby tennis courts. Despite the abundance of stimuli Tamago behaves very well, only pulling on her leash to get to the most interesting smells on the trees and streetlights.
"We could bring a picnic next time," Nomoto suggests, delighted at how well things are going, "we could invite the others and I could make bento boxes for us!"
“You are a genius,” Kasuga says fondly, accompanied by a smile that never fails to make Nomoto feel all fluttery.
Distracted by each other, neither woman notices a group of male runners approaching until Tamago startles, darting away with such force that Nomoto nearly lets go of her leash. The men jog past, oblivious, and as Nomoto stands stunned for a moment, battling guilt and anger, Kasuga crouches next to where Tamago is cowering with her tail and ears pointed down, and talks to her in her calm, soothing voice. Tamago must find Kasuga as reassuring as she does, Nomoto thinks, as Tamago’s ears slowly perk back up to their regular alert position. Kasuga produces a biscuit from her jacket pocket and all anxiety vanishes as Tamago snaps it up.
Nomoto's always had a weakness for cute things. Her mother would often express frustration at her clinging to the trappings of childhood - picture books, stuffed animals, items with colourful patterns over practicality - while her peers apparently moved on to more appropriate pastimes. Seeing the woman she loves kneeling to have a one-sided conversation with their frolicking shiba pup is so cute that Nomoto's brain nearly short-circuits.
Kasuga catches her staring. Her expression changes from concern to self-consciousness as she realises Nomoto's gaze is wholly appreciative. Nomoto offers her a hand up and she wishes they weren't in public so she could pull her into a kiss.
A yap breaks her out of her daze; a spitz, so white and fluffy that it looks more like a cloud with a face than a dog, is scampering around Tamago, hoping to play. After her recent fright Tamago baulks at the stranger, hiding behind Nomoto's legs.
"Come on, Rina." Nomoto looks up to see the dog's owners, two fashionably dressed older men, walking towards them. Tamago, calmed by Kasuga and safely behind her owner, doesn't overreact to their presence, and the taller of the pair gives them a smile and a knowing nod as they pass. Kasuga nods in response, and Nomoto, not wanting to be rude, bows as well.
"Do you know that man?" she asks when they're out of earshot.
"No," Kasuga says, "I think he might have recognised us. As a couple."
A few seconds pass. Then - "Oh!" Nomoto exclaims, eyes wide with realisation. "How did he know? Are they-? A-and is that the done thing? Did you know about this?"
"Yuki, it's okay," Kasuga reassures, gently taking Tamago's leash so Nomoto can stress with both hands.
"Do you think Yako knows about this? She's never said anything-"
Kasuga guides them to a bench where they sit while Tamago sniffs around. Even in public, and despite her anxiety, Nomoto's body instinctively leans towards Kasuga's, like the flowers on their strawberry plant arcing towards the sun.
"I guess I'm so used to everyone assuming..." Nomoto collects her scattered thoughts, "that a stranger could tell like that was a surprise."
As if sensing her heightened state, Tamago circles around and rests her chin on Nomoto’s knee, her tail thumping the ground as Nomoto strokes a gentle line from the top of her head down along her muzzle to her nose.
"I think,” Kasuga says slowly, “if it’s someone recognising because they’re in the same situation, you probably don’t need to worry.”
"I was so worried we might get rejected by the shelter because we're both women," Nomoto says thoughtfully, her eyes on Tamago as she repeats the long stroking motion, "but we're essentially the only kind of household that could have adopted her."
"I do think it's best to be straightforward and honest," Kasuga says wisely.
Tamago, bored of petting and satisfied with all nearby smells, tugs on her leash to encourage them to continue the walk.
“You’re right,” Nomoto agrees as they resume their stroll around the park, “and thank you for taking care of me.”
"Totoko!" Nomoto calls out from their ground-floor balcony. Kasuga, halfway through putting away laundry, drops Nomoto's half-folded shirt on the bed and hurries outside, Tamago hot on her heels.
"Yuki! Are you alright?"
"Look!" Nomoto points to their strawberry plant, which has been growing exponentially since their move to their new flat with its south-facing balcony. The berries have been expanding day by day, swelling and reddening in the summer sunshine. As Nomoto lifts up the plant's leaves, the berries at the top of the plant look ripe and ready to eat. "What do you think?"
"Let me go and get a bowl for them," Kasuga says, and heads to their kitchen, selecting one of Nomoto's bowls with a fruit pattern around the edge.
As they pick the berries, Nomoto thinks back to when they planted them together, at the very beginning of their relationship. She thinks about how much has changed, but how some things have stayed the same, and most of all how she wants to grow these berries every year forever.
"We could make the pies again of course, but it might be nice to make a cake, or a mousse, or crepes, or even make some lemonade or save it and make a jam...." Nomoto's face flushes as all the options swirl around. Then, getting the better of her own enthusiasm, she turns to Kasuga. "What would you like to make with these?"
"I hadn't really thought about it," Kasuga says, "I'm happy with whatever you decide."
Nomoto considers for a moment, then tries a different angle. "When you went with your mother before, what did you make with the strawberries you picked?"
Kasuga smiles, like she knows exactly what Nomoto's doing, but loves her for it. "We made puddings."
"How's my favourite couple?" Yako asks, taking off her shoes and handing over a bag of assorted drinks in one motion, "I brought some rum you're going to love, and Sena's got some mixers - I thought we could make cocktails!"
"We also brought a mint," Nagumo says, offering a small plant with deep green leaves.
"Aaah, thank you so much!" Nomoto effuses, taking both.
"Is this the girl I've been hearing so much about?" Yako asks as Tamago, a little wary of the commotion and two strangers, steps tentatively towards her. Yako's not exaggerating - Nomoto's made an entire separate social media account for Tamago pictures as, by sheer volume, they were going to eclipse her cooking ones. The Curry Party chat has not been spared.
"We wanted to invite you over sooner, but we didn't want too many new things at once to upset her," Nomoto says apologetically.
"Some things have to happen gradually." Nagumo says wisely.
"She'll warm up to you if you give her a treat," Kasuga opens and offers a jar filled with small bone-shaped biscuits and they each take one, "It's easiest for her to take them if you hold them out flat in your hand like this."
Yako is confident with dogs and delights when Tamago, after demolishing the offered biscuit, sticks her nose into Yako’s cardigan pockets to search for more. Nagumo is more hesitant but bravely holds her hand out, barely flinching when Tamago descends.
"Her tongue is so smooth," she says in surprise, "compared to a cat's, I mean."
Having won each other over, Nagumo and Tamago play gently together with a tug-rope toy in the living area while Kasuga assists Yako with mojito-making.
"Your place is sooo nice in the summer," Yako says, leaning back on the sofa and basking as sun streams in through the south-facing window. The window is wide open and the smell of grilled corn in sweet soy sauce drifts through the air. In the kitchen area, in addition to the corn, Nomoto has prepared a radish salad with cold tofu, ginger and flakes of bonito. After washing her hands, Nagumo helps carry the dishes to the table as Kasuga sets out placemats and chopsticks for four.
“That reminds me!” Yako says suddenly, rummaging through her handbag for a small giftwrapped box. As they all gather around the table, she presents it to Nomoto.
"You already brought drinks-"
“Think of it as a late housewarming gift,” she says, “or an on-time housewarming gift for Tamago.”
Nomoto unwraps and opens the box, then squeals at the contents; a pair of shiba-shaped chopstick rests, one in Tamago's colouring, the other black and tan. Nomoto immediately swaps out her usual bear-shaped chopstick rest for the red shiba.
“These are really thoughtful,” Kasuga says, setting the other rest out for herself, “thank you so much.”
Yako waves the praise away and picks up her chopsticks. "Thank you for the food!"
After the delicious main course, Nomoto retrieves four strawberry puddings from the refrigerator, each a pastel pink and decorated with flowers of piped whipped cream and fresh strawberry halves. She delicately moves them onto individual plates, adds a leaf from the new mint plant to each, and brings them over, snapping a picture for social media and her own memories.
"I feel like I say this about all your food, Nomoto," Yako says, lifting up her pudding to admire it from every angle, "but it looks almost too good to eat."
"It's the worst when things are in the shape of cute animals," Kasuga says, and Nomoto suspects she's being teased, "I feel so guilty."
"It's made to be eaten!" she assures, "to be shared and enjoyed."
As they dig in, Nomoto thinks about how meals alone feel like a distant memory; how unsolicited comments from men online and in-person once made her feel small and ashamed. She sips her drink and watches her family around the table laughing and enjoying the food she made. She watches Kasuga scoop a heaped spoonful of pudding and thinks how she could watch her eat for the rest of her life.
Tamago looks up at her, and Nomoto sneaks her the last strawberry from the table.