Kaju's Short Story

Literature Club Report - Special Edition

<Like a Bad Japanese Movie> by Kaju Nukumizu



The gloomy kitchen is enveloped by cold silence. The scene before my eyes reminds me of a Japanese movie I’ve watched somewhere, even though I can’t remember the title.

I make breakfast here alone every day at 6 AM.

Crack. I tore off the head of a dried fish and took out its organs.

Crack. After repeating it 10 times, I poured the dried fish into a pot with water.

I only made one dish when the soup was boiling. I cut my brother’s favorite raw ginger into slices and mixed them with sesame and vegetable leaves for a simple meal.

My brother and I have been living together for 10 years. This is an incredible duration in my eyes.

I continued with my routine as usual this morning.

-Even though this is my last day to live with my brother.



The clock points at 6:30 AM. Usually, my brother will sit next to the table and start reading newspapers at this time.

I was worried. With a tinge of anxiety, I quietly came to the corridor.

After opening the bedroom's sliding door, I saw my brother standing at the center of the room.

He already got changed. There’s a suitcase next to his foot.

“Nii-san, it’s time for breakfast.”

He nodded, so I returned to the kitchen and twisted the knob of the stove.

My brother entered the room with a newspaper. He turned on the TV and sat before the dining table.

He watched the news on TV as he paid attention to the newspaper. It was almost like he was checking the answers.

I have to make the miso soup during this time. The ingredient is just sliced tofu. The broth is red Hatcho miso.

Then, at 7 AM, the two of us have breakfast together. This is a habit we have never dropped for 10 years.

Not even during New Year. The two of us think this is pretty laughable.

Oh, I think there’s one time when we broke the promise. That was the only day.

The first time when my brother and I woke up under the same blanket.

I acted like a spoiled child who didn’t want to leave her bed. Then, my brother became my chef with his usual expression.

I thought he would be more or less not used to it. However, unexpectedly, I couldn’t believe he made a successful bowl of miso soup. So, we still had our breakfast at 7. From that day on, I’ve never stopped doing this piece of chores even once.

I watched the blue flame on the stove as I carefully adjusted the knob.

The water in the pot must not boil after pouring the dried fish into it. The rich broth must be carefully prepared before the sliced tofu is added. I also need to pay attention to twisting the knob on the stove to avoid overcooking.

A bowl of miso soup is done after 30 minutes.

My brother loves to hear the noises from me preparing breakfast.

-I prepared to turn off the stove as usual after sensing the heat from the tofu, yet my hands twisted the knob in the opposite direction.

-The blue flame burnt the bottom of the pot. The boiled tofu is spinning around inside.

I’ve never let my brother cook during these 10 years. Right now, all the time has turned into ingredients and melted into the miso soup- it’s a complicated feeling.

I suddenly raised my head. My brother is doing the questions in the newspaper.

For some reason, I feel like a total idiot. I quickly turned off the stove and added the usual MSGs.

The clock pointed at 7.

My brother and I sat face to face and started greeting the ever-unbroken morning during these 10 years.



He changed into his usual leather shoes at the entrance and took the suitcase.

The suitcase contains the 10 years my brother has spent here. Everything else is left at home.

He probably won’t come back ever again after leaving, right?

-Perhaps it’s better for us to keep our distance for now.

I can’t believe I’m bidding farewell to him for such a vague reason. Those words have been dragging on until this day.

My brother broke his long-maintained silence by quietly mumbling, “Will she be alright alone?”

He’s such a bad brother. He always makes his own decisions no matter what I say.

This is the first time I’ve realized my anger. I stared at him furiously, yet I saw the anxiety in his eyes.

After taking a deep breath, I put my palm on the slightly enlarged spot below my belly button and stroked it gently.

“It’s fine. It’s because I’m not alone.”

My brother is shocked. To that, I answered him with an innocent smile.



-We’ll always be together, nii-san.