Page 4 of The Vanishing Cherry Blossom Bookshop

Her mother was not the type of person to admit her shortcomings in front of others .

If she had said to Mio that she appreciated all the things Mio had done for the family, even just once, perhaps their relationship would have turned out differently.

But by the time Mio realised it, a wall had already formed between them.

Then, there was the incident that happened towards the end of Mio’s high-school years.

During their first meeting with Mio’s homeroom teacher to discuss her career path, her mother bluntly announced that, if Mio was to choose to go to university, she would not cover her tuition fees, and that if she were to move out, she would not support her financially.

After that, the rift between Mio and her mother grew wider.

Since there were no universities within commuting distance of her home, Mio felt as if she were trapped.

This ignited her rebellion against her mother.

Fortunately, Mio had maintained good grades, and so her teacher encouraged her to go to university.

Although she was a little worried about leaving Yoshihiro, he was now in his sixth year of elementary school and didn’t need as much looking after as before.

A part of her felt as though she was slowly suffocating at home, and she longed to escape.

In the end, Mio chose to go to university on a scholarship. Her mother didn’t oppose her decision.

So began her first experience living on her own. She moved into a room in a female-only hall of residence designated for students on scholarships. The fees were affordable, and the meals were included. At last, Mio could make time for herself – a luxury she had never known before.

Aside from the minimal hours she spent working at her part-time job, Mio dedicated most of her time outside of class to drawing.

She was grateful to have found like?minded friends, both at university and in her hall of residence.

Her friends were far more experienced than her when it came to drawing manga.

They taught her all sorts of specialised skills and knowledge, such as how to use screentones and G-pens, as well as other techniques that were new to her.

Eventually, they became friendly rivals, making submissions and entering the same competitions together.

In the summer of her fourth and final year at university, Mio’s debut as a professional manga artist was confirmed.

The days that followed flew by. The first person she wanted to share the news with was her mother.

When she called her, her mother said congratulations, then promptly proceeded to say that while it was up to Mio if she wanted to find a job or pursue a career as a manga artist, she absolutely had to make sure that she finished university first. Did you have to say that now?

thought Mio. Still, she could tell that her mother cared about her in her own way, and that was one of the reasons she continued to work so hard to earn her degree.

When her serialised manga took off, her friends from university and her publisher introduced her to some aspiring artists around the same age as her, and they became her assistants.

Whenever a deadline was imminent, Mio and her assistants would work round the clock together.

With three or four of them staying in her studio, it felt as though they were on a school trip.

After pulling an all-nighter, the team would often get caught in that tired and wired state.

They would make each other try out all sorts of silly poses that they couldn’t achieve with an artist’s mannequin, like lying on their stomachs and pulling their legs up from the knees down.

One of them would say something like ‘Let me study the angle of the nose and the chin during a kiss,’ and the room would fill with giddy laughter.

Sipping on energy drinks, they would joke around and crack each other up until, suddenly, they’d fall asleep as though their batteries had run out.

But now, some of Mio’s comrades had begun to drop out.

One of them said that she had run out of things she wanted to portray, and another had effectively retired after having a child, choosing to prioritise her family.

Perhaps it wasn’t entirely accurate to say that they had dropped out, but Mio couldn’t bring herself to think that they had moved on.

The latter made her feel like she had been left behind, and that thought filled her with sadness.

Before she knew it, Mio had grown distant with her mother and her brother.

Years – decades – slipped by, with Mio visiting home just once a year, if not less.

When she was a student, she never imagined Yoshihiro would get married ahead of her.

Yet in reality, her nephew was born long before Mio ever thought about kids.

She had to admit she felt a little uncomfortable when she was introduced to him as his ‘aunt’, but thinking about it now, she felt ever so grateful to her brother and his wife for giving her mother a grandchild.

Mio had heard from Yoshihiro that her nephew was now attending a local school in Africa, and that he was already fluent in English.

* * *

Somehow managing to finish the necessary paperwork, Mio temporarily returned to Tokyo to work on the next chapter of her serialised manga.

But no matter what she did, she couldn’t get the narrative rolling.

It was as though her mind had stalled, like there was an invisible wall blocking her way.

The next thing she knew, the once winter-barren streets were dotted with bursts of green, reminding her that the change of season arrived earlier in the city.

She had heard that there was a time when Tokyo was referred to as a desert or concrete jungle, but in reality, finding greenery in the city was never that difficult.

Now, if only she could free the story in her mind from the wintry fog it seemed to be caught in.

It was around this time that Mio received a call – again, on her landline – from a man.

Judging from his surname, which he said was Oda, she guessed that he was related to her father.

Indeed, he introduced himself as her cousin.

His name was Fumiaki, and he was the son of her father’s older brother.

‘I only found out about your mother – Hiroko-san – just the other day. I wasn’t sure if I should get in touch, but I decided to try giving you a call.’

Her cousin had the voice of an elderly man, likely closer to her mother’s generation.

As they spoke, she learned that he had attended her father’s funeral.

He told her that Mio was in her junior-high-school uniform at the time, but she had no recollection of meeting him.

After her father’s death, Mio had no contact with his side of the family, and besides, she had so many household responsibilities that she wouldn’t have had the time to see them even if she’d wanted to.

Fumiaki insisted that they meet, saying that there was something he wanted to talk to her about.

Since Mio had already planned on returning to her hometown around the 49th-day memorial to sort out her mother’s belongings and handle her tenancy contract, she suggested that they meet then.

When he gave her his contact details, Mio learned that he lived in a neighbouring city, right next to her hometown.

For all those years, he had lived so close to her family, yet she had never even heard of him.

Why was that? In fact, now that she thought about it, her mother had not received so much as a New Year’s greeting card from anyone with the surname Oda.

After a great deal of hesitation, Mio finally asked her publisher if she could take a two-month break from her manga series.

Take all the time you need, her editor said, you just lost your mother.

During this conversation, Mio was updated on the plagiarism saga – it seemed that the accuser was showing no signs of backing down.

Insisting that she hadn’t done anything wrong, Mio tried to reassure her editor that there was nothing to worry about.

But deep down, a sense of unease lingered, one she couldn’t seem to shake.

Mio was determined to put everything in order during this trip to her hometown.

She would sort through her mother’s flat, make arrangements for her grave, and terminate the tenancy contract.

At the same time, she couldn’t help but feel that once she had completed these tasks, whatever remained of her mother would be completely erased from this world.

But if this were true, there was no one more suited for the job than Mio – after all, she was her daughter.

Naturally, she would have liked Yoshihiro to join her, but she understood that it was difficult for him to fly back.

She had been giving him updates over email instead.

They’d agreed that Mio would decide what to discard, and if there were any items she couldn’t make up her mind about, she would hold on to those.

So here she was, back in her hometown again. This time, she had brought along a sleeping bag – she had come prepared to spend several nights.

Having arrived late in the evening, Mio decided to spend her first night at a hotel near the station. The next morning, she took a taxi straight to her mother’s flat.