Ryota crushed the cigarette on the tatami mat, then clasped the cigarette in his fist behind him as he got up.
Uncle Oji's wide eyes were fixed on Ryota. It couldn't be figured out whether Uncle was mad or neutral about Ryota smoking in the house.
'It would be better to shout at me than just stare at me blankly.' Unable to keep eye contact, Ryota dropped his head.
No matter how much he hated his Uncle and Aunt, he could not just smoke in the house in the daylight without caring about them. After all, they had the final right over his allowance. Also over the college money they had to pay as his guardians.
"I-I am sorry." Ryota could not believe he had apologized, it had been months since he had last said sorry. He expected loud screams of swear words and the usual insults of his parents and himself, but Uncle said nothing.
Ryota leaned down and collected the scattered pages off the floor and kept them in his Writer's Box, still waiting for an answer. Aunt's footsteps echoed in the silent hallway as he crossed to Ryota's room.
"What is in that bag?" finally, he said something.
Ryota looked at the bag lying in a corner of the room, then looked at Uncle. Aunt peeked from behind him, wearing a loose kimono just like him.
Then Uncle Oji continued, "Are you finally leaving the house?"
Ryota had considered himself to be on the bad side, but why did Uncle Oji have to use 'finally'?
Aunt frowned, then sniffed the air in the room. "What is this smell?" she asked.
Ryota clasped the cigarette in his fist. The warm sensation had vanished and now it was just a roll of paper. He rose from the floor, still afraid to look at them.
'This is it.' Ryota gulped his throat was dry. 'He would definitely tell his beloved wife about it.' The truth is, Ryota, somehow, thought Uncle Oji would keep smoking a cigarette a secret.
From the top corner of his eyes, Ryota took a look at the scene. Uncle turned to Aunt behind him and shrugged. "What smell? Ah, maybe this room smells because he has not cleaned it in years."
His eyes opened wide as he stared at Uncle in amazement. Uncle Oji must want something from Ryota, or he would just blackmail him now. But it only mattered less since he would be gone by then.
"Hm?" Aunt pulled her chin in. Then she saw the bag.
She might protest or she might kick him out. She might not give him his college money, or she might throw it in his face.
"Are you moving out?" she asked in an amused tone.
Ryota nodded. "And I want my college fees. I would not bother you again."
"Did you even get admitted with those grades? The only thing you did the whole year immersed yourself in literature. I bet you got good marks in Japanese."
"And English," Ryota added without any hesitation. Well, he had scored a hundred in both subjects. But only two subjects could not change his overall grade.
"Answer my question and do not try to act smart. What is the college? When did you even sit for the entrance exams?"
Uncle shook his head, leaning off the wall. "The admission dates must not even be out by now." Then he looked at Ryota. "Where are you going?"
He must not back down now. If he does, he will lose every chance to become what he could. "No. I am… I will not do college." He dropped his head, unable to look into Aunt's doting eyes as he said, "I will write a novel, so I am going to Okinawa."
As if he had introduced his girlfriend to a house where affairs were not allowed, Ryota's heart flip-flopped in his chest. Would his old-school Aunt accept his girlfriend or would his religious Uncle reject her? Then will they both scold him, beat him, then ground him for the rest of his life?
"That… has rotten your mind, you idiot." Aunt's voice told him that she had no intentions of getting angry or scolding him. Maybe she was guilty— no, no, never.
"The academics have rotted my mind. Just give me one year. Just a year and I will try. But if I fail to get published, I will come back and go to a—"
"Oh, no!" Aunt snapped. "No, no. Once you get the hell out of here, you aren't freaking coming back. If you leave now, our deal will end right here. Forget your mother even had a sister, you were supposed to be a burden until only eighteen."
Shocked, Uncle looked at Aunt. They exchanged glances and Uncle tried to convey something with his eyes. Ryota understood nothing, but many Aunt Oba did.
"No, Oji. He would not," she said. Then she looked at Ryota, her eyes could not hint any emotion. "So leave and do not come back. As a gift for being a burden on us, I will book your train and ship ticket."
Ryota stood frozen, his grip loosened and the cigarette dropped behind him. But he just kept on staring. "Are you sure? N-not kidding?"
Aunt's frown turned uglier – as if she had just talked to a man lying in the gutter. Heck, even a man lying on the street was too disgusting, a low-class, piece of shit for her.
"Give him his filthy money.' She turned to walk out of the room. "All of it," she added, then only her footsteps echoed down the hallway, then down the stairs.
Uncle kept staring at the staircase while Ryota dropped to the floor with a sigh. He was happy to get over it with as much less trouble as possible.
Uncle shrugged, then walked into the room and stopped over at Ryota. "Get up. We need to discuss your total money."
On hearing that, Ryota jumped off the floor. He patted his hands clean and looked at Uncle Oji, who was still indifferent.
"So… college fees for four years of whatever education you would have taken comes down to two-and-a-half-million yen if we take six-thousand-and-twenty-five-thousand the education fee of one year. Adding hostel costs and a monthly allowance for four years will bring the total to one million yen."
'So three-and-a-half-million in cash. Oh, damn. Wait— do they even have that kind of money?'
Uncle Oji was a government servant – a civil engineer. And Aunt Oba used to work at a call center. Even if they had saved money and invested in stocks or in Real Estate, would they manage to collect such an amount?
"I know what you are thinking," Uncle Oji said. "You do not have to worry about that. We have one million in the bank account, including savings. I will manage half a million from somewhere. I do not want to sell the stocks and Real Estate at the top of the Economy Bubble."
"Then what about the remaining two mill—"
"When you come back to Tokyo to get your novel published, or for a signing event, I will give you whatever money I could manage to get. I am sorry, but it will have to continue behind her back."
Ryota nodded. "Behind her back."
No one said anything. Ryota stared at Uncle Oji, and he stared back at Ryota. 'What is going on?' he wondered.
"Uh…" Ryota started.
Uncle Oji interrupted him, "I will transfer the money to your bank account. Be careful while spending it." He turned to leave the room but stopped in the doorway. Then without turning, he said, "Make sure you take your money hidden under the mats in the storage closet."
Ryota's heart skipped a beat. In just five minutes, his uncle had unraveled two of his secrets – one that he smokes, the second that he had kept his emergency money under the tatami mats in the storage closet.
"Just be careful in there. No one has bothered to clean it for ages. It has some antiques and lots of spiders. Best of luck with the spiders." Uncle Oji then climbed down the stairs.
Best of luck with the spiders. Maybe Uncle was scared of spiders. Ryota had never bothered to think about what his uncle and aunt loved to eat, to do, and what they fear.
Ryota chuckled. He wondered why Uncle Oji was so nice to him today. Or maybe he will tell her about the cigarette after giving him that fake hope. Pushing those thoughts aside, Ryota walked to the door.
He came down the stairs. The storage closet was under the staircase and Ryota was in front of it.