Page 5 of A Serving of Hope

“Actually,” replied Kenichi quietly, meeting her gaze, “I want to taste the soup she made me on the morning of March twentieth, twelve years ago. The day I left Obuse.”

“Right. You would have been…eighteen? Can you tell me more?”

“My father hadn’t always struggled with his health. Something happened to make him that way.” Kenichi’s mouth tightened. Koishi leaned forward to listen. “A friend tricked him into taking on this huge debt. Before he knew what was happening, everything he owned had been seized. All that was left was our little house and a small part of the farm. I was still in middle school, so I only know what my mother told me. The shock seemed to break him. After that he was constantly ill.”

“How awful,” said Koishi in a gentle voice.

“When I finished middle school, my teacher told me, ‘Your poor father. If only he’d had a decent lawyer, none of this would have happened.’ That stuck with me. I decided right then that I’d become a lawyer someday. So I could help people with no one else to turn to.”

Koishi nodded earnestly. “You had plenty of motivation, then.”

“Honestly, up until then I’d been as lousy a student as they come. Being a lawyer seemed like a total pipe dream.”

“But once you got to high school, you threw yourself into your studies?”

Kenichi nodded. “Like my life depended on it. I surprised even myself. In the end I still had to take a year off before university to prep for the entrance exam, but I made it into the law faculty I wanted. My parents cried when I told them.”

“All your hard work paid off,” said Koishi, her eyes glistening slightly.

“Well, it turns out the world isn’t that simple. If I wanted to be a lawyer, I had to pass the bar after graduating—and year after year, I just…” Kenichi’s voice faltered.

“I’ve heard it’s pretty brutal,” said Koishi.

“That’s putting it mildly. Sometimes I just feel like it might be beyond me.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there in the end.”

“Actually, my grade this year was one of the worst yet,” said Kenichi, gnawing at his lip in frustration.

“So, you’re hoping your mom’s miso soup will remind you why you set out to become a lawyer in the first place?”

“Maybe…The truth is, I’m not really sure. Lately I’ve been wondering if it’s worth grinding myself down like this. Part of me thinks I should go back home and help out on the farm.”

“Sounds like a tough call. I wish I knew what to tell you.”

Kenichi sat up slightly. “If I can just taste that miso soup again, I feel like I’ll finally know what to do.”

“That makes sense. But if you want to eat that exact soup, I think our only option will be to ask your mother. No one else is going to know.”

“No. Please, anything but that. She’s sharp, you know. She’d see right through me. And then she’d tell me never to give up, like she always does.”

“Let me guess. You haven’t been back to Obuse once since you left at eighteen?”

“No. I made a promise to stay away until I became a lawyer, and my parents supported it.”

“Right. But they must miss you terribly. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope. It’s just me.”

“Your poor parents! If I was you, I’d be on the first train home this summer.”

“Every year, around Obon and the New Year, I have the same thought,” Kenichi admitted. “But I just can’t do it.”

“It’s sort of like a vow you’ve made, then?”

“Something like that. I’m not asking to come home covered in glory. I just can’t bear the thought of going back there without achieving what I set out to do.” Kenichi’s voice had dwindled to a murmur.

“Then maybe this miso soup really will be a turning point. We’ll have to track it down for you!”