MIRAI OF THE FUTURE

One by one, Kun, Mirai, and Yukko poked their heads out from the tropical garden, then crouched down so they wouldn’t be seen and sneaked toward the stairs. Careful not to make a sound, they infiltrated the dining room. Just like they had agreed, Kun approached Dad, who was immersed in a book with his back toward them, while Mirai headed for the dolls. Yukko rested his elbows on the table and pulled on the white gloves, then followed Mirai.

“Hmm, I see,” Dad murmured, still facing the bookshelf. Kun stood next to him.

“Daddy?”

“What?”

“Um, I…”

“What? What’s wrong? Why are you squirming like that?”

If Kun could get Dad to talk to him, it would distract him from the dolls and give Mirai and Yukko time to put them away.

Mirai slid on the other pair of white gloves and stood next to the dolls. Yukko edged over to the cabinet with his back to the wall like a secret agent, pulled a children’s chair toward himself, and spread the instructional pamphlet out on the seat. All his motions were brisk and efficient. As Mirai took down the little raised tray and platter, she glanced up at the dolls.

“They’re so pretty,” she whispered, enthralled by their beauty. She quickly came to her senses, however, and crept up the stairs to the living room. The essential objective of this mission was to pack the dolls into the cardboard boxes.

Meanwhile, Yukko moved aside the orange flowers to the left of the female doll and carefully lifted up the male doll with both hands.

Kun was still fidgeting indecisively.

“Um…”

“Oh, do you have to go?” Dad took a guess.

Kun glanced toward Mirai and shook his head. “It’s not that…”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I bet you do.”

“No I don’t.”

“Just tell me if you have to.”

Dad seemed particularly concerned about whether or not he had to use the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Yukko was intently comparing the diagram in the packing instructions with the actual male doll in his hand. According to the photograph in the book, the taillike decoration attached to the top of the man’s hat was removable. Yukko pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it back and forth.

“Just take this off, and…there we go.”

It popped right off.

He rested the tail on top of the photograph. Next, he looked for the part the pamphlet had labeled “scepter.” Aha, there it was! It was the thing in the doll’s right hand that looked like a board.

“Here we go.”

He pinched the flat wooden scepter, twisted, and popped it out of the doll’s hand.

As Mirai returned after putting away the raised platters in the cardboard box, she noticed Yukko and did a double take.

“Yukko, why are you taking everything apart over here?”

She wanted to loudly berate him, but obviously, she couldn’t. Instead, she waved both hands at him.

“Hmm? What?” Yukko fretted, looking back and forth between the male doll and Mirai. “I’m sorry! Oh dear…”

Flustered, he picked up the tail and pushed it back onto the doll’s hat. Mirai rushed over to him, opened her mouth wide, and hissed, “You don’t have to put it back on!”

“Ack…” Yukko shrank at the scolding. His timidity was typical of a pet dog.

Sensing the fuss going on behind his back, Dad paused.

“Hmm?”

Mirai and Yukko noticed his reaction in turn.

This emergency called for an immediate retreat. Panicked, Yukko started putting everything back where it had been, sweeping the pamphlet off the chair. The scepter was still there, but Yukko ignored it and returned the male doll to its original spot on the cabinet. As he did, though, his hand brushed a miniature paper lantern in the display.

Dad slowly turned toward the cabinet.

“Huh…?”

No one there. Everything looked the same as always, but for some reason, the paper lantern had tipped off balance and was rocking back and forth. It tumbled to the floor with a clatter.

“…”

Dad stared at it for a moment, then set his book down on the table and walked over to the cabinet. He picked up the lantern, put it back where it belonged, and sank into the children’s chair.

“Now, why would it fall over…?” Befuddled, he studied the lantern. No one else should have been there. Of course, he didn’t notice Mirai and Yukko desperately trying to squeeze under the table directly behind him.

Mirai stifled her breathing as best she could. She was so close to Dad that the slightest noise would likely alert him to her presence. Breaking out in a nervous sweat, she whispered to Yukko.

“He’s gonna notice us… Yukko, stop breathing…”

“What?!” Yukko raised his eyebrows at her unreasonable demand.

Dad gazed up at the ceiling as if lost in thought.

“Hmm. What could’ve caused it…?”

He looked to the right, still unable to come up with an answer.

“Huh?”

Then he looked down.

“What?”

The pamphlet was on the floor.

“What’s this?”

Shoot! Mirai’s panic took over, and she suddenly reached forward. The pamphlet disappeared from her father’s view.

“Hey!” he yelped. “What is going on here…?”

Slowly, he stood up and peered between his legs.

Under the table, Mirai had squeezed her eyes shut, but she cracked them open a tiny bit and looked to the side. Yukko was dripping nervous sweat and grimacing. Mirai closed her eyes again and tried to think of a way out, but nothing came to her.

She checked beside her again, and Yukko’s face was turning maroon from holding his breath. She closed her eyes even tighter.

Slowly, Dad started lowering his head.

“…!”

At that very instant, Mirai heard a voice.

“I gotta go!”

“Huh?”

Dad looked up in surprise and found Kun, hands on his thighs, wriggling back and forth.

“I gotta go right now!”

Dad was upright in a flash.

“Wait a second!”

“I can’t wait.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

Forgetting everything else, Dad grabbed Kun in his arms, dashed up the stairs, and tore through the bedroom to the bathroom. Yukko made sure he wouldn’t be seen, then crawled out from under the table, panting heavily.

“Ahh, I thought I was going to die!”

“Phew. Now’s our chance.”

The pair dived on the doll display.

With surprising speed, they transferred the golden folding screen, lanterns, little vase of cherry blossoms, and other components of the display into the cardboard box. Despite their urgency, they were as careful as possible, painstakingly brushing the dust off each item before wrapping it in paper. Finally, Mirai lovingly placed the girl doll inside the box. The only thing left to do was for Yukko to place the boy doll he was holding alongside her.

Just then, Mirai heard the sound of the toilet flushing, followed by an exchange between Dad and Kun.

“Can you dry your hands by yourself?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay.”

Mirai shut the top of the cardboard box, crouched down behind it, and covered her face with the feather duster. Yukko, still holding the male doll, spun around in search of a place to hide. Without a moment to spare, he flopped down on the floor under the low table in the living room.

Dad walked down from the bathroom and passed right by their respective hiding spots, but he didn’t notice them. He then continued down the stairs to the dining room and walked over to the bookshelf. A few minutes later, Kun came down the stairs into the living room.

“Didja do it?” he asked, hiking up his pants.

But…

Mirai spotted the boy doll in Yukko’s hand.

“Oh no!” she whisper-screamed, her mouth agape.

“What?”

“The scepter’s missing!”

She was right. The doll’s right hand was empty.

“What’s a scepter?”

“That thing it was holding that looks like a board,” Yukko said, searching frantically.

Mirai pressed her hands to her pale cheeks. Where could it have gone? It would be nearly impossible to find such a tiny thing at this point.

“What do we do? If the scepter isn’t in the box, it won’t count as being all put away,” she said.

“Um, is that it?” Kun asked.

“What?”

Kun pointed toward the dining room.

“Oh! That’s it!” Mirai whisper-shouted.

The scepter was stuck to Dad’s rear end as he stood in front of the bookshelf. It was dangling loosely, just barely hooked on his pants by a splinter.

Dad was facing away from them, reading a book.

Kun, Mirai, and Yukko poked their faces out from the far side of the dining table. They could see the scepter on his butt.

The three of them quietly inched forward.

Dad turned the page in his book.

They stopped. They held their breath. They slowly started forward again. Stealthily, still without breathing, they tiptoed in unison toward their tiny target.

Suddenly, Dad spun around toward his laptop.

“?!”

Instantly, Kun, Mirai, and Yukko froze, each with one foot in midair, quaking with nerves.

But Dad was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t seem to see them. He finished whatever he was doing on the laptop, then turned nonchalantly back to the shelf and returned the book to its place.

Kun, Mirai, and Yukko stood stock-still, balancing on one foot for a moment.

“…Pheeew.”

They exhaled deeply and slowly began advancing again.

Dad grabbed another book and flipped through it.

The trio took a very careful step toward the dangling scepter.

Without warning, Dad innocently scratched his rear end.

“!”

They froze again.

Scratching accomplished, his hand gravitated back to the book.

They watched for a moment, each with one foot raised.

“…Pheeew.” After another breath, they moved forward.

The scepter swayed back and forth.

Trepidatiously, covered in nervous sweat, Yukko reached toward it.

“…!”

Back and forth.

Kun stood on his tiptoes and did the same.

“…!”

Back and forth.

Mirai extended her sweaty hand, too.

“…!”

They were on the verge of making contact with Dad’s butt, when—

—the scepter suddenly stopped swaying. The next instant, it plummeted to the ground.

“…Huh?”

Sensing something, Dad looked up from his book and glanced over his shoulder.

“Hmm?”

No one there.

Not a soul.

He scratched his head. He must’ve been imagining things. He slid the book he’d been reading back onto the shelf.

The scepter was safely back in Mirai’s hand.

The splinter from when Dad sat on it wasn’t as noticeable as she’d feared. Nevertheless, the little board had been damaged, and she murmured an apology to the pair of dolls tucked facing each other in the box. She slipped off the white gloves and replaced them, too. “I’ll see you next year,” she whispered as she gently shut the top of the container. “And thanks, Big Brother.” She smiled with a sense of accomplishment.

She was standing under a fantastical tunnel formed from hundreds of jade-vine flowers. She was lovelier than ever amid the jewellike turquoise blooms.

“I’ve heard that when two people do something together, sometimes they feel more like friends and get along better. What do you think? Do you like me a little more now?”

“Um…”

Kun tilted his head and thought for a minute, then shook his head furiously back and forth.

“Nuh-uh. Nope.”

“Hmph.” Mirai sighed, smiling bitterly. “Well, never mind, then.”

She turned her back on him, her face unreadable, and walked off without so much as a backward glance at the jade-green tunnel. Kun thought that since she was Mirai of the future, once she went out the other side, she would return to the future. But it turned out to be just an ordinary tunnel made of flowers.

The sky was already almost dark.

The courtyard was normal again, and Mom called out as she returned from her business trip.

“I’m home!”

“Welcome back!”

“I’m exhausted,” she huffed, climbing the stairs to the living room and taking Mirai in her arms, still dressed in her suit. She sighed. “I’ll feed you in a minute, Mirai.”

Seeing the cardboard box next to the sofa, she smiled at Dad.

“Thanks for putting the dolls away!”

He was just heading up the stairs. “Oh no, I forgot!” he exclaimed, running back down toward the living room as if just remembering his chore. A minute later, he returned, pointing behind him in confusion.

“Did you put them away after you got home?”

“Are you trying to make a joke? You aren’t very funny.”

Kun looked up from his toy bulldozer. “I put them away.”

“Huh?”

“Me and Mirai.”

“Mirai?”

Dad threw a bewildered glance toward Mirai as she nursed.

“And Yukko.”

“Yukko?”

Under the low table, the dog version of Yukko yawned.

That evening, they ate the sushi Mom had bought on her business trip. It was topped with thick, delicious slices of raw fish. They couldn’t stop commenting on how tasty it was, and before they knew it, the plate was empty. After dinner, Mom made what Kun had requested for dessert: pancakes with strawberries and honey.

In her bouncer, Mirai waved her stuffed bee in the air.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I met Mirai of the future.”

“Really? What did you do together?” Dad inquired, holding a mug in one hand.

“The bee game.”

“Bees?”

“And Red Light, Green Light.”

“That sounds fun. I’d like to meet the grown-up Mirai, too. Wouldn’t you, Yumi?” he asked, watching Mirai lovingly.

Mom thought for a moment as she cut the pancake on her plate into little pieces.

“Maybe…but I think I’d rather wait. Right now, I prefer the baby Mirai.” She raised her head and looked at her daughter.

“I like baby Mirai better, too.”

Everyone laughed.

Mirai solemnly observed Mom’s and Dad’s smiling faces, then Kun’s.

“Gaaaah,” she said with a sigh.