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Mother brought our breakfasts to the table. I looked at my father, whose nose was buried in his beloved morning newspaper. The flavor of breakfast sausage filled my mouth as I nibbled idly. I stared at his paper, glaring. The headline caught my eye.

The Corporation Serial Killer Continues to Outrage Tokyo

There was a large picture on the page which depicted an artist's impression of a murderer, which told no one anything.

My father didn’t look at me, but he did something very rare. “Susumu, why don’t you try hard enough?”

By the way, my name, ‘Susumu’, means ‘tomorrow’. My mother gave me a name full of hope and promise. I hated the name. It made promises for me I could never deliver on.

“Ahaha..." I was nervous after having read the article and wondered why he wasn't. I considered the question, puzzled by it coming out of nowhere. “I always do my best, father,” I responded with a ready-made excuse. It’s about my grades? Since when did he bother?!

“You don’t care about my grades... and they’re pretty top shelf quality.”

He nodded and turned his attention to the paper in his hands. The family kotatsu was his favorite place to sit and relax before heading to work. He’d enjoy breakfast, coffee, and within a few hours he’d be off. It was usually a quiet affair. We didn’t speak much. He earned what kept food on our table, and paid for my education, but despite this, neither he nor my mother pressured me to do anything I didn’t want to do. Unlike many parents, mine didn’t push me to figure out what career I’d like to pursue. It was entirely left up to high school. Despite fair marks, I had no answer for what I wanted. They did expect me to do household chores, of course. I didn’t resent it. What bothered me was that he didn’t answer my question.

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“Is that all?” I asked finally. It was a question looking for release, but more than that, I really wanted to know more about what his intentions were. I waited impatiently for a while longer, fidgeting and playing with the food on my plate. When he answered, I jumped.

“This girl,” he murmured. “She’s showing up here again, right?” He was still entirely focused on his paper. It annoyed me. Paying me half a mind as usual.

He’d never met Reiko-chan, my best friend. Why would he think so much of someone he’d never bothered to speak to? I swallowed back my resentment.

“Uh, yeah. We’ll probably play a few games.” I looked for a response from him. He still ignored me. He turned a page of the paper in his hands. His paper was more interesting than anything happening around him, as usual. I was amazed, however, that he would even bother to speak with me. I thought about the significance of his words.

“Ah, I see.” His response was simple and straightforward. It didn’t surprise me in the least. After all this drama, his response was so lame! I huffed as I attacked my breakfast. It was delicious. My mother was a great cook, but I enjoyed it a bit less than I would have normally were it not for my frustration. I munched on the sausages Mother had prepared for us, the only food left on my plate. I always saved them for last, I loved them most.

I seethed. My curiosity wasn’t satisfied, and the point of the conversation was still beyond me. I wasn’t one to challenge my father normally, but since the conversation touched Reiko-chan, someone I was intensely protective towards, I couldn’t help asking again.

“Why? Is it suddenly a problem? Because she’s a girl? Could it be because she’s always in my room alone? Did it finally start bothering you? You never cared before! Neither of you say a word about anything!”

He looked up from his paper towards me again, and I felt as though I’d scored a point. I’d finally gotten his attention away from the stupid paper! His head nodded from one side to another. His response was genial.

“No. I don’t care at all about that. I encourage you, actually.” My eyes widened.

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