Just 30,000 yen. Yet, 30,000 yen. The moment the 'breadth of life' changes for a man and a woman.

It is the same 30,000 yen.
It is not 300,000.
It is 30,000.
Just 30,000 yen.
Yet, 30,000 yen.

Kenji uses it for golf.
A round once a month.
The same faces, the same turf, the same sound of the driver hitting the ball.

And the familiar praise of 'Nice par' every time.
It's not bad.
It certainly isn't bad at all.

The first sip of draft beer at the clubhouse is so delicious that I think it must exist in this world for every tired middle-aged man, and for Kenji, that day was a small shelter to secretly escape from the weight called daily life.

However, that is not the case.
Yukiko was different.
'Then I'll take 30,000 too. It's only fair, right?' she said with a smile.
This is scary.
The face that a man who has been with his partner for many years finds the scariest in the world is usually a smiling face.
And Yukiko's 30,000 yen transformed.

Kneading clay.
Stepping to the beat.
Whisking tea.

Pottery, flamenco, tea ceremony. All three at once.

I have no idea why she does all three at once, but Yukiko does them all at the same time.
Kenji had underestimated her.
Thinking she would get bored soon anyway.
That prediction was brilliantly wrong.
Yukiko's 30,000 yen called for new friends, called for applause for reasons I don't know, and took on a colorful heat, steadily expanding Yukiko's life.

Her name appeared on the recital flyer.
The teacups she made were sold.
Invitations to tea parties are piling up on her smartphone.

Kenji looks in the mirror.
There is the familiar face of a man with a slightly protruding belly.
It is the same 30,000 yen.

Even though it should be the same 30,000 yen, not a single yen different, something is decisively different.
Kenji's weekend goes around in circles in the same place, while Yukiko's weekend climbs higher and higher like a spiral staircase.
This is not a story about pocket money.
It is a story about how to spend one's time.

No—perhaps it is a story about 'how to spend one's life'.
When he realized that, Kenji laughed a little, and then felt a sharp pain deep in his chest.
It was a truly terrible story.
Even so, that clubhouse beer is still delicious.
Oh my, oh my.