"Punching and Being Punched Boxing Tavern" ep. 25 "Dancing with Joy Bunbuku Chagama"
Dedicated to Yomogi-san
It was a moo-moo-morning.
Dai-chan, with the morning sun at his back, was nodding off.
His head was bobbing left and right, like a wild variety show broadcast!!
I approached with the stealth of a Shinobu Otake, and whispered from near his knees in a low voice.
"Mornin'..."
The next moment, I was blown to the other side of the room.
"Ouchhhhh!" "Sorry, Saku-chan-chan! But don't go acting like a ninja when it's not your style!"
I rolled around, holding my right eye.
Dai-chan apologized while bowing on his knees.
Zero silence.
But in that instant, I saw it.
The color of the night remaining under Dai-chan's eyes.
——No, it's the backlight. Probably.
More importantly.
Grumble.
Dai-chan's stomach is growling.
Grumble (it's like a noisy siren).
My stomach responds in kind (my body is being awfully honest today).
"Is it a round!?" "No, it's a unison!"
Clapping our hands with a snap, we continue with a snap-snap-snap-snap-snap-Pansiron,
We... laugh until our sides ache. Laughing, laughing, laughing, it's a total riot.
Every time our stomachs growl, our abs feel like they're breaking.
I'm laughing so hard my ribs feel like they're going to fall apart.
"That's right, I'm hungry!" "Same here! I'm hungry too, Devadatta."
Our stomachs growl.
Our voices overlap.
Our laughter overlaps, too, of course.
Growling, growling, na-ni-nu-ne-no. Rumbling, rumbling, na-ri-ru-re-ro.
——This is it. This is the rhythm. It's a rhythm dance.
We run down the stairs, skipping along.
Daichan grabs me by the collar and slaps my butt.
"Are you trying to kill me!?" "The opposite, the opposite!"
Even while resisting, our stomachs are honest.
In the kitchen, Iyo-san is finally serving the miso soup.
"What are you guys doing so early in the morning!"
Tofu miso soup.
Eggplant rice bran pickles.
A mountain of carrots.
Dai-chan slides a carrot onto my plate.
"Eat it." "No." "Eat it." "No."
Iyo-san bursts into laughter.
"Alright! It's a morning stomach-growling rap battle!"
Suddenly, Iyo-san starts swinging a hand towel around.
The beat starts.
Grumble!
Grumble!
Grumble!
"A growling stomach is proof that you're alive!" "Hunger is the signal of life!" "Slurping miso soup at high speed!" "Saku's impulse to refuse the carrot!"
Iyo-san joins in with ad-libs.
"Yo! The miso soaks into the frontal lobe!" "Yo! Sound the stomach drums, everyone gather 'round!"
Every time a stomach growls, there is thunderous applause.
A group of people in black school uniforms crowd the kitchen entrance.
"What is that..." "Looks fun..."
Gazes of longing.
Alright.
Next.
"It's a Fukuwarai (blindfolded face-making game) showdown!"
Blindfolded, I stick eyes and a nose onto Dai-chan's face.
Complete.
The nose is on the forehead, the eyes are on the chin.
"Is that a new species!?" "It's evolved!"
Iyo-san joins the fray too.
Complete.
The mouth is on the back of the head.
"You're laughing behind my back!"
Rolling.
Literally rolling.
The stomach rumbles.
Laughter rings out. It rings and rings, a rhythmic chime.
"Alright, comedy duo showdown!"
Dai-chan is the straight man.
"You've been calling me a womanizer way too bluntly since this morning!" "I am the world's greatest womanizer!" "You haven't conquered the world! You haven't even earned your credits, and you haven't earned a single laugh either!"
Iyo-san plays the audience and rolls with laughter.
The guys in black school uniforms are definitely the audience.
"Let's go get some zenzai!"
The three of them walk through the noren curtain together.
"Does it have chestnuts in it?" "Are you taking a bath with your sister?" "E-eh...!?"
The daughter is bewildered.
Alright, go, it's a zenzai speed-eating contest!
Wait! It's hot! Heat is part of life too! Yoyoi no yoi. Don't make excuses!
The spoon clatters. It smells like slurping.
Breathing becomes ragged.
Steam rises straight up.
The winner is (as expected), Iyoiyoiyoiyo-san! I don't feel like I'll lose to you guys yet!
I slide all the chestnuts onto Daichan's arm.
That's not even chestnut zenzai! Actually, I can't eat chestnuts!!
Sophistry is also part of the rhythm.
Outside the round window, those in black school uniforms are watching.
They look busy.
I tilt the spoon.
Want some?
The three of them look at each other (don't stare at me like that, it's embarrassing).
Laughter.
My stomach growls (grrr-uuu).
Voices overlap (clack-clack-clack).
Laughter overlaps (guheheee).
Future?
Success?
Sink that kind of stuff to the bottom of the red bean soup.
Right here, right now (it's time, isn't it?),
My stomach rumbles like Horyu-ji Temple,
While someone laughs and cries,
Slurping down something sweet.
That's enough (what else could you possibly need, tenderness).
Life isn't about logic, you know.
La-ri-ru-re-le-ro-le-ro, it's the le-ro-rhythm.
The three of us standing shoulder to shoulder,
Rolling with laughter beyond the steam.
The guys in black school uniforms finally said,
"Are we... going to do it? Can we do it, or will we get beaten?"
"Do it, do it! First, let your stomach rumble!"
The sound of stomachs echoes through the town.
Grumble, grumble, grumble...
That's the signal, yeah.
From the wild joy~
To the chorus!
The morning is far from over.
We are~,
Just endlessly...
I'm just rolling on the floor laughing.