Short Story: Red Umbrella, Yellow Umbrella

When I was in elementary school, the Japanese rainy season had a gentle, steady rain that wouldn't even knock a snail off a hydrangea leaf.
Raindrops gathered on the hydrangea leaves would form a large drop and drip down onto the ground.
It was such a beautiful season.

My parents divorced when I was still a young child, before I even started kindergarten.
Being the first grandchild, I was taken in by my father and my paternal grandparents. My elderly grandparents, wanting to give me a mother, immediately had my father go on a 'matchmaking' meeting.
And so, I gained a new, beautiful stepmother.
She had won 'Miss XX' at local contests many times, and she was a stepmother I was proud of.
On class observation days, I would say,
'Hey Mom, please wear that outfit.'
'Hey Mom, please wear your hair up.'

'Sure, sure.'
My stepmother would smile brightly and usually grant my requests.
When my stepmother entered the classroom, I would look back at her again and again.
My classmates would even say,
'Sayuri-chan, your mom is so beautiful!'
I never even dreamed that behind my back, they were saying, 'They don't look alike at all because she isn't her real mother.'

When I was in the sixth grade, my younger brother, born to my father and stepmother, started first grade. I doted on my first younger brother.
One day during the rainy season, I was taking a class at a seat by the window, having just finished a seat change.
From that seat in the third-floor classroom, I could see the schoolyard well.
(Oh, is that... Mom?)
The sight of my stepmother crossing the schoolyard quickly with a red umbrella caught my eye. She was holding a yellow umbrella in her hand.
(Ah, I didn't bring an umbrella this morning, so she brought one for me.)
I watched quietly as my stepmother went into the first-floor shoe locker area.
The rain that had started was just a light drizzle, enough to turn the dusty schoolyard into a polka-dot pattern.

It was time to go home. At the time, classes were organized with about forty students each. There was a 'loaner umbrella' system with ten umbrellas per class for students who hadn't brought one in case of sudden rain.
After writing the date and their names in a notebook, my friends started taking umbrellas one after another to go home.
Even elementary school students have unspoken rules.
They used the few umbrellas effectively, giving priority to those who lived far from school and sharing umbrellas among those who lived nearby.
My house was about a five-minute walk from school for a child. So, I hardly had any memory of using a 'loaner umbrella'.
'Goodbye.'
'See you tomorrow!'
My classmates headed down the stairs toward the shoe lockers.

I headed toward the shoe lockers, feeling somewhat excited. The umbrella my stepmother had brought for me should have been hanging there.
'Huh?'
Only the sneakers I had worn that morning were in the locker, with their toes pointing inward.
(It's not here... the umbrella...)

Even looking around, my umbrella wasn't there.
(Did I see wrong?)
My friends who lived in the same direction had already gone home.
The rain grew steadily worse,
and when I realized it, I was the only one left standing under the eaves of the school building.
(It's close, so I guess I'll just get wet and go home...)

Flash, rumble~

At that moment, a peal of thunder rang out, signaling the end of the rainy season.
Before I knew it, the surroundings had turned pitch black, and only when the lightning flashed did the area become as bright as day.
Rain like water from an overturned bucket pounded the ground, and in the blink of an eye, it created numerous puddles in the schoolyard.
(Scary! But I have to go home!!)
Splash, splash~
I started running. My favorite character-themed sneakers became covered in mud, and even my socks were soaked through.
I ran through the heavy rain, across the schoolyard, and down the road home with a face where I couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.
Water dripped from my hair and my clothes.
The house felt far away that day.

At the entrance of the house I finally reached, a wet yellow umbrella was sitting there. Below it, my younger brother's small sneakers lay discarded.
As I thought, I hadn't seen wrong.

'Huff, huff... I'm home...'
'Oh, Sayuri-chan, welcome home. My, you're soaking wet.'
For just a split second, it looked like my stepmother chuckled when she saw me.
But she immediately turned back into the house and brought me a bath towel.
'You poor thing, you got so wet.'
She gently wiped my hair and body.
'Go change, tonight we're having your favorite croquettes, Sayuri-chan.'
That smile was truly beautiful and cold.
'Okay.'

I never told anyone about that day.
I don't know why I didn't.
But, after decades have passed,
when I look at my stepmother smiling in front of me saying,
'Sayuri-chan, Sayuri-chan,'
I think my judgment that day was not wrong.Before we knew it, we had become a real mother and daughter.

The End

*I have borrowed a wonderful photograph from Nanatsuji/Tsujikaze (Tsuji)-sama.
Thank you very much.