‘Stay as long as you want.’

Hotaka’s mother knelt beside Osamu. She had been hugging him and weeping with him. Now she was holding his hands, gently stroking them.‘Consider yourself one of the family,’ Hotaka’s mother added.

‘Yamato-san, arigatō gozaimasu, thank you very much. I cannot tell you how much that means. But you won’t have to put up with me for long, I promise; my grandmother will be here within the week; I’m sure she will.’

‘No need for that, Osamu. Whenever she gets here. I mean it!’ Hotaka’s mother rose, crossing to the furu, a small black metal brazier that heated the room. ‘Now let’s get something warm and nourishing into you boys.’

They were in a small room just off the central courtyard of Hotaka’s house. His mother called it the chashitsu, the tea room, but it was used for all sorts of things in winter, being cosy and easy to heat. A large earthen pot sat on the brazier. Mrs Yamato lifted the lid, took a ladle and prepared two bowls of steaming miso soup thick with delicious noodles.

‘I assume you’re hungry,’ she said to Osamu, placing a bowl in front of him on the low table. He nodded eagerly. ‘And you must be starving, Hotaka,’ she added. ‘I know for a fact that you didn’t have breakfast before you sneaked out and left me fretting all day. The whole mobile network was down so I didn’t know what to think.’ She frowned as she handed him his bowl. ‘You had me worried sick!’

‘I am sorry, Okāsan, I really am. But there was something I had to do.’

His mother sighed. ‘I understand. I too had some…’ She didn’t finish, shaking her head instead. ‘What a terrible thing this is that has come upon us.’ She placed the lid back on the crock.

Hotaka detected a note of strain in his mother’s voice. Something was distressing her, something more than his disappearance all day, he felt sure. It was bigger than that, and he could see it in her face as well. Was it to do with Uncle Yori? Had she heard something? Hotaka wanted to ask, though not in front of Osamu. Later, he decided.

Just then his mother suddenly clapped her hands. ‘Which reminds me,’ she said, regaining her composure. ‘You won’t be the only one staying with us, Osamu. We’re taking in some guests.’

‘Guests?’ Hotaka said. ‘Who?’

‘Anyone who has lost their home. The government is sending portable huts and units, but they’ll be days, probably weeks away. It will take months to set those up and house everyone. In the meantime it’s up to people like us, who have homes, to look after those who don’t. Simple as that. I’ve been to all the homes on this side of Omori-wan, and most have agreed to take in people.’

‘How many are we taking?’

‘I’ve calculated we could handle maybe fourteen, but we’ll go for ten to begin and work upwards if we can.’

‘Wow! That’s a lot of people, Okāsan. We’ll be crowded.’

‘I know. It won’t be easy, Hotaka. It’ll be a shock after just having you, me and Jīchan. We’ll be cramped, but it’s our duty to those less fortunate. I’m sure you understand.’

‘Of course.’

His mother smiled and picked up the soup ladle again. ‘I suggest you boys make the most of your relative privacy this evening. It could be the last quiet night for a while.’ She held up the ladle. ‘More soup?’

They both nodded. She filled their bowls.

‘And when you finish, Osamu,’ she added, ‘there’s a hot bath. Hotaka will show you what’s what.’

‘Yamato-san, arigatō gozaimasu,’ Osamu replied. ‘You are so kind.’

As his mother left the room, Hotaka noticed that shadow of concern pass across her face again, and decided to discover what the problem was once he’d looked after Osamu.

Hotaka found his mother in the kitchen, staring into the sink.

‘What is it, Okāsan?’ She turned to him and he could see she’d been crying. ‘Bad news?’

‘No, my son. I’m just – oh, I don’t know – overwhelmed by all the tragedy around us.’

She took a deep breath.

‘My heart weeps for Osamu, and yet he’s just one of many, many people. I helped in town for much of the day, handing out food, clothes, blankets, trying to comfort people who have lost everything. And I mean everything, Hotaka. We’re so lucky, my son. We’ve lost nothing.’ She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘And seeing so much loss and grief made me realise how important your grandfather and uncle are. They’re the only family we have. They’re everything to us.’

She didn’t mention his father, but then he wouldn’t have expected her to. Hotaka’s parents had formally separated a year ago, although his father had been often absent for several years. He now lived in Tokyo, with his business and his young mistress. The absence of a proper father figure hurt Hotaka deeply, but luckily his grandfather and uncle had stepped into the role. They were precious to him; he couldn’t imagine life without them.

‘And not having them here – right here with us now I mean – makes me so worried, so frightened.’

‘No, Okāsan, you must not think that way.’

‘I know it’s silly, but I can’t help worrying.’

‘They’re both fine.’

‘Really? Both? I know Jīchan is safe up in the hills with Rho-san. But what of Uncle Yori?’

‘I meant to tell you I saw his boat clear the wave. I’m certain of it!’

His mother nodded. ‘Is that so, Hotaka? I know there have been reports of boats at sea, unable to return but safe nonetheless.’

‘Exactly, and he’s one of those for sure; you can bet on it. Uncle Yori is a survivor.’

‘That’s true, I suppose.’

‘He’s out there, Okāsan, floating around, waiting for his chance to come back, believe me.’

Hotaka’s mother held up her hands. ‘Okay, my son. I believe you.’ She stepped away from the sink. ‘Mind you, I still wish Jīchan was here with us. I miss his soft voice, his calm reassurance. He has always been such a rock for me.’

‘For me, too, Okāsan.’

‘I actually tried calling Rho-san last night, and this morning. But of course all the networks were down and I couldn’t get through. I tried again around lunchtime today; still no luck. I’d just like to hear Jīchan’s voice, that’s all.’

‘I know. I’d like it, too, more than anything. But he will be with us as soon as the roads are cleared. He will!’ Hotaka reached out and took his mother’s hand.

‘You’re right, of course,’ his mother replied, smiling weakly. She straightened herself. ‘I suppose I should really get on and prepare a couple of rooms. Our first guests will be arriving in the morning. There’s even a chance some may come this evening.’

‘Good idea,’ Hotaka said. ‘I’ll help you.’

‘So will I.’ Osamu stood at the kitchen door, fresh from his bath.