Take Care

On the last day of March, Tokyo experienced its first spring rain of the year.

The rain was light, a fine, dense drizzle that sounded like someone gently tapping on the glass with their fingers as it hit the windowpane.

Feiniao sat in the room with her textbook open in front of her, but she couldn't concentrate on reading a single word.

She had been sitting like this for a long time, from morning to afternoon, and her textbook was still turned to yesterday's page.

Her phone vibrated. She picked it up and saw a message from Hua Hua: "What time is Xia Jun leaving?"

Feiniao glanced at the time and replied, "Arriving at the airport at 3:30."

"Remember to say goodbye for me, and tell him to contact us as soon as he arrives in Taiwan..."

Feiniao put down her phone, stood up, and walked to the window.

The rain was still falling, and the cherry blossom trees not far away had already sprouted tiny pink and white buds that shone brightly after being washed by the rain, but they hadn't bloomed yet.

She stared at the flower buds for a few seconds, then turned and walked out of the room.

Mom was chopping vegetables in the kitchen when she heard footsteps and peeked out: "Going out?"

"Xia Mo is leaving soon, let's go see him off."

"Put on your scarf, it's cold outside."

Feiniao grunted in agreement, took the light gray scarf from the coat rack by the door, wrapped it around her neck twice, and then went out with her handbag.

She glanced at herself in the mirror; her face was pale, and her lips were almost bloodless. She patted her cheeks, trying to make herself look less haggard, but it didn't help.

"Come back soon." Mom's voice came from the kitchen.

"understood."

She opened the door and went out.

--------

A black sedan was parked in front of Xia Mo's house.

It wasn't a taxi, but a rather old-looking private car with a few shallow scratches on the body and a thin red string tied to the rearview mirror—probably for good luck.

The trunk was already open, with two suitcases side by side, one large and one small. Xia Mo's violin case stood upright next to it, a little distance away from the other luggage, as if it were being specially taken care of.

Xia Mo stood at the door, wearing a light dark gray coat with her hat pulled low, and holding her violin case to her chest.

Standing next to him was a woman—not very tall, wearing a beige coat, her hair tied low, her eyes slightly red, but her face showing a calm that she was trying hard to maintain.

That was my mother at the end of summer.

She was carrying a cloth bag and staring at the withered green plant under the porch, as if she were looking at something she couldn't bear to look away from.

The bird stopped on the other side of the road and did not immediately cross over.

A man came out of the house, carrying a briefcase, wearing a dark blue jacket, and with his hair neatly combed.

That was Xia Mo's father.

Feiniao had met him a few times, each time only briefly. He spoke very little and had very little expression, as if he had sealed himself in a transparent glass box.

But today, his brows were furrowed more deeply than usual, and he walked more slowly than usual.

He put his briefcase in the back seat, then walked over to Xia Mo's mother, took the bag from her, and put it in the trunk.

The movements were light and natural, without any verbal communication, but the coordination was as if they had rehearsed many times.

"Asuka." Summer saw her and nodded.

The bird flew over and stopped in front of the end of summer.

She didn't look at him, but bowed to his mother first: "Hello, Auntie."

Summer's mother forced a smile, her eyes reddening further: "Asuka-chan, thank you... thank you for taking care of Summer all this time."

Feiniao shook her head, wanting to say, "He's the one who took care of me," but swallowed the words back. Looking at her mother's red eyes, she felt that nothing she said would be quite right.

"Bon Voyage."

She said this last sentence in Chinese.

Xia Mo's mother nodded, turned around, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

The birds turned towards the end of summer. He stood there, holding his violin case, his hat brim pulled low, obscuring his expression.

"Are you alright?" Asuka asked.

"Yeah, it's just that I'm not used to being so far away from you all all of a sudden." Xia Mo raised her head and forced a smile.

"Hua Hua told you to take care. Contact me as soon as you arrive in Taiwan."

Xia Mo nodded.

The two stood silently as the fine rain fell, landing on the birds' hair, on the violin case at the end of summer, and on the waiting black car.

Xia Mo's father stood beside the car, clutching the car keys in his hand. He looked at Xia Mo, then at Fei Niao.

His lips moved a few times, as if he wanted to say something, but each time he swallowed back the words before they could be uttered.

In the end, he said nothing, simply put his hands in his pockets, and looked away.

"Get in the car," Xia Mo's mother said softly, her tone like she was coaxing a child.

Xia Mo put the violin case down from his arms and placed it upright at his feet. He didn't get into the car immediately, but turned his head to look at the closed door of his home.

The gray security door had a faded teru teru bozu (a Japanese doll) hanging on the doorknob; the smiley face was still there.

His mother made it a few years ago, saying it would "keep the sun shining in the house."

He looked at it for about five seconds, then turned around, bent down, picked up the violin case, and walked to the trunk.

"I'll do it." Xia Mo's father came over, took the violin case from his hand, and carefully put it into the trunk, securing it with a luggage bag to prevent it from rolling away on the road.

Xia Mo stood there, watching her father do this.

He watched his father's large, rough hands carefully adjust the position of the luggage, watched his father put the violin case in place and then cover it with an old coat, watched his father close the trunk with two light touches before closing it tightly.

"Dad," Xia Mo called out.

Xia Mo's father turned around and looked at him. Rain fell between them, fine and dense, like an invisible curtain.

Xia Mo opened his mouth, then closed it again. His expression remained unchanged, but his hands clenched into fists and then relaxed.

"We'll talk on the way," Xia Mo's father said. His voice was soft, with a hoarse quality as he tried to keep it steady.

Xia Mo nodded.

He walked to the car door, stopped, and glanced back at Fei Niao. Xia Mo's hat brim was pulled low, but she saw his lips move slightly.

He said two words.

"Take care of yourself."

Before Feibiao could answer, he had already gotten into the car and closed the door.

Xia Mo's mother got into the car from the other side. Xia Mo's father got into the driver's seat and fastened his seatbelt.

The car window slowly rolled down, and Xia Mo's mother leaned out and waved to Fei Niao.

"Asuka-chan, take care of yourself."

As the bird bowed to her, it saw through the back window that Xia Mo had pushed her hat up a little, revealing her eyes.

Those eyes were looking at her, and his lips moved slightly. This time, Asuka saw it clearly.

He meant—"hat".

Feiniao lowered his head and took out the black hat from the bag he was carrying.

The large "X" on the brim of the hat was somewhat blurred in the rain and mist.

During the school festival, the two of them accidentally grabbed the wrong hats, but they tacitly avoided mentioning it and have kept them for each other ever since.

She held it diagonally over her head, and when she looked up, the car window had already rolled up.

The engine started, and the black sedan slowly pulled out of the parking space and merged into the lane. Its taillights lit up in the rain and mist, turning into two blurry red spots.

The bird stood by the roadside, watching the car drive further and further away. Fine raindrops fell on her face, but she didn't wipe them away. She just watched as the two red spots of light slowly shrank and faded, finally disappearing around the next intersection.

The car was quiet.

As summer drew to a close, Mom sat in the back seat, watching the buildings on the street recede into the distance outside the window.

Xia Mo sat next to her, head down, remaining silent.

Xia Mo's father glanced at the back seat in the rearview mirror, then looked back at the road. He gripped the steering wheel for a moment, then relaxed his grip.

Squeeze again, then loosen.

The three people, who had lived together for many years, were now silent, as if they were three familiar strangers.

The car drove out of the residential street and onto the main road. The cherry blossom trees along the roadside swept past one by one, their buds yet to bloom, appearing exceptionally quiet in the drizzle.

An old song was playing on the radio, the volume was so low that the melody was almost inaudible.

At the end of summer, Dad turned off the radio.

The car was so quiet you could hear the windshield wipers scraping against the glass, one stroke, one stroke, one stroke.

"Summer's End." Finally, Summer's End's father spoke.

Xia Mo did not respond, nor did he raise his head.

Xia Mo's father paused, as if unsure what to say. He gripped the steering wheel again.

"When you get there, eat well. Don't always eat convenience store food."

"Um."

"Mom will take care of things at the new school. Call me if anything comes up."

"Um."

Dad paused again as summer drew to a close. The red light ahead was on, and he stepped on the brakes, bringing the car to a slow stop. The windshield wipers were still moving, one wipe after another.

"Also, regarding the divorce from your mother, I'm very sorry..."

"Dad." Xia Mo interrupted her father, who didn't want to talk about this topic.

Xia Mo's father looked at him in the rearview mirror.

Xia Mo shifted her gaze from inside the car to the hazy sky outside the window.

The rain slanted against the car window, streaming down the glass like a tearful face.

"You should eat well from now on," Xia Mo said.

The voice was soft and calm, as if it were about something insignificant.

Xia Mo's father didn't say anything.

He was also uncomfortable with his son discussing these kinds of topics with him.

The red light turned green. The car behind honked its horn briefly, as if urging the other driver to hurry up.

He gripped the steering wheel for a moment, then released it, shifted gears, and stepped on the gas. The car started moving again.

As summer drew to a close, Mom turned her head to look out the window and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Xia Mo's father didn't say anything more. But you could see in the rearview mirror that his brows were furrowed and his jaw was clenched.

The car drove onto the highway.

The view outside the window changed from residential houses to high-rise buildings, and from high-rise buildings to factory chimneys and the blue tin roofs of warehouses.

Tokyo slowly faded into the rain and mist, like a watercolor painting being diluted with water.

Xia Mo looked out the window and hesitated for a moment. She finally spoke.

"dad."

"Um."

"Can I come back and stay for a few days during summer vacation?"

Xia Mo's father glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"I want to see Asuka and Hana. They're still in Japan, and I want to see them."

"This is my only friend now."

The car was quiet for a few seconds.

"Okay." Xia Mo's father didn't hesitate. "You can come if you want. I'll buy the plane tickets."

Xia Mo looked into his father's eyes in the rearview mirror. In those eyes, where fine lines had already appeared at the corners, there was an emotion he had been familiar with since childhood—the look in his father's eyes when he made a mistake, where the father wouldn't scold him, but would just look at him and wait for him to admit his mistake.

That kind of look when his father would watch him play the piano well, without praising him, just with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

That kind of light doesn't mean I don't love it.

It was just a helpless situation out of necessity.

"Thank you, Dad," Xia Mo said, then looked back out the window.

The car continued driving. The rain lessened a bit, and a thin ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, falling on the distant gray-blue sea, sparkling like someone had scattered a handful of gold dust on the water.

Xia Mo's mother leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling slightly. Xia Mo placed her hands on her knees, her fingers tapping lightly on the clasp.

As summer drew to a close, Dad turned the radio back on. The old song had finished playing, and he switched to some light music; the gentle sound of the piano flowed slowly through the car.

No one spoke anymore.