The Affection Multiplier - Chapter 158: Miai. (Patreon)

The following day, something odd is happening around the house. Your mother is coordinating several people apparently working on something. There’re people cooking in the kitchen, others are cleaning and polishing the house to a mirror sheen while others are decorating and arranging one of the rooms in the first floor with flowers, a long, low table for about 8 people, a carpet and other things. All very fancy.

Your mother tells you that your father is looking for you, so you have no choice but to go to his office. He allows you in and you sit in front of him once again.

“What’s going on? What’s with all the preparations?” You ask.

“We’re meeting people here, and we want everything to be as comfortable to them as possible.” Your father says, his eyes still on his computer screen and his hands on the keyboard. “They’re very traditional in the Japanese sense, so we’re working with professionals to arrange things. Your mother is very excited about it.”

“I see.”

“You need to be there.” He says, finally looking at you. “This is half about you, after all.”

You scowl. “What now? What are you planning now?”

“I assure you, I have your best interest at heart.” He says, though it’s in such a calm and neutral tone that it’d be hard to believe if you hadn’t seen his affection score.

“I don’t doubt that, but I don’t think you and I agree on what things are in my best interest.”

“With this, you’ll be able to secure your economic future. I have the feeling you’ll like what we’ve prepared for you.”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“Right now? No. If you don’t attend, you’ll make our family lose respect. At the very least, come and be on your best behavior.”

“Why can’t you tell me what this is about?”

“Because I don’t want you to throw a tantrum like yesterday and I know you’ll be able to behave during the meeting.”

God fucking dammit.

“Fine.” You sigh, trying to calm down. You might as well see what this is about. “What do I have to do?”

“Sit properly, listen and speak only when you’re addressed directly. They have someone who speaks English, so don’t worry about that.”

“Very well.” You answer, mirroring your father’s neutral none. “Anything else?”

“Ask your mother to teach you the proper etiquette. They know we’re foreigners and know this is your second day in the country, so I doubt they’ll be very offended if you do something wrong, but they’ll appreciate that you’re trying.”

“I will.”

With that, you leave the room.

­­­____________________________________________________________

Your mother beams when you ask her to teach you how you should act for the meeting. It’s all very simple, thankfully. Though you still think that sitting seiza style, kneeling and with your butt on your heels, is uncomfortable.

Other than that, it’s like your father said. People will come and your parents will do most of the talking until you’re addressed directly. But you have to wonder what this is all about. You father said it was to secure your economic future, so setting aside that you have your own plans about that, you’d say this is probably something similar but not quite like a job interview. Probably some business partners looking for promising up-and-comers? Not that you are one. You have no idea how your father’s business works.

Your mother comes to you and tells you it’s time. The room is decorated to give that traditional Japanese feeling, though it’s not like they changed the flooring or anything. It’s very minimalist, with a couple of long, white ceramic pots with flowers and… very thin sticks. The black low table has a traditional tea set on it, a plethora of local sweets and six cushions around it to sit, three at each side. 

You sit down at the far right of the table is that uncomfortable style, with your father to your left and your mother to his left. You wait for the guests, who’ll be sitting across from you.

One of the women your parents hired knocks on the door and announces the arrival of the Fujiwara family.

…

That’s a neat little coincidence, isn’t it? That the guests would have the same surname as your school’s nurse.

The door opens and you see a couple, probably in their mid-70s enter the room. They are, of course, Japanese. They both have grey hair due to age, with the woman wearing her long hair in a braid tied around the back of her head while the man has very short hair. They are very short, but that seems to be the average for Asian people.

And all thoughts are interrupted when a third person comes in. You want to speak her name, but your voice is caught in your throat by the surprise.

Ms. Anzu Fujiwara. The school’s nurse just entered the room.

Shoulder length, straight auburn hair; brown eyes; slim, modestly curvy figure; she’s only slightly shorter than you. Yep, that’s Ms. Fujiwara.

While you’re all wearing semi-formal clothes, you can’t help but notice how good that loose white blouse and black, long pleated skirt look on Ms. Fujiwara.

…What is going on here?

As you stare, the nurse’s eyes eventually move to you. She visibly flinches when she sees you, eyes widening and jaw dropping. She says something in Japanese in her surprise, and you can only guess it’s something like “What the…!?” or the like.

Your mother, worried about her sudden reaction, asks her what’s wrong in Japanese. At least, that’s what you get by her tone. She seems… fluent enough. Martha read a few signs for you yesterday and she spoke better than your mother, probably since she goes to school around here.

Ms. Fujiwara looks conflicted. She looks from... who you assume are her parents, to yours, to you and back to her parents without saying anything.

As for you, you were told not to say anything, but everyone’s looking at her. Her parents seem irritated by her reaction, your mother is concerned that maybe she didn’t set things correctly and your father is a silent observer.

“…Fujiwara-san, I didn’t expect to see you here.” You say, trying to offer some assistance in the most approachable, inoffensive tone you can muster. “Although, since you’re with your family, I’m afraid I’m unsure of how to refer to you. I apologize.” You chuckle nervously.

Her father seems to relax a bit and asks her a question. Ms. Fujiwara nods and answers in an uncharacteristically soft voice. Your own father points to the seats with a wave of his hand and offers them a seat. They sit down, with Ms. Fujiwara being right across from you.

You notice she’s wearing a bit more makeup than usual. Her lips are a soft tone of red and she seems to have applied some eyeliner. There’s probably more, but that’s as much as you can tell due to your inexperience with makeup.

“I’m sorry for that, David-san. I… also didn’t expect to see you here.” She says nervously, barely making eye contact with you.

“Since you’re calling me that, I assume it’s okay for me to call you by your name here?”

“To avoid confusion, yes.” She gives you a weak smile and nods. “I’ll… explain to everyone how we know each other, okay?”

“Thank you.” You say with a short bow. That’s appropriate, right?

Your mother looks at you curiously, but your father doesn’t bat an eye. You can’t tell if he already knew or if this doesn’t change his plans in the slightest.

You start referring to the nurse as Anzu-san in your head to avoid confusion as she tells everyone you’re a student at the school she works at. Probably.

Since everyone here but you speaks Japanese, you feel really left out. The conversation starts, your mother offers everyone green tea and sweets, and the only hint you have that things aren’t a complete disaster already is that, by the tone of Fujiwara-san… father, he seems to have dismissed the detail as either unimportant or helpful, because he smiles and nods at your father’s words.

Anzu-san still won’t meet your eyes. Even when she glances as you, she turns away the moment she sees you’re looking her way. Honestly, you don’t know what to make of it.

“David,” You father calls you. “Have you had many interactions with Anzu-san? What do you think of her?”

The hell? What’s with that question? Anzu-san even tries to remain still, but she’s clearly uncomfortable.

“…I’ve had to visit her in her office a few times at school. To me, she seems like a very professional and capable nurse. She seems to care a great deal about the wellbeing of every student at the academy. I really respect her.”

Your father nods and translates for the Fujiwara family while you glance at Anzu-san again. This time, she does meet your eyes as she gives you a weak smile with rosy cheeks and silently mutters “thank you”.

The longer the conversation goes on, the longer you start to think your father is speaking for you, since you don’t get asked many questions while Anzu-san seems to be addressed by your parents quite often. Of course, this gives you a lot of time to think, and you’re getting some ideas of what this is all about.

And you don’t like it. You hope you’re totally off, but…

The conversation continues with everyone drinking tea, eating sweets and speaking words you don’t understand. If they were talking in Spanish you’d have a better shot.

“David, we’ll leave you two to talk alone.” Your mother suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I think she’s s great girl. I really hope you’ll get along.”

…

Anzu-san’s parents quickly bow to you and say something you don’t understand before standing up and leaving the room with your own parents. Your father doesn’t even look at you.

…

So now you’re alone with Anzu Fujiwara after a conversation you couldn’t even follow. She’s looking down at her knees, once more unable to look at you directly.

You groan in frustration and hold your forehead.

“This was a matchmaking meeting, wasn’t it?” You ask.

“Y-You didn’t know!?” Anzu-san asks, her voice loud with surprise as she leans forward, now truly looking at you.

“Nobody told me anything. I got here yesterday. I feel stupid for not realizing it the moment you came in.” You shake your head.

“W-Why wouldn’t they tell you about this?” She asks, appalled.

“My mother probably trusted my father to tell me, and he’s… very set on his ways.” You sigh, trying not to badmouth your father in front of her.

“You said before that it wasn’t that bad, but this seems pretty bad to me.” She says with a sand frown.

“…” You don’t really want to think about him anymore. What you need to do now is get a clearer picture of what this is about. “I’m sorry, I know this is weird, but can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Y-Yes.” She nods. “It’s basically what you said. They… want us to get together, but it’s much more serious than just that.” She looks away.

Oh no.

“They can’t legally enforce it, but they want us to… eventually get married.”

You clench your fist under the table, hard enough for your short nails to hurt you palms.

“My father owns a modest, but profitable chain of electronic stores. Since I went into medicine, I’m not exactly qualified to inherit his business. The idea is that… we’ll get married and that the business will stay in the family. Your father is offering economic support to make it even bigger.”

“So it’s business, then. No wonder he said it was for my economic future.” You mutter, clicking your tongue. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“No, it’s not your fault.” Anzu-san shakes her head and smiles weakly. “It was all my father’s idea. He said that since I was already 23 and didn’t have a boyfriend, he’d take matters into his own hands."

“That’s a common thing around here, isn’t it?”

“Not so much these days, but yes.” Her smile fades again, turning into a sad frown. “Many think that women nearing their mid-twenties have less chances of getting married, so…”

You sigh and take a moment to look at the nurse. She shifts nervously in place, looking like she has a dozen things to say, but too afraid to voice any of them.

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What do you do?