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"Mommy [母ちゃん], can you make something different?" Small, pleading eyes stared up at Ayako from the foot of the armchair. Akane had apparently decided to take a break from galloping around the living room pretending to be a dog, her auburn hair disheveled enough to give a certain resemblance. Trips to the park or running errands around the neighborhood after preschool were usually enough to tire her out, but there were always exceptions. A second child meant knowing to insist on a unit with double-layer concrete floors. "I don't like that soup."
"Oh? You've never told me that before." The blanket in Ayako's lap drooped to the floor as she slowly sat up in her chair; she quickly pulled it back up over her knees. Constant battling over the thermostat was certainly a rarely-acknowledged challenge of romance with a twenty-year age gap. "What don't you like about it?"
"The little … things in it."
"The … barley?" That made sense; it wasn't in much else they made. Tea, of course, but that was quite a bit different. "That's not a problem, Akane. We can cook it separately and put it in Mommy [母ちゃん] and Mama [ママ]'s bowls. What would you like instead? Just rice?"
Akane smiled and nodded.
An easy negotiation. Ayako pivoted in her chair toward the kitchen; Asuka had her back turned, busy scouring the overhead cabinets. "Asuka, would you do the barley separately? Akane doesn't like it, and it'll keep better if we have leftovers again."
"Sure, Mom [母さん]," Asuka called back, voice a little strained as she stretched to reach something on one of the higher shelves. It would certainly be convenient if her sister wound up taller than either of them, though that seemed unlikely given the genetics. Akira seemed to be an outlier even among the Moriis.
Tucking the blanket around her, Ayako turned back to find Akane still staring up at her. "Mommy, how many times are we going to eat that soup?"
"Hmm. I'd say …" Ayako set a hand on her chin. "Maybe one hundred thousand million times?" This did not seem to be the answer Akane wanted, but it was probably closer to the truth. "But we can make it differently. More like nikujaga, or something else you like. Let's see how you do without the barley, first."
She leaned forward, sweeping her braid behind her shoulder before setting her hands on her knees. "Did Mama tell you the story about why she makes this soup so much?"
Akane shook her head.
"When Mama had you in her belly, she got very sick. She couldn't eat anything."
"Anything?" Akane pondered this for a few moments, then lowered herself to the floor and looked up. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Oh, it's not your fault. It just happens sometimes when you have a baby." Ayako gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "When she got better, she was very hungry. I made her oden, and that cake you like, and—"
"I love that cake!" Akane's eyes lit up, but her excitement was short-lived as Asuka began chopping the mountain of vegetables in the kitchen adjacent. She drew her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them as the faint sound of knife on wooden board echoed pleasantly through the living room. "I wish we could have cake instead of soup."
"Well, so did Mama. But she liked to cook back then, too, and she was worried I was working too hard. When she felt well enough, she made all sorts of soups, like this one. Some were a little strange."
"I think this one's strange." Akane looked back up and set her palms on her knees. "But I guess maybe it's good without the little things in it."
Ayako leaned down and ruffled her hair. "Thank you for being so open-minded."
There was a creak as the front door opened, and a mop of blonde hair over a black pea coat leaned in through the gap. Akira swept her hair out of her face just as more chopping was audible from the kitchen, and her cheery expression dropped, too. "No dinner yet?"
"Akira!" Akane shouted, scrambling from the floor and halfway to the front door before Ayako could hope to respond. She turned in the entryway so her back was to Akira shuffling in behind her, with arms angled out to her sides and delight on her face. "Look! Akira is here!"
"Akira, we're running a bit late." Ayako lifted her phone from the end table beside her chair and gave it a little wave over her shoulder. "I tried calling, but you didn't pick up."
Letting out a theatrical sigh, Akira closed the door behind her, then shrugged with a wry smile. "Sorry, [ソーリー] Mom [Mum!]!"