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When Tsuki entered Yori’s General Store, he didn’t bet on having to comfort Pipi over moving into the city for an education. Yet, here he was.
In his defense, he wasn’t aware of this new development, and it seemed that not even Yori was too comfortable with the idea either. But it did make sense. Mushroom Village wasn’t exactly known for it’s excellent educational system, let alone did it have any schools in a 500 kilometer radius. MV wasn’t exactly known at all.
There used to be a small primary school run by a total of four staff members before they had to shut down due to the lack of children in the village. Chi, Moca, and himself had grown up at the school. But, as they had grown older, there was no use for the school anymore. So, now, Pipi didn’t have any kind of education near her.
“I don’t want to go!” Pipi said, nuzzling her small face into his torso.
He could understand where she was coming from; having to go to a new place was scary enough. Having to live there was a whole other thing that he didn’t feel like unpacking just yet. He remembered when he first moved to the city as soon as he finished high school. The bustling streets, the traffic, the amount of stimulation being fed to his brain after years of living in a rural village. He had felt like an outsider for years. His accent was different from those who were raised in the city, and it took him a while to understand the slang, too. He was called a “ country bumpkin ” on more than one occasion by classmates. Now imagine being a child and having to go through that. Pipi was a bright kid, but not even she could likely handle the sudden changes.
Tsuki rubbed circles on her back. “Pipi… there aren’t any schools here.”
“I don’t care!” Pipi cried. “Pops teaches me with those activity books! I don’t get why I have to stay with Ami-san!”
“Ami-san?”
“That’s her aunt,” Yori said. He was gulping tea out of a thermos quickly, something he only ever did when he was noticeably nervous. “Pipi… Ami-san would love to see you again..”
The tears that were pooling in the ducts of Pipi’s eyes began to flow down her face, staining the end of Tsuki’s scarf. Not that he minded. He was more concerned by her act of crying rather than the product.
“Pipi…”
“I don’t want to leave you or Papa. Or Chi or Moca or Elfie…” Pipi whispered. “I don’t want to leave the village…”
Tsuki didn’t want Pipi to leave either. If there was any other way, then Yori would’ve taken it. But, in the end, there wasn’t. It was between sending Pipi to the city or raising Pipi without a proper education. Homeschooling was technically an option, but both Tsuki and Yori knew he was too old and busy for that. On top of that, Yori wasn’t… the best teacher.
“Pipi, I don’t want you to go either,” Tsuki said. “But-”
“But what?!” Pipi yelled. She let go of Tsuki to stare directly into his eyes. She had to turn her head all the way up to look at him, given her height. “I don’t get it! I won’t be with Papa anymore and I’ll be all alone!”
Tsuki’s heart ached. Yori spoke up. “Pipi… you’ll still have Ami-san.”
“I don’t know Ami-san, Pops!” Pipi said. “You just don’t get it!”
She sniffed, roughly wiping her nose with her arm. Pipi looked down at the floor with a glare that could burn holes into the wood. “ Don’t you want to see me ?”
Tsuki swore he could hear Yori’s heart break. Despite the old man being known for having a calm demeanor, he watched as his eyes widened in shock. His ears twitched at the subtle sound of Yori’s breath hitching.
Yori’s face then softened. “Pipi… come ‘ere.”
There was no protest as Pipi ran into her father’s arms. It didn’t take a second for a choked sob to echo off the shop’s walls, steady cries leaving Pipi’s throat.
Tsuki felt like he was interrupting; this was between Yori and Pipi, their family. He was intruding on something personal. But before he could move, his eyes locked with Yori’s, which only screamed stay . So he did.
The afternoon sun was bleeding through the dusty windows of the store. It had been an hour since Tsuki entered the store, and he found himself still there. Pipi had calmed down, but the hurt was still apparent. Her usual sunny attitude had faded into an emotionless, reserved one. It was a little unnerving, to say the least.
If he peered into the storage room, he could see a glimpse of a red randoseru sitting in the corner, a clear testament to Pipi’s aversion towards moving.
“You know,” Tsuki started. “I don’t think the old man wants you to leave either.”
“How would you know?” Pipi grumbled, sitting on the ground next to the corner with her knees pulled to her chest.
“We know you don’t want to move, Pipi. But there will be so many more opportunities for you in the city,” Tsuki said. “You’ll be able to meet more kids your age and make more friends. There will be more foods to try and lots of stores to browse at.”
Pipi looked up curiously, but her expression was still dull. Tsuki kept going.
‘“You’ll be able to spend more time with Ami-san. Plus, you’ll still be able to video call with your dad,” Tsuki said.
He had dealt with things like before, both through his own experiences and from kids he’s babysat in the past. His coworkers had a bad habit of putting him in charge of taking care of their kids when they had to work overtime. They seemed to forget that he too was working. Kids weren’t as naive and oblivious as people thought they were. Despite their reputation for having annoying, loud, and tiresome personalities, children were still people. They had thoughts and feelings of their own, even if they couldn’t put a name to it. And it was clear to Tsuki that Pipi felt like they weren’t trying to understand why she didn't want to leave, only her current outburst of emotion.
"Your dad is trying to help you as much as he can, and the only way for him to do that is to get you a good education, one that doesn't exist here in the village. The reason he's doing that is because he loves you . If he didn't, he would let you grow up without any kind of educational background and let you fend for yourself. I'm sure that your dad would love to come with you to the city, but it's just not possible with his job and circumstances.”
Yori looked at Tsuki with thankful eyes. Pipi stared at the ground for a second before nodding.
"O-Okay… I guess…”
Yori then spoke up. '”Pipi… one of the promises I made to your… your mom… was to give you a good future. She wanted you to grow up to be a strong, intelligent woman. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but I want to keep her promise.”
Pipi's ear twitched at the mention of her mom and her head shot up like a bullet. "Mom?”
Yori looked up as if he was reminiscing. "Mm."
Ah. Miyabi. Tsuki wasn't too familiar with her as he wasn't as close with their family before he moved to the big city. Pipi hadn't been born yet, but Miyabi and Yori had been planning to have a baby, he remembered.
She was a beautiful woman. Her reddish-brown fur seemed to shine in the sun and her hazel eyes shone like gemstones. Her personality matched her appearance, too; kind and sweet yet strong and determined. He couldn't blame Yori for falling for her. He was a teenager at that time, but he remembered having a small crush on her.
Her death came suddenly, mere days after Pipi was born. There had been birth complications; she had to stay in the hospital longer than the average mother and it ultimately led to her passing.
He remembered getting a call from Chi. He was just leaving work and was only seconds out of the office elevator when he was hit with the news. While the memories were blurry, he could clearly recollect how he had walked aimlessly onto the train and only when he made it back to his apartment did he cry. It was odd, crying for someone he didn't quite know. But it felt all the same. Grief didn't discriminate, much to his dismay.
Pipi was quiet for a moment before nodding slightly. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“I’ll go. I’ll go to the city with Ami-san.”
Yori looked at her for a moment with an expression that Tsuki couldn’t quite understand. There seemed to be too many yet too little feelings painting his face. The closest thing he could think of was guilt. Guilt that came from having to use the memory of his late wife to convince his young daughter to go somewhere unfamiliar.
“Are you sure, Pipi?” Tsuki asked.
Pipi nodded, now filled with newfound confidence. “I’m sure.”
Yori smiled softly before speaking. “I’ll call Ami-san.”
“Okay…” Pipi got up from where she was sitting and began trudging up the stairs.
When she was out of sight, Yori let out an audible breath. He leaned back in his chair with a heave and buried his head in his hands. “Damn it…”
“You alright, Yori?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Tsuki,” Yori said. Tsuki’s ear twitched at the admission, surprised. “I don’t know if I’m making the right choice.”
“Well, if you ask me, I think you are,” Tsuki said. “Pipi deserves to go to school and she can’t do that without sending her out of the village.”
“I know, but…” Yori looked at him with regret. “I wish I hadn’t mentioned her mom.”
“Ah.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. I knew that she would say yes if I said it, and I did.”
Tsuki wasn’t sure what to say. In his mind, it did sound a bit cruel to use her dead mother to make her do something she didn’t want to do, a child no less. But, on the other hand, Pipi needed to go to the city. There were no schools close to the village; they were practically isolated. She needed to connect with other people, connections that aren't adults years older than her.
“I think you did your best,” Tsuki said, finally. “Pipi needs this.”
“Mm.” Yori closed his eyes, soaking in the rays that shone through the window. “I still have to call Ami.”
“Right… I’ll leave you to it,” Tsuki said. He began to walk out of the store, but stopped before his hand moved to touch the doorknob when he heard his name. “Huh?”
“Thanks,” Yori said. “For being here for Pipi.”
Tsuki felt his chest fill with warmth. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “It’s really no problem, Yori. I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yep, I’ll see you later, Tsuki.”
Exiting the store, Tsuki felt the emotions he’d been holding in the cold breeze. Inhaling deeply, the smell of the trees and sea salt calmed him. In all honesty, he hated the idea of Pipi leaving. He would miss her. All their talks, fun activities, strolls around the village. But he didn’t dwell on it for long. He knew that she would be back for every summer break. He could just imagine Yori’s face brightening at the sight of his daughter stepping off the train with her red randoseru and shining smile.
That was a thought for another day. For now, he would enjoy Pipi’s company for as long as she stayed here.