Groceries

Hana had been playing video games all night, but she still got up early in the morning.

Jun was heating up some soy milk when he saw her come downstairs and asked in surprise, "Why are you up so early? Did you not get enough sleep?"

Hana replied that she was fine, went into the kitchen, and helped warm up some breakfast. After they finished breakfast, Jun received a phone call and retreated to his study. Hana sat in the living room, browsing on her PT, while also keeping a video connection open with Airi. On the other end, Airi was showing off the chubby cheeks of her three-year-old grandson.

Hana glanced at the screen, "He's pretty cute."

The two of them chit-chatted for a bit, and when Airi had to leave, Hana ended the video call and got up to get a glass of water. As she passed by the study, she noticed that the door was ajar and peeked inside.

Jun was working on a light screen, writing something. Modern devices offer various input methods like typing and voice, but Jun preferred handwriting input. This was different from traditional handwriting, as the device would retain the style of the writing, essentially mirroring manual writing.

Jun had beautiful penmanship, and Hana fondly remembered a love letter he had written her years ago. The letter had been stashed away underneath their marriage certificate and other documents. She wondered if it was still there.

Noticing her gaze, Jun put down his pen. "Is something wrong? Do you need anything?" He seemed ready to get up, but Hana waved her hand dismissively. "No, carry on with what you were doing," she said before heading back to the living room.

In the living room, there hung a wall clock. It was a regular, circular clock, not one of those modern smart clocks that display real-time weather, temperature, and humidity. Born over half a century ago, Hana had old-fashioned habits, like using this kind of clock. It was a form of nostalgia for her.

When the shortest hand on the clock pointed to nine, Hana tidied up a bit and prepared to leave. Jun was still engrossed in his writing in the study, but Hana called out to him.

"I'm stepping out for a bit."

Jun looked up immediately. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Hana casually said, "No, it's fine. You keep working. I'm just heading to the neighborhood grocery store to pick up some vegetables. I'll cook dinner tonight."

At this, Jun promptly stood up, pen still in hand. "No need, I'll go do the shopping. You stay home and rest."

He paused and then added, "Didn't you buy a game you haven't completed yet?"

Hana had initially thought it was no big deal, but seeing the tension hidden deep in Jun's eyes, she paused. "Really? Once bitten, twice shy? I don't think I'm that unlucky to time-travel again just by going out to buy groceries."

Jun didn't say much, just silently capped his pen and got up, looking like he intended to accompany her.

As he changed his shoes, Hana, arms crossed, said, "I've been back for so many days and haven't gone out to buy groceries. You can't possibly accompany me every time."

Jun was silent for a moment, heaving a hidden sigh. He knew it wasn't necessary, but hearing that she wanted to go grocery shopping alone made his heart skip a beat.

"For the first time, let me go with you to familiarize yourself. After that, I won't... go with you," he said.

Both stepped out into a sunny day. The community was mostly inhabited by older people and children; young adults were scarce. Sunlight filtered through gaps in the towering plane trees, casting patches of light on the ground. The quiet neighborhood road seemed tranquil as Hana stepped on these patches of light while walking forward.

She walked leisurely, occasionally glancing at the yards on either side. About ten minutes in, Jun delicately said, "This short path, I'm used to walking it. Usually takes me about ten minutes to reach the fresh produce supermarket."

Internally, Hana thought, 'So, I've been slowing down for the old man, and now he's griping about it?'

She quickened her pace and soon reached the local supermarket at the end of the road. Convenient lifestyle supermarkets were now ubiquitous in most residential communities, making shopping more convenient than ever. Having researched nearby stores and buildings, Hana found the actual assortment of fresh produce even more appealing—quite tempting to a shopper's eyes.

Grabbing a small cart like the middle-aged women around, she headed for the meat section. Jun claimed to be there to help her get acquainted, but Hana found she needed no such help. She easily selected items, even when faced with unfamiliar new types of fruits and vegetables, without any sense of surprise.

Jun watched her chat casually with the fish counter clerk and suddenly remembered that in their youth, it was Hana who had the stronger adaptability. When arriving at a new place, while he was still getting his bearings, she could already navigate the nearby streets, knowing where to get food, drinks, and essentials. She could even recognize the neighbors within three days.

Compared to her, Jun felt lacking. He had always been this way, academically focused, but lacking practical life skills like quickly adapting to new environments and people. Now, older and more experienced, he seemed more composed than in his younger days.

Before their marriage, the two had gone on a trip together. It wasn't a faraway destination—just a famous ancient town in the country, because both didn't have much time to spare.

Jun's seniors had advised him that this was a "test" from Hana to see if he was marriage material. Young Jun had been extremely anxious, thinking a poor performance might lead to a breakup. He meticulously researched itineraries and routes.

However, once they arrived, Jun found his research mostly useless. Compared to his cautiousness, Hana was much more relaxed. On their first visit, she quickly found a direct bus to their lodging. After dropping their luggage, she immediately led him out to eat. Jun referred to his well-researched guide and took her to a highly-rated restaurant, only to find the food expensive and unimpressive. Unfazed, Hana touched her half-full belly, pulled him into a small eatery she thought smelled delicious, and the food turned out to be excellent.

For the rest of the trip, Hana made most of the decisions. Jun's role was reduced to luggage carrier. Eventually, his initial apprehension evaporated, and he enjoyed himself. They explored famous and obscure sites alike and even spent an afternoon enjoying the scenery at a beautiful yet secluded spot.

After the brief journey, Jun felt he had failed the "test." Hana laughed it off: "What test? I just wanted to have fun with you. Who says you, as my boyfriend, have to take care of me? I'm three years older than you, young dude. If anyone should be taking care of someone, it should be me taking care of you."

Now, the tables had turned; he was 37 years older than her.

Jun had lived here for many years and had seen the fish counter clerk for some of them. Today was the first time he found out she had a son attending a marine university. He looked at Hana with admiration, thinking she was even more dazzling now than before.

After they finished grocery shopping, Hana pointed to another road, asking, "Can we get home this way?"

Jun nodded. "Yes, but I rarely walk that way."

Hana decided, "Then let's take this route."

It was Hana's habit to familiarize herself with at least five streets surrounding any place where she lived. Jun adjusted his glasses and followed her, holding a bag of grapes.

"Let me carry some vegetables for you," Jun offered.

Hana nonchalantly handed him a fish.

"I can manage more; you can give me the pork ribs too," said Jun.

"Why do you talk so much?" Hana retorted.

Jun remained silent.

"Fine, fine," Hana conceded, rummaging through her bag and shoving two ears of corn into his hands. "Here, carry these corn as well."

Jun glanced at her substantially larger bag but decided not to say anything further.

The route they were taking was about half as long again as the one they took to get there. Along the way, they passed a childcare center, essentially a modern-day kindergarten. It was set up for the community, catering to children who lived nearby, ranging from toddlers to five- or six-year-olds. These kids were playing on the artificial turf, looking like chubby white radishes planted in the ground. Occasionally, an unsteady one would stumble and fall, rolling around like a ball on the soft lawn.

Although adorable, when these little beings started crying, the childcare center transformed from heaven to hell, the cherubic angels turning into noisy little monsters.

Observing the children's activities from behind the fence, Hana commented to Jun, "It's good to see that childcare centers still exist, given how many professions have disappeared. At least I won't be unemployed."

Before her life took a turn, Hana had been a kindergarten teacher. She was a rebellious youth back in her school days, prone to fighting with boys and even local hoodlums. She had a demeanor that said she answered to no one. However, after her grandmother passed away, she turned over a new leaf. In accordance with her grandmother's last wishes, she took the college entrance exam seriously and majored in early childhood education. She became a successful kindergarten teacher, in charge of her own group of kids every day.

Three years after graduating, during a high-school reunion, her classmates were flabbergasted to hear she'd become a kindergarten teacher. They found it hard to reconcile this with the girl who used to pick fights and act rebelliously. 

Not only did Hana become a kindergarten teacher, but she was also the most popular one in her facility. The children affectionately called her "Flower Sensei ('Hana' means 'flower' in Japanese)," and kids from two different classes would often end up in tears, vying for her attention.

Doing some quick calculations in her head, Hana realized that the children she once taught were now old enough to be her seniors, age-wise.