A nine-year-old boy was sitting on a couch in a living room of a house which he had never been inside before. It was a fine and well-decorated room, the kind which gave the boy a calm and tender feeling. He could smell the aroma of fresh coffee coming from the kitchen, where a young woman was preparing two cups of milk coffee.

He had seen the woman several times before. His own house was a few blocks from this place, and he enjoyed playing around the neighborhood with his friends. He often watched this house from the outside, wondering about the pretty flowers and plants in its yard which smelled like aromatic herbs, and the beautiful woman who occassionally came out of the house with a kind smile on her face. Never did he think that he would be invited into the house.

Only that he didn't give a good impression.

The woman, Hikari, was just arrived home when she saw the boy fighting with one of his friends. The boy got a few bruises and his friend ran away, but before the boy could do anything, Hikari brought him into the house and treated his injuries. After asking his name and talking a few minutes with him, she offered to make him a cup of milk coffee.

When she was back, the boy wondered wether he should tell her about his arguments for fighting. However, he kept his mouth shut and drank from the cup.

"Kojirou..."Hikari said, "Apropos of what we were just talking about, how is your mother and father?"

"Dad died after suffering cardiac arrest, "he explained shortly, "A few months ago."

"Oh, I'm truly sorry."

The boy nodded. Talking about his father's death with a complete stranger was quite an art. He would be ashen-faced if he was asked about this several weeks earlier.

"What about your mother?"

"We were...expecting a new arrival in the family, "he said, "I'm going to be a big brother."

"Really? Isn't that nice, Kojirou?"

"I'm not sure..." he mumbled, "I'm not good with younger kids. You saw me fighting with one just now."

"Can you tell me why you fought?"

He said nothing. He was ashamed to admit that he was actually the one to blame.

Hikari patted her head.

"Don't worry. I am a teacher. I have heard many reasons why children like you fought with each other, and it's nothing to be ashamed of."

He looked up to her warm eyes.

"Well..." he started, "It was because of chocolate."

"Please continue."

"His father gave him a lot of chocolate, but he wouldn't share with me, then we argued, and so on..."

Hikari smiled. From the way the boy mentioned 'his father' with such a bitter voice, it was apparent that he was jealous of his friend who still had a father.

"Do you know? I once had a fight myself with one of my friends."

"Really?" he looked curious.

"And it is not just any friend. Do you want to know?"

"Yeah, I do."

"He is one of the best friends I've ever had. He cares a lot about me, and he always tries his best to keep his friends happy. He is good in sports and literature, too. I admire him very much...

But one day, when we were junior high students, we had a big fight. It started off as a very simple and pointless argument: He didn't want to attend a parent and child event in our school."

"Why is that?"

"Because he comes from a broken home. His father is alive, but it's almost the same like he has no true father anymore.

During that time, his family were so busy with their own work that he was always left alone in his house. When I knew this, I tried to invite him to attend such events, but he refused and it somehow grew into a big argument. He said, 'You don't understand because you've never lost a father and brother.' We stopped talking with each other since then.

However, I was not comfortable with it. I could not stop thinking about him since that day."

"Why is that?"

"Because I really, really like him..." she said, "I felt terribly guilty because I realized I might have hurt his feelings. I tried to contact him several times, but I only got the answering machine. I tried my best to meet him, but I always failed to see him. He didn't even come to my birthday party. It was so hopeless that I thought our friendship was going to end.

But that night on my birthday, after the party was all over, I heard a knock on the door. He was there, wearing a thick sweater and a scarf, with an obviously exhausted face. He bowed down to me, handed me a messily-wrapped present, and said, 'I am sorry.'

He was working part-time all this time to buy me a special gift. A gift I once jokingly told him to buy me once I turned fifteen.

I couldn't hold up my feelings anymore. In front of him, I cried. I cried so much after not being able to talk to him for so long.

And that was how we became friends once again."

"You never fight anymore?"

"Well, sometimes, "she laughed, "But we always make up after that."

Hikari stood up and looked out of the window.

"It seems that your friend is outside..." she said, "Don't you want to say something to him?"

Kojirou nodded silently. He stood up and walked to the front door. He turned back to Hikari and said shyly, "Thank you."

"It's nothing, "Hikari waved to him, "Be nice to your friend from now on."

"I will, "he said, "Uhm, what is your name, Miss? And how are you and your friend now?"

"I am Hikari Takaishi, "she replied, "And my husband and I are getting along very well."

end