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622 – The Son-in-Law of Kyoto
🕑 Added 2025-10-29 19:33:42 +0000 UTCKyoto didn’t just lack an airport even its subway system wasn’t exactly what you’d call “developed.”
Maybe it was because there were too many historical buildings that needed protecting, or maybe the people of Kyoto simply preferred the slow, swaying rhythm of their city buses.
When it came to urban planning, Tokyo was a whole different story if they wanted to build a road, they just built it.
No worries about heritage sites or stubborn holdouts; someone had long since taken care of those “obstacles.”
The Kamo River wasn’t some tiny stream, it ran through the heart of Kyoto.
The Kamogawa Triangle, where the Kamo and Takano rivers converged beneath the Kamo Bridge, marked the point where it truly became the “Kamo River.”
Each section of the river offered its own unique view, but none were more beloved than the Kamo Delta and its lower stretches.
As a Kyoto native, Yamauchi Sakura knew the area like the back of her hand.
She also knew that even though Kyousuke had been running since childhood, when it came to actually getting to the running spot, he’d rather die than walk a single unnecessary step.
If he could ride, he would.
If he could pedal, he would. So she carefully picked a bus route that stopped just three minutes from the riverside.
But honestly, how beautiful could a river be?
Sure, stunning scenery might make you gasp for a moment, but what truly leaves people enchanted is the soul behind the scenery, the history, the culture, the heartbeat of the people.
That was the Kamo River.
The Kamo River is Kyoto, and Kyoto is the Kamo River.
Right next to Kyoto’s most bustling Sanjo and Shijo streets, this river had witnessed centuries of life.
Two hundred years ago, the people of Kyoto washed clothes in its water, used its flow to prevent fires, dyed fabrics, and traded along its banks.
Merchants from across the land gathered here, shipping goods nationwide.
From childhood to adulthood, everyone had their own memories of the Kamo catching fish as kids, walking hand-in-hand as lovers later on.
Even today, on a spring night, Kyotoites still filled their stomachs along the glittering food stalls of Pontocho, then strolled the riverside paths with a takeaway snack in hand.
The soft night breeze from the river, the laughter of passing strangers and all of it seemed to wash away the day’s fatigue and worries, drifting gently downstream.
From the moment Sakura stepped foot in Kyoto, her voice naturally slipped into the local Kyoto dialect.
Because his family had roots all over Japan, Kyousuke was pretty familiar with the major dialects.
Out of all of them, Kyoto’s was his favorite its sound elegant, soft, and lilting.
Even someone as energetic (or short-tempered) as Sakura couldn’t help but slow her speech when using it, making her sound irresistibly sweet and just a little easy to tease.
Every sentence ended with a charming lilt:
“Thank you~!”
“What are you doing~?”
“I really like you~!”
In contrast, there was Osaka right next door, they were so close geographically, yet their speech was worlds apart.
Osaka-ben was loud, fast, and full of energy.
When a Kyoto native talked with an Osakan, you’d swear that is sound like the Osakan was bullying them.
Honestly, Osaka-ben suited Eriri more, the kind of tough-sounding voice that tried hard to act strong, even when she wasn’t.
The more she bluffed, the more you’d want to tease her and the more fun it became.
Once they got on the bus, something unexpected happened.
Sakura actually ran into two elderly acquaintances. “Elderly” might not have been the right word though; after introductions, they turned out to be only seventy, and they looked more like spry fifty-year-olds.
And somehow because Sakura had been chatting away as usual.
The two “young grandpas” ended up each holding one of Kyousuke’s arms and insisted he take their seat.
He tried to refuse, but they were adamant.
“This is the treatment a Kyoto son-in-law deserves!”
Meanwhile, Sakura stayed standing, holding the rail between two old ladies and chatting animatedly.
Their conversation quickly turned into a cheerful session of “teasing Tokyo and praising Kyoto,” and soon the entire bus was laughing along.
Between sentences, Sakura glanced over at Kyousuke and gave him a little wink, as if to say,
‘See how amazing I am?’
Kyousuke could only smile helplessly, feeling that this love although warm it was a little heavy to carry.
Sakura’s charm was something innate.
No matter who she talked to she always managed to connect naturally.
To juniors, she was a dependable senior; to friends, a kindred spirit; and to older people, a bright, polite, adorable girl.
Her voice had this gentle, musical quality even a three-syllable phrase seemed to linger in the air.
Truly elegant… though you needed patience for it.
Anyone with a short temper would lose it before she finished a sentence.
Her bubbly personality didn’t seem to fit Kyoto’s calm, deliberate pace and yet somehow, it worked perfectly.
Kyousuke sat in the seat Sakura had “stolen” from the two old grandmas, quietly watching her.
She laughed, she chatted, and even the famously reserved Kyoto locals couldn’t help but be drawn in.
People who’d just finished shopping offered him snacks, and one even handed him a fan from a store promotion, saying he could use it to cool off.
No one openly praised Sakura’s energy, but when the old ladies gently told her to lower her voice, Kyousuke knew it wasn’t real scolding.
It was their way of keeping anyone else from complaining.
The only thing that made him just a little jealous was how sweet Sakura’s Kyoto accent sounded, when she said something on it every sentence felt like a playful whisper.
Luckily, her conversation partners were all well into their seventies.
After a while, Kyousuke pieced together that the two men were actually former colleagues of Sakura’s grandparents who is both long retired.
When Sakura introduced him, she naturally said, “This is my boyfriend,” and of course, proudly mentioned that Kyousuke was both a novelist and a manga artist.
The two elders, though polite, couldn’t help gasping in surprise, and before they got off the bus, they told Sakura to bring him over next time “just like when you were little.”
“Hehe okay! I’ll definitely come next time!”
Sakura waved energetically, her perfectly straight teeth flashing in the sunlight.
“Ah, it’s been so long since I last saw Grandpa and Grandma Morimi. I’m so glad they’re still doing well!”
As she spoke, she naturally linked her arm with Kyousuke’s, tilted her smiling face up toward him, and grinned.
“Well? Aren’t you glad you came out with me today?”
Like some overexcited fairy, she looked like she was expecting a reward.
And honestly even if making old folks give up their seats wasn’t exactly something to brag about, it was exactly as Sakura said.
It was pure joy.
Most boyfriends give up their seats for their girlfriends.
But Sakura scams elderly people into giving one to me instead.
“If it happens again, I’ll just squat down and let you sit on my lap,” Kyousuke muttered, turning his face away to hide his smile.
He couldn’t bring himself to admit how happy he actually was.
“Hehe Kyousuke’s embarrassed, huh?” Sakura teased, holding onto his arm and leaning forward to look up at him, her Kyoto accent soft and melodic.
That gentle, drawn-out tone could melt anyone’s heart and Kyousuke wasn’t immune to it either.
Before he knew it, his arm had slipped around Sakura’s back, pulling her closer by the waist.
After they got off the bus, they followed the flow of pedestrians, crossing two streets before arriving at the Kamo Bridge.
From here, Mount Hiei stood to the north, Higashiyama to the east, and far in the distance, the famous Mount Nyoigatake with its giant “大” character was clearly visible.
“This is the best place to watch the Daimonji Bonfire festival!”
Leaning over the railing, Sakura stretched her upper body out dangerously far, shielding her eyes with one hand as she gazed into the distance, completely unbothered by how close she was to falling.
If Kyousuke was nearby, though, there really wasn’t anything to worry about.
“We’ll come watch it together this year,” he said, his hand resting gently on her back as they both admired the mountains.
In the fading light, the day’s mist had begun to settle, giving the forest a deep, tranquil hue.
The Daimonji Bonfire was held on five mountains surrounding Kyoto.
Gigantic bonfires were lit in the shape of kanji characters.
It was so large they could be seen from tens of kilometers away.
Environmentalists would probably faint on the spot if they saw it, but fire safety wasn’t a concern; hundreds of people stood near each fire pit, ready to extinguish it if needed.
The festival was meant to send off the spirits of ancestors who had returned during Obon, much like Halloween.
“It gets really crowded,” Sakura said, turning back to him. “They say so many people get pushed off the bridge every year that the Kamo River nearly stops flowing!”
Kyousuke chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll toss them all into the river before they can touch us.”
“Hehe that’s my Kyousuke”
Below the bridge, the Kamo River shimmered under the light.
The current wasn’t strong, but the soft rush of water could still be heard even through the city’s noise, blurring the line between the urban and the serene.
One bank was slightly higher than the other, leaving part of the stone riverbed exposed.
“Come on, let’s go turtle-hopping!” Sakura suddenly announced, jumping off the railing and grabbing Kyousuke’s hand before he could react.
She really didn’t fit Kyoto’s calm, laid-back rhythm but that was part of her charm.
They followed a small path down to the riverside.
Although nearby Osaka was the true “City of Water,” its rivers were lined with fences and used mostly for transport.
Kyoto’s Kamo River, however, was open and alive.
It is filled with a lined with people strolling, fishing, or picnicking.
On sunny days, groups of kindergarten kids could be seen playing by the river, their laughter blending with the sound of the current.
Even if one of them fell in, someone nearby would jump in to rescue them before they could cry out.
Not far from the bridge was the Kamo Delta, where the Kamo and Takano rivers met.
The river widened here, and across it stretched a Tobi-ishi—a “stepping stone bridge” made of rocks set slightly above the water’s surface.
Some were square, others shaped like turtles or stars.
This was the “turtle jump” Sakura had mentioned.
“When I was in kindergarten, we used to come here all the time,” she said, stepping carefully onto one of the square stones. “It was like our own little courage test.”
Though she balanced perfectly, Sakura still flailed her left arm dramatically while keeping her right hand locked around Kyousuke’s, as if ready to drag him into the river with her.
“Hmph, if you’d been around back then, Kyousuke, we would’ve been the strongest couple in class!”
Kyousuke smirked as she rambled on about her childhood.
How she’d nearly fallen the first time, got teased for it, then stormed across five stones in a row just to prove herself, eventually becoming the “boss” of the kids by mastering the art of stone-hopping.
Just like every Kyoto native, Sakura’s childhood memories were all tied to this river—the Kamo.
Then suddenly, she stopped mid-step.
“Hmmm…” Sakura hummed thoughtfully, crouching down.
Still holding her hand, Kyousuke crouched beside her and followed her gaze.
She was gently touching the stone beneath her that is shaped like a turtle.
“See, this turtle…” Sakura said with sparkling eyes, “…doesn’t it look like me?”
“Huh? You and a turtle?” Kyousuke blinked, completely thrown off by her logic.
Even after growing up together, he still couldn’t keep up with how her brain worked.
His mind raced for explanations, but none of them made sense.
“…Because you’re both cute?” he guessed.
“Hehe~” Sakura giggled proudly. “Well, I am cute, but that’s not it!”
Passersby glanced at the two of them, smiling as they walked past.
Kyousuke tilted his head. “Then what do you mean?”
“I don’t know!” she said cheerfully, standing up and brushing off her hands. “Guess we’re not that alike after all~”
She said it so casually, without a hint of disappointment, then tugged on his hand and started skipping forward again across the stones.
And somehow, that made Kyousuke think she really was like the turtle weathered by time and the world, but still smiling, still moving forward no matter what.
“If you think every word I say has some deep meaning,” Sakura said, laughing, “then you’re even dumber than I thought, Kyousuke!”
