When I opened the door of my parents' house, my father, Gozo, folded his newspaper and looked up.
"Well, Haruka. So you've finally made your move."
Without a word, I set the file on the table. Dad leafed through it, and when he reached the last sheet—the land registry certificate—he broke into a grin.
"Still don't cry, do you?"
"If I had time to cry, I'd spend it getting the paperwork in order."
My family runs a construction company in our hometown. It was my father's company that had built that house, too. Ten years ago, when I married Keisuke, my father told me this:
"You never know when a man'll betray you. I'll buy the land with my own money and put it in your name. I've squared it with the tax accountant so there's no tax owed when it's handed over to you. The building, my company'll build it and keep it under the company. Let that man live there and pay rent. No debt in Keisuke's name, no share of the house—I won't let him have one yen of it, not one sliver."
Back then, I laughed at my father's worrying. "Keisuke isn't that kind of man," I told him. But my father was right.
The land was in the name of Haruka Shirase. The building belonged to my father's company. There wasn't a single yen of bank loan, and Keisuke's name appeared nowhere at all.
It was Keisuke, too, who had chosen which surname to take. Shirase, the construction company with a well-known name around here—he wanted that sign so badly he took my surname without a moment's hesitation. He hadn't even been adopted into the family. If we divorced, he would go back to his old name. Like returning a borrowed sign.
And the mortgage Keisuke was convinced he was "paying ninety thousand a month on"—no such thing had ever existed in the first place.
"That man still hasn't figured it out?"
"No. He's convinced he's paying a mortgage to the bank. The withdrawal is labeled 'Housing Expense.' And it goes to the property management company that your company set up."
"So my company's the landlord and he's the tenant, eh?" Dad grinned. "And he doesn't even know it. Bet he's never looked at a single withdrawal statement."
"No. In ten years, he's never once asked to see the bankbook. 'I earn it, you manage it'—that was his favorite line, so even with 'Housing Expense' in the description, he'd have had no way of noticing."
Three years ago, from the night I found a hotel receipt in his jacket, I had quietly begun preparing.
Those ninety thousand yen were nothing but rent for living in the company's building. However much he paid, it didn't add a single yen to his assets. Without ever realizing it, Keisuke had spent ten years paying rent to my family. The land had long since been given to me by my father, bought with his own money. Not a sliver of that man's money had ever been mixed into it.
The next day, I visited the office of my lawyer, Ms. Tachibana.
Ms. Tachibana was a woman in her forties who never let any emotion whatsoever show on her face. She went through the file one sheet at a time, then spoke evenly.
"The evidence of infidelity is sufficient. Hotel records, messages, the report. A claim for damages will go through."
"I don't want it to look like I'm the one who asked for the divorce."
"Rest assured. He's the one who said 'Divorce—get out,' and he's moved his mistress in. That's malicious abandonment, and a divorce demanded by the spouse at fault. Legally, he's at an overwhelming disadvantage."
Ms. Tachibana's hand stopped turning the pages.
"And this land register. The land is in your name, and the building is owned by your father's company. Your husband has no rights of any kind. If anyone should be told to get out, it's him."
"Exactly."
"Just to be sure—you're the one who was thrown out, correct?"
"Yes. 'Be out by tomorrow,' he said."
The corner of Ms. Tachibana's mouth moved by a single millimeter. She might have been smiling.
"Then it's unlawful occupation. Two people with no rights at all are squatting in your house."
I took one more document out of my bag. Seeing it, even Ms. Tachibana raised her eyebrows slightly.
"This is... from a bank?"
"I asked the representative at my father's bank. He can come with us the day after tomorrow."
"A banker? What for?"
I smiled.
"Keisuke believes he's paying a mortgage. So—he ought to be told officially, by that very 'bank.' He ought to properly learn the truth."
Ms. Tachibana closed the file and, for the first time, looked me straight in the eye.
"Ms. Shirase. You're the type I'd rather not have as an enemy."
"I hear that a lot. From everyone but my husband."
When I stepped out of the office, the sky was clear.
My phone buzzed. A message from Keisuke.
when r u coming for ur stuff. miyu wants to redecorate asap lol
I sent a short reply as I walked.
I will come by on the afternoon of the day after tomorrow. There will be a few more of us than you may expect; thank you for your understanding.
I pressed send and looked up at the sky.
The day after tomorrow. With my father, a lawyer, and a banker.
I'm going home. To my own house.