The afternoon sun was a little fierce.
I sprawled in a wicker chair in the front yard.
I held a handful of dirt-covered five-spice peanuts.
I shelled them slowly.
Bits of red peanut skin scattered everywhere, and I couldn't be bothered to sweep them up.
I let the hot breeze blow them into the damp soil.
The sun weighed down my eyelids, and I had just closed my eyes to sleep.
A sudden thump came from the rickety wooden fence by the yard entrance.
It startled the sparrows in the tree into a flurry of wings.
That old rascal Jiraiya climbed over the fence, making the wood creak under his weight.
He was covered in dust, with two decaying leaves stuck to his clothes.
He had two bottles of cheap sake tucked against his chest and carried an oil-paper parcel.
Grease had soaked through the paper, and the charred aroma of grilled meat wafted from it.
Jiraiya wiped the dust off the tip of his nose with his thumb.
He grinned at me, bunching up every wrinkle on his face.
"Hey, Sen, all you do in broad daylight is lie around like a corpse."
"I could see you from miles away, sprawled there like a boneless lump of mud."
I didn't even sit up, just gave him a sidelong look.
"Old man, quit wobbling around on my fence," I snapped.
"Are you paying if it collapses? Coming here first thing in the morning just to mooch some peace and quiet."
"Get down already. Look at all that dirt and dust on you."
"You're getting it all over the tea I just brewed."
Jiraiya let out an indignant squawk and hopped lightly to the ground.
He thumped the two bottles onto the rough wooden table.
Brushing dust from the hem of