Cheer.

A semi-autobiographical novel by Mameta.

(I would be happy if you read it when you have free time)

The tired housewife M was not good at shopping in the evening.

"Isn't that M! Long time no see~"

If someone called out like that,

she would regret not wearing a mask and want to quickly escape.

Speaking of which, the disappointment with the face photo for the recent license renewal was intense.

Even though she had started a job making things she loved, it was a mysterious phenomenon that her face looked worn out.

She gave herself a pep talk.

"You can do the work you love, so enjoy it more."

Besides the eco bag, she had two shopping bags. The six-pack of canned beer was mercilessly heavy.

She was too tired to even open the mailbox door,

quickly grabbed the stack of flyers, and her feet headed for the stairs.

She felt there was a brown envelope among the flyers while going up the stairs,

but thought it was probably her husband's Amazon package.

So she went into the room, slowly put away the shopping bags,

scolded the child who was home alone,

and quite some time passed before she looked at the delivery.

"Good grief."

She had felt that way since waking up in the morning, until her attention was drawn to the delivery.

She saw the sender's name (akko).

No way.

But could this be what is called a "wonderful package" or "surprise delivery"?

Gently stroking her goosebump-covered arm, she quietly opened the brown envelope.

A soft fragrance wafted out.

She knew that her gifts always came with a scent,

and when everyone sniffed that scent,

many scenes she had seen repeatedly flashed through her mind in an instant.

There was no doubt.

An unexpected "thoughtfulness package" had arrived for M.

"Encouragement package" would also be a fitting name.

Akko was a creator whom M deeply respected.

M needed someones thoughtfulness and encouragement.

Whether akko knew it or not, she had prepared this thinking of M for some time.

M's body reacted to the gift delivered at that timing, her heart trembled, and she cried quietly.

Most of the gifts were her original works.

Remakes of scraps overflowing with her worldview.

Leather keychains with ticket designs.

Handmade labels full of vintage feel.

Mini envelopes collaged using things made by M.

She felt a consistent conviction in the things akko created.

It might not have been true, but M did not have the means to express it accurately.

And all of them were dazzling to M.

She felt a warm cheer along her skin. It was clear and definite.

M & Y.

M's initials.

She had seen it on akko's Instagram some time ago.

Yatsuba Mameta (Yappa Mameta), her still unimpressive name was proud at this moment.

This "thoughtfulness package" had another hidden role.

M had not noticed it yet.

But M was already under its magic.

She checked the bag many times a day, opening and closing it repeatedly.

Then she swallowed the scent deep in her nasal cavity and repeatedly felt reassured.

"Its okay. I just have to create. Because I wanted to create."

M's tired face was becoming positive in its own way.

Tomorrow, she would go out to look for hints for a new work with the new keychain.