Disclaimer - the main characters and some of the plot ideas of this story belong to Yoshizumi Wataru
Relationship Chart (Chapters 3, 4, & 5)
They were kissing.
Chiyako could hear her heart pounding, could feel the crackle of electricity surge along her spine and out through her extremities. Not a new feeling; she had kissed guys before. But prior experience didn't make the sensation any less thrilling.
Jin's lips were soft and dry, and, even at this late hour, she caught a whiff of aftershave. Chiyako felt a tingle along her spine. She inhaled his scent, savoring it. All of her senses were focused on this moment. The outside world faded leaving only the two of them, locked in the caress.
And then, after mere seconds that felt like minutes, realization, like a coiled snake, penetrated through to her consciousness. They were kissing.
They were kissing!
Chiyako sprung back, pressing herself into the chair. Her eyes snapped open to see Jin's bewildered face. Never had she felt such embarrassment, such mortification. Unable to continue facing him, she averted her eyes. Now she was looking straight at Rumi's bed. Even worse.
"Jin-" she started, then stopped, unable to use such implied familiarity. What could she say? "Koishika-" again her voice faltered. Chiyako gritted her teeth, willing herself not to cry. There's nothing you can say, fool!
She tried for a moment to disregard his presence, to focus only on herself. It was futile: they were sitting far too close in a room that was far too small. Not trusting her voice, Chiyako stood up, inched away while staring intently at the floor all the time. It almost certainly looked idiotic, but no place in the room felt safe. Her roommates possessions, and even her own, all served to remind her just whom this man belonged to.
"Chi-" Jin began.
It wasn't safe to listen to him either. She couldn't handle that just now.
Interrupting, she cried out. "I'm sorry, I. . ." once more her mind froze up on her. She racked her brain for something to say, anything at all. Oh my, look at the time, gotta run was all that came to mind. Her eyes strayed back to Jin. He was about to say something.
"Jin." she repeated, if only to stop him. His mouth snapped shut. Chiyako wished vainly for some magic phrase, which if spoken would cancel out what had just happened and twist the whole mess to a happy ending. If only this was a TV program, then she could have a commercial break to figure out what her next line should be.
Jin was still looking at her, waiting. Almost without thinking, Chiyako turned and fled.
She raced down the stairs two at a time, using the railing to pivot about the corner. In one fluid motion, she caught up her shoes and, still in her slippers, flew through the door. Out on the street, she spun into the first available alleyway. Was he following her? She couldn't risk looking back. Faster and faster she ran, switching roads and alleys at random, hoping her twisted path would deter him from following.
About ten minutes into her escape, Chiyako was completely winded. She could run no further and held on to a fence as she gasped for air. Ignoring the pounding of her own heart and the blood rushing in her ears, Chiyako strained to hear the sounds of someone running after her, of Jin calling her name. Idiot, she told herself, as if he'd want follow anyone like me.
But he's so kind, another part of her protested, he listens, he's nonjudgmental.
As if any of that matters now. What must he think of her?
Her ego continued whipping off self accusations, leaving Chiyako an opportunity to look about her. She was missing a slipper - it must have dropped off during the escape. Her face felt wet. She touched her cheek. Tears? Chiyako became aware that people were staring at her, discretely and in a way that they could pretend not to if she caught their eyes.
She tossed her head, angry. She slid her hurting feet into the sandals she'd been carrying, and deposited the lone slipper in a trash can with as much nonchalance as she could muster. On she strode, a steely look on her face. Recognizing the intersection ahead of her, she turned right, heading for the university park. She needed a quiet place, somewhere she could just stop and think.
She soon found a bench situated by a fountain in front of a playground. The area was thankfully empty at this time of night. Finding comfort in her solitude, Chiyako finally allowed her shoulders to sag.
What a fool. What an idiot. What a jerk she'd been! Chiyako forced herself to stop. She could go on like this for the entire night, and it wouldn't change anything. What was important was the present and the future, not the past.
Well, first off, she was definitely going to have to find a new roommate. No way Rumi would forgive kissing her boyfriend. Her mind strayed slightly as a thought struck her. Had she done that to spite Rumi, to hurt her for her "holier than thou art" attitude? Or had she done it to prove to herself that none of the things Rumi had said mattered? That Chiyako didn't need anyone's approval or good will? Hadn't she, by her actions, more than fulfilled Rumi's character accusations?
NO! A voice cried within her. If I truly was that rotten, that worthless, would Jin have listened to me, held me like that?
She found herself replaying the events of the evening in her mind. Jin's attention, his candid responses, his unprejudiced manner when she told him about her mother, the way he held her when she cried. Letting her memories pause there, Chiyako felt herself go warm. She had felt so secure, protected by his arms.
But lurking beneath those feelings had been powerful desire. Chiyako could no longer deny it, she had been physically attracted to Jin from the first time she caught him watching her in class. Seeing the love between him and her roommate, she had renounced those temptations, or had at least told herself she had.
But alone in her room with Jin, she had to acknowledge the truth. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to hold him. And knowing it was wrong, that she would regret it, only made her want it more.
It put her in mind of her sixth grade class trip to the Tokyo tower. Standing at the top, the city stretching out below her, Chiyako had been gripped by wicked, wild fancies. Before they were allowed to enter the elevator, her class had received lengthy speeches from both their tour guide and their own teacher about the dangerous power a coin would have if dropped from the top. It could crack cement, they were told, and if it could crack cement, imagine the appalling effects if it fell have on a person.
Her teacher looked the each student carefully in the eyes, willing them to accept the great responsibility of keeping their loose change in their pockets. For Chiyako, feeling the breeze from so high up, the risk of censure made contemplating the act more all the more tantalizing. She remembered fingering a 10 Yen coin. All she'd have to do was to give it a toss, and then. Then everything would change.
It wasn’t that she wanted to hurt anyone, or even split the pavement. It was just, standing there, she could clearly see two paths diverging from one another, one where she pushed the coin through the protective wire so it could fall to the earth, where she was caught, punished, marked for the rest of her life as a immoral and disobedient girl, and one where she simply got on the elevator and her destiny's path remained unaltered. Here was a chance to change everything, to step out of the confines of her carefully managed world.
Over the course of her life, she sometimes felt similar impulses, usually in the presence of danger. All those times she had resisted, and the chance would simply pass on and cease to exist.
But tonight, just like that trip to the Tokyo Tower, was different. Back then, the sixth grade Chiyako returned the coin to her bag and walked dutifully to the elevator. But then, at the last possible minute, just as the door began to open, she reached for her new camera, bought especially for the trip, and in the most of natural gestures, flung it over the barrier gate.
It spun in a lazy arch and would have made a glorious descent all the way to the ground had not the strap caught on a protruding bolt. There the camera hung, clear evidence of her guilt, until a guard rushed over with a pole-mounted hook to retrieve it.
The whole spectacle had been observed by her teacher, and naturally punishment followed. She was sent home early in disgrace and was forbidden to watch television for a month. They had even made her give a public apology. The young Chiyako dutifully accepted her penalties and suffered all the humiliation that came with them. What she couldn't do, to the infuriation the adults, was to explain why she did what she did.
For all that she wanted to claim credit for the act, it had been unconscious. When temptation was greatest, she had resisted. Her action afterwards had been automatic. It was as if someone else's spirit took command of her body, gratifying desires she knew she couldn't.
Tonight felt the same. She had wanted to kiss Jin so badly when he held her, for any number of reasons: carnal desire, to see his reaction, to prove she could do it, to show everyone that she wasn't just predictable old Chiyako. All these temptations she successfully resisted. And then, when he was comforting her, some part of her had gone and done it anyway.
Just as with the camera, her action had been witnessed, and this time, somebody had been hurt. She had got her wish: no going back to just being old Chiyako. Things were going to have to change.
Things would change. Strangely, Chiyako felt herself smiling with the relief this thought gave her. She couldn't change the past, but she could work on the future. Good. But as she sat there, nothing came to mind. She stared down at her feet and at the shadows cast by herself and the bench, and at the another shadow besides her own.
Chiyako looked up and around, suddenly alert. Someone stood just a few feet behind her. It was Matsuura Youji.
He was instantly apologetic.
"Namuki-san, I'm sorry to startle you. I usually walk by this way, it's not far from my apartment, and I recognized you. I would have said something, but you seemed so wrapped up in you thoughts, I didn't want to impose." He appeared so flustered that Chiyako's fear began to recede.
"So you were just standing there, watching me." She said, her voice level.
Matsuura now looked even more sheepish, "I'm sorry, but I- Well, I don't think this park is too dangerous, but you never know. I thought, just in case anyone might try to bother you, it might be best if there was a man around. Not that you couldn't have taken care of yourself, but, well. . ."
He ran out of steam, but his explanation did make sense. Matsuura-san was one of those decent guys who would do exactly that. And then Chiyako remembered, Matsuura was the first person she had hurt today, that event setting the stage for all that followed. She suddenly found herself getting embarrassed. He must still be very angry with her. Earlier this evening, she had claimed no responsibility for Matsuura's feelings, but Chiyako didn't have the energy to defend her own actions anymore.
"Matsuura-san," she began, "I'm sorry, about. . " There were so many things she was sorry for. Unable to stop herself, she felt tears starting to well up. What's the deal with this? the tiny impartial part of her brain sneered, I never cry.
"Namuki-san? Are you okay?" Matsuura said his voice filled with honest concern.
Chiyako could only trust herself to nod.
"Namuki-san, if it's about this afternoon, don't feel so bad. It was partly my fault. Really, I'm just fine." He gave her a half smile. Why was he being so nice to her?
"It's not- It's just- It's. . ." The whole situation was so silly. The original object of her wrath didn't even seem angry with her.
Chiyako found herself giggling, then laughing . It mixed with her tears and caused her to start hiccuping. Matsuura’s confusion turned to alarm as she hysterically began gulping for air. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, gently.
"Namuki, Namuki. What's the matter?"
Chiyako could only shake her head while she tried to regain calm. Matsuura released her and sat down next to her on the bench, concern showing on his face. Slowly, the hiccuping subsided. She gathered her thoughts, and began:
"I'm sorry, Matsuura-san. I don't know what happened. You were so concerned about me and it seemed odd. I mean, you should be spitting fire." She looked at his face, free of any complaints, and curiously added, "The day after our date you come to give me flowers only to see me out dating another guy. Aren’t you at least miffed?"
"I. . " he shrugged, giving her another one of his sheepish smiles. "At the time I was furious. But then I got to thinking. We just met. You could have made that other date earlier. And if you had, well, it's not something you would have brought up on our date is it?
"But, regardless, I think I was being a bit over-expectant. I mean, you're a beautiful woman. Any guy would want to date you. I was just too enthusiastic after one date. I really feel foolish about it now. " He paused, smiling endearingly. "I'd love to go out with you again, but it's your decision. No harm done, right?"
"Not exactly." Chiyako half laughed.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I got into a fight with Rumi over it, she moved out, Jin came over and I got him mad at me too. Quite the day, don'tcha think?"
Matsuura's eyes turned big as saucers. "We have to do something about this."
Chiyako just shook her head. "Nothing to be done."
"What do you mean, You aren't still mad at them, are you?"
"Of course not," was her reply, and she was pleased to find that she meant it. "But I'm sure they aren't too pleased with me."
"Well, then it's simply a matter of apologizing," Matsuura said in a perfectly self assured voice, "Sure they might be upset now, but I bet they'll forgive you. Koishikawa-san seems reasonable enough, and I know Yamashita-san won't hold a grudge. Especially if I let them know that I'm no longer hurt."
"You're being overly optimistic. It was a bad fight I had with Rumi," Chiyako decided not to even mention what had happened with Jin, "She said some things about me which are actually quite correct. I don't think apologizing will change me in her eyes."
This didn't seem to deter Matsuura-san, "What things?"
Chiyako sighed.
"Well, I was being a two timer. I did lead you on. I've never committed to dating a single guy. I play the field. I'm not serious with a man's feelings. I-"
"Hey," he cut her off, "You shouldn't get serious about someone unless you truly feel something for them. Right?"
"But I've never given any guy a chance. How would I know?" This was not her usual side of the argument, but it had been a strange day. At this very moment, Chiyako found herself unsure of even long held beliefs.
"Well," Matsuura paused, as if giving this last confession deep consideration. Then he barked a quick laugh, "Simple solution. Choose some guy and give him a chance. See if you feel differently after dating him seriously for say, a month or so. Logical experiment, evaluate the results and see if you're right or if Rumi is."
She had to laugh, he was so upbeat.
Nodding enthusiastically, he continued "So now you only have to pick the test subject. How about Hirokazu-san?"
"Most definitely not. One date with him was more than enough." Chiyako gave Matsuura a sideways glance, and on impulse proposed, "How about you?"
"Me?" He flinched back. "I- Look, Namuki-san, you don't have to. You don't have to take pity on me. I'm fully recovered."
"I'm not taking pity on you." She now looked him straight in the eyes, "I like spending time with you, honest. Besides, you're the one who proposed the experiment."
Matsuura dropped his eyes and seemed to consider this. When he looked up, he regained some of his customary self-confidence.
"All right. One month, and we'll see how this works out. But I have one condition."
"Name it," she commanded.
"See if you can make up with Yamashita-san and Koishikawa-san."
"I don't think-" Chiyako began.
He waved her objection off dismiss, "Just try, that's all I ask. Start with Yamashita-san. If you can convince her, then Koishikawa-san will be no problem."
Chiyako nodded agreement, stifling a clamor of internal protests. It was unlikely that the arrangement would work, but Matsuura looked so positive, and she had been miserable for enough of the day.
He offered to walk her home, and along the way he talked of everything but Rumi and Jin. Matsuura-san was polite, witty, and nicer than most guys she could remember, certainly better than that Hirokazu creep. And Unlike Rumi and Koishikawa, he didn't seem to hold her to some lofty standards. It felt nice to be accepted and not to be measured by provincial, old fashioned requirements.
With Matsuura she could be herself. No, that wasn't correct. With Matsuura she could be the sophisticated, cosmopolitan woman she wanted to project herself as. Maybe she did want a steady boyfriend. It often felt lonely here at University. Maybe that's why she'd made the pass at Jin, because as much as she scoffed at Rumi for being tied down to one person, there was a safety in that.
With Matsuura she could become the person she wanted to be.
******
It had been raining when Jin woke up Monday morning. It wasn't a hard rain, almost not worth bringing an umbrella to class. He was glad that he had, the sky had remained dismal and the rain continued to fall, never harder than a light drizzle, but always constantly there.
In a perverse way, Jin was glad for it. Its slow, dreary and yet continuous pace dulled his senses allowing him to go through the day pretty much on autopilot. Jin's feelings were a tangled mess, and he was glad for anything that allowed him to ignore them.
He sat in the entryway of his apartment, removing his shoes. Soon he'd have to see Rumi, and it caused his stomach to turn with discomfort. They had met briefly on Sunday, but she had a lab report due this week which kept her at the library most of the day. He took a deep breath, he couldn't put this off any longer.
Well, maybe a bit longer, he pleaded with himself, standing in front of his neighbor’s door. No, he had to do this. He hadn't said anything about his first experience with Chiyako and it and slowly snowballed into this whole mess. This latest incident was far more serious, he had to tell Rumi. She had a right to know. More than anything, he hated the thought of manipulating her.
With that, he knocked on the door once, and then again, more forcefully.
"In a second." a female voice sang out from inside.
A moment passed, and then the door was opened to reveal a small young woman. She was wearing a freshly paint splattered smock and had her hair pulled back it an unmannered ponytail.
Seeing Jin, she gave him an open smile, "Hey, Matsuura-san. Looking for Yamashita-kun?" she asked in a low throaty voice
When he nodded, she smiled more, eyes twinkling mischievously. "You, my dear friend, are bound for great disappointment. She is not currently in residence, having returned to her former place of abode to gather some possessions. Shall I alert her of your erstwhile search?"
"That would be most kindly appreciated ." replied Jin, matching her formality. Fukutani Yayoi was one of the strangest people he had met at college. She explained her weirdness was a byproduct of being a sixth year theater/art major, with no intention of graduating until her parents forced her to.
"Ooo Kay." she used English, pronouncing each syllable separately and gave him a wink as he left.
Fukutami's style was similar to Namuki's in that they both reveled in behaving in modern, nontraditional ways. But Fukutami's antics were just humorous, whereas Namuki's made him uneasy and uncomfortable. Why did Namuki's forwardness and brashness have such an effect on him? Possibly it was because he'd seen such a different side of her that night. He had seen her outward self-confidence crumble like a facade, revealing a vulnerable and easily hurt woman. It had surprised him, seeing that hidden Chiyako, so fragile and unsure. Maybe his actions had confused her, maybe he'd somehow been at fault.
No, he shook his head. He had not initiated the kiss. But he hadn't done anything to stop it either. And then she had run out, giving no explanation. Damnit, she owed him that much, at least.
Which one was real - Namuki, brazen and self-righteous, or Chiyako, unprotected and alone? Had she really needed a friend that night, or was he being made a fool of?
His uncertainty was why he'd been reluctant to talk to Rumi about the incident the whole weekend. Well, he wouldn't put it off any longer. Tonight he'd tell her the whole story.
He entered his room and stared out the window. There was a puddle along the rim. He wiped it off, and was about to leave to inform the landlord with a voice emerged from the lump of bed covers which he had assumed to be an unmade bed.
"Koishikawa-san," it rumbled, "There's a letter for you, on the table. Wake me at 4:00 will you."
Jin glanced at his watch, "It's already 4:15."
"Whatttt!!!" From underneath the covers, a figure emerged fully clothed, and moved like lightning for the door, "Oh no, the movie starts at 7:30."
"But wait," said Jin in a puzzle voice, "you can walk to the theater in no time. What's the rush."
"Premiere man, premiere." and that was all Jin heard as his roommate rushed out the door.
Sighing, Jin sat down and looked at the letter, it looked like a female's hand, but it wasn't Rumi's. Curiosity mixed with dread filled him as he slit it open and unfolded it. He scanned it once and then read it more carefully a second time:
Dear Koishikawa-san,
I am writing to apologize for my actions on Saturday night. There was no excuse and so I won’t try to give one. Furthermore, I do not ask for your forgiveness as I do not deserve it.
All I ask is that you allow me to try to change myself. I've talked to Matsuura-san and we have decided to start dating seriously. I'm not sure how well this will work out, but I have been honest with my feelings with him and will continue to be so.
I have also resolved to ask Rumi to forgive me and to come back and be my roommate. I am doing this because I honestly like her and like being around her, and not in any hopes of pursuing you.
You must believe me in this. I believe in the strength and steadfastness of your love for each other and will not try to end that. If you choose to avoid me, I will understand completely.
Finally, let me thank you for your support on Saturday night. Knowing your kindness makes me both more ashamed of my actions and more determined to be a better person.
Namuki Chiyako
While reading the note for the third time, the phone rang. Picking it up absentmindedly, Jin said,
"Hello, This is Koishikawa."
"Jin, it's Rumi," said an excited voice on the other end, "Sorry I stood you up last night, but I found out I had totally skipped a section on the report. As of this morning it is completely done and turned it."
"That's great." he said, his eyes still on the letter.
"How was your evening?" she asked coyly. "You told me you might spend it getting to know your roommate better."
"Well," replied Jin as tactfully as possibly, "There was definitely a cultural exchange going on. I told him about growing up in the country and what we really thought of tourists. And he explained the difference between a Gundam something and a Gundam something or other. I forget, but it seemed quite important at the time."
"I'm sure."
"Hey, where are calling from anyway? Are you at Fukutami-san's?"
"Actually, no, I'm at my apartment. You're not going to believe it, but I've decided to move back in with Chiyako."
"Really?" was all he could think to say.
Rumi's voice did not go defensive, but it did quiet down a bit. "I know this seems out of the blue. But I really have thought it through. We both have, actually. Chiyako and I had a long talk today, a real talk. She told me quite a few things about herself, and I think I understand her better now. I'm not saying that we won't have any more problems, but I think we can make this thing work."
For his part Jin, was silent. His mind was still pondering the letter, and now there was Rumi’s news to contend with. He didn't trust himself to speak. Rumi sighed and said;
"This is something I have to do for myself as well, Jin, and it's something I want to do. Even if I get hurt, learning to live with a stranger is a valuable skill. I can't give up after a single fight. You see that, don't you?" there was a pleading edge to her voice that told Jin she wasn't as sure as her words made her out to be. One word from him would stop her, would cause her to break any contact with Chiyako.
But Jin knew that if he did that, it wouldn't be for Rumi's sake, but his own. He didn't have the right to force Rumi into moving all her things and finding a new roommate because of his mistake.
"I do, Rumi. I think you're right to give it another chance."
"Really, you honestly mean that?" He could hear the relief in Rumi's voice.
"Yes, yes I do." Despite all logic, Jin found he was being completely truthful. They talked for a bit more, and then signed off.
After returning the phone to the receiver, Jin returned his attention to the letter. He read it again. Heaven help him, but he actually believed Chiyako, which didn't make any sense. She had given him every reason to distrust her. If she was truly as manipulative and he had previously suspected, then this would be precisely the letter that she would write.
Maybe his desire to trust her was too strong. But the other night, he was so sure that she had opened up to him and he wanted to believe that beneath the cool and sophisticated shell, was a Chiyako like the one he had seen.
Believe if you like, he told himself, but don't go near her. With that he had to agree completely. He owed it to Rumi. Above all, he would not hurt Rumi.
The rest of the evening was spent finishing work he had planned to do that weekend. It went okay, but somewhere in the back of his mind, something was nagging him. He had almost gotten to sleep when it finally occurred to him - He hadn't told Rumi about Saturday night.
Idiot! But how could he tell her now? He should have told her on the phone. But he had told her to go ahead and move back in. What would she think of him then? And whatever Namuki had told her, it couldn't have been the whole truth. So which parts had Chiyako left out?
Jin was fully awake now and knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep for some time. Well, now more than ever, he'd have to be sure to stay away from Namuki. Of that much, he was certain.
Rumi studied herself in the mirror. An experimental pirouette confirmed her suspicions. The team tennis skirt was short. Terribly short. She made a mental note not to bend over to pick up tennis balls. And serves, nothing too energetic until she purchased some of those gym shorts she saw the other girls in the locker room wearing.
Her mother would be scandalized, or at least Rumi hoped she might be. Growing up, Rumi had always longed after the fashionable clothes of her school friends, but her parents had insisted that she dress "modestly" until she graduated. Actually it was quite weird the way they changed their tone recently. The night before the ceremony she was still their little girl, and the day after she became the unmarried daughter, which in their minds was not an altogether appropriate state.
The hints were becoming less and less subtle. Mother had started sending clippings from classmate’s weddings, underlining details so Rumi could start planning.
She had made light of it to Jin, but deep down it worried her. No matter how much she loved Jin, Rumi wanted to get married because it was right for her, not because it was what her parents wanted. Back home, she'd felt like her life wasn’t on her own. It was part of the reason she had chosen a college far from home, so she could become someone on her own. One thing was certain, she was becoming someone who looked damn good in a tennis outfit. Now if only she could play better.
It was just her luck that for her first match she'd be scheduled to play against the captain of the tennis team, and not even in doubles. But it wasn't something she could contest, her being a freshman and all.
Walking onto the court, it wasn't hard to pick out her opponent. The best word to describe Hirokazu Nibashi was dashing. Almost six feet tall with incredible eyes, he reminded Rumi of a movie star she'd had a crush on in middle school. Whenever he smiled, he sparkled.
As if on cue, Hirokazu turned and graced her with one of those smiles. Rumi froze, fighting the urge to return to the locker room. Don't be a silly fool, she chastised herself, it's not like you didn't know who he was.
It was unjustified, but deep down, Rumi blamed the tennis captain for the horrible events of two weeks ago. Logically she knew Chiyako had accepted the date with him of her own free will, that Matsuura-kun had just accidentally seen them leave together, and that everything that followed had nothing to do with Hirokazu at all. Still, whispered a voice, that date was the catalyst. Without it, the chain reaction of temper clashes would never have come out.
No, Rumi knew that to be false. Their personalities and false expectations had all the characteristics of an exothermic reaction with its starting products destined to break down. Although it might have been more gradual, less violent.
As it was, things had pretty much worked themselves out. Chiyako and Matsuura seemed to be getting along well. And Rumi felt she and her roommate were becoming real friends. There hadn't been any more double dates; Jin kept making excuses, but otherwise things were going great.
She shouldn't worry about Hirokazu; it wasn't like Chiyako had any intention of dating him again. Chiyako had made that perfectly clear, although she hadn't wanted to discuss the particulars of the date.
So Rumi should just treat this as a normal match against a normal opponent. One that she was going to lose, big time. Oh, why couldn't play as well as her looked?
With trepidation, Rumi walked out to meet her opponent.
"Yamashita-san." he acknowledged her warmly, "Good to see you. I've been looking forward to this match."
Rumi returned his bow and found herself blushing. "You might not think that after the game, Hirokazu-san. I'm not terribly good at tennis."
"Oh, I'm sure you're being modest." He looked her squarely in the eyes as he assured her, and she had to fight the impulse to agree with him. It reminded her of her father's earnest stare. It would be so easy, so familiar, to just agree with him. So contrary to what she wanted. Steeling herself, she replied:
"Actually, no. I'm really quite a poor tennis player. I know the rules, but I can't even serve overhand. I'm sorry, I fear that I shall be no challenge for you except in the matter of patience."
There, she had said it. The ball was in his court, so to speak.
She watched as Hirokazu's face became puzzled, but then it took on the its former decisiveness.
"Well, you know, we don't have to do a real match. Let's just practice on your technique."
"Oh, I couldn't. To ask you to do such a thing, No, it's too much bother."
The upperclassman smiled gently, "It's not a bother at all. I've done a lot of instructing, I enjoy it quite a bit. The reason I'm president of the circle is I like getting others into the sport."
He seemed so sincere that Rumi found herself relaxing. No pressure to perform, and no feeling frustrated when she did poorly. She might even learn something.
Hirokazu turned out to be an excellent instructor, pointing things out to Rumi that she hadn't even known she'd been doing wrong. They spent almost a half-hour on her serve alone. Then they moved on to her backhand, which Rumi had always been uncomfortable with. Ten minutes to the end of scheduled time, they actually volleyed the ball back and forth. The president was being quite reserved in his style, but regardless, Rumi knew she had improved.
"I owe it all to you," she told him honestly when he complimented her afterwards. "I really don't know how to thank you."
"The pleasure was mine, Yamashita-san." he assured her, "But if you want to repay me, I know a delightful restaurant nearby. Would you care to join me?"
Rumi froze. A date?! She could feel her cheeks flushing as she tried to compose her thoughts. First he asks Chiyako out, and now her. Was his goal to date the entire freshman class?
Tossing her head, she let her voice take on a most arrogant tone, "We just met, I don't think that's appropriate. I don't know the first thing about you." Except that Chiyako flushed your roses down the toilet, not a good sign.
He seemed taken aback. "I thought this might be a good way for us to become better acquainted."
The gall! "I'm afraid you were mistaken then. While I appreciate all the help you've given me, I already have a boyfriend. I believe in dating only one person at a time."
Rumi added extra emphasis to the last statement. Maybe he'll get the hint. But when she turned to give him a meaningful glance, she found Hirokazu grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"What?" she asked. Had her words accidentally implied some lewd innuendo? She'd be so embarrassed if they had.
"Oh nothing. Nothing at all." his eyebrows raised slightly and his eyes dropped momentarily. Rumi found herself wishing for a much longer skirt. He continued, "It's just that you have more energy than I had expected, Yamashita-san. It's a good thing really. I like girls with spirit."
"Did you hear anything I said?"
"Oh, absolutely. You're going to be a challenge. I adore challenges."
He bowed , never dropping his eyes, spun about quickly, and left the court. Rumi watched him go, and under her breath whispered, "Sicko."
She continued to feel disgusted with him while she took a shower. She cooled down a bit as she changed into street gear. Now she found herself being merely flabbergasted by his audacity and cluelessness. The more she thought about it, the more ludicrous the situation became.
It was rather amusing. Hirokazu had been dumped by Chiyako and now he was trying to date her roommate, who was in a serious relationship. The poor guy probably had no idea what a fool he'd seemed. Well, she wasn't about to feel too sorry for him. If she found it humorous, she couldn't wait to tell Jin.
"You just won't believe what happened to me!" Rumi announced as she sat down across from Jin. The restaurant was crowded and Rumi was happy to see that Jin had already found a table.
He looked up from his menu and smiled, "You won your match?"
"Of course not, you know how badly I play."
"Well, you said I wouldn't believe you." he teased her.
She attempted to give him a withering look.
"You know who my opponent was, don't you? Captain Hirokazu-sempi, the one who went out with Chiyako?"
Rumi noticed Jin suppress a flinch at Chiyako's name. Something had happened the night Jin had gone to collect her things. Rumi suspected that Jin had lost his temper and said things he was now ashamed of. Chiyako had been mum on the subject as well, and Rumi, hoping it would blow over, hadn't forced the issue.
Rumi continued her monologue:
"We didn't actually play a game, it was more of a lesson. Hirokazu was behaving perfectly appropriately, until the end. And then he asked me out! Can you believe it, what a playboy!"
"What did you say?" asked Jin in a serious voice.
Rumi looked inquisitively at him. During the pause a waitress started to approach the table. On a wicked impulse, Rumi leaned forward and in a loud whisper said:
"I said I'd love to and kissed him passionately."
The waitress beelined away from the table and Rumi sat back, smiling.
"You're right," she giggled motioning at the retreating waitress, "I've caught CIS, Chiyako Impulsiveness Syndrome. What really happened was I told him I already had a wonderful boyfriend and turned Hirokazu-sempai down. I was rather angry at the time, but in a way he paid me a compliment. And you too, you're dating a highly sought after woman. Bet you didn't know that."
Rumi scanned the restaurant looking for the waitress she'd scared off. Maybe it hadn't been the best whim to indulge in. Jin was giving her a curious look, making Rumi uncomfortable.
"What is it?" she asked, "You aren't jealous are you?"
"Of course not," he avoided her eyes by returning to his menu.
Jin was impossible to read at times like this. Something was obviously bothering him, but what? It could be that he disliked Rumi's making fun of Hirokazu, or maybe he was angry at the forwardness of the tennis coach. It could even be, Rumi thought with hidden glee, that he's worried about losing her as a girlfriend.
With such a host of possibilities, Rumi began a soothing ramble, all the while trying to signal down the waitress. She was finding herself quite hungry by this point.
"It's nothing to get upset about, Jin. He didn't know I was dating anyone, well, actually when I pointed that out he said he didn't care. Really it reflects badly on him, but then he doesn't know anything about our relationship, I suppose he thinks it's just an old high school thing. Anyway," she paused to try to wave down their waitress, failed and tried to regain the train of though.
Jin was drumming his fingers, a sure sign something was on his mind. Still he didn't seem to want to say anything, so Rumi continued:
"It isn't anything to worry about, my telling you about it more than proves it. Now say Hirokazu-san had asked me out and I had never told you. That would indicate that I felt guilty in my subconscious, and that some part of me was attracted to him. And that would be a bad sign. The fact that we can laugh about it over lunch means we have a strong, honest relationship that will last. Right?"
Reluctantly, Jin raised his eyes. He wasn't smiling. He swallowed, obviously about to say something important. And as if on cue, the waitress appeared to take their order.
There was a moment's pause, and Rumi wondered if Jin was going to send her away. But in the end he ordered, as did Rumi. It was beef bowls for both of them, cheap and fast, the best student food.
When the waitress left, Jin seemed even more flustered, and stared out the window.
Rumi signed. Once again, their date had deteriorated and a sense of discomfort had crept in. What had happened to the ease that had always existed between them? It irritated her that what was supposed to be an amusing incident had escalated to this.
"Look Jin," she tried again, "I'm not as good looking as Chiyako, but I'm not bad looking. A lot of guys are looking for girlfriends or even wives, and there's more men at this university then women. Chances are I'm going to get passes made at me, just like I'm sure some women have their eyes on you. You're just going to have to trust me like I trust you, okay?"
"Two beef bowls," announced the waitress.
"Oh thank goodness," cried out Rumi, "You wouldn't believe how hungry I am!"
Jin forgotten, Rumi plunged into her meal.
"Rumi," said Jin, "you're right."
"Of course I am," she agreed between mouthfuls, "What about?"
"You are quite attractive, and there's a lot of guys who would be thrilled to date a girl like you."
Jin took a deep breath and Rumi self-consciously slurped her noodles while she waited.
"Some of them are probably much better than me."
"Jin, what are you saying?"
"Rumi, I'm not sure I'm the best person for you. I think you can do better."
Rumi simply shook her head, unsure what she was hearing.
"Rumi," said Jin, his voice very quiet, deadly serious, "I need you to listen to me. There's something I need to say."
******
Chiyako was in bouncy mood on her way home. Over the weekend, the rain which had been constant throughout most of May, and worn itself out and allowed the sun to show through the clouds. In Chiyako’s mind, spring had arrived at last. Along the various sidewalks green sprouts burst out and the flowers blossomed. The cherry trees gave hint of bloom within the week, and the smell of moist earth was everywhere. Most importantly, the chilling bite in the air, present even in the week of good weather when they'd held the picnic, was gone. The long winter’s grip was so firm and unwieldy that only by it's passing was it noticeable. And now, with the warm sun still present in the late afternoon, Chiyako wondered how she could have lived in ignorance of its influences.
It was as if everything was flourishing. Her advertising class project had earned high marks and her professor had hinted that she might have a chance at an internship next year. It would be an excellent feather in her cap, impressive to trot out at future interviews.
Socially she was having a blast. Roommate problems were a thing of the past; a real friendship was forming between her and Rumi, closer than any Chiyako had had in high school. They still had their differences, owing mainly to they way they were brought up, but now Chiyako felt comfortable enough to discuss the dissimilarities. There was no longer the constraint of silence binding her, censoring her ability to communicate with the people around her.
She was even honest and carefree with her boyfriend. Youji-kun, as she had started calling him recently, was shaping up to be quite a find. His family was well off and he had quite good taste in restaurants.
The previous weekend his younger sister had come up to spend the day, and she and Chiyako has got along marvelously. Not that Chiyako was worried about his family's opinion of her. It was far too early into the relationship for such thoughts. But then again. . .
Youji was, first and foremost, a gentleman. No groping hands, no trying to manipulate her, no reprimanding her in public or private. And fun to be with, mustn't forget that. When she was with him she hardly ever thought about Koishikawa anymore.
Hardly. Chiyako paused mid pace and looked up the street she was passing. Jin lived in the third building on the right, only a few blocks from her and Rumi. It wouldn't be inconceivable to see him now.
The thought caught her off guard, and she dropped her gaze. Why was she still embarrassed about that evening, that kiss? Jin hadn't told Rumi, and he made no sign to lord it over her. It might as well have not happened for its lack of impact. And yet, she still felt a burning frustration when her mind strayed over the memory.
It was an odd experience for Chiyako. She always tried to live in the present, and to pine over things she couldn't change was not her style. The kiss was just an impulse of the moment, and a stupid one at that.
Fact was, Youji was a far superior beau to Koishikawa. She wouldn't have felt at ease, or the relaxedness with Jin. He was far too exacting, too principled. If she dated someone like that, Chiyako would have always worried that she didn't measure up to his standards. And there would have been the whole roommate mess.
Not worth the effort, she told herself. And then she repeated it out loud to prove that she agreed with the assessment. Tossing her hair to reinforce the point, she headed for home.
There was going to be a marvelous sunset, she suspected. Already the contrail streaks criss-crossing the sky were turning pink. Leisurely, Chiyako strolled, watching as the sun's light highlighted the clouds' underbellies.
Her room was mostly dark when she got home, and Chiyako left the light off, staring at the last parting colors thought the room's row of windows. The actual sunset was hidden behind a nearby apartment building, but around the edges seeped a golden glow, dispersing into the light gray sky. The outline faded to orange and darkened. And then, like a encore performance, it lit up hot ember red in the now darkened sky.
Chiyako smiled with delight, and moved the desk chair to sit down. Behind her, something moved.
The motion sent a ripple up Chiyako's spine and she half jumped, half spun around. A lump unfolded itself from Rumi's futon, still huddled under the blankets.
"Rumi," sighed Chiyako, feeling silly with her relief, "I didn't even realize you were here. Weren't you going to study with Koishikawa-san tonight?"
Absently she flipped on the desk light. Her roommate's hair was disheveled and her cheeks blotchy, like she had just woken up from a long sleep. Her posture and face were anything but rested. Rumi's shoulders were hunched, and she was trembling. More disturbing was the empty, distant look in Rumi's eyes. Chiyako had seen that expression on her mother, and she shuddered at the memory.
"Hon," said Chiyako, concern showing in her voice, "What's wrong?"
"Jin. . . " Her roommate's voice trailed off. Gulping, as if for air, Rumi started again. "Jin. . . .Jin and I. . ."
Her voice went quavery, and the shakes became more profound. Silently, tears began to well up in Rumi's eyes. Not for the first time Chiyako hazarded, noting the streaks striping her cheeks.
Chiyako knelt down besides her, putting a hand on her friend’s shoulder. Something bad had happened, and Chiyako prayed it wasn't what she was thinking.
"Rumi-" she began.
"We broke up!" interrupted Rumi, and she broke down sobbing.
Chiyako put her arms around Rumi, comforting her in the manner common to women everywhere. Inside, her stomach was churning. Why break up now? What could have caused a breakup in a six year relationship that had withstood all of high school, and even, she felt a guilty pang, initial college experiences.
"What happened?" asked Chiyako in her most non-intrusive tone as Rumi's sobs died down. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything."
Chiyako sat back, looking carefully at Rumi. Her roommate slumped down, like she was drained of energy. Shaking her head sadly, she spoke slowly, in a near whisper.
"I don't know, I don't know. We were just at lunch. Nothing happened, no fight, no warning."
"But he couldn't have just said, let's break up, there had to be a reason." Chiyako persisted. There had to be reason. There has to be another reason, a part of her silently wished.
"He said that there were a lot of more eligible guys around, ones with money and stronger futures. He said I shouldn't just stay with him, I shouldn't limit myself to a provincial boy like him."
Chiyako waited for Rumi to say more. She needed data, info, anything. Seconds inched by while Chiyako held her tongue. The silence proved unbearable and she prodded Rumi with a "Well, what happened then?"
"He left, he put money on the table and . . .left."
"Didn't you go after him?" Didn't you chase him down and demand an answer?
"I, I," surprised realization dawned on her face, "I think I was in shock. I just sat there, trying to figure out what he had said. Chiyako, Jin and I have been friends forever, what did I do wrong?" Rumi's voice rose an octave and she started trembling again.
"I don't know," Chiyako lied. Inside she was fuming. What a bastard, what a male bastard! He'd probably met some floozy and had dumped Rumi without a word of explanation. Just so he could go after some pretty face, he'd given his old girlfriend the heave hoe, and given the most bogus of reasons.
"It was my fault," stated Rumi.
"What?" the self accusation shocked Chiyako out of her private rant.
"It must have been." Rumi insisted, "He must have thought I was interested in Hirokazu-sempai. I wasn't, honest. I don't know why he asked me out. But I'm not interested in the tennis captain, I made it plain to him, and to Jin, that I turned down the date."
"Hirokazu-sempai?" That's right, Rumi had a tennis match with him today. Chiyako had been meaning to warn her roommate of the man's conquest plans, but it had slipped her mind. Sure, Jin had taken advantage of Rumi's feeling of guilt, and took off. Oh, it got her mad!
Taking a hold of the other girl's shoulders, Chiyako gave her a steady look and in her most convincing voice spoke,
"It wasn't your fault, Rumi."
"But-" Rumi protested.
"It wasn't your fault." she repeated, "It was Jin's fault, or. . .someone else's, but it wasn't yours. It wasn't your fault Rumi."
Chiyako leaned forward, hugging her friend. She hadn't been comfortable looking into Rumi's eyes for a moment there, and she knew why. They sat in silence for some time, Rumi quietly sobbing, Chiyako trying to redirect her thoughts from a very dark suspicion.
It was impossible to ignore. It was you, it insisted. She had put doubt in his mind. She took the pure Jin and sullied him so that he fell for the next girl that sauntered by.
Anger boiled inside her. How dare he do that to Rumi? And more quietly, she thought: how could he do that to me?
Soon she felt Rumi's trembling subsiding, and slowly, the girl relaxed. Chiyako gently released her grip, and let her roommate lie back in bed. They spoke brief, lighthearted reassurances, but mental exhaustion had overtaken Rumi, and she drifted off to sleep almost immediately. Chiyako watched for a short time. When she was assured of the girl's slumber, she discreetly rose, turned off the light, and locked the door behind her.
Downstairs, she fastened her shoes and coat. For an instant, as her hand made contact with the main apartment doors, she paused. But her resolution didn't falter; she opened the door and walked out into the fresh night. There was someone she needed to see.
"Quite the interior decorating." commented Chiyako while internally she cursed herself.
On her way over she'd practiced any number of opening lines. You conceited bastard! had been her favorite, although she had also thought of numerous objects to throw. But as she neared his apartment, her conviction waned, and now standing in Jin's doorway, looking into his eyes, she found her spirit had taken flight.
She cast her eyes once more about the room. The words she had spoken, though cowardly, were nevertheless true. Covering every available space were posters and artwork ranging from simple pencil sketches on line ruled notebook paper to an enormous framed piece that seemed to be some sort of movie poster. Their unifying theme was their subject: Robots. Some were stationary while others seemed to be engaged in fist fights. A few dwarfed the humans either standing on them or posing in the foreground.
Jin followed her gaze. He wore an uncomfortable look on his face, which might be due to embarrassment over the wall hangings, or her presence.
"They belong to my roommate," he explained, "He drew most of them actually."
"They're. . .interesting, quite detailed," she admitted while she studied one nearby her. It appeared to be painted on some sort of clear plastic. "Kind of single minded, though."
"Oh," Jin rubbed the back of his head, "actually, he does people as well, or rather women. . .in swimsuits and . . . less. One of our early roommate compromises concerned what was acceptable display material."
"Less?" asked Chiyako, curiously.
"One, as I recall, had nothing but high heals and rabbit ears. Oh, and a magician’s wand."
They looked at each other, lips pursed so as to maintain serious faces. Chiyako hadn't seen Jin in over two weeks. He had been avoiding her, and she had let him. They sat on opposite sides of the room for their classes and Jin had canceled on their appointed tennis match. Rumi had tried once or twice to organize group dinners, but Chiyako had declined, claiming too much homework.
She had justified her cowardliness because she didn't want to cause any more conflict, with her roommate or anybody else. Standing here with him now, Chiyako realized how much she had missed his presence. Jin's humor had a polite edge, or maybe his sarcasm had gentleness to it, she wasn't sure which. It was kind, but truthful as well. A real smile began to form on her face but was stopped as she guiltily remembered the purpose of her visit.
She turned away from him again. It was impossible to get her words in order when she was looking at him. Jin remained silent and she could feel his eyes upon her. He could be so irritatingly patient. Part of Chiyako wanted him to say something just so she could react on instinct. But standing so close to him, she was afraid of what her instinct might be.
The room was small to begin with and its clutter made it feel downright cramped. Along one wall was a makeshift bookcase made of cement blocks and flat boards. It wasn't quite big enough, since numerous books were stacked precariously on the top shelf and along the side. Most were small paperbacks with bright, bold writing, some in English words she'd never seen before.
Jin's desk, the one without the plastic paint models, she guessed, was also a mess. But his at least seemed to be covered with the usual, empty food containers and textbooks. Perched on one corner was a framed photo. It looked familiar.
Chiyako crossed the room to pick it up. She needn't have, Rumi had a duplicate copy, right down to the frame, sitting on her bookshelf in their shared room.
It was a picture of two grade school children dressed in traditional kimonos standing in front of a humble country shrine. Perhaps the image was meant to evoke a solemn timeless scene, but unfortunately it had been taken too late in the day. The kimonos were wrinkled and smudged with mud along the hems, and the little girl’s had a dark stain running down her front. Their hair was disheveled and the boy sported a sizable band aid across his nose. This was Jin and Rumi, ages 7 and 7 1/2, taken on a long-ago New Years Day.
"How did you get hurt?" Chiyako asked him, but didn't turn to face him.
"You know," replied Jin offhandedly, "stupid things kids do."
"Rumi said it was to make her stop crying when she spilled hot chocolate on her outfit. She said you ran into a tree."
"Yeah," Jin's voice was softer now, "stupid things kids do."
"You were obviously close, even back then."
Jin was silent.
"You hurt her today, with what you said."
No reponse. Chiyako felt a righteous anger burn once again inside her. His current feelings for Rumi aside, their long term friendship deserved more than this.
"It was cruel and despicable. If I were you I'd want to crawl under the nearest rock and never come out."
Behind her she heard a thump. She spun about to see Jin with his fist rammed against one of the concrete support beams, teeth clenched, eyes screwed shut.
"Jin," she cried as she rushed over to him. He jumped back before she could reach him and held out his non-injured hand out, an invisible barrier between them. His other knuckle, she could see, was slightly red. The punch had had some force behind it.
"You don't think that's what I want to do?" he shouted at her. Chiyako took a step back, his voice an even more effective boundary. "The last thing I'd ever want to do is to hurt Rumi. She's the kindest, sweetest, most decent person I've ever known. She deserves the best. That's all I want for her."
His voice sounded sincere, but images of Rumi this evening lay fresh in Chiyako's memory. Narrowing her eyes she hissed back at him, "That's bullshit. That's some lame justification you invented in your head so you can trounce after whatever little coed has taken your fancy."
She expected him to retaliate with denials, the sort of break-up quarrel she was used to. Instead his posture deflated and he spoke in low tones.
"And if that were the case, then Rumi shouldn't have anything to do with me. She deserves the best. And that means a guy who absolutely adores her, who has eyes only for her. Someone who can share his every thought with her, and what he's thinking will only make her happy." he signed and shook his head. "Chiyako, I always thought I was that sort of guy. But I'm not. If only I was, I'd spend the rest of my life with Rumi."
His hand brushed under his eyes. Chiyako stared. Never had she'd seen a grown man cry.
"I couldn't do it anymore, pretend to be this great boyfriend, while all the time. . .The longer I kept up the facade, the more it would hurt later. If I could go back in time and break it off earlier I would. But I can't." Jin gritted his teeth, as if in pain. "I know she's hurt. I'd do anything to stop it. But I can't!"
He turned back to the wall curling his fingers to form a fist.
"Jin," she called out, if only to stay his hand. "Jin, this is touching, but unrealistic. There's no way you can go though life just focused on one person. You can't help looking at other girls, it's only natural. No woman would demand that sort of commitment, not all the time." There, it was all a misunderstanding, it could be straightened out. Chiyako clung to that hope with all her heart. Please let it all turn out all right.
"This isn't something trivial, Chiyako. This isn't-" he paused and looked thoughtful. Then, as if some decision had been made, he continued, "It's not just random girls, it's one in particular. I can't get this woman out of my thoughts. I find myself thinking about her, worrying about her, caring about her, all the time. I've held imaginary conversations with her, explaining why it wouldn't work, why I can't be with her. In my conversations, she always agrees. But it doesn't stop my feelings. I've tried and tried, but nothing works!"
Chiyako could hear her heart pounding. "So this is the reason." there was a sting to her words she couldn't suppress, "You're in love with someone else, not Rumi."
Jin didn't return her look, but simply nodded.
"Then why not tell Rumi the truth, Jin? Why not give her something to be angry with, something for which to hate you. Instead of, instead of this not deserving crap so that she keeps trying to figure out what she did. At least this way she can hate the wench, whoever she is."
Jin just gave her a half-smile. It looked rather sad.
"Who is she? At least tell me so I can despise her."
He kept looking at her.
"Someone I know?" Maybe a classmate or someone on the tennis team. Chiyako mentally ran thought the faces, trying to remember if there was anyone of exceptional beauty.
Jin said something. It didn't make sense, so Chiyako looked up, "What?" she asked.
"It's you." Jin repeated his voice very soft.
It's. You. The words echoed in her brain, connecting, sinking in. He's in love with me. Her mind went blank. The image of her and Jin together flitted briefly though. Jin: tall and good looking, sweet and gentle, smart and understanding. She looked at his face, his kind eyes and apologetic smile, and felt a brief wave of happiness. And glanced down at the photo frame, still in her hand. It was then that she panicked.
"Jin, that can't happen!" Chiyako struggled to explain the wrongness, though if it was for Jin or her own benefit, she wasn’t sure. "Rumi and I are roommates, I couldn't- And we're friends too, good friends. Then she'd just be hurt more, and have no one- And Youji, he's involved in all this too. It's not fair to him, he doesn't deserve to- to-"
This would have horrible consequences in every direction. Socially it was unacceptable. Morally it was even less so. Her mind spun as she imagined the looks people would give her, the things they would say behind her back. No girl would want her near their boyfriends, and the boys, they'd see her as a cheap floozy. It would be hard for Jin too. People would think him manipulative and a cheat. He wasn't as tough as she, they’d eat him alive.
How could she have thought, even for a single moment, that it might work? It was obvious; there was only one choice.
"Jin," she spoke slowly, rationally, "We can't. We just can't."
Jin simply smiled his half smile, "No," he agreed, "We can't. Tell Rumi, tell her whatever you think is best. I can't do anything, but you, you're her friend, you can help her."
"Of course," murmured Chiyako, her thoughts still chaotic, "Of course."
The stared at each other, sad smiles mirrored on their faces. The silence stretched out, becoming uncomfortable.
Finally, Chiyako said, "I should get going."
Jin gave a nod.
After another long moment, Chiyako left.
Matsuura Youji was late, but only by about five minutes. Considering who his date was, he still had a good quarter of an hour. They had agreed to meet here after Youji's class, in the park by the playground equipment, at this same bench. It was for practical reasons, they both knew where it was. But it was fitting, after all, the month-long experiment was nearing its end.
Sighing, Youji gazed upward, willing any nearby gods to send him inspiration. He had been contemplating this meeting, and what he would do, for the last few days. He still didn't have an answer.
It really shouldn't matter. It would be Chiyako's decision. And he would live by it. Still, his conversation with his sister echoed in his mind.
"Chiyako is so cool." Emiko had squealed over the phone. "Insisting that I call her by her first name, that’s so modern. And she's sharp and she said she'd give me a makeover next time I came to visit. I like her way better than any of the other girls you've dated before."
"Emiko, that's not nice."
"But it's true," she countered, "That, what was her name, Namami, she was so pathetic. And then she dumped you, on Valentine’s Day no less!"
"Manami," Youji corrected her, "And it was a mutual decision. You're being too hard on her, Emiko, she was just out of a very bad relationship. I actually just got a letter from her recently, she's doing quite well."
"Whatever, big brother," Emiko replied, but her tone was more congenial, "I'll admit, some of them were nice. But you always let them go back to their old boyfriends or whatever. Just promise me you won't let Chiyako get away."
"If that's the way it works out, little sister, no one will be more pleased."
"That's not the attitude you need, Youji," her voice taking on authoritarian undertones. "You need to be like this guy I saw on TV last night. He was in love with this girl. But she was a samurai’s daughter and he was a ninja assassin. She kept turning him down, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. And then when her father's estate was attacked, he slipped in and kidnapped her. He was so stylish, and good looking. In the end she agreed to marry him."
"I don't think kidnapping is a viable way to win a wife these days, little sister. Besides, Chiyako's apartment is on the third floor and I'm not much of a climber."
"Oh Youji, you know what I mean. If you love a girl, then you need to pursue her, otherwise she won't know you’re serious. Don't laugh. I'm a woman, so I should know."
"Little Emiko, in a few years time, when you've had your fill of being pursued, I will quote this conversation to you. The truth is that forcing your affections on someone who doesn't return them is a sure way to make them miserable. And if you truly care for someone, then the last thing you want to do is cause them distress."
Emiko fell silent, and Youji hoped it was because she was considering his words. He was aware that his dating attitude has cost him a relationship or two, but it would have been worse, far worse, to demand another’s love when they could not have given it. Living in state was a horrible existence for all involved.
"But Chiyako really likes you, Youji. She told me that you were the best guy she'd ever dated. Honest."
The statement took him by surprise. "She really said that?"
"I wouldn't lie about such a thing. See, she loves you!"
"Did she say that?"
"About the love, well no. But if you're such a great guy, how could she not love you?" Emiko said, confused.
"Love is not an award you get for being the best, little sister. It's more complicated than that. I don't think Chiyako's the type of girl who gives away her heart easily. She’s had a rough childhood."
"Lots of people have rough childhoods, Youji," Emiko spoke without sympathy. "If Chiyako doesn't love you yet, you've just got to keep trying until she returns your love. You do love her, don't you?"
He evaded her question, "We've been dating less than a month, Emiko. I think it's still a bit early."
"I recall you going on for some time about how everything was brighter and more enjoyable when she was around. That's what you said."
"Well, maybe," he admitted. "Maybe I am in love."
"And maybe Chiyako's in love with you. Just promise me, you won't let her go without putting up a good fight."
"I'm not climbing any apartment buildings, Emiko."
"You know what I mean."
He understood what his sister wanted of him, he'd sat though enough of that sort of movies. The girl would give some passionate speech, be all set to walk out of the guy’s life. Then, at the last minute, he'd grab her hand, look deeply into her eyes, and in a soft voice (still loud enough to be heard over stirring background music) he'd say, "Don't leave, I love you." The heroine’s eyes would go shining and big. There would be an emotional struggle acted out on her face. She’d cry out his name. They’d embrace. End credits and catchy love song would roll. A happily-ever-after ending which would always leave Emiko or Youji’s date (or both) sobbing blissfully.
Youji had always been a bit disappointed. There was no real resolution, no working through the relationship’s problems. The stories never considered what happened later, when the problems resurfaced and the surprise "I love you" trump card had already been played.
Youji turned his thoughts away from this train of thought. He'd let Chiyako evaluate her feelings, and then he'd live with the consequences.
The decision felt right, and did so for the next ten minutes until Chiyako came running up, apologies spilling out. In that moment, a desire welled up inside him for the long gazes, background music and happy endings. Emiko was right, he was in love.
He resolved to watch his actions very carefully. While wandering over to an ice cream stand, they talked about various things: classes, the weather, Yamashita’s current mental state.
"She’s putting up a good face, but I know she’s hurting inside," said Chiyako wistfully. "I just wish there was something I could do to really help."
"What Yamashita-san needs right now is good friends," opined Youji, "and you aren’t letting her down in that regard."
Chiyako looked away when he said this. They ate their ice cream in silence. Youji’s brain was deliberating how to broach the subject of their own relationship.
"Chiyako," he said, unsure how he sounded, "It's been a month."
"Mmm?" She looked at him, mid-lick into ice cream.
"A month, time to evaluate the experiment, about our dating." he said to dispel her obvious confusion.
Realization dawned, "Ahhh. The trial dating."
Youji nodded, bracing himself.
"You know, Youji-kun, I had almost forgotten the arrangement."
Chiyako's face took on a thoughtful look.
"Basically, I get to choose right now whether to keep dating you or not. And if I choose no?"
"Then we end it as friends." Youji completed her thought, "hopefully." He tried reading her decision, but her face was inscrutable.
"I'd hate to lose you as a friend, Youji-kun. After Rumi, you’re the closest person I know here."
Despite his fears, her compliment raised his spirits. In the back of his mind he had feared most of all that Chiyako really didn't enjoy their talks and friendship.
"So," Chiyako asked coyly, "What do you think I'll choose."
"I let the matter rest in your hands, or heart rather."
"Come on," she said, giving him a sly look, "you must have some idea."
Youji was taken aback. In all the ways he had played out this scene, Chiyako had always firmly stated her decision, leaving Youji to either contradict or abide by her wishes. To be the one to choose . . . Or no, he corrected himself, to try to guess her choice . . .Or perhaps it was a test, and his choice of words would determine everything. Perhaps she herself didn't know what she wanted and was counting on him for advice. Why were women so inscrutable?
"Well," he said slowly, mainly to buy time, "There are several points to consider, that is if we want to treat this as a logical experiment."
"A logical experiment," Chiyako mulled over the words, "Yes, let’s."
"One," Youji raised a single finger, "Are we compatible? Do we compliment each other’s personalities and manage not to get on each other's nerves?"
Youji looked into Chiyako's eyes, trying to read the expression held within. Her poker face held no clues. So he swallowed, expressing what he hoped was a correct observation, "I think the answer there is a definite yes. Yes?"
Chiyako giggled, "Yes." she confirmed, and her eyes danced.
"So with that established, the next point is whether I have anyone else I'd rather be dating? I can answer that question easily, no. Finally . . ." And as Youji began to voice the question, a thought began to flit about the corners of his consciousness. His voice trailed off while he tried to pin it down.
Chiyako continued, oblivious to Youji’s awakening realization, "Is there anyone else I'd rather be dating? Easy answer there, no. So I guess we call the experiment a success and we . . ." Chiyako waved a hand in front of his face, "Youji-kun, you're going distant on me. What are you thinking?"
"Chiyako . . ." Youji spoke absently while his mind raced. He had passed, it was a success. He should be dancing, singing, grinning like an idiot at least. And she said it like she really meant it, not like it would go away, like she was resigned to it-
He caught himself. Why had he used that term? Looking at her now, she seemed cheerful, content, very much like his sister. And then the memory crystallized.
Emiko, age seven, weeding her vegetable garden. She was pointing out a small yellow squash to Youji, predicting how large it would soon become. He remembered the look on her face, it was the same as Chiyako's.
It had been the second summer since their mother’s death, and Emiko hadn’t woken up crying for over three months. She had asked for a patch of garden to grow flowers in, like a girl in a story she was reading. Their father’s mother had granted part, but not the entire request. Emiko was entrusted with a small garden plot, but allowed only to plant food crops. Emiko had begged for at least one flower, but their grandmother would not budge. She answer all of Emiko’s pleas by repeating the story of the war’s aftermath when her family had had only their garden to supply food. In the end, Emiko had backed down and chosen squash and peas to plant, reasoning that they at least would flower briefly.
All spring she had slaved over the garden, and it grew marvelously under her hands. At meals she had proudly presented the vegetables. To this day, Grandma would allude to how her stance hand had been a correct course of action. What she forget, however, was that Emiko never gardened again. The next winter she kept quiet spring planting was mentioned. Youji never asked why, he knew when he looked at her working, day after day. The vegetable garden she tended was not her garden, was not her dream. It was a job which she felt obliged to perform. To give up completely would have brought all sorts of unhappiness, but to persevere with her practical vegetable plants made the pain manageable.
And looking at Chiyako now, Youji felt he could see the pain she was hiding. Somewhere along the way, Chiyako had been hurt, he was sure of it. And now she was willing to accept him as a compromise. It was as if claws of guilt were digging into his neck.
You don't know that, a voice hummed in his ear. She says she's happy with you, why won't you believe it?
"Youji?" asked Chiyako, her face showed concern. She leaned towards him.
"I. . ." How could he say this, contradict her. "Are you sure? Are you sure there's no one else?"
Chiyako snapped back as if she'd been slapped. "What do you mean?"
"Chiyako," he tried to make his voice sound gentle, non-accusatory, "It's alright for you to be honest with me."
"I wasn't lying," her voice had a edge to it, a harshness, "There isn't anyone I'd rather be dating. You're smart, funny, and good looking. I'm happy being around you. I-"
"Do you love him?" the question came out involuntarily and he cursed himself. This was most certainly an accusation.
"What importance does love have?" she threw back at him, but her face was pale and her eyes wide.
Youji smiled gently at Chiyako, everything falling into place. An old flame, or maybe a good friend turned into something more, he understood. He had played this role before. It hurt, but he was on familiar ground. When he next spoke, it was with a compassionate voice, all traces of hurt, of pain, of disappointment absent;
"Chiyako, if you don't love me, and we continue dating, it's fine. I still have a chance to win your love. But if there's someone else and you settle on me, then I'll never win your love. I'll never even have a chance. And you. if there's someone out there who you never give a chance, then you’ll spend you entire life doubting if you’re truly happy."
Chiyako gave him a sad smile, "Youji, this person. No matter how I feel, it won't make a difference. I can't be with him. But I can be with you, and I will be happy."
"Are you sure? Can people be happy with second-place prizes?"
They stared at each other. Chiyako seemed caught in internal conflict, and Youji could only guess to what was going on in her mind. Finally she said, "My mother, she loved a man before my, my father. If she had never met him, never pursued him, never fallen in love, she would have been much happier."
"Maybe." Youji agreed, "But you can’t deny emotions. They’ll only come out more strongly later, and the damage will be far greater." Chiyako tried to contradict him, but he silenced her and continued, "I grew up in a family where what was spoken and what was felt were two separate things. My parents’ marriage was a mistake they were never willing to admit. They resented each other for the lives they’d never had a chance to live. And even as a small child I could see this. A life with a broken heart may be empty, Chiyako, but a life with regret will pervert a person’s soul, and the souls of people around her."
"I . . .But Youji, if I go after him, you'll hate me." Chiyako’s eyes were glistening.
"No," he assured her, "I’ll support you, I promise. If it doesn’t work out . . ." I’ll be waiting, "but I hope it does."
Chiyako was shaking her head ever so slightly, and Youji could see her uncertainty. He could still take it back, take her back. All that was needed were those few simple words. Youji remained silent, willing Chiyako to decide this for herself.
Finally, she nodded, resolution plain on her face. Youji watched as she walked off, his spirit feeling simultaneously thrilled and torn. He was, he suspected, always destined to play the supporting male role. It was not the part he wanted, but, he contemplated while finishing off his ice cream cone, it was better than being cast as the villain.
******
Jin checked his watch again. Its minute hand had hardly advanced five minutes since he last checked, still almost fifteen minutes till his train's arrival. He hoisted his suitcase, set it down, lifted it again, and debated the merits of pacing the length of the platform. Grimacing, he forced himself to sit. He was a bundle of nervous tension, wanting to move, to act, to get it over with, but bound by the schedule of the outside world, he could only wait.
Odd, the strength of his desires to fulfill a goal he had realizes only a few hours back. He had been sitting, contemplating spending the weekend alone in his room. It held no appeal and on a lark he'd thought of going home and visiting his family.
He had started packing with plans to catch the afternoon train. There was so much dirty laundry that it had seemed more logical just to stuff in all in his largest suitcase than to sort through for the few items he'd need for the extended weekend. Mom wouldn't mind doing an extra load or two, it would make her feel needed. There was still room, so he added some books, his clock, and various other items.
It was then that the thought occurred. Everything I need is here. I could go home, and never return.
And once he had thought it, it seemed right. To leave here would only improve everyone's lives. Rumi would get over him more easily if he were far from the University. Chiyako and Youji wouldn't be bothered by his presence. And he himself would forget his desire for Chiyako if he wasn't seeing her every day. The only one inconvenienced was his roommate, and if Jin got a job, well, he could continue paying his half of the rent until the guy found someone else. It was scary how his removal would help everyone so much.
And so, after leaving a brief note of explanation on the apartment door, the only place guaranteed to be visible, he'd set off.
Getting to the station must have taken longer than he thought, because he missed the early train. No matter, getting in late wouldn’t matter if he wasn’t coming back. The very idea lifted his spirits.
Try as he might, the past week had gone poorly. He'd skipped most of his classes, at least all that involved Chiyako, and taken detours to avoid her apartment building, all the while silently wishing he might accidentally meet her.
He once ran into Rumi, and they had stared at each other several minutes before she turned and ran away. It was hard, looking at her and being unable to say a thing. It had never happened with Rumi, and he had to fight the impulse to confide in her.
Until the last week, he hadn't realized how alone he'd been here. So many of his contacts had been through Rumi or the tennis club, and now he feared both.
Tokyo wasn't for him. It was too big, too complicated. When he was at home, he knew the rules and the acceptable way to behave. It wasn't hard to be good there. Here everything was jumbled and upside down.
It was true in so many ways; the way students ignored studying, the radical non-traditional things they spoke of, the way he found himself acting when he was around them, the way he felt about Namuki Chiyako. This last part was the worst of it.
Last week, when she was standing in his room, he'd felt ready to scream from pain and frustration. It wasn't that he no longer liked Rumi. It wasn't even that his thoughts about her had changed. He still cared for her, he still loved her, but. . .
It was Chiyako that his thoughts kept turning to. Chiyako whose good standing he coveted. Chiyako, whose image he dreamed about.
Chiyako, he realized, who was standing across the platform, looking at him. She ran towards him, hand clutching a piece of paper. He wanted to escape, if only the train could come right now.
Instead, Chiyako reached him.
"What's this?" she demanded, waving the letter he’d posted on his door, "You're leaving? You didn't even say good bye."
"I . . ."
"Coward!" she spat.
Jin could only stare at her. He was just glad that she had come, if only so that he could see her one last time. Soon the train would arrive and he’d board it and never see her again. He wanted to freeze her image in his memory.
"I can’t believe you’d just leave like this, just give up, just quit!" Chiyako’s voice trembled slightly.
"I . . ." how could he explain. "It’s all for the best."
"For who?" she glared at him.
"For everyone!" he said defensively, "I’m only hurting Rumi by staying and Youji certainly doesn’t need my presence."
"What about me?"
She was shaking, and Jin had to fight himself not to go over and hold her. He’d never leave it he did, and he was convinced that leaving now was the only solution.
"What about me?" Chiyako repeated, "You said you loved me. And now you’re abandoning me! Was it all a lie?"
"No, no," he pleaded, "It wasn’t a lie." Jin looked into Chiyako’s eyes, willing her to believe him. He couldn’t break down in front of her. It would be the last time they met; he didn’t want her to see him cry.
"Everything I said was true. I want nothing more than to be with you forever. I love you. But you’re right, it can’t be. My desire would hurt so many people, people I don’t want to hurt."
"But you’re hurting me!"
It was too much, and he blinked back tears.
"Chiyako, I’d do anything not to hurt you. Anything. That’s why I’m leaving, so I don’t hurt you. Don’t bring yourself down with me. I’d hurt your image, your relationships, your standing. I couldn’t stand to see you unhappy."
Chiyako put her hands to her face, trembling and making muffled sounds. He had hurt her and his heart tore within him. The overhead speakers gave warning of the incoming train, and he heard its approaching sound on the tracks. It pulled in behind him, its breaks squealing and doors hissing open.
"Chiyako?" he whispered.
He had a few minutes before the train departed. Enough time to apologize, if nothing else.
She was still shaking, head obscured. In a voice pitched low so only he could hear, she said:
"Then you can’t go. You can’t go Jin. Because if you leave, I’ll be hurt. I don’t care what others think of me. I don’t care what they say about me. I just care about you, Jin. I love you."
She looked up, smiled, and made a sound that might be a giggle. Jin stared at her, but just for a second because now he had crossed the space between them and was encompassing her in his arms. Holding her tightly, Jin buried his face in her hair.
She loved him, she loved him, she loved him. At that moment, his whole world comprised of the words she had spoken aloud and what they meant. That she really cared and that he hadn’t only been a diversion. All along, that was the fear he dared not express, because then all the pain and hurt he’d caused Rumi would been for nothing. But she’d said she loved him.
It still doesn’t mean Rumi will be less hurt. He knew that, and Chiyako knew that as well. Like a bullet, the guilt tore through his happiness . Slowly he loosened his embrace and looked into Chiyako’s now beaming expression.
"What about Rumi?"
Chiyako’s face fell, and Jin regretted his words instantly. Would she take that as a rejection? But when she spoke it was with calm, determined tones.
"I don’t know. I hate hurting her, but," her voice faltered but then resumed, strong in conviction, "Jin, I’ve never felt like this before, never cared about someone in this way, and I can’t, not even for friendship, walk away from this. I thought I could. I thought I could bury what I felt for you deep within myself, and no one would know, would not even suspect. But I’m not so good an actor as that. Youji-kun knew."
"Matsuura-san?" Jin said, guilty that he had forgotten about Chiyako’s current boyfriend and his friend.
"Yes. He saw right through my act. He didn’t want me to live with regret. He told me to follow my heart. I think it would have hurt him more for me to be dishonest, in the long run that is. And in the long run it would hurt Rumi more for us to lie to her."
"She’s still going to be hurt." Jin spoke softly.
"Yes," agreed Chiyako.
Jin looked into her eyes. There was no ingenious solution to fix the situation so that everyone could be happy. Everyone could suffer, or he and Chiyako could prosper at Rumi and Matsuura’s expense.
Maybe life had always been this complicated, and he had just been oblivious to it. Perhaps these actions were not so cruel and despicable as he imagined. The justifications felt hollow and empty.
The station speakers announced final boarding call for the train. Earlier today he’d thought that he could leave Tokyo and return to the simple life, but he had been fooling himself even then. He couldn’t blame this place or even its people for the uncertainties he felt in his soul.
Chiyako, too, must have uncertainties. By confessing her love for Jin, she was risking just as much as he. At a certain point, Jin realized, you have to choose who’s most important to you.
Jin listened to the automatic doors close, heard the train give a whistle and then start its journey.
Gently, he cupped Chiyako’s cheek in his hand. This one person, he promised, this one person, I will not hurt.
Slowly he bent down and kissed Chiyako.
copyright Kim Smuga-Otto 1999
