“Well fuck you too!” Aiko tossed her phone onto the table and began pacing around the room. How brash of her spouse! Seemed like it never took much anymore to anger and subsequently send Reina into a fit. Ever since she began addressing her gender dysphoria, anything could be taken as a slight toward her.
Still, Aiko was upset as well. What she was upset about, however, gradually changed as the hours went by. At first she was angry that Reina would accuse her of cheating, let alone mocking her sexuality. When have I ever been anything but a lesbian these past twenty years? And if Aiko discovered she was bisexual, so what? It didn’t change anything between her and Reina. Later Aiko was upset because her spouse didn’t come home. Usually she threw her fits around the neighborhood before crawling back around dinner time. Silent, and stubborn, but back all the same. By dinner time, however, Reina remained absent. Aiko resorted to fretting as the sun went down and she still could not get through on her spouse’s phone.
If they had any nearby friends, then Aiko would have called them to see if Reina was with them. But her best friend lived across an ocean, and Jun was busy with her own life in Nagoya. They didn’t know anyone else well enough for Reina to crash them during a fight with her spouse. Therefore Aiko’s resentment transformed into full-on concern that something had happened. And if something had, how was she supposed to know? They were married, but not by law. Aiko was nowhere on Reina’s list of next of kin. Sachiko was the only one who could find out, and it was dubious that she would ever tell Aiko.
The thought of Reina hurt somewhere, whether by accident or her own accord, sent Aiko into a frenzy. She began firing texts to Reina’s phone, sure to be consumed by the void of indifference, but if nothing else, perhaps a detective or paramedic could see that Aiko was an important person and should be notified if anything happened. This was how she coped with that worst case scenario. Even as her stomach growled at her to fill it with food, she ignored it in favor of sitting and staring at her phone.
Soon logic returned, and she saw the situation for what it was: Reina had left her, and may never return.
Aiko’s texts went from worried and appalled to heartfelt. She pleaded to her spouse to come home so they could talk and get to the root of their problem. “Please come home,” Aiko wrote. “I don’t want us to be like this. Come home. I’ll make dinner and we can sort this out. I’ve never, EVER done anything to betray you. I haven’t done anything sexual with a man since before I met you. Please believe me. I’ll tell you anything you want. I love you.”
She was in tears by the time she sent her last message. Not the heaving, debilitating kind, but enough to know that she feared more than she would admit. Reina had tried breaking up with her before, many years ago. Back then it was to try and save Aiko from years of misery with her mother. Now…she couldn’t believe she was seriously considering the idea that her spouse was trying to break up with her again. Only she thinks I’ve done something now.
The only thing left was to sit at the table. The same table with her notebook and pencil pouch.
Aiko flipped open to the English essay she had started about her relationship with Reina. “My name is Aiko. I have my own identity, but I will always be most known for being Reina’s partner.” The fact she felt the need to write that set a cinch in her heart.
“I have a life outside of you.” She had meant it. There were times she felt like her entire existence was wrapped in the concept of “Reina.” From the moment Aiko shirked her old life and entered the world of lesbianism, she was forever associated with or acted in conjunction with Reina, who had her own legendary reputation long before Aiko came along. She’s always had a life outside of me. Her old friends she couldn’t remember the names of; the hearts she stole and the legs she parted; the entire schoolyard she fucked her way through, including Tomoko, who always remembered her. Reina had a job she went to every day. What did Aiko have? A house. A lonely house she spent most of the day in, alone. Sometimes Yuri stopped by, but those visits were at the whims of her hectic life outside of Aiko. She missed the days when she used to have a small group of friends she would hang out with. But all of those friends had moved on to lives elsewhere, some in other places around Japan, and some as far as China.
But having a life around Reina never bothered Aiko. It was exciting and held many opportunities to meet new people and attend events. And it was passionate. The love Aiko felt for her spouse made her feel more alive than the most invigorating conversations she had with other people…like Takeshi. She appreciated the type of life and social circle he offered, but at the end of the day, only Reina made her heart beat and her blood course through her veins.
The thought of her never coming home made more tears course down Aiko’s cheeks.
She picked up a pen and began to write.
Abandoning her old English essay, Aiko started a new one: in Japanese, addressed directly to her spouse. She let the words flow through her hand as if divinely guided by her conscience. “You are the most important person in my life. If I could choose only one person to save at the end of days, it would be you.” Her resolve flourished and tapped into all the hidden messages inside of her. “I love everything about your body. Your hair, your face, your chest, your hands, and whatever else you claim as a part of you. I want to cherish every part; to memorize their lines and coloring. You are beautiful, and you are handsome.” She shuddered as her hand began to cramp. “I can’t imagine my life if I had never met you. I don’t think it would have been a life worth living.” Tears marred some of her words before she could turn the pages.
Aiko wrote well into the night, forgoing food and bathing in order to finish her treatise on why she loved Reina. Having those words gush from her was like slicing open her heart and facing the consequences of every choice she ever made. Going with Reina meant she could never live a normal life in her society – but it had been worth it. Every day had been worth it.
She did not run out of things to say. When talking about Reina, there was never an end to her thoughts and feelings. But exhaustion claimed her, seizing the muscles in her hand and pulling her down to the carpet. Aiko dropped her pen mid-kanji. Although her stomach roared in hunger, she pulled herself upstairs and collapsed into bed, staring at her empty phone messages and wishing her spouse was there with her. The final heartbreak came when she rolled forward, nose landing in Reina’s pillow, which smelled of her scent and shampoo.
The last of her tears fell into that pillow as she closed her eyes, imagining Reina was there, holding her and telling her how much she loved her.
In the morning Aiko summoned herself from a heavy, dreamless slumber. The first thing she did, once she remembered what happened the night before, was check her phone: nothing. Not a missed call. She huffed into Reina’s pillow and attempted to resume her life.
A dark cloud of severity hung over her as she forced herself to eat breakfast and wash up. If Reina were not in trouble or danger – and Aiko’s gut did not tell her that she was – then her continued absence meant she was still angry and hurt. That did not bode well for their relationship. Aiko figured there was something darker going on in her spouse’s psyche.
The first challenge, though, was figuring out where she was.
Aiko called people, starting with Yuri and making her way down close enough friends she thought she could trust with, “Have you seen Reina these past couple of days? I seem to have lost track of her.” No one knew where she was. Since it was Sunday, Aiko braved a phone call to Jun in the hopes that she was not busy. When Aiko asked if Reina ever talked about having a place to go to, all Jun could say was, “Wait, she’s missing?”
She did not expect to find Reina via any of these methods, and she did not. Only when she hung up with Jun did Aiko start to panic again. If Reina was not back by that evening, she would have no choice but to call the police, on the offshoot that something had happened to her.
Aiko cleaned her dishes and stood in the kitchen, lost in her own home. She op
ened the fridge and stared at the juice and vegetables, her eyes wandering to the small collection of shrimp she planned to cook that night for dinner.
Shrimp is one of Reina’s favorite things. Deveining shrimp was one of the only things Reina could do in the kitchen. She said that she used to do it with her mother growing up.
The same mother who recently tried to reconnect with them…
Aiko closed the refrigerator and ran to grab her purse. She threw her cell phone and notebook in it before heading out the door, almost forgetting to lock it behind her.
If memory served her well, then she knew the way to Reina’s old station in Adachi. After all, she had gone there many times before they moved in together. Whenever Sachiko was away for more than a night, Aiko would go over so she and Reina could have a free room for as long as they wanted. She still remembered the first time they made love in Reina’s childhood bedroom – it happened to be the same day Reina introduced the kink that would later define a part of her identity. The one that is threatened by other men. She clutched her purse to her chest as the train wound through the neighborhoods.
The bigger challenge was remembering how to get to Reina’s old house from the station. Many of the businesses had changed in the past twenty years, creating new landmarks that threw Aiko for a loop – literally. She walked in circles at first, wondering why the same hairdresser’s shop continued to pass by until she realized what was happening. She then consulted the neighborhood map after remembering that the house was near a sizable park.
Keep walking. Her legs began to turn to gelatin as she walked down the street. The closer she came to the Yamada house, the closer she got to Reina. She knew it. If her gut told her Reina was not in danger, it also told her she was in her natal home, hiding away until God knew when. She has work tomorrow! How like Aiko to put that at the forefront of her brain.
“Oh…” She stopped in front of Reina’s old house before she accidentally passed it. The years treated it the same as always, except now it appeared there were small flowers blooming in the front when it was desolate years ago. Although the house was old and probably decrepit, there was a clean and cared for quality to it that Aiko did not recall from before. Maybe she moved after all. She looked at the nameplate, reassuring herself it was the right house.
Like many of the old houses in the neighborhood, there was no call button by the front gate. Instead Aiko had to finagle with the lock, cursing herself for not remembering the combination from all those years ago. After a few jiggles the lock gave way, allowing her to enter the property and approach the door.
Her entire hand shook as she rang the bell.
“Ara? Just a second!” That high, squeaky voice couldn’t have belonged to Sachiko…it was much too cheery. The Sachiko Aiko recalled was a somber woman constantly annoyed by everything her daughter did. The few times Aiko encountered her was enough to make her feel uncomfortable.
The woman who answered the door also did not look much like the woman she once tiptoed around.
She was smaller than Aiko remembered, with most of the fat burned from her body. Silver lined her dark hair as it curled around her cheeks and hung above her shoulders. Her glasses sat upon her nose and highlighted two beady eyes squinting in the light. And her clothing! Sachiko once wore jeans and sweaters. This auntie wore thin cotton dresses with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. This couldn’t have been Sachiko.
“Sumimasen.” Aiko bowed in apology. “I think I have the wrong house.”
“Oh! You’re Aiko, aren’t you?”
She stiffened. “H…hai. Are you…?”
“You don’t recognize me? Ah, I’ve gotten older!” That wasn’t all. Sachiko also had a subtle glow around her that Aiko had never seen before. The Sachiko she remembered always frowned as if the entire world were out to make her miserable. First her husband’s killed and then her daughter’s bucking the status quo. Aiko knew from experience that all it took was a few things gone awry for a housewife’s world to flip upside down. “You’re looking for Reina?”
Hope returned to Aiko within the breeze blowing by. “Is she here?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
Sachiko stepped aside, revealing Reina, wearing a tight turtleneck Aiko hadn’t seen in years. She stood at the base of the staircase, her posture isolating and her countenance cruel and weary. The loving instincts inside Aiko flared at the sight of her pained spouse, and she had to fight all her natural urges prompting her to fling herself forward.
Her spouse averted her eyes and lifted her shoulders; Aiko tried to see her better, but the house was dark and the sunshine blinding. “Ii yo,” she mumbled, disappearing up the staircase as if she were going to get something – Aiko knew she wasn’t.
She exchanged sympathetic looks with Sachiko before being allowed into the house. The door slid shut behind her, and her pupils dilated at a rate too quick to keep up with. After she rubbed her eyes, Aiko took off her shoes and turned down Sachiko’s hospitality.
“I’m going to go talk to her.” Aiko bit her lip. “I did something stupid, and she’s mad.”
“Mm. She told me.”
Aiko gaped at her mother-in-law. “She told you?” The idea of Reina communicating anything to her mother was about as probable as Reina’s father coming back from the dead.
Sachiko nodded. “I’m going to go wipe down the kitchen.”
As a housewife herself, Aiko knew a subtle opening to get into trouble when she saw it. Once Sachiko was down the hallway, Aiko crept up the stairs and went over a million stock phrases in her head.
Reina’s room was at the end of the hallway. In a strange turn of expectations, the door was open, allowing bright sunlight to stream into the dusty hallway.
“Reina?” She intended to call that name, but it came out in a minute squeak. Aiko hovered outside the door, one hand pushing into the frame as she peered around the corner.
Her spouse sat in a chair on the far side of the room, refusing to look in her wife’s direction. Aiko helped herself in and closed the door behind her.
“You never returned my messages. I was really worried about you.”
Without a sound Reina turned her body, a stream of smoke coming from her hand. An ashtray full of fresh butts simmered on the dresser beside her. She only smokes this much if we’re at a party…or she’s stressed. Aiko’s eyes adjusted to the light. Not only was Reina’s hair mussed as if she hadn’t combed it in days, but her eyes were stale and red. Has she been crying? For years Reina never cried. Not a tear. Recently she cried more when prompted, but Aiko hadn’t seen anything like this in over a year. Her desire to caress her spouse increased.
“I didn’t want to talk to you.”
The matter-of-fact way she spoke stung Aiko worse than a wasp. If they were going to have an adult conversation, then she would have to find a backdoor into it. “Your mother has really changed.”
Reina held the cigarette between her lips long enough to take a shallow draft. “You noticed that too, huh?”
Another chair stood next to the messy futon on the floor. We used to make love in that futon. Aiko wanted to cling to those warm memories, but now wasn’t the time. She slowly crossed the room and sat, her lithe body creating a creak she did not expect. Reina glanced up briefly before taking another draft. The thickness of the cigarette smoke choked the bedroom.
“I’m sorry.”
Reina released a breath heavy with smoke. “That’s nice.”
Aiko averted her eyes so they wouldn’t burn from the smoke wafting in her direction. She focused on the far wall instead, covered in old tear-out posters of ‘80s artists Reina used to listen to – and still did, since her tastes never made it past 1994. On the desk by the door was a heart-wrenching surprise: two stuffed cats, one black and one white, that Reina had won for them from a crane game on one of their first dates twenty years ago. Aiko had forgotten about those cats, but now looking at them made her want to cry. Those cats went together like she and Reina d
id. The silence in the room was deafening.
“Aren’t we gonna talk at all?” Aiko asked, facing her spouse again.
“We’re talking now.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
Aiko settled her purse in her lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my friend.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Shrugging, Aiko sank farther into her seat. “Didn’t think about it. And when I did, I figured you would get…”
Reina held eye contact with her for the first time. “Get what? Jealous?”
Aiko said nothing. Yes.
A laugh, followed by a smoker’s cough. “You were right.”
“It was still wrong of me to not talk about it. But…” Aiko leaned her head back, hair draping down the chair. “I didn’t know what I wanted from a relationship with him.”
Reina’s eyes lit up like the sunshine outside. “What do you mean?”
God, this now? Aiko couldn’t help but laugh at her own misfortune. “You were right about one thing. I have been different lately, haven’t I?” She sat up, hair obscuring her face. “If we decided to have children, I would do anything to make that possible. If that meant having sex with a man, so be it. And when I thought of it like that, I realized…the thought didn’t disgust me, like it disgusts you. I don’t have that abhorrence to men. So when I met him, and we got along so well and had so much in common…I thought that it would only be natural to make a child with him. But to be raised by us.”
Reina’s face was paler than the light shining upon it. “Are you pregnant?”
“No!” Here came the frustration again, throwing Aiko’s purse out of her lap to sit on it like the needy child she would never have. “I’ve never had sex with a man. I would never unless it came to that. And it would be a decision you and I both made together. I love you, Reina. I love you more than anyone. I don’t want to leave you, let alone for a man I barely know.” She would leave out the parts about Takeshi being in love with her. Perhaps it was more lies by omission, but it was not something Reina needed to hear now. “I would never throw away what we have like that.”
Koibumi Page 23
