The cicadas were buzzing. There had been hardly any cicadas near Nishino’s apartment. Leaving the windows open had only allowed the hot air from the other apartments’ air conditioners to pour into Nishino’s, so eventually I had stopped bothering to open them. Despite the fact that I hated air conditioning, I had ended up just leaving it on at Nishino’s.
When I got home, I threw open the windows and curtains and filled my ears with the sound of the cicadas. Besides the fax with the corrections, two others had come in. A request to review a children’s book, and a pamphlet-length questionnaire from a life insurance company.
Do you experience anxiety about your retirement?
What do you imagine when you hear the words “your future”?
The future, indeed, I muttered to myself as I crumpled up the life insurance fax and threw it in the trash can.
I went through the corrections carefully and faxed them back, then read over the materials for the manuscript that was due at the end of the following week. After a late lunch, I was feeling drowsy. In summertime, I pull a huge goza mat made of rushes out from the back of the closet and leave it on the tatami floor. I laid down on the mat and promptly fell asleep.
When I awoke, it was completely dark. I felt energized. Maybe I should call someone and go out tonight, I had just thought to myself when the phone rang.
“Ah, Rei.”
I didn’t immediately recognize who it was.
Uh-huh, I mumbled in reply.
“I’m glad you’re there.”
I’m here. My place and all, I said, and the person laughed. It was by the laugh that I realized it was Nishino.
“How are you?” I asked.
“I was surprised to come home and not find you here.”
I had work to do, I replied, and Nishino laughed again.
It’s a tough world when even animals have to work, he said.
It’s hot, isn’t it? Wherever you go. Want to go out for a beer? I ventured. I had been with Nishino up until this morning, so I had been in the mood to get together with another friend, but here he was on the phone. I figured that inviting him was the polite thing to do.
Sure, Nishino said. There was a note of politeness in his voice too. Politeness begat politeness, I guessed. There was something strange, I thought, about the way that Nishino must have used this same voice with every girl. He appeared so cool, and here he was, such an unexpectedly diligent worker.
“Hey, what do you imagine when you hear the words, ‘the future?’” I decided to ask.
“Why do you ask, out of the blue?”
“I’m talking about the future.”
Hmm . . . Nishino murmured for a moment. He probably went straight to the idea of being made to commit. Things that were connected with marriage, or family.
“Me, I think of castle walls.”
Nishino was just humming away without any sort of response, so I offered my own first.
“Castle walls?” Nishino asked.
“Like in a kingdom.”
“A kingdom.”
“Yeah—a kingdom where it’s always summer, there are lots of cicadas buzzing, and it’s surrounded by high castle walls and ruled fairly by a very old king.”
“Th-That’s your image of the future, Rei?” I could sense Nishino’s confusion over the phone.
“Right.”
“But then, in your mind, how are the cicadas related to that old king?”
“Doesn’t a kingdom like that seem like a happy place to live?” I said. Nishino sighed.
I don’t get it. In your version of the future, there’s nothing like marriage, or children, or pensions.
“No, there isn’t. Not even if you look at it sideways or turn it upside down.” That was how I really felt, and I said so.
Well, anyway, should we go for a beer? I asked, and Nishino agreed, sounding relieved.
I was kind of beginning to like Nishino. I realized this as I was getting ready to go out. Just beginning to like him, not totally in love. Next week, after my deadline, I should go out with someone else, not Nishino, I thought to myself as I slid my heels into the straps of my sandals.
Nishino said that he had “properly” returned his key to his “last girlfriend.” He seemed to insert this casually into a pause in our conversation.
But I could tell that it wasn’t really so casual. Nishino wanted to be sure to tell me. This was the kind of thing that irritated me. If Nishino liked me, why not just say so? As far as I was concerned, telling me that he had given his old girlfriend her key back was not any sort of metaphor and had no implication.
“Are you busy at work?” I asked in a perfunctory manner. I was rapidly losing interest in Nishino.
“No busier than usual,” Nishino replied easily.
I’ll have one more glass, and then go home, I decided.
“Oh, crap!” I said. “I forgot all about a deadline I have.”
I wasn’t so inundated with requests that I would forget a deadline. But Nishino wouldn’t know that.
Oh, really? Nishino looked at me with a smile on his face that implied plenty of assurance. Hey, what’s your apartment like, Rei? Nishino asked.
Nothing special. I have one room with tatami mats and one room with a wooden floor, and the walls of both are lined with bookcases. Other than that, I have a small television, a medium-sized refrigerator, and a fax machine.
Sounds just like the kind of apartment you’d have, Rei. Nishino smiled. He was the type of guy who looked good when he smiled. His appearance was neat, and though there was a hint of an edge about him, he spoke without a trace of sarcasm. Why had I slept with a boy like this, one who would be just fine for any kind of girl? I regretted it.
“Well, then, I’ll be going.” I stood up as I drained the alcohol that was left in my glass.
Nishino was momentarily blank. Then he quickly regained his composure. The thing was, if he were to remain blank like that, I might actually be more interested in him. I thought this to myself and gave a little wave to Nishino as he sat there. I pressed a five-thousand-yen note into his palm, and hurriedly started walking toward the door.
I took long and deep breaths as I walked along the street to the station. After I’d walked for a bit, I completely forgot about Nishino.
Nishino went on, “But Rei, maybe you don’t like me all that much.”
It had been around three weeks since I’d last spoken to Nishino. I’d had an unusual convergence of deadlines, and also I’d had to go to the Kansai region to do some research. He called me on Sunday evening, when I had just returned from my trip. Alone in my apartment, I had hastily put away my bags and was excitedly preparing some saké to go with the mackerel sushi I had splurged on—this sabazushi was especially fancy and I was looking forward to polishing it off.
Nishino called me saying that he missed me at the exact moment when the saké I was heating up was at just the right temperature.
Right, yeah, maybe we can see each other next week, I replied vaguely, more focused on the saké.
Come on, aren’t you free tonight? Nishino persisted.
It’s urgent? I asked brusquely.
Nothing in particular. It’s just that I haven’t seen you all this time, and I guess I’m bored, Nishino said. I miss you. I want to see your face, Rei, I want to talk to you. Nishino went on, But Rei, maybe you don’t like me all that much.
Huh? Wait a minute, I thought. Could Nishino really be so upfront?
This was not the Nishino I was used to. Unlike before, when my interest in Nishino had suddenly waned, now my curiosity was just as suddenly piqued.
Rei, it’s just that, I really need to be with someone now, Nishino said.
But Nishino, you have lots of girlfriends and lovers, don’t you? Isn’t that your thing, knowing all about girls? I asked. Nishino made
a sound in the back of his throat. Why would you say that to me, Rei?
But, I really thought it was your specialty.
Well, maybe I am like one of those guys—you know, a womanizer. But how do you know about that, Rei? I haven’t said a word to you about my love affairs or about my recent sex life.
I can tell, from talking to you and from having sex with you—that’s all it takes, I replied, laughing.
Nishino laughed too on the other end of the line. It was the most cheerful I had ever heard his laughter sound.
Nishino—he’s not so bad. In fact, he’s kind of great, I thought to myself.
Hey, Nishino, I just brought back some sabazushi from Kyoto today. It cost me five thousand yen. We can eat it together. The moment the idea occurred to me, I said it. But if you want some, you have to come right over. Otherwise I’ll eat it all myself.
Nishino laughed again cheerfully.
Do you mind if I bring underwear and a toothbrush? Nishino asked. So that I can stay over, as long as you don’t mind.
And if I do mind, what will you do with them? I ventured.
Then I’ll donate the toothbrush to you.
And what will you do with the underwear?
I will dejectedly take it home with me.
Enough already—just bring your suit for tomorrow, I said.
While I waited for Nishino to arrive, I pulled the guest bedding from the closet—the bottom futon and the coverlet, sheets, and a pillow cover—and laid them out in the tatami room. It had been a long time since I’d had a boy over to my apartment. When I felt like having sex, I went right ahead and slept with a boy, but that isn’t to say that my desire was unremitting. It had been more than three years since a boy had come and gone from this apartment.
Nishino, I tried saying his name out loud. I was definitely looking forward to his visit.
Nishino, I tried saying it once more. I wanted to fall in love with him. If only I could fall in love with him. Without realizing it, that was what I was hoping for.
I loved the idea of falling in love with someone, but the actual being in love part was difficult. I was all too familiar with my own desires. And I was very straightforward about asking myself what it was that I really wanted.
If only I could want all of Nishino, I murmured.
I took three eggplants out of the refrigerator. I pierced the skin of the eggplants with a fork, and arranged them on the grill, lighting the flame on the gas stove. At first the flame was orange, but soon it changed to a pretty blue.
For a while, I stared intently at the transparent blue flame of the gas.
It was summer’s end when I began to fall in love with Nishino.
I truly wanted all of him now.
That day, before we ate the grilled eggplants, Nishino and I had sex. Tenderly, gently. By the time we had finished, I was no longer evaluating what having sex with Nishino was like. What I mean is, without worrying about whether the sex was kind of great, or fantastic, it just got better.
Once I’ve decided that I’m in love with all of someone—once I stop making value judgments about this thing being good or that being bad—it gets better. I can just be in love.
This is why, ever since that day at the end of summer, sex with Nishino became simply “sex with someone I love.” No longer “kind of great sex with someone” or “fantastic sex with someone.”
I want all of you.
Nishino had nodded when I said that, after we had sex that day. I doubt that Nishino understood—at that time or even afterward—what I meant by “all of you.” After all, Nishino didn’t know what it was really like to fall in love with a girl—he never tried to figure it out—because he was a boy.
“How do you know I’m like one of those guys?” Nishino probably would have asked, if I had voiced what I was thinking.
And wouldn’t I have responded the same way? “I can tell, from talking to you and from having sex with you—that’s all it takes.”
The trouble with wanting all of a boy like Nishino was that it was predictable. Of course, even after I decided on all of him, Nishino thought nothing of sleeping with girls who weren’t me. He slept with younger girls and older girls. With girls who were crazy in love with him and with girls who were just having fun, no strings attached. All I had to do was take a good hard look at Nishino, and I could tell as much.
But I paid no mind—I loved Nishino a lot.
I simply loved him.
There was only the smallest part of me that wanted to be loved (not even I could manage to love someone without hoping for a smidgen of love in return).
“Summer will be over soon, you know,” I said. It had been about a year since I had started loving Nishino.
“You’re right,” Nishino said. We were lying next to each other and he was stroking the top of my head.
“I’ve always liked summer’s end,” I murmured.
“Me, I’ve never really liked it,” Nishino replied flatly.
All I could do was sputter in response.
A sense of discomfort. I don’t think I ever called it that. But the entire time I was in love with Nishino, I always felt a bit unsettled. A small but concentrated and stubbornly persistent ache, like a knot.
My sister died at the end of summer, Nishino told me softly that day.
Really? I whispered. It was the first time he had mentioned it. Nishino hardly ever talked about himself.
Tentatively, I stroked the top of Nishino’s head.
While I was on my way to stay at a friend’s beach house, my sister killed herself by taking poison, in a nearby field. If only I had been home, I would have noticed. But I had gone to the beach house. Nishino spoke in the same monotone as always.
When they found her, it was too late. My sister was dead.
I continued stroking Nishino’s head attentively. He didn’t say anything more. I remained silent.
For the first time since falling in love with Nishino, I began to doubt him.
Maybe Nishino was incapable of love.
This had never occurred to me—not when he thought nothing of sleeping with other girls, not when I caught him telling little white lies.
Something like cool air seemed to emanate from Nishino’s body. The truth was, before he told me about his sister’s suicide, that chill must have always been present, like a thin, sharp wisp. But I had pretended not to notice it. I hadn’t even been aware of my own effort.
Such profound depths this poor guy has, I thought, forlornly.
Nishino. I called his name.
What is it, Rei?
I love you. I loved you.
What? Nishino’s eyes widened. Why did you use the past tense?
Because I can’t love you anymore, I told him honestly. I couldn’t say it any other way.
Why? Nishino sat up. I gazed sadly at the taut muscles in his stomach and chest.
I’m sorry.
Is it because I wasn’t faithful? Nishino asked.
Maybe . . . I replied. But I knew very well that it wasn’t.
I’m sorry. I won’t sleep with other girls anymore. I promise I won’t, Nishino cried out.
I was startled. I hadn’t thought that he cared enough about me to shout like that. I had assumed he cared a little. But I knew that he wasn’t crazy in love with me.
I loved you, I repeated. Just as forlornly as before.
Rei, is it really too late? Come on, how can it be?
Nishino was crying.
I didn’t know how much I loved you, Rei, he said through his tears.
I love you, Rei.
I’m sorry, I said firmly.
Deep in my heart, I wondered whether a girl existed in the world who was kind and strong enough to love Nishino. Perhaps. It was unlikely.
I felt sorry for Nishino, and almo
st started crying. But I steeled myself. At the same time, I remembered the cool air that had emanated from Nishino just before, and I shivered for real.
I wanted to flee from Nishino as quickly as possible. This desire welled up from the bottom of my heart. I still couldn’t put my finger on what that sense of discomfort was—all I knew for sure was that it was present. And no matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn’t make it go away—that cold and awful uneasiness.
I wanted to flee. This simple thought flooded my mind. The same way that I had wished I could love him.
Goodbye, Nishino said for the last time. His tone was polite and kind.
Oh, will the poor guy spend his life alone like this? I wondered, as I looked Nishino straight in the eyes.
“Someday, I hope you’ll show me the kingdom at summer’s end,” Nishino said. He was smiling.
“Oh, someday. Someday when I’m older, when I’m tougher, when I’m stronger,” I said, hanging my head.
Goodbye, Nishino said once more.
Goodbye, I said back to him.
We had walked along the street that leads from my apartment to the station. On this day that would be our last, Nishino had come to my place to get his things. I had kept hardly anything of mine at Nishino’s apartment. A half-used toothbrush and three spare ones. I gave the extra ones to Nishino and asked him to throw away the half-used one.
“You know, I have the feeling that I’ll die at the end of summer,” Nishino said, looking up.
“Then I’ll have to show you the kingdom before then.”
“Well, then I’ll live a long life, and wait for you to toughen up.”
“Think I ever will?”
“I doubt it. You’ll always be like a little animal, after all, Rei.”
Nishino smiled. There was something odd about his smile, as if he knew perfectly well that no woman could truly love him. His smile reminded me of the transparent blue flame of the gas burner on the stove.
I was on the verge of tears. I was so close to telling Nishino that I wanted to love him again. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
The Ten Loves of Nishino Page 8
