Pachinko

by Min Jin Lee

  “Come back to me,” she said flirtatiously, fingering her white cotton top.

  Noa retreated to the futon.

  After making love between classes, they had been lolling in Noa’s rented room—an exceptionally large living space for a university student, with two square windows that let in the morning light and immense floor space for a double futon and a furry beige rug. Thick piles of novels covered his large pine desk—Dickens, Tolstoy, Balzac, and Hugo. The fancy electric lamp with a green glass shade was off. Noa couldn’t have conceived of anything as nice as this room and could not believe his luck at the incredibly low rent. Hansu’s friend was the landlord, and it had come furnished with new, elegant things—ideal for a student studying literature and English. Noa had had to bring only his clothes packed in his father’s old suitcase.

  Akiko claimed that none of the other students lived in a place as nice, even if they lived at home in Tokyo. She lived in a beautiful apartment with her family in Minami-Azabu, but in a room half the size of his; she spent all her free time between classes at his place. Her things were on his desk, in his bathroom, and in his closet. The commonplace idea that girls were neater than boys was not true in her case.

  Despite Akiko’s best efforts, Noa couldn’t do it again so soon. Embarrassed, he finished dressing. She, too, rose to fix herself a cup of tea.

  There was no kitchen here, but Noa had an electric kettle that Hansu had bought for him. All Noa had to do was study, Hansu had said. “Learn everything you can. Learn for all the Koreans, for every Korean who couldn’t go to a school like Waseda.” Hansu paid the tuition in full before the start of each term. Freed from worrying about money, Noa studied more fervently than he ever had. He reread books and studied as many critical essays as he could find. His only relief from work was this lovely girl whom he had fallen for. She was brilliant, sensual, and creative.

  “What is he like?” Akiko asked, sprinkling tea leaves into the iron teapot.

  “Who?”

  “Koh Hansu, your benefactor. You’re leaving me in ten minutes to meet him. You do this on the first of the month.”

  Noa hadn’t told her, but of course, she had guessed. Akiko wanted to meet Hansu. She had asked numerous times if she could tag along, but Noa did not think it was appropriate.

  “He’s a good friend of the family. I told you. My mother and grandmother knew him before they came to Japan. He’s from Jeju, which is not very far from Busan. He owns a construction company.”

  “Is he good-looking?”

  “What?”

  “Like you. Korean men are really good-looking.”

  Noa smiled. What could he say to this? Of course, not all Korean men were good-looking, and not all Korean men were bad-looking, either. They were just men. Akiko liked to make positive generalizations about Koreans and other foreigners. She reserved her harshest words for well-off Japanese.

  Akiko put down her teacup and pushed him down on the futon playfully, and Noa fell on his back. She straddled him and removed her shirt. She wore a white cotton bra and panties. She looked so beautiful, he thought. Her black hair fell like glossy, iridescent feathers around her face.

  “Is he like you?” She rubbed against him.

  “No, no. We’re very different.” Noa exhaled and removed her gently from his hips, puzzled himself by his answer. “I mean, I don’t know. He’s a generous man. I told you before: He doesn’t have a son, and his daughters don’t want to go to university, so he has been supporting me. I intend to pay him back. He’s helped my family in difficult times. He’s my benefactor; that’s all.”

  “Why do you have to pay him back? Isn’t he loaded?”

  “I don’t know.” Noa went to get his socks from the dresser. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a debt. I will pay him back.”

  “Don’t you want to stay with me?” Akiko removed her brassiere to reveal her champagne glass–sized tits.

  “You are tempting me, my beauty,” he said. “But I must get going. I will see you tomorrow, nee?”

  There was absolutely no time to have sex again, he told himself, even if he could get another erection, which he doubted.

  “Can’t I come and meet him, Noa-chan? When will I meet your family?”

  “He’s not my family, and I don’t know. I haven’t met yours, either.”

  “You don’t want to meet Mother and Father. They are racists,” she said. “Honto desu.”

  “Oh,” Noa said. “I will see you tomorrow. Lock up, please.”

  The sushi-ya was less than a mile away from his place. The interior was recently repaneled in fresh cedar, and the walls gave off the faint scent of clean, new wood. Hansu preferred to meet Noa here each month in the private room in the back. No one ever disturbed them except to bring them course after course of exceptional delicacies, brought in from various remote fishing villages in Japan.

  Normally, the two men talked about his classes, because Hansu was curious about what it was like to attend such a wondrous and fabled university. He had never attended secondary school or university. Hansu had taught himself both how to read and write Korean and Japanese from books, and as soon as he could afford it, Hansu had hired tutors to learn the kanji and hanja necessary to read difficult Japanese and Korean newspapers. He knew many rich men, strong men, and brave men, yet he was most impressed with educated men who could write well. He sought friendships with great journalists, because he admired their well-composed thoughts and points of view on the issues of the day. Hansu did not believe in nationalism, religion, or even love, but he trusted in education. Above all, he believed that a man must learn constantly. He loathed waste of any kind, and when all three of his daughters forsook school for baubles and gossip, he grew to despise his wife, who had allowed this to happen. The girls had good minds and unlimited resources, and she had let them throw these things away like garbage. The girls were lost to him, but he now had Noa. It thrilled him that Noa could read and write English so beautifully—a language he knew was essential in the world. Noa had recommended books to him, and Hansu had read them, because he wanted to know the things his son knew.

  The young man’s extraordinary scholarship was something Hansu knew he had to nurture. Hansu was not sure what he wanted Noa to do when he graduated; he was careful not to say too much, because it was clear that Noa had some of his own ideas. Hansu wanted to back him, the way he wanted to back good business plans.

  The two sat cross-legged on the pristine tatami floor with a low acacia wood table between them.

  “You should have more of the sea urchin. The chef had it brought for us from Hokkaido last night,” Hansu said. He enjoyed watching Noa, a poor student, eat these rare things that he himself consumed regularly.

  Noa nodded in appreciation and finished his portion. He didn’t enjoy eating this way or even this kind of food. Noa knew how proper Japanese people behaved and could imitate their mannerisms faultlessly, so he ate whatever was put in front of him and was grateful. However, he preferred to eat a nourishing bowl of simple food quickly and be done with it. He ate the way most working Koreans did: Tasty food was merely necessary fuel, something to be eaten in a rush so you could return to your work. Well-off Japanese considered this sort of eating—high volume, strong flavors, and deliberate speed—nothing short of vulgar. In his benefactor’s presence, Noa aped the ruling-class Japanese, not wishing to disappoint Hansu, yet Noa was simply not interested in food or sitting still very long for a meal. Akiko teased him about this as well, but they did not go to luxurious restaurants, so it was of little consequence in their relationship.

  Noa liked being with Hansu, but it was tedious watching another person drink while eating so little. Obviously, Hansu could drink a great deal and somehow manage a successful construction company, but Noa was suspicious of any form of drinking. As a little boy on his way to school, he used to have to step over grown men who were sleeping off their drunken binges from the night before. When he worked as a bookkeeper for the real estate compan
y in Ikaino, he had seen many fathers unable to pay the rent, resulting in their families being thrown out of their homes—the trouble having started with a few harmless drinks on payday. And every winter, homeless alcoholic Koreans froze to death near the Sumida River, their bodies unaware of the deadly frost. Noa didn’t drink. Hansu could drink bottles of sake or soju without any visible effect, so in accordance with Korean tradition, Noa poured his elder’s drink, cup after cup, dragging the precious meal out even further.

  As Noa was pouring the sake into the Oribe sake cup, the gentle knock on the paper screen door startled him.

  “Enter,” Hansu said.

  “Excuse me, Koh-san,” said the young waitress, who had no makeup on. She wore a simple indigo day kimono with a mushroom-colored obi.

  “Yes?” Hansu said.

  Noa smiled at the waitress, who looked and behaved like a well-mannered girl child.

  “There is a lady who says she would like to say hello to you.”

  “Really?” Hansu said. “To me?”

  “Yes.” The waitress nodded.

  “Very well,” Hansu said. Few people knew that he ate at this restaurant. It was possible that one of his boss’s secretaries was bringing a private message for him, but that was odd, because more commonly, young men from the company were sent on such errands. Hansu’s driver and bodyguard were outside the restaurant standing guard; they would have prevented anyone dangerous from reaching him. They would have examined her for certain.

  The waitress closed the door, and in a few moments knocked again.

  This time, Noa rose to his feet and opened the door himself. It felt good to stretch his legs.

  “Akiko,” Noa said, his mouth momentarily agape.

  “Hello,” she said, standing by the waitress, waiting to be invited in.

  “Is this your friend, Noa?” Hansu asked, smiling at this gorgeous thing who looked Japanese.

  “Yes.”

  “Welcome. Please have a seat. You wanted to see me?”

  “Noa thought I should stop by and say hello to his benefactor, so I came by at his insistence,” Akiko said, smiling.

  “Yes,” Noa said, not sure why he was agreeing to this story but lacking an alternative narrative. “I should have mentioned that Akiko might be stopping by. I’m sorry if I took you by surprise.”

  “Not at all. I’m very happy to meet a friend of Noa. You must join us for lunch.”

  Hansu looked up at the waitress, who was still standing by the door.

  “Please bring another setting and a sake cup for Noa’s friend,” Hansu said, feeling both curious and pleased that the boy would want him to meet his girlfriend. He wanted to welcome her.

  Immediately, a place setting and a wine cup appeared before her. The chef himself brought them a dish of fried oysters sprinkled with transparent flakes of English salt. Noa poured Hansu a cup of wine, then Hansu poured a cup for Akiko.

  “To new friends,” Hansu said, raising his cup.

  19

  The young couple remained standing by the restaurant door as Hansu got into his car. Akiko and Noa bowed deep from the waist in the direction of the rear passenger seat, where Hansu was seated. The chauffeur closed the passenger door, bowed to the couple, then got behind the wheel to take Hansu to his next meeting.

  “I don’t see why you’re so upset,” Akiko said, still smiling like a proper Japanese schoolgirl, though Hansu was already gone. “Koh-san is wonderful. I’m glad I met him.”

  “You lied,” Noa said, his voice trembling. He didn’t want to speak for fear of saying something awful, but he couldn’t help himself. “I…I didn’t invite you to the lunch. Why did you say that to Koh-san? The lunch could have turned out badly. This man is important to our family. He’s supporting my education. I owe him a great deal.”

  “Nothing happened. It was an ordinary lunch with relatives at a fancy sushi-ya. Big deal. I’ve been to dozens of them. I behaved perfectly. He liked me,” Akiko said, puzzled by his irritation. She had always been confident of her ability to win grown-ups over.

  “Are you ashamed of me?” Akiko asked, laughing, strangely delighted to be having a fight with Noa, who was normally so calm and silent that she didn’t know what went through his mind. Besides, it was his fault: He was so difficult to understand, she’d felt compelled to go to this lunch without an invitation. She hadn’t done it to upset him. He should have been pleased that she cared enough about him to get to know his friends.

  “You would never have let me. I was right to go.” She touched his arm, and he moved away.

  “Akiko, why, why do you always have to be right? Why do you always have to have the upper hand? Why can’t I decide when and where you can meet someone personal to me? I would never do this to you. I would respect your privacy,” Noa sputtered, and he put his hand over his mouth.

  Akiko stared at him, not understanding. She was not used to a man saying no to her. His cheeks were flushed; he was having trouble getting the words out. This wasn’t the same man who would explain difficult passages of her sociology texts to her or help her with her statistics homework. Her gentle and wise Noa was furious.

  “What is it? Is it that you are embarrassed that you are Korean?”

  “What?” Noa took a step back. He looked around to see if anyone could hear their argument. “What are you saying?” He looked at her as if she was deranged.

  Akiko grew calm and she spoke slowly.

  “I’m not embarrassed that you are Korean. I think it’s great that you are Korean. It doesn’t bother me at all. It might bother any ignorant person or even my racist parents, but I love that you are Korean. Koreans are smart and hardworking, and the men are so handsome,” she said, smiling at him like she was flirting. “You are upset. Listen, if you want, I can arrange for you to meet my whole family. They’d be lucky to meet such an excellent Korean. It would change the way they—”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. No more of this.”

  Akiko moved closer to him. An older woman passed by and glanced at them, but Akiko didn’t pay her any attention.

  “Noa-chan, why are you so angry with me? You know that I think you’re the best. Let’s go home, and you can fuck me.”

  Noa stared at her. She would always believe that he was someone else, that he wasn’t himself but some fanciful idea of a foreign person; she would always feel like she was someone special because she had condescended to be with someone everyone else hated. His presence would prove to the world that she was a good person, an educated person, a liberal person. Noa didn’t care about being Korean when he was with her; in fact, he didn’t care about being Korean or Japanese with anyone. He wanted to be, to be just himself, whatever that meant; he wanted to forget himself sometimes. But that wasn’t possible. It would never be possible with her.

  “I will pack up your things and have them sent to your house by messenger. I don’t want to see you anymore. Please never come see me again.”

  “Noa, what are you saying?” Akiko said, astonished. “Is this the Korean temper that I’ve never seen before?” She laughed.

  “You and I. It cannot be.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it cannot.” There was nothing else he could think of, and he wanted to spare her the cruelty of what he had learned, because she would not believe that she was no different than her parents, that seeing him as only Korean—good or bad—was the same as seeing him only as a bad Korean. She could not see his humanity, and Noa realized that this was what he wanted most of all: to be seen as human.

  “He’s your father, isn’t he?” Akiko said. “He looks exactly like you. You told me your father died, but he’s not dead. You just didn’t want him to meet me, because you didn’t want me to meet your yakuza papa. And you didn’t want me to know that he’s a gangster. How else do you explain that ridiculous car and uniformed chauffeur? How else can he put you up in that enormous apartment? Even my father can’t afford that apartment, and he owns a trading comp
any! Come on, Noa, how can you get mad at me when all I wanted was to learn more about you? I don’t care about what he does. It doesn’t matter—I don’t mind that you’re Korean. Don’t you see?”

  Noa turned around and walked away. He walked until he couldn’t hear her scream his name anymore. He walked rigidly and calmly, not believing that a person you loved—yes, he had loved her—could end up being someone you never knew. Perhaps he had known all along about her, but he couldn’t see it. He just couldn’t. When Noa reached the train station, he went down the stairs to the platform slowly. He felt like he might fall down. He would take the first train to Osaka.

  It was early evening when he reached the house. His Aunt Kyunghee started when she answered the door. He was distraught and wanted to speak to his mother. Uncle Yoseb was sleeping in the back room, and his mother was in the front room sewing. He wouldn’t take off his coat. When Sunja came to the door, Noa asked if they could go outside to talk.

  “What? What’s the matter?” Sunja asked, putting on her shoes.

  Noa wouldn’t answer. He went outside to wait for her.

  Noa led her away from the shopping street to a spot where there were very few people.

  “Is it true?” Noa asked his mother. “About Koh Hansu.”

  He couldn’t say the words out loud exactly, but he had to know.

  “Why he pays for my school, and why he’s always been around. You were together—” he said. It was easier to say this than the other thing.

  Sunja had been buttoning her faded woolen coat, and she stopped walking and stared at her son’s face. She understood. Yoseb had been right all along. She shouldn’t have allowed Hansu to pay for his education. But she hadn’t been able to find another way. Noa had gone to work each day and saved every bit of his earnings and studied every night until his eyes were red-rimmed in the morning, and he had finally passed the entrance examination for Waseda.

  How could she have said no? There were no loans for this. There was no one else who could help. She had always been afraid of Hansu’s presence in Noa’s life. Would that money keep Noa tied to Hansu? she had wondered. But not to take the money. Was that possible?