The Perfect World of Miwako Sumida

by Clarissa Goenawan

  Chie struggled to remain composed. “I’m sorry. I don’t.”

  “Something big must have happened for her to do what she did.”

  She swallowed. Don’t say anything, Chie. You have to protect Miwako.

  “You do know something, don’t you?” he asked. “You look upset.”

  She crossed her arms and avoided his gaze. “You need to consider the possibility that she thought it was better for you not to know certain things, or else she would have told you.” Chie turned to Ryusei. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but Miwako is gone. Nothing you do will bring her back. There’s no use chasing a shadow.”

  His expression hardened. “Is that all she is to you now? A shadow?”

  The tug in her chest grew into a sharp pain.

  “Please tell me what you know,” Ryusei said.

  She shook her head. “I can’t help you.” Had Ryusei always been this stubborn? Arms still crossed, she looked out the window, wondering when her mother would return. I’m going to have serious trouble explaining why I let a boy in without her permission.

  “I need to figure out what happened when she left,” he continued.

  Chie sighed. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

  “Do you know where she went?”

  She swallowed again. “I have no idea.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’ve got no business there.”

  “Let me decide that for myself.”

  Chie cursed silently. “She didn’t want this, Ryusei.”

  “That’s not true. Miwako told me she wanted to tell me something and I was waiting until she was ready.” Ryusei opened his backpack and took out some envelopes. “While she was gone, she wrote me these letters.”

  “Ah.” Chie should’ve known she wasn’t the only one her best friend had kept in touch with.

  He gave one to her. “I’m sure there’s something important for me there.”

  The letter was short. So Miwako had hinted about telling Ryusei the truth. But in the end, she’d chosen not to. Wasn’t that proof enough?

  Ryusei looked into her eyes. “I know I can’t force you to tell me anything, and I don’t plan to. But if you ever change your mind, please give me a call.”

  She kept quiet. Why had Miwako left this decision to her?

  “I’ll take my leave now,” he said, standing up and grabbing his backpack. “Sorry for coming here without warning.”

  She got up too. “Don’t worry about it. You should go home and rest. You look tired.”

  “I’m going to Miwako’s house first. Her mother might know where she was all that time.”

  No, not Miwako’s mother—she can’t handle it right now. “Why are you obsessing over this?” Chie asked, walking Ryusei out. “Even if you make it there, you won’t find anything.”

  “I’m still going to try. This is the only lead I have,” he said. “I’ll see you around. Give my regards to Toshi.”

  Chie watched Ryusei put on his shoes. She empathized with him, of course, but she couldn’t betray Miwako—she had to keep her promise.

  But had Miwako really wanted this? She’d written that letter to Ryusei, after all. What if Chie had been wrong about Miwako’s last wishes?

  “Kitsuyama,” she finally said. As she uttered it, the name felt heavy on her tongue.

  Ryusei looked up. “Kitsuyama?”

  “It’s a tiny, very remote mountain village.” Chie’s jaw tightened. “Are you planning to go there?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Yes. I’ll make my way there as soon as possible, probably stay in the village for a couple days. Miwako wrote about volunteering at a clinic there. I’ll see if I can do that too.”

  They looked at each other.

  “Chie.” Ryusei broke the silence. “Would you like to come with me to Kitsuyama? Toshi can join us too.”

  His expression was earnest, almost pleading. Chie sighed.

  “There’s really nothing for you there,” she said. “You shouldn’t bother.”

  He put on his backpack. “I have to do whatever I can.”

  She paused, resigned. Perhaps going with him wasn’t such a bad idea. She could at least keep tabs on what he was doing, make sure he didn’t get too close to anything damaging.

  “All right,” she said eventually.

  He smiled. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. Once I figure out lodging, I’ll give you a call.”

  Their conversation was cut short by the neighbor’s kid, who peeked over the fence again.

  “Chie’s planning to elope with her new lover,” he shouted before running into his house.

  Ryusei laughed. “We should tell Toshi before he hears that one.”

  Chie ran her hand through her hair. “About that, can you keep this to yourself? I don’t want anyone knowing about this trip. I mean—” She struggled to find the right words. “Let’s not complicate things.” The fewer people who knew, the better.

  He furrowed his brow. “I can’t do that. Toshi is my friend. What if he thinks something’s up between us?”

  “That brat isn’t telling anyone anything. Toshi won’t find out about the trip unless you tell him. And you shouldn’t, precisely because he’s your friend.” She looked Ryusei in the eye. “Consider this my only condition.”

  He went quiet for a moment, looking conflicted. Finally, he said, “Okay. But I’m not responsible for any misunderstandings, then.”

  “I doubt there will be any. But if there are, I’ll be the one to explain.” Chie closed the front gate. “I’ll wait for your call.”

  The bus ride from the train station to the mountain was arduous. Ryusei and Chie were the only passengers. On the journey, the bus didn’t make a single stop. The road wound through forests and fields and across bridges over rivers. Jizo statues stood by the roadside, some decorated with flowers.

  Ryusei and Chie got off at the foot of the mountain. Once they stepped out, fresh air filled their lungs and took away their fatigue. Before them was an unpaved hiking path with a small, worn sign that read, this way to kitsuyama.

  “We should try to reach the village before the sky gets dark,” Ryusei said, still carrying both their rucksacks.

  Chie looked up at the towering mountain. “This will be good exercise.”

  Ryusei chuckled, and Chie took the lead. Not because she was familiar with where they were, but because there was only a single narrow path, just wide enough for one person at a time to walk comfortably. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any groups coming down the mountain.

  Their surroundings were just as Miwako had described in her letters to Chie: tall grass on both sides of the pathway, trees that looked like they had been there for a thousand years. Monotonous insects’ hums echoed from all directions, a reminder that the area was still virtually untouched.

  A gust of wind hit them, and Chie shivered. She asked Ryusei for her rucksack and took out a thick jacket, pulling the collar up over her neck.

  “We need to move quickly,” she said. “Miwako said the fog usually sets in once the sun goes down. It’ll be harder to make the climb.”

  “Then you should walk faster. I’m just going by your pace.”

  He was right. Chie grunted and quickened her step. As they reached a higher altitude, her breathing became heavier. She had never been the athletic type.

  “I was just teasing,” Ryusei said, probably noticing her state. “You should go at whatever speed you want. If you faint, it’s going to be difficult for me to carry you.”

  She turned to him. “Can we take a break?”

  “Yes, but let’s find a good place to stop first. The grass around here is too tall to sit on. There are more trees and less grass right up there. We should be able to find a spot.”

  Chie nodded, and they cont
inued to hike. Her legs were getting weak, but she forced herself to walk faster. Not long after, she heard the sound of trickling water.

  “There’s a river ahead,” Chie called out, turning around. To her surprise, Ryusei’s face had lost its color. “Hey, are you all right? You look pale.”

  “I’m fine. Probably didn’t get enough sleep.”

  She stared at him. “Really?”

  “I’ve had trouble with that for the past couple of weeks. I took sleeping pills at first, but they’ve stopped working.”

  She walked on in silence, then recalled their earlier conversation at the ramen stall. “Hey Ryusei, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “About what you said earlier, I don’t doubt your sincerity. But at times, I wonder why someone like you fell for Miwako. Not to be cynical, but you’re pretty good-looking. Don’t you have other options out there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “Prettier girls, I suppose? Or are you into plainer ones? That doesn’t really make sense.”

  Ryusei laughed. “Chie, Miwako wasn’t unattractive. But physical appearance isn’t everything. Honestly, it might not even be a factor once you get to know someone. Their interests, life philosophy, sense of humor, even their taste in art and books and music. The other factors at play are endless.” He paused. “What I’m trying to say is, you can’t judge romantic interest based on superficial things.”

  “Are you saying you can be attracted to someone who isn’t your type at all?”

  “Of course,” he said. “And what about you? Why do you like Toshi?”

  She pondered for a moment. Toshi was certainly fun to be with. He never failed to make her laugh, and he was so understanding and caring. But was she really in love with him, or did she just like the idea of being in a relationship?

  “I don’t know,” Chie said, glancing at Ryusei. “A little bit of everything.” What a half-hearted answer.

  The corners of his lips turned up. “Are you evading the question?”

  “Maybe.” She stopped walking and pointed to a rock by the river. “Let’s sit. I’m tired.”

  The two of them sat on rocks a few meters apart on the riverbank. Chie took her shoes off and dipped her bare feet into the shallow river. The water was icy cold. Colorful rocks were scattered at the bottom. Ryusei called to Chie and threw her a packet of sweet bun, but she reacted too late. The bun fell into the light current. She bent down to scoop the packet out. When her fingers came out of the water, they felt frozen.

  “Are you okay?” Ryusei asked. “Don’t forget to drink some water.”

  Chie tore open the plastic packaging. She wasn’t hungry, but her appetite had been a mess lately. Ryusei came over and sat next to her.

  “Isn’t it peaceful here?” she said, munching on the bun.

  “Yeah, it’s like we’re in a totally different world,” he said.

  She held her breath. “What did you just say?”

  “I said yes, it does feel peaceful here.”

  “No, after that. That this place feels like a different world. Miwako said something just like that in her letter. She . . .” Chie’s voice trailed off. “I shouldn’t keep talking about her. I’m sorry. It was inconsiderate of me.”

  “No, please continue,” he said, staring off into the distance. “I want to hear.”

  Chie brushed her toes against the rocks in the water. “Miwako said the villagers believe the goddess of earth rules this mountain. She protects this place and cuts it off from the rest of the world. It becomes a completely different universe with a separate timeline.”

  “The goddess of earth . . .” Ryusei took a long, sweeping look at the scenery. “Not too hard to imagine.”

  Chie mumbled in agreement and dried her feet with her jacket. “Shall we continue?”

  Ryusei and Chie returned to the pathway. The tall grass had given way to trees so densely packed, they almost blocked out the sun. Dried leaves covered the mossy ground, and tiny white mushrooms were scattered all over the tree roots. Chie slipped on a wet patch and nearly fell, but Ryusei was quick enough to catch her arm.

  “Be careful.” He helped her steady herself. “You don’t want to twist your ankle in a place like this.”

  Chie mustered a thank-you and stepped more carefully. The sound of trickling water had vanished. Occasionally, birds chirped in the distance. Amidst the endless wave of trees, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

  “Do you think we’re close?” Ryusei asked.

  “We should be.” She showed him her watch. “We’ve been walking for at least four hours, and we’ve barely rested. From what I understand, it’s supposed to be a five-hour hike.”

  “Uh-huh,” he mumbled, looking at their surroundings. “Do you think this is where Miwako hanged herself?”

  Chie stopped.

  “Sorry. That was inappropriate.”

  She didn’t answer, but his question wouldn’t leave her mind. Had Miwako committed suicide here? With the possibility taking root, the mountain felt anything but peaceful.

  For a moment, Chie felt the forest spirit calling her, beckoning her to join souls with it and remain here forever, in this world where the goddess of earth ruled and everything was preserved for an eternity.

  Stay here, so you can be free. You no longer need to carry this burden.

  “Hey.” Ryusei’s voice roused Chie from her thoughts. “Is the fog setting in?”

  “That can’t be. It’s only the afternoon.” But when she looked ahead, she saw the faint blanket of white smoke. “You’re right. We have a problem.”

  10

  A Forest

  Cat

  and a

  Typical

  City

  Girl

  Chie quickened her pace and tried to push aside thoughts of Miwako. If she and Ryusei got lost here, there was no one to help them. At least not until tomorrow morning or even days from now. How often did people go hiking in a place like this? They hadn’t come across a single person so far.

  The trees had become denser. Only a faint tinge of light filtered through the foliage. Ryusei passed Chie a flashlight, which she shined onto the pathway. The ground looked different with thin patches of moss scattered around.

  “Do you think we’re lost?” she asked in a small voice.

  Ryusei took the flashlight from her and checked their surroundings. “We’re just on a different route. We should be fine if we continue to go up, since the village is at the top.”

  Chie tried to speak, but she couldn’t. Her stomach felt like a wet cloth being wrung out.

  Ryusei reached for her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll get there soon.”

  He squeezed past her and led the way. The fog grew thicker, making it hard to see anything ahead. The greenery was disorienting. No matter how far they walked, all they could see were more trees. Chie’s legs felt weak. She had a hard time keeping up with Ryusei.

  “Hold on a moment,” she called. “I think I need to stop. I’m so tired.”

  He turned to her. “Can you bear it for just a bit more? It’s getting dark.”

  Chie knew Ryusei was just being logical, but she felt like she was on the verge of breaking down. She shook her head and pressed her lips together.

  His brow furrowed. “All right, let’s have some water. We’ll keep going after that.”

  Leaning against a tree, Ryusei passed a bottle of water to Chie. She took a few sips as he ran the flashlight over their surroundings again. It was no use. No matter which direction they faced, everything looked the same.

  “Maybe we should have brought a compass,” Ryusei said with a nervous laugh. “I guess we’ll have to spend the night here.”

  Chie lowered her head.

 
; He grinned. “I’m only joking.”

  She sighed in frustration. “Is this really the time for that?”

  Ryusei sighed. “Come on, don’t you have a sense of humor? And it’s true—chances are pretty high that we’re going to have to spend the night in the forest. I have no idea which way we’re supposed to go. You can decide, but we might end up wandering deeper into the woods, and then we’ll be exhausted.”

  “Are you blaming me for this?”

  “No, I didn’t say that.”

  Ryusei took out another sweet bun packet from his bag. He opened it and handed it to Chie. She ate in silence and waited for him to open his own, but he didn’t.

  “Not hungry?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Chie was about to finish her bun when she noticed Ryusei wasn’t looking directly at her. He was fidgeting too much.

  “This was the last of our food, wasn’t it?” Chie asked.

  “Smart girl,” Ryusei said with a laugh. “Nothing escapes you, does it?”

  “You should’ve told me. We could’ve shared.”

  “It’s a small packet. Hardly makes a difference.”

  She couldn’t believe his attempt at chivalry in this dire situation. “What do we do now?”

  “We’ve got two choices, and you get to decide,” he said. “One, we sleep here and resume our hike tomorrow after the fog clears. Two, we continue to climb and hope we reach the village somehow.”

  Chie buried her head in her hands. Neither option felt right. They shouldn’t go on blindly, but the thought of spending the night in this dark forest frightened her, especially since she couldn’t shake the thought of Miwako having hanged herself here.

  She touched the ground. The soil was cold and damp.

  Before she could decide, Ryusei stood and looked around.

  “What is it?” she asked, getting up too.

  “I thought I heard a cat,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes. “A cat? Are you sure?”

  “Shh,” he hissed, staring into her eyes. “Can’t you hear it?”

  Chie listened intently, but the only sounds she heard were nocturnal insects and rustling leaves. Definitely not a cat. She shook her head, and Ryusei furrowed his brow. He gestured for her to follow him and stay quiet. She reluctantly obliged. There’s no cat here. That much she was sure of. Chie tugged at Ryusei’s sleeve, but he ignored her. He gazed intently ahead. She clicked her tongue, but then she spotted a trail.