Rainbirds

by Clarissa Goenawan

Miyuki

  Katou

  That evening, I finally called Nae, though we didn’t end up talking.

  It was her father who picked up the phone. I recognized his croaky voice and hung up straightaway. I had no idea why; it was instinctive.

  I did miss Nae sometimes, but I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet.

  This was by far the longest relationship I’d been in. The previous ones had only lasted a couple of months. And Nae definitely cared about me. But I hadn’t even begun to recover from my sister’s death, and I’d started a new life here, at least for now. It wasn’t a good time to reenter a relationship I wasn’t sure about. I still didn’t know how I felt about the future she wanted for us.

  But I owed her news of some sort, after disappearing for weeks. I took a piece of paper from the desk drawer and wrote a letter.

  Dear Nae,

  How are you? Are you doing well? Or are you still angry?

  I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’m no longer in Tokyo. I’ve been in Akakawa for over a month. If you remember, it’s the town where my sister used to live. It’s only a temporary arrangement, six months at most.

  You might be wondering why I’ve come here. Well, a lot has happened. I should have let you know earlier, but I couldn’t bring myself to call. The truth is

  I stopped.

  The truth is, my sister has died. The sentence replayed itself in my head, but there was no way I could write it down.

  Crumpling the letter into a ball, I aimed it at the bin. I missed, and it rolled under the wardrobe. I crawled to retrieve it and saw the corner of a dust-covered paper peeking out. Hooking it out with my index finger, I shook it clean and smoothed it out.

  It was a child’s drawing, with my family written on top. A bespectacled man, a woman, and a girl with pigtails stood in front of a house. All three of them were smiling.

  The artist’s name was scribbled at the corner. Miyuki Katou.

  Mr. Katou was reading a poetry book in the reading room. He did this every Sunday night without fail. Despite the overwhelming number of options, he only ever chose one book: Silence.

  “Excuse me,” I greeted him.

  He put down the book and scowled at me. Anyone else would have thought he was displeased, but that was just the way he looked.

  I passed him the drawing. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I found this in my room.”

  He looked at it and remained silent.

  “I thought it might be important,” I continued.

  “It’s my daughter’s, but she’s no longer around.” He tore the paper into tiny pieces and threw them away. “We’ve gotten rid of her belongings. It’s easier to move on when you aren’t constantly reminded of the past, but I guess we missed a thing or two.”

  “I understand,” I said, and took my leave.

  Returning to my room, I thought about the house. Based on the number of bedrooms, the one I was staying in had probably belonged to Miyuki Katou. After seeing the drawing, I wondered again if she was the little girl in my dreams.

  Three days later, I met Seven Stars at the gazebo while on my jog. She was all by herself, smoking in her school uniform.

  “Skipping class again?” I asked.

  She turned to me. “Why do you ask the obvious?”

  I said nothing and looked at the crushed cigarette butts scattered all over the ground.

  “Are you going to tell me smoking is bad for my health?” she asked.

  “Now you’re asking the obvious,” I said. “It’s a contagious disease, you know—asking the obvious.”

  She clicked her tongue.

  “Do you skip class often to smoke here?”

  I didn’t expect an answer, but she nodded.

  “Why?”

  She took a puff and exhaled slowly. “I don’t see the point of going to school. I don’t fit in. It’s suffocating to be there and I’m tired of pretending.” She turned to me. “Anyway, why am I telling you? It’s none of your concern.”

  “Your father is worried that you don’t get along with your classmates.”

  “What’s wrong with having no friends? People are born alone, and they die alone. You can’t take your friends to the grave,” she said. “Don’t mind my father. He tends to worry about insignificant things, but he doesn’t care about what really matters.”

  “Like what?”

  She didn’t answer.

  I thought about my own father, who didn’t even turn up for my sister’s funeral. This girl had no idea how blessed she was. “You shouldn’t talk like that. He’s your father; it’s natural for him to be worried.”

  “Don’t be patronizing.” She dropped her cigarette and crushed it with her black loafer.

  “There’s a trash bin right over there.”

  “I like to litter,” she said. “Got a problem with that?”

  What a stubborn girl, and ill-mannered, too. I sighed, about to walk away.

  “Are you going home now?” she asked.

  “Yes, I need to get lunch.”

  She jumped down. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “Lunch, of course. Isn’t that what you just said?”

  Her eyes told me she would follow me no matter what.

  “If anyone catches you skipping class, I’m not helping you out,” I said.

  Seven Stars smiled. “We have a deal.”

  “What do you feel like eating?”

  “I want Hokkaido barbequed mutton.”

  “Did you bring enough money for that?”

  “I was joking, don’t be so serious. Let’s have burgers.”

  She walked in front, and I followed a few feet behind. Every now and then, she turned around to make sure I was still there. We passed by a bustling market before arriving at a shopping complex. They had a MOS Burger in the basement.

  Slipping some notes into my hand, Seven Stars said, “Order a fish burger with fries and a Pepsi for me. I’ll get us a table.”

  She walked in before I could protest. When I left the counter with a tray full of food, she waved at me from a table in the far corner. I went over and sat down opposite her.

  “Are you going to cut up my food again?” she asked.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “It’s a burger.”

  She laughed and started eating.

  “Good?” I asked.

  Seven Stars nodded and made a peace sign with her fingers. I almost said she looked cute, but I stopped myself. It was inappropriate to say that to a student. Hell, I shouldn’t be here, eating with her, when she was skipping class.

  “I turned in the career survey yesterday, and followed your suggestions,” she said.

  “Was that good enough for your teacher?”

  “I guess so, since she didn’t say anything.” She took a sip of her drink. “Mr. Ishida, do you miss your sister?”

  I froze. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you have any regrets? Things you wish you had done with her when she was still around.”

  I hadn’t expected such direct questions from anyone, but that was the kind of girl she was. I knew she meant no harm. “Of course I miss her,” I said. “And I do have some regrets. Anyone would feel the same when a person close to them passes away unexpectedly.”

  She tilted her head. “What kind of regrets?”

  “Well, I wish I’d visited her more often. I wish I’d been more honest, told her I cared about her . . .” I paused, realizing I had said too much. “You know, that sort of thing.”

  She looked into my eyes with a wistful smile. “I’m so envious of her.”

  “What nonsense are you talking? There’s nothing to be envious of.” I looked down at my burger. “She’s dead.”

  “When she was alive, she was so loved.”

  I s
tared at my burger, and we ate our lunch in silence. The place was soon filled with the incoming lunch crowd. It should have been too loud, but the hustle and bustle became white noise.

  Or maybe it was this girl. She affected me in an odd way. She carried with her a profound sadness. And whenever we were close, it flew into me.

  “Thanks for lunch,” Seven Stars said, dabbing her lips with the paper napkin.

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “I’ll walk you home.”

  She shook her head. “Bad idea—my father is there. I don’t want him to think you helped me skip class.”

  “That’s surprisingly considerate of you,” I joked.

  I returned the tray and we walked out of the restaurant. Before we parted ways, I told her, “Don’t skip class too often. You don’t want to repeat the year with a bunch of underclassmen.”

  “I know.”

  She waved at me and left. From there, I went to the convenience store to buy a lunch box for Mrs. Katou. When I reached the house, I was surprised to see Mr. Katou in the entry hall. He looked as if he had been waiting for me.

  “May I have a moment?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I said.

  We went to the reading room and sat on the couch. He lowered his shoulders and laced his fingers, deep in thought. The tinkling of the wind chime echoed through the house.

  Mr. Katou cleared his throat before speaking. “I have discussed my wife’s condition with our family, and we believe a change of scenery might be good for her. The plan is to move her to Hakone where she can be looked after by our relatives. Her cousins run a pension there.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” I said, knowing this was a gentle dismissal.

  “When she leaves, I’m moving into a smaller apartment. This house is too big for a man living by himself. And there are too many memories, some of which I’d rather forget.”

  “So you’ll be selling the house?”

  He nodded. “I know this is sudden.”

  “I’ll look for a new place soon. Is there a date I should keep in mind?”

  “If possible, I’d like to have the house ready for takeover by the end of the month. We’ve already found a buyer, but I told them I’d need some time to move out, so don’t let it trouble you.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.”

  “Thank you for your understanding,” he said. “I appreciate what you have done for my wife and me. You’ve been a great help to us.”

  “I should be the one to thank you for letting me stay here.”

  Thinking back, I might have been too hasty to agree to the end of the month. It was presumptuous of me to think it would be easy to find a new place. In addition, I didn’t have a large budget to work with.

  “Cheap, fast, or good. Choose two out of three. You can’t get them all.” That was what my sister used to tell me. The priority was to move out fast. And cheap was a must, too. So based on her theory, the next place I was going to move into wouldn’t be good.

  But not everything was gloomy. The same day, I got my first paycheck. Hiroko personally handed out everyone’s salary. One by one, we were called into the principal’s office, and finally it was my turn.

  “Thank you for your hard work,” she said, handing me an envelope. “How was your first month?”

  “I’ve gotten used to it,” I said.

  “That’s great. In that case, how about joining our permanent staff?”

  Once again, she’d caught me by surprise.

  The edges of her lips curled upward. “I’m just teasing, but the offer is serious. I’ve gotten very positive feedback about your classes. You’ve got what it takes. Please consider it, and let me know if you decide to take the position.”

  “Thank you. I will,” I said, before leaving the office.

  I went to my desk and put the envelope in my bag. As I packed my teaching materials, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “How does it feel, getting your first paycheck?” Honda asked, standing next to me.

  I smiled. “Not bad. I could definitely get used to this.”

  “How are things at the politician’s house?”

  “About that . . .” I thought back to my predicament. “Do you happen to know any real estate agents who could recommend some short-term accommodations?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Has a problem come up there?”

  “No problem at all.” I decided not to talk about the Katou family’s circumstances. “I’d just prefer to live on my own, and the place is too fancy for my liking.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. My cousin is a real estate agent.”

  Honda called his cousin, and by the next day, I had a list of apartments for rent. There were forty-plus options in the listing, but it wasn’t difficult to narrow the field.

  To begin with, I wanted a place that wouldn’t require a long-term contract. That took out half of the options. Second, with my pay, I could only afford five out of twenty. Of the five, two of them were too far from Yotsuba. And so, I was left with three possible choices.

  On Sunday morning, I met Honda and his cousin. Mrs. Itano was short and plump. Her cropped hair was dyed auburn, but I could see the gray roots. She had thick makeup dominated by pink hues. Pink eye shadow, pink blush, and pink lipstick. Wearing a fuchsia skirt suit, she looked like a cartoon character.

  “Trust me, she’s capable,” Honda whispered, seemingly aware of what was on my mind.

  Still in doubt, I bowed to her. “I’m Ren Ishida. Thank you for helping me.”

  She giggled. “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll get the best apartment for you. I’ve been in this business for over forty years.”

  I mustered a smile.

  “I know, it’s hard to tell, isn’t it? But I’m in my sixties. Working keeps me young.” She flashed her porcelain-white teeth, which were probably fake. “Let’s get moving, dear. We have plenty to do.”

  Honda drove us to the first apartment on the list. The building was shabby—in Mrs. Itano’s words, “It looks like the roof is going to fall off at any time.” I wouldn’t mind an old building, but the place didn’t look safe for human occupancy.

  “Don’t worry, dear. The next one should be better.”

  True, since I couldn’t imagine much worse than the first.

  The second apartment was near the train station. Its location was central and the building was new, but it was also next to an open market.

  Mrs. Itano peered out the window. “It’s a little noisy, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Young people like you won’t be home most of the time.”

  “Ishida works late,” Honda said. “Cram school teachers tend to wake up late. The market is going to be noisy in the morning, I don’t think we should settle for this one.”

  Mrs. Itano looked like she disagreed, so I quickly said, “Why don’t we take a look at the third one?”

  Since my budget was far below market rate, I had lowered my expectations. But luckily, the last apartment was perfect for me. Or at least, it was good enough. Quiet and rustic, it was located behind a park.

  “It’s an old building,” Mrs. Itano explained as we climbed the staircase. “There’s no elevator, and the only available rooms are on the fifth floor. But the rent is affordable. You only pay one month’s deposit and the first month’s rent. No key money needed.”

  Honda raised his eyebrows. “No key money? This is the first time I’ve heard of that.”

  “In recent years, some landlords have dropped it to attract more tenants, especially in more remote neighborhoods.”

  She led us to Room 503 and opened the door. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a separate dining and kitchen area. The bedroom had tatami flooring, while the rest of the unit, except the bathroom, had hardwood. The place was fully furnished, and even had kitchen equipment and a washing machine—everything I could possibl
y need.

  Opening the living room windows, I felt the warm sunset on my face. It was breezy, and the apartment looked onto a scenic view of the park. It reminded me of the field where I used to play soccer when I was a child.

  “This place is fine,” I said. “I’ll take it.”

  “Are you sure?” Honda asked. “There’s no train station nearby, and the nearest bus stop is a long walk from here.”

  “I’m fine with that. It’s good exercise.”

  “That settles it, then.” Mrs. Itano clasped her hands. “Where are you staying now, dear? I’ll bring the contract to you tomorrow. Once you’ve signed it and paid the deposit, you can move in within a week.”

  “I’m currently staying in Segayaki.”

  “Ishida is at that politician’s house,” Honda added. “Kosugi Katou.”

  “That’s a beautiful place, dear. Why are you moving out?”

  “Mr. Katou decided to sell the house.”

  Mrs. Itano’s eyes lit up. “He’ll get a good price for that. Has he found a buyer? Or is it still for sale?”

  “I believe the deal has already gone through.”

  “Oh, that’s a pity.” She sighed. “By the way, how’s his wife? I heard she was unwell.”

  “Do you know her?”

  “I’m afraid not, but I helped her older sister to buy a plot of land. She’s a strange woman, I tell you. The land was cursed. Nobody wanted it despite the ridiculously low price, and she was bent on acquiring it. Rich people have such weird taste. Anyway, who am I to complain? Business is business.”

  “What did she use the land for?” Honda asked.

  “She built a hotel there. Remember the one I told you about? The Katsuragi Hotel.”

  17

  The Origin

  of the

  Katsuragi

  Hotel

  (The Kimono

  Lady’s Story)

  The hotel lobby was empty. The Katsuragi Hotel was always rather quiet, but that day, no one was around.

  I went to the counter and called, “Excuse me, is anyone in?”

  “I’m coming,” said a voice from the back office.

  The kimono lady hurried to the front and recognized me at once.