Coming over, I tapped his shoulder gently. “Would you like a beer? I bought a pack.”
He looked surprised at first, but then he gave me a polite smile. “I don’t drink alcohol—my tolerance is too low. But thanks for offering.”
I stood next to him. “Can’t sleep?”
“I don’t usually sleep at night.”
I took another sip of my beer, looking idly at the scenery. They ought to put on more lights in the park. The place was so dark. Then again, hardly anyone went there at this time. I counted two joggers and a man walking his dog.
“Pretty, isn’t it? The moon in autumn,” the zori man said.
“Yes.” I turned to face him. “It feels peaceful.”
He nodded in agreement. After a few moments, he said, “I’ve been curious. What kind of work do you do? I often see you return late at night.”
“I’m a cram school teacher. I only leave the school after nine-thirty.”
“I see,” he murmured. “What do you teach?”
“English.”
“Is it fun?”
“I have no complaints. It pays the rent,” I said. “How about you? I’ve heard you’re a songwriter.”
He laughed. “What makes you think I could be a songwriter with my condition?”
My cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Sorry, that was inconsiderate. I didn’t think much about it; it was just something another resident told me.”
“It’s close enough, actually,” he said. “I write poems.”
“You’re a poet?”
He nodded. “Not a famous one, though.”
“What are your poems about?”
“Anything that piques my interest, even this apartment.” He grinned. “Maybe that’s why I’m not famous.”
“You mean, not famous yet.”
He laughed again. “That’s a good one.”
“So you work from home,” I said.
“Yes. Easier for me, isn’t it?” He tilted his head. “I don’t resent my condition. I’ve been deaf for so long that I’ve grown accustomed to it. It feels natural, like everyone was born deaf. Some people outgrow it, while others don’t. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
I didn’t, but I couldn’t bring myself to say so. “Were you born deaf?” I asked.
“No, I wasn’t,” he said. “It’s a long story; I doubt you want to hear it.”
“I have the time. You can tell me, if you want.”
He tapped his fingers on the railing before talking. “When I was in primary school, my teacher realized I had bad hearing and advised my parents to take me for a checkup. We went to see an ENT, who diagnosed me with failing hearing. Eventually I would lose it altogether, though he couldn’t identify the exact cause. We could choose to do therapy, but it would be painful and only slow the process, not stop it.”
“Did you do it?”
“I did, for a while. Then I told my parents there was no point in suffering since I would eventually be deaf anyway. The procedure was costly, too. They were upset, but they saw the logic so we stopped the therapy. As expected, my condition deteriorated rapidly. One day, I woke up and realized I couldn’t hear anything. Just like that, my hearing was gone.” He stopped to catch his breath. It looked like he wasn’t used to talking so much.
I waited a while before asking. “What does it feel like to lose your hearing?”
“Not as scary as I imagined,” he said. “Most of the noises around us are unnecessary. My ears block that noise, but in the process, they also shut out everything else. The main problem is, it’s harder to socialize. I learned lip-reading, but it’s not easy when people talk too fast, or several of them talk at the same time. I feel embarrassed asking people to repeat what they’re saying. And if they purposely talk slowly, I feel bad for making them put in the extra effort. Other than that, I guess I’m doing fine.”
I downed the rest of my beer.
“You’re not from this town, are you?” the zori man asked. “Did you move here for work?”
“I came to settle some personal affairs, but since I knew I was going to be here a while, I got a job to cover my expenses.”
“Do you like teaching?”
“I guess so.” I crushed the empty can. “Like I said, I have no complaints.”
“Is this your first job?”
“Yes. First full-time job, anyway.”
“This is my first job, too.”
I yawned involuntarily. Despite my insomnia an hour ago, now I felt sleepy.
“I’m sorry, I must have bored you with my talk,” the zori man said. “You should get some sleep.”
“It’s not you. Cold weather and beer make me sleepy. But you’re right. I do need to go to bed soon, since I’m working tomorrow.”
“I need to finish some work, too. Thanks for keeping me company.”
“It’s my pleasure. Let’s hang out again sometime.”
He nodded before going into his apartment. I should have asked him why he always wore those zori, but I didn’t want to pry.
After he left, I stayed out there for a while. The sky was vast and black, devoid of moon or stars. I thought it looked so lonely up there.
In my dream, I sat on a bench in front of a lake with Pigtails. The dark water sparkled, reflecting the moonlight. The wind blew and rustled the leaves.
I looked at the half-moon. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
She was quiet.
“Can you see the moon?” I asked.
The girl nodded twice. “Someone cut the moon into two and took half of it. See?” she said.
I smiled, not bothering to correct her.
“Finally, I can talk to you,” she said. “There were too many noises before, but now, some of them have been blocked, so you can hear me clearly. Makes things much easier, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Can you finally tell me who you are?”
Pigtails shook her head. “I can’t. You have to work it out yourself.”
“Why?”
She smiled. “Once you figure out who I am, everything will become clear.”
“So my mission is to figure out your identity?”
“Correct.”
“Why me? What has this got to do with me?”
She shook her head again. “Sorry, I can’t say.”
“Can I guess?” I didn’t wait for her to answer. “Are you Miyuki Katou? Or—”
“The fact that you’re asking me this means you haven’t figured it out yet. When you find the answer, you’ll know.”
“How am I supposed to recognize it when I see it?”
“Think. Think properly. And look around you. Look harder.” When Pigtails spoke, she sounded older than she looked. “Once you pinpoint the key, everything will become clear.”
That again. I sighed.
“It’s actually simple, and you’re very close,” she said.
“What will happen after that?”
She looked at the moon. After a while, she answered, “I’ll disappear.”
24
A
Lazy
Sunday
Morning
I woke up early, but lazed around in bed since it was Sunday and I didn’t feel like going for a jog. I finally got up around ten, and when I opened the curtains, the sunshine flooded in, blinding me. I squinted until my eyes adjusted to the brightness. At least the weather was good. It didn’t look like it was going to rain.
I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, and shaved. Thrusting my wallet and keys into my pockets, I left the apartment. It was my sister who’d originally gotten me into the habit of going out of the house every single day, without fail.
“If you stay at home doing nothing, that’s as good as wasting a day of your life,” she would say in the morning. “Imagine today
is your last day on earth. Won’t you regret not doing anything?”
I would pull the blanket higher. “Get lost.”
“Don’t be stubborn,” she would say, trying to grab the blanket away.
We ended up fighting over it, but somehow, she always won. I used to think she was such a bother sometimes, but now I wished I could return to those days.
I stopped at the magazine vendor and bought the local newspaper. While waiting for the bus, I flipped through the pages and scanned the headlines. The town had constructed a new bicycle path, and an actress who I’d never heard of had graced the grand opening of a new shopping mall. The advertorial sections covered some local businesses. Nothing significant.
Closing the paper, I checked my watch. It was eleven. Since I’d skipped breakfast, I was starving. As I debated between going to the convenience store for a snack first and continuing to wait at the bus stop, my bus arrived, rendering the decision irrelevant. I boarded and sat in the last row. The vehicle passed through the park, an empty field, and a residential area before stopping at the train station.
While taking the train to the center of town, I ran through a checklist in my head. Did I need to buy anything? Shampoo, shower gel, toothpaste or toilet paper? How about beer and coffee? No, I’d stocked up on everything. I could just go for a quick lunch and visit the bookshop for a few paperbacks.
Exiting the train station, I walked to the McDonald’s across the street. After ordering a teriyaki burger and a coffee, I went to a table in the corner of the restaurant. This had to be Seven Stars’ influence.
Seven Stars. Why was I thinking about her?
I opened the coffee lid to let the beverage cool down. They always served coffee boiling hot in fast-food joints. Why couldn’t it be the right temperature?
“May I join you?”
Startled, I looked up and saw Seven Stars in front of me with a tray. Before I could answer, she plopped down opposite me. She had a Croquette Burger and a cup of Coke.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“The same thing as everyone else,” she said. “Having lunch, of course. What’s the matter? You don’t want me to sit here, Mr. Ishida?”
“I didn’t say that. Are you by yourself?”
“How could I be by myself? You’re here with me, aren’t you?”
I said nothing and ate my burger. Teriyaki sauce oozed out and dripped onto my hand. Seven Stars took a paper napkin and wiped the sauce off.
“Are you clumsy, Mr. Ishida? Or are you that hungry?”
“I’m starving.” I took the paper napkin from her hand, embarrassed. “I didn’t have breakfast.”
“It’s almost lunchtime. You can skip a meal and save some money.”
“Guess so,” I said. “This is the second time I’ve seen you eating a burger. Do you like burgers that much?”
“I like most foods that are soft and warm.” She opened her burger and used her open ketchup packet to draw a smiley face on the croquette.
“Seems like you’re having fun,” I said.
“I am having fun,” she said. “What about you, Mr. Ishida? What’s your favorite food?”
“Curry rice,” I answered without thinking.
“But they serve that everywhere.”
“Perhaps. It’s a long story, but it’s not just about the food.”
“Let me guess, your girlfriend used to make it?”
“Not my girlfriend,” I said. “My sister.”
I thought she would ask more questions, as usual, but this time she said nothing. I guessed bringing up a dead person had ruined the atmosphere.
“My parents were seldom around,” I said, trying to ease the tension. “When I was young, my sister and I used to eat convenience store box lunches every day. It got boring after a while, so she started to cook for me. The first dish she ever made was curry rice.”
“I didn’t mean to bring her up and upset you,” Seven Stars said. “Now I feel bad for asking.”
“I’m not upset, so there’s no need to feel bad. My sister was a big part of my life. She’s someone who was—and still is—dear to me.” I bit my lip, realizing I sounded overly sentimental. Why had I told her that?
Seven Stars was quiet. She looked calm, almost sweet. If she didn’t talk, most people wouldn’t guess she was so feisty.
“You think I look better when I shut my mouth,” she said, reading my thoughts.
I laughed. “I didn’t say that.”
“I hear it all the time.” She shook her cup, making the ice cubes clink against each other. “Young lady, you need to change your attitude.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t say that. It’s one of your charming points.”
She said nothing, but when I glanced at her, a slight smile graced her face. We ate our food in silence. The restaurant was empty. Not many people went to McDonald’s for an early lunch on Sunday.
“Mr. Ishida, you really do have a sister complex, don’t you?”
I was taken aback by her bluntness.
“You don’t even bother denying it,” she continued. “How boring.”
I took a sip of my coffee. It still burned my tongue, even though I’d left it to cool for so long. I looked at Seven Stars, but her gaze was elsewhere.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “Maybe I do have a sister complex. At one time, she was the only person I had.”
Still looking away, she asked, “And your sister? Did she have a brother complex too?”
I shrugged. “Probably. She was always overprotective.”
“But you still managed to have eight girlfriends.”
“She didn’t know about most of them. The ones she knew of, she didn’t like. But to be fair, none of them liked her, either,” I said. “It’s kind of weird, since they’d never even met.”
“Really.” She clicked her tongue, as if to say she wasn’t surprised.
“Except for my current girlfriend,” I added. “My sister was very enthusiastic about her.”
“What did your girlfriend do to melt her heart?”
I hesitated. “She stopped me from taking sleeping pills. I used to have insomnia, and I guess I took more than I needed a number of times.”
Seven Stars looked surprised, but offered no opinion. “What did she do to stop you, Mr. Ishida?”
“She simply told me to stop harming myself. To be honest, I was surprised I listened to her. Well, I guess she was sincere. She cared about me, and I felt it.”
Once the words were out, I regretted them. Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut around her? This was unprofessional. I shouldn’t be sharing details of my personal life with a student.
“Mr. Ishida, let’s take some sleeping pills together,” Seven Stars said.
I frowned. “Are you crazy? Why?”
“Because your girlfriend would be upset, and maybe you two would break up.”
“And what good would that do you?”
“Both of us would be single.”
“There are enough single people in Japan to form a colony. There’s no need to involve me.”
She burst into laughter. “You’re so dense, do you know that? But never mind, I guess it’s one of your . . . What was the term you used just now? Charming points? Yes, that’s it. One of your charming points.”
This girl was so frustrating.
“What about you, Mr. Ishida? Did you like any of your sister’s boyfriends?”
“She never had a boyfriend,” I said.
Seven Stars broke into a mocking smile. “You don’t know women at all, do you? I’m sure she had one. She just didn’t want you to know.”
“Possibly, but why would she hide that? She wasn’t a child. And it wasn’t like I was against her dating.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe she thought you wouldn’t appro
ve of the relationship.”
“I doubt that was the case. I’m a reasonable person. I didn’t have extraordinary expectations about what kind of guy she should be with. As long as they loved each other, that would’ve been good enough.”
“Some kinds of guys you would never want as your brother-in-law, no matter how easygoing you are,” Seven Stars said. “Like a married man with kids, or one with a contagious terminal illness, or . . . I don’t know, maybe she was into women and didn’t want you to find out.”
I shook my head. “You have a wild imagination, young lady.”
“I know, I’ve been told. But at least I make you laugh. That’s generous of me, isn’t it? Accompanying you to lunch, and on top of that, entertaining you.”
“Yes, yes. Thank you.”
She smiled. “Where are you going after this?”
“Maybe the bookstore.”
“May I accompany you?”
“To the bookstore?”
She rolled her eyes. “Where else?”
“I don’t mind, but won’t you be bored?”
“I won’t,” she said, before adding, “I love books, you know.”
I knew that was an afterthought.
She pretended to be angry. “Hey, what’s that look? Why wouldn’t you believe me?”
“I do believe you,” I teased her. “You love books.”
“I’m done,” she said, pulling a paper napkin from the dispenser.
I stared at her fingers as she dabbed her soft, pink lips.
Her eyes widened. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Don’t be conceited.”
I finished my coffee and returned both of our trays. We left the restaurant and headed to a bookshop near the train station. Seven Stars went past me and walked backward.
“Mr. Ishida, what are you going to buy?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Any book that catches my interest.” I took her by the shoulders and turned her around. “Don’t walk like that. You’re going to run into a pole.”
She looked at me over her shoulder. “What kind of books do you like?”
“Good ones.” I sighed. “Can you please look where you’re going when you’re walking?”
Rainbirds Page 18
