Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  Our attention is brought to the door as the staff all shout “Konbanwa!” to Miko’s mother. She enters the izakaya in a flash of dark red kimono, her short, graying hair perfectly swept back in a beautiful silver comb.

  “Girls,” she says, approaching us. “Otanjōbi omedetō, Sanaa-chan.” She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’ve grown up into such a fine, young woman, Sanaa. Kimie and Lomo must be very proud.”

  “Arigatō gozaimasu, Mrs. Tanaka.” She has always insisted on us calling her and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka, though I’ve tried to call her Tanaka-san on occasion. I think she likes the westernization a little bit more.

  Miko comes out of the kitchen and bows slightly to her mother before they embrace in a small hug. Mrs. Tanaka is much more formal than Miko’s father.

  “Miko-chan, I’m here to relieve you early. The restaurant is not too busy. You should spend the time now with Sanaa and Helena.”

  Helena and I were so absorbed in our conversation we didn’t realize the bar has quieted. This happens every year right before midnight. The majority of people eat and drink up and then head out to spend the last hour before the New Year at a temple or private party.

  In long-standing tradition, Miko, Helena, and I will stay here till around 12:30 and then visit the little neighborhood shrine two blocks over before Helena and I head home for the night. Miko will stay behind and help with any stragglers until they close up at 3:00.

  Instead of moving to a booth from the bar, we snag the last open private room, and Miko invites in the young guys who were at the bar to come sit with us. A few more girls show up from the shops down the street, and they join us too. But I park myself next to Helena, nod, smile, and do my best to make small talk because I am definitely not interested in any of these guys. I am daydreaming and wondering where Jiro and the other men went to after they left the izakaya.

  Helena catches sight of the clock on the wall, and one of the guys reachesinto his bag, pulls out his tablet, and tunes to the Nishikyō News Service. They are already streaming the midnight countdown from Ku 1. A huge crowd of people mill about the Administrative Ward’s central plaza, decked out in every possible kind of party clothes, but mostly kimono since Nishikyō is seventy percent Japanese.

  Only three minutes left in the year 3102. I’ve decided I’ve been prosperous enough. This year I will wish for love, and I’ll make sure that I don’t look at any of these guys when I do because, oh gods, not in a million years. I’m not kissing any of them when the clock strikes 12:00. No, thank you.

  One minute left and Miko is filling up cups around the table. Helena is tucking wayward strands of hair back into her twist. I am replaying those ten seconds of eye contact with the mysterious Jiro in my head again. Obsessing. I’m already obsessing over it.

  Twenty seconds left in 3102. I’ll be twenty years old. I can move out and get my own place soon, and in two years, I’ll be on a ship and hibernating for the long voyage to Yūsei.

  Five seconds left. Four, three, two, one.

  “Happy New Year! Akemashite omedetō!” We all clink glasses and drink. Miko, Helena, and I get involved in a three-way group hug that makes us laugh and laugh. I’m glad I didn’t have to make eye contact with any of the guys at the table because I love these two the most.

  “Wishes,” Miko whispers at each of us.

  We close our eyes, bow forward a little, and clap our hands in front of our face twice in a prayer position.

  Please, gods, bring me love and happiness this year. Bring us all love, excitement, and happiness this year. Surely, we deserve it.

  Chapter

  Two

  After we’ve gulped down our sake and eaten a little more rice, Helena, Miko, and I grab our purses and head out to the street. It’s around 12:15am, and people are milling about either heading home or to another party.

  In the old days before the last of humanity were all confined to the domes of Nishikyō, everyone would stay up until dawn and then drive to the nearest coast or outlook to watch the first sunrise of the year, but that tradition is long gone now. The lamps will come up like they do every morning mimicking the sunrise of where we all live now, an area in North America in what used to be called Canada. At this time of year, daybreak won’t be until around 8:00am.

  “I thought it was supposed to be cooler tonight,” Helena says taking out her fan and creating her own personal breeze.

  “Me, too. The forecast was a low of 7ºC tonight, and NishikyōDome Control were going to turn on the fans after midnight.” It doesn’t feel any cooler, though. Only about the same 21ºC Nishikyō always is in winter.

  “Come on, girls. Let’s hustle to the shrine and get our omikuji. My father wants me to get back to the izakaya quick so the cute boy can come back and woo me.” She lets out a laugh that borders on evil. This Yoichi has his work cut out for him.

  I’m so tired. After all the talking, eating, and drinking, I’m about an hour from falling asleep. I’m used to long days at work and early bedtimes. My routine is boring sometimes, but it’s the way my life is right now. I guess I won’t be seeing the younger brother, Jiro.

  This neighborhood shrine, nestled in between two omiyage shops, is such a sweet little spot. I’ve often seen the owners of the shops sweeping the front steps or placing rice in cups inside as offerings. I think this space actually used to be an alley, but a long time ago, the neighborhood got together and built the shrine. The floors, walls, and vaulted roof are all dark, composite wood, and a small tatami mat lies in front of the prayer area near the back. The doors are swung open, and, inside, a few people are getting their omikuji from the machine to the right of the door.

  An old woman kneeling on the tatami claps and bows, making her New Year’s wish before the images of the Shinto gods, the gods and spirits of nature we pray to and ask for guidance. Most of Earth may be dead but we still believe our gods are with us.

  This place can only hold about ten people at a time, but over the next few hours, everyone who works or lives in the neighborhood will have stopped by, made their wishes and offerings, and received their omikuji. The wires set up right outside the shrine will be covered in little paper knots by the end of the week.

  Miko, Helena, and I line up in front of the gods after the old lady has moved on and make our wishes again. I’m going to keep making the same wish when I visit the temple with Aunt Kimie and Lomo later on today. I would wish for love, happiness, and excitement a hundred million times if it will come true.

  Miko is the first to finish and turn. “Oh, hello,” she says. In the doorway are Yoichi, Jiro, and the man with the ponytail from earlier. My heart jumps. A lucky break!

  “Your father said you might be here,” the man says. I wonder who he is. He’s not their father because they both resemble the other man who was with them earlier. He is watching me, though. Curious. I thought they were all here for Miko.

  “Akemashite omedetō,” Miko says, and we all repeat after her, bowing at each other. “You’re just in time. We were about to get our omikuji.”

  I smile at Miko’s charming hospitality, but I direct myself at Jiro. Oh yes, the wish is already working because he’s smiling back. I clasp my hands in front of me so they don’t shake, but I refuse to break eye contact. I’ve never been shy, and I don’t intend to start now when I’m sure I can make my wish come true if I try hard enough.

  “We haven’t all been properly introduced,” the man says,cracking the smallest of smiles at us. He seems very stern. “I am Mark Sakai. This is Yoichi Itōand Jiro Itō.” They each nod to us, Jiro never looking away. The New Year’s Eve magic is working.

  Miko clears her throat. Could she actually be a little nervous? That’s not like her at all. “I’m Miko Tanaka, and these are my friends, Helena Tambor and Sanaa Griffin.”

  Now he knows my name.

  Mark Sakai looks at Jiro and me watching each other, and I detect the smallest of sighs from him. Maybe he didn’t intend on chaperoning kids l
ooking for love tonight.

  “Have you made your wishes yet?” I ask before the awkward silence swallows us all whole.

  “No,” Jiro says. “We just came from the okiya to the izakaya to here.”

  “Well, you should now before the shrine gets crowded.” I move off to the side pulling Helena with me. I don’t want to break this contact I’m having with Jiro, but I want to be polite. First impressions are everything. “We’ll get our omikuji and meet you outside.”

  I turn before the blush on my neck creeps up to my face. Helena, Miko, and I extract our omikuji wish papers from the machine, and, without reading mine, I walk out of the temple and back to the sidewalk. They came from an okiya? I don’t know anyone who regularly goes to any of the okiya-ochaya in the city. Parties at an okiya are too expensive for most of us. On a night like New Year’s Eve, a geisha party must be triple the price.

  “Ah, damn. I got a curse again this year.” Without commenting on what the wish paper says, Helena takes her omikuji, folds and ties it to the wire next to the others. “When am I going to get good news on New Year’s Eve?” She sighs, moving to the side to peer into the window of the omiyage shop as Sakai, Yoichi, and Jiro exit the shrine with their omikuji papers. Sakai glances at his, folds and ties it to the wire without a word. He takes a step back and blends into the background.

  Yoichi steps up to Miko who has separated herself from us a bit, no doubt to flirt with Yoichi in private. They are both reading their papers and smiling and laughing.

  Jiro takes his paper in two fingers and holds it up to me. “What do you think it says? A blessing or a curse?”

  I close my eyes and think. “It’s a blessing. I’m sure of it.”

  “What about yours?” He nods his head at the paper in my hand that I haven’t looked at yet.

  I open it up and smile. “It’s a blessing! I haven’t had one in years. Just a small one. Tenkyo.” A blessing for moving residence. Could it be for Yūsei or for getting my own place? Either way, the wish is almost prophetic.

  He opens his and smiles. “You were right. A blessing, too. Looks like I’m getting lucky this year.” He turns the paper to me. Renai: a blessing in romantic relationships. Damn, I should have gotten that one, but this might be a sign.

  Folding the paper into quarters, he slips it into his kimono.

  “Jiro, we have one more stop before the night is through,” Sakai says behind us. He is watching us, and I get the feeling that he is interrupting on purpose.

  With a low hum, a soft, cool breeze picks up down the street, and we each let out an audible sigh. I close my eyes and breathe in the sweet, dry wind of winter in the desert.

  “Ah, ii desu ne.” Jiro takes a deep breath as well. It is nice.

  When I open my eyes, I see he closed his, too, and his face is peaceful. The fresh air makes everything new again.

  “I love winter,” I respond, ending a perfect moment.

  Jiro opens his eyes and tucks his hair back behind his ears. My stomach is full of fluttery lightness, and I don’t want him to go. Sakai’s stern face says these plans are set in stone, though.

  “Sanaa, have a happy new year.” He steps back from me towards Sakai.

  “Thank you. You as well.” I manage to smile one more time before he walks off with Sakai. He is not the only to turn and look at me as they go, though. Sakai also glances over his shoulder before they’re around the corner and out of sight.

  This was a great way to start my new year even if I never see him again. A night with my best friends and a chance encounter was what I needed to start this year off right. I back up to the sidewalk and grab Helena’s arm. Yoichi and Miko are deep in conversation.

  “Maybe we should leave these two alone?” I ask. Helena and I can walk to the train together even though we’ll travel in different directions from there.

  Miko turns and makes eye contact, smiling and nodding. Yes, she is fine where she is.

  “Oyasumi, Miko! We’ll talk tomorrow.” Helena calls as we turn to go.

  “Oyasumi-nasai!” We all chime. The evening is over. The new year has begun.

  * * * *

  My aunts let me sleep in on New Year’s Day but when I’m still in bed at 11:00, Aunt Lomo comes in and shakes my shoulder until I’m awake.

  “Happy Birthday! I’ve made you coffee. Time to get up and start the new year.”

  Doesn’t she know I already started it last night? I peel myself from the bed slowly, take a shower and get dressed, then join them in the kitchen for Japanese breakfast: rice, seaweed, soy fish, and miso soup. And coffee. I’m the only one who drinks it.

  “How was your night, Sanaa-chan? Did you have a good time?” Aunt Kimie blows on her mug of tea and, after a sip, stacks her plates on top of Aunt Lomo’s. She’s already dressed in her dark blue kimono for the day. Aunt Kimie was my mother’s younger sister, and I hear from Aunt Lomo that they were very similar growing up. Aunt Kimie is small like me, and she always wears her hair up in a bun, though she doesn’t have a strand of gray to be seen. I hope I’m so lucky when I get older. She’s my gossip companion. I share all my secrets with her, and I think she’s hoping for some details from last night.

  “I had a fantastic time. We went to the shrine down the street afterward, and I finally got an omikuji blessing.”

  “Ii desu ne! You haven’t had one in years.”

  “And then I came home. It was a typical New Year’s Eve. Miko met a handsome boy, though. They were still talking when we left.”

  Aunt Kimie and Lomo smile at each other. They are both aware of Miko’s dating practices.

  “He had a younger brother I talked to for a moment but then he was on his way. Oh well.” I take a sip of coffee and start to eat breakfast. “Anyway, we should get dressed and go to temple before the crowds get too big, ne?”

  Aunt Lomo stands and puts her dishes in the auto-washer. “I’m almost ready, but I need help with my kimono.”

  Aunt Lomo is so similar in build to Aunt Kimie and me, but she’s the tallest of us. She wears her hair down to her shoulders with a little flip out, and twists it in her fingers when she’s thinking. I’ve caught myself doing the same thing many times.

  She grabs her hair pins off the table and heads to the bedroom with Aunt Kimie on her heels. These two are perfectly content with each other, and they’ve been married now for twenty years. I’m glad my parents chose them to be my caregivers before they died. My other side of the family won’t even talk to me anymore. Aunt Sharon cut off communication years ago.

  I could probably sit here and stare at my breakfast for hours while thinking about my family, but I know the temple will be crowded today, and we should get going. It’s hard to believe another year has gone by without my mother and father. I wonder what they’d think of me now. Would they be proud? They’ve been gone so long, but I still miss them.

  Aunt Lomo comes from the bedroom all dressed. “Your turn, Sanaa-chan. Eat up so we can go.” I hurriedly put on a happy face. I don’t want Aunt Lomo to worry.

  When we get to the temple back in our old Ku 5 ward, the stone covered courtyard is packed wall-to-wall. We wait our turn with everyone else, make our wishes, and Aunt Kimie and Lomo both receive omikuji. I decide not to because I’m happy with the small blessing I got last night and don’t want to ruin it. The whole trip takes a few hours. The trains are slow and packed, the streets filled with people, and, just for fun, we decide to walk down to our old neighborhood and visit the places we used to spend time in.

  I’m glad the old karate dōjō where I first met Miko and Helena is still going strong. Even though it’s New Year’s Day, the senseishave opened the place up and turned on all the lights so people can meet and hang out. I always loved this dōjō. It was a bright and happy spot in my otherwise sad childhood.

  When we finally arrive back in Ku 9, we pick up our mochi from the local restaurant and head home to eat our New Year’s Day dinner together. Aunt Lomo prepares roasted sweet potatoes with s
eaweed and sesame, yasai gyoza, rice, mochi, and pulls out a bottle of white wine she must have picked up somewhere in Ku 4. That’s the only place I’ve ever seen wine shops. I have a little taste; I’m much more partial to sake. To top off the meal, Aunt Kimie produces three oranges. I haven’t had fresh fruit in weeks! We each sit and eat them in silence, savoring every bite.

  I’m ready to call an end to the day early once dinner is over even though it’s my birthday. Work starts again tomorrow, and I know things will be busy with everyone back in the office from the holiday. But I still have two last New Year’s Day traditions to complete.

  In my room, I slip out of my kimono into some loose pajamas and then pull my tablet from my bag. Without looking at any of my messages, I sit down at my small desk and go straight to the folder that contains all of my parents’ photos. One by one, I flip through and look at them. I’ve seen these photos a million times before, but they still make me cry. One of my mother holding me in the maternity ward in Ku 2. My father laughing at a party. My parents with Aunt Kimie and Lomo. There are even a few of my mother with her father. He died not long after she did. I barely knew him.

  I keep this New Year’s tradition to myself and let the tears come silently, wiping them away with my hands and ignoring the handkerchief. Aunt Kimie doesn’t like to talk about my mother, her father, or any of the time she grew up in Ku 6. Though she loved my mother, she was devastated when she died, especially since her father disowned her when she married Aunt Lomo. I’m still not sure why. I think my grandfather wanted more grandchildren, but he only got me, the half-Japanese.

  I give myself another minute of tears before taking a deep breath. I’m not really a wallower. I like to deal with things and move on. But I allow myself these photos once per year because I’m always afraid I’m going to forget what they look like. Then I see the photos again, close my eyes, and there they are.