by Diana Jean
“Must be a good program. But you should try to get someone you can practice with. It will help even more.”
“Where would I find someone like that?” Kathleen didn’t mention that she technically already had someone to speak Japanese with.
Yuriko turned down an aisle, found a bottle of something—Kathleen guessed it was the mirin—and put it in Kathleen’s basket. “Well, any Japanese friend will do, if you just ask them.”
Kathleen bit her lip. She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t have any Japanese friends. She had friends, of course. They just lived about 10,000 km away and were definitely not fluent in Japanese. But it just sounded too sad to say that she had no friends in the country she had been living in for three months.
Yuriko was silent for a moment, and then she turned around. “What kind of vegetables do you like?”
“What?”
Yuriko was already walking toward the produce area. “Anything you don’t particularly like?”
“Uh, I guess I’m not that picky. I just don’t recognize some of these … ”
Yuriko reached for something that was probably cabbage, and dropped it into Kathleen’s basket. Then she grabbed for some sprouts and mushrooms and Kathleen just found herself trailing along, not even bothering to question what was being put there. She was pretty sure one of the packages was tofu.
“You can also hire a tutor,” Yuriko said. “I know a couple friends who will practice with you for 2000 yen per hour. If you find a uni student, they usually practice for free, if you practice English with them.”
“Really?”
Yuriko shrugged. “Nothing fancy. But it’s best to have a little more human interaction than just a computer program.” She walked on, turning down an aisle full of rice and pasta.
Thinking of Ai, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Do you like giving people nicknames?”
“Nicknames?” Yuriko crouched down.
“Yeah, like, is it common? Here in Japan, I mean.”
Yuriko hesitated. “Oh, I think I understand. It’s just because Japanese people like to be polite, so we usually refer to each other’s last names and use honorifics. But when we want to be friendly and casual, we drop that for first names. Sometimes close friends like to shorten to nicknames, just to be even more casual.”
“Is it strange that I call you Yuriko then?”
Yuriko raised an eyebrow, picking up some rice for Kathleen. “It probably sounds a little casual to a stranger. But when I lived in America, everyone called me by my first name. So I don’t mind.”
“Do you have a Japanese nickname?”
Yuriko flipped back her ponytail. “Yuri-chan could be used.”
“Does anyone call you Yuri-chan?”
Yuriko gave her a strange look and Kathleen realized it was a rather strange, if not invasive question. Yuriko, however, shrugged it off. “No one at the moment.”
The answer comforted Kathleen a little. Maybe Ai and Yuriko were different after all. Ai obviously loved the whole nickname thing and Yuriko seemed only ambivalent. Of course, it was ridiculous to think that a computer simulation could be a copy of a human being. Thinking about it like that, them looking similar wasn’t a big deal. Ai obviously wasn't Yuriko.
Kathleen felt herself breathe a little easier.
“Do you want me to call you Yuri-chan?”
Yuriko made a strange face. “That would be a little … inappropriate, I think. Yuriko is fine.”
Kathleen looked down at her basket, if only to take a moment and not say anything stupid. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t had a real friend since moving to Japan that was making her so nervous and idiotic sounding. Not that she was quite sure Yuriko was a friend. Coworker? Neighbor? Person she kept running into randomly?
She noticed Yuriko plucking some fruits from a display and putting them into her basket. “Do I need these?”
“Momo. Ah, peach. They are in season.” Yuriko made an odd motion. “I’ve gotten the impression that you haven’t tried much fresh Japanese food since you’ve moved in.”
Kathleen flushed. “Is it that obvious?”
Yuriko stared at her. “You looked near a meltdown earlier. I’m pretty sure you’ve never been in here before. Let me guess, konbini?”
Kathleen didn’t want to dwell on the fact that she was near meltdown in the middle of a stupid supermarket. She had already enough emotional trauma the past forty-eight hours. “Konbini?”
“The convenience mart? You’ve always shopped there, right?”
Kathleen shifted the weight of her basket. “I guess I just got used to it.”
Yuriko reached out, pulling Kathleen’s basket toward the registers. “It works well enough for a late evening or after a stressful day. But it’s not healthy to live on prepackaged food. Plus, it’s expensive. Put your basket here. Since you didn’t bring any bags, you are going to have to pay extra for them.”
In any other situation, Kathleen would have found Yuriko to be a little bossy. But, right now, Kathleen couldn’t help but be grateful as Yuriko easily helped her through the checkout process. In retrospect, it wasn’t any more difficult than a grocery store in America. But it was nice to not have to panic about a language barrier for once.
Leaving the store, Kathleen half wondered if the next time she needed to shop, she could just ask Yuriko to help her again. But that would probably be a little presumptuous.
Without prompting, Yuriko immediately led the way back to the company housing. “Do you need me to tell you how to prepare the food as well?”
Kathleen flushed, but Yuriko was giving her a small grin. She sighed. “I’m not totally hopeless.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Hey! You’ve just caught me at some very weak moments! Most of the time I am a strong individual!”
“Yes, of course. Fine director for Mashida’s premier PLC project by day.” Yuriko’s smile widened. “Hopeless foreigner by night.”
That was another difference between her and Ai. Ai’s smile had never felt so contagious. As much as Kathleen felt embarrassed by the teasing, she couldn’t help but give a small smile back. “Hey, I’ve been pretty busy ever since I’ve moved here. I haven’t had time to brush up on cultural norms.”
“Well, that will soon change, won’t it? The beta will be up in a few weeks and you’ll get a break. For a while, anyway.”
"Will your department get a break too?
She sighed. “The more PLCs that are released, the more chaotic my job will become.”
“Do you oversee every PLC that is released?” Kathleen couldn’t help but ask.
“No, but members of my team do. I’m mostly called in if there is a problem. Which, given the high production that Mashida is planning, I’m sure plenty of problems will come up.”
Kathleen nodded. Yuriko probably had no idea what Ai looked like. She had probably had only gotten some memo or email that a custom PLC was even made. And since Ai hadn't any mechanical errors, she would never have to know of Ai's existence.
“I don’t know if the beta will make things any easier,” Kathleen said. “My team will have to probably make a lot of changes to the code once the results are back. Then, even if everything goes well, my boss will probably want us to get started right away on the next lineup.”
Kathleen felt her arms sagging. After this trial with Ai was over, she would be thrown back into the office. She had paid vacation time, she knew, but when could she hope to take it?
Yuriko nudged her shoulder, making Kathleen stumble a little. “Hey, if you need to share a beer again, I’m usually pretty willing.”
They were at the apartment now, panting up the stairs to their floor. “Thanks. Good to know I have someone to help support my burgeoning alcoholism.”
“If you are paying, of course I will support you.”
Kathleen smiled, hesitating at her apartment door. She kind of wished she could invite Yuriko inside so they could keep talking. But that might be
a little too presumptuous. Plus, with Ai waiting just, Kathleen would never risk it. “Ah, um, guess I’ll just … ” She bit her lip and attempted a bow without becoming unbalanced by her groceries. “Dōmo arigatō gozaimasu.”
Kathleen wasn’t altogether sure she got the words right, considering she had learned them only a few hours earlier. But when she looked up, Yuriko was grinning widely down at her.
“Dō itashimashite. Ki wo tsukete kudasai.”
Kathleen nodded, a little unsure of what she said. But Yuriko just turned around and unlocked her door. So Kathleen opened her own door.
“Okairi!” Ai chimed, practically hovering next to the door.
Kathleen quickly closed the door behind her, hoping that Yuriko hadn’t heard the greeting. “Why are you over here?”
Ai reached over to grab her bags of food. She smiled up at Kathleen. “Looks like you had some help!”
Kathleen pushed past her. “Just a neighbor made a few suggestions.” She paused, stepping into her living room. She turned to Ai. “How did you know?”
Ai set the food down, fishing out the peaches from on top. “Intuition.”
“You don’t have intuition. You have programming.”
“Perhaps, but it’s your programming.”
chapter EIGHT
Yuriko hadn’t realized she was attracted to women until she graduated from college. Before then, she had never been attracted to anyone. Between moving between American and Japan, her parents’ marriage falling apart, learning new school systems, getting into college, and trying to get a job, she never thought about romance or dating.
But then she met Michiko. She interned at Mashida with Yuriko. She was wildly talented, but had a habit of being a little scatterbrained. Michiko was a small woman, with cute short hair and a wide smile. She might seem a bit daft, forgetting her wrist phone at home or laughing just a bit too loudly at dumb jokes.
Despite the growing numbers of women in the workplace, certain jobs, like in Mashida’s Engineering department, were still dominated by men. When Michiko walked onto the floor, she was surrounded by guys trying to impress her. And Michiko, in her naiveté, would let them flock to her.
Quickly, Yuriko decided that she would step in as a protector. She was taller than most of the men, after all, and she was not afraid to hurt their feelings. She hadn’t done it to win over Michiko herself, she had only wanted to help. But things just seemed to fall easily into place, at that time.
“Ne, Yuri-chan,” Michiko had said, turning to her. They had been sitting on a bench in a city park, not far from their work building. The sakura had just bloomed, the trees bursting with pale pink and white blossoms. The petals gusted down with every breeze and the walkway and grass were dusted with them. Other people were spread out on the grass around them, mostly eating or chatting and admiring the petals.
“Hn?” Yuriko looked at her.
They had eaten lunch together every day for the last two months. Yuriko had gotten into the habit of taking Michiko's train, despite it being the wrong direction for Yuriko’s apartment. Michiko had curled her hair, framing soft waves around her face. An errant blossom had snagged itself in her fringe ten minutes ago. Yuriko hadn’t said anything about it.
“Have you ever kissed a girl?”
Yuriko had flushed, but couldn't take her eyes away from Michiko. She had never kissed anyone, but she was too shy to just come out to someone like that. She shook her head.
Michiko smiled and slid her hand along the bench, fingers lacing with Yuriko’s. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes. I-I mean, hai.” She had said it in English. A strange habit whenever she was nervous. Her brain seemed to cross wires, switching to English when she meant Japanese and Japanese when she meant English.
Michiko was grinning, fingers tight. “Good. Me too,” she answered in English.
Yuriko let out a gasping giggle and Michiko leaned into her, resting her head on Yuriko’s shoulder. A strange country they lived in, where this girl that she cared about, that she wanted to kiss, could cuddle into her in such a public place. If Michiko had been a man, the old couple currently strolling easily through the park probably would be giving them dirty looks. As it was, they were ignored.
Yuriko would kiss Michiko later, after walking her all the way to her apartment. Michiko had stood on her toes, too short even in heels, straining in the lamplight towards Yuriko.
Yuriko tried not to think about Michiko too much. She wasn’t even working for Mashida anymore, and Michiko was married to Kenji-san. He was a fine man, and would take care of Michiko just as well as Yuriko had. He was someone she could introduce to her parents. He was someone that, despite not being able to touch as freely in public, she could really be with. No secret touches, no masquerading as just “good friends.” A real boyfriend and husband.
It was strange to Yuriko, now that her time with Michiko had come and gone, that what she had missed the most was not the kisses in the dark or stolen touches at a nomikai when everyone was too drunk to care, or putting her arm around her on the train to steady her, or even holding her hand on that bench in the park. She missed that sakura petal stuck in Michiko’s hair and how she had never reached up to remove it.
She wasn’t sure why she wanted to go back to that sakura season. What difference would it have made? Would Michiko have been too distracted to ask Yuriko the question that started their relationship? Or would Yuriko, so taken in the moment, have kissed her then? Not caring of the public space, not caring if people understood or didn’t understand that two girls could love each other, in this country that thought it was impossible. That two girls or two guys could share something as sacred and beautiful as a husband and wife. That letting them hold hands in public was almost as suffocating as shaming them for it.
Instead what Yuriko had learned in that moment was how to hold herself in. Deny the beauty and impulse to act as she really wanted. She understood what it meant to appreciate the sakura for just a few short weeks, and then to hope they would come again next year.
Yuriko opened her eyes to the early dawn light. She had opened her window in the night, hoping for a breeze to cut the humidity. The room was pleasantly cool and she lay in her bed, appreciating that she could just relax. It was Sunday and, barring a total meltdown at the factory, she had the day off.
She stretched and buried herself a little further into her duvet. She was perfectly content to lie around until noon.
Her doorbell rang.
Yuriko frowned. If that was Fujioka-san asking her to watch her dogs because she was going on another sudden business trip, then Yuriko was going to pretend to be asleep. Fujioka-san’s dogs drooled about a bucket of saliva a day and tried to pull her arm from her socket when they went for walks.
The doorbell kept ringing and Yuriko found herself getting into a rather foul mood. Her phone-bracelet buzzed on the bed stand. She reached over and tapped it, reading the text projected in the morning light.
Sorry! I’m having a crisis! Are you home?
It was from Kathleen Schmitt.
Yuriko sat up, slipping on the bracelet to see the display better.
What is wrong?
Surely she couldn’t have gotten lost so early in the morning. Perhaps she was at the supermarket and freaking out over which nikuman to get. The thought almost made Yuriko smile. Probably with any other person, Yuriko would have been annoyed by such a show of helplessness. But Kathleen was, well, she made it look kind of cute.
Please, answer the door. It’s hard to explain.
Yuriko stood up and threw on some sweatpants, not bothering to change her pajama shirt. If Kathleen required her to get properly dressed, then she could find someone else. Yuriko opened the door.
Kathleen was in the midst of tapping out another text on her wrist. But she looked up, pale and wide-eyed. “I’m so sorry, but I wasn’t sure who to call.”
Yuriko folded her arms. “What exactly is the problem?
Kathleen
made an odd gesture with her hands. “It’s … can you come over to my place?”
“Can you not explain it here?”
“More like I can’t bring it here.” Kathleen reached out, gripping her elbow. “Please, you’ll understand when you see.”
Her hand was shaking where it touched Yuriko. “All right, but this better be worth it.”
Kathleen tugged her down to her door, stumbling to unlock it. But as she opened the door, she hesitated. “Also, this totally isn’t what it looks like.”
Yuriko was about to ask, but Kathleen opened the door and she could see into the small apartment.
A woman lay there, wearing no clothes and twitching slightly on the floor. She was lying face down, long black hair fanned around her. Yuriko took a step forward, a little stunned. Who was she? What was wrong? Had Kathleen called an ambulance? Did she know how?
Kathleen rushed forward. “She’s not … it’s not … it’s a PLC!” She knelt beside the woman, holding up a wrist.
Yuriko approached slowly. “But the PLC hasn’t even gone beta yet.”
Kathleen shook her head as she tapped the wrist. Yuriko could see now that it was transmitting to Kathleen’s computer, where lines of code were being displayed. “This is … something of a pre-beta. I was given a PLC to run some field tests. It’s only been a couple days, but now she’s having some sort of breakdown and I can’t figure it out.” As she spoke, her eyes were locked to the computer display. She turned to Yuriko, pleading. “I think I broke her and I’m totally going to get fired. You have to help me.”
Yuriko looking back to the body. “Your PLC is a woman?” she asked without thinking. She stared at Kathleen, feeling like her entire perception of the woman was tilting slightly. She hadn’t even considered that Kathleen was …
Kathleen’s face went from white to a deep red. “Well, yes … but it’s not what it seems. It’s actually a mistake! She was supposed to be male. There must have been sort of problem that we haven’t figured out. She, uh, actually has quite a few physical … problems. But that’s not important! I broke her and if I can’t fix her quickly my entire project is going up in flames. You have to help me!”
