Tokyo Love

by Diana Jean

  Ai almost rolled her eyes, but stopped mid-motion. Probably because it would infuriate Kathleen in this moment. “You think because you are not attracted to me that you cannot be attracted to other women? If you see a strange man on the street and are not attracted to him, then you are not attracted to other men?”

  “That is not the same—”

  “It is similar enough.”

  “Don’t argue with me!” Kathleen felt her voice raise and she bit her lip. She felt close to tears again.

  Ai lowered her hands, leaning back and relaxing her stance. “I apologize,” she said softly. It sounded so goddamned sincere that Kathleen also felt like apologizing. “I just want to know, if you are so relieved, why you are about to cry?”

  Kathleen looked away, because her throat felt tight and she really, really didn’t want to cry in front of Ai. Even if she was a dumb robot that was only temporary. Kathleen wanted to feel strong enough, at least in this moment, to hold herself together.

  “It’s because of Yuriko, yes?” Ai said, almost a whisper. “You wished to test your feelings toward her by using me.”

  It sounded so cruel and twisted. Kathleen wanted to deny it, but it was true. Yet, Ai didn’t look like she was hurt. Her eyes were open to Kathleen, supportive. She didn’t have an emotional stake in this. Her programming only told her to please Kathleen, in any capacity she was allotted. She had no other interests, no other motives.

  “Yes,” Kathleen said slowly.

  Ai nodded in confirmation. “And since you find yourself not attracted to me, you concluded that whatever intimate occurrences you’ve shared with Yuriko must be false.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that is idiotic,” she stated, quite clearly.

  Kathleen frowned. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “I’m not Yuriko.”

  Kathleen waved a hand. “Yeah, well, you look like her.”

  “Do you often mistake me for her?”

  “Well, no. That’s because—”

  “When we are next to each other, is it hard to tell the difference between us?”

  “No.”

  “Then how can you know your feelings for her through me?”

  “I don’t have feelings for her!” Kathleen ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, I care about her. I value her friendship. But I don’t … obviously, I’m not romantically interested in her.”

  “A conclusion riddled with faults.” Ai was leaning forward again, fingers pressed to her lips. “Tell me, have you kissed her?”

  Kathleen swallowed. “Yes.” It sort of felt weird to say, a mixture between relief and tense pain.

  “Have you touched her?”

  “Well, I … kind of?” Kathleen wasn’t about to admit she couldn’t quite remember the extent of it. Ai would just assume the worst.

  “Have you had sex with her?”

  “No!”

  “Have you thought about it?”

  “What is your point?” Kathleen spat back, tired of whatever game Ai was trying to play.

  Ai sighed, as if Kathleen was being the difficult one. “Did you enjoy that? At any time, for any reason?” She paused. “Or did it feel like what you just experienced with me now?”

  “I didn’t—” Kathleen stopped, probably because Ai was staring at her, eyes narrow in seriousness. Maybe just because she was actually having a pretty honest conversation with her, but Kathleen felt like she should take her time. “I don’t know. At the time it seemed … right. But I don’t go off daydreaming about Yuriko or anything like that. I’m just … I’m just lonely, okay? It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone and I think … I think my thoughts are just getting a little desperate, you know? Yuriko is nice and, I don’t know, seems available. I don’t want to use her.”

  She felt like she was repeating herself. Her own thoughts were circling around, over and over in her head. She knew the conclusions, but it didn’t mean she had any answers. Nor did she know exactly what to do next. She had to talk to Yuriko, but how could she explain this? Would Yuriko understand? Would Yuriko hate her?

  Ai stood up, walked over to Kathleen, and knelt beside her. She put a warm hand on her shoulder. “Can I suggest one thing of you?”

  “What is that?”

  “Don’t be afraid of being confused. It’s all right not to know. It’s all right to be unsure of yourself. Just give yourself time. Please, before you do anything, give yourself time.”

  “I don’t need time. I am sure enough.”

  Ai let her arm drop. “You need time.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  Ai reached out, the backs of her fingers touching Kathleen’s cheek. Her cheek was wet. She had started crying. She didn’t need Ai to answer her question.

  chapter TWENTY-THREE

  It actually was surprisingly easy and painless. Also very, very frustrating

  Yuriko, at first, simply showed up at Kathleen’s door, six-pack of cheap beer, ready for just about everything. Except, she wasn’t ready for Ai to answer the door, face hard with judgment. She spoke just once and then stepped aside.

  “Ki o tsukete.”

  Yuriko had been prepared for a rejection, perhaps even an acceptance, or maybe just an honest, if not convoluted conversation. Instead, Kathleen dodged every probing question and any sensitive topic. They drank the beer, watched some anime, and both went to bed early. It had been so enjoyable and easy that Yuriko forgot that she was ready to take on anything.

  The next day they met for lunch at the train station. They spoke of work and the weather and the delicious ramen they had decided to have. So simple, that Yuriko forgot to find pauses in the conversation to bring up Nikko and the kiss.

  They saw each other the next day and the day after that. They had no real talk and no discomfort either. Kathleen even called her, asking if Yuriko would be interested in going to Harajuku with her.

  “That’s fine. I think I can get off work early.” Yuriko paused. “I’m surprised Ai doesn’t want to take you.”

  “She just mentioned that I might find it interesting. Figured I’d have a look, but I didn’t want to go alone. Or, God forbid, ask my love robot to accompany me.”

  Yuriko could hear the smile. “Yeah, can’t have that.”

  So they went to Harajuku and glanced at Meiji shrine. Yuriko suggested Kathleen come to Ueno to a good sashimi food stall with her. They also walked through Shinjuku and Shibuya. They even met once out in Yokohama and walked along the pier, when Yuriko was forced to travel there for work. They had practically seen each other every day, sometimes more if they met up at the apartment complex too.

  Yuriko began to think of that kiss at Nikko as some sort of dream, not unlike everything they shared in her bathroom. It became blurry and undefined, almost like it hadn’t happened, almost like she only wished it had happened.

  Maybe it was for the best, to let it all go. Obviously, Kathleen didn’t want to address it. Perhaps Yuriko should respect that. It didn’t bother her. At least, not until Yuriko was sitting alone in her apartment, usually with a half-finished beer in front of her.

  Then she would think of Kathleen and how she had laughed that day. Or how she had looked tired because of work. She would think about her hair catching the sunlight on the pier and how that bright red looked so good against the deep blue of the water. She would think about her eating a pink, fresh maguro and grinning as she chewed it slowly. She would think about her looking at the dōjinshii in Ikebukuro, pretending like she wasn’t seriously considering buying them.

  She would look to the door and be almost standing, as if ready to just march over the two doors away and ask Kathleen for a straight answer. What did Yuriko mean to her? Were they just friends? Were they more? Could they be more?

  Yuriko wouldn’t move. She just sat there and waited for the next call or text. Hoping next time, this time, something would feel resolved. Then dreading what that could mean.

  Ai had told her to be careful and wheneve
r Yuriko was alone, she could hear her voice.

  “Ki o tsukete.”

  chapter TWENTY-FOUR

  Kathleen opened her door to find a piece of cloth flung at her face. Sputtering, confused, she tore it from her head, looking at it. It was some sort of robe, pale lavender with dark blue flowers and pink swirls decorating it. “What is this?” She looked up to Ai, who had thrown it at her.

  “A yukata,” Ai answered, twirling around. She was already wearing one herself.

  “Yukata?” Kathleen asked.

  “It’s a summer kimono.”

  Kathleen had seen kimono before in pictures and this yukata looked very similar. It seemed a little less lavish, however. It wasn’t made from a silk like Kathleen expected, but a stiff cotton. The sleeves were also shorter, ending just a few inches above Ai’s wrist. Ai had done her hair up in a bouncy side ponytail, decorate with fake flowers and a brightly colored bow. Her yukata was spring green and her sash around her middle was the same purple as yukata Kathleen held in her arms.

  “Okay. Why did you throw this at me?”

  Ai rolled her eyes. “Because you need to put it on. I have your obi over here. She pointed to a large strip of fabric on the table.

  “Why do I need to put it on?”

  “Hanabi! Matsuri!” Ai sang out, like it was an answer.

  Kathleen decided she needed to take off her shoes and sit down. Maybe eat something. She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, tucking the yukata under her arm. “Are you going to explain or just shout words to me?”

  Ai laughed, taking the yukata and spreading it on the table. “If you haven’t noticed, this entire summer, there have been signs everywhere for events like fireworks or festivals. I figured tonight we should probably go see one. You know, go out with a bang, yeah?”

  “Go out with a bang?” Kathleen asked.

  Ai tugged at the bottom of her sash, her obi. “I will be decommissioned tomorrow after all.”

  Kathleen paused, bottle pressed to her lips. “Oh yeah.” She hadn’t forgotten. In fact, today she had been to a rather tedious meeting in which they all went over exactly what was going to happen next. Kathleen still hadn’t finished her final report, which she would present next week to Tamura and some higher people in the company. Everything was mostly complete. Kathleen wasn’t going to make any more additions to her report, just revise it for the presentation.

  She hadn’t thought about how she would only have the next twelve hours or so with Ai. Or that she had no reason to test her anymore. She just knew that tomorrow morning, some people from engineering would come down, box Ai up, and take her away. She expected by the afternoon to receive a package with Ai’s data and software for analysis.

  Ai knew this, possibly not in the detail that Kathleen knew, but she didn’t look depressed or scared. She smiled at Kathleen, holding up the yukata again. She was a computer, Kathleen reminded herself, and would continue to function as programmed until shut down.

  Kathleen put down the bottle. “Okay, what exactly is this hanami and mitsuri?”

  “Hanabi is fireworks. Matsuri is a festival. It usually includes food and some games, maybe a dance or a competition, depending on the area. It’s a little late for that. But if we leave now, we can still catch some good fireworks.”

  Kathleen looked at the yukata skeptically. “I have to wear this?”

  “No. But then you wouldn’t have an exceptional cultural experience, right?”

  “Okay, okay. How do I put this on?”

  It was a lot more difficult than it looked on Ai. Kathleen thought, like any bathrobe, she could just put her arms through the sleeves and tie the obi like a sash around her waist. Instead, Ai was circling around her, using other, thinner sashes to secure the yukata, creating a fold at the waist so the hem would hang just above Kathleen’s ankles. She tugged and pulled so everything could lie flat and Kathleen’s breasts were in no danger of slipping out. Then she put on the obi, which seemed to circle Kathleen five times before Ai took it to her back and made a simple little bow. It felt like a corset, hard against Kathleen’s ribs and back. Kathleen was convinced that if she were to take it off, she would never get it back on without extreme assistance.

  Kathleen didn’t have a full-length mirror, but her bathroom sink mirror was good enough. She tugged at the ends of the sleeves, frowning. “I don’t think these were made for big girls.”

  “Are you kidding? You look perfect!” Ai cooed behind her. Kathleen wasn’t convinced.

  Ai looked slim in her yukata, small ankles and thin wrists making her seem delicate and doll-like. Kathleen looked like she was a sausage with a casing too small. Ai’s obi was perfectly smooth against her stomach. Kathleen could tell hers was threatening to wrinkle and bend under the weight of her curves. She knew she had a larger chest and thighs compared to most Japanese women, but she had always thought she looked good enough if she could show off her thin waist. Unfortunately, the obi bulked up her waist, making Kathleen completely round.

  Ai ran her fingers through Kathleen’s hair. “You know, Japanese girls spend hours trying to get a good curl in their hair. Here I can just throw up your hair and it looks perfect.” She gave Kathleen a high, messy bun and stuck a few flowers and beads into it.

  Kathleen tilted her head. Her curls did make it look fashionably fun and flouncy. It made her feel a little better. “All right.” She turned around, looking at her obi again. A thought struck her and she turned to Ai. “Hey, where did you get these? Did you use my money?”

  Ai held a finger to her lips, grinning. “No, I just asked for a favor.”

  “A favor? From who?”

  Ai’s grin became wider. “Yuriko, of course.”

  “Yuriko?”

  “Yes, this week you gave me permission to contact her as needed.”

  Kathleen rubbed her forehead. She did actually remember something like that. Probably when she traveled to Yokohama and wasn’t sure if she was going to make the long journey across Tokyo alone. She might have said Ai could contact Yuriko if she couldn’t reach her. “That was for emergencies only.”

  “Emergencies, important cultural events, same thing.” Ai patted Kathleen’s shoulders. “Come on, she’s probably waiting for us.”

  “Wait, Yuriko is coming too?”

  Ai rolled her eyes. “Of course!”

  As if on cue, the door rang. “Enter!” Kathleen shouted and popped her head out from the bathroom.

  Yuriko opened the door, wearing a red yukata and black obi. She didn’t have any hair accessories; her hair was down around her shoulders. It struck Kathleen as a little odd, considering Ai, who usually wore her hair down now had it up, and Yuriko, who usually had hers tied back for work, now wore it down. It didn’t make them look any more similar. Yuriko looked older, somehow, more mature. Her hair, long down the lines of her yukata, made her seem taller or longer, more elegant and formal than anything Kathleen had seen her wear.

  Yuriko glanced at Kathleen. “Ready?”

  Kathleen could help but hold out her arms. “Honest answer. Do I look completely ridiculous in this?”

  Ai pouted. “I already told you that you look great!”

  “You are programmed to.” She looked back to Yuriko. “So?”

  Yuriko looked carefully up and down Kathleen’s figure. Her eyes were slow, face blank. Kathleen felt her cheeks heat, embarrassed by the scrutiny. When Yuriko met her gaze, her eyes seemed a deeper color, soft and warm.

  “You look beautiful.” Her voice sounded deep, just louder than a whisper.

  Kathleen tugged at the obi, feeling like it was constricting her breathing. “Umm … ieie?”

  Yuriko smiled. “We’ll make a native out of you yet.” She held out her hand. “Well, we better get there before the crowds get too crazy.”

  Kathleen had her hand raised, ready to take Yuriko’s. Then she stopped, mind blurring to a halt. Why was she taking Yuriko’s hand? Wasn’t it strange? It was strange. It gave the wr
ong impression, right? Was she overthinking this?

  Ai suddenly pushed past her, taking her hand and Yuriko’s in both of hers, tugging them both out of the door. “Baka. Come on, you’ll both make us late.”

  Kathleen wasn’t sure what she was expecting from a Japanese fireworks show. She imagined something similar to an American Fourth of July display. Like, everyone would be in a big field or parking lot, watching fireworks go off, possibly to music.

  She was gravely mistaken when they got off the train.

  The station was bursting with people. Many of them were dressed up like Kathleen, Yuriko, and Ai. Others just wore normal summer clothes. The station had many signs and men with glowing batons waving people around or into the line.

  “We’ve got to get on a bus,” Yuriko said, raising her head, trying to see. “I think we line up here.”

  It was a massive line, filling up half the station and moving onto the street. Kathleen could see buses constantly arriving, packed to the brim, and still the people kept flooding in.

  “Are these normal buses?” Kathleen asked. On nights like this the locals must hate them.

  Yuriko shook her head. “No, the city designates them for fireworks only. They’ll be running back and forth until the matsuri ends.”

  “When do the fireworks start?” Kathleen wasn’t sure they would ever get out of this line.

  “The fireworks go on all night.” Yuriko grinned. “You’ll see.”

  It actually didn’t take long for them to advance in the line. Even with the people, the buses just kept arriving, ready to take more. They managed to get lucky to get on the bus first and were able to snag seats. Kathleen pressed herself against the window, staring out into the city streets. It seemed not everyone took the bus and groups were out on the streets, laughing and waving. It was a humid night and Kathleen wished for one of those cheap paper fans everyone was carrying around.

  “What is this festival for?”

  Ai, who was sitting next to her, spoke. “The Sumidagawa festival is actually a very old tradition. There is no holiday for it or anything. It’s just to celebrate the end of summer.”