Villain

by Shuichi Yoshida

  “Yeah, but don’t worry about it.”

  “What do you mean, don’t worry about it?” Keigo asked.

  Yoshino, sounding resigned, said, “Just, ah—just wait a second,” and scurried off toward the car.

  Keigo certainly hadn’t come here to see Yoshino, but he was taken aback by her cheery welcome and realized he couldn’t very well just leave.

  When Yoshino ran over to the car, the man’s face in the overhead light visibly relaxed a bit. But she merely opened the passenger-side door, said a few words to him, then shut the door and came back over to Keigo.

  She’d slammed the door so hard the sound reverberated through the street for a time.

  “Sorry,” Yoshino apologized. “He’s a friend of a friend, someone I lent some money to.” She looked annoyed.

  “Don’t you want him to give it back?”

  “No, it’s okay. I just asked him to transfer it to my account,” Yoshino said lightly. Keigo glanced over at the car and saw the man still staring in their direction.

  “Going back to the apartment?” Keigo asked.

  She’d neglected the man she was supposed to meet up with, and come back to him, but this didn’t seem to bother her. She stood there watching Keigo steadily, waiting for him to continue.

  “Uh, yeah …” Yoshino answered.

  Truthfully, Keigo found this type of girl hard to deal with. The kind who was waiting for something, but pretended not to be. Who made of show of not expecting anything but actually was expecting a lot.

  If the car the man she had met up with had pulled away right then, Keigo would probably never have given her a ride. He wouldn’t have found it hard to just say, “Well, I gotta go. Catch you later,” and leave her there. But that other car just stayed put, the man’s face—at once angry and sad—still faintly visible in the interior light. It didn’t look like the man was going to get out of the car, and Yoshino showed no indication that she was going back to him.

  “So your building’s nearby?” Keigo said, breaking the silence, and for a second Yoshino was at a loss for an answer. Her smile could have been interpreted either way.

  “Want a ride?”

  Yoshino nodded happily. He pressed the key to unlock his car. When he opened the passenger door Yoshino crawled inside.

  While they’d been outside talking in the cold wind, he hadn’t noticed Yoshino’s breath, but when she said, shivering, “It’s nice and warm inside the car!” he realized she stank of garlic.

  His feelings changed as soon as he got in the driver’s seat. This girl would be a good outlet for all the irritation he’d been feeling all night.

  “You have some time?” Keigo asked as he started the engine.

  “Why d’you ask?” Yoshino said.

  “You feel like going for a drive?”

  “A drive? Where to?” She wasn’t going to turn him down, but still she tilted her head as if she had her doubts.

  “No place in particular.… How ’bout we test our courage and go to Mitsuse Pass?” Keigo teased, and stepped on the gas. In the rearview mirror he caught a glimpse of the blond man’s white Skyline.

  It’s no big deal, she told herself, and her legs, which had been pedaling furiously, came to an abrupt halt. The Saga station, where she was supposed to meet Yuichi, was just across the street.

  It’s no big deal, Mitsuyo murmured to herself again. Seeing a guy she met online—no big deal. Everybody does it, and meeting him isn’t going to change anything.

  This morning she’d told Tamayo as she left for work, “I’ll be a little late tonight.” She realized now that ever since then she’d been telling herself, over and over, that this was nothing to get all worked up over.

  She’d e-mailed Yuichi, promising to meet him. He’d asked her where would be a good place, and she’d answered back. He’d asked her what time would work for her, and she’d replied. Simple enough, but as soon as she put down her cell phone, she started to feel uneasy, wondering whether she was really going through with it. Making a date had been easy, but she’d never given any thought to how she really felt about it.

  No way am I going through with this, Mitsuyo murmured. I’m not that brave.

  Perhaps she wasn’t, but she did think about what she should wear. And she did imagine the two of them meeting up at the station.

  As morning dawned she couldn’t see herself actually going on the date. Couldn’t see herself going, yet she told Tamayo she’d be late. Couldn’t see herself going, yet she changed her clothes and left the house. Wasn’t brave enough to actually meet him, but now here she was standing right across from the station.

  She must have been standing there for a while, for people rushing to the station passed her. Mitsuyo stepped to one side and sat back on a railing. A middle-aged woman behind her, thinking perhaps that she wasn’t feeling well, shot her a sympathetic look. The sun was strong, so she didn’t feel the cold. Just the railing digging painfully into her rear end.

  It was already past eleven, the time they’d agreed to meet. From her perch on the railing, she could see the traffic circle in front of the station. People were going in and out of the station entrance but none were likely candidates. Just then a white car roared into the traffic circle. The car’s tires squealed so loudly as it took the corner that Mitsuyo, some distance away, instinctively stood up. There was no doubt about it—this was the car whose photo Yuichi had shown her in an e-mail the night before. “I can’t go through with this,” Mitsuyo said softly. But despite her words, her right leg took a small step forward.

  What do I do if he isn’t happy with what he sees? If he’s disappointed by me—what then? These thoughts in mind, she started walking.

  “It’s no big deal. Seeing a guy I met online is no big deal,” she repeated, forcing her feet to move forward. She found it incredibly strange that she’d be approaching the car of some man she didn’t know. She was surprised that she had this much courage.

  The door of the white car opened just as Mitsuyo was about to enter the traffic circle. She stopped, and watched as a tall blond man came out. In the winter sunlight his hair looked several shades lighter than the pictures he’d sent her.

  The man glanced in her direction, but soon looked back toward the entrance to the station. He shut the car door and leaped over the railing. Mitsuyo steadily watched this from behind one of the trees that lined the road. The man was younger than she’d thought. Thinner, too, and kinder looking. She was sure she would take it no further. She didn’t think she’d find the courage no matter how hard she looked within herself.

  The man disappeared inside the station for a moment, then emerged again, cell phone in hand. For an instant her eyes met his. She turned away and sat back down on the railing.

  I’ll count to thirty and if he hasn’t come here by then I’ll go home, she thought. He must have seen her face. She wanted him to make the next move. She was afraid that he’d be disappointed once he met her. But she also would hate to run away after coming this far and later regret it.

  In the end, she counted to five but then the numbers wouldn’t come. She didn’t know how long she sat there, but as she stared at her feet a shadow fell over her legs.

  “Hey …” a timid voice said from above her. She looked up and saw the man standing there in the sunlight filtering down through the leaves of the trees.

  “My name is Shimizu.…”

  Maybe it was the way he stood there, all shy. Maybe it was the way the winter sun shone on his skin. Or maybe it was the fearful look in his eyes. But in that instant something changed for her. She felt as if her life up to that point was now over. Something new was about to begin—she had no idea what—but Mitsuyo was sure of one thing. She was glad she had come.

  Mitsuyo tensely smiled at him, and that tension seemed to infect Yuichi as he nervously looked around.

  “You’re going to get towed if you park there,” she said, her first words to Yuichi, and Mitsuyo surprised herself at how calm she sounded. />
  “You’re right.” Rattled, Yuichi started to head back to the car but remembered Mitsuyo was there and came to an abrupt halt. His long limbs made his movements look exaggerated and Mitsuyo couldn’t help but smile.

  After he left the railing, Yuichi constantly glanced behind him, like someone worried that his child might not follow.

  “Your hair looks blonder than in the photos,” Mitsuyo called out to him.

  Yuichi slowed down so he was walking beside her, and scratched his head. “’Bout a year ago I was looking at myself in the mirror one night, and I suddenly wanted to change something,” he mumbled. “Not to look fashionable or anything …”

  “So you went with blond hair?”

  “Couldn’t think of anything else,” he replied, looking serious.

  They came up to the car and Yuichi opened the passenger door.

  “I think I know how you feel,” Mitsuyo said, and with no hesitation at all got in.

  Yuichi walked around to the driver’s side. He must use some kind of air freshener in the car, Mitsuyo thought, because there was a scent of roses. From the moment she climbed inside she could tell he took very good care of his car.

  Yuichi settled into the driver’s seat, quickly started the engine, and pulled away. She thought he was going to smash into the taxi in front of them, but he accelerated as if he was sure, down to a fraction of an inch, how much clearance he had. His car barely missed the cab. His fingers gripping the steering wheel looked as if he’d just finished fighting somebody. Not that Mitsuyo had ever seen somebody’s hands right after a fight, but the long, knobby, gnarled fingers looked terribly beat up.

  As the car moved halfway through the traffic circle, Mitsuyo saw the usual scene of the front of the station. Here she was, riding around in a car with a man she’d just met, yet she didn’t feel at all uneasy. It was rather the scenery of the front of the station that looked cold and distant to her. After just a few minutes she trusted Yuichi’s driving more than she trusted what she saw outside the window.

  “I never imagined I’d be driving around with someone like you,” Mitsuyo said as the car drove on, the words escaping her.

  Yuichi shot her a glance. “Someone like me?” he asked, inclining his head.

  “You know … a blond.”

  Yuichi scratched his head again.

  The words had come out inadvertently, but nothing else could express the way she felt.

  Cars with local license plates crawled down the road ahead of them, and Yuichi passed them one after another. He changed lanes smoothly, and every time he accelerated Mitsuyo was sucked back into the soft seat. Whenever she was in a taxi and the driver sped up, Mitsuyo tensed up, but strangely enough with Yuichi’s driving she didn’t feel nervous. His timing cut everything close when he changed lanes, but she was certain that, like opposite poles of magnets never touching, they’d never hit anything.

  “You’re really a good driver,” she said as Yuichi swung around another car. “I have a license but I never really drive much.”

  “It’s ’cause I drive all the time,” Yuichi replied.

  They were soon approaching the intersection with Highway 34. If they turned left they’d go past the menswear shop where Mitsuyo worked, go straight and they’d connect up with the Saga Yamato interchange on the interstate.

  “So what are we doing?” Mitsuyo asked, not looking at Yuichi, as they stopped for a time at a red light. “Should we go straight to the Yobuko lighthouse? Or have lunch first around here?” It was strange how smoothly the words came out. She had no idea what kind of man this was sitting beside her, and was amazed at her own boldness.

  Yuichi clutched the steering wheel hard. Mitsuyo looked at his fists and felt as if it were her body he was squeezing.

  “How about we go to a hotel?” Yuichi said as he stared at his fists. For a second it didn’t hit her what he was asking and she stared vacantly at him. “We can eat and go for a drive … after that,” Yuichi muttered, his eyes down. He looked just like a child who knew he was going to get scolded but went ahead and begged for a toy anyway.

  “What are you talking about?” Mitsuyo gave a quick laugh. Dumbfounded, she turned toward Yuichi and punched him on the shoulder.

  Yuichi grabbed her hand. The light had changed and the car behind them blew its horn. He let go of her hand and slowly stepped on the gas.

  That’s not why I came here! I just wanted to see the lighthouse, she thought. She could think of a number of things to say, but in front of the silent, awkward Yuichi they all felt phony.

  “Are you serious?” she replied, so tense her chest hurt, feeling as if the man beside her was already tugging her clothes off. She’d met this guy less than ten minutes ago and yet she was acting this bold. She felt as if she were watching herself from a distance.

  Yuichi, eyes fixed forward, nodded. She waited for him to say something, some clever, enticing words, but nothing came.

  It had been a long time since she’d seen such open sexual desire. The last time she met a man who’d wanted her this much was back when she worked in the factory and one of the men on the same line who’d been there longer suddenly grabbed her in the parking lot. Mitsuyo had been friendly with him, but still she had struggled and run away. It had all been too sudden; but at the same time, she’d been hoping that something like that would happen, and was afraid he’d find out. She didn’t want to admit that that’s who she was, a girl waiting for a man to make his sudden, aggressive move.

  Almost ten years had passed since then, and she’d mentally replayed that incident over and over. That moment may have decided the kind of life she had now. She felt as if it had changed her into the type of woman who sought out fierce sexual desire from men.

  “Going to a hotel is fine with me,” Mitsuyo said calmly. Up ahead was a sign for the Saga Yamato interchange.

  For some reason she pictured the apartment she shared with Tamayo—their comfortable, snug little place. But today the last thing she wanted was to go back there.

  After their car passed the interchange, they headed over a highway overpass that tied all the rice fields below in a large bow and headed in the direction of Fukuoka. They must have been traveling fast, for the billboards and signs they passed sped by in shreds.

  “There’s a hotel just up ahead.” As Yuichi murmured this, it hit Mitsuyo again: Soon I’m going to have sex.

  Just then she spotted the sign for a love hotel, beyond the fallow fields. Mitsuyo turned to look at Yuichi. His hair wasn’t all that thick, and there was a small mole on his chin.

  “Do you always take girls to a hotel right away?” she asked, not really caring about the answer. Yuichi had invited her to a hotel as soon as he met her and she’d accepted. That was all that was certain at this moment. Between the two of them right now, that was all that mattered.

  “I don’t mind … if you always take girls to a hotel like this.”

  A narrow road, almost hidden behind the sign, led to the hotel. Their car slowed down. Potted plants lined the road, not a single one with any flowers. The road led directly to the half-underground parking lot. They hadn’t passed any other cars on the way over from the interchange, but still the lot was nearly full.

  They parked in the last space they could find. When Yuichi turned off the engine it was so silent they could hear each other swallow.

  “It’s pretty crowded, isn’t it?” Mitsuyo said to break the silence. “Guess ’cause it’s Saturday.” As she said this she remembered last Saturday, and how a customer had complained because they’d made a mistake with the delivery date on some clothes that were being altered.

  Yuichi had sped here without hesitating, but now that the car was stopped he didn’t make a move. He just sat there, staring at the key in his hand.

  “I hope they have a room open,” Mitsuyo said, as casually as she could manage.

  Yuichi, still looking down, muttered, “Yeah.”

  “It’s kind of a strange feeling, since we just
met and now look where we are.”

  Mitsuyo’s voice sounded muffled in the closed car. The more she tried to convince herself that this was no big deal, the weaker her voice sounded.

  “I’m sorry,” Yuichi suddenly said in a low voice.

  “Why are you apologizing?” Mitsuyo was taken aback. “There’s no need to apologize,” she said. “It’s just that it was kind of sudden, so I was surprised. Women get those feelings, too, sometimes. And when they do, they want to hook up with somebody.”

  The words came out all of a sudden. She couldn’t believe it was she saying this. Women want to have sex, too, she was saying, and when they want sex they go out looking for a guy. And she was telling this to a man she’d just met.

  Yuichi stared right at her, his eyes seeming to want to say more. Mitsuyo felt herself blushing. It felt as if all her co-workers were eavesdropping. Not her present co-workers, but all her colleagues back at the factory, even her classmates from high school—all of them listening in and laughing at her.

  “Anyway,” she said, “let’s go in and check it out. Who knows, it may be full.”

  Mitsuyo quickly opened the door and left the car, as if she were fleeing from the confines of the two of them inside together. As soon as she opened the door, the chilly air from the parking lot flowed in.

  Once out of the car her body, warmed by the heater in the car, quickly grew cold. Yuichi got out right away and headed toward the entrance of the hotel.

  Sex I can take or leave. I just want somebody to hold me. For years that’s what I’ve been looking for. Somebody to hold me. Mitsuyo said this to herself as she stared at Yuichi’s back. This is how I really feel, she wanted to tell him. I don’t want just anybody to hold me. It’s got to be someone who wants me and I want him to hold me tight.

  A panel at the self-service check-in counter showed that two rooms were vacant. Yuichi chose the one named Firenze. He hesitated for a moment, then selected “Short Time” above the panel. Immediately the panel indicated the price, ¥4,800.

  Mitsuyo was sick of the kind of life where all she did was look for ways to drown her loneliness.