Takashi’s eyes were wide open and he was captivated as he’d never heard of such things. He told them that in the future he, too, would like to go to Australia, Europe or America.
Later that night, Katsuro and Takashi sat down in the living room and started to drink a little sake. At first, Katsuro spoke with even more enthusiasm about Australia and its culture, but as the evening progressed and the sake loosened his lips, Katsuro spoke in more serious tones.
Katsuro explained how Mika had become increasingly withdrawn over the past two years. When they’d married three years ago, she’d always been positive and outgoing, but Takashi’s cousin explained that she was losing her spirit of late and there was only one reason for it.
‘Mika’s thirty-two years old now, and for three years she’s been trying to have a baby, but she hasn’t been able to get pregnant. She won’t say anything, but she’s not as happy as she used to be,’ explained Katsuro.
He went on to tell Takashi that many of the wives of his colleagues that were working for the same trading company in Australia would often meet to keep themselves entertained. Most of the older women over thirty had children and Mika was desperate for a little one of her own.
Being younger than Katsuro and not as worldly, Takashi could only listen and assure him that they would definitely have a child in the future. He truly believed that Mika would be a wonderful mother one day.
Mika came back downstairs and into the room where they were sitting. Both Katsuro and Takashi were quite sloshed from the beer and the sake. She came to tell Takashi that he must stay the night and there was no way he could go home at that hour.
Takashi slept on a futon in their tatami room set out especially for him. His stomach was full and his head was awash with liquor. He soon fell into a strange and vivid dream. It was springtime and he was walking along a street that he did not recognise. There were people having picnics all along the side of the road under the cherry blossom trees. Suddenly, he saw Haruka and he began running towards her, but the faster he tried to run, the further away she appeared. Somehow he tripped and the ground began to shake. The petals from the cherry blossoms fell on him and around him, smothering his entire body. They kept falling and soon he was covered in so many petals, he could no longer see Haruka. He tried to brush off the petals, but it was all in vain. He started sinking and spiralling further into the darkness and then suddenly Takashi woke up with a thud. It was probably about six a.m., judging from the light at the window.
Takashi looked around the room. On one side was a small family Buddhist altar with an incense burner and holder, Buddhist tableware, a candlestick, a bell and flowers for the souls of deceased ancestors. On the facing wall was a print. The print was of a single stem of a cherry blossom branch. He hadn’t noticed this the night before. It must have been because of the beer and the sake. Takashi went back to sleep and slept well before he left to go home in the morning.
CHAPTER 5
He that would the daughter win must the mother first begin
On Sunday morning, Takashi prepared for his trip to Kamakura to meet Haruka. He woke early at seven a.m., had a cold shower and shaved carefully. He even took out a ruler to measure his sideburns before he left just to make sure they were perfectly straight and aligned. The sky was clearer today and it did not look like it would rain; yet the humidity was still extremely high. He picked up a new navy T-shirt that he’d purchased at Seibu department store in Shibuya the week before and pulled it over his head, enjoying the feel of new cotton. After pulling up his pair of khaki shorts that fell below his knees and were covered in pockets, he looked for a pair of clean socks. He could only find one fresh pair with a rather large hole in the foot of the left sock. Not worrying about that, he pulled them on along with his running shoes. He felt fresh and confident as he headed towards the station.
At Shin-Kawasaki station, Takashi bought a can of Coke and a packet of Mild Seven cigarettes from the vending machines on the platform. It wasn’t long before the train arrived. As it was Sunday, the trains were quite crowded with families on day trips. He boarded the first carriage. He often did this on longer trips, so that he could watch the train driver and the view ahead. When Takashi was a child, he’d always thought that train drivers and taxi drivers were not human but some kind of mechanical robots. They always wore clean, formal uniforms complemented by spotless white gloves and official caps. Their expressions were set and they always sat rigidly as they moved the controls.
He stood for a while and watched the driver and the scenery stream by as the train picked up speed and then smoothly slowed down at each station, over and over again. Finally, the heat of the day forced him to sit down and wait with the others on board. He could see that everyone was wishing that the next stop would be his or her destination. There was no air-conditioning on this train.
At last, the train pulled into Kamakura at nine fifty a.m. Takashi came out of the station and found Haruka there waiting for him.
‘Hi, you look fresh,’ he said to her.
‘I haven’t been on a long train journey. Did it take you ages to get here?’ asked Haruka.
‘Only about ninety minutes,’ Takashi replied.
‘Ninety minutes! Did you have air-conditioning on the train?’
‘No, and it was really stuffy because there were so many people on my carriage.’ Takashi wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘Did you drive here?’ he asked her.
‘Yes, I parked the car near the station,’ she said, pointing to the adjoining car park.
‘So you did buy a car. What did you end up getting, Haruka?’
‘A Nissan March,’ she replied.
‘That’s a perfect car for you,’ Takashi said. He could picture Haruka in this curvy “handbag car”.
Takashi knew a lot about this town, as he’d visited often. Many people regarded Kamakura to be the Kyoto of the east. It is situated in the Kanagawa prefecture. Hundreds of years ago, it was the political centre of Japan. These days, it’s a renowned tourist destination, with many historical monuments, shrines and temples.
Haruka and Takashi decided to walk around Kamakura, rather than drive. He thought that she looked lovely. She was wearing a white A-line linen dress and her hair was tied back casually in a ponytail. The effect of the dress swinging from one side to the other as she walked and the style of her hair gave her a much younger appearance today.
They chatted as they walked.
‘Where did you go to primary school, Haruka?’ asked Takashi.
‘In fune,’ she replied. ‘But I didn’t like that school.’
‘Can you tell me why?’ he asked her.
‘I was really tiny until the age of twelve and the kids used to tease me and tell me my head was too big for my body. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t usually talk about it to anyone.’
‘You’re not going to believe this, but I had a similar problem,’ said Takashi. ‘I was so small and the other boys in primary school used to rough me up a bit because I wasn’t big enough to defend myself.’ Takashi shuddered as he remembered the bruises the young boys used to inflict on him. ‘But when I was fourteen, I had this amazing growth spurt and now I’m quite tall because of it.’
‘I can understand exactly how you feel,’ said Haruka.
Takashi and Haruka gazed at each other with a knowing smile. It was times like this that Takashi knew that they were meant to be together. They had so much in common.
Takashi thought it was a good time to change the subject. He didn’t want Haruka to harbour any bad memories. ‘How’s your father, Haruka?’ Takashi asked her, knowing that he was much better than he used to be. Waiting for a response, Takashi took out his packet of cigarettes and lit one up. He started puffing as they gazed at the lush landscape surrounding the temples.
‘He’s a lot better now,’ said Haruka with a smile.
Takashi blew the smoke from his cigarette away from her.
‘And your parents, Takashi … how a
re they?’ Haruka asked.
‘Both well, father’s still working a lot. He doesn’t get home until about eleven p.m., and every night my mother waits for him and has his dinner prepared when he walks in the door.’
‘Just like my mother used to do,’ Haruka said.
‘Well, now that your father is retired, he doesn’t eat late, does he? Wouldn’t he eat with you and your mother now?’ Takashi asked her.
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘How much older is your father than your mother, Haruka?’
Haruka adjusted her hair clip. ‘Fifteen years older.’
‘What does he do now that he doesn’t work and he’s feeling better?’ Takashi asked.
‘He really tries to keep himself busy. I think he misses going into the office and sometimes irritates my mother when he has nothing to do. He goes to the golf range a lot or reads books. He also likes cable television. He can sit for hours watching wildlife documentaries.’
‘That’s sweet,’ Takashi said.
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right,’ Haruka said with a smile.
Despite the heat, there were many tourists in Kamakura that Sunday. They saw a lot of foreigners: tall Americans chatting with great enthusiasm, stocky Germans showing great interest in the temples, and many others speaking in languages they did not recognise. They also heard the relaxed accent from the Kansai area of Japan. It seemed to Takashi that the older these western Japanese people were, the less likely they were to disguise their rural language and accents. This set them apart from the Tokyo people and the Tokyo dialect. He almost envied them, these elderly country folk who still lived in a past world, where they had no reason to impress or imitate others.
They visited many temples, but Haruka liked the Zen garden behind the Kenchoji Temple the most. They breathed in the serenity and calmness of the place. It was fifteen minutes before they decided to keep walking. They headed south towards the Great Buddha, a bronze statue over thirteen metres in height. It didn’t take them long to get there. They walked up the steps to the base and marvelled at its vastness.
‘This statue of Kotokuri, commonly called the Daibutsu,’ Takashi explained to Haruka, ‘was first made of wood, but is now constructed from bronze. It’s the largest Buddha in Kamakura.’
‘Really! I didn’t know that it was originally made of wood,’ she replied with interest.
They gazed upon the fresh flowers and fruit that had been placed in front of the Great Buddha. His eyes were lowered in prayer; his hands held together in contemplation.
At one fifteen p.m., they headed back to where Haruka had parked her car, the Nissan March, near the station. From there, they drove along the coast of Sagami Bay towards Enoshima Island.
‘This island is where the Samurai used to pray during times of battle or reflect on their teachings during the Edo Period,’ Haruka told Takashi in the car on the way. He was pleased that she, too, shared an appreciation of Japanese culture and history.
They found a convenient car park on the island and headed up the steep steps to the Enoshima shrine. Many people had come to receive blessings.
They paid their respects at the three temples at the top of the stairs and having done so, they turned to head back.
‘I heard that many people come to this island to ask for blessings for special occasions, such as marriages or births,’ said Haruka, descending down the steps from the shrine.
Little did she know that moments earlier, Takashi had silently offered his own prayer at the shrine that one day he would have the chance to marry Haruka.
Starting to feel hungry, they decided to head back to Kamakura to eat a late lunch at a popular soba noodle restaurant. They found a restaurant of Haruka’s choice and went inside to find a few couples and three families with small children. They both ordered chilled Zaru soba noodles and Takashi started telling Haruka about his stay in Yga at his cousin Katsuro’s house. He proudly described the pretty house and Mika’s expert cooking. He deliberately left out the part about their desire to have children and the problems they were having in his explanation.
As usual, Haruka was very attentive. Takashi also marvelled at the way she withstood the incredible humidity. He was so proud to be sitting next to such a beautiful girl who could listen to him so politely and give him her full attention.
When Haruka laughed, her cheeks would turn pink, her eyes would light up and her shoulders would shake a little. Unlike a lot of other girls, she would not place her hand over her mouth to hide her smile or her teeth. It was like she really enjoyed laughing. She enthralled him.
‘Are you still taking English lessons, Haruka?’ Takashi asked her as the waitress handed them their noodles.
‘Yes, every week,’ she replied.
‘Are you fluent in the language?’ Takashi asked with a mouth full of noodles.
‘No, far from it,’ Haruka replied. ‘Although I’ve been taking classes every week for about three years, I wouldn’t say that I was at all fluent.’
‘Where did you take the lessons before you started working at the English School in Harajuku?’ Takashi asked her.
‘I used to go to an English conversation school in Yokohama when my father was ill. It was the only time I’d ever leave the house, but it was really good for me because I needed to get out sometimes.’
‘I studied English grammar in junior high school, but I find that English pronunciation is the most difficult part of learning the language,’ Takashi said to her.
‘I’ve just got my tongue around pronouncing the ‘th’ sound,’ said Haruka. ‘Try and say ‘thank you’, Takashi.’
‘Zank you,’ he said.
Haruka bent over with laughter. ‘Put your tongue between your teeth when you say it. Try again.’
‘Thank you,’ Takashi said perfectly, for the first time ever.
‘Very good,’ she replied.
They spent the next few minutes smiling at each other. Takashi was sure that he shared an energy with Haruka that set them apart from other couples. He wished that he could repeat that day over and over, so that he could savour the hours he was spending with her.
‘Have you heard anything more about the management position in Kyoto?’ Takashi asked her, hoping she’d tell him she’d changed her mind about taking the job.
‘They want me to go out to Kyoto for an interview next week,’ she replied.
‘Oh, that’s good for you,’ he replied unenthusiastically. ‘Is it going to be a permanent position?’
‘Yes, it is,’ she replied. ‘Takashi, I understand if you’d prefer me to stay in Tokyo,’ she said, sensing his disappointment. ‘I love Tokyo and I really enjoy seeing you regularly. I’ll miss you when I move to Kyoto.’
‘And I’ll really miss you, too,’ said Takashi. ‘Your father said on the phone that you’ve been meeting up with your ex-boyfriend from Kyoto,’ he said, thinking this was a good time to mention him.
‘Yes, Takashi,’ she replied, looking down at her noodles. ‘We’ve been out a few times … but I don’t think it’s serious.’
Takashi couldn’t see her eyes, and wondered why she didn’t look straight up at him when she said this. He wanted so much to continue this conversation, but his throat was dry and his brain wouldn’t allow him to articulate the words. He knew that if he stuttered and spluttered out a response, he would sound accusing and this would be inappropriate. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. Takashi was obviously uncomfortable and Haruka felt the same. She looked up now and then and gave him the kind of smile a teacher would give a student struggling to learn a new subject. It was a mixture of pity and condescension.
By the time they’d finished eating, it was nearly five p.m. and Takashi didn’t want the day to end. ‘Can I take you home? I’d like to see your family again. It’s not late, and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen your mother,’ he said to Haruka.
‘Sure,’ she replied.
Takashi felt her hand brush against his arm softly and then pu
ll away quickly. He couldn’t tell whether she felt that this was a good idea or not. He was so sure that they’d spent a great day together. There was a definite ease between them, they’d shared a few laughs at lunch and Haruka had been smiling all day. He’d almost felt like her husband as they wandered from here to there, enjoying a day out in Kamakura. Takashi smiled to himself as they both headed back to where the car was parked.
It was just before six p.m. when they reached Haruka’s house on the corner of a narrow street. Her home was fairly large, yet not in any way pretentious.
‘I’m home,’ called out Haruka as she opened the door and removed her shoes at the entrance. Takashi could hear her mother coming towards them from the living room.
‘Where’ve you been?’ Mrs Yoshino cried out cheerfully. ‘We’ve been waiting for you for over an hour.’
‘You knew that I was visiting Kamakura with Takashi today,’ Haruka cried back.
Takashi took off his running shoes and carefully placed them to the side at the entrance, next to a very expensive, stylish pair of men’s Italian leather shoes that did not look like they would belong to Haruka’s father. Doing so, he noticed the hole that he’d forgotten about in his left sock. He pulled at it, trying to move it away from his heel and hide it under his foot.
Mrs Yoshino rushed back to the living room as quickly as she came out of it. Takashi had expected a really big welcome from her, but when she saw him, she only gave him a slight smile and a pert nod, as if they’d only met once before and they were practically strangers. He’d often spoken to Mrs Yoshino when she’d answered his phone calls, and he’d always received a warm welcome in the past when he’d visited her home. Disappointed, Takashi hung his head. He thought afterwards that he must have looked a little like a sulking child as he followed Haruka into their large living room.
Sitting in the Yoshino’s plush leather sofa, drinking oolong tea was Yuriko. She was wearing a silver T-shirt and white jeans. She was sitting next to a man a few years older than Takashi that he didn’t know. He thought that it was probably the “ex-boyfriend” from Kyoto. Mr Yoshino sat next to them in an armchair, reading the Yomiuri newspaper. He glanced up and gave Takashi a pleasant smile and a nod as he entered the room. Although his hair was now white and thinning, he certainly looked a lot healthier than the last time Takashi saw him.
Tokyo Hearts: A Japanese Love Story Page 6
