Jun gave Haruka a peck on her cheek in front of some of her colleagues as they were coming out of the school, and she blushed with the pleasure of them seeing her with such a tall and striking man. He led the way to Harajuku train station, and they sat in silence on the train to Ginza.
At the restaurant, the food was served by a young girl in a very attractive kimono. Jun commented on how lovely she looked and Haruka wished she’d dressed in one of the many kimonos that she owned. She consoled herself with the fact that it would have been impossible, as they’d met after work – and anyway, she thought her black dress was equally flattering.
The sweet wine aperitif and the hot sake that they kept drinking throughout the course of the meal helped quieten the butterflies in Haruka’s stomach. Her expectations for that night meant that she was unable to eat a lot of the exquisite dishes set out before her, as she kept waiting for the moment when Jun would ask her to marry him. She’d worked out that it wouldn’t be very difficult for him to be romantic and go down on one knee, as they were already sitting on the tatami flooring.
They talked about the weather, Tokyo life compared to Kyoto life, her English conversation lessons and her plans to take up the management position in Kyoto, but at no point did Jun lead towards a proposal. Haruka even tried to steer the conversation in the direction of how important it was to find a good husband and how she’d like to have children before she was thirty, but her words fell on deaf ears and Jun kept changing the conversation to talk about his work or something irrelevant such as the cars he’d like to buy.
Haruka enjoyed the meal, but it finished without any indication that he was going to pop the question, and the hot sake was now making her feel flustered and annoyed. They left the restaurant at just eight p.m. Jun asked Haruka if anything was wrong as they headed to the train station to return home, but it would have been presumptuous of her to ask why he hadn’t proposed. The moments that he could have used to ask the most important question in her life were now lost.
Tears welled up at the back of her eyes as she sat next to him on the train back to fune and she fought to regain her composure. She didn’t want Jun to discover her real reason for being emotional on the long train journey. Her mother would be waiting to hear about wedding plans as soon as she walked in the door, and all she’d be able to talk to her about was what she had for dinner. She told Jun she was just really tired and they sat in silence while she wondered whether she should avoid the subject about weddings altogether or be completely honest with her mother and Yuriko when she saw them next. They both knew her so well that they’d know how disappointed she was with the way everything was working out. Haruka tried to feel better with the consolation that she hadn’t said anything to her work colleagues about the proposal.
Obviously, men do take women out for traditional kaiseki-ryri dinners when there’s nothing important to celebrate, she thought to herself as she remembered the conversations she’d had with Yuriko earlier in the week.
Haruka walked through her front door just after ten p.m. and found her mother waiting for her with a look of expectation on her face.
‘Did he propose?’ she asked with caution, noticing Haruka’s glum expression. Haruka shook her head, upset that she may have disappointed her.
‘Not to worry,’ her mother said. ‘I’m sure he’ll propose when the time is right. When I was seeing your father, I had to wait a long time for him to propose. Life was different back then. I had to get to know his family a little bit and all sorts of arrangements had to be made. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. He’s probably going to wait until you move to Kyoto.’
‘Thanks, I needed to hear that. I have to say goodnight. I’m exhausted and my feet are killing me in these heels – I’m going to bed,’ said Haruka.’
‘Goodnight, Haruka,’ her mother replied.
Yuriko texted Haruka twice the following day at work, asking her both times to visit her at home that night so as they could talk about the dinner date. Obviously, she hadn’t talked to Jun when he’d arrived back at their house late the previous evening, thought Haruka. She knew for a fact that he’d planned to leave very early that morning to take the bullet train back to Kyoto.
It wasn’t until about eight thirty that night that Haruka walked into Yuriko’s room to find her exercising on her bike with the usual vigour. The excited look on her face showed Haruka that she expected her to announce that she was now engaged, but Haruka’s tired and disappointed expression quickly told her otherwise.
‘Did he ask you to marry him?’ she asked as she peddled even faster.
‘No, but I think he’s just waiting for the right time,’ Haruka replied reassuringly, as she took a seat in the pink-striped sofa chair. ‘Well, he’s returned to Kyoto now, so I’ll have to wait and see what happens. I’d like to call and chat with him in Kyoto, but he never picks up his phone. It’s strange – he hasn’t even given me his home or work phone number, and so I usually have to wait until he comes to fune to talk with him.’
‘Oh don’t worry about that,’ replied Yuriko. ‘He hardly ever picks up the phone when I call him, and he’s rarely at home because he’s busy all the time with work.’
‘Hasn’t he said anything to you about the engagement?’ Haruka asked her.
‘No, but I don’t expect him to talk about it,’ she replied. ‘Jun is really a very private person. He’d walk out of the room if I asked him about your relationship.’
Yuriko was now puffing quite a bit and slowed the bike down a little.
‘Maybe he’s going to wait until you move to Kyoto to propose,’ said Yuriko.
‘Yes, that’s what my mother and I think,’ Haruka replied.
‘Your mother knows about this?’ exclaimed Yuriko, looking at Haruka with a bewildered expression. ‘I thought we made a promise that we weren’t going to tell anyone else.’
Haruka couldn’t tell her about how her mother had been depressed lately or about the money problems that her family wanted to keep a secret.
‘I had to tell her, Yuriko, she really likes Jun and she’s so happy for me,’ said Haruka.
‘I understand,’ Yuriko said to Haruka. ‘It’s difficult to keep this kind of news to yourself, especially when you’re going to get such a beautiful ring. I would have told the whole world by now.’
‘I want to change the subject – it’s all getting a bit too much for me,’ Haruka said to Yuriko. Haruka picked up one of her Hello Kitty toys and hugged it tight. ‘Your room looks the same as it did when you were four years old,’ she said to Yuriko.
‘Yes, but I like it like this. It’s comforting,’ Yuriko replied.
‘Still, you could at least get rid of the children’s books on the bookcase,’ Haruka suggested.
‘Yes, you’re right,’ said Yuriko. ‘Maybe I should give all the toys and the books to the little girl from the family that lives on the other side of your house.’
‘That’s an excellent idea!’ Haruka replied.
Haruka sat for a while in silence while Yuriko sped up again on her exercise bike and peddled like a mad woman. After ten minutes, she finally slowed down and jumped off the bike. She came over to kneel beside Haruka on the floor. The foundation that was pasted over her face was dripping with perspiration.
‘Why don’t I give you a makeover, Yuriko?’ Haruka said to her. ‘You have so many products in your bathroom that we could use. Come on – it will be fun.’
‘Okay,’ Yuriko replied hesitantly.
She sat on the bathroom stool and Haruka removed the thick spread of make-up with a Chanel cleanser. Most of her makeup and skincare products were bought from Chanel. Haruka wished she had such a selection to make up her face every morning.
Yuriko saw her reflection in the mirror and blushed. Now that Haruka had removed her foundation, you could see the pimples dotted all over her chin and forehead. Haruka smiled back at her with encouragement.
‘I’m going to make you look even more beautiful. You
know, your skin would clear up really quickly if you used less product and went for a more natural look,’ Haruka said to her.
‘You’re probably right,’ replied Yuriko. ‘But I use a lot of foundation as cover up. If I used less, my pimples would be more visible.’
‘Not necessarily,’ Haruka said to her. ‘Have you been thinking about your two-timing ex-boyfriend much?’ she asked Yuriko, changing the conversation hesitantly as she wiped a cotton ball soaked in clarifying lotion over her forehead.
‘Not at all,’ she replied.
‘Really?’said Haruka, not truly convinced that she hadn’t been thinking about him. Yuriko had always been a hopeless romantic and in the past, would often dwell on why a relationship worked for her or why it didn’t go as she’d planned.
‘I’ve moved on from thinking about Ry,’ she said. ‘I’m completely over him.’
‘Well, that’s great,’ Haruka replied, still not totally convinced she was over her feelings for him. Haruka remembered how Yuriko couldn’t stop talking about him when they’d first met.
After applying the clarifying lotion, she chose to apply a light and gentle moisturiser from a choice of four different kinds of Chanel moisturisers that Yuriko had scattered on her bathroom counter. She followed this up with a dewy, luminous foundation, a mineral powder and a soft, peachy blusher. To finish the look, Haruka dabbed her eyelids with a creamy light brown eye shadow and lightly applied black mascara to her eyelashes before finally sweeping over a rose lip gloss onto her lips.
Haruka stood back to admire her work. The transformation was complete, and Yuriko looked much better, apart from her hair, which was looking a little lanky and in need of a good cut and blow dry.
‘That looks fabulous. I actually look better without so much gunk on my face,’ said Yuriko, looking at her face from one angle and then another in the mirror. ‘Even my complexion looks clearer when I don’t apply so much foundation and powder. I think I’m going to do my make up like this from now on.’ Yuriko couldn’t stop smiling at herself, very pleased with the end result.
‘Yes, you look lovely,’ Haruka said to her. ‘I’m going to have to go home now because I’m starving.’ Haruka picked up her bag and headed out of the bathroom towards Yuriko’s bedroom door.
‘Bye,’ yelled out Yuriko, still sitting on the stool, not able to turn away from the mirror.
Haruka left Yuriko’s house and walked home with thoughts of Jun and the engagement and the fact that he hadn’t proposed. Her life was getting complicated waiting for Jun to pop the question. Later at home in her bedroom, she flicked through her bridal magazines again until she fell asleep. Haruka dreamt of a lavish wedding reception with lots of guests, a three-tiered wedding cake and classical music in the background, but it was not Jun holding her hand in the dream – it was Takashi.
CHAPTER 11
A good friend never offends
The weeks went by and Takashi spent his time trying to get through his studies. Although he studied until late, he would take a lot of breaks and it was sometimes two or three in the morning before he slept. He’d never been a morning person, and these late nights allowed him to get through his studies and then sleep in until noon.
He was wrapped up tightly in his futon one Monday morning in November when he was woken up by his mobile phone. It was vibrating against his chest. This sensation, as well as its ringing sound, penetrated his dreams and he pictured the bells of a temple clanging loudly over and over again. Takashi slowly drifted into reality and realised that there were no temples and it was the ring tone on his mobile phone that had woken him from his slumber. He exposed his face to the light of the morning and blinked at his mobile, trying to focus.
The time on the phone showed 10:19 a.m. Takashi picked it up and answered.
‘Moshi moshi,’ he said in a muffled voice and sat up in order to wake himself up a little.
Masaya’s shrill laughter came painfully through the phone, and Takashi held the handset an inch from his ear.
‘You’re studying too hard and putting too much emphasis on exams when you should be chasing girls,’ he said. ‘You’re going to get ill looking at your textbooks all the time.’
Takashi rubbed his eyes and changed the conversation. ‘Thanks for the sunglasses,’ he said.
‘The sunglasses?’ Masaya asked him innocently.
‘From the Loft store,’ Takashi replied.
‘No problem – just remember me when you’re a top executive!’ Masaya joked.
Takashi pulled himself up out of his bed and found himself laughing. Listening to Masaya, he really missed his high school friends.
They were talking for about fifteen minutes – well, actually Masaya was doing most of the talking, hardly breathing between sentences – when he paused for a second, seemingly lost in thought.
‘I have a brilliant idea!’ Masaya suddenly announced.
He’d decided, failing to wait for any agreement on Takashi’s part, that they were going to head for Ginza that very afternoon to eat rice and noodle dishes at Kenji’s restaurant. Takashi was half asleep and he couldn’t get a word in. Before he knew it, he’d been informed that they were to meet in front of the Apple store in Ginza at one p.m., and that there would be no excuses.
The call ended and Takashi remained sitting in an upright stupor for a couple of minutes, looking at the textbooks scattered all over the floor beside his bed. He shook his head, knowing that he’d planned to spend the whole afternoon reading through next week’s class notes, entitled “The Power of Semiotics and Branding Equity”. However, it must have been his eagerness to see his friends or Masaya’s voice beaming through the phone and his cheerful tone that changed Takashi’s mind. He took a quick shower, but spent a little longer shaving to make sure he didn’t nick himself and to get his sideburns just right. After that, he reorganised his study plan to leave a window of time open that would allow him to meet his mates in Ginza. For the first time in weeks, he felt a feeling of refreshment, even before he embarked on this afternoon adventure.
Before Takashi left his apartment, he checked his e-mails. His friend Akira, who was studying in America, had sent a group e-mail. It read:
Hi guys,
Sorry I haven’t been in touch for a while. I’ve been travelling when I’m not studying. My girlfriend from Tokyo and I are going to New York next week. We’re really looking forward to that. Please send me an e-mail when you have the time.
Akira
Takashi printed out a copy to show Masaya and hurried to the station to catch the train to Tokyo.
It was just after one p.m. when Takashi spotted Masaya leaning against the side of the Apple store, not far from Ginza train station. He followed his eye line and saw that he was checking out three girls, all wrapped up in cashmere coats and dripping with gold jewellery. Two of them were applying lipstick and the other was preening her hair. It was not unusual to see people posing in the middle of the street dressed as if they were about to go to a party or a wedding in this upmarket area of Tokyo.
Takashi was fully aware that Ginza was one of the busiest and most expensive shopping districts in the world. This was not a place he would normally frequent to go shopping; it was too pricey for his budget. He knew Haruka liked the area, though. In Ginza he could imagine her and Yuriko browsing through the luxurious Western brands they liked so much, like Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Dior and Chanel. The only shops that interested Takashi and his friends were Sony for the latest gadgets or the Apple store to check out the latest iPad and iPhone. Even though the whole of the centre of Ginza breathed opulence and expense, affordable but very respectable eating holes could be found down the back streets, behind the department stores and designer boutiques. Kenji’s eatery, Umi Gohan, could be defined as one of those establishments.
Takashi called out to Masaya whose face lit up when he saw him. Masaya ran over to catch up with him and they headed away from the main shopping avenue to the corner of Mihara and Azuma Street, where
Umi Gohan was located. They found it quite easily, and Takashi and Masaya passed under the noren curtain and entered into a place full of young office ladies in suits and fashionable female sales assistants enjoying a meal.
The restaurant could easily seat twenty to thirty people at the tables that were lined up on the left hand side. On the right were nine stools where people could eat at the counter. This side bench was covered with several bottles of shochu rice wine, many bearing a tag labelled with the names of regular customers. Alongside the liquor were wooden stands filled with chopsticks and napkins. Next to those were condiments such as seven-spice shijimi and Kikkoman soy sauce. At the register was a Red Cross box for charity donations. The food was brought out from the back and into the middle of the restaurant from the kitchen.
There was only one businessman to be found inside sitting amongst a room full of young ladies: a nervous type eating at a furious pace, as if time was against him.
Masaya and Takashi watched Kenji come out from the back. He was dressed in black jeans and a steel grey polo neck top. Kenji turned to two of the young women, his arms laden with trays of steaming bowls of noodles, and gave each girl a short, cheeky smile as he passed them their lunch. It was then that he swung around and recognised them.
‘What are you guys doing here?’ Kenji asked, laughing. Just as quickly, he remembered where he was and offered them a table second from the front, next to the businessman. Takashi sat facing the window and Masaya sat opposite him.
‘Good to see you here. Sit down, relax and take a look at our menu,’ said Kenji.
They sat back to admire this small but neat and decidedly clean restaurant, of which Kenji was so proud. Once they were seated, Kenji went back to the kitchen.
Tokyo Hearts: A Japanese Love Story Page 11
