by C. P. Santi
“Actually, this is my order.” He pulled the plate closer and she squealed in alarm. They both laughed and agreed to share.
Ethan stood up. “Hey, guys! We have to hurry if we want to make our reservations at the karaoke-kan next door.”
Nooo. Not karaoke. Please, not karaoke.
“Karaoke?” Aya croaked.
“Yeah, didn't April tell you?”
Aya looked down the table to where April was teasing Roy. “She must have forgotten.”
“Oh. Well, you guys up for it? It’s only for a couple more hours.” Ethan looked at Ryo.
“Actually—” Aya tried to segue into an apology, but Ryo beat her to it.
“Sure. What’s a goukon without karaoke? Right, Aya?”
“Uh . . . yeah, sure.” She stabbed another bite of her dessert.
Kill. Me. Now.
+ + +
“Daijobu?” Ryo asked as they trailed behind the boisterous group headed toward nearby karaoke-kan.
“Huh?”
“You looked a bit panicky about karaoke.”
“Of course not!” Aya frowned.
“Sou? You looked close to crying in there.” He nudged her with his elbow.
He sure was observant. Glancing to make sure they weren’t overheard, she whispered, “I can’t sing.”
“Not everybody can sing. Karaoke is more like a group chanting activity.”
She stopped on the sidewalk and shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. Half the guys in there are Filipino.”
“So?”
“So they’re probably good singers. And I . . . I really can’t sing.”
“You can’t be that bad.”
“Trust me, I am. My high school music teacher even had me do a special project just so I wouldn’t have to sing.”
Ryo started to laugh, but quickly masked it as a cough when Aya glared at him. “You should’ve told your senpais about it.”
“I thought it was just dinner! They didn’t say anything about karaoke!” Her eyes filled with panic. “Maybe I can say I don’t feel well.”
“C’mon, we’re a large group, you might not even get to sing.”
“You think so?”
“Sou! Don’t worry, I got you. After all, you’re baking me more cookies.” Laughing, he nudged her again.
“Uh, thanks?” Aya rubbed her arm. Ugh. I’m annoyed, not kilig.
Yeah, right.
When they entered, Ethan was at the counter, speaking to a clerk. After a few minutes, they were led to a corner room on the fourth floor. Though it had an amazing view from the wide windows, the room was a bit cramped. It was clean, but the décor was clearly a throwback to the eighties. The only modern-looking thing was the karaoke machine itself.
Wasting no time, Ethan and Joy passed around the microphones, songbooks, and electronic controllers. After a few minutes, a waiter brought in a round of drinks.
They all raised their glasses and cheered, “Kanpai!”
“It’s nomihodai, guys, so drink up!” Ethan announced as he cued the first song.
“Nomi-what?” Reggie asked.
“Nomihodai. It means drink all you can,” Junya explained. He handed Aya a glass, “Try this, Aya. I ordered cassis orange for you.”
“Arigatou.” Aya smiled as she accepted the glass.
Beside her Ryo muttered, “Careful with that, I don’t want to have to carry you home again.”
Ignoring Ryo, Aya turned to face Junya. “So Junya, what do you like to do for fun?”
“I love anime.” Junya told her. “Do you watch any?”
“I’ve seen Naruto and some Miyazaki,” Aya told him, “My younger sister loves watching them. I’ve been trying to watch more since I got here.” One of her senpais had recommended animes and dramas as a fun way to improve fluency, so Aya had been watching more TV.
Junya nodded. “Anime is a big part of Japanese culture.”
“Aya wants to attend a cosplay event,” April told him.
“Ah sou? There’s a big cosplay event in Yoyogi next weekend, would you like to go?” Junya asked Aya. Then, scratching his head, he turned to April and Reggie, an embarrassed look on his face. “Of course, everyone is welcome to come too.”
“I’d like that.” Aya smiled at him. “Reg, April, you guys want to come?”
Suddenly, Melba thrust a microphone in Aya’s face. “C’mon, Aya! It’s your turn!”
Aya glanced at the screen. The machine was queuing up a Katy Perry song. Everyone clapped and hooted, as they egged her on. Her palms went damp. This was a disaster.
She really hadn’t been kidding about her musical skills. Or lack thereof. If anyone was thinking of asking her out, she was sure they’d have second thoughts after this ordeal.
“Maybe somebody else first?” Aya tried to pass the microphone to Gaby.
“No, no! We want to hear you!” Gaby shook his head.
“Oh. I’m not really . . . oh!” Aya stared down in disbelief. Rivulets of cold liquid ran down her arm.
Beside her, Ryo’s face was full of contrition. “Sorry! I’m not usually so clumsy.”
“I bet you aren’t.” Aya passed the microphone to April.
The faker. Ryo had accidentally poured half a glass of cassis on her. And it seemed he did it to save her the embarrassment of singing. She didn’t know whether to thank him or throw him out of the window.
+ + +
“I really should kill you.”
Ryo faked a look of shock. “This is the thanks I get after I saved you from singing?”
“Was that really necessary?”
“You didn’t want to sing, did you?” He hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder. “And hey, I got us out of there, didn't I?” he jerked his thumb back at the building they had exited. “Don’t tell me you want to go back?”
“No way!” The vehemence of her reply made them both laugh. But her tone was exasperated as she asked, “Couldn’t you have offered to sing instead of spilling your drink on me?”
Ryo shook his head. “Dame. I didn’t feel like singing.”
“Easy for you to say, you don’t feel all sticky like I do.”
“Ee? I thought you cleaned up in the toilets?”
She shook her head. “You think I showered in there?”
He laughed. “It was only half a glass of cassis orange!”
“Oh, sure! Only half a glass!” She pointed at a vending machine in the distance. “Let’s see how you feel when I pour a can of Asahi over you.”
He only laughed harder. Rolling her eyes, she turned toward the train station.
“Hey, wait up!” He fell in step beside her and nudged her arm. “I am sorry. It was a stupid thing to do.”
“Apology accepted.” She smiled as they headed down the stairs. “But thank you for saving me from a fate worse than death.”
“Anytime.”
They were both standing on the crowded platform when Aya thought to ask, “Hey, I thought you were walking home?”
He shrugged. “You’re changing trains at the university, right? I’ll ride with you until there.”
“But why—?”
Aya’s question was cut off as loud horns blared, signaling the arrival of a train. They stood to the side as people got off the train that had just pulled up. Silently, they filed into the car, finding a spot near the end. It was late, and the seats had been pulled back to accommodate the sizeable crowd.
Aya leaned against the wall while Ryo took off his backpack and tucked it in between his legs.
“I still don’t get why you’re taking the train.” She tilted her head up to look at him.
“You’ll see.”
People rushed to board the train as the warning buzzer sounded. Around them, people shuffled closer and closer, until they were packed almost shoulder to shoulder. The scent of beer and cigarettes mixed with sweat and perfume. The train jerked forward and the standing crowd jolted in unison, struggling to regain their balance.
The subway at rush
hour was definitely not fun.
“Daijoubu?”
She looked up at Ryo. She noticed that he’d angled his body to shield her from the brunt of the crowd. He’d braced one arm on the wall behind her, while his other hand clutched the handrail above.
Nice arms.
Their gazes met and held. She raised a brow in inquiry. “Is this why?”
“This line is really bad at this hour. Just thought you might . . .” He shrugged and looked away. “Well, and I didn’t feel like walking.”
“That’s really sweet of you,” Aya couldn’t stop the slow smile that blossomed on her face when he looked back at her.
He grinned back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, if you got hurt or lost, who’d bake me cookies?”
“Seriously?” She laughed. “That’s all you can think about?”
“Well, there’s also our compe . . .”
The train lurched as it arrived at the next station. The momentum propelled her forward. Stumbling, she bumped into him.
His hand lowered and rested on her back, clutching her to him as she found her balance. Aya thought she felt the heat of his palm through the layers of her clothing.
“Daijoubu?”
His voice tickled her ear and she shivered. She looked up and he was close, close enough that she noticed the tiny mole near the corner of his left eye. Close enough that his warmth and scent enveloped her.
She was mortified to realize that she was leaning on him, her hands clutching his shirt. She let go and righted herself. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’re . . .” He cleared his throat and his hand moved back to the wall behind her. “We get off at the next stop.”
“Okay.”
They spent the rest of the ride in silence. Given how the train was packed with people, Aya wondered if they’d be able to get off. But Ryo, his warm hand firmly clasped around hers, made a path for them. They disembarked just as the warning buzzer sounded.
“I’m going this way.” Aya pointed her thumb toward the opposite end of the long platform.
“Sou.” He fiddled with the strap of his backpack and shifted on his feet. “I’ll just exit here and walk home.”
“All right.” With a shallow bow, she turned away. She’d only taken a few steps when she whirled back around. “Ryo!”
“Hai?” He was almost at the ticket gates, but he walked back toward her.
She retraced her steps and met him halfway. “Ano . . .”
“Yes?”
She ducked her head. “I . . . I just wanted to say arigatou.” Biting her lip, she peeked up at him and smiled. “Thank you for the karaoke save and for helping me on the train.”
He smiled back. “It was nothing.”
“So . . . see you next week?”
He nodded. “Oyasumi, Aya-chan.”
“Oyasumi.”
Chapter 9
It was a lovely day, albeit a bit surreal. On Aya’s left, two girls dressed up as Hatsune Miku preened and waved to a crowd of photographers. On her other side, Rurouni Kenshin chatted with a couple of characters from “Evangelion”. Beyond them, a group of masked kamen riders were busy taking selfies with schoolgirls.
All around, the lush greenery of Yoyogi Park enveloped the sizeable crowd gathered for the Cosplay Festa.
Excited chatter filled the air as people flitted from booth to booth. Anime theme songs blared loudly from speakers. The savory smell of yakitori and takoyaki wafted through the air.
It was a lovely day. Or at least it had been.
How could everything have gone downhill so fast?
Two hours ago, Aya, Reggie, and April had met up with Ethan, Roy, and Junya at Harajuku station. Psyched to attend the Cosplay Festa, they had even come in costume.
It had sounded like a good idea at the time. Attend a cosplay event in cosplay—what better way to get mileage out of the whole thing?
Not wanting to look overly conspicuous, instead of the fluffy Pikachu and Stitch overalls that Reggie and April were wearing, Aya had put together a schoolgirl costume.
It was simple enough---white blouse, black pleated skirt, black ribbon tie, loose cardigan, socks, and loafers. But, as April had teasingly pointed out, though the skirt length was decent, Aya had a lot of leg to display. And that was getting her more attention than she wanted.
For the past few minutes, a group of men had been hounding her. They wore plaid shirts tucked into pressed jeans. Ginormous cameras were slung over their necks and some of the camera lenses they held were as long as Aya’s arm.
They wanted to get her picture.
This was so not happening.
Maybe she shouldn’t have left Junya. But her date had dozed off on a bench, red-faced and drunk, in the middle of the afternoon. Aya wondered how a couple of beers could affect him so. She’d sent a message to Reggie asking for help. Then she’d wandered off to fetch something to help revive Junya. But she’d gotten lost in the crush of people.
“Onee-san, shashin totte ii desu ka?” one of the men called out, asking if he could take her photograph.
Aya shook her head and looked around for help.
“Ne, ne, hitotsu dake yo,” another one pleaded, promising he’d take only one shot.
“Onegai!” still another man begged.
Aya felt trapped. “Sumimasen . . . No please . . .”
Suddenly an arm clamped around her waist and pulled her out of the photographers’ midst.
“Dame! Go! Get lost!” Ryo shouted. The group dispersed, grumbling as they went. He turned to her. “Daijoubu? Are you all right?”
Aya nodded, but Ryo noticed that she was pale. He steered her toward the toilets. “Where’s your change of clothes?”
“Clothes?” Confused, Aya looked down to make sure she was still fully clothed.
Ryo ran a hand over his face in frustration. He unfastened the long-sleeved shirt he’d tied around his waist and handed it to her. “Here, put this on. Did you wear that all the way from the dorm?” When she nodded, he sighed. “People change into costumes at the event. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
Ryo started to walk off, but Aya held back. “But Junya passed out . . .”
“He’s fine. Ethan and Roy called his friends to pick him up. Reggie and April were worried when they couldn’t find you, so I volunteered to look for you.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“C’mon, let’s get you home.”
Aya remained silent as she and Ryo weaved through the hordes of cosplayers and tourists. They passed the band of otaku who had been harassing her. They were now gathered around a pair of maids who giggled as they posed.
“What’s that?” Aya asked suddenly.
Ryo looked over to where Aya was pointing. “That’s the entrance to Meiji-Jingu.”
“Oooh. I’ve never been. Let’s go see!”
“Dame.”
“C’mon, just for a bit. Please?”
“Those puppy-dog eyes don’t work with me.”
“Pretty please?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You can’t manipulate me.”
“I’ll bake you cookies.”
He paused in mid-stride and the conflicting emotions that crossed his face were comical. Finally, he gave a great sigh and muttered, “I’m turning into a damned cookie whore.” He held up a hand when she started to cheer. “But only for a few minutes.”
“Of course!” Happily, Aya skipped on ahead.
+ + +
It was a long walk. Aya had been expecting to see the temple after the first twist in the road. But no, they went up a bridge, through a bamboo grove, another twist, another fork . . . the path seemed to go on and on.
It was a wonder that such an oasis existed in the middle of Tokyo. It was like they had been transported somewhere else.
Suddenly, the path opened up. The green canopy overhead gave way to rows of upright trees. Wooden boards with colorful posters lined both sides of the path. In the distance, she glimpsed the r
ed tori.
Finally! Aya didn’t think she was out of shape, but she was actually close to panting when they reached the chozubachi, the stone basin used for ritual purification.
Ryo handed her a wooden dipper and told her to fill it with water. Together, they washed their hands and swished water in their mouths in preparation for entering the temple complex.
“So what do we do now?” Aya asked as she dried her hands with the handkerchief Ryo had handed her. They walked through the massive wooden gates and up the shallow stone steps. “Is it okay if . . . Oh!”
A priest (Aya wasn’t exactly sure what he was called) in white flowing robes and a large, boxy, black hat walked past. Two women in the traditional wide-sleeved white robes and red flowing trousers walked right behind him, chanting melodiously. Then came the bride and groom, shaded by a large red parasol borne by a shrine assistant who walked behind them. The groom was in formal black robes with striped gray bottoms. The bride was beautiful in pristine white robes. Her elaborate hairdo was draped with a high hood, also in white. Her face was made up traditionally—just as Aya had seen in movies—a light dusting of white, kohl-lined eyes, and cherry-red lips. Her eyes were demurely downcast, but a small smile played on her lips.
A procession of guests followed the couple. Their appearance was a hodgepodge of traditional and modern. Some wore kimonos, and some wore suits and dresses. But they didn’t detract from the spectacle unfolding before Aya’s eyes.
“Wow.” Her eyes, when they met Ryo’s, were wide with wonder.
Ryo smiled back. “Sugoi desu ne. It’s an amazing sight to see.”
Aya nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! And all this.” She waved her hand at the procession that had gone past them. “In the middle of . . .”
“Aya-chan?” Ryo glanced at Aya. She had fallen silent, her hand still awkwardly suspended in the air. “Daijoubu? Are you okay?”
“Ryo!” She clutched at his arm and a wide grin split her face. “This is it! This is what we’ve been looking for.”
“Uh, okay. But we met only last month and it might be too soon to get married.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?”
Aya waved a hand around, almost poking a couple of German tourists walking past. “This! This can be our design concept for the Suntory pavilion.”
