Ozoni and Onsens

by S. J. Pajonas

  I worked up a lather on the washcloth and soaped up both of my arms and shoulders while lost in thought about how I would renovate the retail space in Yasahiro’s building. Yasahiro and I had been talking about our budget and who to borrow money from the last two weeks. He planned to donate money and so would Chiyo. Plus, I had money from Hisashi, the money Etsuko had made before she was killed. It wasn’t a lot of capital, but it was enough to get me started. I was considering buying used furniture and making a few pieces of furniture myself from recycled materials. I had grand plans for a comfortable meeting space, tea and bento boxes, my paintings up on the wall, and a studio space near the back where I could paint. A smile grew on my face just daydreaming about it.

  And that was when I realized the room had grown quiet. I looked up and found most of the women gone and in the baths, but two women were present, and they were both watching me.

  I bowed to them, smiled, and said, “Good morning,” before minding my own business again. I still needed to douse my head in hot water and rinse off before I could move out into the baths, so I refilled the bucket next to my station with hot water. I got lost again in my own daydreams, more comfortable in my head than I was in my body. In my daydreams, I was always a whole person, never scarred, never damaged. It was a safe place for me to be.

  When I finished washing, I moved outside and found an unoccupied corner. The ladies in the baths were quiet, most of them sitting with their eyes closed, and several other women left when I entered, making the scene even more tranquil. I imagined what it would be like to have a place like this at home. Most Japanese bathrooms had a deep tub, but they were nothing compared to this. I loved the extra large tub at Yasahiro’s apartment. It fit us both comfortably, and we’d spent many a night together in there in the last week. I closed my eyes and smiled, remembering the holidays and the previous few weeks since he’d returned from Paris.

  “Excuse me, Mei-san,” a voice jolted me out of my daydream. “Yes, Mei-san. You need to come with me.” The proprietress in her kimono and wooden sandals bowed from outside the baths. “There’s an urgent matter I need you to deal with.”

  “Is it an emergency? I just got in.”

  I glanced around and saw I was the only person in the bath. Had I fallen asleep? Everyone had left so quietly.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. You must come deal with this issue at once.”

  Maybe something had happened to Yasahiro? My heart beat so fast I heard it in my ears. Here I was worried about myself, and I hadn’t thought of anyone else. “Is Yasahiro-san all right?”

  The woman averted her eyes as I stepped out of the bath and used the small washcloth to cover my private parts. She glanced at my back and gasped.

  “It’s okay,” I said to her, wrapping my arm over my breasts. “They’re just burn scars. I was unlucky as a child.”

  Her face froze in a frown, and she turned on her heel and marched into the ladies’ room. I grabbed a towel, dried off, and got dressed in my robe, all under the watchful eye of the proprietress. She said nothing, despite my earlier questions, and dread grew in my belly like springtime weeds.

  I followed her out of the dressing room, and she pointed to a bench in the waiting area. “Wait here, please.”

  Nervousness fluttered in my stomach. What was going on? Had something happened to Yasahiro? I leaned forward to look out the front door, hoping to God I didn’t see an ambulance. The last thing I needed right now was more drama from the police. I’d had just about enough of that, thank you very much.

  The men’s room door swung open, Yasahiro walked out, ducking under the curtains, and I sank into a pile of relief. He did as well, glad to see me.

  “Thank goodness,” he said, sighing and grabbing for my hands. “They told me it was an emergency, and I had to come out right away. I thought something had happened to you.”

  “I thought the same thing.” I stopped talking, pressing my lips together, as the proprietress approached us from her office. Her face sported a stern frown, and my gut twisted with fear.

  Oh no. I flashed back to my childhood and being bullied by people who didn’t care about my feelings. But we were adults now, right?

  “I apologize,” she said, bowing to us both, “but I’m afraid we must ask you to leave. It’s regrettable, but I’ll have someone from our staff help you get ready to go.”

  Yasahiro’s mouth fell open, and he looked between me and the proprietress. “What happened?”

  “I… I don’t know.”

  The proprietress stared at me, and I felt the blood in my head drain into my torso as I pulled Yasahiro to me.

  “You need to leave. I’m sorry. It’s very regrettable,” she repeated, and when she wouldn’t elaborate, dread grew in the pit of my stomach.

  “You know what? It’s okay,” I whispered at him. “We shouldn’t make a scene.”

  “Yes, please,” she said, her head still bowed. “If you don’t make a scene, we’ll be happy to refund you for the entire amount of your stay.”

  Yasahiro shook his head and closed his eyes. “Wait, wait, wait.” He waved his hands in front of his face and pushed away from me. “What happened? We only arrived forty-five minutes ago!” He turned to me, giving the proprietress the cold shoulder. “Did something happen in the baths?”

  “No. Nothing happened. I undressed, washed, and I got in the bath with no issues.” My body heated from my toes straight up to my face. Yasahiro watched my cheeks brighten, and his lips pinched. This was not a look I understood yet. Was he angry with me? Was he upset? I couldn’t tell.

  “I see.” He clipped the statement short, and I closed my eyes, preparing for the inevitable. One of two things could happen. Either he was annoyed with me for being damaged and ruining his holiday. Or he would yell at the woman. Neither of these two options would be good for me.

  “Mei-chan,” he whispered, his hand on my upper arm, “please have a seat.” He squeezed my hand and had me sit down on the bench.

  My heart picked up pace again. What was he going to do? No words had been spoken on the topic of what we did wrong or why. It was unlikely the woman would say anything directly, as this was the way of things in Japan. If Yasahiro did something rash, we might be kicked out of town.

  “What are you…?” I started to ask but halted at the firm shake of his head.

  “Just wait right here, okay? We’ll leave soon.” He turned and pointed at the proprietress. “You, come with me.”

  My body cooled at the sound of his voice. Yasahiro was not someone who bossed around other people. He had a quiet and gentle nature, the kind of person who merely had to smile and ask nicely to get the things he wanted or needed. Even when he was in his busy kitchen, he never raised his voice. This behavior was unprecedented. He had been annoyed with me in the past when I tried to hide that Mom and I were broke and couldn’t afford heat, but he was never maliciously angry. The woman’s eyes widened, and she followed him around the front desk and down the hallway.

  Where were they going?

  He told me to stay put, to sit and wait, but my heart urged me to follow. I had only met Yasahiro a few months ago, and in that time, I had gotten to know him in various circumstances. I wanted to see how he would handle this. Because this was only the first time something like this would happen to us, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

  I peeked around the corner and saw a door swing closed. With the smells of rice cooking and pans clanking emanating from the doorway, it was obvious he had taken the proprietress into the kitchen. I crept up to the door and turned my ear to it.

  “Henri, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we won’t be able to have dinner tonight.” Yasahiro’s voice was sincere and warm. “In fact, we won’t be staying here over the holiday.”

  There was a pause and an abrupt silence as the sounds of cooking stopped.

  “What happened? Was something wrong with the room?”

  “No. Not at all. The hotel is beautiful, and we were excited to stay
here, but it turns out we’re not welcome. I hope you’ll come visit us in Chikata. I know a woman in town who runs a lovely guesthouse.”

  There was a longer pause here, and I was tempted to rise to my tiptoes and look through the small window in the door. What were they doing? Just staring at each other?

  “I don’t know what to say,” Henri said, his voice stern. “You’re not welcome here? How can that be? You’re my guests.”

  “You’ll have to discuss this with your boss.” Yasahiro’s voice changed, becoming more steely toned and rigid. “And that, madam, is how you will lose business. Putting your guests first should be your utmost priority.”

  The proprietress echoed Yasahiro’s icy tone. “Your girlfriend scared all of my other guests, and she sullied my waters with her disgusting body. If anyone is at fault here, it’s you.”

  I sucked in a quick breath and pressed my lips together to stop a flood of tears. So it was me and my burn scars. Why? Why did it always have to be this way?

  “Your lack of compassion for someone who has already been through a very traumatic experience is sickening. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  Yasahiro’s words were just registering in my brain as the door to the kitchen burst open. It startled me so badly I yelped and jumped away, turning to run back down the hallway.

  “Mei-chan,” he said, grabbing for my arm. “I told you to wait back at the bench.”

  “You’re not the boss of me.” A flood of images doused my brain. I saw us vacationing at a beach resort, him in the water and me covered up on a beach chair. I saw us attending swanky restaurant events, other women in sexy backless dresses and me in a dowdy frock. My imagination doomed us. This would never work. I don’t know why I always tried to convince myself it would work, but this incident was just the beginning. “I’m leaving. I’ll figure out a way to get home.”

  I stomped off toward our room, and Yasahiro followed me all the way there. He closed the door while I threw off the bathrobe and bent over my bag, naked and looking for something to wear.

  Yasahiro came over and stood next to me. “Are you leaving me?” His voice was soft and broke on the last word.

  I sighed and didn’t look at him as I pulled on a pair of underwear. “This is just the beginning, you know. Just the beginning of ignorant, awful people keeping you from vacations, big events, and making fun of you in the tabloids for dating someone like me. Is this really something you want to deal with for the rest of your life? Because I can tell you it hurts. It hurts a lot. And there’s no reason you should be subjected to this too. It’s for your own good.” I pulled on a shirt and reached for pair of pants, but his hand came down on mine.

  “Wait. We’re not going to let the actions of some stupid woman tear us apart so easily. Nor will I let all that other stuff bother me either. We’re a team.” He squeezed my hand. “I want us to be a team. The only time I ever want you to break up with me is because I did something wrong, not to save me from you for a ridiculous reason. You need to understand that their opinions mean nothing to me.”

  “Are you so sure about that? Because I’m sure…” I stopped and cleared my aching throat. I wanted to cry, but I had halted tears before they formed by being angry instead. “I’m one-hundred percent positive I’m no good for you and your reputation.” I had believed that from the start, but he had convinced me, for a short while, of the opposite.

  “I’m positive.”

  I deflated, my anger disappearing in a puff of smoke. Hearing the words straight from his mouth, having this way out in the open and not a sad tale about my past, made everything a little better. “I’m sorry. I only want to do what’s right for us.” I turned my face up to him so he knew I was serious. I didn’t want to hurt him or see him harmed because of me.

  “Don’t worry about it. This is a stressful situation, and you always have two different reactions for stress. You either get angry or you withdraw. I actually prefer the anger.” He laughed as he pulled me into a hug. “Let’s get dressed and go to a local café. I want to spend the holiday with you, Fuji-ko.” He pressed his lips against my temple and squeezed me again. “I’ll figure something else out.”

  Chapter Four

  So much for that vacation I was so excited about.

  I paid for coffee and sandwiches and brought them to a little table near the front of the cafe where Yasahiro waited for me while he clicked around on his phone. As I approached him from across the room, I was struck by how in control he appeared to be, even when he wasn’t talking to anyone or doing anything. He was wearing a black turtleneck, his hair a mess, and his glasses on, yet he still looked like he had stepped out of a magazine.

  I set the cups on the table, and he smiled up at me, just a flash of grin before he was looking at his phone again. I sat opposite him and sipped at the warm brew, letting the coffee warm me from the inside out. I had only soaked in the bath at the onsen for maybe five minutes, and it wasn’t enough to keep the winter chill away.

  As I sipped and stared out the window, I remembered Mom and her worried frown. I guessed she’d had a right to be concerned. She was like a barometer for trouble. I should’ve listened to her.

  “Mmm, the coffee is good, no?” Yasahiro asked, sipping with one hand and swiping with another.

  “Sure. What are you looking at?”

  “Other hotels in the area.” He sighed and set the phone down. “I’m afraid I’m a bit of a snob when it comes to accommodations, and most of the five-star resorts are sold out.”

  I kept my smile small. “You don’t say? You? A snob?” I quirked my lips at him.

  “You hadn’t noticed?” He laughed, and we both sipped our coffees to hide our humor.

  “Tell me something…”

  I set my cup down and folded my arms across my chest to keep warm. I shivered and Yasahiro reached into his bag on the floor and handed me a cashmere scarf. I held it up to him before putting it around my neck.

  “See this? It’s nothing but the best of things for you — an upscale, modern, professionally decorated apartment with all the amenities that’s photographed for a Tokyo newspaper; a cashmere scarf from Paris; the finest Italian clothes; only the best ingredients for your restaurant.” He sat still, not reacting to my long list of luxury items he owned. “Why would you want to date me when you won’t even pick up a banana at the grocery store if it has a fleck of brown on it? It hasn’t escaped my notice that I’m probably the most imperfect thing you could ever have.”

  Once I started living with Yasahiro part time, I saw how perfect his world was. I had never known anyone like him, someone without surface imperfections. Deep inside, I knew he had doubts about himself and his career, but those did not extend to his daily life.

  “First of all,” he said, warming his hands on his cup, “I do not have you. One does not own another person. My sense of perfection and… vanity — ” He cleared his throat at this and my face grew hot “— only extends to objects, not people. There’s something so gratifying about a flawless apple or having the exact amount of space in an apartment, or when I cut a hard-boiled egg in half and it’s cooked to perfection. People are flawed. I’m flawed. You’re flawed. There are no perfect people. Trust me. I believed I was going to marry the perfect woman, but it turned out she was rotten inside.”

  I froze at the mention of his ex-girlfriend, Amanda. I tried never to think of her, and he hadn’t mentioned her in weeks, not since we slept together.

  “What’s on the surface doesn’t count. I want the whole package, inside and out, to be worthy of my attention and love. The shiny apple doesn’t make the cut if it tastes like sawdust. The symmetrical box gets rejected if the inside smells like something died in it.”

  “And me?” I picked up my cup again and sipped, the strong, sweet coffee, finally the right temperature.

  “You only had to smile at me and I was hooked.” He tilted his head to the side, and I was charmed by his glasses, casual sweater, and the way he gripped his
mug. I was gone for him.

  My chest ached with pride. “And if I change? What then?”

  “I’m enjoying this philosophical conversation, Mei-chan, but why can’t you accept that I’m attracted to you? Really. I’m not lying.”

  He rubbed his leg up against mine. I was actually quite curious about his mindset and how he made decisions that affected his success, so my questions always delved into how he parsed and acted on the world around him. Plus, somewhere along the way, I doubted my own self-worth (after being laid off or fired five times in a row, how could I not?) so I also wondered why he would consider me a “good bet.” I glanced away from him and out the window. In the end, his answers had little to do with why we were attracted to one another.

  “No, I’m sure you’re not lying.” I smiled at him and squeezed his knee under the table. “I’ll stop. I need to learn to accept things and not question why. There’s not always a concrete answer to every question.”

  “Well, to answer your other question, people change all the time. I do. You do. Learning to accept and adapt to changes is a hard skill to master. But people don’t change overnight, and it’s easier when the change is gradual, unlike a natural disaster striking and turning your world upside down overnight.”

  Living in the land of earthquakes, this was always a fear of mine.

  Yasahiro’s phone rang, a chipper, tinkling tune, while it vibrated away on the table.

  “Ah, good,” he said, smiling at the screen. He swiped his phone on and answered. “Hiromi, thanks for calling me back… Yes, yes, we’re in Hakone, but we’re in a bit of a bind… Well, the hotel we were at is… unacceptable. Unfortunately, the woman who runs it has a major attitude.” He winked at me. So this was our story? “I was hoping you could point me somewhere else?” He paused for a long moment, turning his mug around several times. “Oh wow, that is unfortunate… I see. Really? … Hmmm, okay, let me talk it over with Mei-chan, and I’ll get back to you. Thanks.”

  He hung up, and I leaned forward to get the news.