Four Seasons in Japan, page 7
‘Oh!’ Sato’s face lit up. ‘That’s wonderful!’
Ayako shot him a sideways glance. ‘Is it?’ She shook her head, before carrying on. ‘He was supposed to arrive yesterday, but for some reason that numbskull travelled on local trains instead of the bullet train, and ended up taking a day extra.’
‘Oh, come on.’ Sato chuckled. ‘That’s not so bad, is it? I did much worse when I was a lad. How old is he?’
‘Nineteen.’ Ayako put her cup down on its saucer. ‘But that’s not the point, Sato-san. Of course I was worried about him when he didn’t arrive on time. But, well, the thing that bothers me is that he stopped over in Osaka.’
Sato’s smile fell, and he crossed his arms.
‘That is a little—’
‘If it had been Kyoto, Kobe or Himeji or anywhere else, I would’ve thought nothing of it.’
‘Hmm, hmm.’ Sato made noises of agreement as Ayako spoke.
‘But there’s just something worrying about his stopping over in Osaka, considering what happened to Kenji there.’
‘I see.’ Sato nodded. ‘But, Aya-chan, it might just be a coincidence, you know?’
‘Oh, I know that!’ She swatted a hand dismissively at Sato. ‘But that still doesn’t make me feel any better about the whole thing, does it?’
Sato merely nodded, knowing there was nothing he could say right now to help.
‘I’m going to crucify that boy when he gets here,’ said Ayako.
‘Oh, Aya-chan.’ Sato laughed. ‘Go easy on him, will you? We were all young once. We all make mistakes.’
‘He’s got to learn, Sato-san.’ Ayako began to stand up and tidy away her cup and saucer. ‘There are consequences for everything in life.’
Onomichi Castle came into focus as Kyo opened his eyes. He must have drifted off. The castle appeared to be floating high above him amongst the clouds. At first, he thought he was still dreaming, but then he saw the mountain it was perched atop of.
‘The next stop is Onomichi. Onomichi. Doors on the right-hand side will open,’ came the Crow Conductor’s crackly voice over the tannoy. ‘Onomichi. Next stop, Onomichi. Be careful when alighting the train and please don’t forget any of your belongings. Thank you for riding JR West, and we hope to see you again soon.’
Kyo grabbed his backpack quickly, yawning and stretching as he stood and waited for the train to come to a halt.
The doors slid open, and he stepped lightly off the train.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and only a handful of people got off at the same time as him – even fewer were waiting on the platform to board the almost-empty train bound for Hiroshima.
Kyo made his way slowly out of the station, letting others go through the barriers ahead of him. There was a man on the gates who was manually taking tickets from passengers, bowing and thanking each one in turn.
Unbelievable. In Tokyo there was no way anyone could do that kind of job. And anyway, most people had Suica cards which they just tapped on the IC panels to go through the automated barriers. Even people with paper tickets fed them into the machines and passed through the same way. No need for this poor sod with a beer belly and glasses to be taking tickets from people and thanking them each individually. He looked a bit like a tanuki racoon dog with his huge glasses slipping down his nose and that big belly poking out over his belt.
What was this backwater place he’d come to?
As Kyo handed his ticket to the station worker and passed through the gate, he looked up in surprise as the man addressed him directly.
‘’Ey, mister … scuse me, sir?’ said the Tanuki, peering through his glasses at Kyo, after studying his ticket.
‘Yes?’ Kyo paused awkwardly outside the gate; the man’s Hiroshima dialect was thick and his accent strong, making it difficult for Kyo to decode what he’d said.
‘S’awfully ruder me ter ahsk, loik, but did’ya come frum Tokyo?’
A shock went through Kyo’s body. Why was this man asking him a question like that? His accent was almost incomprehensible.
‘Umm, no?’ responded Kyo, technically not lying, because he’d come from Osaka that morning.
‘Ya’sure?’ The man eyed him up inquisitively through his glasses, which were slipping down his nose again.
Kyo felt a hot flash of rage. Who the hell did this tanuki think he was, to question a passenger like this? Was Kyo under police investigation?
‘I came from Osaka this morning,’ said Kyo, a little defiantly.
‘Osaka, eh?’ The man nodded. ‘Strange, cos ya ticket says Tokyo onnit, andya don’t ’ave an Osaka accent … F’I’ad ter placeya, I’d sayya sounded more like a Tokyo man ter me …’ Tanuki must’ve noticed Kyo’s face turning a burning crimson as he spoke because he suddenly changed tack. ‘But whadda I know, eh?’ He laughed to himself.
‘Is there any particular reason you’re asking me such personal questions?’ Kyo folded his arms, speaking in his politest register.
The ticket collector realized he’d made Kyo angry, and straightened his posture, switching to standard Japanese.
‘I’m terribly sorry, sir, for my rudeness.’ He bowed low.
‘That’s all right,’ said Kyo, feeling guilty for being prickly.
‘Please forgive me, sir,’ the man continued. ‘It’s just that one of my friends is expecting her grandson, visiting from Tokyo, and I said I’d keep an eye out for him. You sort of matched the description she gave, but please accept my humble apologies.’ He bowed even lower this time, almost scraping his nose on the ticket gate.
‘That’s okay,’ said Kyo, feeling awful now for losing his temper. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
Kyo turned on his heels and walked quickly away from the exchange. He heard the ticket man mumbling to himself again in dialect.
Kyo shivered.
Would he ever get used to the way they spoke down here?
‘Hello?’ Ayako picked up the café’s phone on the second ring.
‘Ayako-san?’ came the crackling voice of what sounded like Station Master Ono over the line.
‘Ono-san?’
‘Yes, it’s me. How did you guess?’
‘Any news?’
‘He arrived. At least, I’m pretty sure it was him.’
‘Are you sure?’
Ono paused, and sighed deeply. ‘Umm, I could see the family resemblance, Ayako, if you know what I mean …’ He trailed off awkwardly.
Ayako’s heart beat faster, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Did you speak to him?’
‘I did, although he seemed a bit taken aback by my questions. He’s quite the well-spoken young Tokyo gentleman, isn’t he? I felt awfully uncouth, speaking to him in our dialect. Said he came from Osaka, thank you very much, and not Tokyo – but I could tell from the way he spoke he’s a Tokyoite.’
‘Ah, it’s got to be him. He stopped over in Osaka last night.’
‘That’ll be where the confusion came in. Must’ve thought I was asking where he came from this morning. My fault for asking the wrong questions.’
‘Did you see where he went?’
‘He kind of wandered out the front of the station, stopped at the water’s edge for a bit, then made his way towards the shotengai covered market. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was on his way to the café.’
‘Thank you so much, Ono-san. I very much appreciate it.’
‘Most welcome. Don’t mention it.’
Ayako hung up the phone, and felt better. It had to be him.
But she still couldn’t focus on what she was doing. Now, instead of waiting for the phone to ring, she glanced at the door every few seconds. She ignored the idle chatter of her final few lunch customers, and instead kept listening for the tinkling ring of the bell on the door.
The first impression that struck Kyo about the town was how dead it was. Hardly any people.
And the ones he could see were so old they may as well be dead.
Boring. So boring. The only sounds he could hear were the dings and chimes of the train station. He moved away from the ticket barriers, slowly and laboriously stepping over a stretch of grass towards the sea. He came to the shore-front and looked out across the waters. Was this really the sea lazily lapping against the concrete? It looked more like a lake. Kyo had been on seaside daytrips with his mother from Tokyo to places like Kamakura, Chigasaki, Enoshima, and there he’d seen the waves crashing dramatically against rocks, sending white spray into the air.
But now, looking out across the Seto Inland Sea, it didn’t move. It just sat there, still. Boats drifted back and forth across the small estuary, and on the other side of the water he saw the docks with ‘MUKAISHIMA DOCKYARD’ written on the buildings in huge letters. How original. The ancient yokels must’ve named the island literally – Mukaishima – ‘that island over there’. It now looked industrial, rusted and run-down. Most of this town seemed to be rusting, decaying, or just generally falling apart.
How was he going to live here?
He shook his head, and strode off towards the shotengai.
On his way, he came across a bronze statue of a woman wearing a kimono, crouched down low next to an old wicker suitcase with an umbrella propped on it. Kyo read the plaque: Hayashi Fumiko.
What the hell was that supposed to be?
So naff. So boring. So uncool.
He walked past shuttered shops. Elderly people with tired postures waddled past him now and again. Their backs bent – spines almost at ninety degrees to their legs – they walked with assistance from pushcarts, their heads facing down at the ground. Still, when Kyo passed by, they somehow noticed his presence, and would sing out with a friendly ‘Konnichiwa!’
Kyo reluctantly returned the greeting.
Did everyone talk to each other all the time in this town?
Kyo walked for a little while, and rapidly found himself emerging from the covered market street and approaching a residential area. Already? But he’d only been walking for a few minutes, and he’d made it from one side to the other. Was the town really that small?
He stopped at a vending machine and bought a can of coffee, cracking it open and squatting down to check his phone. His mother’s LINE messages gave strict instructions to go directly to Grandmother’s café, rather than her house. An awful dread swilled around his stomach with the coffee. He was going to get chewed out.
He knew it.
He fired up a couple of social media apps one after the other and scrolled through photos his classmates had posted: of their new university dorms, their matriculation ceremonies, the new cities they were living in, the impressive university buildings they now attended, the friends they were making. When he saw a photo of his ex-girlfriend, Yuriko, wearing a formal kimono for the entrance ceremony of her course in medicine at a prestigious Tokyo university, he paused. Of course, Yuriko would have to show off by wearing a kimono, unlike her classmates. His thumb hovered over the image and he felt a stabbing jealousy in his abdomen.
Kyo sighed.
He clicked the three dots above her picture, and selected ‘Mute’ from the pop-up menu.
His battery was about to die. He had to move on.
Kyo finished his coffee and looked at his watch – 4 p.m. – already much later than he said he’d be. He made his way back down the covered market to his grandmother’s café.
He walked as slowly as he could, but eventually reached the door.
‘CAFÉ EVER REST’ said the sign in large letters. It had a mountain painted on it.
Kyo sighed once more, and pushed the door open gently.
A bell jingled softly above his head.
‘Irasshaimase!’
Ayako called out the standard shopkeeper’s greeting without looking up. Despite the fact she’d been eyeing up the door since Ono’s call from the station, when the bell did ring, she robotically called out the greeting without raising her eyes.
‘Grandmother?’ came a sheepish voice from the doorway.
Ayako looked up, and saw him.
She dropped the cup she was holding in her hand, and it smashed on the floor.
She raised both hands to her face momentarily, in shock.
There he was.
A young boy of nineteen, with the same eyes, the same chin, the same mouth.
His hair was cut in a newer style, but there he was.
‘Please let me help you clean that up, Grandmother,’ he said.
And when he spoke, Ayako came back to herself. This boy speaking perfect standard Japanese, with a slight Tokyo affectation, was not her Kenji. Kenji had spoken Hiroshima dialect.
Kenji was long gone now.
This was Kenji’s son.
Her grandson.
And she was supposed to be angry with him.
‘Leave it,’ she snapped at the boy as he tried to help her clean up the broken shards of the cup. ‘Just sit down there and keep quiet. You’ve caused enough trouble.’
Kyo handed the broken pieces he’d already picked up to Ayako, and sat down at the table she’d pointed at. All of the customers had left before he’d arrived, and Ayako had been clearing away and closing up the café. As she picked up the pieces, her anger simmered like a pot of curry on the boil. She’d let her emotions exhibit themselves – she’d shown that she was worried, that she cared deep down. She’d even smashed one of her lovely china cups, which would have to be replaced. She’d been manipulated into caring, and this made her feel all the angrier.
Well, she would remain silent while she finished her chores.
Kyo watched his grandmother as she tidied away.
He’d seen a flash in her eyes when she’d caught sight of him for the first time. Was it relief? Love? Something had flickered across her face, but it had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Now all he saw was her stony expression as she slammed around the shop putting cups, plates and bowls away, occasionally moving him out of the way to sweep up. And deep down inside himself, he felt a rising sense of guilt and shame for making her worry.
She left the café wordlessly, and Kyo followed behind. They walked the streets in silence, although each time they passed people they would all greet Ayako, and she would respond politely, ignoring their intrigued expressions as they looked at Kyo questioningly. Ayako had no intention of filling anyone in, and she kept walking a few paces in front of him. As they were walking up the hill to her house, she finally broke the silence.
‘Absolutely irresponsible,’ she said suddenly. ‘You didn’t call. You didn’t let anyone know.’
Kyo walked glumly alongside her.
‘When you make a promise, you’re supposed to keep it,’ she said, stopping to stroke a black cat with one eye who was perched on a Honda Super Cub motorbike; she continued to berate Kyo as she fussed the cat. ‘I’ve never heard of such stupidity. You had your poor mother worried sick. Not me, I don’t give a toffee what happens to you. But did you ever stop and think about your poor mother’s feelings? No. Because you’re selfish. You’re a selfish, irresponsible boy.’
Kyo remained silent, listening to her rage away. Eventually she would have to subside.
They came to an ancient stone wall with a door in the middle. She continued to rant and rave, pushing down on its huge rusty iron handle. The hinges squealed as she leant her entire body weight against the door, swinging it open. They passed through into an enclosed garden, which surrounded and enveloped a beautiful traditionally built wooden house with shiny new ceramic tiles on its roof.
They stepped through the genkan entranceway, into the cool interior. She finally looked him in the eyes and demanded, ‘Well, what have you got to say for yourself?’
He paused and bowed low. ‘I’m sorry, Grandmother. I’ll never do it again.’
‘Too right you won’t,’ she shot back quickly, jabbing a finger at his chest. ‘Go ni haitte wa go ni shitagae – When entering the village, abide by the village rules.’ So, she liked to speak in proverbs. ‘We shan’t be having any more of that nonsense while you’re living with me. Got it?’
‘Yes, Grandmother.’
‘Good. Now ring your mother.’
‘Yes, Grandmother. I just have to charge my phone.’
‘Charge your phone? Don’t be foolish – use the house phone!’
‘I need to check my messages on my phone, to see if Mother has sent me a message on LINE.’
‘Useless.’ Ayako shook her head. ‘Do as you will, but you’d better be speaking to her within the next five minutes, or there will be trouble in this house.’
Kyo stepped into the small tatami room he would now call his own.
He put his bag down on the floor, briefly noticing a hanging scroll in the corner.
It was while he was rooting in his bag for his phone charger that he discovered the envelope of money was missing.
They didn’t talk much for the rest of spring.
Ayako kept to her own routine, mostly ignoring the boy. As long as he attended his classes at the cram school, she didn’t have anything to say to him. After not only his tardy arrival, but also the debacle with the lost envelope of money that had followed, she’d made the decision to give him a good old case of the silent treatment. Of course, she’d heard him crying in his room softly on his first night at her house, and it had upset her – she wasn’t heartless. But it wouldn’t do to go in there and show him any sympathy. No, better to let him suffer a bit for now. Meanwhile, she would take action and fix the situation. The next day she’d gone early to see Ono-san at the train station, to thank him for calling, and then mentioned in passing the lost envelope. He’d swung by the café later that day with it. As expected, it had been found on the train by a passenger and handed in at Hiroshima Station. A colleague of his had sent it back down the line with a conductor. Ayako had given Station Master Ono his coffee and a plate of curry on the house, by way of thanks.
The foolish boy had put it in a side pocket of his backpack at some point during his journey, and it had fallen out. It was lucky Setsuko had the sense to write the fool’s name and Ayako’s Onomichi address on the envelope. Given that touch, Ayako assumed Kyo’s mother had dealt with situations like this before.
