Sunday, April 30, 2006

i was ever accused of being fickle, of being easily swayed by others.

the reason was that i like both germany and japan.

those people would have freaked out if they know i like spain, holland etc etc too. and i am not talking about football, actually.

then the other day, hq was saying some people think that you shuldnt be doing double degrees cos it sort of undermine the value of ur degrees, and sort of convey the idea of you not being able to make up ur mind.

today, after soccer, at lunch, this "senior" was telling us that it would be good if we know what we awnt to do in the future. and i asked him, did you know what you were going to do when youwere our age. his answer was no.

there are many ways to look at things. from the 20th floor or the 2nd floor, from the front or from the back. and i remember in sophie's world, there was this thing about life and death being two sides of a coin: u need to know one to appreciate the other. if you are going to die, you will appreciate life better; if you are living, you will wish you are dead, to be free.

but sometimes, i wonder: why do you want to force yourself to choose if you can have everything? pointless, isnt it? just to prove you are decisive, you know what you want? i do think we will change. what you want to do today, you might shun tomorrow. there is just no 100 percent in this world.

some people spend their whole lives in the right place.
some people spend their whole lives searching for the right place.
some will find it in the end;
some never.
but some people spend their whole lives in the wrong place.

i'd rather be the one searching for my entire life than be in the wrong place.

if i am easily swayed by others, i would be listening to hell lot of english songs now lar. idiots. it's true my brother exposed me to jap stuff, but i think i took it to anotehr level. and that is after careful thought. not just blind following. i DO think, ok. i dun like to accept things as they are. wisdom comes from within. think socrates said that. meaning you must discover it yourself, not be spoonfed. you must process it yourself to understand.

and i still believe that if you can have both vanilla and chocolate, you don't have to force yourself to give up one. that's just so dumb. and i dun believe you cant like two very different things.

of course there is always the otehr way of looking at things.

sometimes, it's not that you don't know the otehr side of things. it's just that you keep quiet about it. because you can't really reject it. because deep down, you know it's true too. just that you prefer this side. at the moment.

***

i was watching aya ueto's ai no tameni when i realised one of her hairstyle in the mv was the hairstyle of this girl i saw at the busstop this morn. this is the 2nd sunday in a row i saw the girl with 2 otehr girls. maybe her sisters or wad. anyway that isnt impt. but i think alot of people are also sporting that hairstyle too. ok, maybe it has been like this all along, but i suddenly realised.

it's jsut one of those things that you know all along, deep down, but you dun realise it. till one day you are reminded.

***

must there be a reason to everything?
i am in the wrong place.
i watched two videos of glay's live performances of however. the first one, teru sang till he cried. and some people were crying too. the second one, when they start to play the music, when the people realise it was however, they started crying.

i like that kind of open air concerts. reminds me of the one i went to in stuttgart. it was held at this koenigplatz, which is sort of like a square. it's just so cool. imagine a concert with glay, remioromen, gackt, gazette, silbermond, juli, b'z, etc etc. WOW.

anyway, about silbermond, the vocalist stefanie was in a choir.

and the tokyo friends video, the one where ai otsuka was singing the boo bee benz song "to me", i think i have seen that place where it took place before. i think it is harajuku, either the bridge area where the people dress up as anime/manga characters. or it could be outside tokyo dome. i think maybe outside tokyo dome, because there is sort of a mall in the background at one pt in the video, and there is a mall at tokyo dome.

those eyes

after soccer, kc wk and i went to peninsula to try to find my nederland jacket. or sweater. or wadeva u call that. to no avail. we found it, actually. but it's 139 bucks, and they wun cut it to below 100, which is my budget. i tink i would be mad to buy it lar. then we went to quite a few places, but still cant find it.

chemistry is maybe the most important thing in a team. and really, i have reached the point, whereby winning or losing isnt important, but the style of play. it's really like even if you dun score, you hit the post or just miss or din manage to connect with the ball, but if the movement was nice, i think you will still smile, with a tinge of ruefulness, and also joy. because you were part of something very nice. it's more important to play in a manner you believe in, and in a manner you would be proud of.

of course there is no 100% in this world. if we lose the champions' league final, it would be too much for me to take.even if we play damn stylish, even more stylish than ronaldinho. and the worst thing is that i have calculated wrongly. dead wrong. i thought all along that it would be at the end of may, 30th. it is on 17 may. i wont be able to watch it. i won't be by my team's side. and that really hurts alot.

and i was walking home just now when i got styled. there are only two kinds of eyes that are stylish. one is the chung-lee-siang type. the kind that is very sharp, alert, bores through you. with a tinge of arrogance and nonchalance. the other kind is that kind that is abit dreamy, a little soulful. but both have that kind of "oh really?" feeling. it was the latter which i saw. i think i have only seen that kind of eyes three times.

those eyes that talk.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

perfekte welle by juli:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4janyg4Dsvc

if my german doesnt fail me, the song is jsut this message to this guy to wake up, to detach himself from the breakup, to move on. there's this part: ich bin hier, ich bin frei.(i am here, i am free). it's damn nice. it's like eva(the lead singer) calling out to the guy, whoever that is, to shout this out, to free himself.

free yourself.

went to modesto to eat and watch man utd lose 3-0 to chelsea. ok the game was quite lousy. wasnt really beautiful. and man utd was quite disappointing; ferguson may say they had chances etc etc, that the scoreline din reflect the run of play or wad, but the fact was still that they were dominated. and you get the impression that man utd is all about wayne rooney, and that the rest of the team isnt good enough for wayne rooney.

and when rooney got stretchered off, there were concerns, because it is world cup year. 41 days to go.

and i was thinking, if rooney is out of the world cup, england can kiss the world cup goodbye. even though i don't believe that england can win the world cup, i always say that the important thing is to get into the world cup, because once you are there, anything can seriously happen. it doesnt matter whether u r the top of the 32 teams or the bottom, you are there, anything can happen. but what is most important is to enjoy the tournament. this is the world cup analogy i like to use to drive my message across, that sometimes ranking isnt that important, as long as you are in.

despite this analogy, i still don't believe that england can win the world cup. neither can angola, for example. even though things with a probability of 0.0000000001 can still happen. again it shows that there really isnt 100 percent in this world. anyway i am digressing.

back to rooney, england and the world cup. if, a very big IF that england win the world cup, it will all boil down to rooney. frankly, i dun believe lampard is half as fantastic as people say he is. he has never impressed me. of cos he got good shooting abilities, but most of the time, he isnt in the game, maybe due to chelsea's style of play. liek today, there was one occasion when he got the ball, and i realised that he WAS playing. gerrard is good, he is a very big player for liverpool, but he cant win the tournament. he can pop up and score important goals, make important plays, but he wun win the world cup for u. the most important player is the playmaker. rooney is that playmaker for england, the matchwinner. the one whom you can count on to have that one moment of magic, one moment of brilliance to win the game. even if he has an off game, i will still keep him on the field, because i noe he jsut needs one touch. the central midfielders play very important roles, but they are limited. and mostly, they rely on team effort. the whole team must play well together. to win a tournament, you need to score goals. the playmaker creates and scores. that is why he is the most important man. and he is different: he alone can make the difference; he doesnt need the whole team to play well.

nevertheless, i believe rooney will recover for the world cup. the test results arent yet though.
david villa scored a hattrick in the last 10 minutes of the game against bilbao. 10 minutes of madness for bilbao, 3-0 for valencia.

frankly, i dont think we can catch barcelona.

it's amazing how juve's 14 pt lead is now cut to only 3 in italy.

anyway, back to valencia. villa's 3rd goal was stunning. regueiro cut in from the left, then played the ball to mista, mista could have scored, he squared it to villa for villa's hattrick. how unselfish!

villa is turning out to be the signing of the season for valencia. maybe in the la liga too. he just keep scoring. no wonder mista is on the bench.

regueiro is also turning out to be a gem, in vicente's absence. but i still hope vicente will come back quickly and play in the world cup, though that looks highly unlikely now. and now he has to come back to win back that left wing position from regueiro.

and of course it's the dream final in paris, come may 17.

heard that we didnt play well, we were defending all the way against villareal. then lehmann saved riquelme's penalty. my first thought was: it's god's will.

anyway, it wasnt the way i wanted us to go into the final; we should have done it with more class. but i thought about what ruud krol said: we could play every kind of football. we could play tough. we could play technical.

think about it.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

i am watching nakashima mika's glam sky, accoustic version on music station special.
there's this part at the start, the deep sky part, after she sang it, den the music went on abit, den she was like nodding to the music, then she turn to teh side and smile that kind of half stylish, half acknowledging smile. so cool.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

last christmas, half light, collide, that thing you do, accidentally in love. inside outside.

you are beautiful. i don't want to miss a thing.

half life, ocean avenue, open arms, this love, almost here. yellow. live twice.

untitled.

***

yesterday, the sky was beautiful. it's like split into distinct sections. there was a section which was dark, and in the middle was this column of cloud, so white, it almost shone. then, there was another one, golden yellow. a third was of a very light blue. the fourth was a very dark blue. the fifth was like pink in colour.


so, that is how two people can be standing at the same spot, looking at different skies.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZkvvJ9aOEIM

To Me (boo bee benz/ otsuka ai)
ねぇ、君は誰?
nee, kimi wa dare?
hey, who are you?

どうしてそんなところで ひざを抱え込んで泣いてるの?
doushite sonna tokorode hiza wo kakaekonde naiteruno
why are you in that sort of place, hugging your knees and crying?

ああ君はいつかの僕だ
aa kimi wa itsuka no boku da ...
you are the way I am sometimes

自分だけ 置いてきぼり 悲しいんだね
jibun dake oitekibori kanashiin da ne
you're sad from being the only one left behind, aren't you?

風と緑と戯れたっけな
kaze to midori to zaretakkena
frollicking with the wind and greenery

裸足で噛んだ大地はやさしくて
hadashi de kanda daichi wa yasashikute
the earth is kind upon your bare feet

夢を描いた 果てしないまま
yume wo egaita hateshinai mama
the endless sketched dream as it is

いつか途切れると知らないまま
itsuka togireru to shiranai mama
as it is not knowing that it would end someday

誰もがそれぞれに痛みを背負って
dare mo sorezore ni itami wo seotte
everyone carrying with them pain; as individuals

繰り返す今日を必死で生きてる
kurikaesu kyou wo hisshi de ikiteru
desperately living the repetition of today

上手に歩けるさ
jyouzu ni arukeru sa
able to walk skillfully...

コンクリート道の上
konkuriito douri no ue
upon the concrete streets

土と風のにおいに 振り返りながら…
do to kaze no nioi ni furikaeri nagara
the fragrance of earth and wind causing you to look over your shoulder

君が君自身を信じれないでさ
kimi ga kimi jishin wo shinjirenai de sa
you can't believe in yourself...

だれが君のことを信じるかい?
dare ga kimi no koto wo shinjirukai?
who would believe in you?

自信を持っていいはずさ
jishin wo motte ii hazu sa
it should be ok to have confidence...

もう一度勇気を振り絞る
mouichido yuuki wo furishiboru
one more time, muster up courage


what are we looking for?

he pushed the ball forward a little, then swung his foot, hitting the ball. the ball swerved forward.

"good ball!" someone shouted.

he shook his head. "the sound isn't right."

he tried again.

"good ball!"

"too much weight." he shook his head again. "it had to be just right."

and he went on kicking the balls. trying to find the perfect pass.
***

she was mixing the colours again. trying to find that perfect blue.
***

there were many places which sold good maguro-don. but he was still looking for the one that taste the same as the one he had eaten two years ago.
***

he was pouring away the soup stock, making a new one. the taste wasn't right.
***

sorrow, sadness, misery, melancholy. somehow, none conveyed the feeling she wanted. she was still looking for the right word.
***

"her eyes are pretty enough."

"but they aren't right." he was obsessed with finding that right eyes for the commercial.
what is pain? what does it feel like? can you tell me?

Saturday, April 15, 2006

arsenal beat west brom 3-1. watched the first half at galileo and friends at cinei there. it's quite a nice place to chill. tv, games and all that. and its the best place to go if you don't like alcohol, i guess.

anyway, hleb scored on the 44th minute. it was a good goal. he faked the player coming in, den exchagned a one-two before blasting into the roof of the net from a tight angle. and i can't describe how happy i am when he scores. because hleb is the player i followed from his stuttgart days. he is the player they call the sorceror in germany. i know he can play, i know he's good enough for arsenal, i know he suits arsenal. and i was very happy when he came. but people started saying nasty things when he didnt really set the epl alight. but they forget that its his first season. he's getting used to the epl now, though you can see that it's in europe when he really shines, because the style of play there allows him to have more space to roam. anyway, ja, i am very happy to see him starting to look like aliaksander hleb again.

it always feels good to be right.

just like movies. i realise i don't watch alot of movies. i think it is partly because my taste is really quite different. but i cant really think of a movie which i watched because i really wanted to watch and ended up feeling disappointed. maybe geisha is one. but i guess that's about it. those which i really want to watch, those which i ahve singled out, havent let me down. is it because i understand myself very well, or is it because i am lucky, or is it because most movies are good, so it's very liekly u dun get let down?

anyway watched art of seduction. realised son ye jin was inside. shes sorta my fave korean actress. i realised i watched like 5 of her movies. classic, crazy first love, lovers concerto, a moment to remember and now art of seduction. anyway, ja the movie was nice, very hilarious.

saw two pple wearing those jackets. one nederland, one argentina. interestingly, i realise i haven seen it on sale anywhere. maybe i din really go look. but still.

a wild sheep chase

what's with sheep and ears?

from murakami's a wild sheep chase

photos of me alone or of mountains and rivers and deer and cats were left intact. three albums rendered into a revised past. it was as if i'd been alone at birth, alone all my days and would continue alone.

i turn a corner, just as someone ahead of me turns the next corner. i can't see what that person looks like. all i can make out is a flash of white coattails. but the whiteness of the coattails is indelibly etched in my consciousness. ever get that feeling?

time really is one big continuous cloth, no? we habitaully cut out pieces of time to fit us, so we tend to fool ourselves into thinking that time is our size, but it really goes on and on.

you concentrate on waiting for someone and after a certain period of time, it hardly mattered what happens anymore. it could be five years or ten years or one month. it's all the same.

after them, there was no one to call. smack in the middle of a city with a million people out roaming the streets and no one to talk to.

humans by necessity must have a midway point between their desires and their pride. just as all objects must have a centre of gravity.

weakness is something that rots in the body...[...]...There's this something inside you that's rotting away and you feel it all along....[...]...it's the same as a heriditary disease, weakness. no matter how much you understand it, there's nothing you can do to cure yourself. it's not going to go away with a clap of the hand. it just keeps getting worse and worse

on ears, the narrator was fascinated by this girl's ears. what's with ears? i guess to me, it's about the eyes. eyes that can really talk.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Total Football Humiliates Totally.
Our coach is the general.
Our pitch is the battlefield.
11 attackers,11 midfielders,11 defenders.
When you play us,You play an army of 33.

-Netherlands [KNVB]

my idea of how football should be played,
my ideal concept
i have thought hard about it, and i think i am able to pinpoint why i am feeling the way i am. more on that later.

anyway my cousin came over just now with his wife to pick up stuff that we want to send my bro. they are going japan tmr. TMR.

i am so envious. i mean, ja they worked damn hard(they are accountants), so u can say they worked for tis vacation. but i am not tinking abt that. i am tinking onli abt the japan part; how hard they worked, how they "suffered" seemed unimportant.

anyway, ja they are going japan. wow. they are going to hokkaido, kyoto, sendai, tokyo. they are going sendai for the sakura. my cousin-in-law was tellin me tt sendai was to the north of tokyo. i almost blurted out that it was 93 min by train. how coincidental lar. anyway, ja they are going japan.

and i am still here. their imminent departure just accentuates my misery, compounding it.

and my mum was asking me why i only type wif my index fingers. not really, i denied. in fact i think i can type relatively fast. i dun need to look at the board, and i dun type wif just my index fingers. after that, i started to observe my typing. and i realised that i utilise all my left fingers. when i use my right hand however, i cant deny that the last two fingers are less used, and they feel more rigid. just that bit more, in comparison to my left. i think this reinforced my suspicion that i am very left-inclined. after all, i am right-handed. i thot abt it, and decided that maybe my right has the strength, dexterity etc etc, but my left has the feeling, the instinct. things just feel more natural sometimes wif my left. no wonder jun rong wuldnt believe me when i say i am natural right footed. but i do type wif all my fingers k.

i get very restless.

listening to music, being online have become parts of me. so much so that i wouldnt consider myself doing something when i am doing these.

i dont watch tv, except for soccer. and there isnt much anyway. the ones that are shown, like champs league, well, forget it. internationals are rare. and most are quite crappy ones, to be honest. so much for not having scv.

reading? i think i have read too intensively. i am halfway tru murakami's a wild sheep chase. i like it alot; in fact it reinforces my liking for murakami. but jsut now, i tried to pick it up, but i just cant. saturation point, i guess. i guess i am sick of reading, at this moment.

even though i have so many dramas that iw ant to watch, i dun have any. havent got around to any. too lazy to. and i dun really have alot of time, and i dun really like the idea of watching like 3 discs this weekend, and continuing the next weekend. i prefer to finish it within a week or something. continuous. anyway, i dun have any at the moment.

soccer is out too, cos we have no one left.

there arent really any movies that i am dying to watch. except daisy, which isnt out yet.

going out? when you get back, it's like returning to an empty shell. the emptiness jsut comes back after the euphoria. moreover, there are lesser and lesser options. losing contact everywhere. and i dont think i would enjoy talking to some people in our current states. wrong frequency, get wad i mean?

i want a break from running too.

i dun really want to sleep. and even when i lie on my bed, i will start thinking.

basically, most of the time, i am thinking about stuff. on the train, walking, with people. soon, it will come under the "Secondary" category, along with listening to music and onlining. and i have one less thing that can make me feel occupied, less restless.

and i am very restless now. and singapore's getting boring. the places are like all the same. jaded, maybe we are too used to things here, maybe we need a change. plus my cousin's going japan. how many times have i said that? anyway, that made me felt worse.

nowadays u see quite a few pple wearing those kind of jackets that have the names of countries printed behind. like nederland. today i saw one wif argentina. they are kinda cool, remind me of the stadtjacke that was pretty hot in germany in 2004. those with the names of the states in front. i had so wanted to get one then. but couldnt really find them. all sold out. or no size. back to singapore: i want to get the nederland one, but i was thinking: i was already sweating when i was walking around, and today's already pretty cool, considering it was raining, so how the heck am i going to find a chance to wear that?

there's a void in me.
i want to watch daisy, jeon ji hyun's new movie.
because of the following reasons:
it was filmed in amsterdam
it has jeon ji hyun.
the director is andrew lau of infernal affairs.

i should go get a season for love soon.
but then again, there are so many otehr stuff i want to watch.
dragon zakura, 1 liter of tears, kiken no aneki. and so on and so on.

i am nowhere near the truth

tokyo story 5

Time flew past. The new year crept up silently, waiting behind, waiting for its turn.
---
“Tokyo has changed a lot.”

“When was the last time you were here?” Kazumi asked.

“Before you were born,” her father smiled.

“That is 19 years ago.”

“More than that. Anyway you are 20 this year.”

“Not yet.”

“A matter of time.”

“Not yet.”

They both laughed. She was happy to see that he was healthier now.
“It’s good to take a break, isn’t it?” she asked. “It’s good for your health.”

Last year, he had collapsed from a heart attack. The doctor had told him to work less, to relax. Her aunt had called her back to Sendai. It was just as well. Jyu did not get into the top three, thus not securing any contracts.

She had tried to reach for the stars, but fell.

Life in Sendai wasn’t that bad. Her father wasn’t that bad. He became more supportive of her after that. And Jyu. Though the music wasn’t to his taste, and not likely to win the approval of the doctor.

But things were better. And they were now in Tokyo, having their first vacation together in a while.
---
“Let’s go back to being friends.” Kei suddenly said.

“Huh?”

“I think I should let you go.”

“What?”

“She’s still in your heart.” Kei smiled at him. “Don’t lie to me.”

Shiozawa looked at her.

“Don’t worry, I am ok. I feel like a thief. I have stolen you from her. It’s been a while. It’s time I return you to her.”

She smiled her cheerful smile. “Go back to her. Everything will be all right.”
---
“Takahara, it’s time to get ready!”

“Orh.” Takahara pulled himself away from the railing. There were a lot of people. All waiting for the countdown. He needed to put on his costume soon.

Through his costume, he could see the other people, but they won’t really know who he was, this person who was making them happy. He felt safe inside his costume. When he looked at himself in the mirror, with his costume on, he couldn’t really recognize himself, his pathetic self. It gave him confidence. Seeing the smiles of the people, the kids especially, was even more gratifying. He knew then that he could make a difference.

At heart, he was after all a simple man. Whether he was in his costume or not, this simplicity simply radiated through from within.

That was how he still knew it was him in the mirror.
---
“10!”

“9!”

The countdown at Takashimaya Square had begun.

Shiozawa smiled as he looked at the happy couples around him. It was kind of surreal. He was alone, yet not alone, surrounded by these people. Their happiness helped to alleviate his loneliness.

“8! 7! 6! 5! 4!”

The crowd was even more excited by now.

“3!”

“2!”

He braced himself.

“1!”

“Happy New Year!”

There were screams, cries, just a lot of noises as the fireworks came on and people wished one another happy new year.

Shiozawa smiled and turned. Then he froze.

It was Rena.

Rena smiled. “Alone?”

“Happy New Year.”

“You too.”

“The sky is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, especially with all the fireworks.”

Shiozawa’s smile grew. “And I was wondering if you were somewhere under this sky too.”

“Well, I am. Why are you here?” she asked.

He gave a small tilt of his head as he shrugged. “I don’t know. Just led along. By an unknown force.”

She smiled. “You are still the same, metaphorical.”

He nodded towards the building. “After all, this was where we met the first time. Three years ago.”

“Yeah, three years ago.”

“Let’s get back together, under this sky.”
---
Miyu collected her luggage and exited the customs.

“Fujita!”

She whirled around towards the source of it. It was a television screen at the airport lounge. She stepped closer to it. It was showing the final of the Inter-College Football Tournament. Waseda against Keio.

“Here comes Fujita again. Fujita…Goal!”

She swallowed hard. Waseda had taken the lead. 88th minute. It was a good goal. They showed the goal again. Fujita had flicked the ball over the two defenders, reached it and hit it straight into the top corner before it fell to the ground again. They showed the celebration. They zoomed in on his face. It was serious. It wasn’t really a celebration. He was just jogging back to his position, as his teammates crowded behind him.

The fourth official held up a board. Three minutes of injury time. It was going to be the longest five minutes of her life. She clasped her hands as she looked at the screen, almost in prayer. The eternal five minutes.

“Please win,” she mumbled.

Injury time began. Then, it all began. The ball was lost in the half. Keio’s striker took advantage, broke free and slotted past the keeper. 1-1. Waseda conceded a free kick towards the end of injury time. The taker struck it beautifully into the top corner. At that moment, the Waseda players collapsed. Kneeling, lying down. It was over. A tear came to her eyes. The camera zoomed in on Fujita. He was the only one standing. He ran back to pick up the ball. They restarted. As soon as the striker pushed the ball over the line, Fujita took it. A sense of anticipation welled up in her. The referee and the crowd must have sensed it too. Fujita began his run. The referee, instead of blowing the whistle, allowed him to go on. Maybe something would happen. He went past the strikers, then the midfield. Then he unleashed a powerful shot.

She held her breath. Everyone did the same. It rebounded off the crossbar. He fell to his knees. The whistle came. A few centimeters. The few centimeters that never was.

She was standing there, dazed for a while.

Then she picked up her baggage and rushed towards the taxi stand. She needed to see him immediately.
---
The taxi stopped. She handed over the fare and got out immediately. As the taxi pulled away, its headlights caught Fujita. He was sitting on a bench outside his block. He covered his eyes from the glare. When he finally put his hands down, he saw her. She was standing before him, luggage and all. For a long time, they were just staring at each other.

“You are back,” he finally managed.

She nodded.

“Your house is over there,” he pointed behind her.

“I needed to see you.”

He gave a questioning look.

“You are all right, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

She was just looking at him. Then her smile came. “It’s different looking at you from the front.”

He gave her another questioning look.

Then they both smiled. He said, “Before you came, football was everything to me. But I realized it could never fill a void in my heart. I found you out of a hundred million people.”

It was as simple as that. Yet, the simplest things could be the hardest. Like how difficult it was to play simple football. Until you actually did it.
---
They were at the cemetery. Fujita stood behind as Miyu bent down and placed something on the stone slab.
It was the key Ryuichi had given her. “I have locked myself in your heart.” He had told her.

“I am unlocking you,” she whispered.

They bowed.

tokyo story 4

Fujita dreamt about Miyu. He woke up with a start. He had lost count of the number of times she had appeared in his dream.

He heard some noises from his room. Takahara must be waking up now. Takahara appeared in the living room, where Fujita had slept.

“Your place?”

“Yeah.”

“How did I end up here?”

“Ask yourself.”

“I don’t know. That’s why I am asking!”

“You got too drunk.”

“Hey, wait a minute. I was with Kazumi.”

“Yeah, she called me.”

So, the mystery was solved.

Takahara looked around. Sunlight was just streaming in. It was still early. “Nice place.”

Fujita shrugged.

“You ought to have a housewarming or something. You hadn’t even invited me to your house before. This is the FIRST time I am here. And we are such good friends.”

“Well, at least you are here now, right?”

“Fine.” Takahara looked around. “What’s there to eat?”

Fujita shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s go somewhere to eat.”

“Ok.”

They met Miyu on the way, who was just stepping out of her house.

They just stared at each other. Miyu was staring at Takahara, Fujita at Miyu, Takahara at the ground.

“We are going for breakfast. Joining us?” Fujita asked casually.

She shook her head.

“See you around then.”

They went opposite ways.

Takahara recognized the area now. It was the same area his sister lived in. And Miyu. Fujita did not ask why Takahara was strangely quiet throughout the meal. Takahara did not ask him further about Miyu. It was like two complete strangers sharing a table. Perhaps even two complete strangers would have struck up a conversation. Perhaps.

In any case, Takahara went back to school after that. Fujita decided to give himself the day off. He would attend training only later in the day.

Miyu went back to her house and started painting. She was actually planning to get something at the convenience store. But it would mean walking in the same direction as the duo. She knew she shouldn’t do it. Not after what happened the day before.

So, she came back to paint, after walking a while, towards his house. It was kind of ironic. She was walking to his house, yet walking further away from him. She was headed to his house, yet she did not know which exactly was it. And in the end, she was back at her starting point. Drawing him.

His back view. That was, after all, always how she looked at him. From the back.

And it hurt a lot after that.

Ryuichi.
---
“Is there anybody you like?”

Fujita froze, his glass raised. He set it down gently. “No. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” Kazumi leaned back. “The cold and impassive Fujita Toshiaki. Loved, yet never loved. Hard to believe, eh?”

He shrugged. “It’s not that hard.”

“Is football really everything to you?”

He did not answer. He was nowhere near the truth.

“Listen to the song in your heart.”

He closed his eyes and listened. Miyu, it seemed to say.
---
“Where is it?” Kazumi mumbled to herself as she peered at the badly-drawn map Takahara had provided. “That idiot Ken. Can’t even draw a map properly. He is hopeless.”

At that moment, she looked up and saw someone in the distance. She recognized him almost immediately, even though it was dark. It was Fujita. But he was with someone else. He seemed to be helping that person along. She strained her eyes. That person was a girl. She was grabbing his arm.

The two went under a streetlight, which illuminated them. Kazumi gasped when she realized who that other person was. The high school senior who was at the celebration for Jyu’s emergence from the first round in the competition. Yokoi Miyu.

Suddenly, the map she held became worthless. The ticket she had, too, became worthless.

The ticket was for the final of the competition at the Tokyo Dome. It was meant for Fujita. But it was not necessary now.
---
“Where’s your key?” Fujita asked.

“Here.” She was still in a drunken stupor as she handed her handbag to him. “Inside.”

He opened it and found the key quickly, at the same time trying to prop her up, keep her from falling.

Her bunch of keys had a key that was different, he realized. Different in that it wasn’t the kind of key you would find nowadays. It was like a key from ancient times. Medieval times. The kind of big metal ones. He looked at it closely. There was a ‘R’ engraved on it.

He tried on a few keys, finally got the right one and helped her in. After she fell asleep, his job was done. He looked around her room. It was just natural to do that. His eyes fell on a piece of paper on her desk. He took a closer look at it. It was Miyu’s handwriting.

Ryuichi, every time I try to free myself from you, every time I try to leave, the you in me seem to be crying out to me and I will turn back, stricken by guilt. Ryuichi, won’t you, won’t you let me go?

Suddenly, the answer he had found became a question again.

It was then, that he knew, he had lost. Lost to the past. Lost to Ryuichi.
---
“We can’t be together.”

“Why not?”

“We can’t be together.”

“You haven’t given me a valid reason.”

“There’s no reason. It’s just like why autumn always follows summer.”

“How can you expect me to accept that?”

“Ok, then it’s like I am autumn, you are winter. You are always behind me. Never in line.”

“In what way?”

“Our age, for one.”

“What about it?”

“I am older.”

“So?”

“We don’t click. I am your senior. It’s like there’s this gap between us.”

“Because of our age?”

“That’s right.”

“And you only realize now?”

“That’s right. We can’t be together.”

“What are you thinking about?” Hirayama asked, startling Rena.

“Uh, nothing.”

We can’t be together. Her own words echoed. But somehow it sounded like Shiozawa’s voice. Or was it that girl’s?

“Are you feeling all right?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll send you home then.”

She nodded. They made their way to his car. It was a silver Mercedes. That same car he had used to court her. It was maybe three months ago when he came into her life again. He was her senior in university. Her advertising firm was doing a project for the company he was working for. It had turned out they were working on the same project. And they met again then.

He was the one who made her question her happiness. Her so-called happiness.

“Rena, only I can give you happiness.”
---
“I left home shortly after my mother died. I didn’t want to stay at that place anymore. I didn’t want to use his money either. I wanted to rely only on myself.” She sighed. “But it was hard. Lonely. I didn’t really keep in contact with my siblings. I am the youngest. If you don’t count Ken. They are too engrossed in trying to get his money. That is the sorry state my family is in. That’s how disgusted I am.”

“Uh huh.” Miyu was listening.

“Then Tetsuro came along. It was different. He was warm, sincere. I never experienced anything like that before. We got together. He was like the angel God sent to Earth to save me.”

“Then?”

“We started to have problems. Or maybe I imagined them. But maybe, I still can’t detach myself from reality. Life is hard alone outside. Even though he’s there, it’s still hard. He is younger than me. Much as he try, most of the time, I am still like the elder sister taking care of her younger brother. Shouldering both our burdens.

“Jun came along. Reality sunk in. I couldn’t live my idealistic life. Money, status, everything, I am still a pawn of the system. Jun had it all. You can say it’s the easy way out. I took it. I couldn’t really put up with things anymore.”

Miyu did not say a word.

“But it’s all coming back to haunt me.

“I still like Tetsuro a lot.”
---
“What about you?”

“Me?”

“I have told you my story. It’s your turn.”

“Someone’s locked up in my heart.”

“That guy who lives around here?”

Miyu shook her head. “He’s the one trying to come in.”

Rena laughed. “Is your heart big enough to accommodate both?”

“I don’t know. The one in me is very jealous.”

Rena laughed again.
“Is it fair to love someone when there’s another one in your heart?”

Rena thought a while. “I don’t think so.”
---
“Good evening, we are Jyu.”

As Kazumi sang, she knew she was singing for Fujita, to Fujita.
I’ll keep my feelings for you in this song. This unwritten song.
---
“I am going in.”

Fujita nodded. “Goodbye.”

Miyu took one last look at him. Then she turned and walked in. After passing through the gate, she immediately turned around. It was his back that she was looking at.

“It’s always your back I see. Why?” she asked softly.
---
She was going to Barcelona. She had taken academic leave, but there was an opportunity to take up an exchange programme. It was too good an opportunity. So her professor had called her up. She agreed to go.

Just as well, he thought. Back to football. Without distractions.

But somehow, she would still keep appearing in his dreams.
---
“Yokoi Miyu!” Miyu kept walking, ignoring the call.

“Hey!” Fujita caught up with her, grabbed her arm. “Miyu, didn’t you hear me?”

She turned to face him. “I don’t want to. Let me go.”

“Won’t you hear me out? Don’t go.”

She pulled his arm away and strode off. She did not turn back once. She was afraid if she had, she would have gone back. She didn’t want to. She was afraid of it. She was in love with him, yet she was afraid of this feeling. She was trying to run away from her emotions. From her heart.

“Miss, your passport.”

She suddenly became aware of the customs officer before her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, retrieving it.
She wished that had happened. That Fujita would stop her from leaving. From running away from her heart. She needed him to stop her. But he didn’t. After all, she was always looking at his back.

She covered her nose and mouth, struggling to contain her tears. She wasn’t brave enough yet to love again.
---
In the plane, she tried to sleep. But it all came flashing back: the lights were glaring, blinding her. She was closing her eyes. The impact came. She opened her eyes later. They were taking Ryuichi away. Ryuichi’s limp, lifeless body. She survived the accident; Ryuichi hadn’t. It was a guilt that had accompanied her this past year.

The guilt of surviving. The guilt of loving someone else. Letting Ryuichi down. She could not bring herself to do it. She was afraid of her love for Fujita.
---

Rena looked out of the window. There was a plane flying past. Maybe Miyu was on that plane, she thought. Miyu, you finally choose to run away, didn’t you?

Jun, let’s break up. She typed the email out quickly on her phone.

Even so, I still can’t criticize you. Because I am neither running away nor confronting myself. In the middle. Isn’t that worse?

tokyo story 3

“Fujita.”

“Coach.”

Yazawa Nobu, the coach of Waseda was standing beside him, as he was washing his face. Yazawa stared at him for a while, then looked away. “You are not the same player you were two years ago.”

Fujita dabbed his face with his towel.

“You have to work very hard. Two years is a long time. You have a lot of work to do. Rest well.” He patted him on his back and left him all alone in the shower room.
“I know. I know I am not the same player anymore,” he whispered.
---
Kazumi finally called Fujita. She had hesitated, but finally decided to make the call. She crossed her fingers, hoping that he would pick up.
“He’s not going to,” she thought after a few more rings.

“Hello.”

Her heart almost stopped. “He-hello, this is Kazumi.”

“Yeah I know that, I have your number.”

“Oh yeah. Heh, just in case…”

“What’s up?”

“Oh…nothing much…I am in Tokyo now.”

“Tokyo?”

“Yeah, for a few days already. We are taking part in the competition tomorrow.”

“Oh. Good luck then.”

“Thanks. I am so nervous about it.”

“Don’t worry. You will do fine.”

She hesitated. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Should be. Why?”

“Can you come down to support? I mean, I am also asking Ken along too.”

“I’ll see how.” He said after a pause.

She prayed that he would turn up.
---
“Fujita?”

Fujita whirled around to see Miyu and Takahara.

“What are you doing here?” Fujita asked Miyu.

“Oh, I asked her along. To watch Kazumi.”

“I see.”

“We should try to get a better position. I think it’s their turn soon.”

The competition was still in its preliminary stage and was held in an open area.

“Next up, we have Jyu,” the emcee announced.

“That’s Kazumi’s band!” Takahara exclaimed. He started cheering wildly. Miyu glanced past him at Fujita, who was looking at Jyu.

Jyu got through. Their rendition of Nakashima Mika’s Glamorous Sky was brilliant.

“Of course they are good. I bet Kazumi sings this song practically every day,” Takahara was saying at the celebration.

“I don’t!” she retorted.

“So what song are you all going to sing for the next round?” Miyu asked.

“I don’t know. We will decide soon, I guess.”

Fujita was not in the conversation at all. He was staring blankly into space.

“What’s wrong?” Kazumi asked.

“Hey, aren’t you Toshiaki?” a few girls approached their table.

He turned to look at them. “Yeah. You are?”

“Cool. Nice to meet you! I am Reika.”

“Natsumi.”

Takahara interrupted them. “You are all his fans right?” He hit Fujita on his arm. “Wow, you are something. You haven’t been here for a month and you already have your own supporters.”

Fujita looked at them in the eyes. “Pleased to meet you.”

It was emotionless. Mechanical. Like the Fujita of the past, Miyu noticed.

The girls became a little bashful and decided to leave the quartet after wishing him luck for the upcoming games.

“Where do you live?” Takahara asked Miyu.

“Ikebukuro.”

“That’s where Fujita live too.”

“I’ll see you home then.” Fujita told Miyu.

Kazumi was disappointed, but they weren’t going on the same way. So was Takahara.

“It’s late, you better make sure Kazumi reach her youth hostel safely.”

“I can manage,” Kazumi was still miffed.

Takahara shrugged. “Fine.”

They went their separate ways.

Throughout the whole journey, Miyu and Fujita were silent. Fujita was engrossed in his own thoughts, while Miyu was observing him.

After alighting from the train, they walked a silent fifteen minutes to her place.

“I live here.” She announced. “Thanks for sending me home.”

He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I live further ahead. Next block.”

“HEH?”

He shrugged. “I guess we come and go at different timings. That’s why we never met before.”

She nodded. “I am going up. Goodnight.”

He held up a hand and carried on his way. She climbed up the stairs halfway, and observed his disappearing figure. As he became swallowed up by the darkness, she felt an awakening in her heart. It was a feeling she experienced before, but not in a while. Not in a year.
---
Shiozawa was peering through the glass panel of the bakery.

Suddenly, Kei’s reflection appeared beside his. “What are you looking at?”

He turned. “Where did you come from?”

“Home.”

He laughed. “You should have said ‘from heaven’.”

She laughed it off. “That’s so clichéd. Only you would say stuff like that.”

He laughed. “Maybe. Aren’t you supposed to be working today?”

“I took leave.”

“Oh…I don’t have lessons today. Let’s go play.”

“Play?”

“Yeah. Come on,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her along.
---
Miyu got out of her apartment and stretched. She had a lot of free time now; her leave had been approved. She breathed in the crisp spring air. She skipped down the stairs. She was going to go to the park nearby. She hadn’t run in a while. She broke into a run. She felt surprisingly light today, like the load on her heart had just been removed.

She reached the park soon. The park was sunken. So, she was standing on the elevated sides, catching her breath, looking down. There were some children playing. There on the green, was a solitary figure, juggling a ball. He flicked the ball up high. When it came down, he touched it with his foot and burst away immediately. He ran up and down with the ball. It was breathless just watching him do that.

She took a seat on one of the benches. She knew who it was. Fujita Toshiaki. She spent the whole morning watching him run. When he was done, he knelt down on the field for a while, as though in prayer. Then he got up and headed towards her.

Suddenly, she felt like running away. But she was rooted to the bench.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said when he saw her.

“Uhm, yeah.” She nodded.

“I’ll make a move first.”

She could do nothing but nod. And turn instinctively as he walked past. Staring at his back. There was this sense of melancholy about his back view. Her artist-trained eyes told her suddenly.
---
“Tired?” Shiozawa asked.

Kei nodded and took the can he offered. “Thanks.”

“I haven’t been to a theme park for a while.”

“Me too.”

He glanced around and froze.

“What is it?” Kei noticed and asked. She looked along his line of sight and gasped. It was Rena Komatsu.

Rena looked away quickly and walked on. She was with a group of friends. She hurried to catch up with them.

“Go chase after her,” Kei said.

He shook his head. “For what?”

“I don’t know.”

How would she know? It was the only thing she could say, much as she didn’t want to. In any case, the date was pretty much ruined after that.
---
“Coming!” Rena called out and hurried to the door, swinging it open.

“Surprise!” Takahara grinned.

“Oh, it’s you. What is it?” she was nonchalant.

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Thought I would come find your new place. It’s hard, but I found it. Nice neighbourhood though. Hey, won’t you let me in?”

“Come in.” He followed her into her apartment.

“Do you have any place to hang this jacket? It’s all wet.” He looked around. “Wow. Nice place you have got here. Cozy.”

“It’s about the best I can get for the amount I am earning,” she shrugged, taking his jacket.

“You are always welcome back,” he said earnestly.

“I am not that kind of person,” she said coldly.

“I mean, if it’s tough out here, you can always come back. You know you are always welcome.”

“Did they send you here?”

“No, I came on my own accord. Can’t I visit my sister?”

“I don’t really see you as my brother. You know that.”

“But you can’t deny the fact that we are related by blood.”

“I want nothing to do with the Takaharas, seriously.”

“What’s wrong? What do you have against them, against me?”

“Everything.” She was suddenly tired. “Hey, can we drop this? I am sick of it.”

“But I still don’t understand…”

“Listen, I want nothing from him. I can never forgive him. It’s as simple as that.” She paused a while. “You can have all his money.”

He looked at her strangely. She ignored it and went on, “I am not that weak.”
---
Miyu dashed into the sheltered stairwell. She turned, but he was already gone, running off into the distance, with his jacket over his head. She stared at his back for a while.

“You still play? Even in the mud?” she was asking him.

“Why not?” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s what we do everyday, isn’t it? Trudging through all the mud.”

“But then again, it’s kind of liberating, to push the ball through all that mud, to overcome all these things holding on to you.” He had added.

“Huh?”

She looked up. “Huh?”

It was Takahara. He was stunned to see her. So was she.

“Hey, you forgot your jacket,” Rena appeared at the top of the stairs.

Miyu swept her gaze from Takahara to Rena.

“She’s my sister,” Takahara quickly said.

“What?” Miyu was stunned.

“You know each other?” Rena asked.

“Yeah, high school classmates. You live here?” Takahara asked.

“Yeah. I’ll go in first.” Miyu glided past them and went into her own apartment, the other one on the floor.

“Go.” Rena pushed him on his way.

He was still looking up at the closed door as he went on his way.
---
Fujita lay on the floor of his apartment and stared at the ceiling. He was tired. This endless pursuit of his past was wearing him out, both physically and mentally.

Was there anything else to his life other than football?

Suddenly, he didn’t want to think anymore.
---
“I didn’t know you have a brother.”

Rena sighed. “He’s my half-brother. My father had an affair. After my mother died, he married the woman. Kenichi’s mother. It became official after that. That man’s marriage with my mother was essentially a political marriage. It was loveless.”

She warmed her hands on the mug of hot chocolate and smiled bitterly. “I am a product of that. A loveless family. A father who threw money at you; a mother who lived in her own melodrama, too engrossed in it to care about you. Now you know why I am the way I am.”

“That’s not true. ” Miyu continued. “You were happier.”

Rena looked out of the window.

Miyu continued, “Is it because of Jun?”

Rena did not answer.

“Tetsuro?” Miyu watched Rena. “It is because of Tetsuro, isn’t it? Though you are with Jun now, your heart is still with Tetsuro, isn’t it?”
The girl flashed across her mind. Rena laughed bitterly. “I guess I’ll be living my mother’s life. Trapped in my melodrama.”
---
Miyu found herself at Waseda’s training ground again. Somewhere hidden from sight. Watching and watching. Soon, she could paint the images in her head, in her heart. But each time he took shape, her heart would wrench in pain. It was sudden. It was like a man trapped in a prison, pounding on the walls, reminding the world of his presence, demanding justice.

Only, the man was Ryuichi.
---
He had lined up the balls along the edge of the penalty box. He took a few steps away from them, turned and proceeded to kick each of them. Each time, the ball would fly and hit the left side of the woodwork.

Clap-clap.

He turned. Nishizawa was there. Nishizawa walked towards him. “Coach.”

“Very good.”

“None went in.”

“Maybe you weren’t going for goal?”

“You know that isn’t true.”

Nishizawa smiled, like a child caught in the act of taking sweets. “Training’s over. Why are you still here?”

“Practice.”

“But your heart isn’t here.”

Fujita turned his head sharply.
“You know yourself.”

“Coach, is there more to life than football?” Fujita asked suddenly.

“Fujita, do you remember that time you told me I taught you football?”

“Uh huh.”

“I didn’t teach you anything. I only reminded you of what you can do, what you already know. Things that are in you.”

“Uh huh.” Fujita wasn’t sure he understood Coach.

“You see, Fujita, the answer to your question is within you. You know it.”
---
“Are you avoiding me?”

“Why do you say that?”

“We haven’t talked in a while.”

“I am busy with stuff.”

Shiozawa looked away from Kei as he said that. They knew it wasn’t the truth.

An awkward silence passed between them.

Shiozawa blurted out, “ It’s not that I am avoiding you. But I think things are progressing too fast. Things between us. I don’t even know my feelings towards you. I don’t want to treat you as just her substitute.”

“Even so, I wouldn’t have minded.”

Shiozawa looked at her.

“This year, the happiest thing was being by your side.”

“But I am afraid of losing again.”

“But I am different from her.”

She said earnestly, “Let’s at least go back to normal, ok?”
He nodded.
---
Miyu was walking down the stairs when Takahara popped out in front of her, breathless.
Miyu was still looking startled as Takahara held on to the railing, catching his breath. She looked at him, bewildered. Takahara was always the funny guy.

“I am glad I caught you before you leave,” he was still panting.

“Is anything the matter?”

He took a deep breath. “Listen, Yokoi Miyu. I have been thinking about this moment for a long time. 5 years. I finally have the courage now. I ran from the station. Hoping to catch you before you leave.”

He paused, before continuing. “And I thought, if Heaven were on my side, you would be there.”

Miyu was slightly amused by this time.

“And there you were.”

Miyu raised an eyebrow.

“Yokoi Miyu, I may not know a lot. But I do know that I like you. I have nothing in this world. Only this heart that loves you.”

Takahara looked expectantly at Miyu, like a magician who had just finished his performance. The applause never came.

Miyu laughed it off. “You are always the joker, aren’t you?”

“I am serious…”

Miyu made her way past him. “You aren’t.”

She walked a few steps down before continuing. “Even if you are, it’s impossible between you and me. Bye.”

And she left, just like that.
---
“And she left, just like that.”

Kazumi stared at the drunk Takahara. “God, he’s dead drunk. What am I supposed to do with him?”

He continued, “I have nothing in this world. You think I am rich? What’s so great about money anyway? The money isn’t mine. He just gives it. I have nothing. I don’t even feel that I belong to that family. My sister doesn’t even acknowledge me. Neither do the rest of my siblings. They think my mother and I wrecked their lives. My father just throws money at us. I have no talent too. I am just a useless bum. Every day, I walk to the station. I am just one of the faceless crowd. The lost people. Wandering, wandering. Without any hope of ever finding a place in this world. The loser. The joke. That’s what I am.”

Kazumi patted his back. “You are a nice guy…”

He shook his head. “I don’t belong at all.” He moaned. “I have no place here.”

“Hey. Do you think you are the only one here with problems? Don’t make it sound like the end of the world. It’s just a girl.” She tried hard, but still ended up sounding a little harsh. Maybe more than that.

“Wait till you fall for a guy.”
She didn’t really hear his mumble. She was looking around, thinking of a solution. Then she thought of Fujita.
---
Fujita came about an hour later, taking over the burden of Takahara.

“Thank you so much. I wouldn’t know what to do with him.”

“How did he get so drunk anyway?”

“Over a girl. I am not sure the name. She was your high school classmate I think.”

“He never told me anything. Or maybe he did. But he was never serious.”

“He seemed dead serious.”

Fujita looked at Takahara. “I think I will take a cab home.”

She helped to hail a cab. “Thanks again!”

He raised an arm. “Good luck for your competition.”

She couldn’t stop smiling after that. Jyu was already in the final. She felt as if she had won the competition.

tokyo story 2

“Hey Kazumi!” Takahara excitedly waved a piece of paper in her face.

“What is it?” Kazumi asked. They were having drinks at a pub. It was one of those rare days that Kazumi didn’t have to help out at the restaurant.

She took hold of the paper and read it. “ Jyu Audition. Vocalist needed. 4th February Orange Café From 10 a.m.”

She handed the paper back to him and looked away.

“You aren’t interested?”

“I have no time anyway.”

“You will have time! It will be on the whole day…”

“So what if I get in? I wouldn’t be able to practise with them anyway.”

“We will think about that when the time comes. But really, it’s too good an opportunity. It’s Jyu, Kazumi, Jyu! You heard them before too. Although they haven’t been active for a while…”

“Nah. Why do they need a vocalist anyway? What happened to Yuri?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s none of my business anyway.”

He looked at her helplessly. “It’s your chance, Kazumi. It’s your choice.”
Kazumi looked away.
---
He liked the design of the place. The transparent façade, being able to look outside, at the surroundings. The bookshelves inside might have made the place resemble a maze, reducing the space. But being able to look outside sort of expanded that space. It was always space that he cherished. Especially space that wasn’t that obvious. That was his footballing philosophy. Creating, destroying space. That was how he had played.

“Your technique is superb. But what makes you out of this world, is your spatial awareness. You think far ahead,” Nishizawa had told him. “I can’t stand your arrogance sometimes, but you are the man I need to win.”

He wondered why he had never been to the Sendai Mediatheque, although it was in Sendai. It could have been his favourite haunt. The kind of place he was looking for, one that reflected his mindset.

“Sorry, but can I look at that book you are holding?” a voice asked from behind him.

He turned around.

“Fujita?” the girl asked.

“Yokoi Miyu?”

Miyu stuck out a hand. “Of all places? What are you doing here anyway? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, it has been a while.”

Miyu was his classmate back in high school. The prettiest girl in the class. But then again, Fujita’s life had only revolved around football. She got attached to Ito Ryuichi, the sprinter in the class. But it had been none of his business. After all, he was only interested in his football. She was also too artistic. He wasn’t that kind of person.

“Why are you looking at the art books anyway?” she asked while taking over the book he was holding. “You don’t seem to be the kind of person.”

“I thought I could start learning about it,” he said, a slight grin on his face.

She smiled. “Can you believe that we are actually talking to each other? I mean, back in high school, we don’t even seem to acknowledge each other’s presence, even though we were in the same class.”

“Anything can happen in life, Yokoi.”

“Are you still playing football?”

There was a moment of tension. He shook his head slowly. “Not really.”

“Oh…” she nodded slowly.

“Let’s go for a coffee or something.”

“There’s a café around the corner.”

“You come here often?”

“Not really. I live in Tokyo now.”

“Oh. Which reminds me, what are you doing anyway?”

“Studying art. At Geidai.”

Fujita nodded.

“I am back for vacation. Homecoming,” she smiled with a tinge of wistfulness.

They settled down at the café.

“Are you still with Ryuichi?” Fujita asked, after the waitress had brought them their coffees.

She paused momentarily. “No.”

Awkwardness reigned.

“He’s dead for a year now,” she said quietly.

Fujita did not say a word.

“What do you intend to do with your life?” he asked after a while.

“Do art, I guess. You?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

He sent her home after that.
---
“Kazumi, shut the door and we are done,” her father called out.

“I know,” she brushed her hand through her hair. The day was finally over. She let out a breath of relief.

Her eyes met the calendar hanging on the wall. 5th February. Today. She looked at the clock. 11. She took off the apron and ran up to her room.

“Father, I am going out for a while!” she called out as she ran down again, with her guitar.

“What…”

She got on to her bicycle and pedaled furiously. Orange Café wasn’t that far away. If she were fast, she could probably reach there in fifteen minutes.

She reached there in 25 minutes instead. Even though it had been close to 3 months since the last time Jyu performed, she could still spot the members. They were outside the place. They were leaving, walking away from her.

“Hey!”

They turned around. She jumped off her bike. She was panting, trying to catch her breath. “I am Kazumi Takeda. I am here for the audition.”

“But we are done.”

“Give me a chance. I could only come out now.” Your chance, Kazumi.

They looked at each other. There were three of them. Kunio the drummer, Taki the bassist and Shinichi the guitarist.

“Show us how good you are then,” Kunio finally said.

Kazumi broke into a smile. She took out her guitar and started performing. Glamorous Sky.

They did not say anything for a while. Kazumi’s heart raced.

“You are the one,” Kunio said.

Kazumi looked at them in disbelief. They smiled.

“Kunio.”

“Taki.”

“Shinichi.”

“Kazumi.”

“Jyu is back!” Kunio shouted. They all laughed.

Amid all the laughter, Kazumi forgot everything else.

We will think about that when the time comes.
---
Kazumi started to join the rest of the Jyu members for practice. She could only make it after the shop close. Nevertheless they always waited for her. Jyu was a highly-rated band in Sendai. They would hold gigs at various places around town. Half a year ago, they made their last appearance. They disappeared without a word. Now, they were back again. Kazumi learned that it was because their vocalist Yuri was emigrating to Canada. But the rest of the members wanted to get Jyu started again, hence the search for a new vocalist.

“There’s a competition coming up. In Tokyo. On the first of April. We are going for it.” Kunio announced.

“Tokyo?” Kazumi was stunned.

“Yes, Tokyo. It’s already March. We don’t have a lot of time. We need to choose a song and practise.”

“We are going to win. Then people in the whole of Japan will take note of us. Maybe we will become even bigger than X-Japan.”

“You are thinking too far!”

Kazumi was suddenly worried. She wasn’t sure if she could leave. Looking at their enthusiasm and hopes, she couldn’t bear to voice out her fears and shatter it all.
---
The ball rolled to him. He was hesitant. But he finally moved away from the ball. The little boy glared at him and ran after the ball.

“I am sorry,” he said softly.

“Fujita.”

He turned to his left. A balding man in a tracksuit came over. “Coach.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Look around a bit. What about you?”

“I come to this park to give these kids tips now and then. They always come here to play.” Nishizawa looked at the kids. The little boy had rejoined his friends. “Move in, Hattori, kill the space!”

Fujita laughed. “Surely they are too young to understand tactics, Coach.”

“Have to start young,” Nishizawa shrugged. He scrutinized Fujita. “You are not the same Fujita.”

“Why?”

“Your tone is different. I couldn’t have imagined you speaking to me in this tone. There’s this tinge of respect.”

“I have always respected you, Coach, though I may not show it. You taught me football.”

Nishizawa shook his head. “No. I merely reminded you of your abilities.”

Fujita turned away. “I haven’t touched the ball in a while.”

“I am disappointed.”

Fujita sucked in the crisp air. “Life is full of disappointments, Coach. It isn’t perfect.”

Nishizawa said, “You can’t run away from it, Fujita.”

Fujita turned back.

“Be the man they say you were going to be.” Nishizawa turned around. “Tell me when you want to play again. I can arrange something for you.”

Fujita watched Nishizawa work with the kids for another fifteen minutes before leaving.
---
He went to the Takeda Restaurant. It was late afternoon, so it was empty.

“What are you thinking about?” Kazumi asked.

“Huh?” Fujita was brought back to earth. “Nothing much.”

But he was still looking dazedly. Like he was somewhere far away. Kazumi waved a hand in front of him. “Tell me about it.”

He shrugged. ““Sometimes, I guess we are burdened by the expectations of others. Such things cloud us. Sometimes I ask myself, do I want something because I want it, or because others expect it of me? It’s hard to distinguish between whether you want it for yourself or because others want it of you. That’s why we feel so lost.”

“Do you need a map then?”

He looked at her for a moment. Then he allowed a smile to show.

“I must go buy the lottery or something.”

“Why?”

“You are actually smiling.”

He made light of her statement with his shrug.

He closed his eyes. Deep in thought. Kazumi was bewildered, at the same time a little worried. His eyes snapped open. He reached to his side, opened his duffel bag and took out something. It was a ball. He placed some money on the table. “For the tea.”

He ran out of the restaurant, dropped the ball onto his feet and started running with it, juggling. Everything. Kazumi watched from the door. His touches were a little off, but it was still Fujita Toshiaki. She couldn’t help but smile. Fujita was back.

Fujita was smiling. It was really the kind of smile brimming with joy. Kazumi closed her eyes, registering the image, carving it into her heart. It was unforgettable.

Fujita paused to catch his breath. Kazumi went to join him. “Why do you suddenly start to kick the ball around?”

He smiled. “I realized I had been lying to myself all this while. Not wanting to play football again. Even while I was saying that, my mind was on football, on playing again. I was confused. I didn’t know if I wanted to play again. Then people started telling me to play again. My grandfather. Coach. And I wanted to run away from it again. I was thinking: am I going to play for them or for myself? What is it that I want? If I play, is it because I want it, or because others want it of me?”

He was speaking very rapidly. Kazumi was listening intently.

“I decided I want to play. It took two years. But I am ok now. Maybe I am scared a little. But I want to play. For myself. For everyone else.”

He smiled again. “I can’t run away from it. After all, it had been such a big part of my life.”

She smiled and stuck out a hand. “Congratulations.”

He shook it.

With that handshake, suddenly, Kazumi knew too, what she wanted.

Thank you, Toshiaki. I thought I could help you. But you helped me instead.
---
“Coach.”

“Yes, Fujita?”

“I want to play again.”

Nishizawa smiled. “That’s what I have been waiting to hear.”
A week later, Fujita left for Tokyo with Takahara. Nishizawa had arranged for him to join the Waseda University team. Of course he would need to enroll in the school as well. He was going to do Sports Science. But he was going to play football again.
---
“Thud, thud.”

Kei looked up to see Shiozawa’s smiling face through the glass panel.

He held up a piece of paper with a message scrawled on it.

“I’ll wait for you at the park around the corner when you knock off,” Kei read from it. She looked questioningly at him.

He winked, raised his hand and walked off, leaving a bewildered Kei on the other side of the glass.

“I didn’t know you have a boyfriend. Such a good-looking one too,” her colleague, who was new, came over and nudged her.

“Huh…no…he is just a friend…”Kei hurriedly denied.

Her colleague just grinned. “Introduce him to me then,” she dared her.
---
“What’s the meaning of this?” she asked, the first thing she saw him sitting on the bench.

“Here’s chocolates for you!” he held out a box to her.

“Why are you giving me chocolates?”

“I guess you won’t be getting any today. So, it’s to cheer you up on White Day.”

“Idiot!” she playfully hit him with her handbag. They laughed.

They sat, side by side on the bench.

“Wonderful, isn’t it? Being alive, breathing this air, sitting here,” she remarked.

He grinned in agreement. “Yeah. Wonderful. You always look on the bright side, don’t you?”

“Sometimes, I don’t even look at all.” She smiled and closed her eyes dreamily.

“No wonder they say ignorance is bliss.”

She grinned, then put on a serious face, tilted her head and shrugged. It was a mimicry of him and he knew it. They laughed again.

“Hey, Terakawa Kei.”

“Uh huh.”

“How did we meet?”

“It was just last year, wasn’t it? I was cycling to work. Then you suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Luckily I am a good rider, or I would have crashed into you. It’s your fault! You came out of nowhere, without warning.” She slapped his wrist.

“You were the one not paying attention,” he retorted.

An elderly lady walked past them and smiled. They were embarrassed.

“It’s your fault!” They both said at the same time. They stared at each other for a while, then broke out laughing.

“But I got so afraid when you turned up at the bakery. I thought you had tracked me down and was coming to get revenge or something.”

He laughed, “I was just buying bread for breakfast the next day.”

“I was new! How was I to know that you are a regular?”

“But it was still funny, you were so scared!”

“Hey!” she slapped his arm again.

He chuckled, “You got so tensed up whenever I went to the bakery. Then one day, I just decided to talk to you and lay your fears to rest.”

She smiled.

“Hey, let’s go watch the cherry blossom together,” he suddenly said.

She looked at him. He raised an eyebrow and nodded. She nodded in agreement.
---
“I am going to Tokyo,” Kazumi announced.

“What?” her father was shocked.

“Leaving tomorrow. Will tell you when I am coming back,” she continued nonchalantly.

“What? What did you say?” her father asked, still shocked.

“Leaving for Tokyo. Tomorrow.” She ran up to her room before her father could say anything else.
Lying on her bed, she tried to shut out her father’s shouts and knocks. The door didn’t collapse, as she had feared. She slipped in and out of slumber, so much so that she didn’t know if she were dreaming or her father was still shouting like a madman outside.
---
“Fujita!” Takahara called out.

Fujita turned, saw them and came over.

Takahara laughed and slapped him on the back. “How have you been? It’s been a while, isn’t it?”

“It has only been a week…”

“Of course, of course. I was exaggerating. How’s football?”

“Getting used to it again. Will get busier when term starts.”

“That’s true.”

“I’ll go get a drink. You want anything more?”

“Later.”
---
Whenever she start to think of the past, it would get unbearable. She could not free herself from the shackles of the past. For a while, she attended counseling and got better. But she was still haunted by it. You could never free yourself from memories. It wasn’t as if they were chalk markings on the board that could simply be wiped away. Nor were they words carved on the beach, easily washed away by the tide. If only it were as simple as that. On occasions like these, she would try to drown her pain in alcohol.

“Yokoi.”

She turned groggily around. She squinted to see who it was. Fujita.

“Heh…Fujita. When did you come to Tokyo?”

“A week ago. You alone?”

She nodded and rubbed her eyes.

“You remember Takahara? We are sitting over there. Come and join us.”

She followed him.

“Miyu! What a surprise!” Takahara was very happy to see her again.

“Is this some sort of gathering?” she asked with a smile.

“I think I drank too much. Argh.” She slapped her forehead. “So what are you doing in Tokyo?”

“Me?” Takahara pointed to himself. “I am studying here. At Sophia University.”

“Waseda. Football. I mean, Sports Science.”

Miyu laughed. “I thought you don’t really play football nowadays? Wasn’t that what you told me the other day?”

“You guys met before this?” Takahara interjected.

“Yeah, at the Mediatheque,” Miyu said.

“I changed my mind.”

“I am doing art at Geidai.”

“Yeah, you said before.”

“Oh yeah. Forgot.”

Miyu left first, complaining of a headache. She rejected Takahara’s offer to send her home.

“Why didn’t you tell me you met her in Sendai?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Is she still with Ryuichi?”

“He’s dead.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“You are kidding me right?”

“Ask her yourself.”

“I better not.”

“Why are you asking me so many questions anyway?”

“Why can’t I?”

Fujita shrugged. “We are splitting off from here. Talk to you again.”
Takahara watched Fujita’s departing figure. “Because I still like her, stupid! I have liked her from high school. But I am not like you, so confident of yourself. Anyway, there was Ryuichi too. I wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
---
“So, this is Tokyo.”

“You have never been to Tokyo before?”

Kazumi shook her head.

“Not even to Disneyland?”

Kazumi shook her head again.

“Then we must go and have fun after the competition. But first, we must focus on it.”

Kazumi nodded.

She was overawed by the city. It was much bigger than Sendai. She suddenly thought of Fujita. He was somewhere here too, fighting for his dream. Just as she was. He had given her the courage to pursue her dream. She wasn’t going to let him down.
---
Spring came. Along with the blossoming of the cherry. It was a time of renewal.

“Wow. It’s beautiful,” Kei exclaimed.

Shiozawa was grinning. They were at Ueno Park, cherry-gazing.

“Let’s sit over there, under the tree,” she pulled Shiozawa along.

They sat side by side, amidst the crowd, and gazed at the cherry together. She placed her head on his shoulder.
“This year, the happiest thing is being by your side,” she whispered
---

Miyu was looking out of her window. Spring had come. A year. She was nowhere near freeing herself from this emotional prison. She had promised to forget him before the arrival of spring. It was a broken promise.

She sighed. She needed a break. She made up her mind to apply for academic leave tomorrow.

tokyo story 1

Shiozawa Tetsuro, 21
The Law undergrad at Todai . He is your typical overachiever, confident and brilliant.

Terakawa Kei, 19
The poor girl working at the bakery, she used to have everything, until the bursting of the bubble economy turned her family from rich to poor. Being optimistic by nature, she has taken it in her stride and tries her best to help her family.

Komatsu Rena, 24
Hailing from a rich background, she is currently working at an advertising firm. The office politics and pressure from work have made her jaded about the “adult” world. On the other hand, her family is asking her to work at the family firm, which she has resisted, wanting to “succeed relying on her own efforts.” Her relationship with Tetsuro comes under strain due to their age gap.

Takahara Kenichi, 21
The slacker who comes from a rich family. He appears outgoing, but is inwardly insecure, feeling that if not for his money, he would be lonely. Although he pretends not to care, he is also aware of his own ineptness, especially in comparison with his successful older siblings. He likes Miyu.

Fujita Toshiaki, 20
The ex-footballer who spent the last two years in Australia, in a bid to erase the past.

Yokoi Miyu, 20
The brooding artist who seeks solace in painting. She has a love-hate relationship with Toshiaki, liking him, yet hating him.

Takeda Kazumi, 19
The restaurateur’s daughter who wants to be a rock star, she is set to inherit her father’s small eatery in Sendai. But she is not interested in it, only in music. She feels trapped by her circumstance, a struggle against tradition.
***

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to land at Narita Airport.” The announcement was being made. “Please turn off all electronic devices…”

Fujita Toshiaki slid off the headphones and pulled up the window shutter. The sunlight streamed in. He was home at last. Coming home to bury his grandfather.

And maybe, the past.
---

“I didn’t know you could cook so well!” Takahara gushed.

Kazumi gave him a troubled look.

“Try it for yourself.” He held out a slice of tamago.

“No thanks.” She waved it away, as though disgusted by it.

“You are weird.”

“You are worse,” she retorted. “Who calls someone up and says he is hungry, can he have some food?”

“I forgot to bring money out with me. And I was near your place, but I forgot the directions. This place is so confusing.”

She sighed. “Hurry up, I have to go back. Or my dad will ask questions.”

“Ok ok. Why do I have to eat by the roadside anyway?” They were at a junction. “Why can’t I go to your eatery?”

“It isn’t mine.” She snapped. “I don’t want my dad to ask questions.”

“Me too, actually.” He said amid another mouthful of rice. “I don’t know what to say when he asks me how am I doing.”

“I guess I will just become a N.E.E.T. I really don’t know what I am going to do with my life.” He said after a few more mouthfuls.

“I know what I want. I don’t want to spend my life slicing fish, chopping vegetables, scooping rice. I want to be like Nana. That’s my dream. Why won’t he let me pursue my dream and not his?” Kazumi’s frustration grew.

Takahara looked at her, his mouth stuffed with rice. He quickly swallowed some of it. “Can’t you do both?”

“Are you crazy? How can you run an eatery and do music at the same time?” she looked at him incredulously.

“You can do your music during off-peak hours. Hey, you can even make it the feature of your eatery. Live band performances.” He was excited at the prospect.

“It’s not my eatery. Anyway, you think the workers at this lousy port here listen to my kind of music?”

“That’s true.”

“I need to go to Tokyo. Ah, forget it, you worry about yourself. I will think about my problem.”

Kazumi was just this rebel, trying to break out.

“I am back.” She leaned her bicycle on the wall and slid the door open.

“Where did you go?” her father asked, without looking up from his newspaper.

Just as well, Kazumi did not want him to see the basket she had put the food for Takahara in earlier. “My friend was lost in the area.” He was lost in life, to be exact.

“Guy or girl?”

“Girl.” She went up to their living area. The first floor was the eatery, the second their rooms. It was cramped, but she had lived in this house since she was born. So had her grandfather, her father used to tell her with pride. There was so much family history to this house.

She shut herself in her room and took out her guitar and started playing her favourite song Glamorous Sky, singing along.
---
“Miss, are you looking for any book in particular?”

“Eh?” Rena was startled. She turned around and saw a young man standing behind her, smiling. He was quite good-looking. Confident. There was this cleverness in his eyes.

His eyes smiled, he raised his eyebrow slightly and turned his head slightly, bringing her back to his question.

“Oh…I am looking for Sophie’s World.”

“Jostein Gaarder?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Hmmmm…” he squatted down beside her, scanned the shelves and pulled out a book. “Here. You like philosophy?”

“Yeah.”

“Not many people come here to look for philosophy books on New Year’s Eve. They are all outside, waiting for the fireworks.”

“Maybe I am different.” She scrutinized him closely. He wasn’t wearing the staff uniform. “You aren’t working here, are you?”

“Nope.” He smiled again.

“Oh…” she was puzzled.

“I am Shiozawa Tetsuro.” He held out his hand. She took it. “Komatsu Rena.”

“Pleased to meet you.” He stood up.

“You like philosophy too?”

“Very. I learn about it in my spare time. I study law, actually,” he said.

“Oh…where?”

“Todai.”

“Wow.” She was impressed. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised. He did have this aura of brilliance about him.

He shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“I am working at an advertising firm. In my free time, I like to think about stuff and write. There’s a lot to think about in philosophy.”

“I like to think too.” he smiled. “Maybe we should meet up and share our thoughts.”

“Uh huh.”

“Give me your phone.”

She passed it to him, puzzled. He pressed on the buttons and handed it back to her. “That’s my number.”

That was how they met. On New Year’s Eve. They had been together for two years now. Even though Shiozawa was younger, they never had problems with the fact that he was still studying while she was already working. Of course there were snide remarks and all. But he was happy, she was happy. Until Hirayama Jun came along, that is.

“But do you really think he can give you happiness? The kind of happiness you want. He still has a year to go. You are already working. You are as good as supporting him. He will always lag behind you. He’s younger. You are like an older sister to him. Can you sulk to him? Can he lend you his shoulder? Ask yourself frankly. He’s just a poor student.”

Hirayama’s words echoed in her mind. There was a ring of truth to it. She closed her eyes, tried to block out his words. They kept coming back. Was she truly happy?
---
He got the ball just inside the opposition half. “It’s time to win the game,” he thought. He started pushing the ball to the right, accelerating. His marker couldn’t keep up with him. He moved to cut inside to a shooting position. In full stride, he was elegant, graceful, and unstoppable. “That was it,” he braced himself to shoot, to score. There was this tension in the stadium.

Suddenly, he felt himself flying into the sky. And landed sharply.

Fujita snapped up from bed, perspiring. He realized it was all a dream. He turned over and looked at the time on his phone. It was two in the morning. Panting, he closed his eyes, trying to block out the images. But they kept coming.

It was horrible. The center back ran straight to him and slid in, crashing into him. It was a horrendous tackle. In the end, they lost the game 1-0. But he lost everything.

He remembered lying on the field, knee jutted out 90 degrees, in pain. The pain, it could not be described. They brought him to the hospital immediately. But the game went on. Eventually, they conceded two goals and lost the final 2-0. The final of the All-Japan High School Championships. His dream. Gone.

All eyes were on him then. Stunned. Horrified. Under their scrutiny, he felt weak. Useless. It was an alien feeling; he had always felt on top of the situation. Suddenly, the pain wasn’t merely physical.

He was told that his tibia and fibula were broken. He needed surgery and later, rehabilitation. From Japan’s brightest young player, he became, in that moment of madness, nothing.

His coach Nishizawa Hiroshi came to see him. By then, he had already read in the news that Tohoku High School had lost to Kunimi High School.

“I am very sorry to see you like this,” Nishizawa had said.

His words were like stabs in Fujita’s heart. He could not accept weakness. He could not accept defeat. That was him.

“I will never play football again.” It wasn’t because of his condition. People could think that way for all he cared. He would never admit that he was afraid. He was afraid this would happen again.

Before Nishizawa left, he had told Fujita, “I know you mean what you say. When you say you are going to win, you will win. But I still hope to see you on the field again.”

Soon after, Fujita left for Australia. To leave the past behind.

He got up, opened a drawer and took out a letter. Dear Toshi, please do not ever give up on football. To have you returning to the field, that is my last wish. Please fulfill it for me. Your grandfather.

Fujita read the words again and again. The strokes were forceful, yet weak; controlled, yet shaky. His grandfather had written it himself on his deathbed. Hands shaking, tears welling, he returned the letter to its place.

He lay down again. He had returned to conquer the past. He had been back for a month now. But he was nowhere near victory. On nights like these, he was reminded of his weakness.
---
“Welcome!” Kazumi called out, then gasped.

In stepped a familiar figure. It was 2004 all over again. Her heart beat faster.

“Kazumi, why are you standing there?” her father was annoyed and hurried over. “I am sorry, this useless daughter of mine is always daydreaming.”

Kazumi was already back in 2004.

“Hurry, Kazumi, the game has already started. Oh, that idiot Uchiyama, why must he be so longwinded? The festival would be a success…” Mai was saying, dragging Kazumi along to the sports complex.

“I don’t understand why you are so crazy over football. 22 men running after the ball. STUPID.” Kazumi was pissed that she was spending her afternoon watching football instead of jamming.

“There are seats there. Let’s go!” Mai ignored her. They sat down. “We are the one in blue, by the way.” Mai told Kazumi.

At that moment, a ball was sent into the opponents’ half, somewhere in front of the two center-backs. The Number 10 made a surging run. Without breaking a stride, he raised his left leg, somewhat parallel to the field, caught the ball on the outstep and brought it down. He skipped right in between the two dumbfounded defenders and calmly chipped the ball over the onrushing keeper.

“GOAL!” the home supporters went wild. It was a fantastic goal.

“SUPER!” Mai was jumping up and down, shaking Kazumi.

“Wow.” Kazumi whispered, her breath held. It wasn’t the goal which impressed her. But what happened after that. The Number 10, after lifting the ball into the net, without breaking a single stride, moved to his right, closer to the stands, the side where the opponents’ supporters were seated, and placed a finger to his lips. He was staring straight into them. It was arrogance. Sheer arrogance. But it was strangely alluring.

“Wow.” Kazumi muttered again.

It was like the sports complex had been split into two worlds: one of euphoria, one of silence.

“Who’s that guy?” Kazumi asked the hyperactive Mai.

“You don’t know?” Mai asked incredulously. “FUJITA TOSHIAKI. The best player in the school. The coolest guy too.”

“You forgot: the best player at his age,” the guy beside her added in. “He’s my classmate. Superb goal, wasn’t it?”

“Your classmate?” Mai was already in her own world.

Kazumi replayed that gesture over and over again. That aura of confidence, invincibility. Toshiaki Fujita. He was a senior; that explained why Mai never got to go near him. The senior girls were always forming a shield around him, blocking off the juniors.

“We can go out one day, the three of us with Toshi,” the guy was saying.

“Can we? Can we?” Mai was practically tearing his sleeve off.

He nodded and promised to ask Fujita. “My name’s Takahara Kenichi, by the way. Class 3-4.”

“Yoshida Mai and Takeda Kazumi. 2-2”

The promised date never came though. But Kazumi went to watch the rest of Tohoku’s games, with Mai and Kenichi.

There was one game when the Tohoku coach kept shouting to Fujita to defend. Although Tohoku had a one goal advantage, the opposition was gaining momentum. Fujita paid no heed to the given instructions. In the end, with twenty minutes remaining, he was brought off.

He raised his arms. The look of disbelief on his face changed into a scowl. He slowly made his way out and did not even bother to acknowledge his replacement. His coach was telling him, “You have to come back more. You are a midfielder. Even a striker has to defend, let alone a midfielder.”

Fujita had not even looked at him.

He was dropped for the next game. He was sitting on the bench throughout the game, legs crossed, looking at the field, somewhat nonchalantly. Then, Tohoku went one goal down in the 30th minute. With less than half an hour to go, the coach was pacing nervously. Tohoku needed to win to go to the nationals. The students around Kazumi started chanting “Fujita, Fujita”.

Then, the coach called him over. He got out of his tracksuit and warmed up a little, before standing, hands on hip, next to the coach, who gave him a few instructions.

“But Toshi already knows what to do. He has been analyzing the game all this while,” Takahara said.

Fujita went into the game and made an impact immediately, threading a through pass for his striker to score the equalizer.

Then, he surged forward and launched an unstoppable shot into the top left corner to send the Tohoku supporters into ecstasy. He ran to their side of the stand, raised his arms, urging them to cheer. His gaze was penetrating. Steely. Kazumi felt as though he was staring at her, as though their gazes were meeting. Then he turned and went back, clenched his fists and shouted, “Come on!”

Amazingly, they got another goal in injury time. 3-1, Tohoku was in the nationals.

His arrogance was repulsive, yet captivating.

“KAZUMI!” her father’s bark brought her back to 2006.

“Huh?”

“Bring some green tea over.” He had already seated Fujita. Kazumi hurried to carry out her task.

The door slid open. In came Takahara Kenichi.

“You actually found the place?” he was apparently surprised to find Fujita here.
“It wasn’t that difficult, although I hadn’t been here for two years, and I haven’t been to this part of the city before,” Fujita shrugged.

Kazumi was observing the proceeding from behind the counter. She brought two cups of green tea to their table. Her father indicated to her to take their orders while he returned to the kitchen.

“Hello, Kazumi,” Takahara grinned.

“Why are you smiling like this?” Kazumi didn’t know if she was bewildered or annoyed.

“Nothing. This is Fujita Toshiaki. This is Takeda Kazumi. Toshi here is a brilliant footballer-”

“Was.” Fujita interrupted. “I have nothing to do with football now.”

Kazumi knew very well what happened that day in the National Stadium in Tokyo. She was watching the game on TV. She remembered cringing at the tackle. Her heart was in pain when she saw his pained expression.

“Oh well. Anyway, he’s back in Japan for a while. Since I am also in Sendai currently, I brought him here to catch up. Kazumi’s from Tohoku High too.”

Fujita looked at Kazumi. It was the second time their gazes met. But it was different. Outside, he was still Fujita Toshiaki. Inside, you could sense that it was different. Shattered. Soulless. The arrogance was gone; the aura of invincibility was gone. Fujita was vulnerable.

It was late afternoon, hence there weren’t many customers around. Thus, Kazumi could chat with them. Fujita had returned to Sendai for his grandfather’s funeral. He would be staying for a while, perhaps even going to Tokyo. After that, he would be returning to Melbourne, where he had been living for the past two years to continue his studies.

Somehow, she wasn’t disappointed that Fujita wasn’t the all-conquering Fujita of old. She knew he was wounded; she wanted to heal his wound.
---
“I am sorry I am late,” Kei sat down beside Shiozawa.

“It’s ok, I just reached here too.”

“And you finished a coffee already?” Kei smiled.

Shiozawa laughed. Kei was too sharp.

“Hmmmmm.”

“What?” Shiozawa asked.

“You don’t look like someone who’s out of love.” Kei said.

“How am I supposed to look then?”

“Depressed? Forlorn?”

“I am. Deep in my heart.” He pointed to his heart. “It’s just so hard to show my sadness around you.”

“Why is that so?”

“Because you are always so optimistic. It just rubs off other people.”

She smiled.

“That’s why you are so nice to talk to. Soothing. Like the sea.”

“But the sea can get turbulent too.”

“Not this sea.”

“You never know…”

“Excuse me, but may I bring you something to drink, Miss?” the waiter interrupted them.

“Oh, can I have a coffee?”

“I’ll have another one too.”

“Sure.” The waiter left them alone.

“So, what illness are you suffering from?” Kei asked in an authoritative manner.

“Huh?”

“I am the doctor, you are the patient. I am here to help you.”

He laughed, then became serious. “Part of me can’t seem to let her go.”

The waiter returned with their coffees. She stirred quietly, peering into the coffee. As though the answer was inside.

“Why don’t you try looking at things from the 20th floor instead of the 2nd floor?” she said after a while. “The view’s different. Maybe it can be refreshing too.”

He looked at her. She looked up to meet his gaze. “You should give yourself another chance. Get to know more people. Maybe she isn’t the one for you, maybe she is. Look from a different perspective. Maybe you will know then. You can take it as a learning experience too.”

He took a sip. “That’s why I say you are like the sea.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t really give solutions. What you said, I figured out myself too. Just that perhaps I hadn’t put them into practice. But I feel much better hearing from you. Soothing.”

She laughed. “Well, at least you feel better.”