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?
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?
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