mourinho.

before you know it, flores has been sacked by valencia. saw it coming.

valencia have three players that cannot be allowed to leave the club at any price: david silva, david villa and joaquin sanchez.

the only way to prevent this from happening is to realise those ambitions- win.

i think in the short run, in order to keep them, i am prepared to make an extraordinary conciliatory gesture to mourinho, in the process sacrificing style for substance.

we are running out of time to produce something. i would say we do have the foundation to win something. we just need someone who can achieve it, someone who can turn potential champions into champions. this team can play a neat passing game. it can also be scintillating in attack. but we can worry about that much later. the priority is to get results.

what's the point of playing pretty and winning nothing, only to lose joaquin, silva and villa at the end of the season? then it would be impossible for us to play pretty next season; back to zero, or worse, negative. the difference between henry and villa, silva and joaquin is that the latter three are all close to, or in their prime. henry is no longer the same henry when he left arsenal. that's the difference; you cannot expect valencia to be suddenly rejuvenated with the sale of any of those three players. that would be sheer foolishness.

so for the sake of playing attractive football in the future, we might have to sacrifice it now.

Het Wilhelmus

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVYH3JUbXtY
Wilhelmus van Nassouwe
ben ik van Duitsen bloed.
den vaderland getrouwe
blijf ik tot in den dood.
Een Prinse van Oranje
ben ik vrij, onverveerd
den Koning van Hispanje
heb ik altijd geeerd

William of Nassouwe,
i am of Dutch blood
loyal to the fatherland
i will remain until i die
a Prince of Orange
i am free, fearless,
the King of Spain
i have always honoured.

my favourite national anthem.

i also like:
germany's Deutschlandlied
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WjZ-QnduVxg
france's la marseillaise
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWEIUxantVs
italy's Fratelli d'Italia
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYCmKAyt-hk&NR=1

i think these anthems are all very stirring, in their own ways. in a way, you can tell which anthem belongs to which country. it's the same way as you determine which country/region a person is from. it's the way they speak, the inflections in the tone. if i am in a room with a spaniard(or italian), a french and a german, i think the moment i hear them speak, i can guess who is who.

but i must admit, that's actually a stereotype. nevertheless, it is still a general guide.

back to the anthems, if you take a look at their lyrics, they might not seem relevant today, but i still think they manage to capture the essence of the respective peoples. which again might no longer be that clear a concept, because of immigration and globalisation. but the fact that they are proud of their anthems show that these anthems are still relevant.

5/10

that's how much we were worth at anfield.

we gave away a goal within 5 minutes.
we gave away so many balls during the last 7 minutes or so, when we could have gone for the kill.
we missed two open goals.

almunia- 7/10
almost faultless. the goal wasn't his fault anyway.
gallas- 7/10
played well overall. finally showed what being captain is about, with a good last-ditch block on gerrard.
toure- 6/10
played well overall. dangerous on one occasion when he cut through the entire liverpool midfield. i am unhappy about the free-kick. i know he scored from there against bolton, but from that position, i think he should have gone into the box and see what fabregas can do from there.
sagna- 6/10
rather steady, as always.
clichy- 6/10
as usual, consistent.
flamini- 5/10
gave away too many balls. he got caught in possession outside the box, which led to the incident that gave liverpool that freekick from which they scored. kept slipping and slipping and slipping. didnt do a great job at left back. i think he got caught out alot in that little time he spent there. i thought he should have made way for gilberto instead of clichy.
fabregas- 6/10
6 only because he scored. he missed that open goal. and i think his passing was off, especially in the first half. his touch was also poor today.
eboue- 5/10
he did hit the post, he did look dangerous when he took the ball and run, but i wasn't impressed by his decision-making. but then, he has never been good at it.
rosicky- 5/10
he looks so awkward, so terribly right-legged when he dribbles. he kept the ball ok, but didnt do anything much.
hleb-7/10
drove the team forward, because liverpool can't take the ball off him. had some luck on that ball to fabregas, but he has really made things happen.
adebayor-5/10
disappointing today. ran alot, but nothing much to show for it.
walcott- 6/10
was dangerous. breathed life into arsenal's play, but again, didnt really do anything.
gilberto- 5/10
didn't have time to do much.
bendtner- 6/10
clearly gave another dimension. he brings a little of van persie's qualities to our play when he came on. but he lost the ball too many times in such a crucial game, and under naive circumstances, so it was unforgiveable. and he missed that second open goal.

to me, it's 2 points lost. you can argue that liverpool had their chances, but i think they got outplayed by us. well, if i rate us so poorly and still think we outplayed liverpool, i think that says a little about how good liverpool really is.

as a team, we played ok, perhaps a little off, but certainly not far off from what we have been playing so far. but i am terribly disappointed, because we shot ourselves in the foot by conceding that early goal. and i absolutely hate it when you make things difficult for yourself and undo all your hard work. because of the goal conceded, the shots missed, we threw away all our effort. how can you accept that?

i rate us so poorly, because all the things we failed to do were much more significant than what we did, which should anyway be demanded of every game, which was to play good football.

we can console ourselves by saying at least we kept the two records: remaining unbeaten and scoring in every game.

but consolation is just a form of self-deception for our failure.

so get that out of the head and focus on the carling cup, then the man u game. make sure there will be no need for any form of consolation.

and tell you what, carragher is a bloody cheat. he was grabbing fabregas in the box, just like how he was grabbing lescott against everton.

well, he is a lucky cheat.

La Marseillaise

i must say that other than the last 70 minutes of the blackburn game, the steaua game and the newcastle game, i think i managed to watch all of arsenal's games this season.

i fully agree with arsene wenger that the 7-0 demolition of slavia prague wasn't perfect. by a stroke of luck, i caught the game on replay.

the football was exhilarating at times. some of the goals were brilliant; close to perfection, even. the fifth, sixth, and maybe the fourth and seventh as well. but slavia prague are a good team that can play football. you must give them credit. they weren't as bad as they looked. and slavia prague is the team that beat steaua, scored two goals at sevilla. so they can't be that bad. but we made mistakes in the game.

so it is very simple: it wasn't perfect. it was very good, but it isn't perfect.

i think we can feel happy and satisfied, up to perhaps 70 percent. because there are always things we can do better. of course we shouldn't take away our achievements from ourselves. we applaud those, but know that the next game starts at 0-0. all over again. so we have to keep going, because we haven't won anything yet.

alot of people are waiting for us to fall. they think it can start today, at anfield.

the 7 goals were brilliant, but they count for nothing tonight. they mean nothing if we don't win tonight. because people are waiting to see us stumble. how can we give them that pleasure? we should give them the pleasure our football provides, because from what i see, there is no other team in europe that can play better football than us. not even manchester united, not even barcelona.

i want us to remember what happened last year. we were down 1-0 within 5 minutes. the game was over then. this cannot happen tonight.

i want us to remember the spirit of marseille. i want us to be like them: go to Anfield and play like you are the hosts. do not be intimidated, because the anfield myth has already been shattered by marseille. and are marseille better than us? no. of course not. if they can do it, i don't see why we can't.

go in and play with belief, because the game is there to be won.

GOD BLESS ARSENAL

For Us

It has been almost two years. Two years out in the wilderness. Two years of our lives which can never be returned to us. For two years, our lives stopped.

For every one of us who was out there, there was probably another person in the shelter of society, carrying on with a normal life.

Who did not want that? Who would not want that?

But we are here now. We are here because God only tests people He deem worthy. Today we stand here, knowing we have passed His tests.

As we pick up the pieces of our lives, learn from the past, so that we may treasure the present and prepare for the future. Dream, as if you will live forever, live as if you will die today. Live. Live, because for every one of us here, there is another wishing he can be here. Live, if not for them, for ourselves. For no one is responsible for ourselves but us. If not me, who? If not now, when?

Boys, be ambitious.

Step through that gate. Step forth towards your future. Step forth into the new world with brave steps. …and I will be standing there, applauding you.

Because you have fought, and you are free at last.

May God be with you.

last night and tonight

when argentina scored yet another try, i think it was the one that brought the score to 27-3, st denis fell silent.

argentina 34 france 10.

i feel very sorry for the french people, because it wasn't supposed to be like that. it was massive disappointment, sheer anguish. it was a terrible day to be french.

france had the possession, attacked from the start. argentina hit them on the counter and won. it's true that france brought the ball over the line three times, only to be called back for various forms of infringement each time. but other than that, for all the possession, france never looked like they were going to score, except for that try. in contrast, when argentina ran at france, you just feel as though something was going to happen.

france kept running themselves into the argentina defence. when you watch the argentina players run, you feel as though they have been freed from shackles. they dance, they move with so much grace. i think the french defence was poor, but argentina showed imagination in attack, and the french couldn't cope with it.

speaking of imagination, the french had no imagination when they attacked. no doubt the argentina defence was brilliant; they were simply everywhere in numbers. but the real problem lies in the lack of support. there is no imagination because there is nothing to imagine. there are simply no options.

i think argentina won because they knew what they were doing when they attacked. in contrast, france's attacks kept breaking down because they had no idea how to break the argentina defence. it was like just like the england game.

looking back, argentina were really brilliant. but i feel sorry for the french people, but not the french players. i think they have let the nation down.

rugby ends tonight. no more of the ad with the stylish 'excusez moi'.

the art of defending

http://www.gamedesign.jp/flash/chatnoir/chatnoir.html

understand this game, and i think you understand what defending is all about.

when to kill the space, when to let him have the space, which space to kill, when to pressure, how to link up with your fellow defenders to trap him, how you need to calculate precisely how much space to give him so that you are in control of the situation, how one mistake can be so costly, how if you ever put yourself in the situation where you are chasing him, you are in deep trouble, how you can seem to be giving him the space, only for him to fall into your trap, how to give him space to buy you time to have a proper defence.

and of course, if you understand how a defender functions, you know how to beat him.

if an attacker and a defender know the same thing, the attacker will always have the advantage of the moment of magic.

a lesson from arsenal

it's all about acceleration

what makes something fast is neither the top speed nor the average speed, but the amount of time you need to get from a stationary position to full flight.

be patient, stay calm, act wen. watch out for the sign. when the time comes, snap into action; move fast. move so fast that people don't know what really happened, that only when they look at it again, will they applaud the brilliance. decisive, intense, aggressive, ruthless. bang bang bang- goal.

the italian

do you know why i did not become a colonel?

because i don't lick asses

i think the italian was quite a nice show. simple, moving, engaging. while it doesn't achieve any spectacular breakthrough as a film, what i really like about it is that it focuses on telling a story that is part of this world, that we can understand, rather than being all flashy and gimmicky.

the story- 6 year-old vanya's search for his mother, reminds me of gitta sereny's the german trauma, the part about social workers trying to reunite kids from eastern europe.

kids separated from parents(under any circumstances) + east-west divide = dilemma

what do you really do? give the kids a better life by letting them go west, or reuniting them with their birth parents? it is not a simple question to answer.

i am really interested in stille sehnsucht, a german film about a young mother who loses her daughter in the bosnian war, but finds out that she is still alive and goes in search of her, who is living happily with her new family in germany.

the scenarios may be a little different, but i think these works largely revolve around the same theme. thus, it is kind of interesting to see the different perspectives with regard to the issue.

clever people

the problem with clever people, talented people:
they try to be too clever; they neglect the basics.

or u can also say, they try to be too cute, as the commentators have commented on france's play against england in that semi-final.

saru mo ki kara ochiru

even monkeys fall from trees.

He. She.

He sits alone at the tram stop, shivering in the frigid winter night. He would rub his stiff hands, before tucking them under his thighs again. All this while, he waits.

He grabs her hand and pulls her into the splash fountain. They run through the jets of water, carefully skipping around the other people escaping the heat. They stop right in the center of the square. There, they stand, facing each other, her hands on his. She closes her eyes, feeling the cold water rain down on her face. And she breaks into a smile. A smile of bliss.

She stands at the side of the bridge, a solitary figure looking at the river.

She slams the door shut and locks it. She covers her ears as he knocks furiously on the glass window. She closes her eyes and turns away. The pounding stops. She turns. He says something. She looks at him, her eyes watery. He says it again, this time slower, emphasizing each syllable.

He runs. He knows he can’t stop. He runs and runs and runs. But even as he is running, she is slipping away.

Two persons sitting side by side on the train, listening to their own mp3s, not saying a word to each other, even though they are both listening to the same song.

She grabs his elbow as he starts to light the sparkler, and squeals when it comes to life, illuminating the darkness, illuminating their faces. He smiles; she looks so radiant.

He just stands there, at the center of the overheard bridge, shoulders slouched, staring off into space, as the crowds mill around below; an island.

He stretches out a gloved hand to catch the falling snowflake. He looks up at the night sky and wonders if she were somewhere watching as well.

She takes in a deep breath. Letting it out, she nods to convince herself. She picks up the sledgehammer and swings at the sculpture. The monument to their love.

She leans on his shoulder, her fingers tracing words in the sand, words that somehow lose their magic if spoken. He sits there, knees tucked in, arms around his knees. Staring, staring, staring…at the ship in the horizon that doesn’t exist.

He stares at the screen of his phone and flips it shut. He looks around, lost. Then he flips it open and stares at it again. He exhales sharply and presses the button.

He is on the floor, curled on his side, sleeping peacefully. She sits down carefully, silently. Taking out her canvas, she proceeds to sketch.

songs for a new start

Spring
*I wish- asu e no tobira
Mr Children- Sign
Seamo- Mata Aimashou
Orange range- hana
Utada hikaru- flavor of life
Otsuka ai- amaenbo
BOC- Tentai kansoku
Boa- key of heart
Ftts- missing you
FTTS- goodbye
Stef sun- ren xing

Summer
*Southern All Stars- Sea of Love
V6- feel your breeze
Yuna Ito-Precious
Lara and Jay- Shan Hu Hai
Elva- Wen
B’z- ocean
FTTS- Sea of Love
FTTS- Forever
Orange range- michishirube
Clazziquai- lover boy
B’z- Gold

Autumn
*Silbermond- symphonie
Gazette- Cassis
Jay- Feng
Ayaka- mikazuki
Nakashima mika- glamorous sky
Park hyo shin and lisa- with you
Elva- ta he ta de gu shi
Younha- I cry
Kiss- because I am a girl
Landy- zhu wo sheng ri kuai le
Ai- story

Winter
*Nakashima mika- yuki no hana
B’z- itsuka no merry christmas
Remioromen- Konayuki
Nakashima mika- hitoiro
Nakashima mika- I love you
Baek ji young- sarang an hae
Queen- I was born to love you
Yuri chika- I cry
Yuna ito- endless story
Ayaka- I believe
Boa- waiting

*refers to the song which i feel is most representative of the season. the songs are not listed in any order, and even * does not mean it is my absolute favourite, because firstly i think favourite songs don't quite exist. the closest are probably yuna ito's endless story, precious and nakashima mika's glamorous sky

Domani 5

Kanna
I stood at the entrance of Domani and looked at the display outside. “Autumn/Winter 2004 New Creations. God’s Tears. Novembre. Kanna. Kanna?”

“Kanna is very popular among the ladies after we first came out with it in Autumn,” the waitress smiled as she told me.

I nodded and followed her into the café. “I would like one of it.”

She smiled and nodded. A few minutes later, she returned with my order.

It tasted different. I called for her and asked to see the chef who made it. While waiting, I tasted it again, just to be sure.

“Miss?”

I looked up and almost choked when I saw a man of around fifty. Kenichi’s master. I wasn’t really surprised; I kind of expected it. It was just that I wasn’t hoping to be proven right.

“This looks the same as the one I had in March, but it tastes different. It tastes different from the one Ichiro made.” I didn’t know if I was telling him or myself.

He looked at me and gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Wait here.”

He appeared again with an envelope, which he handed to me. On it, my name was written. “Kenichi told me that one day, a girl called Kanna will come. I suppose that must be you. I am supposed to hand this to you.”

I took the envelope. They bowed and left me alone.

I opened it. Inside was a letter.

Kanna,

When you read this, you would have tasted ‘Kanna’, and would probably be disappointed with the taste. I changed the recipe a little, because I wanted the one you had in Tokyo, to be unique. To be the only one in this world. It was made for you alone. I hope that this can alleviate your disappointment.

I am sorry that I left without a word. I left a week after your performance. I was there. I am sorry I lied. But you were great that night. I will always remember.

I am in Milan now. It’s beautiful in Milan. It snowed last night. First snow of the winter. The snowflakes falling onto the pavement. I wished you were here to see it for yourself, to catch it on your gloved hands.

I don’t know what else to say. It feels weird, writing a letter to you. But I thought I should write. An explanation at least. I am happy here. I hope you will be too. I don’t know when I will be back. When I am ready, I suppose.

In gamba! (take care!)
Ichiro
***
Ichiro
I woke up to find myself alone. Something was cooking. I went into the kitchen.

“Oh, you are awake?” She glanced at me for a moment, before returning to her task. “Wait a while, lunch will be ready soon.”

Lunch? I took a glance at the clock. It was already noon. “What are we having?”

“Risotto alla Milanese. Since you are with an Italian girl, you have to start liking Italian food. Especially Milanese cuisine.”

I smiled. It’s just so her.

I met her on my second day in Milan, when I was exploring the city. She was playing her violin in the square. Pachelbel’s Canon in D. I stopped to listen to her performance till the end.

When she finished, she smiled, to no one in particular. That was when I applauded. She turned to look at me. Her smile changed slightly, to one of curiosity. “Giapponese?”

I nodded. I thought of something and made a gesture for her to wait. She nodded, a little unsure.

I went to a stall selling flowers and bought a bouquet. Returning with it, I gave it to her.

“Thank you,” she said in Japanese.

I smiled in surprise. She told me in halting Japanese that she had taken up the language in school. She was an art major who plays the violin in her spare time.

We met up often after that. At first, our conversations were supplemented with gestures as she tried to speak Japanese, while I tried to speak Italian. But things improved as time went, and nowadays, we would switch seamlessly from Italian to Japanese and vice versa.
***
Kanna
“Kanna!”
“Mother!” I hugged my mother tightly. “Father.”

“What happened, Kanna? I thought you love it?” My mother asked, concerned.

“Let’s go home first, ok?”

She nodded.

With less than 2 months before my final year in the conservatory, I had withdrawn from the program. For some reason or another, I just couldn’t play the violin anymore.

I gave my violin to Yuki, and told her to find a new owner for it.

I was usually with my violin. Always been like this from junior high.

I felt strangely liberated without it. I felt almost guilty. I felt sad. Turmoil reigned in my heart, as I struggled to define what I was feeling. I wasn’t sure. How could you be sure of anything when you have just let go of the biggest thing in your life for the past quarter of your life?

The only thing that was sure, was that I was making starting over again.
***
Ken
“Is it nice?” my grandmother asked with a smile.

“Mm,” she nodded. She really liked it.

“My grandmother grew these in her garden,” I told her.

She looked in surprise at my grandmother, who nodded, still smiling.

She swallowed. “It’s really very nice.”

“Come often, and I shall cook for you.”

“Can I? Can I learn from you as well?” she asked excitedly.

“Of course. I am only too glad to teach you.”

On the bus back, she suddenly asked, “Kenichi, when we get married, why don’t we move in with your grandmother?”

I looked at her in surprise.

“Well, you are always off on your assignments. And your grandmother’s alone anyway. We can keep each other company. What do you think?”

“I think she will love the idea.”
***
Ichiro
“This as well.” She handed the photo of the three of us to me. It was nicely framed. When I first brought it to Milan, I had taken it out of its old frame and slotted it in the Italian-Japanese dictionary I brought along. Once, when she was at my house, she had seen it and the next time she came over, she brought along a frame. “It’s too nice to be kept in the pages of a book.”

I smiled, thanked her and put the photo into the suitcase as well.

“Anything else?”

I shook my head.

“Oh, the invitation?”

“Even if I don’t have it, I will surely be able to enter.”

She smiled.

“What about you? Have you got everything you need?”

“Yeah.” She looked out of the window. “You know, I can’t believe I am going to Japan. I can’t believe I am going to live there.”
***
Kanna
“Hello!”

I looked up in surprise. We were closing. It was a Caucasian girl. “Hi.”

“Can I still buy something?”

“Sure. You speak very fluent Japanese.”

“I have a Japanese boyfriend.” She looked out of the door. “It’s still open!”

“Ichiro.” I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Ichiro!”

“Kanna?”

I nodded, and embraced him. “When did you come back?”

“Last night.” He was still the same. He still looked the same.

I pulled myself away and smiled sheepishly at her. “I am sorry.”

“Kanna is my other best friend.”

She smiled.

“You didn’t tell me when you would be back. Only that you would be at his wedding,” I said accusingly.

“Well, I am here already,” he smiled.

“I shall not talk to you,” I said, turning to her. “What are you looking for?”

“Something for his apartment. It looks lifeless.”

“Ah. I know what to do.”

I put together a bouquet of flowers which included a sunflower and lilies. She reached to pay me.

“It’s ok. It’s a gift from me to you. Not him,” I emphasized.

“Thank you. I am sorry I held you up.”

“I am waiting for my boyfriend to come and pick me up anyway. He’s held up at work.”

They left first, while I waited for Hiroki.

I was happy for Ichiro. In our letters, he had mentioned her. Now, seeing her in person, I was happy for him, for her, because I knew they were happy together. Ichiro had found the girl whom he would fall in love with.

“Why are you smiling like this? What happened” Hiroki suddenly appeared.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Are you coming with me to my friend’s wedding on Saturday?”

“Today’s Thursday right? I am ok with it.”
***
Ichiro
“Chiaki and Ken”

Ken’s wedding took place at Freundlieb, a café converted from a church which we used to frequent when we were in high school, because Ken said that ‘Freund’ meant friend and ‘Liebe’ was love in German. We knew then that we would come back often.

It was really more of a reception for friends and family. His grandmother, uncle, aunt and cousins were there, along with a few colleagues and friends from school, I supposed. Including us and her family and friends, there were perhaps 30 people all together.

“I can’t believe you are getting married,” I told him straight in the face.

He laughed and looked at Rossella. “When’s your turn?”

Kanna interrupted. “How about on our birthday? Special, isn’t it? Ken, why didn’t you think of it?”

“Yeah, my fault. So you have yours on that day as well, ok?”

Kanna looked away, embarrassed.

Ken turned to me, “When you get married, you will remember to put it on our birthday right?”

I was glad to be back with them: Kanna, Ken. Of course things are a little different now, with Chiaki, Ross and Hiroki. Well, it was impossible to expect that nothing would change from the time I left two years ago.

In any case, the three of us are still together, just that there are three more.

I can’t have any complaints, right?

“Of course.”
***
Ken
22 November 2006

As I am writing now on the train to Sapporo for our honeymoon, I can’t help but marvel at how quickly time flies. We were high school students one day, and adults the next. My biggest regret was that while we had done almost everything together, we didn’t celebrate Coming of Age Day together, because Kanna was in Tokyo while I was in Brussels.

But life is full of regrets, isn’t it? So much so that I resolve to do my best to make sure no more pops up.

Ichiro was away for around 2 years. What happened during those two years? My memory of it is increasingly becoming blurred. It seemed a lot had happened, and yet hadn’t. I know that I met Chiaki during that time. 2 years is a long time. I know because I was away for 2 years, and when I came back, I felt as though it was forever. I am sure Ken felt that way too. I don’t think I married Chiaki on an impulse. I am happy with her. As happy as I feel when I am with Ichiro and Kanna. The two of them have been with me for so long, I think maybe God has arranged for Chiaki to come and take over them, so that they can pursue their own happiness.

Well, nothing stays the same forever. Even best friends. I think we have gradually gotten used to being without each other, and leading our separate lives. Even though all three of us would be back in Kobe, I suspect that we might not see each other except on special occasions like our birthday, New Year and maybe Christmas. Maybe we will watch the sakura together. I don’t really know.

The future is such an unknown, isn’t it?

When we stared into the sunrise back then, did we imagine that we would be where we are today?

What really happened between the three of us? What did I do, while Ichiro was away? What did we write in our letters? What was my conversation with Ichiro before he left the music hall about? I can’t really remember. I only knew it took place. What about the treat that never happened, because I turned down all four job offers in the end? What about the conversation at Ichiro’s house after Kanna left? What did we talk about? What happened while I was away? What about Kanna’s ‘Goodbye Kiss’ more than 4 years ago? These were questions which were significant. But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

Now, they are memories. Like the photographs we take. When we go through them, we will smile and remember that they took place. But beyond that, there is nothing else, because we can never go back to that exact moment.

Nevertheless, I will always treasure them, because they are things that anchor me, that define my identity. And we are always adding more memories. It’s like making pottery. You add in more clay and slowly mould the shape. That’s life.

Now, Chiaki has fallen asleep on my shoulder. She looks very peaceful. That’s life.

Life is beautiful, isn’t it?

And tomorrow will be even more dazzling.

Domani 4

Kanna
“Hurry!” I stopped and frowned. “We don’t want to miss the train.”

“Well, who took forever getting ready just now?”

The last time we were rushing like this was two years ago, on my graduation day.

“Kanna! You are going to be late!” My mother called out. “It isn’t nice to be late on your Graduation Day, is it?”

“I am leaving!”

“Look out for the traffic.”

I was on time. I met up with my friends and we chatted excitedly. Then, we were called into the hall for the graduation ceremony. Throughout the ceremony, I was looking at my watch.

“It is the school’s wish that all of you will always remember the values…” The principal droned on and on, with scant regard to the time.

When the whole thing was finally over, clutching my certificate, I waved goodbye to my friends and ran out to the school gate. Ken was already there, with his bike.

“What took you so long?” he asked.

“They couldn’t bear to let us leave.” I hopped onto the bike. “Let’s go! Ichiro must be waiting.”

Among the three of us, I was the last to graduate from high school. The two of them had their ceremony the day before. I graduated on our birthday.

We were going to Ichiro’s new apartment. Like now.
***
Ichiro
The doorbell rang. I wiped my hands on the towel. “Coming!”

There, standing at the doorway, was Ken. He broke into a huge grin and we hugged.

“I am back.”

“Welcome back.”

Kanna stepped around us. “Is lunch ready? We haven’t had breakfast.”

“More or less.”

Lunch was hot pot.

“Do you remember the last meal we had together?” Kanna asked.

“Yeah. It was exactly like this, having hot pot here. Just that it was two years ago. On our birthday. Right after your graduation ceremony, we rushed here. How could I forget? You were so heavy!”

“Don’t exaggerate!”

I smiled. How fitting, to continue from where we left off two years ago. Two years ago, they were squabbling over the same issue. I decided to put an end to it, “So how was Europe?”

“It was quite an experience. Every day, I was just being bombarded with new things. I think everyone should try it, packing a bag and then going abroad for a while, far from everything familiar. It’s a good opportunity to think through things, to reflect on your life, and to try seeing things from fresh perspectives.”

“So now that you are back, what are you going to do?”

“I want to get a job.”
***
Ken
Ichiro and I sat on his bed, our eyes fixated at the small TV screen. He was holding the remote control and flipping channels repeatedly. His phone sounded. He stopped fiddling with the buttons.

I watched the host of the talk show engage in casual banter with his guests, as Ichiro stared at his phone with a troubled expression. He fiddled with it, before replacing it on the table.

“Who was that?”

“Just…someone from work.”

“Girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you seeing her?”

He shot me a dire look.

I laughed. “Not the kind of girl you would fall in love with, I suppose? So when are you going to find such a girl?”

He shrugged. “It’s not up to me.”

“What if she doesn’t exist?”

“Too bad.”

“You know, I get this feeling that maybe we are both going to be bachelors till we die.”

“Why?”

“You will never find a girl, while I will keep switching.”

He laughed. “Nothing wrong with remaining single.”

“Yeah, at least we still have each other.” I looked at him seriously. Then we both burst out laughing. He pushed me away. “Don’t treat me as target practice.”

We returned to staring at the screen, although how much attention we were actually paying to the talk show was in doubt.

“More beer?” he broke the monotony.

I nodded.

He got up to get to the fridge.

“When we first met 6, 7 years ago, did it ever occur to you that we would be like how we are now? It’s kind of magical, isn’t it?”

He looked up from the fridge.

“You know, that day I left, I was thinking about a lot of things on the flight. I was wondering when I would come back. 3 years, 5 years, 10 years, or maybe I wouldn’t even come back. I was also thinking, what would happen during my absence? If I do come back, what would things be like? Would the Concerto still be there? Would they still put up the Illuminario in December? Could you still see Kobe and Osaka from Maya-san? Would you finally have gotten yourself a girlfriend? Would Kanna be with someone? What would happen to us? Could we still be like in the past? Or would we simply drift apart? In a way, I was almost afraid to come back, because I was afraid to see how things would have changed while I was away.”

“I never doubted that you would come back. Because only by coming back can you get the answers that you had been seeking before you left.”
***
Kanna
Hey I am back in Tokyo.

Glad to hear that.

I read the message again and again. Frustrated, I finally flipped my phone shut and threw it onto my bed. I climbed onto my bed, closed my eyes and tried to think.

Why was I feeling this way? What was I expecting? What did I want him to say? What else could he have said?
***
Ichiro
That spring, Kanna was back in Tokyo, playing her violin, while I was busy with work at Domani. Ken found a job as a photographer for Kobe Shimbun.

As the weather began to turn warm, his work caught the attention of several newspapers and magazines, local and international.
***
Ken
I arrived in Tokyo at around noon and met Kanna at a ramen place in Shibuya for a late dinner.

“You just came from an interview?” I nodded.

She asked even more incredulously, “In that?”

I looked at the faded T-shirt and jeans I was wearing. “Yeah, why not?”

“Are you crazy?”

We did not say a thing until we left the place. She started walking at a fast pace.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“We still have time before the shops close.”

We ended up in a men’s boutique.

“How about this? Or this? What about stripes?” she sounded more as though she was talking to herself as she held out different shirts in front of me.

In the end, she pushed me into the fitting room with a shirt and trousers. When I emerged from the fitting room, she took one look at me, snapped her fingers and said. “Oh, a tie.”

She held out different ties as the process repeated itself.

We finally bought four ties, three shirts and two trousers.

“Give me a treat when you get the job with Asahi, Yomiuri, Time, whatever.”
***
Ichiro
It rained a lot in the summer of 2004. I spent a lot of time staring at the rain. When I was young, my mother used to tell me that rain is Heaven’s tears. “Heaven is crying for somebody on Earth,” she would say whenever it rained.

That summer, Heaven must either be crying for many people, or someone must have been so important to Heaven that Heaven was crying so much for him or her.

But as Heaven’s tears dried up, my master approached me after work. “Kenichi, you have spent around two years with me, isn’t it?

“Two and a half.”

“Two and a half… Well, I think you have improved a lot. Surely, you would have come up with your own creations, just that you haven’t let me try. Autumn’s coming, and I think we should launch new creations for autumn and winter. Why don’t you help me with that?”

I gave him a look of disbelief.

“To me, making pastries is a form of expression. You have been making nice pastries, but those are more for the customers, for other people. Why don’t you try doing more for yourself? Make something that means a lot to you, and other people can share your emotions with you.”

That night, I opened my mailbox to find an envelope with a pass to a concert by students from Kanna’s conservatory in Tokyo.
***
Ichiro
I sat with Ken in the upper terraces of the concert hall, a bouquet in my lap.

The only time I ever heard Kanna play the violin she loves so much was in April 2000, when the first sakura of the millennium were beginning to fall. The three of us had arranged to meet, to watch the sakura. I was the first to arrive. Kanna came a bit later, lugging her violin.

“Just had lesson,” she said when she noticed my eyes on her violin case.

“Since Ken isn’t here yet, why don’t you play something for me?”

She thought for a while. “Ok, what would you like to hear?”

“What can you play?”

“What do you want?”

“Why don’t you play something that you think I will like?”

She thought for a while and nodded. Then she took out her violin and played Pachelbel’s Canon. She gave a little curtsy after her short performance and stuck out her hand. “Flowers.”

I gave her a blank look.

“It’s courtesy to give something to the performer after her performance. Me, I like flowers.”

I applauded.

It was Kanna’s turn to perform.

Listening to her play the violin in this autumn evening, I suddenly realized how much the violin, autumn and her had in common. Elegant, yet melancholic. On her beautiful, smiling face, I saw hurt, pain and dried tears. In her music, I could feel the sorrow of her heart, her helplessness. Melancholy hung in the crisp autumn air.

It was to be the last time I ever hear her play the violin.
***
Kanna
“Kanna!”

I turned and caught sight of Ken. Waving back, I walked towards him.

“Ichiro didn’t come?”

He looked away and nodded.

“Oh.” I said quietly.

“What’s that in your hand? Is it for me?” I asked in a cheerful voice.

“Oh.” He looked at the bouquet in his hand and held it towards me. “For you. Your performance was great.”
***
Ichiro
Are you asleep?

Yes.

I am sorry that I couldn’t be there.

There is no need for ‘sorry’.

Are you angry?

No. I am sleeping.

Sweet dreams.

I placed my phone beside my pillow and tried to sleep. The previous night’s conversation kept coming back to me.

“I’ll go first. See you.” Rie gave a short bow before taking her leave.

“Kenichi.”

“Yes?”

“Do you have time? I would like to discuss something with you.”

I nodded.

“Let’s go. I know a good pub near here.” He smiled. “You need a change of environment sometimes.”

We went to a pub called ‘Dead Drunk’.

After our beers came, he asked, “What do you think of Milan?”

“I have never been there before. But I heard it’s very nice.”

“It is.” He looked at me and continued softly, as though he was telling me a secret, “I learnt there.”

It wasn’t something that I didn’t know. Italy had been a big influence in his life. Domani means ‘tomorrow’ in Italian.

“Anyway, if you are serious about pastries, which I think you are, I think you should go out and learn. Italy would be a good place. My friend has a school there. In Milan. Why don’t you go? Then when you come back, I can retire and hand over Domani to you. I can go to Italy and spend the rest of my life in a quiet village near the mountains. How does that sound to you?”

I somehow smiled. “You have to give me time to think it through. It’s quite sudden.”

“Of course of course. I am not telling you to pack your stuff now.” He looked thoughtful for a while. “You don’t really look happy these days. Of course you always look impassive, but these few months…more than usual. Sometimes, it is good to put down everything and leave for a while. See new things, meet new people. Then come back when you are ready. It’s not really running away. It’s going away to change the stale mixture a little, and also to make necessary changes to your life.”

He smiled. “I am offering you a chance to do that.”

Domani 3

Ken

I was in the plane’s lavatory. As I washed my hands, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My hair was long again.

When I was 15, my grandmother came over for a visit. My hair was rather long then. She looked at me and choked back tears as she said, “Your hair is just like your mother’s. Brown, wavy.”

After that, I shaved my hair off and that became my hairstyle up till my graduation from high school.

In my last year of high school, during summer vacation, I stepped out from my uncle’s house, intending to take a stroll when I saw our neighbour Mrs Yamada tending to her flowers.

“Good morning.” I smiled as I greeted her.

“Oh…Good morning.” She gave me a long look after that.

“Are you okay, Mrs Yamada?” I asked, concerned.

“No-nothing…You look just like your mother when you smile. You have the same smile.” She had a sad smile as she said this.

It was then that I knew that even cutting my hair was not enough to erase my mother from my life. It was like a part of her was in me, was part of me. I could never ever shake it off.

“Mrs Yamada, do you know my mother? Can you tell me more about my mother?”

From her, I learnt that my mother was a Spanish teacher at a language school. My father was her student, although he was older. They married, and had me. My parents used to come over a lot to my uncle’s place, because my father and my uncle were very close. That was how Mrs Yamada had known my mother.

According to her, my mother was a very nice lady, always smiling.

But she still left us when I was five. Because of that, my father sunk into depression and eventually killed himself. By the time I turned six, both my parents had already abandoned me. I lived with my uncle from then on. My uncle, my aunt and my cousins were very kind to me. Nevertheless, the first few years were difficult. I felt as though God had played a sick prank on me. What made it worse was that of the 1.5 million people in Kobe, He had picked me.

With the passing of time, however, I eventually got used to it, although I couldn’t tell myself that everything was normal, because the fact was that everything wasn’t.
***
Ichiro
And so, I was standing at the ticketing gate, waving to her. “Go home.”

She smiled. “Not until you go in, not until I can’t see you anymore.”

“Ok, then I am leaving. Goodbye.”

She nodded. “Take care. Tell me when you reach Kobe.”

I nodded and inserted my ticket. Passing through the gate, I turned around to wave to her once more, before striding towards the platform.

Two years ago, we were in this sort of situation, just that our roles were reversed. She was leaving, while I stayed. She waved to us, before adjusting her duffel bag on her shoulder. Then, violin case in hand, she walked towards the train, towards her future.

That spring, as the snow melted, as flowers began to bud, I watched as my friends left me one by one.

Kenichi, Kanna
***
Kanna
As I watched him disappear into the crowd, fade away from my life again, emptiness engulfed me. Kobe is only three hours away from Tokyo, but we meet only once or twice a year, when he comes to Tokyo, or when I return to Kobe.

Had we been too busy with our own lives, too busy with pursuing our own dreams that we have neglected the people dear to us?

I thought about Ken and Ichiro, my best friends. They had both come into my life and made a difference, in their own ways.

Ken is always the clown, always ready with a joke, with a smile, a hearty laugh. I envy his carefree approach to life, the way he takes everything in his stride, always with a ‘it’s ok’ ready. I suspect that it is a result of ‘the great tragedy of his life’, as he himself puts it, with a twinkle in his eye. Either having to come to terms with it has made him stronger, has enabled him to take such a relaxed approach to things or he has always been, in reality, building a defensive wall of smiles, jokes and laughter around him, nursing a deep wound in the depths of his heart. I suppose it is a combination of both. But anyhow, he has lit up my life.

Being with Ichiro till dawn that day made me realize how fortunate I was, and how stupid I would be, if I were to walk away from violin. My parents had always supported me fully in whatever I do. I just have to say ‘yes’. Everything was really up to me. It was just a question of whether I had the guts. Ichiro’s resolve gave me the strength to dispel whatever doubts I had…to pick up the application forms, to go for the tests and interviews, to come to Tokyo alone, to fulfill my dream.

But at times like these, amidst the crowds, on chilly nights like these, I sometimes find myself wondering if I should have stayed.
***
Ken
“Have you filled in the forms?”

“I did it on the plane. Don’t worry, I come here often. Business.” Mr Garcia smiled.

I nodded in acknowledgement. “Well, I guess we part from here. I am going over to the ‘Japanese Citizen’ side.”

“Sure. Take care.”

“You too.” I walked past him.

“You know…”

I stopped in my tracks.

“She’s your best friend because there is someone else, isn’t it? So if you like her, why don’t you fight for her? For your own sake… no point living in self-denial, you know, saying she’s your best friend.”

I turned around.

“Are you going to grow old and lonely, and then regret that when you were a young man, you didn’t fight for the girl you love? Do you need an old man to tell you to cherish every moment of your life?”

I continued staring at him without a word.

“I know, because that was what happened to me. It’s up to you. I just don’t wish to see you follow in my path. Goodbye.”

Back in high school, I often went to the library with Ichiro, because he wanted to coach me in my studies, and figured that the library would be a good place. Well, there were books on languages there, and it’s another place to ogle at girls. Anyway, there was once when we both split to find our own stuff, and when I found him again, he was at a table, reading a book.

“Game Theory?” I looked at the cover and read aloud.

“It is the study of how two or more parties make decisions in relation to each other. A very good example is the Prisoner’s Dilemma,” he said without looking up.

It is very simple, actually.

Assuming that Kanna will accept either of our love declaration, but not both, I can declare my love for Kanna. If Ichiro follows suit, then things would be a mess between the three of us. If he doesn’t, then Kanna and I would be together. I can choose not to. Then, if Ichiro does, Kanna would be with him, and I would be all alone. If he doesn’t, things will remain as they are, as they have been for the past 5 years.

Or is it?
***
Kanna
From my house, the Tokyo Tower can be seen. In fact, I was looking at it, a brilliant orange spire illuminating the darkness. Then, the glow disappeared.

That was how I knew it was midnight. Tomorrow. A brand new day had begun.

I Wish’s Asu e no Tobira suddenly played. It was my phone. Who could be calling at this hour?

“Hello?”

“Hey Kanna, it’s me.”

I laughed in delight. It was Ken. “Hey! How have you been? Where are you now?”

“Look out of your window.”

I went to the window again. There he was, waving to me. It was him, alright. “Wait for me.”

I ran down the 4 flights of stairs to the ground floor and threw my arms around him. “I can’t believe you are back! Why didn’t you say you were coming back?”

“You didn’t ask.” He chuckled.

I stepped back and narrowed my eyes. “Idiot.”

“I took the airport limousine here just to see you and all you can say is ‘idiot’?”

“Well, I am touched, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are one.”

“Whatever you say. Do you have space for me up there?”

“There is plenty of space here.”

“What happened to all our years of friendship?”

“Over the moment you left two years ago.”

“Yet you gave me this address back then.”

“So?”

“You wanted to make sure I would write to you. So you gave me your new address in Tokyo, even though you hadn’t moved in.”

“So?”

“So you still see me as friend.”
“Well, I changed my mind after your plane left the airport.”

“Whatever you say. You are certainly very disagreeable today.”

“Ok, I am going up.”

“What about me?”

I laughed. “Okay… but you have to pay rent!”

He laughed.
***
Ichiro
My phone sounded. I flipped it open.

Guess what? Ken is back. He’s at my house now. Just touched down not long ago.

That’s great. Tell him I said Hi.

I picked up the photo of the three of us. It was taken during our last summer vacation of high school. At Suma Beach. We went in the late afternoon. Perhaps we knew that we would never have the chance to do this again, at least not as teenagers, so we had the fun of our lives, with sparklers and everything. When we finally stopped, we were just in time to catch the sunset. We talked. We talked for a really long time. At that moment, I was really happy. So happy that I really wished time would just stop, so that the three of us would be forever like that, happy together, in bliss. But time slipped by, and so did our consciousness.

Suddenly, Ken woke us up. Sunrise.

“Let’s take a photograph!” he suggested excitedly.

“Another one?”

“This time, it will be special,” he insisted.

And so, he set his camera up. As the camera timer beeped, the three of us stood there, hands on hips, staring out into the sunrise, staring into our future. Ready to face the challenges, ready to see out our dreams to the end.
***
Kanna
Ken was singing in the shower. Ken Hirai’s Missing you~ it will break my heart. A song from January 2002. A song from those happy days.

“Don’t sing such a song!” I shouted.

“What?” he shouted back.

“I say, don’t sing such a sad song. Choose a happy song. You are back!”

“What’s new? I don’t know any new songs.”

“Well, there’s asu e no tobira by I Wish…”

“How does it sound like?”

I sang for him.
***
Ken
Listening to Kanna’s voice, I felt as though I was being transported back to 18 March 2002. Kansai International Airport.

“Have you brought everything you need?” Ichiro asked.

“Me, my camera, my journal, this pen. What more do I need?” I grinned.

“Write some postcards on the way or something, yeah?” he said.

“I still have some time…let’s go for a drink.”

We found ourselves at a café, the three of us. Ichiro offered to buy the drinks. “Chocolate for Kanna, Latte for Ken, right?”

The two of us nodded. We sat without a word for a while, both of us staring into space.

“Take care of yourself over there ok?”

“I will. Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

She turned to look at the counter. The next thing I knew, her face was directly in front of me. She tilted her head and I felt her kiss my cheek.

“Goodbye kiss,” she said.

“What took you so long?” she asked Ichiro when he appeared at our table with the drinks. He merely shrugged.

There was a look of uncertainty in her eyes.

I stepped out, drying my hair with the towel.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

I shook my head.

“Great! Let’s go Kobe.”

Domani 2

Ken
I nodded to the man as I squeezed past him to get to my seat.

“Good morning,” he said in Spanish.

“Good morning,” I wished him back. I was still a little sleepy; it was barely six, and an airport bench wasn’t exactly the most comfortable bed.

“Why are you going to Japan?” he asked me in Spanish.

I looked at him strangely. “I am Japanese.”

He blinked.

Later on, the air stewardess would ask me what I want in Spanish. I was able to handle her question in Spanish. To tell the truth, I don’t really speak Spanish. I know the basics, but let’s not kid myself, my Spanish is really elementary.

I have always loved languages. I enjoyed English classes, although I found the pace a little too slow; I was probably more advanced than my peers. I taught myself French in junior high, and dabbled a little in Italian, German, even Korean, which I picked up from the lady who owned a little shop selling groceries not far from my uncle’s house. But I never touched Spanish.
Until when I was 18, my aunt gave me a box, which she said belonged to my mother. Inside, was a photograph of my mother, along with a Spanish-Japanese dictionary.

When I was young, my dream was to travel the world and take pictures of all the beautiful things I see. I would stare at maps in the library, read travel guides, pick up travel brochures.

But I never thought that I would one day find myself in Spain, let alone Madrid. When I was in Paris, however, I felt that I could no longer run away from it. I wanted to go to Madrid, to see what it was like. I didn’t believe I would find her in Madrid, I just wanted to understand her, see the things she see, look from her perspective.

But in Madrid, I found myself instead.
***
Ichiro

The girl pushing the trolley with refreshments stopped beside me. I smiled and shook my head. She returned my smile and proceeded.

I was on the 11:05 Nozomi Super-Express, bound for Tokyo.

I looked at the paper bag on my lap. Two years of effort was contained within it, if you only consider the time I spent undergoing proper training.

“Welcome!” I heard Rie say.

“Uh…is there a Kenichi working here?”

“Rie, I’ll take over…she’s my friend.” I emerged from the kitchen upon hearing her voice.

Rie looked at me, then her and nodded.

“Hello!” she grinned. “I come at this time, because I thought it would be less busy, and we could chat.”

“Stupid, we need to prepare, we don’t really make the pastries only after the orders come in…”

“Oh…” she was a little crest-fallen.

“Never mind, my master isn’t around, so I can talk.”

She brightened up. “What’s nice?”

I thought for a while, went to the counter and selected a few.

“Did you make this?”

“No, my master made it. It’s his specialty.”

“What about this?”

I nodded. She tasted it and smiled. “It’s very nice! Did you create it?”

I shook my head. “I am learning from him. I haven’t thought about my own creations yet.”

“Why don’t you create something for me? Can I be the first one you create a pastry for?” she thought for a while. “Hmmm you can call it ‘Kanna.’”
***
Ken

As I opened my journal, a photograph fell out onto my lap.

“That’s a pretty girl. Your girlfriend?” Mr Garcia, who had mistaken me for a Spaniard, peered at the photo.

“No…she’s my best friend.”

He chuckled.

When I was six, I sat down on a bench at the playground near my uncle’s house and cried.

A little girl around my age came up to me. “Please don’t cry.”

I looked at her and stopped crying.

“I am Ito Kanna, what’s your name?”

“Kanna, we have to go.” A lady appeared beside the girl and led her away.

She turned around and waved. “Please don’t cry anymore!”

On hindsight, I guess with enough time, I would gradually forget about her, even though at that moment in time, to my childish mind, she was like an angel. As it happened, I met her again in grade two of elementary school. She was assigned to sit beside me.

When I was a kid, I used to cry a lot, partly because of what I was going through, and partly because I was often bullied and ostracized due to my looks. I never really belonged; Kanna was my only friend. She was more like an elder sister to me, speaking up for me, telling the other kids off.

The irony was that while I had recognized her from her face and her name, she gave no sign of having remembered ever meeting me at that playground. Somehow, I chose not to bring it up.

We were classmates for the rest of elementary school, after which, we went our separate ways. On the last day of school, she wrote her address and telephone number on a slip of paper, which I kept in my folder. But we never kept in touch, because on my way home, as I skipped gaily, I ran into some of the kids from school, and they pushed me and emptied my bag. I could only watch in horror as they shook out all the contents of my folder, as the slip of paper Kanna gave to me floated into the canal.

But as fate would have it, I met her again in high school. We weren’t in the same school; she was in some private, all-girls school. But one day, Ichiro told me that he was meeting someone, and would like me to come along. I suspected that it was a girl.

Even though Ichiro and I are best friends, we are very different. For one, he excelled in his studies, while I barely scraped through. He was on the baseball team while I was on the football team. He was methodical, while I was careless. He seldom talked to girls and always rejected them; actually, I was often the one who had to go up to those poor girls and tell them, ‘Sorry, but Kenichi is not free this weekend(again).’ Whereas my foreign looks had been a bane in elementary school, I suddenly found myself popular among the girls in high school, which I suspected was due in part to my exotic looks, and in part to my easy-going manner. In contrast to Ichiro, I had many girlfriends.

I had come a long way from an introverted child struggling to cope with the cruel joke God played on him to a confident teenager. That day, I had told myself that from that point on, I was going to be strong, because Kanna wasn’t going to be there to take care of me any longer.

I was certainly shocked to see Kanna. Yet again, she showed no sign of recognition. Again, I decided not to try to invoke her memory. Nevertheless, we clicked. From that day onwards, the three of us often hung out together.

To me, those were the happiest days of my life.
***
Kanna

“Hey Kanna! Aren’t you going to join us for lunch?”

“Nah,” I shook my head. “I have something on…”

“A date?”

I narrowed my eyes and we both laughed.

“What about afternoon’s practice?”

I put my finger on my lips and winked.

She shook her head in mock disapproval.

I started to break into a run. I was running late. True enough, when I reached the station, he was already there.

“I am sorry I am late!” I was still trying to catch my breath.

He laughed. “I guess we are even now?”

“What is it that you have in there?”

“You will know later. Where are we going?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere where we can sit down, talk and watch the world pass?”

“A café?”

He shook his head.

“Hmmm how about the Imperial Gardens? It’s just over there.”

“Sounds good.”

And so, we made our way there. We found a bench and sat down.

“So what’s in there?”

He handed me the paper bag.

I peered into it. I turned to look at him.

“That’s Kanna,” he said pointedly.

I broke into a wide grin. “I am going to try it… Oh, it’s really very nice. Have you tried it? Here…”

To be frank, Kanna was so much better than any of the other pastries I had ever tried, even his master’s specialty.

Ichiro was finally realizing his dream of becoming a pastry chef. I was happy for him, because it hadn’t been easy.

When we were in our last year of high school, Ichiro announced that he wanted to be a pastry chef. I dropped the plastic mug in my hand. He said he was serious. Ken gave him his full support. I looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes.

One night, Ichiro called me. He had somehow ended up in my area. I met him at the park in my neighbourhood. He had been crying.

That day, his homeroom teacher had talked to him about his future, as he had done with all his other students. He was shocked that instead of considering Todai, Waseda, Keio or even Hyogo, Ichiro wanted to be a pastry chef. His teacher must have gotten in touch with Ichiro’s parents, because when Ichiro reached home that day, they were waiting. His father and him had a big fight.

“If you want to pursue your so-called ‘dream’, fine. Get out of my house and don’t come back.” Ichiro said. “Those were his words.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“People tell me I can reach for the stars, I can achieve anything I want. I am just trying to do that. I don’t want to be a lawyer, doctor, scientist or whatever. That’s what they want. I know what I want.”

When Ichiro spoke like that, it was a little scary, because he was so filled with emotion, speaking with such force. But underneath that, there was his vulnerability.

“Is it wrong to want something else?”

Domani 1

Ken
11 March 2004

I was just outside El Pozo del Tio Raimundo Station when it happened. I heard two explosions. The train, which was just leaving the station, was in flames. Suddenly, people were running around, shouting like madmen. I understood that they were talking about terrorist attacks, about bombs. The fire raged. Everywhere was chaos and destruction, like a burning hell.

7:40 in the morning, and the world went crazy.

People were crying; people were shell-shocked; people were trying to escape from the inferno. I stood rooted to the spot. Someone grabbed me and pulled me away.

I learned later that it was not an isolated incident. Three other trains were similarly rigged with explosives. Even as I am writing this now, someone is dying. Such is the frailty of life. I wonder: why must men do this to each other?

On the last day of my life as a teenager, I realize that at 20, it was time to start taking responsibility for yourself.
***
Kanna
I opened the door and switched on the light.

“Surprise!” I suddenly saw many familiar faces gathered in front of me.

I smiled as realization hit me as to what they were up to.

“We are not about to let your birthday slip by just like this, uncelebrated. There’s a few hours left, let’s enjoy ourselves!” Yuki grabbed me by the arm and pulled me in.

“Food, drinks, music, company. Great way to say goodbye to teenage hood isn’t it…”

I managed to slip away to a corner, where I took out my phone and typed in a message.

“Enjoying yourself?” Koshi approached me.

I pressed ‘Send.’ “Uh huh.”

“Why are you always hovering around Kanna, Koshi? Are you trying to chat her up?” Ryuzo called out, and everyone laughed.

‘Are you trying to chat her up?’ It seemed so long ago, when he said that.

I was in my last year in junior high. One evening, after practice, I was walking home when I noticed a few boys of my age following me. I quickened my pace, but I could not shake them off. Before I knew it, they had surrounded me.

“Hey miss, why are you walking so fast?”

“Yeah…slow down, let’s chat.”

I held my bag close to me and turned away.

“Let’s get to know each other.”

“We can go to the arcade…”

“Are you trying to chat her up?”

We all turned in the direction of the voice. It was another boy, in the same uniform as my harassers.

“Yeah, so what if we are? Who are you, her boyfriend?”

“Yeah, that’s who I am. So get lost.”

They looked at each other and decided to retreat.

That, was how we met.
***
Ichiro
The doorbell rang.

“Coming!” I shouted. “Oh, it’s you.”

She smiled and said, “Happy birthday!”

I was still a little surprised. “Oh…Thank you.”

“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

I made way for her to enter my apartment. “I am sorry, it’s cramped and messy.”

“Well, it’s home,” she looked around. “So, this is where Kenichiro lives.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“I brought food and wine.”

I stared at her.

“Don’t look at me like that? I just don’t want you to be lonely for the last bit of your birthday.” She looked around. “Eh, this is nice.”

My eyes fell to the photograph she had picked up. That picture of us, the three of us with our backs faced to the camera, staring out into the Kobe sunrise, into the future.

“She looks like she is a very pretty girl. Is she?” She pointed.

Pretty? Of course she is pretty. But even so, she wasn’t the kind of girl I would fall in love with.

I first met her towards the end of junior high. She ran into some trouble with the troublemakers of my school, and I helped her out. She thanked me, and for a few minutes, we just stood there, without a word. Then, she held out her phone and asked for my number. I gave her, but never asked for hers. She was a stranger, a pretty stranger no doubt, but as I said, she wasn’t the kind of girl I would fall in love with.

In fact, I had all but forgotten about her when my phone suddenly rang, about two weeks later, close to Christmas.

“Hello?” No reply. “Hello?”

“Uh…hello…”

I waited.

“Hello…this is Ito Kanna.”

“I don’t know any Kanna.”

“I am the girl you helped that day…”

At that moment, it all came back. She asked me if I was free on Christmas Eve; she wanted to treat me to coffee to thank me for my help. I wasn’t willing, but she was insistent, even desperate. So I finally agreed.

We met at the Kobe Harborland. It was a little awkward at first. We went for a drink at a café. I had an iced vanilla drink; I just love vanilla and I always have cold drinks, even in winter. She had hot chocolate. She told me she loves chocolate. At that point in time, I thought all the girls in the world love chocolate. After that, we walked around a little. She wanted to take the Ferris wheel. As I dragged my feet, she grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the ticketing booth. Before I knew it, I was hundreds of feet above Kobe, looking at the sea, at the city.

After dinner, I made sure she got on her train, before heading to catch mine. On the train home, I realized that she was the first girl I ever dated.
***
Kanna
I stole a glance at my phone. Still nothing. I frowned.

“Anything wrong?” Yuki asked, concerned.

I smiled and shook my head. Before she could say anything else, I stuffed my phone into my pocket.
***
Ichiro
We sat, ate, drank, talked.

Till midnight. Till a new day arrived. That was how my birthday went. That was what the last few hours of my first day as a 20 year-old was like.

She fell asleep. After making sure she was comfortable, I went to wash up a little. When I stepped out from the bathroom, I realized that the light on my phone, which was being left to charge on the table, was on. I flipped it open.

Hey! Happy Birthday to Us =)
-Kanna
Time sent: 10:30 p.m.

I looked at the time. It was already 2 in the morning.

Hey, happy belated birthday. Sorry, I only could reply now.

I am angry.

I know, I know. Don’t be, ok?

You owe me one.

I am coming to Tokyo tomorrow. Let’s meet.

Really? What time are you arriving? Ok!

Around 2 in the afternoon. Where would be convenient?

How about Tokyo Station?

Ok, I will see you then. Go and sleep. Shoo.

Ok, ok. You too.
***
Ichiro
“You are taking the day off tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah…” Suddenly, I was afraid that he would change his mind.

“Go then. I feel bad that I couldn’t let you go on your birthday.”

I grinned. “Thanks!”

We packed up the shop and went our separate ways.

I stopped at the mailbox and reached for mine. There were a few flyers and a small package. I looked at the familiar handwriting.

To: Kenichiro Kuraki

I opened it. There was a small stack of photographs, along with a page torn out from a notebook.

Hey Ichiro,

Seems like I won’t be back for our birthday again this year. I am sending this in advance, in the hope that it would reach you on our birthday. Happy Birthday, my dear friend!

Best wishes,
Ken

P.S.: Hope you like the photographs; I was in France. Next stop: Spain.

I looked through the photographs as I climbed the stairs up to my apartment, a smile tugging at my mouth.

Sunset, The Sea, A basket of bread, Pastries, the Eiffel Tower, the Seine…

It was great to hear from Ken again. Ken is my best friend. How did we meet? You could say it was fate. On the first day of school in junior high, he entered the classroom and sat beside me, because that was the only seat left. He did not say a word.

The teacher entered and introduced herself as our homeroom teacher, Mrs Tanaka. Whipping out a folder, she proceeded to take attendance.

“Keita.” “Present.”

“Itsuki.” “Present”

“Yuri.” “Present.”

“Kenichi.”

Both our hands shot up. We turned to look at each other. Our hands went back to the tables.

Mrs Tanaka smiled. “Well, seems like we have two Kenichis. Kuraki Kenichi.”

I raised my hand again.

She continued with a few more names. “Nishino Kenichi.”

So, that was his name.

At first we hated it. We hated the natural association of us because of our names, simply because we were very different people. He was more laid-back, while I was more serious; he loves football, while I play baseball; I topped the school, while he just managed to get himself promoted. Above all, I looked Japanese, while he looked like a foreigner.

But we soon got used to it. By the time we entered the same high school, we became best friends.

It was to him that I introduced Kanna. They hit it off immediately.

It was Kanna who suggested calling me Ichiro and Ken, Ken. She said that ‘Ken’ suited his looks, while I bore a slight resemblance to Ichiro Suzuki, who was playing for our hometown team Orix Blue Wave at that time, and was also my personal hero.

That was how I became Ichiro, and he, Ken.

far post

McCulloch's goal for scotland against ukraine came from a good free-kick. no doubt, ukraine should have done better, but ferguson's ball was really clever, and very well-timed, such that mc culloch had enuff time to get into that sort of space.

the position McCulloch was in is one of the most dangerous position on the field, in my opinion. i feel that any ball played there can cause a lot of trouble.
Yellow: the ball can be slipped into the path of the player after a 1-2.

Red: a straight ground pass can be taken first touch by the attacker.

Grey: Throughballs that curl back into the path of the attacker are dangerous anywhere, seriously.

Green: the lobbing ball

Blue: the cross

i think this position is dangerous because it can easily become a far-post situation, and because there is usually more space there. the key to fully utilising the advantage your player gains by getting into this position is to play such a great ball that all he needs to do is to make sure he hits the target with one touch, or maybe 2 touches, 1 to bring the ball down, the other to strike it.

he may have space and time, but that can also be closed down very quickly, so the ball needs to be put into the net in the shortest amount of time. the best way to do this is to do everything else for the attacker. meaning you beat the whole defence for him with that service. all he needs to do is to make the connection.

that's the beauty of passing. one pass can take out the entire defence. of course watching a player run at defences is very exciting as well, but i really appreciate a good pass because it shows technical ability, tactical awareness, intelligence and creativity all at the same time.

being alive again

i am not under any illusions.
i know it won't be easy.

i am not afraid.
i am excited.

i am prepared to play.
i am looking to win.

i am feeling it.
it's coming back to me.

頑張ります
let's go
vamos
allez

jiyu

freedom and order are often put at opposite ends of the spectrum. for example, heightened security measures following terrorism threats are supposed to prevent terrorism, thus introducing order, although often at the expense of personal liberty. another example would be the stifling of democracy by certain states for the sake of stability.

is it really a case of having either but not both?

i think if people are mature enough, you certainly can have both. the freedom they have can be used to achieve order. i suppose it is called 'self-censorship'. you know how to behave.

maybe because there are immature people around, it is not quite possible to achieve this. after all, this is the ideal scenario, and as we all know, nothing in this world is quite the ideal.

but if i have to choose, i will always choose freedom. i think something really very important which i have learnt these two years is the value of freedom. i would rather be 'condemned to choose'. only by choosing can you take responsibility for yourself, because you can't provide any excuse: you alone made that choice.

i think freedom is a mechanism that enables you to do things because you either recognise that you have to, or because you want to. and i really think that a person who does something willingly is more likely to do it better than someone who does it unwillingly. the only case where i think this won't happen is when the latter is so capable that his effortless effort can be better than the former's sincere effort.

i also think that freedom is a very big factor in winning the hearts of people, in convincing them to be with you, rather than against you. i think this especially applies to people who are more ambitious, who crave the opportunity to express themselves. these are not people who are content to merely drift along, they want to be the difference.

but of course, you need a bit of enforced order, to give things a basic shape. everything else that occurs within is entirely up to the individuals. it is something like 75%freedom, 25%order. i think that is acceptable.

so some stuff i have learnt, jsut to add on, are the value of freedom, and the importance of freedom in bringing out the best of people, and also the role of freedom in winning people over.

because frankly, oppression and coercion don't work on mature, thinking people who are just dying to go out into the world and play on a higher level. on their level.

think about it: when your economy is still developing, you can focus on the low-tech stuff, but as it becomes developed, that won't be enough, you need to go up the ladder. similarly, when we are still young, we need more discipline, to prepare us for the road ahead. when we reach a certain stage, what we need is the freedom to unleash our creativity, because creativity is what will take us further. discipline is just something to make sure we don't go mad.

we are moving on, but they will forever stay at the bottom.

you must have heard what tevez and evra said about man u being the stronger team than arsenal, and about waiting and see arsenal's reaction after a first defeat before being able to properly evaluate arsenal's title credentials.

i think man u must be feeling a lot of pressure. they are the defending champions and they feel that they need to say this sort of thing, they need to play a little bit of mind games. and they are saying this only after they beat wigan 4-0, and that's after a few 1-0 victories, some of which were lucky. that 4-0 win must have given them some confidence in themselves to come out and say this.

we never talk about anything else but ourselves, how we haven't won anything yet, how we want to improve game by game, how we are proud that we are doing fine, when everyone had predicted otherwise.

as far as i am concerned, there is nothing to prove to man u. i know that if we go into every game playing to win, playing like how we have been playing, with style, courage and fortitude, and then to really step up the gear when the crunch comes, i think we can get the results we need. i don't need people to tell us if we can be champions. we know we can be. and may i cheekily suggest, what if we don't lose that game?

all the pressure is on man u, because they are in 2nd place, great. but they look up and arsenal are two points ahead with a game in hand. and wait, this is arsenal without thierry henry, shouldn't they be somewhere at the bottom of the table? man u r just so feeling the pressure, feeling the pressure of being defending champions and yet having to play catch-up.

and just a month ago, people were gushing about liverpool, how great they were. now when liverpool drew spurs 2-2 at home, they say: oh, we never really consider liverpool one of the big 4, it's always more like the big 3 right? get real.

it's still early, so i think we should just focus on ourselves. the target is this: 14 wins at home, 4 draws at home, 10 wins away, 8 draws away. total of 84 points. we got 90 points in that unbeaten season, but i think this season, you only need around 80 to win it.

9 home wins, 4 home draws, 8 away wins, 7 away draws to go.

random

i want to watch hero and closed note.

i think i should have watched hero when i was in japan. now i have to wait till 22 november. and i dun even noe if they are going to show closed note.

i saw closed note's book in the bookstores in japan. i really like looking at japanese books, because i like their book jackets. they are very nice, very artistic, and very emotion-evoking. it's just so different from english book covers.

the magic of phones

don't you miss the days when you don't dread phone calls, you don't dread incoming messages, because you know they will be nice, meaningful and brighten up your day?

one thing i realised was that in japan, i din really use the phone, except to get in touch wif my bro. and i didnt miss the phone at all. in fact, i began to understand why lch says having a phone is like being kept under surveillance by other people all the time. and i appreciated the tranquility. so much so that when i came back, i found my phone a little alien.

which is really weird, because previously i couldn't really live without my phone. nowadays, i realise that even though i always have my phone with me, i don't really look forward to hearing it sound off, because most of the time, what happens next is crap. bringing it around is more a formality. the magic is by and large gone.

actually, it is wrong to say that the magic is gone. it has merely been overwhelmed by the abuse of phones by some unpleasant thing. it's like how you can't see the sky because of pollution.

in a while more, the sky will clear up. and the magic will be seen again.

the rout that never was

roy keane can be very proud of sunderland, but give us credit, because we could have ended up on the wrong side of a 'classic' match. and that is not very nice, i can assure you.

it was absolutely crap that we allowed them to claw back from 0-2 down to 2-2. i thought our defending was bad, because our midfield wasn't getting all those 2nd balls. we have possession, but we tend to give them the ball back when we clear crosses. and this little possession that we return to them is actually very dangerous, because we are giving them a second chance to come at us straight again. that was how their first goal came about. of course, that kind of shot should have been easily dealt with; i didn't know what diaby, almunia and the defender on the line were doing. another thing we must understand is that letting your opponents pass around your box is very dangerous. that was how the second goal came about. i thought that our central midfield has been sitting too deep all this while, not just today. but it is a very delicate balance because you do need someone to just sit in front of your defence. i suppose it is a tradeoff, which is even more pronounced in our case because of the fact that 3 of our 4 midfielders are probably gonna be very offensive-minded. i think we need to work on our defence, because it is very disappointing to concede two goals to sunderland at home, and with all due credit to sunderland, they din have many clear chances other than these two. so they were accurate, which means we were crap.

but i tink we should be given credit because at 2-2, we could ahve lost everything. but we got the winner. and that is very important, because i think we should not just aim for an unbeaten home record, but also to get maybe 14 wins at home.

we put the ball in sunderland's net 4 times in the first 20 minutes. first, when the referee had already blown the whistle for a foul on fabregas just a few seconds before. but it didnt matter because van persie smashed the free-kick in. 3rdd was senderos' goal. 4th was when diaby smashed in hleb's low cross. the flag flew up, apparently because the linesman thought van persie was offside.

and we hit the post twice. toure and walcott. and adebayor should have scored when he turned the defender, only for him to place his shot just wide. so typical of him.

we should have demolished sunderland. but we made things hard for ourselves. thankfully, we pulled it off, but there is alot of things to work out.

i hope rosicky comes back soon, because diaby's left foot is like totally useless, and his style of play, while so effective against derby, has been somewhat of a liability these few games. too slow.

harajuku girl

it's kind of weird, really speaking german with a german for probably the first time in close to two years. but it was nice.

anyway, it was also very funny, because i was always going to lapse into japanese. it's like instead of saying 'ja', i was going to say 'hai'. and 'demo' instead of 'aber', etc etc. perhaps my mind is still in japan. anyway this is somewhat ironic, because in japan, when i couldn't think of the japanese word i needed, the first word that came up was probably german, instead of english.

looking back, i was probably like that girl in harajuku, that girl who was asking me for help, but because i couldn't understand her, i asked her to speak in english, and she said some gibberish.

well, i will never forget her, because after the gibberish left her mouth, she realised immediately that she was spouting nonsense and turned away, making a very funny/cute gesture.

too bad that she wasn't able to express herself in the end. too bad that my jap was really very limited.

too bad that we probably will never see each other again.

even though i know that she is just not the kind of girl i will like.

this is arsenal.

i can't say i learnt nothing in these 2 years, because to say that would mean i have let myself down.

i have learnt:
-to tolerate immaturity
-to tolerate the ridiculous
-to be honest with myself
-to identify what's important and what's not
-to be amused, rather than angered
-that understanding does not equate to agreement
-that you only need to answer to yourself
-that at 20, it's time to start taking responsibility for yourself.

some people don't understand that all the things they care about have no place in your future; nor do they understand that they sound silly here.

but to me, it's ok, because we are very close already.

if you want to play, then let's play.
you will realise that you didn't know me at all.
you will realise that i am alive again.
you will realise that you are going to lose.

COME ON!