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.
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.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home