1. Summer RainIn the blink of an eye, the drizzle turned into a downpour.
I held my books over my head as I dashed for the nearest shelter- the entrance of the Faculty of Law. Someone else was already there. It was a small space, so I was apologetic, as he shifted a little to make space for him, such that both of us were under the stone arch.
We stood there, watching the rain. I sighed, “I am going to be late. What a time to rain. I wonder who He is crying for.”
“Why would Heaven cry for anybody?” he spoke up, in a voice laced with…was it hurt, anger…or hatred?
“Because Heaven’s just like us- with emotions. And he cares for us.”
He laughed, somewhat cynically.
“Hey, do you believe in love?”
He looked at me. “Not really.”
I saw in his eyes his pain, as he continued, “There’s no forever.”
“It doesn’t have to be forever, does it? As long as you know you have loved, you should have no regrets. Or at least that’s what I think.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do. You know, why don’t you try doing more for yourself? Why don’t you smile more? Be happier. Not for anyone else but for your own sake.”
“The rain’s stopped. Weren’t you in a rush?”
“Oh. It’s really stopped. I got to run. Take care, and think about what I have just said!”
As I ran off towards the main library, I couldn’t help but turn my head back. But there was no one there. There was no sign of him at all.
He was gone with the rain.
Or was he even there in the first place?
2. The Artist
She looked a little crestfallen as the sky started to dim.
I walked up to her. “Can you do my portrait?”
Her eyes lit up and she nodded furiously. She gestured for me to sit down on the chair as she prepared her materials. I sat down and observed her. She was finally ready and she sat down on a stool, opposite me. She took a deep breath and started sketching me.
I watched her as she worked. Her eyes shifted, alternating between the easel and me. I never moved an inch. She would frown a little, deep in concentration. Then, she would smile slightly. I didn’t know if she was smiling to herself, or at me.
She narrowed her eyes as she stared at her work. Then she nodded to herself and worked on it furiously again, before pausing to take one long look at it. Abruptly, she stood up and grinned. She turned the easel so that I could see the portrait. I turned away from her expectant eyes, focusing instead, on my own portrait.
It was very well-done. I nodded in acknowledgement. She started to roll up the portrait as I took out the money. I handed the money to her, while she handed my portrait in return.
I looked at it for a while, before handing it back to her. “For you.”
She looked at me quizically.
I smiled. “Please don’t forget me again.”
She smiled. She didn’t understand, of course. What hurt me most was that she took it all in her stride, as if smiling was the most natural thing to do…as though it meant nothing to her at all…She had forgotten it all, as though to her, nothing had ever happened.
I left the square alone, without the portrait.
3. Stranger
Due to a train delay, I found myself at the café, sipping a latte and reading Murakami’s Norwegian Wood. The café was crowded with people like me, held up by the delay. I heard that more than one train was affected.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
I looked up from my book. It was a young man, with a cup and travel bag in each hand. I shook my head and gestured to him that it was all right for him to share the table with me.
“Murakami.”
I nodded. “He’s my favourite author.”
“I like his works too. But I prefer Sputnik Sweetheart.”
We started talking. About books, about the characters in the books, about movies, about our philosophies…we talked about things you normally wouldn’t talk about with a stranger. Maybe not even with a friend.
We talked until the announcement regarding the resumption of train services was made, interrupting us. I looked at my watch. It was already eight. We had talked for more than an hour. Time flew, yet froze. During the time we spent talking, it felt as though the world had come to a standstill, and we were lost in our own world. But in reality, time had flown quickly. Far too quickly; I would have wished for a little more time, or at least for time to pass less quickly.
But it was time for us to get going. He raised a hand in acknowledgement before turning around and walked away. We were catching different trains.
As I watched him disappear into the crowd, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t asked him for his name and number. But perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. We were like two parallel lines, two trains on parallel tracks that would never have met had it not been for a glitch.
Would I even remember his face in a week’s time?
I picked up my bag, and hurried to catch my train.
4. Bus StopLooking out of the glass window of the train, I spotted a couple at a bus stop. As the train passed the bus stop, I noticed that the girl was dressed simply, as though she was at home, while the boy was dressed as though he was going out. She was probably seeing him off.
The train had already left the bus stop and the couple behind. I saw a bus approaching on the street below, headed towards the bus stop.
Even though they both wouldn’t say it, but they were both probably silently wishing that the bus would come a little later, maybe get delayed by the traffic light. Even a few more seconds would do.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
My attention turned back to the train carriage. A young man and a young woman stood facing each other, a little awkward.
“Why do you look so troubled?” the young woman asked.
“Troubled? Not really…I am just thinking.”
She smiled slightly, “Well, you always think too much.”
“After all these years, you are still the one who understands me most.”
She looked away and forced a smile. Her mouth shaped as though to say something, but stopped.
“Oji. Oji.” The train glided to a stop.
“You are happier now,” he said, smiling.
She looked up in surprise.
“I am getting off here. Take care.”
The train doors closed. Through the glass, I saw him wave cheerfully to her, who raised her hand slightly.
Back then, this probably wouldn’t have happened; he wouldn’t have stopped here, but stayed with her on the train till her stop, see her home, before taking the train back to this stop.
The train pulled away from the station, continuing on its way.
5. Orange HairbandEvery Tuesday and Thursday, without fail, while walking home from the station after work, I would bump into her at the corner of the street, where the convenience store is. She would be running, wearing her orange hairband.
Today was a Thursday, so as I anticipated, our paths crossed. As usual, we passed each other with nary a glance. But we were aware of each other’s presence. Once or twice, our eyes had met, and at that brief moment, there was a flicker of acknowledgement in her eyes. In this big city, in this particular neighbourhood, we had both become beacons in each other’s lives. Even though I would never know her name, and she would never know mine, seeing each other at those particular times gave us the assurance that everything was still normal. This routine, which was something for us to hold on to, had been in place for perhaps three months.
The difference today was that it was probably going to be the last time we meet, because I would be flying back tomorrow. And probably not coming back in a while.
Instinctively, I turned around. She was fast disappearing into the light mist. I wondered if she knew. I wondered what her reaction would be like, come next Tuesday. Would she be puzzled, or would she shrug it off as an anomaly? What about Thursday? Twice in a row- what would be going through her mind? Would she perhaps be worried?
Or would she even notice my absence?
6. Harajuku Girl
A year ago, I broke up with my girlfriend of 4 years, because she said she needed her own space. That night, I didn’t feel like going home, so I wandered around, and found myself at Ken’s Bar. It was a small place, tucked away from the world. When I entered, there was only five people in the room, a group of three at a table in a corner, and the two bartenders at the counter, one of whom was a girl, who couldn’t have been more than 20.
I went straight to the counter and she placed the drinks menu in front of me. I didn’t take even a glance, and asked, “What’s good for a broken heart?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Harajuku Girl.”
“I have never heard of that before.”
“It’s my own creation.”
“Give me that then.”
It was surprisingly good. And I did feel better after it. But she refused to tell me anything else about it. We did talk about almost everything else though, including my relationship problems. I can’t really remember what exactly did we say; what I did remember was her saying, “if she were important enough to you, you wouldn’t even have let her go in the first place.”
At that time, that struck me hard. Anyhow, I went back almost every day, sometimes waiting till she knocked off to see her home. Was I falling in love with her? I honestly didn’t know, not that I ever thought about it anyway.
But one day, when I had something important to say to her, she wasn’t at the counter when I arrived.
“She isn’t here today?” I asked her colleague casually.
“She called this morning to take a week off. It was rather sudden.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No,” he shook his head.
I called her. But it was only on perhaps the fifth try that she picked up.
“Where did you go?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I am concerned. Did something happen?”
“What do you take me for?” she snapped as I heard the unmistakeable click of the phone being hung up.
We never saw each other again after that.
A year on, I found that old address and made my way there, taking a few wrong turns. I opened the door gingerly and peeked in. I saw her.
She looks prettier now.
7. FireworksNew Year’s Eve, and I was in my car, driving along the expressway, heading home. The radio was on, and all they talked about on air was New Year wishes, resolutions, everything to do with festive joy.
“The time now is already 11:59! We are in the last minute of 2007!”
I stole a glance at the time. It was indeed 11:59. She babbled on a little more with her partner as the digits flickered with each second that ticked by.
“10. 9.”
I slowed down.
“8. 7. 6. 5.”
I parked my car by the side of the empty expressway.
“4.”
It was of course illegal. But everyone was elsewhere celebrating the coming of the New Year.
“3.”
I got out of my car and leaned against the railing. From my vantage point, the city was beautiful, with the lights on.
“2.”
I couldn’t help but joined in the countdown as well, albeit under my breath.
“1! Happy New Year!”
I heard crackling and suddenly, a bright light appeared from nowhere and streaked upwards, cutting through the night sky, before exploding into a golden shower that seemed to rain down on the city. I watched on as the fireworks continued, dazzling and brilliant, but only momentarily.
Somewhere in the city, she was probably watching as well.
We might have come from two different worlds, but at that moment when our worlds had collided, dazzling fireworks was produced too.
It lasted all of five days. We parted while our lips still tasted sweet; we let go, while it still felt like eternity… so that it would forever be engraved on our hearts.
It was short, but beautiful, nonetheless.
Think of me sometimes, she said.
8. 12:03 A.M.“17 dollars 40 cents, your change is 2 dollars 60 cents,” she rattled off mechanically, handing me back the change.
“Thank you,” I muttered under my breath as I looked around the convenience store.
“Is there any problem, sir?”
“Uh…no, not really. I am…I am looking for someone.”
“What does the person look like?”
“She was here four days ago. The girl with long hair, wearing a white coat, slim, about your height. Do you remember? She was here at around this time, buying a maple cuppucino.”
“Wait, did you say maple cuppucino?”
“Yeah, can you remember anything?”
“I think you must be talking about Sakaki Jyuri. She always comes at around midnight to buy a maple cuppucino. I remember her because maple cuppucino is my favourite. She told me that it was the favourite of someone she loves a lot. We get along quite well and she would stay a little just to chat. Oh, she did tell me that she’s leaving on Friday. A midnight flight.”
“Friday?” I looked at the calendar at the counter. Today’s Friday.
She noticed my eyes on the calendar. “I guess she should be on the plane now.”
“I guess so…thank you anyway.”
“You are welcome.”
“Uh, may I ask you another question?”
“Sure.”
“Why do you work the night shift?”
“It’s quieter at night. In the day, it’s so noisy, so chaotic…I just feel that I have to be away from that.”
As I stepped out into the coolness of the night, I couldn’t help but think that we were all alone in this big city- Sakaki Jyuri, the girl at the convenience store, me.
9. CassetteI was somewhat nervous as I waited at the arrival lounge of the airport. I heard from her best friend that she was coming back for the first time in two years.
About a month after she left, I received a parcel, with a cassette inside, but with no letter, no clue as to who the sender was. I put it into the player and pressed ‘Play.’
I heard the sound of someone clearing her throat and realised it was her. “Uh. Uh. Ahem. Hi. How are you? The weather here is really cold. I am not really used to life here yet. The weather, the lifestyle, the food…everything. It’s just so different from home. Sometimes I really miss home a lot and regret coming here. Uhm…how are you? How is school? Ahem, uhm… [sniffs] you know… at the airport, even right up till the last moment, just before I went in, I never stopped believing… that you would turn up…to ask me to stay. It was very clear to me that if you had asked, I would have stayed. [sniffs, laughs softly] Hey, take care of yourself back there. Goodbye.”
I clutched the cassette tightly in my hands as I waited. I saw her best friend arrive at the lounge. But other than that one conversation where she told me about her impending return, we had more or less lost contact. Thus, I stayed where I was and slouched so that I was less visible.
It was to be an hour later when I saw the passengers from her flight stream through the glass doors to the warm embraces of their loved ones. That was when I caught sight of her. She hugged her parents and her best friend, and then turned to the man beside her. All five of them laughed and they went on their way.
As I made my way out to flag a cab, I threw the cassette into the dustbin.
That day when she left, I stayed late in the office where I was working temporarily. I stayed because I didn’t want to stand in the way of her dreams.
10. Love, with coffeeI looked at her sleeping figure on the sofa bed by the window. She looked so peaceful, like a baby. I caressed her face, and a slight smile formed at her mouth. I glanced out of the window. The sun was just beginning to awake from its slumber. I got up to draw the curtains to shut out the nascent light.
I went back to her and bent down to kiss her on her cheek. She smiled and adjusted her position slightly. Taking one last look at her, I took out the keys from my pocket- the keys to her apartment- and placed them on the table. Having done that, I walked to the kitchenette to check on the coffee brewing. It was ready.
I could never follow into her world, so I had decided to leave her that winter, as a new year was beginning. It would perhaps be easier for both of us to start afresh.
I opened the door and stepped out of her apartment, out of her life forever.
Leaving only the keys and a pot of freshly-brewed coffee.
11. Salad
“Miss, may I know what dressing was used for this salad?” I asked her, as she stood beside me, clearing the crockery of the other patron.
“Hold on,” she reached across the counter and fished out a small bottle, which she proceeded to show to me. “It’s this. It’s Japanese.”
I couldn’t read Japanese. “What does it say? Are you Japanese?”
She nodded, “Yes, I am Japanese. ‘Thousand Island.’”
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
I went back on Friday.
“The salad’s different today.”
“It changes every day.”
“I see.”
She nodded and smiled.
I watched her as she stood beside the guy in charge of the cooking. She was staring at the pan, occasionally looking at him, smiling. Then he said something, probably in Japanese, and they both laughed.
Watching them, I realised that there was no way a Korean man and a Japanese girl could ever love each other. There’s just nothing in common.
