‘Er, eh, yes,’ Makoto said, seeming a little embarrassed, which set off another round of laughter.
‘The day after tomorrow!’ a man named Narita, who was sitting across from Chizuru chimed in, giving Makoto a clap on the shoulder. ‘If you’re going to make a move, better make it quick, because this bachelor’s going off the market!’
‘Congratulations,’ Chizuru said.
Makoto thanked her quietly.
‘Congratulations!’ Narita echoed loudly, his voice a little slurred. ‘Congratulations for proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that some guys get all the luck!’
Makoto gave a self-effacing laugh and said, ‘Well, that’s hardly true, but thanks all the same.’
‘Nope!’ Narita smiled and shook his head. ‘It’s completely true.’ He looked over at Chizuru. ‘Listen to this, Ms Misawa. This guy is two years younger than I am and he’s already got a home of his own. Should that even be legal?’
‘It’s not technically mine, and it’s not even a house.’
‘Objection!’ Flecks of spittle came out of Narita’s grinning mouth. ‘I said “home”, not “house”, and I think an apartment you live in without paying rent counts as a home of your own.’
Makoto sighed. ‘It’s in my mother’s name. She’s just letting me live there. So, technically, we’re squatting.’
‘See, his mommy owns an apartment! If that’s not luck, I don’t know what is.’ Narita looked to Chizuru for some sign she agreed, while filling his own cup back up to the brim with sake. He tossed it back and kept talking. ‘Now when you say someone owns an apartment, you usually think a little two-room, three-room place, right? But not when it comes to this guy’s family. They own the entire building!’
‘Enough, already,’ Makoto said. He was still smiling, but it was clear to everyone but Narita that his patience for the conversation was already wearing thin.
‘No, I’m definitely putting my foot down. Especially when you consider that his bride-to-be is practically a beauty queen.’
‘Narita!’ Makoto frowned. He picked up the bottle of sake and topped off the man’s glass in an attempt to silence him.
‘Is she that pretty?’ Chizuru asked.
‘Oh, gorgeous,’ Narita said. ‘Could be an actress, no problem. And she does tea and flower arrangement too, right?’
‘A bit,’ Makoto admitted.
‘See what I mean? Speaks English too, fluently. Damn, man, what’s with all your good luck?’
‘Easy there,’ said the section chief at the end of the table. ‘There’s plenty of luck to go around. You’ll get yours soon enough, Narita.’
‘Yeah? I’d like to know when.’
The section chief nodded sagely. ‘Middle of next century, at the latest.’
‘That’s over fifty years from now! I don’t need luck when I’m dead!’
Chizuru joined in the laughter, glancing towards Makoto. For a moment, their eyes met. Something in his eyes made it look like he was trying to tell her something – or I’m overthinking things again.
The farewell party ended at nine o’clock. As the group began shuffling out of the door, Chizuru called Makoto over. ‘I brought you a gift, for your wedding.’ She pulled a thin, wrapped package out of her bag. ‘I was going to give it to you at work today, but I never found the time.’
‘Oh, you didn’t have to do that,’ he said, opening the package to reveal a blue handkerchief. ‘Thanks, this is really special.’
‘Thank you for the last six months,’ she said, giving a little bow.
‘I didn’t do anything to earn that, but you’re welcome. Where are you off to next?’
‘I’m going to go home, take it easy for a while. I’ll be leaving for Sapporo the day after tomorrow – your big day, in fact.’
‘Oh,’ he said, nodding as he put the handkerchief back inside the wrapper and slid it into his jacket pocket.
‘Your wedding’s going to be at that hotel in Akasaka, right? I’d come to watch through the window, but I think I’ll have to settle for waving from the train instead.’
‘You heading out early?’
‘Yes, I’m staying at a hotel in Shinagawa tomorrow night, so I can get going first thing.’
‘Which hotel?’
‘The Parkside.’
Makoto looked like he wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by a voice from the elevator. ‘What’s taking you two so long? Everyone’s downstairs already.’
Makoto smiled and turned towards the door. Chizuru followed behind him, like she had on so many tea breaks over the last six months. Like she never would again.
Makoto went home that night to the family home in Seijo. Once he officially moved out, only his mother and her parents – his grandparents – would be living there. It was his mother’s side of the family that owned all the land. His late father had moved in with them, and even taken his mother’s family name of Takamiya.
‘Only one more day!’ his mother announced cheerily when he arrived. ‘Tomorrow will be busy. I have to go to the hairdresser’s, and pick up some jewellery I had on order. I expect everyone up bright and early!’ She spread a newspaper over the antique dining room table and began to peel an apple over it.
Makoto sat across from her, pretending to read a magazine with one eye on the clock. Eleven, he thought. That’s when I need to call.
‘Makoto’s the one getting married,’ his grandfather said from where he sat on the sofa. ‘I don’t see why you have to get all dressed up.’ A chessboard was laid out in front of him, and he cradled a pipe in his left hand. He was already over eighty years old, but he walked with a straight back, and his voice still had a ring to it.
‘I disagree. This will be my only chance to attend my own child’s wedding. I think I should be allowed to dress up for the occasion, don’t you?’
Her last ‘don’t you’ was directed towards Makoto’s grandmother, who was sitting across from her husband, working on her knitting. She just smiled and said nothing.
His grandfather’s chessboard, his grandmother’s knitting, and his mother’s cheerful prattle – this was family life as Makoto had known it since he was a child. He loved that even tonight, two days before his wedding, it was no different. The house never seemed to change, nor did the people inside it.
‘To see my own grandchild getting married makes me feel ancient,’ his grandfather noted, thoughtfully.
‘It still feels a little early to me,’ his mother said. ‘You’re both so young, though I suppose you’ve been together for four years now and there wouldn’t be any difference if you waited longer.’
‘And this girl, Yukiho. She’s a good one. I’m happy for you,’ said his grandmother.
‘Yes, a good girl. Good head on her shoulders,’ his grandfather agreed. ‘Very solid for someone so young.’
‘I liked her from the moment Makoto brought her home. Girls with a proper upbringing are just different,’ said his mother, arranging apple slices in a bowl.
Makoto thought back to the first time he had brought Yukiho home to meet his family. His mother had been taken first by her looks, and second by the fact that she lived with an adopted mother. She empathised with that, and when she learned that the foster mother had taught Yukiho not only how to keep house but the tea ceremony and flower arrangement as well, her opinion of her had only grown.
Makoto ate two of the apple slices, then stood. It was almost eleven. ‘I’m going upstairs.’
‘Don’t forget, we’re having dinner with Yukiho tomorrow night,’ his mother said.
‘Dinner?’
‘Yukiho and her mother are staying at the hotel tomorrow, so I phoned them and asked if they’d like to eat together.’
‘You can’t just decide these things on your own,’ Makoto said, surprised at the sharpness in his voice.
‘You had other plans? You were going to meet Yukiho tomorrow night anyway, weren’t you?’
‘What time?’
‘I reserved a
table at the restaurant at seven. The French place in that hotel is quite famous, you know.’
Makoto left the living room in silence. He climbed the stairs and made for his own room. Other than the clothes he had bought recently, nearly all of his possessions were still here in this room. He sat down in front of the desk he’d used since coming home from college and picked up the phone lying on top of it. It was his own private line, and they still kept it connected.
He checked the list of numbers on the wall and started dialling. Kazunari picked up after two rings.
‘Hello?’ He sounded disgruntled. He’d probably been in the middle of a relaxing evening listening to classical music in his room. Kazunari lived alone in an apartment in Yotsuya, right in the middle of Tokyo.
‘Hey, it’s me.’
‘Hey.’ Kazunari’s tone lightened a little. ‘What’s up?’
‘Can we talk?’
‘Go ahead.’
‘OK, this is kind of big, and I’m guessing it’s going to come as a bit of a shock. Just promise you won’t freak out.’
He was pretty sure Kazunari had already guessed what he was about to say, but there was silence from the other end of the line. Makoto listened to the hiss of the telephone line in his ear. The noise had been steadily getting worse over the past few months. Sometimes it was so bad he couldn’t hear who he was talking to.
‘This about what we talked about the other day?’ Kazunari finally said.
‘Yeah.’
‘Oy.’ Makoto heard him laughing, though it didn’t sound like he was smiling. ‘You’re wedding’s in two days, isn’t it?’
‘You said you’d call it off the day before if you had to.’
‘I did say that,’ Kazunari said, breathing a little loudly into the phone. ‘You serious?’
‘I am.’ Makoto swallowed and said, ‘I’m gonna tell her how I feel tomorrow.’
‘And by her, you mean this temp worker? Chizuru, was it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So you tell her how you feel, then what? You going to propose?’
‘I haven’t thought it through that far. I just want her to know how I feel… and I want to know how she feels. That’s all.’
‘What if she doesn’t feel anything at all?’
‘Then at least I’ll know.’
‘You mean you’ll go marry Yukiho the next day, like nothing ever happened?’
‘Not the most upstanding thing I’ve ever done, I know.’
‘Nah,’ Kazunari said, ‘I think you gotta do what you gotta do. What’s important is that you don’t leave any regrets.’
‘I’m glad to hear you say that.’
‘The problem,’ Kazunari went on, ‘is what to do if she says she likes you too.’
‘Well —’
‘Think you can just throw it all away?’
‘I can.’
He heard Kazunari breathing on the other end of the line.
‘That’s going to be harder than you might think, Makoto. You’re going to be putting a lot of people through a lot of hell, and you’re going to hurt a few of them. Most of all Yukiho.’
‘I’ll make it up to her. I’ll do whatever I have to.’
They were both silent for a while, with just the crackling hiss of the telephone line between them.
‘Well, sounds like you’ve made up your mind. I’ve got nothing to say.’
‘Sorry to put you through this, man.’
‘Don’t worry about me. I’m just wondering what the day after tomorrow is going to be like. Gives me goosebumps.’
‘Yeah, I’m nervous too.’
‘I bet you are.’
‘On that note, I need to ask a favour of you. Are you free tomorrow night?’
The day that would decide his fate dawned cloudy. After eating a late breakfast, Makoto had gone to his room and sat staring at the sky. He hadn’t been able to sleep very well, and his head was pounding.
Makoto had been racking his brains for a way to get in touch with Chizuru. He knew she was staying in a hotel in Shinagawa that night. If it came to it, he could try seeing her there, but if at all possible he wanted to meet her during the day and lay it out.
Yet he’d never seen her outside the office, so he didn’t know her address or phone number. Their company didn’t keep records of that information for temp workers in the usual places, either. His section chief or division chief might know, but he wasn’t sure how he could ask them. That, and it was a Saturday. There wasn’t any guarantee they’d have her contact information at home.
There was only one route left to him. He would have to go to work and try to find her contact information there somehow. It was a Saturday, but there were doubtless some people there over the weekend. No one would look twice at him for coming to work to find some things.
Makoto stood from his chair, ready to go, when the doorbell rang. A bad premonition made his heart beat faster, and a minute later, his fears were confirmed when he heard the sound of his mother’s felt slippers coming up the steps.
‘Makoto,’ he heard her say from the other side of the door. ‘Yukiho’s here.’
‘Be right there.’
He went down to find his fiancée in the living room, having tea with his grandparents. She was wearing a dark brown dress.
‘Yukiho brought some cakes. Would you like one?’ his mother asked. She seemed to be in an unusually cheerful mood.
‘I’m fine. What’s up?’ he asked, turning to Yukiho.
‘There are some things I needed to buy for the honeymoon. I thought you might like to come with me,’ she said in a cheery sing-song. Her almond-shaped eyes glittered like two jewels. She had the look of a bride, and it sent a sliver of pain through Makoto’s chest.
‘Right, well, hmm. I was going to drop by the office.’
‘The office? Today?’ His mother frowned, wrinkles forming between her brows. ‘I can’t believe they make you come in to work on the day before your wedding.’
‘It’s not work, exactly. There were just some things I want to take a look at.’
‘We could go on the way,’ Yukiho said. ‘Didn’t you say that people from outside the company were allowed to visit on weekends?’
‘Well, that’s true, but —’ Internally, Makoto was panicking. Her offer to come along had caught him by surprise.
‘Always the company man,’ his mother said, frowning. ‘What’s more important? Your family or your job?’
‘Fine, fine, you know, it’s really not that important, I’ll just put off going today.’
‘I don’t mind, honestly,’ Yukiho said.
‘No, it’s OK. Really,’ Makoto smiled at his betrothed. The confession to Chizuru would have to come that night, at the hotel.
He had Yukiho wait while he got changed and went up to his room. He fished a jacket out of his dresser and phoned Kazunari. ‘It’s me,’ he said as soon as his friend picked up. ‘Remember that back-up plan we discussed?’