Chapter Three – Bad News and Good

It was evening. The day still held its heat, although now the powerful oven of afternoon had dissipated to a pleasant warmth. The kind of temperature when you could wear just a tee shirt and shorts and go out walking in the dark. The trees on the hilly part of town were mysterious in the gloom. Shizuku and Seiji walked in the shadows along a lane. There were streetlights here on the hillside roads but not close together and the low hanging branches created mysterious pools of darkness between them. Seiji wheeled his bike beside him; they had ridden up here and later he'd ride her home on it before going home himself.

They came to a wire fence beside the road and climbed through a hole - a hole no doubt used by children but no-one else. On a patch of waste ground beside a water tower were scrubby bushes, a concrete berm. They walked to the top of this berm and jumped down a step. A wide view from the hilltop opened before them. A panorama extending mile after mile towards Tokyo city centre. The sky was darkening and the first stars were out. Over the city in the distance the indigo of the night sky was polluted by the light made by men. The distant rumble of the deep ocean reached them even here, this wide sea, this city, was never quiet. A train passed in the distance.

This was Seiji and Shizuku's special place. For month upon month he'd come here alone, at night, or sometimes just before dawn. He'd stand and watch the light fade or grow. Watch the sun rise or see the shadows lengthen as it set below the hill behind him. His heart would feed on this view, here he could escape from the things he needed to escape from, put them aside for a few precious minutes. Last November (the eleventh it was - how he remembered that day) he had come here again, just before dawn at the lightening of the sky, in the frosty crispness of the late autumn. It had been the kind of secret morning when your breath clouds the air and ice formed on things changing them into something mysterious.

But that morning he hadn't been alone. He'd been back many times over the changing seasons but since then never alone. She was always with him. Sometimes he'd get up at a stupid hour in the dark and ride to her apartment, meet her and bring her here. She'd be waiting, dressed and ready for school. Three rings on the phone meant he was coming. They'd ride here and watch the sunrise. Often they'd not even speak. There was no need. Then he'd take her to the station and they'd catch the train to school. When they boarded the train their silent bond would stay with them, linking them in a way special only to them. They would stand by the train doors and in silence just look at each other. Each was like a meal to the other, each was like the necessary food that kept the other alive. No matter how hard work was at school or at home when families argued, if they were buffeted by whatever storms, provided they had each other then that was enough. To everyone else they were two ordinary students, anonymous among thousands. But they knew different.

Seiji sat down, leaning back against the concrete berm. He got comfortable and shifted his legs apart. Shizuku sat between them, her back to him, leaning back in his lap. The boy put his arms gently round her tummy, she rested her hands on his. They sat in silence watching the city, tracing the passage of the distant railway trains as they snaked among the hills, the buildings. There were times when they could sit like this, silently and need nothing else. Touching wasn't that important, and looks and words certainly weren't. Silence in each other's company was enough. She sometimes thought that these times were the best, the calmest, the warmest. If they had this, without the need to pollute the moment with communication, surely this was true love. Shizuku, her eyes half closed, her thoughts far away, began to hum broken snippets of a tune to herself. It was Country Road.

Seiji stared at the view. His brow furrowed and his mind seemed to chase a problem, the troubled thought passed over his eyes. A waft of breeze ruffled his hair.

"Shizuku?"
"…Mmm?"
"Was it hard for you when I was in Italy for two months?"
"Yes, I missed you a lot. But in a way it helped me too because I got so much done. I really found out a lot about myself, what I could do, what I still need to do to be better."
"Well… Um... I have some bad news. And some good…" She sat up and turned to look at him,
"What?"
"The bad news is I'm going away for a few weeks in August, uh… about three weeks. The same violin maker I went to before is holding a special summer course."
"Oh, Seiji, that's great – will you get special tuition?" Shizuku's face clouded, her eyes didn't agree with her words.
"That's right. This master only offers places to the most promising students he has seen over the last year. It's a great honour that he contacted grandpa and mentioned my name specifically. That means he thinks I show potential. It's going to really help me."
"This is hard. I was looking forward to being with you all summer."
"Well, that was the bad news. There is good news too…," he had a glint in his eye.
"Tell me!"
"I knew you'd be unhappy about this. So I contacted the place in Cremona and asked a few questions about the residential arrangements…"
"And…?"
"Well… how would you like to come too?"
Her face lit with surprise, with excitement, "What? Go with you? Oh, Seiji, that would be amazing!"
"Whoa – wait, wait," he lifted a hand toward her, palm outwards in a defensive gesture, "You need to discuss this with your parents. Grandpa and my mom and dad have agreed to cover my costs but you… well, you know…," he shrugged, "the flight won't be cheap…"
"I'll talk to them right away!" She jumped up.
"Please don't get your hopes up too high. Look, I've committed myself to going, it's a big break for me. But I know you'll be upset if you can't go, so please, you need to be realistic about this, the world can't revolve round you all the time."

It was later, the short summer night had finally chased away the day. Seiji had taken Shizuku back and cycled home to work late - again - at his school studies. The Tsukishima family's danchi had some windows lit, others dark. From somewhere in another apartment a TV faintly chattered.

In the kitchen-diner a meeting was going on. The table had on it the usual family clutter. Even though Asako detested it, her husband Yasuya still sometimes smoked in the apartment. The ashtray on the table contained the debris of a stressful evening spent wrestling with spreadsheets and reports on the computer, compiling data for the library. Shizuku sat at one side of the table, her mother and father at the other. The three of them seemed to be in familiar seats, as though this were a common routine. Shizuku's father was speaking.

"I realise how important this is for you Shizuku, but it is very expensive. And the issue is its three weeks away from your study time. You can't afford to take a holiday like this when it's important that you prepare for school in September."
"And we worry about you," her mother stated the obvious, "You will be on the other side of the world, all alone…"
Shizuku whined, "Mom, I won't be alone. I will be near the teacher that Seiji is with, I'm sure he will keep an eye on me, please don't worry on that account."
"Of course we worry," she replied, "you've never been so far away from home before."
"Dad, I can take my school work with me. I'll have lots of time for that when Seiji is in his classes. And it will be such an opportunity. I'll try learning another language and – and… there is so much great stuff in Italy – history and art and everything, it will be the experience of a lifetime! Think how much it will help me when school opens again in September!"
"What, lying by a pool sunning yourself for three weeks?" Yasuya folded his arms.
"Dad! It won't be like that. I promise I'll study whenever I can."
"You said that last year," her mother went onto the attack again, "and look what happened then, you got this writing project started and your grades went down so steeply. We were worried. How can we trust you?"
"Mom. You can. I'm older now. I promise."
Her father considered this a moment: "Well, as long as you promise not to waste the time…."
"You mean I can go? Yaaaaaay!" Shizuku leapt up.
"We still have to consider the cost Shizuku," her mother held deeper fears, a mothers fears, "this is going to take a huge chunk out of the money we have saved up."

But it was too late, the girl ran around the table and hugged her mom
"Mom, dad, you're so cool. I love you!"