Counting the Differences
Chapter Thirty-Six: Distance

Minami squeezed his phone after staring at the message screen, fighting the dizzying array of shame and urgency.

He cleared the screen and with a quick shut of his eyes, he pressed the phone icon to dial Kozue's number.

Both scenarios of her answering and not answering drowned him in anxiety. He jerked forward in his chair when her quiet voice answered on the last tone. He deserved the snippy annoyance in her tone and he hoped he could make it right.

"Ne Kozue…listen I'm sorry for not getting back to you sooner. Can we talk? To be honest… your wealth terrified me. I've never seen that much money in my life and I choked." She hadn't hung up yet so he continued, a little calmer. "So I stopped messaging you. It wasn't you or anything you did. But…I don't know. I've thought about it and I think it would be so stupid of me to stop talking to you because I was so insecure about it. I understand if you don't want to see me—"

"No Minami," She sighed. "You're right. It was naïve of me to sweep it under the rug. I should have given you some warning but…it's tricky for me too."

"It's just…I don't know. Something happened recently that put it into perspective and I woke up."

Yankumi sipped her warm sake, cradling the ceramic cup under her nose. "Ne, Minoru, Tetsu…why aren't either of you drinking today?" She reached her cup out to the portly man for a refill. "How can I fix the situation when the players involved are inaccessible?" She referred to the US military officials, closed off to civilians in their locked fortress after protests broke out once the story hit the news.

Son of senator pummeled by military recruit was eaten up even by the most pro-US military. Though Yankumi read with relief that Sawada Shin was not named or pictured in the articles or news.

The emergency meeting really demonstrated what Yankumi wasn't capable of, Sawada and the officials shoving her and everyone else out to parley behind closed doors.

She breathed in the sake's aroma, drilling her mind for an answer. Sawada had plodded upstairs that day finally saying with clear words that he was moving back home.

When Yankumi and his friends shouted after him, jumping from their seats, Shin looked over his shoulder with an unanimated glazed look—one he always wore lately. "It wasn't my decision."

"Sawada!" The door slammed then and Yankumi remembered her heart pattering with urgency yet the teacher could only stand back, hopeless on what to do or how to stop it.

Kuma informed her afterwards that Natsumi and her need for support sparked the decision. For Natsumi, Shin would move mountains, but even the sacrifice to return home filled him with dismay.

His home in leafy Den-en-chōfu had overnight also become an impenetrable fortress—for Natsumi's safety—but Yankumi was without recourse. Neither Davina nor Shin answered her phone calls.

"Minoru…Tetsu," Yankumi drank her whole cup, the aroma reaching her skull. "At least the yakuza thugs Natsumi got mixed with let up easily. So that's a victory right?"

Her hand plunked down and Minoru poured more sake. Neither sober man would risk even a sniff of sake in order to protect the secret deal they witnessed between Boss Kuroda and Gusawa. The traditional, old family Oedo, sold to be later liquidated like a chunk of property.

Their jobs were 'saved', to continue under 'new management' once Kuroda stepped down, with Sawada's debt forgiven as a cherry on top. Boss Kuroda made them all swear on their lives that he would be the one to inform Kumiko. Yet the secret weighed heavy on their hearts. They cared so much for her and however much they loved Oedo, the pain they experience would be a mere sliver compared to Kumiko's anguish.

"Right?" Yankumi raised her cup, wondering if they were even listening.

Tetsu forced his lips into a thin smile—the best he could muster. "Hai, ojou. A victory."

**Five weeks later**

Setting her bag down with heaviness not attributed to its actual weight, Yankumi spotted the empty desk at the back of her homeroom. Untouched since Sawada left, it remained a place holder. An empty spot in class, a vacancy of 3-D chain of command until one day.

Kuma, Minami, Noda and Uchi strolled in, interacting mutely when they stopped mid step.

Ooishi sat in Sawada's former desk, with Shimazu, Gamao, Takeda, Matsuzawa, Sengoku occupying the other spots.

Uchi with the other three in his wing surrounded the five. "What the hell is this Ooishi?"

Ooishi peered over his shoulder, feigning boredom.

"We've given you time to get used to it. We're sorry too that Sawada is gone but 3-D is without a leader."

Gamao in Uchi's chair added. "In case you forgot, we still have to survive Shirokin and what will the other classes think if we're wandering aimlessly."

Noda's voice airy in disbelief stammered. "What makes any of you think we'll just allow that to happen?"

Shimazu in Minami's chair shifted to root himself. "Because none of you sappy fucks stepped up. Not that anyone of you could do what Sawada did."

Ooishi saw the four, their fists curling but hurt on their expressions still fathoming the mutiny they faced.

"Get it now? You were just lackeys, useful to Sawada. Now you're a body with its head cut off."

"You're discarding us now because you're under the misconception that we can't handle our shit?"

Kuma looked to others in their homeroom but they remained spectators. Their ranking wasn't decided by voting but by respect and power. "You guys are ok with this?" Kuma's question went unanswered while the others averted their eyes.

"You're forgetting Ooishi that we took care of it before Shin arrived."

"Yeah, under Abe. How can you lead when you need a leader more than anyone else?"

"And where were you when Ryuji over there was being picked on by some 3-B kids a few weeks ago?"

"We miss Sawada too, but Shirokin, Ara and everyone else isn't going to wait."

Even though the statement resonated with Uchi, more than he could bear, he yanked Ooishi out of Sawada's chair by the collar. Uchi wanted to shriek at him how dare he think he could think he could replace Shin, he wanted to rip his stupid hat off his head and hit the point into him and everyone until they all fucking understood.

Uchi would never know what he was about to do because Yankumi slammed the door shut. She eyed the division in her class and with warning laced in her tone she uttered, "let's begin today's lesson."

Sawada Shin darted to the staircase after the final bell rang. On the final step the thought struck him that he rushed to nowhere. He'd get Natsumi, resign to busying himself with homework then nap once he mentally exhausted himself with that.

Yoshida and Iha provided Shin a cushion against the impact of his return to Chuo. The story of his infamous exit still lingered by how students cleared a path for Sawada in the halls. Yoshida observed in the first weeks how Shin how matter the circumstances always floated to the top without effort. One of the things she loved most about him.

Shin, with his bag over his shoulder, crossed Chuo's bricked gate. With a yelp, familiar hands yanked him by the uniform out of his daze to the slab wall.

"Look at the garb they've got you in these days."
"I'd beat up someone like you."
"If I had to wear a tie I'd hit a teacher too."

A chunk of his hair was pulled. "Oh no they made him cut out the blond."

Shin smiled at Kuma, Uchi, Minami and Noda as the cheeky bastards grinned with peace signs.

"How is it?" Shin asked.

Uchi waited for someone else to speak before spitting out his frustration. "Ooishi and his goons are trying to climb up the pecking order and it's pissing us off."

"How's Yankumi?"

Kuma shrugged. "Alright I guess but she keeps banging her head, talking to herself in the halls when she thinks no one is around, saying 'how I am supposed to fix this?!'" Kuma even mimicked her panicked tone causing Shin to smirk. "She misses you, we all do."

"Oni-chan, sorry to keep you waiting." A light voice interrupted. Natsumi recognized the others with her brother and bowed. "Konnichiwa."

And there it was, the four of them resigned their desire to beg Shin to go back to Shirokin and buried it deep within their hearts. They all wondered sincerely if things were easy for her now that Shin was back. It was evident by the chipper oni-chan she called. Their mission: to drag Shin back to Shirokin, now selfish to them because they wanted everything to return to normal.

"I'll go ahead and give you a moment to catch up." Natsumi squeezed the nape of her neck and Shin recognized the gesture.

"Are you feeling stressed?" He urged.

Red with embarrassment, odd for the girl who was normally so composed, Natsumi shook her head. Really, she thought. It wasn't a panic attack. "Just feeling a little warm."

"Get a cold drink at the convenience store on the corner and wait for me."

Natsumi nodded and bowed to the others before leaving.

"Anything else up?" Shin asked, loosening his tie. The four peered at each other, the rush of words they carried on their lips all day suddenly too childish and inconsiderate of the sacrifice Shin made.

"Nothing, just came here to say we're still your friends and we can lean on us."

"Especially if any of these preppy fucks try to start shit."

Just as they were about to leave, awareness of his chronic loneliness of late, Shin spoke again.

"If you want after I drop Natsumi off I can join you-"

The four, with more excitement than they could mask, jumped their friend, tousling his hair, pounding his chest.

"Nationals eh?" Sawada sipped his cold coffee, walking with the others after Natsumi insisted she was fine after they got to the station.

"Yeah the volleyball team isn't totally useless after all."

"Yankumi is training us to be cheerleaders." Kuma scratched a hand over his neck, the words unbelievable even though he had witnessed the ploy.

Noda ran a picture under his nose before flashing it in front of Shin. "We're doing it ONLY on Yankumi's promise to set us up with the OK Cheer team!"

Shin scoffed, flicking Noda's picture away, "and you all believed her?"

"Don't be jealous Shin." Uchi sighed at the mental image of cheerleaders bouncing down the hill.

"I'll have to exinay on the meeting. Don't think Kozue would be too happy." Minami had just finished typing a text to her before Noda came up.

"Ko-zeh-chan." Noda and Kuma taunted Minami playfully chasing him, not noticing how Shin stopped at the entrance of the underground bridge.

"Uchi."

Shin nudged his chin. Took Uchi a moment. He saw the pedestrian just before stepping on the bridge but hadn't paid any attention. Yet on second glance, memories struck Uchi, conjuring a complicated mix of nostalgia and remorse.

"Kurosaki." Shin spoke with as much familiarity as strangeness.

As if he had heard his name murmured, Kurosaki Yuji peered up from his phone to his former friends. Visibly pausing in his train of thought, also affected by seeing two figures from his past.

Before either side could snap out of it, Kurosaki was met by a group both Uchi and Shin recognized as dropouts from Ara high.

Amazing, both Uchi and Shin thought, how a year later the wound of Kurosaki driving them both out of his life could gape open with the same intensity as the day of Kuro's expulsion. All this time, the pain and concern had festered within, lingering in their interactions, occasionally piquing their own thoughts where is Kurosaki? Is he alright?

Uchi, only acquainted with the most despicable of Ara high, hissed with a cold sweat. "Why Kuro, why?"

Ripping at the ribbons at the ball of her ankle, she wriggled the pointe shoe off. She massaged her bleeding pinky toe and slapped on her last bandage. Each time her foot pronounced into pointe, the lining of her padding resembling sandpaper blistered the tender skin.

She fell out of pointe on the final leg extension, her legs, core, even her arms on their last. Fujioka, like a hawk, scolded Davina for her slip but Davina had no energy to care. After rehearsing for six hours she was ready to die.

The demographic changed. She, Murosaki and Kinji made the final cut for the summer workshop. At first their former classmates turned away from the lucky three however for many of the girls, their envy tapered off as soon as it began. Davina and Murosaki were shyer but Kinji, with tears in her eyes one day, shared how bone tired she felt after each rehearsal, the hip aches from constant turn-out, how after hours of rehearsal she hungered like a horse but had to remain as steadfast as ever about her diet.

While the confession won some sympathy, Yamada mocked her friend, "awwww, if you want instead I can take your place and train under Joshujo-sensei."

Ariwa-san scolded, "Neh! Yamada, aren't you being too harsh?"

Even after Yamada apologized, the damage was done.

Davina and the other girls never complained again—complaining in part would require energy they didn't have. Most days Davina would leave, return home, seclude herself in her room and not utter a single word until breakfast with Terry the next day.

They trained with one Malaysian, three Russians, two Chinese girls (one from Mainland and the other from Hong Kong), a girl from Nagasaki, Kagoshima and Akita. Joshujo sensei hadn't done auditions. Rather she trained specifically on referral from trusted colleagues.

Again, Davina was far too exhausted to critically think about how unfair and nepotistic the selection had been and too exhausted to do much else. That week however, she'd be going to Nagoya.

The metro area sped by in blur until the Shinkansen zipped through a dark tunnel. In a flash, the metropolis was gone, rice paddies like perfect checker squares stretched as far as the eye could see. Two hours and Davina would arrive in central Nagoya, another-or was it two?-trains later she'd arrive in Mihama, her great grandfather's small beach town.

Davina stretched her dormant legs outside Mihama station, faced with a car park. The small tree and shrubs adorning the station entrance grew large red flowers, the size of apples. One dangled indecisively as the rainy ocean air soughed which somehow smelled saltier unlike briney Tokyo.

A thud and a meek voice behind her, the intact flower speckled with rain plopped on the bench beside as a man approached her.

"Enishi Tsubaki." Huddled with a slight slouch, Davina nearly hit her head against the shorter man when she bowed to greet.

He said something.

"Can you repeat?"

Same garbled noise to her ears and Davina blushed. A dialect she'd have no hope in understanding.

"I will try to speak like they do on tv." He laughed, before taking her hand and thumbing the palm of her hand as if she see if she was really there.

The man looked at her—really looked at her. Like a detective seeking traces of clues in his suspect, he searched in her features for his pronounced ears, olive eyes, eyebrow lines, or his strong chin. Whether or not he found even the tiniest sign, he revealed nothing in his smile.

Davina remembered once, under the influence of a large glass of wine, her great grandmother speaking of his "devilish good looks" while showing her a yellowing photo of him with flipped hair, thick eyebrows, dressed in a western suit.

"Even more handsome than heartthrob Hayakawa." Davina only nodded at the time, unfamiliar with the actor she gushed about.

Enishi smiling at her now was more supple in the face, more lines accompanying the sharp outward slant of his lid, with less hair, same eyebrows though, the same man but much older than the young newlywed in the photo.

"Well, the car is over here."

He drove Davina along the coast, and bought her the local eel, fresh from the sea, for lunch.

Enishi told the fishmonger with delight about his great granddaughter from Tokyo and the flash in her eyes told Davina she hadn't visualized her. "Ah, your first wife's side." And Davina wondered if the local fishmonger knew more than she had about her own family.

They arrived at a small quintessential Japanese home, reminding Davina of Yankumi's home yet smaller and less modern. Even inside the air flowed through the thin paper sliding doors, just enough to keep them cool and refreshed.

"I can get the photographs-oh wait, let me make you some mochi so we can enjoy that together."

Davina expected something out of a box however he ambled into his garden, mixed large white sticky fluff before smashing it with a large mallet.

When Davina tried she had struggled with the mallet, probably the same weight as her own body while the man five times her age could swing it like Thor.

With fresh mochi they sat on the porch while Enishi showed her dozens of old photos. He shared with her incredibly interesting stories from WWII Japan and the massive development of the entire country, how a Korean coworker went to North Korea never to be heard of again, how he, a fishmonger's boy, got into importing luxury goods, which is how he met her great grandmother.

"This is one of my favorites." He showed her one of him and her great uncle and his first child, her paternal grandfather. "The first baby and the most sensitive."

He showed her one of her great grandmother and him on their wedding day. "We were married a long time and had two children yet she wasn't allowed to be on my family registry. So without these pictures and my memories there wouldn't be any trace of that time of my life. Well except for the children." His laughter stretched into the garden, awakening the cicadas' coo.

"How lucky am I to be able to speak to you in Japanese? Once she and the boys moved to America, they forgot all of their Japanese, thought it couldn't be helped. I tried learning English but only got so far with that. Tragic that I had two sons and a growing family a continent away I couldn't ever converse with."

Davina thought of her great grandmother and how she only spoke at detail of her first husband once, again, with the help of wine. She peppered her talk with Japanese naturally with the nostalgia as if the language brought her back to her twenties, though young Davina at the time hadn't realized it was Japanese she spoke.

Davina chewed the deliciously sweet mochi like bubblegum, trying to place how the mochi could taste so different from store bought. She shared details of her life-ballet, the military, moving around to so many places he was in awe.

"You're strong. I could tell that when I heard you were coming here alone. Your father said he was very busy and would visit another time."

Davina was glad he only said that much or hoped he was excluded from the nationwide debate about the US military after a Japanese teenager was attacked by personnel…

She thought of the friends she couldn't protect, the adults who puppeteered her life without her say and she shook her head. No, I'm not strong.

Enishi lifted her chin tenderly. "You're stronger than me Aka-chan."

If he hadn't glanced away for another bite of mochi he would have seen the jolt ripple through her.

Enishi uttered between hearty chews. "If I were stronger I would have gone to America to be with my family. But at least my family has blossomed and I've got beautiful, capable grandbabies and great grandbaby."

Iwamoto bowed with such force the breath was knocked out of him. Not satisfied to see the waste of space teacher beg him, Kurosaki pounded the man in the gut until he spat blood on the concrete, in the way he had dreamed of the many nights after his expulsion.

When Kurosaki nearly kicked him in the ribs, powerful arms yanked him off. Uchiyama and Sawada dragged him away and Kuro could have laughed at the scene. To think Kuro almost asked for their help, to think they had grown into teacher pets.

He recognized Shin's uniform belonging to one of the most elite schools. Kuro yanked at Sawada's blazer, shouting in Sawada's unflinching face. "What the fuck is this Shin? When did you become a lapdog for teachers?! When I left you both grew soft."

They gripped Kuro's arm like vices. This would end with the police, they knew Kurosaki knew that. How could he not care for himself to not end up doing social suicide? They would not see their friend being dragged away to jail by the police.

"This will ruin you Kurosaki."

"Aren't you both a little late to be saying that?"

A lone voice, belonging to a woman clad in a jersey suit, expanded like a siren in the warehouse. "Get your hands off those guys!"

After spending the day in the arboretum, eating more delicious fresh fish, they winded down once more in the garden. The night sky, in their good fortune, had remained impeccably clear despite forecasts predicting isolated showers.

"Do you have Japanese friends?" After the details she shared about her life and family's life, he couldn't help but notice she skimmed Japan. She said pleasant things, like the quintessential things, like cherry blossoms, food, loving Tokyo but that was far too touristy for his taste. It was as if she held Japan and her personal interaction with it at a safe distance and whenever he'd ask questions she'd dart it away.

"Yes-" Davina answered before she could bite her tongue. If she thought of Ami it was still true but…

"Are they good friends?"

She gulped, thankful for the darkness of the velvety, starry night to mask her anguish at the innocent question. "They're wonderful, a little dim witted but loyal. They became my friends even with the language barrier." I miss them, she thought.

"Tell me more about them." He asked, prying harder than usual. "Any of them you would consider best friends?"

Does it count if he hates me now? Davina decided to answer but evade the painful details because she hesitated too long before saying no. It should have been so easy to lie, make up a person and characteristics on the spot-yet Davina couldn't for the life of her when she pictured someone so clearly.

Even to half lie and vaguely explain him to her relative Davina felt she did everything an injustice. She sought to describe him even though she felt compelled to push the memories down as much as she could muster. "He's so brilliant. He knows how to read me, which meant I could never really hide anything from him. Even with the two languages we speak, some things don't need saying to be understood. I trusted him completely it was like air between us."

I miss Shin.

One slip. She hadn't allowed herself even in the privacy of her own head to say his name. Even within Tokyo city limits, Davina had as much chance running into him there as she did in Nagoya. Yet it didn't stop her from wishing he would appear in the seat next to her on the train, or on the bench next to the shrub of red flowers. Closer physical proximity didn't fix the distance between them, distance she forged.

A man who lived five times her lifespan thus far, he recognized her faraway gaze in the arboretum's chrysanths, in the vast sea as they drove by, the corner of the his street, and in the starry sky above. He understood immediately as soon as she said him and was with bated breath. Young people even raised half a world away were uncanny in humanity. That had been him in his fragile youth. Decades prior, he gazed longingly at the sky, the same endless sky his beloved and his children would gaze upon half a world away. He'd also search for traces of them in his flowers, the sea, in the figures strolling in his neighborhood, even though they'd never been there.

He gestured her towards the potted flower shrub, the same ones like at the station. The large flowers red in the moon's glow. Up close, she finally remembered where she first saw the flower: in the tall trees of her great grandmother's garden.

"Let me tell you about our family name. 椿 Tsubaki-your, our family name. They represent deep emotion, longing, the red tsubaki especially, love. Resilient, they bloom even in the harshest winter, the first sign of spring in the heavy snow. Unlike those fragile sakura breaking petal by petal, they remain whole when they drop, maintaining rich beauty even in its last moments. One of the most Japanese names ever."

He set the pot aside, grabbing for paper and pen. He laughed writing the character cursively in the span on a breath. "I'll tell ya, it's a good thing you don't come from a family of samurai-haha." He said, slipping into his dialect.

"Can you show me how to write it?"

He handed her a fude pen and positioned her three fingers and hand in proper position. He moved her hand with his to show each stroke, each press of the brush.

She recognized tree and spring in her name. "Tsu-ba-ki."

"Before you leave Dabina, there is something I want you to have."

He lead Davina to an unoccupied bedroom. He opened a chest and she expected to see a futon but instead was a plastic, airtight crate. He unveiled a buttery yellow silk, designed with traditional motifs and florals.

Her heart nearly stopped in awe. He lightly aired the kimono, the hair ornament, the furisode, the threads glimmering iridescence in the light. "Wait-you want me to-I couldn't-" She actually backed away from the garment as if being in its spectacular presence would harm it.

"I might as well throw it away in the trash if you don't." He joked. "She couldn't take it with her to America and it hasn't been worn since."

Davina still struggled to cope with the idea of owning such a stunning garment.

"If you take it, just promise me you will wear it. It's been cooped up here and it's tragic for such a beautiful kimono. I've heard of people framing theirs and it's just ridiculous. Kimono will never be as beautiful framed in glass than it is worn with life breathing through it."

The following morning he gave her hug with a promise, driving her all the way to Nagoya Shinkansen station. "Expect me in Tokyo for your graduation Aka-chan." An attendant carefully stored the packed kimono, immediately understanding it could not go along with general luggage.

Enishi locked her into a bone crushing hug again, holding onto the descendant of a son he missed with all his heart. Too stricken for words, it was embarrassing for him as a Japanese man to show emotion and affection in public. If he could muster the words without stumbling, he'd say he worried about meeting Davina.

That the distance between them he worried he wouldn't feel the relation between them like they were strangers. He almost expected a pure manifestation of his first wife without a trace of him and on the first sight of red hair his breath hitched in his throat. On first sight he recognized none of him in her features, yet elderly man still had to own up to his stubborn misgivings of almost giving up too fast. The Tsubaki within her was visible to him now, in the redness of her hair, her resilience to bloom even being uprooted so many times, how she had been the one to bury the unease (how he had crammed English before their meeting).

Waving bye to her as the train took off from the platform, Enishi could have sworn, if you thought about it, her emotional aura was his. The last image Davina saw of him before the scene blurred was Enishi laughing on the platform.

Yankumi threw her victorious fist up in the air. Yoosh!

"Isn't that kind of lame?"

"It isn't!" She elbowed her student. "Neh, good to be back in Shirokin uniform right?"

He shrugged, poking at the gold embellishments, hiding his true excitement.

"I'm sure your old friends will welcome you back with open arms." She opened 3-D door, gesturing him through.

The commotion died as all eyes fixed on the blond dressed in Shirokin garb.

Uchi peered from his friend to Yankumi in gleeful disbelief. "Kurosaki-is this for real?"

"He was given a benchmark test and he's fit to return to school. If all goes well he will graduate with you guys. Isn't that wonderful?" Yankumi approached her podium while Kurosaki took a seat in the middle with Uchi, Kuma, Noda and Minami. Ooishi, Shimazu and Takeda glanced among each other in uncertainty.

They remembered Kurosaki. Clever like Shin but far more volatile and unpredictable, and physically a threat. He had earned a reputation for his punching arm, developed from spiking volleyballs like bullets. Yet with all of that in mind, with the others taken down a notch, how would he play in their classroom dynamic?

"Sah," Yankumi gazed at her class, grateful she could save even one more student. "Let's begin the lesson."

Yep yep. That's why Kurosaki's episode in this story was skimmed because Kuro is going to get more screen time (so to speak) as a full time character. I understand why they did it that way...but I still wish Kuro was given more than one episode. Thanks again for reading and thank you to guest reviewers I couldn't thank via pm.