"It wasn't too hard to get Jin to leave the theatre early, or to go to the wrong bar afterwards. We stayed there for about an hour and then, Youji. Youji. Youji!"
"Huh?" Youji's eyes focused, and he gave Chiyako his most attentive look. She didn't buy it for a second.
"Look." She didn't try to hide her irritation, "You invited me over to talk about the date, but you've been zoning out since I got here. What gives?"
"I . . .I didn't get much sleep last night." He said dismissively.
"You're a college student. You never get enough sleep. Tell me what's really bothering you."
Youji cringed slightly and said in a more earnest voice, "It's just that, I don't think the Toshio-san set up is working."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. Rumi and I are planning on cooking a dinner together, and she said to make sure to invite Toshio-san along with Jin."
"That only proves she's being polite," said Youji, "They are roommates after all."
"It's one of the those deeper meaning things," said Chiyako. Why was she the only one who believed that Rumi and Toshio would make a good couple? "A girl doesn't cook for just any guy, you know."
"She's still dating Hirokazu, isn't she?" Youji's voice was a lower serious monotone. And his eyes made Chiyako want to shudder.
"Well, maybe, yes, I suppose she is." She dropped her gaze to her hands.
"Then she can't feel deeply for Toshio-san, can she?"
"I . . ." Chiyako hated loosing an argument.
"Do you really want to break up Yamashita and Hirokazu? Are you really serious about this?"
Chiyako felt her cheeks go red. "Of course I'm serious," she snapped and gave him her best defiant glare.
"Then you need to find a better candidate than Toshio-san."
"But, but . . ." Numerous denials sprang to Chiyako's mind and died on her lips. Fact was, Toshio wasn't right for Rumi. "But who then?"
"The problem is," said Youji, a crafty smile now on his face, "you're starting from the wrong end of the problem, Chiyako. Instead of evaluating men, you should figure what qualities Rumi's wants in a mate."
"Oh, that's no problem."
"Really?"
"She wants someone who's kind, down to earth, modest, funny, outgoing, honest, and cares about her. Someone she can talk to, who's adventurous, and doesn't mind carrying shopping bags when she goes on a spree. Oh, and he should be a good listener, and be able to keep track of time."
"That's a rather complete list." Youji seemed impressed. "Did she tell you all that?"
"Of course not."
"But how . . ."
"Oh, really, Youji. A relationship mastermind like yourself should be able to figure this out." He continued to give her a confused-guy look. "I was describing Jin."
"But Rumi's not in love with Jin anymore. You can't believe-"
"No. I know Rumi's not in love with Jin anymore. I've heard it from Rumi, I've heard it from Jin, and I've certainly heard it from you. You can't know how glad I am to be so well informed." Chiyako paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "Don't worry, Youji, I'm not harboring some deep-seated fear that Rumi's trying to steal Jin back. But Rumi wouldn't have been in love with Jin for so long if she wasn't attracted to that type of person. And if there was some other guy like that around, believe me, I'd be trying to set her up with him. But, and this is coming from someone who's dated a lot, there aren't that many guys like Jin around."
Chiyako tried to establish eye contact with Youji. He had to see that she wasn't being paranoid or insecure. She really wouldn't expect another guy to understand how unique and special Jin was. Even she hadn't realized it when they first met, or when they first started dating, or even last month. She just kept finding more aspects of him to love.
Just before her thoughts completely faded into abstract waves of happiness, she snapped back to reality. Youji seemed to be paying an incredible amount of attention to his hands.
"Deep down," she continued, "I always knew that Toshio wasn't Rumi's Mr. Right. But the way I figured, he only needed to be Mr. Better, and not by much, if the competition was Hirokazu Nabishi. Besides, he does have this helplessness quality. I was kind of hoping Rumi would feel sorry for him."
"Have you ever dated a guy you felt sorry for?"
"Briefly." Chiyako admitted, "but never for too long."
"Did you feel sorry for me?"
Mental whiplash. Chiyako opened her eyes wide and gave Youji a once over. He looked guarded, but more curious than anything else.
"No, Youji, how could you think you were a mercy date? I mean, I know I was going on about Jin like he was the center of the universe; I'm rather biased, on account of my being deeply and madly in love. But I thought you rated a nine out of ten on the cuteness scale the first time I met you. And you don't lack in the personality department either."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
They exchanged pleasant smiles. The moment stretched into an uncomfortable silence, broken finally when Youji cleared his throat.
"Um, Chiyako," he said, "have you ever thought, I mean, considered . . .Well, we could try setting up Rumi with me."
"With you? I wouldn't want to impose, Youji-"
"You wouldn't be imposing," he said quickly. "I mean, I'm already helping you to set things up, right?"
"Well, yes," Chiyako agreed reluctantly.
"And we're in several classes together, and it would make sense for the four of us to hang out together."
"True, but . . ."
"But what?"
"Youji, don't take this the wrong way, but, you're not the best liar. What I mean to say is, a girl can tell if you're serious about her or not. I . . ." she was digging herself in deeper here. Be tactful, Chiyako, she reminded herself. "Like when you broke up with me. Not that I'm not completely grateful for it, but at the time, even before you said the words, I knew something was up. I could tell even before you started speaking. And, Rumi would be able to tell too. She'd see that you weren't really interested. Do you see what I'm getting at?"
Youji seemed to consider her words. Several times he started to say something, each time catching himself. Chiyako waited. He'd soon realize she was right, even if it hurt his ego a bit. Guys liked to believe they were as confusing to women as women were to them, and it always hurt their pride to admit how transparent their motives could be.
"Chiyako," Youji began, "Do you see-"
And then he was interrupted by the telephone. Chiyako gave him a understanding smile and he got up to answer it.
"Hello?" He paused, and then rolled his eyes, "Emiko, listen this isn't- You're where? Tokyo? But how? Isn't today a school day?" His face quickly cycled through expressions of surprise, disbelief and anger, and as he continued to listen, settled on concern. "No, it's okay. I'll come and get you. What station are you at? Ueno? But how did you end up - never mind. Don't worry, just stay put. I'll be there in half an hour, maybe sooner, okay? No, don't worry, it's okay, really. I'll be there soon, okay? Stay put. Bye."
He hung up the phone, looking only slightly unnerved now.
"Siblings," Youji said simply.
"Your little sister's in town?" hazard Chiyako.
"She packed her book bag full of underwear, skipped school, and used her weekly allowance money to get a ticket to Tokyo. Your younger brother ever pull a stunt like that?"
"He's actually my cousin," corrected Chiyako. "But not really. I was the one that pulled all the stunts."
"I could believe that." He laughed. "Emiko misread the Kanji on the map, so I need to go halfway across town and pick her up. I have to apologize . . ."
"Don't worry about it," said Chiyako, already rising. "We'll finish this conversation later. In the meantime, I'm going to give some serious thought about the things you said about Rumi.
"Likewise."
As she headed out, she turned to add, "And Youji - the things I said, about you. Honesty's a good quality in a guy. When you seriously fall for a girl, she'll be able to tell. And," she gave him a big smile of encouragement, "she'll find that irresistible."
Not wanting to intrude anymore, she dashed out, only briefly wondering what Youji had been going to ask her. If it was important, he'd surely remember.
* * *
As soon as she got home, Rumi vowed, for what must have been the tenth time that day, that she was going to throw these high heels into the farthest back reaches of her closet. What ever had possessed her to wear them in the first place?
She sat down in one of the train station's benches and tried to wriggle her toes. Should she just take them off here? She made a quick scan of the area. There was no one she recognized, although the girl sitting across from her looked oddly familiar. With no undue amount of glee, she whipped off her shoes and sighed contently. What would Mr. and Mrs. Hirokazu think if they could see her now?
Not that she disliked Nabishi's parents. She didn't know them well enough to even have an opinion about them. Even after meeting with them for over three hours today. Everything had been so formal; Nabishi's mother had even worn a genuine kimono, and not a precut one like her mother sometimes wore to town.
She realized the girl she noticed earlier was watching her. Probably staring at my stocking feet. No, she was staring at the large bouquet Rumi still held clutched in her hand. One dozen long stemmed red roses, plus a thirteenth white one - the "Hirokazu special," as Rumi and Chiyako called it.
"Would you like them?" Rumi held the roses out to the girl.
"What? Huh?" She jumped.
"The flowers, would you like them?"
"I couldn't," the girl said, but she came over to sit by Rumi and inhaled deeply. "They're so beautiful. Why don't you want them?"
"I have two other bunches sitting at home."
The girl's eyes went wide, "You have that many boyfriends?"
"What? No, they're all from the same guy. He always gets me the same bouquet. I'm beginning to think he has a permanent account set up with some florist."
"Wow," the girl didn't seem to pick up on Rumi's irony, "He must really love you."
"I suppose."
"Are you engaged?"
"Not yet."
"Is he going to ask you?"
Rumi nodded.
"Lucky!" the girl squealed and then added in a confused voice. "You don't seem that excited. I'd give anything to have a boy propose to me."
Rumi half laughed, half sighed. "When I was your age, I thought much the same. Then I found out things don't work out like in the romance novels."
"You sound like my brother. He's always saying, Emiko, real life isn't like Ribbon comics. Especially after he gets dumped. Youji gets dumped a lot."
Youji? Wait, wasn't Emiko the name of his little sister? But what would she be doing in Tokyo, especially in this district? Trying not to be overt, Rumi gave the girl a more careful look. There was something familiar about the shape of her jaw line, and her eyes were very much like Youji's, lively and bright.
"Did your brother ever get a girlfriend?" asked Rumi, trying to sound casual.
"He's currently pining after someone, but she already has a boyfriend."
"Maybe that's his problem." It had to be Youji.
"That's only one of his problems," asserted Emiko.
"Really?" Rumi was experiencing some serious guilt pangs, but she decided to ignore them. She'd need some ammunition if she was going to stop Youji from stealing Chiyako away, and Emiko seemed only too pleased to provide it.
"You wouldn't believe. First off, he's just too nice. He lets girls walk all over him. And he's too nice to their ex-boyfriends too. He once purposely stood a girl up so that her ex could "accidentally" run into her and get a chance to apologize. It's not like the girl didn't like Youji. She did. He can be so frustrating."
"I can imagine."
"Personally I think it's a great idea to get this new girl away from her boyfriend. He sounds like a class-A jerk. But even if my brother succeeds in getting her to see that loser for what he is, I don't think Youji will admit his feelings to her. He'll probably say something like 'she needs space,' or that he 'wouldn't want to catch her on a rebound.'"
Rumi's head was spinning. How dare Youji say such things about Jin to his little sister. But the situation sounded off. What was the chance of there being two Youjis, with little sisters named Emiko, with love lives in such disarray? Tokyo was a big place.
"Maybe your brother's just clueless about love."
"He's been called a relationship mastermind." Scratch the coincidence theory. That had to be Youji. "No, he's afraid."
"Afraid? Of what?" Rumi held her breath - this could be good.
"Your boyfriend," said Emiko, changing the subject, "when he proposes, what are you going to say?"
"I'm going to say yes," said Rumi with more confidence than she felt. It was the right thing to do, at least that was the conclusion she always came to when she argued it in her mind.
"Because you love him, right?"
"Well, not exactly," said Rumi. Wasn't she trying to get information about Youji? "But, we've reached an understanding about what we want out of life and our marriage. That's better than a lot of couples. And love's not something that happens all at once, not for everyone. Over time, we'll become closer, probably." At least that's what Nabishi always said. There were the other reasons for the marriage, but Rumi wasn't going to confess them to a middle-schooler.
"Youji would say, those aren't good enough reasons. He would say you need to be completely sure that the other person is right for you, otherwise it's not a good relationship, and you'll live to regret it. Our parents didn't have a good relationship." Emiko took a deep breath. Her earlier enthusiasm had faded. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but it's not like you know me or anything. And I kind of want to tell someone. I was going to wait to tell Youji, but you seem really kind, and I just can't keep it inside anymore. You don't mind, do you?"
Rumi gave a hesitant nod, which was all the encouragement that Emiko needed.
"I don't know much about it. I guess there was this girl who my father really liked, but they got into a big fight, and he ended up marrying my mother, instead. My grandmother was against the marriage, and she didn't like it when my mother moved to the house. I guess they fought a lot too. At first, my father took Mother's side, but then later, he'd take Grandmother's side. I don't remember it much, because I was really young. But I remember a lot of yelling, and my mother crying, and then she . . .died."
Emiko was clutching her skirt, bunching up and wrinkling its fabric. Feeling very uncomfortable, Rumi reached out to take the girls hand.
"I'm very sorry. It's must have been hard to grow up without a mother."
"It wasn't too bad. I had Youji. And he was great. Whenever I got in trouble, and Grandmother would send me up to bed without supper, Youji would sneak up his dessert. And he always looked out for me at school. And he'd take me shopping for clothes and fun stuff. All my girlfriends were so jealous that I had such a cool brother.
"But, since he went away to college, it's been just Grandmother and me. Grandmother isn't so good with girls, because she only had sons, and . . ."
Rumi dropped the flowers freeing her other hand for Emiko to hold and said softly, "You missed you brother, didn't you. Are you waiting for him to pick you up? "
Deep into her monologue, Emiko nodded.
". . .and Grandmother's always been kind of crotchety at times, and she's forgetful too. She never remembers when I have Saturday school." Emiko's voice had been getting progressively softer, it was now just a whisper. "But, then she started getting the days mixed up, like she thought I had skipped class, but it was a Sunday. And I tried to explain to her, but she just got mad. Later, she didn't remember what had happened, or maybe she pretended that she didn't, and told me I shouldn't bother my brother about it, that it would disturb his studying. So I didn't.
"It was kind of neat, because I could cover for her. Like if we had guests over, and she forgot their names, I'd say stuff like, 'Would you like some more tea, Mrs. Mariko Takashi?' so Grandmother wouldn't look confused. And she liked that. She'd say that maybe it was good to have another female around.
"But then one day, just before Youji came home for summer break, she got really confused. And she didn't recognize me. She kept calling me Keiko, which was my mother's name, and telling me I was a bad wife and mother. And she said it was my fault that Father was gone so much. And then she started complaining about the Americans and the Russians, she seemed to think it was still during the war."
Rumi knew she shouldn't be listening to this. It was wrong, an unforgivable invasion of Youji's privacy. She'd only meant to get information about Youji, not about his family's problems.
But this explained so much. No wonder Youji had broken his promise to be at her apartment the night Nabishi was to come over. No wonder he had to leave almost immediately for Nara the day afterwards. And his long absence over summer break made perfect sense now.
"I called Youji, and he called Grandmother's doctor. And then she really got angry. She thought he was the doctor who had let Grandfather die. They had to hold her down to give her a sedative.
"The doctor thinks she's sick. He thinks she has a disease that's eating away her mind, and she'll never get better, just worse and worse. But Youji says she'll be okay for a while, just a bit confused at times. Kind of like before. He hired a nurse to help us out.
"Only Grandmother doesn't want anyone to know she's sick. So she tells people that the nurse is her sister's niece. And she sends her out when we have company, like we did last night."
Rumi put her arms around Emiko and pulled her close. The girl was trembling.
"Whatever happened, Youji will straighten it out. He's coming to get you, right? You brother will make it all okay." Youji was good at fixing things. Rumi hoped he was up to fixing this.
"Some of Grandmother's friends were over for dinner. And she was complaining about my mother and how my father is never around, and how she shouldn't have to be raising children at her age. I should have seen there would be trouble, but she used to complain about this when she was healthy. She was going into a lot of detail, saying stuff I'd never heard before. About mother getting pregnant before they got married, and about father having a mistress. None of the guests stopped her or even said anything. They were all so shocked, or maybe they knew already. They never told me any of this."
Emiko let out what sounded like a sob, and Rumi held her tighter. It must have been so humiliating, so shameful to hear such things about one's family. Little wonder Emiko had run off to Tokyo, to talk to the one person who could understand her pain. But she'd probably gotten the stations confused, and she needed to confide in someone, anyone, so she chose a perfect stranger. Or rather, someone she thought was a stranger.
"They never told me anything. Never. Like that Mother used to take pills, lots of them. And before she died, mother took a whole bottle, and that's why Grandmother refuses to have a photo of Mother in the shrine cabinet. And that's why father can never get married again, and . . .and . . ."
"Shh, shhh" whispered Rumi. "Everything's will be okay. You'll see. Your big brother knows what to do. Shhh." Did Youji know all this? Would he be able to help?
He has to! This was Youji, the mastermind of the break-up-Jin-and-Chiyako plan. He'd think of something. But, poor Emiko, how horrible it would be for her when she realized Rumi's identity. She should leave here now, so that neither of the Matsuuras would know.
But she couldn't leave Emiko now. The girl was sobbing loudly and holding onto Rumi as though she had no intention of letting go, ever. For what might have been an hour, or merely minutes, Rumi whispered platitudes and rocked Emiko gently.
By the time Youji came running down the platform, Emiko had loosened her grip and was down to the occasional dry heave, and Rumi had come up with a plan. Now if only Youji would have the sense to play along with it.
"Emiko." He said, running forward. Then he recognized Rumi and a shocked look replaced the relief on his face.
"Big brother." Emiko rushed into his arms, giving Rumi a chance to put her shoes back on. Her feet screamed in protest.
"You must be Emiko's brother, Youji-san," said Rumi. Pretend you don't know me, Rumi pleaded via telepathy. "We just met. She's told me a lot about you. I think you should take her back to you apartment, she's had a long day and there are things you need to discuss."
It might have been the telepathy, or maybe just uncertainty, but Youji nodded and said:
"Thank you very much . . . miss." Youji spoke the words jerkily, Rumi hoped Emiko wouldn't notice. "I apologize for imposing on you like this."
"Don't worry about it. It was nice to meet you both."
Rumi turned to go, when Emiko spoke up.
"Wait! I wanted to thank you. I didn't even ask your name."
"Yoshumori," lied Rumi smoothly, she was glad she'd prepared for this eventuality, she even got to use one of her favorite names. "Yoshumori Miki."
"Thank you, Yoshumori-san. Oh, you forgot your roses." She pointed at bouquet where it had fallen on the tiled floor.
"Oh, these?" Rumi held them out to Emiko. "Why don't you take them? Flowers always make me feel better."
"Thanks, Yoshumori-san."
Rumi nodded, waved, and made her getaway. Youji's little sister was unaware of it, but he had been staring at Rumi the entire time. His expression had been the same one he wore after their tennis match, but now Rumi wasn't so sure she knew what it meant.
* * *
It was Chiyako's birthday next week, and Jin was determined to get her the best gift he could. Rumi's opinion was that you couldn't go wrong with jewelry, and she'd given him the name of Chiyako's favorite store. Now if he could only find something here that he could afford.
Most of the cases were devoted to engagement and wedding rings. It was too soon in the relationship to give Chiyako one of these, but still . . . Briefly, Jin let himself imagine presenting Chiyako with a beautiful diamond ring like the one displayed in the case before him. Then he took a look at its price. He had better start saving now.
The sales attendant came over and unlocked the case, removing the very ring he was looking at.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not buying, I was just looking," explained Jin.
"No sir, this is for the gentleman over there." She pointed, and Jin's heart sank. It was Hirokazu Nabishi, flashing one of those fake smiles of his.
Breathe Jin, breathe, he told himself. Last time he talked to Hirokazu about Rumi he'd been unprepared to hear the tennis captain's intentions and Hirokazu had talked circles around him. Not this time. Jin had been planning on seeking out the guy for a while. This time he was prepared.
Purposely, he strode across the store.
"Upperclassman Hirokazu, I was wondering if I could have a word with you, in private." There, that was formal and polite enough.
"Certainly, underclassman Koishikawa, but as you can see, I'm in the middle of a transaction here." He smiled with clenched teeth.
"It can wait. Come with me." Jin wondered if he'd have to physically drag Hirokazu from the store; that wouldn't look good. Fortunately, Hirokazu seemed willing to follow him.
Once outside, Jin said:
"That ring. It's for Rumi, right?"
"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock-san." No two ways about it, Jin hated this guy.
"There's nothing I can do stop you from proposing to Rumi." Jin said in his best movie-samurai voice; there were certain advantages in having an otaku for a roommate, "I said before that Rumi only deserves the best. And as far as I'm concerned, you're not the best, upperclassman Hirokazu. But there's nothing I can do to stop her from accepting if she wants to marry you."
"Is that your way of saying congratulations?"
"Not exactly. I want you to know, I will always be close to Rumi." He took a step closer to Hirokazu. "And I'll always know how you're treating her." Another step. "And if you ever hurt her, or ever treat her badly," they were now standing eye to eye, with Jin having at least three centimeters on the tennis captain, "then let's just say, I know where the Yamashitas keep the family sword, and Mrs. Yamashita has told me she'll teach me how to use it. Got it?"
Jin gave his best menacing smile, and he was almost sure Hirokazu might have gone a shade paler.
"I don't-" He dropped his voice and started again, "I don't think Rumi will have any cause for complaint, underclassman Koishikawa." He tried to make his step back look unintentional.
"She'd better not. Oh, and Hirokazu-san," Jin added as the other man was turning to leave.
"What?" Hirokazu snapped.
"If Rumi were to, say, turn you down, I trust you'd be enough of a gentleman to abide by her decision and stop your pursuit of her. Correct?"
"I am never less than a gentleman." Hirokazu had regained most of his composure. "But Rumi-chan is going to say yes. As her closest childhood friend, I'm sure you'll be the first to receive the good news."
Jin simply waved his hand in the air as he walked away. He had planned to let Hirokazu get in the last word rather than be dragged into a series of snide remarks.
Besides, depressing as it was, the guy was probably right. He'd propose, Rumi would say yes, and Jin would have to rent himself a tux for the wedding.
His plan to pair up Rumi with Matsuura had faired no better than Chiyako's attempt to pair her up with Toshio. Worse, really. Chiyako had gotten Rumi and Toshio alone together several times, while all he'd managed was a single doubles tennis match two weeks ago, and afterwards Rumi had announced she was going to let her arm rest until next season.
So Jin turned to good old intimidation, and he hadn't done too badly. Now all he had to do was sweet talk Mrs. Yamashita into telling him where she'd stashed that old samurai sword. He hoped she hadn't made good on her threat to throw it into river.
* * *
Hirokazu Nabishi arrived five minutes early with flowers in hand, twelve red, one white. Rumi put them in an empty biscotti tin; she'd long since run out of vases. Nabishi told Rumi and Chiyako that he was taking Rumi out to a five star Kaiseki cuisine restaurant, the finest in Tokyo, and that even he had to make reservations almost a month in advance. Chiyako said it sounded quaint and Nabishi acted oblivious to the sarcasm.
They arrived at the restaurant ten minutes late; the one thing Nabishi hadn't planned on was parking difficulties. The host at the entrance assured them that it was no problem, but Rumi noticed he seated them in room mostly overlooking the street, although she could see a corner of the outside garden.
Dinner was a three and a half hour affair, and worth every minute of it. The waiters brought out servings in the most exquisite porcelain dishes that reminiscent of the ones Rumi's mother kept locked in her display cabinet. The portions were never more than three bites, but there were so many of them; Rumi lost track around fifteen.
She had pufferfish for the first time and was a bit disappointed that her fingers didn't tingle more. They had several mushroom delicacies because, as Nabishi explained, they were in season. There was also an amazing asparagus dish, which Rumi knew wasn't anywhere close to being in season. The sake was unlike any Rumi had ever tasted, and Nabishi partook of it sparingly.
During the meal they made small talk. Nabishi told her three times how pleased his parents were to meet her. Rumi replied that they seemed nice. Nabishi asked Rumi how her classes were coming along. Rumi tried to tell Nabishi an amusing anecdote about how she and her lab partners had confused the pH and pI of the compound they needed to isolate, but Nabishi gave her a such a look of complete incomprehension, that Rumi let it drop. A waiter came in to tell Nabishi that he was illegally parked, and Nabishi had to rush out before they towed his car.
Rumi noticed that the waiter temporarily suspended serving the dishes until Hirokazu returned. It wouldn't be such a bad life, she thought. The food was good. And, she wasn't having a bad time out here with Nabishi. He had proven himself. He'd kept all the promises he made to her, and they turned out to be the right promises to make. She no longer dreaded seeing him, no longer feared to be alone together with him.
And Nabishi was okay with a long engagement. He was going to be working quite heavily for his father's company in the few years.
Nabishi returned and reported the car had been safely re-parked. She teased him slightly and he got huffy, but calmed down when she apologized. The waiter duly brought in the next course and Nabishi began a monologue about the Korean expansion branch of the company that he would start managing just as soon as he graduated.
The final course was rice, cooked so that the grains just barely stuck together, with a side of pickled vegetables. Nabishi, deep into an explanation of cross-marketing to expatriate Chinese nationals didn't notice the grain that had fallen out from his chopsticks and onto his otherwise immaculate lapel. Not wanting to interrupt him, Rumi reached out and retrieved it, for which gesture Nabishi seemed uncomfortably grateful, or maybe gratefully uncomfortable. He let the incident drop with only a disapproving look.
After finishing the dinner, Nabishi proposed a drive. They went north, to a hilly part of Tokyo, and Nabishi parked the car in a small lot, first checking to make sure it wasn't a tow away zone. He led her up a paved path winding through a bamboo grove, terminating in a scenic overlook of the Tokyo skyline - an uncountable number of shimmering lights that made Rumi gasp with delight.
Nabishi placed himself between her and the view and began a slightly stilted speech about the importance of tradition and responsibilities. Rumi's mother would have approved, Nabishi even spoke about the proper roles of women. Actually, she'd heard most of these ideas from him before and even if they didn't form the most appealing image, they weren't overly objectionable.
Nabishi stressed twice that he'd be completely understanding of her desire to work fulltime outside the home, at least until the children were born. Rumi smiled, some part of her very much wanting to be a mother. She mused about this while Nabishi moved onto the next part of his speech, which had to do with amount of liquid assets and company shares he'd acquire over the next twenty years if the Japanese economy continued to skyrocket at its current momentum.
Finally, he got down on one knee and brought out a small box from his pocket. She guessed he'd been practicing from the skillful way he opened it, presenting the contents at just the right angle so that a nearby lamp used the diamond's refractive index to the best effect. Giving her a moment to appreciate the ring, Nabishi finally popped the question.
Rumi looked at the ring, looked at Nabishi, looked at Tokyo shimmering in the background. It surprised her how sure she felt when she gave her answer.
* * *
It was actually a pretty nice bus bench, Youji reflected as he waited for Rumi to return home. It was made of nicely varnished wood with the back tilted at just the right angle for relaxed slouching. And when one was about to get his heart broken, it was so much nicer to sit than to stand.
As if on cue to this thought, Hirokazu's car pulled up to the curb and the tennis captain leaped out to open the door for Rumi. She emerged gracefully, and was escorted to the main doors. If he'd really wanted to, Youji could have stood up to look over the gate and catch the goodnight kiss, but even he wasn't that much of a masochist. Youji waited patiently, and after what felt like a longish while Hirokazu re-emerged and drove off. A few minutes later, Youji heard the apartment door open and Rumi poked her head around the gate. She spotted him, waved, and made her way over.
"Got your note," she said, referring to the message he's left in her house slippers. "I just stopped by to let Chiyako know I was home."
She was lit from behind by the streetlight, and reminded Youji of one of those religious Christian statues. Still dressed as she had been for her date with Hirokazu, Rumi's hair was done up in a style that was part traditional geisha and part American Hollywood. She almost certainly had make-up on, but it was applied so skillfully that Youji couldn't be sure. He guessed she was wearing some elegant dress, but it was completely covered by her long formal fall coat. She'd accessorized with practical, low-heeled shoes.
Youji smiled sadly. No one could accuse him of not having good taste in women.
"So," said Rumi, "Should I sit?" She indicated to the bench with her right hand - no ring! Youji's heart thrilled for a second, and then he remembered it was supposed to go on the left hand, which Rumi kept tucked in her pocket.
"Sure."
Rumi complied and said, somewhat nervously:
"Can I ask how your sister is? I don't need to know any of the details, just in general. I've been worried about her."
"She's doing okay, thank you for your concern." No one could accuse him of falling for shallow girls either. Rumi was like . . . again Youji tried to remember the Christian word. A prophet? Sounded about right.
"I really apologize," said Rumi. "I should have let her know who I was at the train station. I had some inkling of her identity, but then . . .I couldn't let her know. She really thought she was talking to a complete stranger."
"I'm rather glad she wasn't, actually. But it was a good idea with the fake name. It would have been too much of a shock, otherwise."
"I was afraid she'd figure it out."
"Oh, she did. It was the flowers," Youji explained. "You forgot about the card.
Rumi's eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a perfect, lovely O.
"Does she hate me?" she asked.
"No, no. She was mortally embarrassed, but that happens about twice a day when you're a teenager. She got over it. And she wanted me to thank you on her behalf. She made me promise to let her see you next time she's in Tokyo."
"She's gone back to Nara?"
Youji nodded, "I talked to my grandmother's doctor and nurse. They did some more tests and didn't find anything. The recommendation is to keep a more careful eye on her. It's my fault, I've been distracted recently. I should have checked up more, paid more attention to what Emiko was saying," or rather not saying. Perhaps throwing her energies into his love live, or lack of one, was Emiko's way of coping.
"About the things my sister told you," Youji continued.
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Not even Jin." Rumi said quickly.
"I'm not concerned about that." Youji assured her. "And neither is Emiko. We both trust you. It can be quite a shock to find out such things."
"Did you know?"
"Yes, but not the details. My mother married a man she thought would love her, my father married a woman he thought he could live with. Neither of them were happy with the resulting relationship. I pieced together the general story from hints the adults dropped and things my mother used to tell me. I think because I was a boy, they didn't feel the need to protect me as much as Emiko." Youji took a breath, and asked, "Do your parents have a happy marriage?"
"I guess so," said Rumi. "They quarrel sometimes, but mostly they seem happy."
"You're very lucky."
"I guess. I never thought too much about it."
"I thought about it a lot. It seemed like all my friends' parents had these perfect marriages, and mine didn't. It wasn't the best comparison, because my parents always acted appropriately in public, or at least up until the end. There was a time that I was convinced that all relationships were as screwed up as my parents, and that most people were just better actors."
"Do you still believe that?" asked Rumi, concern showing on her face.
"No, turns out I don't make a good cynic. But it has affected the way I look at romance, the way I look at relationships. And it probably is at least partially responsible for my lack of success in either.
"I just haven't ever met anyone I could be sure about, someone I could completely trust and would trust me back . . . someone I was sure I wouldn't hurt."
"There are no guarantees in love, Youji. I found that out with Jin." Youji thought he could hear the pain through her voice.
"Do you think, if he came back, you would-"
"No." she said, anticipating the question. "You and Chiyako?"
"No."
"It's time to move on, don't you think?" she gave him a hint of a smile.
"With Hirokazu?" He needed to hear her say it.
"We've reached an understanding. It wouldn't be love, but maybe that's for the best."
"A life without love?"
"There are no absolutes with people, Youji. There was one person I was sure would never hurt me, and I was wrong. I'm not the same naïve eighth grader who fell in love with Jin. I wouldn't make that mistake with Nabishi."
"So you're certain about this?" She looked so calm, so collective.
"I can live with uncertainty, Youji." And her words were like a knife twisting in his heart.
But all he could do was nod silently. She'd thought it all out and accepted the risk. And who was he to contradict her? It was true, he wanted a relationship he could rely on absolutely and no one, not Chiyako, not even Rumi, could give him that certainty.
There was nothing else to be said, but Rumi stood still.
"I suppose this means that Hirokazu proposed to you tonight?"
"Yes, yes he did."
Instant pain. Why could she still hurt him so? The moment stretched on, but there was nothing Youji could give her.
Rumi turned, took a step away from him. I'll never see her like this again, Youji realized. Tomorrow she'll be officially engaged, then she'll be Hirokazu Rumi, and then Mrs. Hirokazu, a matriarch with several little Hirokazus in tow.
"Stop!" He cried, "Rumi stop! Don't leave."
He couldn't do it. Couldn't let her walk away, couldn't let her go through with her plan. And it wasn't because Hirokazu was a jackass, or that she deserved better, although those were perfectly good reasons.
"I love you, Rumi, " he whispered.
He was being impulsive. He was being selfish. He wasn't considering her carefully reasoned opinion, or the mess he might make of her ordered world. It didn't matter, he'd deal with the guilt later. He had to make her give him a chance, or at least give him a grain of hope. Any sign to show that he wasn't too late.
"Rumi, I love you." He took two steps forward and swung her around, lest she try to run away. "I love you! I . . ."
He probed her face for a reaction. It was there, her lips were trembling. Oh, hell, he'd already made a complete idiot of himself, nothing more to lose. He kissed her.
And she kissed back. And at that instant, all of Youji's fears, all his worries, all his uncertainties fled. Kissing Rumi simply absorbed all his attention.
After a space of such undivided mutual attention, they came up for air and he spoke again.
"I love you, Rumi."
"I love you, Youji." The kiss should have given him a clue, but still the words shook him like live current.
"You do? You — but all those things you said, about Hirokazu proposing and you accepting-" but wait, she never told him her response. Youji glanced down at Rumi's hands, now both out of her pockets. They were entirely ringless.
"I turned him down, Youji," she said, and added, "It was an option, you know."
That called for more kissing. The one that followed was long and more laid back, giving him plenty of time to fully appreciate it.
"So, all this time, you weren't serious about Hirokazu?" he asked when their lips parted.
"No! I wasn't leading him on." She shook her head for emphasis. "I really thought I could go through with it. But then he proposed and suddenly I knew. . ."
"That you loved me?" His heart soared.
"No!" His heart sank. "I knew I loved you ages ago, you goof. I just suddenly knew that there was not way I could stand being married to Nabishi. No matter how many ground rules we set, and no matter how little we'd end up seeing each other. Even saving Jin and Rumi's relationship wasn't worth it."
That deserved another kiss, not that any old excuse wouldn't do just now. Rumi didn't seem to mind.
"You loved me ages ago?" Youji asked. "How long ago was that?"
"Since just before my accident, at the train station."
"Since . . .But I was jerk to you back then."
"I realized before you were a jerk to me." And she quickly planted another kiss on him before he could go into apology mode. Youji felt he could get used to this.
"Tell me truthfully, Youji," said Rumi as she looked steadily into his bright eyes, "When did you realize you loved me?"
"Just after I found out you'd been in the accident, when I didn't know how serious it was, when I realized I may lose you forever."
He bent in for yet another kiss, but Rumi stopped him, her finger on his lips.
"And when did you decide to confess your love to me?"
"Just now," he admitted, "when I realized I may lose you forever."
"You won't, Youji. Because I won't let you."
And then they went back to kissing.
Copyright Kim Smuga-Otto March 2001