Taro turned toward the front door, but soon realized his uncle was now sitting at the kitchen table, watching him go through his cabinet. Taro sighed and shook his head.
"Tell me about your guest, Taro-kun."
"A shy girl I just met. I think she ran off down the back stairs when she heard the knock on the door."
"You must be careful about inviting people in, young nephew. Many of the people in this neighborhood are not to be trusted. Drugs own their soul. They will rob you of your possessions… and possibly worse. If something were to happen to you, my sister, your mother, would never forgive me."
"Yes, I know uncle." Taro nodded. "You've told me this one hundred times. Still, I'm very grateful that you allow me to stay here."
"You are a talented young man and I am a close relative with a vacant warehouse. You are more than welcome to stay here until I find a new tenant for the place. And I appreciate that you are able to watch the place for me. It saves me money on security services. However, I do not want you to fall into danger."
"This girl is not dangerous. She's a very sweet person. I wish you would have met her." Taro said this with more loudly than normal.
"Tell me, Taro-kun. How is your work coming?"
"It's fine, uncle."
Uncle Shiitaki stood up and started walking to the far corner of the large empty room. Taro got up and followed him to his studio. After passing the concrete pillar, his uncle walked around the slab of marble and patted the top corner, the corner Taro had chiseled off two weeks ago.
"I suppose it's a start," he said with a chuckle. Taro frowned. His uncle squinted at the painting easels.
"I've been blocked lately," Taro said before his uncle could speak. "It's just one of those things. I'm doing my best to work through it."
"This profession is not for everyone, Taro-kun. You have a great talent. But your output is spotty at best."
"What can I do?" Taro asked. "The ideas just aren't coming."
"Then you must go get them! Start something. Anything. You must get your creative energy flowing. I see many artists with far less talent than you plying their trade in the park."
"One thousand Yen for a caricature. Two thousand for a portrait." Taro crossed his arms. "It drains the soul."
Uncle Shiitake shook his head. "It pays for food."
"I won't do junk!"
Uncle Shiitake smiled. "That is an admirable trait. I can respect that. But you have to eat."
"I understand your viewpoint as well, uncle. I still have some prize money left over. When that runs out, I will take your advice. I promise."
The old man extended his hand and rubbed the hair on Taro's head. "You're a good boy. I wish you the best. I will visit again next week." He bowed and walked back toward the door.
When the front door clicked shut, Taro ran over to the food cabinet, pulled out the red tape case, and stuffed the red tape back into the VCR. He hit the PLAY button.
Ryoko's image appeared immediately from the static. She was sitting cross-legged once again, still wearing the same jeans and blouse combination. Though her eyes followed Taro as he walked past the TV, she did not say a word.
"Would you like to continue having tea with me?" Taro asked.
Ryoko smiled warmly. "Yes. I would."
In what looked to be the move of an experienced gymnast, Ryoko planted her arms at her sides and pushed up. Then she shot her legs forward while twisting and jumped out of the television. Her body flickered slightly, then rejoined, as she flew toward him, passing through the LCD screen as if it were a force field. She landed on her feet perfectly, her momentum leaving her standing up facing the image of her bedroom when she straightened.
"Wow," Taro said.
Ryoko saw her tea mug in his right hand and the tape box in his left. She reached for the mug. "Thank you." She walked toward the kitchen table and sat back down.
Taro sat down across from her. "Who are you? I mean… what are you?"
Ryoko smiled. "Data." Then she shot Taro a funny look. "Excuse me." She reached behind her back and lifted up her blouse. Taro's eyes widened as she pulled out his missing steak knife. "You can never be too safe," she said as she walked to the cabinet and dropped the knife back into the beer mug.
Taro sat up straight as Ryoko returned to her seat. He pushed his seat back a little when Ryoko sat down.
"Should I be afraid of you?" he asked with a confused expression.
Ryoko looked at him thoughtfully for several seconds. Then she nodded. "Yes. I suppose you should be."
Taro picked up the red videotape case and read the side of it again. "DO NOT VIEW THIS TAPE!" He turned it over and read, "If you view this tape, a girl with a really big knife may come out of the TV set and kill you!"
"Is there any truth to the warning on this tape?"
A pained expression crossed Ryoko's face for just a moment. "I'll understand it if you don't want to spend time with me anymore," she said.
"Look, Ryoko. I know you don't like it when I ask you too many questions. But you have to admit, all this is really weird. Beautiful girls don't live on videotapes and jump out of television sets." Ryoko eyes lit up a little when Taro said the word beautiful. "I really need to know... something… for the sake of my sanity."
"That's fair. I promise I will tell you more. When I feel comfortable telling you. Right now please just understand that I'm a girl who's doing her best to survive from day to day."
Taro nodded and smiled. "I can relate to that… because so am I." Ryoko gave Taro a funny look. "Okay, except for the 'girl' part," he added with a wide smile.
Ryoko laughed sweetly. "I like you, Taro." Then she grabbed Taro's mug and walked over to the hot plate. "Let's warm these up."