Authors: Natsuo Kirino
“What difference does it make if the girl’s a year older or not? We’re talking about Professor Kijima’s son. I’m sure he’s more interested in a girl’s intelligence than her age.”
She squealed slightly and opened her tiny eyes as wide as I’d ever seen them.
“You’re right. And Professor Kijima’s handsome too. I love his biology classes!”
“All right. I’ll call Yuriko tonight and see what she says.”
I lied. I didn’t even know the Johnsons’ telephone number. But Kazue lowered her head with a worried look.
“Please be careful. Your sisters not the type to gossip, is she?”
“Oh we’re both very tight-lipped. Don’t even think about it.”
“Really? That’s a relief.” Kazue glanced at her watch. “Well, I’d better go show my face at the team meeting.”
“Have they let you skate yet?”
Kazue nodded uncertainly and picked up the navy-blue gym bag that all the team members carried.
“They told me when I made myself an outfit they’d let me skate. So I made one.”
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“Can I see?”
Reluctantly she pulled her skating suit out of her bag. It was navy and gold, the Q School colors. The cut and design was exactly like one of the cheerleaders’ costumes.
“I put the spangles on myself,” she said, holding the costume up to her chest.
“It looks like a cheerleaders uniform,” I said.
“It does?” Kazue looked perturbed for a second. “You think I made it look like a cheerleaders uniform because I wasn’t allowed to join the squad, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t think so, but others might.”
Kazue’s face clouded over when she heard my frank response, but then she mumbledalmost as if talking to herself”Too late now, I’ve already made it. I made it like this because I like the Q School colors, that’s all.”
Kazue was very adept at deluding herself, I’ll give her that much. In no time at all she could warp reality into meeting her own needs. I really, really hated that tendency of hers.
“What kind of girls do you think Kijima likes? I mean, girls from which clubs? What am I going to do if he hates girls on the ice-skating team? Or what if he’s one of those frivolous types who only likes the girls on the cheerleading squad? Then what’ll I do?”
“Don’t worry. The ice skaters are just as vivacious as the cheerleaders.
He’s bound to like girls on that team. At least it’s better than the basketball team! And I’ll bet he likes girls who are good in school.”
“Really? Do you think so too? Ever since I fell in love with Kijima, I’ve enjoyed my studies even more.”
Kazue spoke happily, spreading her uniform across the desk. Then she balled it and stuffed it back in her gym bag. Kazue was too impossibly clumsy to do anything neatly.
“Oops, I’ve got to run. If I’m late I’ll have to polish the senior girls’
blades. See you later!”
Kazue snatched up the bag that contained her uniform and skates and bounded noisly out of the room. After she left I sat in the classroom for some time alone. It was autumn and nightfall was early. In no time at all it had grown dark. My rear end began to hurt. I noticed a line of graffiti on the edge of the desk where I was sitting. Someone had written Love … love … I love Junji! with a felt-tip pen. Love … love … I love 1 7 4
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Takashi! Love… love… 7 love Kijima…. Without really thinking about it, I was led by association to imagine other lines to write, recalling the passion that had hovered in the air between Mitsuru and Kijima. I let out a long sigh.
I’ve never once in my entire life been in love with a man. Yes, I’m a human being who has gone through life just fine without ever experiencing that hovering lump of passion. And I have no regrets. Kazue was not so different from myself. Why was she not able to appreciate this?
It was past nine o’clock. I’d just gotten out of the bath and was heading to the sitting room to watch TV when the front door opened and my grandfather stepped into the apartment. He’d been out drinking. His face was bright red, and he was out of breath.
“Well, you sure are late. I went ahead and ate.”
I pointed to the dishes with my grandfathers portion of the meal that I’d left on the little tea table: mackerel stewed in miso, boiled greens, and pickles. My grandfather had fixed it before he went out. My grandfather let out a long breath without saying anything. He was wearing a suit I’d never seen before, garish, with thick black stripes over a bright green background. His short-sleeved shirt was a pale yellow, and he wore a black string Texas tie with a strange-looking cloisonne fastener.
Grandfather had small hands for a man, and as he loosened his tie strings he started to chuckle to himself, as if he’d just remembered something.
No doubt he’d paid a visit to the Blue River.
“Grandpa, did you go to Mitsuru’s mom’s bar?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Was Mitsuru’s mom there?”
“Uh-huh.”
My grandfather’s reticence was odd, given his usual loquacity.
“So how was it?”
“What a wonderful person!” Grandfather mumbled in response, more to himself than to me. He turned to look at the bonsai he’d left outside and then stepped onto the veranda, obviously not interested in further conversation with me. He never left the bonsai out in the evening dew, so I found his behavior particularly disconcerting.
That night I had a bizarre dream. My grandfather and I were floating 1 7 5
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endlessly on an ancient sea. Everyone was there: my dead mother; my father, who is now living with a Turkish woman. Some of us sat on the black rocks scattered across the ocean floor while others lounged about on the gritty sand. I was wearing a green pleated skirt that I had loved as a child. I remember rubbing my hand along the pleats and thinking how wistful it made me feel. My grandfather was dressed in the same stylish outfit he’d worn to the Blue River. The ends of his string tie floated in the water. My parents were wearing what they always wore at home.
They looked like they did long ago. They looked like they did when I was a child.
The sea began to fill with plankton, which looked very much like swirling flakes of snow. When I turned to gaze up at the surface of the water, I could tell that the sky above it was clear and bright, and yet for some reason my family and I were happily living our lives on the dark floor of the ocean. Such a weird and yet tranquil dream. And how telling that Yuriko was nowhere to be found. Without her I felt relaxed and peaceful, and yet I could also sense a tension as I waited, wondering when she might make her appearance.
Kazue came swimming along in her cheerleader’s uniform, her hair jet black and her eyes set with determination. She was wearing fleshcolored tights, so I realized it was her ice-skating costume, not a cheerleaders uniform. Kazue moved with intense concentration to the tempo of the rhythmic exercise music, but because she was underwater her movements were slow and languid. I began to laugh. I wondered if Mitsuru was around too and looked around for her. Mitsuru was holed up in a wreck on the ocean’s floor, studying. Johnson and Masami were sitting on the deck of the wreck. I thought I’d head in that direction when all of a sudden everything around me grew dark. A giant figure had cast a shadow over the surface of the water, blocking out the rays of the sun. I looked up in surprise.
Yuriko had finally put in an appearance. I was the size of a child, but Yuriko, with the face and body of an adult, was dressed in the flowing white robes of a sea goddess. Her ample breasts were visible through her clothing. Yuriko swam toward us with her long arms and long legs, a radiant smile on her beautiful face. I was terrified by her eyes as she looked around underwater. They emitted no light. I hid in the shadow of a rock, but Yuriko stretched out her exquisitely formed arms and started to pull me to her.
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When I woke up it was just five minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I lay in bed, thinking about my dream. Ever since Yuriko showed up, Mitsuru, Kazue, and my grandfather all changed abruptly. Love …
love … everyone was tangled up with love: Mitsuru for Professor Kijima, Kazue for Kijima’s son, and my grandfather for Mitsurus mother. Of course, when it comes to love I have no idea what kind of chemical reaction takes over the heart, never having experienced it myself. All I knew was that I had to do something to ensure that at least Mitsurus and my grandfathers attentions returned to me. Would I be able to battle Yuriko? It didn’t matter. I had no choice.
During lunch break, Kazue sauntered over to my desk, beaming with confidence. She placed her lunch box on an empty chair and dragged the chair over to my desk with a rattling screech.
“Is it okay if I eat with you?”
She’d already sat down before she asked. Typical. I turned a frosty gaze on her. Dog! Fashion nightmare! Jerk! She looked even more repulsive today than usual, so repulsive I just wanted to shout abuse after abuse at her. She’d tried to curl her hair. Usually it hung limply down over her head like a helmet, but today it stuck out on both sides like a wide-brimmed hat. You could still see the lines where the curler pins had pressed down on her hair. And to make matters worse, today she’d somehow rigged her tiny drowsy-looking eyes so that she seemed to be double-lidded.
“What’d you do to your eyes?”
Kazue brought her hands up slowly to her eyelids.
“Oh. These are called Elizabeth Eyelids.”
She’d gotten hold of some beauty product that Japanese women glued to their eyelids to give them the extra fold they craved, because they thought it made their eyes look Western. She’d spied on one of the insider students attaching them to her eyes in the restroom. Just the very thought of Kazue holding that two-pronged toothpick-thin plastic wand up to her eye while she applied the device made my skin crawl. And then her skirt had shrunk so drastically that you could see halfway up her skinny thighs. She’d worked so hard at being attractive that she ended up looking more ridiculous than ever.
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The other girls in the class poked one another in the ribs when they saw Kazue and made no effort to hide their laughter. It made me sick just to think that others thought we were friends. I hadn’t minded so much when she’d just been the ugly know-it-all, but this new transformation was thanks to Yuriko, which made it all the worse.
“Sato, I’ve a favor to ask you.” Two of our classmates who were also on the ice-skating team came up alongside Kazue. Both were insiders, but one was clearly subordinate to the other. They were very close. Both had fathers who served in ambassadorial positions in foreign countries. It seems that different ambassadorial assignments carried different levels of prestige, depending on the country. The two girls treated each other with the deference associated with their fathers’ positions.
“What is it?” Kazue asked, turning to look up at them cheerfully.
When they saw her Elizabeth Eyelids they both broke into smiles that they struggled to conceal. Kazue, however, did not notice. Instead she twirled her fingers through her curls as if to say, Look at my new hairstyle.
When the two shifted their gaze to her hair, they could no longer stifle their laughter. Kazue watched them blankly.
“The team has designated a midterm review committee, and we’ve been put in charge. I hate to ask, but would you let us copy your English and Classics notes? You’re the best student on the team.”
“Of course,” Kazue responded, beaming with pride.
“In that case, would you mind if we also had your social studies and geography notes? Everyone will be really grateful.”
“No problem.”
They hurried out of the room. I was certain they were in the hall laughing hysterically.
“You’re such an idiot!” I said. “There’s no such thing as a midterm review committee.”
I knew it was none of my business, but I just couldn’t help myself. Not that it mattered. Kazue was still luxuriating in hearing them call her “the best student in the club.”
“We all need to help one another out.”
“Oh, that’s just terrific. And how are they going to help you?”
“Well, I don’t know how to skate, so they can teach me what I need to know.”
“Wait a minute. You joined the skating team and you can’t skate?”
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Kazue started to unwrap the handkerchief around her lunch box with a troubled look. She pulled out a squished rice ball and a piece of tomato. That was it. I had brought along the mackerel my grandfather had left uneaten and was enjoying my meal. But when I saw Kazue s meager fare I was too startled to continue. Kazue started to eat the rice ball with apparent distaste. It was just a plain rice ball, lightly salted, with nothing stuffed inside.
“It’s not that I can’t skate at all. I’ve been skating with my father any number of times at Korakuen Park.”
“So what happened with your costume? Did they let you skate?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Kazue turned away.
“The cost of the costume and the rink charges are probably really high,” I persisted. “Didn’t your father complain?”
“Why should he?” Kazue pursed her lips angrily. “We’ve got the money.”
They most certainly did not have the money. I bitterly recalled the gloom of Kazue’s house and the way her father had dunned me for the international phone call I’d made.
“Let’s not talk about my team anymore. I’m interested in hearing about Yuriko. Did you ask her?”
“I called her right away. Listen, you have nothing to worry about.
Yuriko said Kijima was just giving her a tour of the school. She also said it doesn’t seem that Kijima is going out with anyone else right now.”
“That’s great!” Kazue clapped her hands with joy. I found the thrill of lying even more entertaining than I had imagined.
“Oh, and one more thing. This is just Yuriko s opinion, of course, and it may have no significance, but it seems that Kijima likes older actresses and such.”
“Who? Who?”
“Actresses like Reiko Ohara.”
I was on a roll and couldn’t stop. At the time, Reiko Ohara was one of the most adored actresses, or so I’d heard. “Reiko Ohara!” Kazue wailed, and stared blankly ahead in frustration. How will I ever replace Reiko Ohara? she seemed to be thinking. For a minute I remembered all the pleasure I’d had at tricking Yuriko with my lies when we were little, and my heart fluttered excitedly. But Yuriko had never believed me com-1 7 9