Tokyo Hearts: A Japanese Love Story (17 page)

‘Bye,’ yelled out Yuriko, still sitting on the stool, not able to turn away from the mirror.

Haruka left Yuriko’s house and walked home with thoughts of Jun and the engagement and the fact that he hadn’t proposed. Her life was getting complicated waiting for Jun to pop the question. Later at home in her bedroom, she flicked through her bridal magazines again until she fell asleep. Haruka dreamt of a lavish wedding reception with lots of guests, a three-tiered wedding cake and classical music in the background, but it was not Jun holding her hand in the dream – it was Takashi.

A good friend never offends

The weeks went by and Takashi spent his time trying to get through his studies. Although he studied until late, he would take a lot of breaks and it was sometimes two or three in the morning before he slept. He’d never been a morning person, and these late nights allowed him to get through his studies and then sleep in until noon.

He was wrapped up tightly in his futon one Monday morning in November when he was woken up by his mobile phone. It was vibrating against his chest. This sensation, as well as its ringing sound, penetrated his dreams and he pictured the bells of a temple clanging loudly over and over again. Takashi slowly drifted into reality and realised that there were no temples and it was the ring tone on his mobile phone that had woken him from his slumber. He exposed his face to the light of the morning and blinked at his mobile, trying to focus.

The time on the phone showed 10:19 a.m. Takashi picked it up and answered.

‘Moshi moshi,’ he said in a muffled voice and sat up in order to wake himself up a little.

Masaya’s shrill laughter came painfully through the phone, and Takashi held the handset an inch from his ear.

‘You’re studying too hard and putting too much emphasis on exams when you should be chasing girls,’ he said. ‘You’re going to get ill looking at your textbooks all the time.’

Takashi rubbed his eyes and changed the conversation. ‘Thanks for the sunglasses,’ he said.

‘The sunglasses?’ Masaya asked him innocently.

‘From the Loft store,’ Takashi replied.

‘No problem – just remember me when you’re a top executive!’ Masaya joked.

Takashi pulled himself up out of his bed and found himself laughing. Listening to Masaya, he really missed his high school friends.

They were talking for about fifteen minutes – well, actually Masaya was doing most of the talking, hardly breathing between sentences – when he paused for a second, seemingly lost in thought.

‘I have a brilliant idea!’ Masaya suddenly announced.

He’d decided, failing to wait for any agreement on Takashi’s part, that they were going to head for Ginza that very afternoon to eat rice and noodle dishes at Kenji’s restaurant. Takashi was half asleep and he couldn’t get a word in. Before he knew it, he’d been informed that they were to meet in front of the Apple store in Ginza at one p.m., and that there would be no excuses.

The call ended and Takashi remained sitting in an upright stupor for a couple of minutes, looking at the textbooks scattered all over the floor beside his bed. He shook his head, knowing that he’d planned to spend the whole afternoon reading through next week’s class notes, entitled “The Power of Semiotics and Branding Equity”. However, it must have been his eagerness to see his friends or Masaya’s voice beaming through the phone and his cheerful tone that changed Takashi’s mind. He took a quick shower, but spent a little longer shaving to make sure he didn’t nick himself and to get his sideburns just right. After that, he reorganised his study plan to leave a window of time open that would allow him to meet his mates in Ginza. For the first time in weeks, he felt a feeling of refreshment, even before he embarked on this afternoon adventure.

Before Takashi left his apartment, he checked his e-mails. His friend Akira, who was studying in America, had sent a group e-mail. It read:

Hi guys,

Sorry I haven’t been in touch for a while. I’ve been travelling when I’m not studying. My girlfriend from Tokyo and I are going to New York next week. We’re really looking forward to that. Please send me an e-mail when you have the time
.

     Akira

Takashi printed out a copy to show Masaya and hurried to the station to catch the train to Tokyo.

It was just after one p.m. when Takashi spotted Masaya leaning against the side of the Apple store, not far from Ginza train station. He followed his eye line and saw that he was checking out three girls, all wrapped up in cashmere coats and dripping with gold jewellery. Two of them were applying lipstick and the other was preening her hair. It was not unusual to see people posing in the middle of the street dressed as if they were about to go to a party or a wedding in this upmarket area of Tokyo.

Takashi was fully aware that Ginza was one of the busiest and most expensive shopping districts in the world. This was not a place he would normally frequent to go shopping; it was too pricey for his budget. He knew Haruka liked the area, though. In Ginza he could imagine her and Yuriko browsing through the luxurious Western brands they liked so much, like Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Dior and Chanel. The only shops that interested Takashi and his friends were Sony for the latest gadgets or the Apple store to check out the latest iPad and iPhone. Even though the whole of the centre of Ginza breathed opulence and expense, affordable but very respectable eating holes could be found down the back streets, behind the department stores and designer boutiques. Kenji’s eatery, Umi Gohan, could be defined as one of those establishments.

Takashi called out to Masaya whose face lit up when he saw him. Masaya ran over to catch up with him and they headed away from the main shopping avenue to the corner of Mihara and Azuma Street, where Umi Gohan was located. They found it quite easily, and Takashi and Masaya passed under the noren curtain and entered into a place full of young office ladies in suits and fashionable female sales assistants enjoying a meal.

The restaurant could easily seat twenty to thirty people at the tables that were lined up on the left hand side. On the right were nine stools where people could eat at the counter. This side bench was covered with several bottles of shochu rice wine, many bearing a tag labelled with the names of regular customers. Alongside the liquor were wooden stands filled with chopsticks and napkins. Next to those were condiments such as seven-spice shijimi and Kikkoman soy sauce. At the register was a Red Cross box for charity donations. The food was brought out from the back and into the middle of the restaurant from the kitchen.

There was only one businessman to be found inside sitting amongst a room full of young ladies: a nervous type eating at a furious pace, as if time was against him.

Masaya and Takashi watched Kenji come out from the back. He was dressed in black jeans and a steel grey polo neck top. Kenji turned to two of the young women, his arms laden with trays of steaming bowls of noodles, and gave each girl a short, cheeky smile as he passed them their lunch. It was then that he swung around and recognised them.

‘What are you guys doing here?’ Kenji asked, laughing. Just as quickly, he remembered where he was and offered them a table second from the front, next to the businessman. Takashi sat facing the window and Masaya sat opposite him.

‘Good to see you here. Sit down, relax and take a look at our menu,’ said Kenji.

They sat back to admire this small but neat and decidedly clean restaurant, of which Kenji was so proud. Once they were seated, Kenji went back to the kitchen.

‘This place is nice. Look how clean it is. We should come here more often. How many times have you been here, Takashi?’ Masaya asked Takashi.

‘Only once before,’ he said.

‘Just once?’ Masaya asked.

‘Yes, just after it opened. And you, Masaya?’

‘I brought Momo-chan here for lunch about a year ago. She raved about it afterwards. Every now and then she asks me if we can come back here,’ Masaya said.

‘Why didn’t you bring her here today?’ Takashi asked him.

‘She’s out shopping with a girlfriend trying to find things for the apartment.’

‘Your apartment?’

‘Yes. She says it looks too much like a bachelor pad.’

‘She’s right, you know.’

‘Ha ha. I said to her that anything was fine as long as she didn’t buy anything floral,’said Masaya.

‘What did she say to that?’ asked Takashi.

Masaya grinned and chuckled at Takashi. ‘She didn’t say anything. She threw a cushion at me!’

Takashi tried to imagine Masaya and Momo-chan having cushion fights. It would’ve been fun to watch.

They sat back and perused the restaurant for a couple of minutes.

‘Have you heard from Akira?’ Takashi suddenly asked Masaya.

‘No, I haven’t checked my e-mails recently,’ he replied.

Takashi took out the e-mail that he’d printed out from his pocket. ‘Have a read of this,’ he said, passing it over to Masaya.

Masaya read the e-mail. ‘He doesn’t say much. Who’s the girlfriend?’

‘I don’t know. He doesn’t say much about her at all. It must be serious.’

‘I suppose so,’ replied Masaya.

They each picked up a menu and eagerly studied it. There was a terrific choice of dishes. They both opted for the lunch sets, but couldn’t decide which one. Masaya was looking at the lunchtime options and had the choice of a tuna mince dish, baked spicy tuna, a shellfish set, Chinese style noodles or a tuna sashimi. He finally decided on the baked spicy tuna noodle set. Takashi was looking at the Maguro Tuna board and chose a raw tuna rice dish called Teka Donburi.

The meal arrived, and they thanked Kenji. He turned and went back into the kitchen again and Masaya lowered his voice and indicated to Takashi to tilt his head closer.

‘Have a look – in the last fifteen minutes, four tables have turned over customers and eight girls have been replaced by another eight young girls and a lot of them are very pretty!’ he said.

Takashi turned and looked around the room. Masaya was right. This place was full of gorgeous girls in suits and designer clothes. Masaya and Takashi looked at each other with a knowing smile. Kenji had been one of the most popular boys in high school, and he’d often helped them find dates. Kenji had obviously been placed as the front man for the restaurant and the combination of his rugged good looks and his charming personality was drawing in the female workers from the surrounding area.

‘No wonder Kenji is always saying how much he loves his job!’ Masaya said to Takashi.

‘Maybe I should get a job here!’ Takashi joked.

Kenji’s father was American and his mother was Japanese. He’d taken after his father, in that he was very tall and towered over most other Japanese men. His shoulders were broad and he was as tough as beef jerky, thanks to long hours working out in the gym when he was younger. Kenji had the physical attributes of a male model. He had an olive complexion, as he often spent weekends in the surf. His hair was as black as charcoal and he had a curl that licked his forehead and swept over a roguishly handsome face. However, it was his angelic smile that all the girls commented on.

Takashi was still thinking about his friend Kenji and his good fortune when Masaya suddenly turned to attract the attention of the businessman who’d been eating alone. He was just about to leave, and he was startled by Masaya’s call.

‘Hey, wait up,’ Masaya cried out to him. Masaya pointed in the direction of the businessman’s forehead. The man turned and almost looked afraid of Masaya. He’d obviously sweated over his hot meal and he had a piece of paper napkin left stuck to his forehead. He’d probably wiped his brow after his meal, and his oily skin had caused it to stick. He removed the napkin and the fear on his face quickly turned to gratitude after his embarrassment had passed. Having checked his forehead again, he hurried out, his head down and his shoulders hunched over.

Masaya turned to Takashi and said in a hushed voice. ‘So tell me, what happened to you and Haruka? I thought everything was going well with you two until I saw Jun getting friendly with her at the café in Daikanyama.’

‘I thought everything was going well, too. I was sure we were starting to get closer, but now I’m not so sure,’ Takashi replied. He picked up the seven-spice shijimi and started stamping it on the table in short bursts.

‘What happened?’ Masaya asked.

‘Oh, come on Masaya – you’ve seen it for yourself. She’s obviously more interested in Jun and I’m beginning to understand why. For starters, he’s rich, tall, better looking than me, and obviously a lot more charming. We used to talk on the phone every second day. I don’t know what to do. From the very first day I saw her at the lecture, I thought that she was the one – and I thought I was getting closer to her, but….’

Masaya interrupted. ‘I know you really like her, Takashi. Every time I tried to call your mobile a few months ago you were on the phone talking with her.’

‘Exactly, and now I’m lucky if I get to speak to her once a week,’ said Takashi. He put the seven-spice shijimi back next to the soy sauce.

‘I don’t understand it, either. When I saw her with Jun, it seemed to me that she was just being polite to him. The problem is that she’s female and there’s no way to figure out what a woman is thinking,’ said Masaya.

‘Well, I have to take it the way I see it – and I don’t think she’s interested in me anymore.’

‘That’s rubbish, Takashi. Jun might be able to fool the girls, but it didn’t take long for me to see through his pretentious exterior and it won’t be long before Haruka sees this, too. If you want me to be honest, I still think she really likes you and Jun is just clouding her judgement.’

‘Well, time will tell,’ Takashi replied.

‘Where’s he from?’ asked Masaya. ‘I’ve never seen him before and I’ve never heard Haruka mention him.’

‘Jun’s from Kyoto – he’s Yuriko’s cousin,’ Takashi replied.