“Who’s the guy?” Kikumi asked, peering at my face.
“Nobody, really.”
“What’s he like? Does he drive a car? Or a motorcycle?”
“Probably neither.”
“Is he nice?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“What kind of dates do you usually have?”
“We usually go to his place.”
“Where does this guy live?”
“In Taito-ku.”
Hmm, Kikumi murmured. He sounds pretty refined. I mean, sounds like he makes a living. She took a sip of hojicha as she said this.
I had met Kikumi at our university’s matriculation ceremony. We were in the same department and had been assigned seats next to each other. Her last name is Kasahara, mine is Kase.
Kikumi hadn’t really been going to class either. She commuted from home, though, so she spent a lot of time at my place.
My parents annoy me whenever I’m home, she said. “As long as I pretend to go to class, they rest easy. They have no idea that I’m holing up here.” Kikumi took another sip of hojicha.
Kikumi was a lesbian. It hadn’t even been six months since she admitted it to herself, which was why she didn’t have a proper girlfriend yet. Kikumi had relayed this to me in a detached manner the second time she came over to hang out at my place.
I thought you might be a lesbian too, Ai. That’s why I decided to confide in you, Kikumi had gone on.
Nope, not me. I’ve never been in love with a guy, but I’ve never been in love with a girl either. I guess you could say that I’m as yet undecided about whether I’m homosexual or heterosexual, but I think I’m probably heterosexual. Even though there’s no basis for it.
I had thought about it carefully as I spoke, and when I was finished, Kikumi had laughed.
Ai, there’s something very rigorous about you. You must be quite the scholar.
Sure, I can work and I do like to study. Just once, I got the top grade in every subject—straight fives, I told Kikumi, and she let out a little whoop.
That’s awesome. Even in gym and music, wow!
The time I got straight fives had been the first term of my first year in middle school. In music, there had been no practical test, and in gym, we had played Ping-Pong for the entire term. I’m tone deaf, and I have slow reflexes, but I happen to excel at Ping-Pong. My relatives who ran the Enoshima beach shack, their family’s main business was a small ryokan, and there was a shabby old Ping-Pong table at the inn. I had been playing Ping-Pong against my older cousins since elementary school. It goes without saying, though, that I never got straight fives again.
Anyway, make sure you’re straight with this guy, Kikumi said with a deadpan expression. Because, Ai, you make it seem like you’re playing it straight, when really your attentions are elsewhere. Kikumi seemed to be looking right through me, as if to say, “I’m onto you.”
I got it. I’ll do my best to play it straight, I promised Kikumi. Meanwhile, I marveled at how different her impression of “this guy” and who Nishino actually was must have been.
Nishino was delighted when I told him about this exchange with Kikumi. Even more delighted than I had expected.
“You know, lately, I’ve been wondering what’s going on,” Nishino said.
Nishino and I were in his bed. Apparently, our bodies were well suited to each other. Nishino had been the one to say so, and he was probably right.
I may have slept with a lot of girls, but you’re the best, Ai, Nishino told me. You might think that I use that word a lot—the “best”—but you would be sorely mistaken. To say someone is the best, well, that just ends up reminding a girl about how many other girls I’ve been with. No—rarely have I dared to utter such a startling admission. I couldn’t tell whether Nishino was being boastful or self-deprecating.
Hmm, I murmured in response. I had no idea whether sex with Nishino was good, bad, or average. It wasn’t that I hadn’t had sex before, just that the sample wasn’t large enough for me to be able to discern if this sex was good or bad.
“Do you like me, Ai?” Nishino asked, trailing his lips along my throat.
“I like you,” I replied, without skipping a beat. Had I given myself time to think, my mind would have started wandering. I had learned from Nishino that one mustn’t be vague—neither in speech nor in conduct—while in the throes of passion.
You should know, Ai, Nishino had explained to me at one point, when you get to be my age, vigor becomes quite important.
Once you lose momentum, well, it’s all over. Everything goes to hell, as if you’ve been swallowed up by a big, gaping crevice that’s opened up in the ground. You might never recover.
At first I had no idea what Nishino was talking about. Like I said, my experience was limited to boys in their teens or early twenties. It was only after this conversation had gone on for quite some time that I finally realized Nishino was referring to erections. This came as a surprise to me, having always assumed that boys would get an erection at any time, that it wasn’t a question of “could”—I had thought they managed to do it even when they weren’t in the mood.
You’re so honest, Nishino, I said, a little impressed.
It’s because honesty, manners, and reason are important to me, he said. This was a mantra of Nishino’s. Why Nishino bothered with the likes of me, I’ll never know. What was it about me—a not-yet-fully-formed creature—that a grown-up like Nishino found attractive? Maybe it was actually my lack of development that he liked. I once mumbled something to him, along these lines, and Nishino thought about it for a moment before shaking his head.
Ai, in addition to the fact that you’re more mature than any grown woman, you’re also purer than any chaste young girl, he said.
That’s quite an embarrassing way of putting it, I said with surprise, and Nishino took me in his arms. He held me tightly for a moment.
I always suspected that Nishino saw something beyond me, some other version of the story. The real me was quite different, but his take on things made him feel good.
Nishino would probably insist that he wasn’t the kind of guy who harbored illusions. He’d probably also say something like, that was the reason why, after all these years, he had never married—that in the end, he wasn’t capable of carrying out a passionate love affair. But the truth was that Nishino did seem like the dreamy type who harbored illusions. Not that I had any idea what kinds of dreams those were.
Nishino and I spent the entire afternoon in bed. He had slipped out of the office to come and meet me.
I can’t wait until the evening to see you, Nishino often said to me lately. I miss your face, Ai. I want to feel your breath on my cheek. I want to hear your voice directly in my ear. Nishino would murmur these things to me.
I must be out of my mind, Nishino would go on. Do you like me, Ai? He would ask me the same question as before. And I would reply the same way, on the spot.
I like you.
Nishino would furrow his brow. Then after moving around a bit, he would ejaculate. He was very adept at coming on my stomach.
Use a condom, I’d say to him, but Nishino never did. Instead he would say, Never have sex when it’s near your ovulation day. And the truth was, Nishino never tried to have sex around that time.
“That’s dangerous,” Kikumi said. She was making a passing comment about Nishino’s recent obsession with me. “He’ll get laid off before he knows it, if he keeps playing hooky like that.”
It’s a small company, and he’s like his own boss, so he won’t get laid off, I replied in an uncertain tone.
Kikumi rolled her eyes. “Who does this guy think he is?”
Kikumi asked so many questions about Nishino, I ended up having to promise to introduce them to each other. I dreaded it. I imagined that the elusive, ephemeral quality of my relationship with Nishino—
which may or may not have been real—would dissipate if it weren’t just the two of us alone together.
Our relationship was fleeting. That’s what I liked about it. But if the two of us were to spend time with someone else, I dreaded that it might provide external confirmation of the relationship between Nishino and me—validating us as “a couple.” As soon as that happened, it would be like pinning a bill to the wall, and eventually we would be forced to settle accounts.
On the day I had promised to introduce them, Kikumi showed up wearing ridiculously high heels. In these heels, Kikumi was even taller than Nishino. On her wrists and around her neck and fingers, she was adorned with twice as many accessories as usual. Her makeup was heavier too. I thought she looked like someone who was dressed up for a Shinto festival.
Kikumi peered at Nishino’s face with her intense gaze. Nishino returned her look with steady eyes. I sat idly beside them. Quite suddenly, I was struck by a recollection of the angle of Nishino’s erection.
We were at a coffee shop that Kikumi had specified. Kikumi had ordered a coffee, decisively, so Nishino and I had followed suit and ordered coffees as well. The coffee was quite delicious. Sunlight poured through the shop’s windows. There were two white tulips in a crystal vase on the table.
At first we were quiet. Kikumi ordered another coffee. Nishino and I each ordered another coffee too. Nishino was laughing. His face was dead serious, but just one layer beneath the skin he was chuckling to himself. I myself felt a little like crying. Kind of like an idiot. Both Kikumi and I had been alive for less than half the time that Nishino had. And besides, I didn’t even like Nishino all that much. Or so I thought.
“Are you hungry?” Nishino said after a while. As we had been sitting in silence, apart from each other, time had passed, and before we knew it, the sun was starting to set.
“I am,” I said quickly. Even though I wasn’t really all that hungry.
“I’m not hungry but I would have a drink,” Kikumi said slowly. Kikumi’s lips were very pretty. They were a shiny and glossy pearl pink.
“Nishino, what is it you like about Ai?” Kikumi asked, as if this were part of an ongoing conversation.
“Ah, I too would like to have someone explain that to me,” Nishino replied quietly. As if it were part of an ongoing conversation. “In all my life, this may well be the most deviant situation I’ve ever found myself in.” Nishino spoke pretty calmly for a deviant.
Kikumi kept her gaze focused on Nishino. Nishino returned it just as fixedly. One might even have taken the two of them for lovers.
I drank down the last of my coffee. There was only a little bit left in the cup, but I took my time finishing it off. I could hear a buzzing sound over by the counter. It must have been the noise of coffee beans being ground. Just then, I felt a fervent desire to fall in love with Nishino. I wanted to love Nishino in a way that would make him love me. That’s what I was thinking. But the fact was that I didn’t love him. The electric coffee grinder kept buzzing away in the background.
Hey, we should die together.
I can’t quite remember the first time that Nishino said this to me. I think it was around when I was about to start commuting to Enoshima again, so almost a year must have passed since I had met Nishino. Although I had spent little time on campus during the previous year, I hadn’t flunked any of my courses. That was because, as much as possible, I tried to enroll in classes where exams and reports mattered more than attendance. I got lots of A’s because I still happened to like studying. I had turned twenty. And as before, I hardly ever went to school, seeing Nishino three times a week instead.
“If I keep meeting up with you in the daytime, it stands to reason the company will go under,” Nishino had started saying, so our dates were all day Sunday, and then two other evenings in the middle of the week.
The boss can’t take Saturdays off! Nishino said this with a note of tedium. Had I known, I might’ve never started my own company. I’d have taken an undemanding position in government service, so that I could spend all my time the way I like—with you, Ai. Nishino’s tone was semi-serious.
Starting in July, I’ll be working in Enoshima, so we won’t be able to see each other on Sundays, I told him.
Nishino went pale. “I don’t like that at all!” he cried. Immediately he looked embarrassed for having cried out.
“What’s become of me?” Nishino would sometimes utter. This is why I have never, to this day, loved a woman, in the true sense of the word, he would continue in a low voice. Even though it seems meaningless to say “in the true sense of the word.” Nishino would laugh a little as he said this. I liked the way he looked when he laughed best. His handsome features would give way to a sort of unguardedness.
“We’re not going to die together,” I would reply.
“I worry about leaving you behind, Ai.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my own affairs. And anyway, it’s very strange to talk about who you’ll leave behind.”
“I can’t stand the thought of you having sex with other men, Ai.”
“But even now, I could do that anytime I wanted to.”
My reply had been reflexive, and after it came out, I covered my mouth. What I had said was mean. And I hated meanness. What it did to both the perpetrators and to the victims.
Nishino’s expression again looked embarrassed. I mean, really, what am I saying? I sound like a young girl, he said, and let out a sigh.
“Hey, let’s have sex right now,” Nishino said. And then, without waiting for my response, he took me roughly.
I guess I like rough sex, I thought to myself. It also occurred to me that perhaps I preferred the way that Nishino had sex to Nishino himself. But then again, Nishino’s way of having sex was also a part of Nishino himself. I caught myself before I got too deep in thought. Mustn’t lose momentum.
Nishino finished, rough and quick. We laid in the bed, stroking each other’s bellies. Nishino’s stomach was supple. Mine was taut.
Hey, we should die together. Nishino said it once more. In a soft voice. I strained my ears to try to determine whether or not there was a note of madness concealed in the softness. Nishino repeated himself, over and over. We should die together.
At the end of August, Kikumi and Nishino came to see me in Enoshima. The day was frenetic from early in the morning. Such a strange word, frenetic. But that’s what it was. I murmured it to myself, three times over. Frenetic. Then I said it to Kikumi and Nishino. They laughed as they drank their amazaké.
Nishino and Kikumi put up an umbrella on the beach. Nishino spent the whole time sprawled on the sand. Kikumi went into the ocean every so often. And I, as I said, was too frenetic to even take a break and go out to see them.
Once it was evening, when the waves got a little bigger and the pace eventually slowed, I sat down to relax in a chair for the first time that day and looked out across the sea. The Bon festival was over, but soon the jellyfish would appear, so the crowds had come out while the swimming was still good.
Most people didn’t go in the ocean, they just sat idly under an umbrella.
They are mourning, Nishino said later that night. They are mourning the summer that’s gone by.
I turned my gaze from the water back to the beach, where Nishino and Kikumi were sprawled next to each other under their umbrella. Kikumi had long legs. Recently she had found a lover. A woman, three years older, who worked in an office, apparently.
I’m absolutely crazy about her, Kikumi told me. We had been drinking barley tea at my apartment.
Falling in love is nice, Kikumi went on. To tell you the truth, I used to think that you and Nishino weren’t really a good match, but now I can see that really isn’t the case. Kikumi started speaking faster as she neared the end of her speech. When you’re in love, it barely makes any difference how old the person is or what kind of habits or n
ature they have. Her lips were a shiny and glossy baby pink today.
Kikumi and Nishino looked like a father and daughter who got along well.
That was so relaxing, Nishino said that night. I really took it easy. Kikumi’s a good kid. You have good people around you, Ai, Nishino said solemnly. You create your own world, so that means that the person at the center of it—you, Ai—you must be a really good kid too. Nishino pulled gently on my hair.
I don’t really see it that way, I replied brusquely.
Nishino’s so gloomy. The thought flickered in my mind. Something about him had annoyed me. It was probably because I had worked all day without any rest. I soon closed my eyes and was half asleep. Beside me, I could sense Nishino propped up on his elbow, looking at my sleeping face. I rolled over. Nishino kept his gaze focused on my profile.
He’s probably crazy.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, they seemed to have an aura of certainty. Of course, everyone has a touch of madness in them. In fact, there’s something frightening about a person who isn’t a little crazy. But no matter how you looked at it, Nishino was definitely a deviant.
“Wasn’t I the one who said that, a while back?” Nishino laughed as he spoke.
I picked up the thick chain that was attached to the shackle around one of my ankles, and it made a rattling sound.
So you don’t run away, Ai, Nishino had said when he put the shackle on me at the end of autumn. Of course, the key was in the top drawer of a bureau that was within reach of the chain.
You can take it off any time you want to. That was how Nishino had explained it.
Why would you do such a thing? I had asked. Nishino had lowered his gaze.
Maybe to appall myself, he had replied simply after a brief pause.
As a result, I was now spending the majority of my time at Nishino’s apartment. I read books or studied there. I listened to the radio or talked on the phone to Kikumi. It would have been easy to unchain myself, but for some reason I didn’t feel the need to do so. I had the feeling that, the moment I were to take off the chain, Nishino was likely to start doing really eccentric things. As long as we both behaved collaboratively, it would be our little secret. But if one of us let it be known, then it would simply seem crazy.
The Ten Loves of Nishino Page 13