Kaitarō laughed. ‘Too easy, and I don’t think he’s going anywhere interesting.’
‘You choose then.’
‘That one. The woman in the brown coat.’
‘Do you ever talk to them? The people you follow?’
‘Sometimes,’ he replied. ‘Sometimes you need information; sometimes you just need to gauge what they’re like.’
‘And you can do that? In a couple of minutes.’
Kaitarō looked at her, still smiling.
‘First one to talk to her wins,’ Rina whispered, and she took off down the road after their target.
Kaitarō followed. He caught up with her just as she turned a corner, and she looked so gleeful, so happy that he had to stop himself from reaching for her.
‘Slow down, you’re getting too close.’
‘Go away. We’re not working as a team.’
‘You have to wait,’ he said quietly, ‘until she goes into a supermarket or a shop, engage her by the fruit.’
‘Or over cheesecake?’
Kaitarō looked over his shoulder up the street. ‘Something like that.’
Rina quickened her step, moving away from him, and Kaitarō returned his attention to her. He caught the scent of her hair once more and his jaw tightened. It maddened him that they were never truly alone, that he could not touch her in public, and with each new meeting that madness grew.
‘Let’s see how much we can pick up before she notices us,’ Rina whispered, her eyes meeting his with a slow enticing smile and so they followed, sometimes extremely close, giggling like children.
Towards the end of the road, as they entered the newly built-up part of Ginza with its shining department stores, Kaitarō became serious. The woman went into a couple of the designer shops but remained on the ground floor. He tapped Rina on the arm, moving around her so they could pretend to look at a selection of perfumes. They followed the woman out into the street, and Kaitarō picked up a free newspaper, slowing, as she decided which direction to go in next. He signalled to Rina, his movements deft. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to know he was good at his job.
‘I want to talk to her,’ she demanded, and Kaitarō slanted a glance at her.
‘We are not doing a ‘close follow’ today.’
‘I’ll do what I want!’ she threw at him over her shoulder and broke into a run, but she shrieked as he caught her and swung her into his arms, dragging them both into a small side alley. The woman they were following must have looked around in shock, but all that remained was the echo of their laughter and the flash of Rina’s coat as they disappeared together.
And then they were alone. They stood in the shadows, breathing rapidly. It was cool out of the sunlight and damp underfoot, but Kai didn’t care and he didn’t think Rina did either. Her eyes darkened as she looked up at him. He reached out and with just one finger caressed her cheek. Rina leaned towards him and he pulled her into his arms, his mouth opening over hers, filling his hands with her hair, with the touch and scent of her. She moaned into his kiss, and he moved his hands down, palms on either side of her face, shielding her. To an outsider, she could be anyone, any girl in the street, but to him she was Rina. He knew who she was and the delight of it was overwhelming. Kaitarō drew her closer, savouring this first taste of her, kissing her as though he might never stop, and for a while neither of them was aware of anything or anyone else beyond the alley. Eventually, he pulled himself away, although his breathing was still unsteady. Rina raised her eyes to his and a smile curved her lips as she leaned in once more, bringing their faces close.
‘Follow me,’ she whispered.
She walked away, not looking back. A few hundred metres down the street Rina stopped at a shop window to check the reflection. She couldn’t see him but she knew he was there. She looked at herself in the glass, at her smiling face. This was happiness, she thought; she remembered it well.
Rina walked into the shop and asked if they had a ladies’ room. Finding it and also a back exit she slipped outside and into another alley. Ginza was full of glittering thoroughfares and tiny twisting streets abounding with artisans and small restaurants. Her own favourite, Kyubey, was near here. She paused as people walked past her, swiftly making their way to the fish market and the eateries there. Couples strolled, tourists stopped. Rina took off her light summer coat and turned it inside out so that she was now dressed in black and the red outer fabric became the inner lining. She walked down the street, turning and turning again. She returned to the main thoroughfare and ducked into another shop. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a slip of his tan-coloured raincoat. Sloppy, she thought, smiling as she exited farther down, racing him to the end of the street, weaving in and out of the shoppers, heedless of their startled glances. She entered the Matsuya department store so fast that the white-gloved attendants barely had time to open the doors and went straight to the top floor, slowing and browsing through the racks of yukata there, stocked for stylish housewives and tourists looking for gifts. She crossed the floor and went up the staircase leading to the roof where she paused, looking out over Tokyo. Her breath caught as she smiled to herself and her hand drifted to the pearls at her neck.
She walked to the Shinto shrine in the centre of the rooftop and threw a coin between its wooden slats, bowing deeply and clapping her hands together twice. As the sound echoed in the air, she ran to the staircase on the opposite side of the roof, reversing her coat once more and disappearing down the stairs in a flash of red. She circled the third floor and then went up again to children’s toys before taking the lift to the basement. She entered it just as Kaitarō did, and he grinned at her from the opposite side of the room.
Delighted, disappointed, Rina laughed at him as he made his way towards her, moving around the shoppers and housewives stocking up for the week. They met in the centre of the food court.
‘It’s always the food,’ he said, smiling.
‘How did you find me? I was so fast and I changed my coat.’
‘That was brilliant,’ he said, ‘a stroke of genius.’ He looked around them and discreetly lifted her hand to his lips, pressing his mouth to the centre of her palm. ‘You almost lost me.’
‘Don’t be kind,’ she said.
‘I’m not. Really. There was a time on the roof when I had no idea where you would go.’
Rina smiled and then punched him in the shoulder. He laughed and she moved closer to him, as close as she could without touching; she could feel his breath against the sweep of her hair.
After a moment she stepped back, aware that people might be looking at them. She turned towards a cheesecake display where they had come to a halt. ‘Kai, look how beautiful they are. Shall we get one?’ She scanned the stylish array until her eyes homed in on what she wanted. ‘Look at that, banoffee chocolate . . .’
She was aware that he had gone still beside her, saw him glance behind them, but then when he returned his gaze to her face she felt her excitement ebb away as she realised they had nowhere to take the cake. She had to go home.
‘Rina, stay with me,’ Kai said. He moved to take her hand, his lips curving into a playful smile. It was as though he sensed her change in mood, felt her slipping away.
‘Let me come with you to Shimoda this summer.’
She looked into his eyes and shook her head, suddenly, painfully aware of Sumiko and all the lives she held in her hands.
‘We can still be together there,’ he persisted, but Rina frowned once more.
‘My family will be with me.’
‘Then meet me in Atami? Rina, look at me,’ he pleaded, but she would not.
‘I have to go home,’ she said softly. Then she walked away, leaving him standing there, alone before the cakes.
Kaitarō watched Rina leave, realising that he might never get used to this feeling – this fear of being without her. Out of the co
rner of his eye he saw a movement at the edge of the food hall, a satchel being adjusted. Kaitarō followed, going up the escalators and into the main lobby. He exited the store and walked for a couple of blocks, pausing on a street lined with telegraph poles. In the aftermath of a short rain shower, crows perched on the thin black power lines, scattering raindrops on the unwary and observing the people below.
Haru was at the end of the street in a brown leather jacket; he was still wearing the baseball cap he’d had on in the food court. He stood and waited as the traffic lights turned red. Kaitarō put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Kai.’
‘Hey.’ Gesturing for Haru’s satchel, Kaitarō took it from his hands and lifted the camera out of the bag, flipping it over.
‘Did you get what you wanted?’ he asked.
‘Yeah—’
Kaitarō nodded, unclipping the back of the camera and ejecting the finished roll within. Then, before Haru could stop him, he tugged on the film itself, pulling it out in reams between his fingers, exposing it to the light. For a second he paused, studying the lens of the camera before driving it into the wall at his side. Heedless of the shattered glass at his feet, he looked at Haru once more.
‘Don’t follow me again.’
The Scent of Oranges
When Rina awoke she was alone at Washikura in Shimoda. Yoshi had come in to say goodbye just before he took Sumi to Mount Fuji for their overnight trip. She remembered waving sleepily at him from under the covers as he bent to ruffle her hair. He must have opened the wooden shutters too for she could see that the sun was high in the sky, its light filtering down through the filmy summer curtains. She felt the breeze, cool on her skin, and just beyond the open window she could hear the sound of the sea.
Stretching, Rina slid down into the sun-warmed sheets. There was solitude that was unwanted and then there were moments when it was pure bliss. She had not been happy in her own company for some years, but as the summer drew to a close she was beginning to feel whole again, relaxed and at peace. Satō was in Tokyo, he had never liked Shimoda, and so alone in her family’s home, Rina knew that that day she could be herself, without fear of interruption.
She opened her eyes once more and saw the Canon EOS 3500 resting on the windowsill in its new leather case, her gift from Kaitarō. She thought of the photos they had taken together on the hillside above Atami, of the light filtering down to them through the leaves. She could smell the bittersweet scent of the orange as she split its thick skin, hear the rainfall battering the car as they sat within and talked; she could feel Kaitarō’s finger rough against her mouth as he told her he loved her. Slowly, she raised herself on an elbow and reached for her camera. She slipped it out of its case, enjoying the weight of it in her palm.
When the phone rang she was out of bed and downstairs in seconds, breathless by the time she lifted the receiver.
‘Hi.’
‘It’s me.’
‘I know,’ Rina said, smiling. ‘They’ve gone.’
They met at the bay. Tufts of dried seaweed rolled in the breeze as Rina made her way down to the beach, following the rocky path that led from her garden. She had bought a red broad-brimmed hat and she was wearing it with a matching bikini. Lowering herself to the ground, she sat with her back to the hillside and waited for the crunch of his footsteps on the sand.
‘You took your time.’
‘Not all of us have private access to the coast,’ he replied, settling down next to her.
Rina turned to look at him over her shoulder.
‘Hi,’ she said.
‘Hi.’
They were both grinning.
Together, they looked out over the sea. The beach was bright and clear; there were no bottles, junk food wrappers or plastic detritus, only branches of driftwood scattered at the edges, some of it white, ossified like bone. Were she alone, Rina would have tied it into bundles and carried it up to the wood burner in the house, but that day she wanted nothing more than to sit beside Kaitarō, their shoulders just touching, while before them the sun danced upon the waves.
Rina tilted her head towards him, savouring his nearness. She could smell the summer on him, warm skin beneath a cotton shirt. He turned to look at her and a smile curved his lips, but his eyes were solemn, intent. She knew suddenly that he was going to kiss her. With a smile of her own, she rose to her feet, discarding her hat on the sand, and ran towards the water.
‘Rina!’ Kaitarō shouted after her, laughing in frustration. He began to unbutton his shirt as she headed into the sea. There was a bank of shingle at the edge of the water, and Rina shrieked, sliding down into the waves as a small avalanche slipped away beneath her feet.
‘Rina, stop!’ Kaitarō shouted. ‘It will be cold!’
‘City boy,’ she called, turning to face him. The water was up to her waist and it had splashed the top of her bikini, darkening the fabric.
Kaitarō’s hand went to the top button of his jeans. Rina was still watching him on the beach, her smile openly taunting. ‘I’m coming in there,’ he called. But Rina just laughed. ‘I’d like to see that!’ she shouted, sinking into the clean blue of the bay and striking forward, the water of the Pacific encircling her.
Kaitarō watched her swim, admiring her sure, strong strokes. There were a few clouds overhead. The water was grey in the shadows and blue in the sun as Kaitarō anticipated the steep shelf beyond the shingle and shallow dived into the waves, following her. When his head broke through the surface, she was swimming away from him, drawing him into deep water, farther and farther out, until only a wisp of the summer’s warmth remained, but she didn’t flinch at the cold and neither did he. She clearly loved the sea, a woman who was comfortable with the currents and knew the tides. She drifted ahead of him, swimming slowly, underestimating the speed he was capable of. She jumped when he grabbed her ankle, and tried to swim away, but he held her fast, his hand travelling up her calf, her knee, to the top of her thigh. Hooking a finger into her bikini bottoms, he pulled her towards him. ‘I was born by the sea,’ he said as the water ebbed and flowed all around them. ‘This sea. We’ve been together all along.’
Rina was silent as the waves lapped at her shoulders, rising up her neck. She drifted with him, so close he could almost feel the smoothness of her body along his, her long pale limbs treading water in front of him. She licked a drop of salt from her bottom lip and closed the gap between them in the water. ‘Well, that explains it.’ Her gaze drifted to his lips reddened by the wind. ‘I don’t like city boys,’ she said, before curving her hand around his neck and kissing him full on the mouth.
Kaitarō shuddered and reached up to cup her face, sliding his fingers into her hair. His hands were rough as he pulled her to him. A trail of water ran down her neck and Kaitarō followed it, licking the salt, tasting her skin beneath the taste of the sea. His hands travelled lower and he lifted her, wrapping her legs around him. His breath grew ragged as she gripped him with her thighs, pressing herself against him.
‘You’re going to drown me,’ he gasped, holding them afloat in the waves.
‘Really?’ Rina smiled, her grin bright and challenging. ‘I thought you were born to this.’
Kaitarō flexed his hands at her waist and would have replied but in that moment Rina pushed down on his shoulders, propelling him away from her and shoving him with all her might beneath the waves.
When he resurfaced, choking on surprise and the sea, she was yards ahead of him, swimming away in a fast front crawl. For a moment he trod water, then he moved to follow, keeping his head above the waves so he could watch her as she reached the beach. Rina swam to the shingle bank and climbed from the water, crossing to his bag, which he’d left on the sand. There was a curve to her lips as she glanced back at him, and then she bent down, rifled through his things, and lifted out his shirt. She put it on over her wet bikini, adjusting the collar and doin
g up the buttons. Then, with a last look at him, she picked up her hat and made her way up the stairs towards her home, knowing he would follow.
The sky had darkened by the time Kaitarō dressed and climbed the stairs to the house. A storm was building on the horizon, turning the clouds the colour of mussel shells. Looking at them, he thought that within the hour they would tip forward and pour into the sea, engulfing the peninsula in rain and fog. He entered the house through a side door and crossed the small den. This room had to be Rina’s, for her books and magazines were strewn across the floor along with her flip-flops, beach gear, and a child’s small red bucket and spade. He walked farther into the house, into the living room, listening for her all the while. To his left he found the kitchen and then suddenly there she was, still in his shirt. The water from her bikini had seeped through the fabric, moulding it to her.
‘Stealing my things?’ he said.
‘What’s yours is mine.’
‘You’re lucky I think it’s damn sexy,’ he replied, and Rina laughed.
She left the kettle to boil on the hob and turned to the fridge to locate a foil packet of tea. Kaitarō leaned against the door-jamb and watched her, wondering at the grace of her, the ease of her in this domestic space, but he was unable to read her expression. Rina added two spoonfuls of tea to a small clay pot and as she did so her hair fell forward, obscuring her face. He watched as she poured boiling water into two cups, filling them to the brim and then adding these to the pot in turn, ensuring that the tea would be of equal strength for each cup and that there would be exactly enough for both of them.
When she turned to him he was still lounging in the doorway, and Kaitarō was gratified to see a blush rise to her cheeks. She swallowed and rested her hand on the counter next to the teapot. ‘I’ll leave it to steep while I light the wood burner,’ she said.
‘I can light it,’ Kaitarō replied, and Rina raised an eyebrow in question.
‘We had one at home,’ he said, stepping back from the doorway and allowing her to precede him into the living room. Together they knelt on the floor by the stove and Rina handed him the kindling and paper. From the basket by his side, Kaitarō selected a pair of small logs and a larger one, positioning each so they would burn to best effect. Then he lit a match and touched it to the twists of paper, watching as the flames stretched towards the wood, singeing and finally engulfing it.
What's Left of Me is Yours Page 11