Remember that time you told me your plans for after graduation? Sometimes I imagine myself sitting in a large audience, watching you onstage, delivering a company speech as I beam with pride. Other times, I see us curled up on a sofa, reading with our legs entwined, Tama napping in between.
In my mind, the windows are always open, and the sky is bright and blue.
And we are happy.
This picture has blurred and faded in the past few months, no matter how desperately I try to recall it. Even my memories of us from the past are receding—you and me leaving Ikeda bookshop, purchases in hand. These have been replaced by something else.
I’m sorry for everything I could have done but didn’t.
I hope you don’t fault yourself for not knowing. It was I who deceived you.
“I’ve failed her,” Ryusei told Chie. “Despite coming all the way here, I can’t figure out what she was trying to tell me. Instead of getting closer to the truth, I’ve become more confused. I don’t even know if this letter was meant for me.”
Chie creased her brow. “Of course it was.”
“She was in love with someone else.”
“Ryusei.” Chie sighed. “You’re so dense. It was always you.”
“You don’t need to say that to make me feel better.”
“Why would I lie about something like that?”
He paused.
“Miwako was afraid,” she continued.
“Of what?” He shook his head. “Did she think I would hurt her?”
“She was afraid you would leave her as soon as you found out the truth.”
He looked right at her. “What do you mean?”
15
The
Kobayashi
Women’s
Clinic
Two days after Chie learned of Miwako’s pregnancy, they went together to Kuromachi by train. Even though there were plenty of women’s clinics in Tokyo that performed the procedure, Miwako chose to travel to another city, probably to ensure she wouldn’t come across an acquaintance.
For the entire train ride, Miwako clung tightly to the hem of her white cardigan. Whenever Chie asked if she was all right, she would simply nod.
“I’m okay,” Miwako had told Chie the other day in the bathroom by the basketball court. “I’ve made an appointment. Everything will be fine.”
“If that’s what you’ve decided, I’ll come with you.”
Miwako smiled. “I appreciate your offer, but really, I can handle this on my own.”
Chie shook her head. “I don’t want you going through this alone. Please, let me accompany you. It’s the least I can do as a friend.”
Yet, despite her earlier insistence, Chie wasn’t sure if her presence was actually making Miwako feel better. For one, she wasn’t sure what to say or do to comfort her. Her mind had gone blank.
A few hours passed before they arrived at the Kuromachi train station. Miwako told Chie they had to transfer to a bus. Chie remembered nodding silently at Miwako. No words seemed right at that time.
The bus ride was nauseating, following a long, winding road. Miwako kept sucking on mint candies and held a plastic bag in her hand in case she needed to throw up. That didn’t happen, but when they finally got off the bus, her face was completely drained of color. Seeing how ill Miwako looked, Chie was shaken.
“We need to cross the road,” Miwako said, brushing her hair behind her ear.
Chie mumbled in agreement and followed her. They had alighted in a quiet suburban neighborhood. The residential area consisted of small clusters of two-story houses. Unlike in Tokyo, the gaps between buildings were sizeable, each filled with either a garden lot or a parking space for one or two cars.
As the two of them walked, they could hear chatter coming from the houses. One had its radio turned up a little too loud. A nostalgic folk song traveled through the neighborhood, lamenting about love and fate.
Turning onto a smaller alley, Chie inhaled the thick fragrance of curry from one of the homes. She glanced over at Miwako, who had covered her nose with a tissue. Not wanting to make her feel worse, Chie pretended not to notice. Hopefully the clinic wasn’t too far ahead.
A postman on a red bicycle passed by. Miwako turned onto another alley. Toward the end stood a small clinic with a sign that read kobayashi women’s clinic. Chie pushed open the glass door, and a middle-aged nurse greeted them.
“Good morning,” she said. “How can I help you?”
“I’m Kojima,” Miwako said, passing her patient’s card to the nurse. “I have an appointment with Doctor Kobayashi at half past eleven.”
Not Sumida, Chie noted.
The nurse glanced at her appointment book. She looked up at Miwako and smiled. “Please take a seat, Miss Kojima. I need you to fill out some forms.”
Miwako and Chie sat on a white U-shaped sofa. The nurse passed Miwako a red clipboard with a few sheets of paper attached to it. Chie could easily guess their contents. Her basic information, a health questionnaire, and of course, the consent form.
Chie wondered who the father was and the circumstances of all this, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask Miwako. At least, not now. One thing was for sure: Miwako hadn’t wanted him here.
The poster on the wall showed the development of a fetus. One week, two weeks, three weeks . . . After nine weeks, a fetus was nearly an inch long and weighed a fraction of an ounce. It was about the size of a grape. Its heart was finished dividing into four chambers and its valves were starting to form. From the illustration, the fetus looked nothing like a human baby, though Chie recognized the shape of an ear and ten tiny fingers.
“Miss Kojima, have you finished filling out the forms?” the nurse asked.
Miwako nodded.
The nurse passed her a tiny plastic cup. It had been marked with the initials MK using a black marker.
“I need a urine sample. When you’re done, you can leave the cup in the tray in front of the bathroom. After that, please go to the second floor. Doctor Kobayashi will attend to you soon.” The nurse turned to Chie. “I’m sorry, but you can’t accompany her upstairs. The procedure will take about two to three hours. You may want to take a walk, but to be honest, there isn’t much to see in this neighborhood.”
“It’s all right,” Chie said. “I’ll wait here.”
“Thanks,” Miwako whispered.
She disappeared into the back room, and Chie was left alone in the waiting room with the nurse. Something about the clinic troubled her. Was it the glaring light strips, or maybe the sterile all-white interior? It could even be just her state of mind. Chie took a deep breath to compose herself. The least she could do for Miwako was remain calm.
The nurse went upstairs shortly after, leaving Chie alone. She regretted not bringing a book, but with recent events, it hadn’t even crossed her mind. Bored, she glanced at the stack of magazines on the coffee table. Every single one was a parenting magazine. She reached for the one on top.
The magazine was full of photographs of smiling young mothers and laughing toddlers with matching clothes. Most probably weren’t real-life parent-child pairs. Chie scanned the headlines: “Healthy Eating for Expectant Mothers,” “The Ultimate Guide to Surviving the First Year,” “Ten Things Every Smart Parent Needs to Have.” One article was about babies who had defied the odds, either because they’d been born too early or were sickly, yet managed to survive.
Chie closed the magazine and put it back on top of the pile. She should go outside and take a walk around the complex. There might not be anything to see, but getting some air was better than being cooped up here, thinking about Miwako and what she was going through at that moment.
But Chie’s legs felt heavy. She couldn’t bring herself to move. Crossing her arms, she sat still like a statue. Gradually, she lost track of time. She didn’t know how long she h
ad been sitting there when the nurse returned.
The procedure was over, but Miwako had to lie down for a while.
“Just to be sure there are no complications,” the nurse said with a reassuring smile.
She went back upstairs after that, and Chie was on her own again. A white clock was perched on top of the reception counter, its second hand seeming to tick a little too slowly, as though time moved differently in this small town.
Chie took a deep breath. When was the last time she’d sat for hours, waiting for someone? Perhaps never. At least, not that she could remember. She was usually the one who showed up late and made others wait.
“Chie?” Miwako’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
She stood up. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Sorry you had to wait so long.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
They left after the nurse gave Miwako some painkillers.
“You might develop a fever, and there might be a little bit of bleeding. Those are normal; there’s nothing to worry about,” the woman said. “But if there’s a lot of blood or the pain becomes unbearable, please call the clinic right away.”
And that was all. In three short hours, Miwako’s pregnancy was terminated.
Miwako and Chie took the bus back to Kuromachi station before boarding the train back to Tokyo. After leaving the clinic, neither of them uttered a word. They sat in silence, each drowning in her thoughts.
That chapter in Miwako’s life had always felt distant to Chie. As if it didn’t belong there, or it had never happened. But Chie knew it was all true. Miwako Sumida had been pregnant. And she’d chosen to end that pregnancy at a small women’s clinic in the quiet suburb of Kuromachi.
“Do you know who the father was?” Ryusei asked.
Chie shook her head. “She wouldn’t tell me. I do know he passed away shortly before Miwako left Tokyo.”
“She didn’t kill him, did she?”
“You know Miwako wasn’t capable of killing anyone,” Chie said. “Do you believe in karma?”
“Maybe.”
“Miwako told me he died in a bad traffic accident. His body was burned beyond recognition. It was probably his punishment.”
Chie knew they shouldn’t be speaking ill of a person who’d passed away, but she couldn’t accept Miwako’s suffering.
“He forced himself on her,” Chie said.
Ryusei looked at her. “Did she tell you that?”
“Not necessarily,” she mumbled. Chie couldn’t explain that she had inferred this from MK’s diary entries. “But we both knew she wouldn’t have hidden this otherwise.”
He nodded slowly. “I wonder why she didn’t go to the police. Was she trying to protect him?”
“Before his death, she told me she was planning to tell everyone the truth. I even asked her if there was anything I could do to help, but she told me that she had to handle it on her own terms.”
“When was this?”
“Two months before she left Tokyo,” Chie said. “Just a few weeks later, she called and told me on the phone that she had lost her will to fight. ‘It’s over,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing to be gained from speaking out now.’ I told her that wasn’t true, but she wouldn’t listen. It was during that last conversation that she told me he had died.”
“Do you think his death had to do with her suicide? Was it why she came here?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say much.” Chie sighed. “When I learned from her mother that she was in Kitsuyama, I wanted to come and see her, but she insisted she needed to be alone. Even now, I still think about it. If I had ignored her wishes, maybe she would still be here.”
“There’s no way to know that.”
Chie bit her lip, fighting back tears.
“What if we had come here and things had ended the same way?” Ryusei said. “Then we would be asking ourselves, ‘If we had just listened to her, would things have turned out better?’ A lot of different paths can lead to the same place.”
Closing her eyes, Chie pictured a garden maze. There were plenty of turns in it, but there was ultimately only one ending. One’s choices along the way were irrelevant.
Lightning flashed, followed by thunder in the distance. The wind blew harder, causing tree leaves to scrape against one another.
Ryusei furrowed his brow. “It’s going to rain. We need to go back.”
Before they could take another step, Chie felt heavy droplets of water on her arms.
“Let’s go,” he said. “We’ve got to hurry.”
Ryusei grabbed Chie’s hand, and they ran back to the village. In a matter of minutes, it was pouring. Despite the dense forest, both of them were wet. Bright flashes pierced the tiny gaps between the leaves. The echoing thunder sounded so near.
Chie stepped on a mossy trunk and fell to the cold, mushy ground.
“Are you all right?” Ryusei asked, pulling her up.
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
Another roll of thunder crashed down louder and clearer than the previous ones. She was about to keep running when she noticed Ryusei wasn’t moving. His expression had changed. He had the same look he’d had on the journey up when he’d insisted he’d heard a cat.
“What is it?” Chie asked nervously.
Instead of answering, he ran back into the forest.
“Where are you going? The village is that way!” Chie shouted, but Ryusei didn’t stop. Not wanting to abandon him and return alone, she chased after him.
Something is happening. And for some reason, Ryusei could sense it.
He stopped abruptly, and Chie saw another bright light.
No, not just a light. She held her breath. It was fire. The tree Miwako Sumida had hanged herself from was engulfed in flames.
Even though the white fabric had already been burnt to ashes, Chie recognized the tree. Ashen black roses were scattered at its foot. Despite the rain, the fire rose high in the dark forest.
This isn’t the time to stand here and stare. If we don’t put the fire out now, it will spread. The whole forest will be destroyed.
Chie turned to Ryusei, but he was in a daze. The intensity she had seen in his gaze earlier was gone. He was just staring at the burning tree now, eyes empty.
In the distance, a bell started ringing, reverberating through the rain. Someone shouted, “Fire! Fire!”
Chie heard approaching footsteps and loud noises. I should get away from the fire. But her fear paralyzed her. She stood before the tree, rooted in place again.
“What are you doing?” someone shouted, pulling Chie away to a safer spot.
The villagers arrived with big buckets of water. They doused the tree, but the fire continued to blaze. Ryusei stood still, unreactive, as people pushed him farther and farther from the tree.
Chie reached for his hand. “Ryusei, let’s go now. Please.”
He turned to face her, but he didn’t budge. Chie swallowed hard. He wasn’t himself. His body was there, but his mind was somewhere far away. She had no idea what to do. She felt like she was about to lose him.
Someone stepped in front of Chie and threw a bucket of water at Ryusei’s face.
Chie gasped.
“Get out of here,” Miss Sugi shouted at Ryusei. “You’re blocking the way!”
He finally snapped out of it and swiftly walked off. Chie wanted to go after him, but Miss Sugi stopped her.
“Let him be. He needs to cool down.”
“But—”
“It’s all right. Leave him by himself for now.”
Hesitant, Chie complied.
The tree was still burning despite the rain and the buckets of water being thrown onto it. Oddly, while the fire wouldn’t die down, it wasn’t spreading either. The tree continued to burn, the villagers’ efforts seemi
ng to have no effect at all.
The fire rose like a wild beast, ravaging life from the tree with its insatiable hunger. This scene of sheer destruction was one Chie would never forget.
What followed was a blur. A man passed Chie a large pail. She followed suit with the rest of the crowd, scooping water from the river and coming back to throw it onto the tree while the rain continued to pour. To and fro, countless times. No one stopped until dawn broke and the fire was finally put out.
By the time the sun came up, the rain had stopped. Everyone was drenched and covered in ash and mud. Despite this, the villagers were in high spirits. They laughed and patted one another’s backs, saying, “Good job, well done. You worked hard.” Seeing this, Chie felt an immense sense of satisfaction.
In the end, the only casualty was that one tree. What was left was a blackened, hollow monument. Chie thought the whole episode must be a message from Miwako. But what was she trying to say?
She inched closer and touched the burnt trunk. It was then that she noticed a shallow hole in the ground. The tin box containing Miwako’s letters was gone.
16
Arguing
About
Things
That Don’t
Really
Matter
Chie zipped up her bag and took a deep breath. Finally, it was time to leave.
She looked out the window. A group of villagers were on their way out to the fields with their tools. Among them were a few boys who attended the free classes at the clinic. Most would probably grow up to be farmers, never leaving this remote village.
Despite having only stayed in Kitsuyama for a week, Chie had grown fond of the simplicity of life in its small community. Waking up early, heading to the fields, returning home. These villagers were always greeted by the beautiful views of their mountains and valleys. Chie felt a little sad to leave. But she also knew that if she stayed here longer, she would tire of the monotony of daily life. And without any air-conditioning or heat, summer and winter were likely unbearable.
The Perfect World of Miwako Sumida Page 15