“Ah, cute name. It does suit you better. If I’d known you were going to be this gorgeous, I would’ve held on to you back then.”
“You cheated on me, remember?”
He laughed as if what she’d said was funny. “What about now? Shall we give it another try?”
She glared at him, but instead of moving away, he came closer.
Even back then, Fumi had known going out with him was a bad idea. But she was always alone, and she had been so thrilled at the prospect of having someone special to spend time with.
“I heard you’re working at a bar now,” he said. “Can I come visit?”
Well, news traveled fast. Calming herself, she leaned to him and whispered, “Of course you can. But as a former acquaintance, I have to warn you, it’s expensive. Are you sure you’re ready to spend that kind of money?”
He snickered, but finally walked away. She sighed in relief. That guy had always been too aggressive, and she’d actually been glad he’d dumped her for a freshman.
Fumi turned to her original target. The woman was now heading toward her.
“By any chance, are you Yanagi?” she asked in a small voice.
Fumi flashed her sweetest smile. “Yes, I am.”
The woman’s face went pale. “Do you . . . remember me?”
“Of course. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t forget.” Fumi hadn’t been aiming for sarcasm, but her voice came out sharp and full of hatred.
“I . . .” The woman fumbled and looked down.
Not wanting to back down, Fumi leaned forward. “Yes?”
Before she realized what was happening, the woman lowered her head to Fumi. “I know it’s too late, and this probably won’t be any consolation to you, but I’ve always wanted to apologize.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so, so sorry for what I did. I deeply regret it.”
Fumi was taken aback, but she forced herself to maintain composure. She rested her hand on her neck. “Stop that,” she whispered. “Everyone is staring at us.”
The woman continued to bow. “I’m so sorry, Yanagi. I’ve never forgotten what I did. I was so horrible to you. I know my apologies aren’t enough, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Initially, Fumi had wanted to shame her. But seeing the woman’s remorse, she wasn’t sure what to say or do. She had only been ready for a fight.
“I’m so sorry. Will you forgive me, Yanagi?”
Crossing her arms, Fumi took a deep breath. “Look up and face me, will you?”
The woman did so.
“I always wondered, why me? You could’ve chosen anyone. Did I do something to offend you? I tried to recall a single interaction between us before what happened, but I couldn’t think of one.”
The woman’s face turned red. “It had nothing to do with you.”
Fumi frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Back then, I liked a boy,” she said, slightly stuttering. “He turned me down, calling me skinny and ugly, and saying even a boy like Yanagi was much prettier than me.”
She gasped. “What?”
“I know. It was unreasonable of me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, but I was hurt.”
“That was the reason?” Fumi couldn’t believe her ears. “What about the other girls?”
The woman shook her head. “They didn’t know anything. I only told them you got on my nerves, so they followed my lead.”
Fumi clenched her fists.
“I’m so sorry, Yanagi. We were young. We didn’t know better. Each of us kept trying to outdo the others, and in the process, we went overboard.”
Went overboard? It had been so much more than that. They had made Fumi’s life a living hell. They had made her fear school. And above all, they had made her hate herself, all because of a single thoughtless remark from a boy. Fumi shuddered, finding it hard to grasp that months of bullying had stemmed from something so petty.
Fumi ran her manicured fingers through her long, permed hair. “I hope you’re not expecting me to say that everything is okay, that we’re all friends now.”
The woman froze. Her face was pale. Fumi turned and walked away. She didn’t want to stay there another second. She felt sick.
Don’t you cry, she told herself as she climbed into a taxi in front of the hotel. Don’t cry because of her. She isn’t worth your tears.
Eiji lay in his usual spot on the sofa. He stood up and greeted Fumi with a warm smile.
“You’re home early,” he said.
She took her high heels off. The straps had dug into her skin, leaving raw red lines. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I left early.”
He furrowed his brow. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I want to be left alone for a while.”
Once she was inside her room, Fumi dropped her handbag on the floor and threw herself on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, she replayed what the woman had said. It had nothing to do with you. A boy turned me down and said I was skinny and ugly, that even a boy like Yanagi looked much prettier than me.
Had that really been the only reason for her suffering?
Flashes of that day flew into her mind. Fumi could still recall every detail of the first time that girl had come to Fumio’s seat during recess, her five friends tailing behind her. She banged on his desk.
“Fumio Yanagi?” she asked, louder than necessary.
“Yes,” he answered timidly.
“Follow us.”
Fumio was scared, but he tried not to show it. “What did I—”
He felt a hard slap on his left cheek and fell off his chair. There were audible gasps. All of his classmates stared at him lying on the floor.
“Do you have any more questions?” the girl asked.
Still shocked, Fumio didn’t react.
Another girl kicked him in the stomach. “Answer when you’re asked.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, no.”
The first girl clicked her tongue and walked out.
“Come with us while we’re still being nice,” one of the girls said. “Unless you want us to beat you up in front of everyone.”
The group walked out and Fumio Yanagi followed, his classmates whispering all the while. Even with his head hung low, he could feel their looks of pity. On the way to the rooftop, Fumio knew the girls were going to beat him up. But he didn’t know they were going to do it over and over until he broke.
Clenching her teeth, Fumi struggled to suppress her tears. She still couldn’t believe it, that all that suffering had been for one stupid offhand remark. Fumio had probably never even spoken to that boy. But because of those words, she was a different person.
Fumi took a deep breath. She had promised herself never to show weakness.
But it had been Fumio’s fault too. If he had stood up to the girls earlier or told his teacher or his parents, the bullying might not have lasted so long.
“Fumi-nee, are you all right?” Eiji asked from the other side of the door.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Leave me alone.”
There was a brief silence. “How can you say you’re fine when you’re crying?”
Fumi realized her face was wet. Wiping away her tears, she hoped she had used waterproof mascara. “Go away, Eiji.”
“What if I don’t?”
She kept quiet, noticing for the first time that the white pendant lampshade on the ceiling had gone yellow.
“Please let me in,” Eiji said.
“Why do you need me to open the door?” Fumi asked. “You can just pass through it, can’t you?”
There was a pause. “Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.”
Standing up, Fumi checked her reflection in the mirror over her dressing table. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were bloodshot, but her makeup was somehow intact. She rea
ched for the doorknob and thought about what Eiji had just said.
Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should. Fumi had been the victim back then, and she knew she wasn’t supposed to blame herself, but she did. Every single day. She had suffered enough.
“Fumi-nee?”
She opened the door. “I’m fine.”
“Is that so?” Eiji looked at her with concern. “You don’t look fine.”
“That’s none of your business.”
He gave a chuckle.
“I don’t know why you’re such a busybody.” Fumi crossed her arms. “No matter how nice you are, you still have to leave when my brother returns. You know that, right?”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Yes, I know.”
Fumi raised an eyebrow at Eiji, who had agreed far too readily.
“I don’t want to be here when your brother comes back,” he continued. “You don’t need to worry.”
She grew suspicious. “Do you happen to know Ryu?”
“Ah, I wonder if I did.” He spaced out for a moment before returning his gaze to her. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
She shook her head. “Not really.”
“Then why did you let me in?”
“You asked me to open the door, didn’t you?”
Eiji broke into a smile. “Fumi-nee, you’re not the type of woman to do something because someone asks.”
She smiled too, and soon she was laughing. It infected them both, even though there was nothing particularly funny about what he’d said. Fumi laughed until her stomach hurt. She laughed and laughed until she got sick of it. Then, sitting down on the bed, she curled up and sobbed.
Eiji waited for her to calm down. When she finally did, he asked, “How do you feel?”
“Much better,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Thanks for being here with me.”
“This is one of the few things I can do for you before my time runs out.”
She nodded and raised her face to look at him. “You know, I’ve been wondering, why did you choose to stay here? I’m not the most hospitable person in the world.”
“At least you’re aware of it.” Eiji flashed a dimpled smile. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I? You’re the only person who can see me.”
“There should be others. You might find them if you wandered around more, but it’s not so simple. It’s not like you can tell at a glance whether a person can see spirits. And anyone like me would probably ignore you once they figured it out. It’s easier that way. Wandering spirits often attempt to get the living to assist them, but we’re not supposed to interact. We belong in different planes of existence.”
“Then why are you talking to me?”
Fumi rubbed her neck. “I’m not sure. But I figure there must be a good reason you showed up at the studio. You must have some regret that ties you to this world, and maybe whatever holding you back is related to me or Kenji.”
“You’re playing detective again, Fumi-nee.”
She ignored him and continued. “We can probably rule out Kenji, since you don’t even know what he looks like. So the one you’re looking for must be me.” Fumi paused. “Or my brother.”
Eiji averted his eyes.
“It’s my brother, isn’t it? How do you know Ryu?”
“What is this, an interrogation?”
Fumi closed her eyes, recalling the first time she had met Eiji in the studio. He was alone, armed only with a giant rucksack, crouching down near Tama as the cat circled him. Wait, how could she have missed it? Tama had never been good with strangers. The only people she’d ever gotten along with were Fumi, Ryu, and Miwako. But Miwako was dead.
No, that couldn’t be it. There had to be another explanation.
Yet the more Fumi thought about it, the more she understood it was the most likely answer. Clearing her throat, she turned to Eiji.
“So, who are you pretending to be right now, Miwako Sumida?”
25
Crush . . .
Or
the
Taste
of
It
Eiji smiled, albeit insincerely. “What do you mean, Fumi-nee?”
“Stop it,” Fumi said. “You’re Miwako, aren’t you? I have no idea why you’ve chosen to take on somebody else’s appearance.”
“It’s over, isn’t it?” Eiji looked down. Slowly, his features seemed to melt away, and the contours of his body changed. When he finally lifted his head, it was Miwako who was staring at Fumi. “I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning.”
Fumi sighed. “But really, whose appearance was that?”
“My older brother,” she said. “I was thinking about him when I heard you calling for Tama.”
“He doesn’t look like you.”
“We weren’t blood-related. My mother remarried when I was in high school. He’s my stepbrother.”
“I see,” Fumi said. “Was Eiji his real name?”
“Yes. Eiji Sumida.”
“And he died in a motorcycle accident?”
Miwako’s expression darkened. “It’s not an accident if it’s on purpose.”
“Your stepbrother committed suicide?”
“Yes.”
“What drove him to do that?” Fumi asked.
Miwako didn’t respond.
“What happened, Miwako?”
She remained quiet.
“At least tell me why you’re here. Why did you pretend to be someone else to get close to me?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I was confused.”
“Why don’t you tell me everything? You know I’d never judge you.”
Miwako shook her head. “I know, but . . .”
Fumi sighed and wrapped her arms around Miwako’s shoulders, forgetting she couldn’t touch her. Her arms simply passed through the girl. Why had she done that? How stupid. Looking at Miwako, Fumi knew something bad had happened to her—enough to drive her to end her life.
She wondered where Ryu was, and what he would tell her to do.
Miwako lowered her head and started shaking. She didn’t make a sound, but Fumi could tell she was crying. Those tears were the kind that tore you apart. Fumi took a deep breath. Her chest ached. She could feel sadness bubbling deep inside her, filling her whole body, threatening to spill out. For the first time, she glimpsed what was beneath Miwako’s hardened façade. Beyond her stubbornness and seemingly nonchalant attitude, the girl was hiding a terrible secret, not unlike herself. Fumi suffered in silence, and that silence did her no good. It hadn’t done Miwako any good either.
“I was bullied in high school,” Fumi eventually said.
Miwako raised her face.
“It was a group of girls,” she continued. She tried to control her voice, but it still came out like she was choking. “They would drag me to the school roof and beat me up almost every day.”
“Didn’t anyone help you?”
Fumi shook her head. “I was a shy, quiet kid who didn’t fit in. I didn’t have any friends. My classmates thought I was strange. When those girls picked on me, no one in my class said a word. They didn’t want to get into trouble. They acted as if nothing was happening. And for a while, I pretended those bad things weren’t happening too. It’s easier to tell yourself that everything is all right.” She took a deep breath. “But it hurt. A lot.”
Miwako furrowed her brow.
“I never told anyone about it. If I had, perhaps someone could’ve helped me.”
“Did the bullying eventually end?”
“Yes.”
Miwako looked up. “What made it stop?”
“I hit back.” Fumi forced a smile. “One day, I just snapped. In a rage, I managed to overpower them. It really freaked them out.” She chuckled. “You should’ve s
een their faces. It was like they’d seen a ghost. It felt so good.”
Miwako laughed, and Fumi found herself laughing too. Fumio Yanagi would never have thought it would be possible to joke about the incident, but Fumi was glad she finally could.
“You saw those girls at the reunion, didn’t you?” Miwako asked.
“Smart girl,” Fumi said. “Yes, I met their ringleader—the one who started all of it. She apologized to me.”
Miwako tilted her head. “Can you forgive her?”
Fumi shrugged. “I had my revenge that afternoon. In a way, I think I’ve already made peace with them, even though I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that.”
“That’s really generous of you,” Miwako mumbled. “But have you forgiven yourself?”
“I’m trying to.”
“Do you feel better now?”
“I do, especially after sharing this with you.”
Miwako nodded and looked like she was about to cry again.
Fumi turned to her. “I know you’re hurting,” she said. “You don’t need to keep it all inside. I want to share your burden.”
She waited for Miwako to speak. The girl was quiet for a long time.
“I fell in love with a man I shouldn’t have,” Miwako eventually said. “He was my stepfather.”
Miwako Kojima first learned of Mr. Sumida the spring she turned sixteen.
“There’s someone I’ve been seeing at work,” her mother said when the two of them were having dinner. “I’d like to introduce him to you.”
Miwako’s eyes widened.
“He’s a divorcee, and he has a son who’s in college,” her mother continued. “Mr. Sumida is very kind, and I’m sure you would like him. But if you’re against this, I’ll understand, and I won’t pursue it further.”
“That’s not it,” Miwako quickly said. “I’m just surprised.” Not once had her mother shown interest in another romantic relationship since her father’s death. “Of course I’d like to meet him. If you’re happy, I’m happy too.”
Her mother broke into a wide smile. Miwako hadn’t seen that expression on her since before her father had been diagnosed with cancer. It suddenly occurred to Miwako that her mother had changed recently. She was more cheerful. She carefully chose her clothes and accessories each morning. Even before meeting this man, Miwako had decided to support her mother in whatever decision she made. Even if it turned out that she hated this man, if he could make her mother happy, she would put up with him.
The Perfect World of Miwako Sumida Page 22