by Ioana Lee
Ken was adamant.
“We’ll figure it out on our own. We don’t need anyone. No one has to find out what we’re going through.”
“Life was pulling us apart and I was the cause of his unhappiness and he of mine, and it was impossible to change either him or me.” This is how Anna Karenina might have faithfully described the situation that we were in. I don’t remember what and how long we argued, but I remember pulling the phone out of his hands and forcefully putting it back where it belonged. I told him that he was right, that we could solve our own problems as long as he acknowledges the fact that he’s never telling me how he feels. I told him that I understand his jealousy when it came to me going to work, and I that it’s obvious that he’s trying to create tension in the house so that I give up on my dreams, my future job and my photo shoot in just two days.
I also emphasized the fact that not only do I not love him anymore; I also hate him and feel disgusted by him and everything that has to do with him. I kicked him out of the room and locked the door. He knocked and tried to talk to me, asking me to calm down … I hated him with all my being because he had lied to me, he had disappointed me… because now when I needed him the most, he wasn’t supporting me and I strongly felt that he didn’t want me to succeed. The knocking stopped. I was extremely angry. I couldn’t calm down and I didn’t know what to do. After a short time he knocked again. I opened the door. He looked at me and told me that he loves me and that he won’t be able to live without me; that it’s better for him not to live anymore than to know that I didn’t love him. He said Sayonara! (Farewell.) With his head down, he walked towards the couch to lie down.
Hence, he was threatening to commit suicide—and this wasn’t the first time. He once did this in Romania, right in my parents’ house, and then in Japan, saying that he’d hang himself —even meticulously setting up a hanging place—or he’d slit his wrist. This wasn’t news to me, and not only did I not feel bad for him, I despised him more than ever for this emotional blackmail. He was supposed to take care of our relationship and me, like he promised, just like I had dedicated myself to him once we got married.
I looked at him disgusted and decided to ignore him. I was thinking, though without reason, that I should check on the sleeping pills. They weren’t there anymore.
“Ken!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nan no baka na koto shita no yo?”[xxxiv]
He was pale, shaking and his lips were completely dry.
“Hanashite yo!!! Watashi no kusuri wo monda no?”[xxxv]
“Ai shitte imasu. Sayonara”. [xxxvi]
I had to think clearly of what he had done and it had to happen fast. While his body was shaking physically I was shaking emotionally. I thought for a second of what I should do and the first thing that came to mind was to call uncle Kamakura, who was a psychiatrist.
His wife picked up and I asked her to put my uncle on the phone. I told him that I’m sure Ken swallowed sleeping pills. He advised me to call 911, assuring me that they would call the rest of the family to announce what had happened.
I hung up the phone and I realized that I didn’t know what to tell the 911 operator because I couldn’t remember our home address. I immediately called Mrs. O., who called 911 for me. I trembled like a leaf, but I knew I’d have to be strong, as I didn’t have the luxury of time in that moment. The ambulance arrived quickly. I opened the door and they carried Ken to the ambulance. His body was lying helplessly on the stretcher and he was unconscious. We all got into the ambulance and headed for the hospital. The world around me was spinning, my jaws clenched and I found myself unable say a word. Fortunately I had told Mrs. O what happened and what kind of pills Ken had taken. The paramedics in the ambulance kept telling him to be strong:
“Think of this young lady, think of how scared she must be. She is shaking uncontrollably and doesn’t even speak the language. You have to be strong. If we, men, are doing this, who will our women count on?”
“This is so sad… Do you think the girl is alright?” they were asking each other.
Through sign language they were trying to find out if I had swallowed any pills myself. I categorically nodded my head meaning NO. Mrs. O was berating Ken in Japanese. No one knew that I understood the language but I was unable to speak because of my clenched jaws.
“Miss, please say something, anything, in your own language…”
I nodded my head “No”, again… We arrived at the hospital. Uncle Koji was already there. The nurses immediately gave Ken intravenous treatment. I could see the dark liquid running through the tubes into his veins. I looked around like I was in a movie that I was frightened to watch, but for some reason was forced to. Uncle Koji and the driver came to me and asked what exactly happened. I told them that Ken and I had gotten into an argument and shortly afterwards he had swallowed the pills. While uncle Koji was asked to fill out some forms, I found myself alone, floating in uncertainty. I was interrupted by two police officers who came to me and asked: “What exactly happened? What doctor prescribed the pills? What for?” … And, of all things: “Were you the one who gave him the pills?” They showed me the empty pill bottle, taken from the house by the paramedics. They assured me that they would be thoroughly investigating this incident, starting with the fingerprints on the bottle and interviewing the doctor who prescribed them. This left me speechless. I desperately headed for the restroom, where I threw up multiple times. In my mind I was thinking that Ken was already dead and I’d go to prison for the rest of my life. I felt like crying and laughing at the same time, and in just a heartbeat life was meaningless…
When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask on my face. As one of the nurses was taking my pulse, I took the mask off my face and inhaled deeply.
I was afraid to talk or to be told anything.
“Stay calm please. You are feeling better now. You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to. Get some rest. Your husband feels much better now and wants to have you next to him. I think he is asleep in the emergency room. He asked me to tell you that he loves you enormously… ”
“Is this the way that Japanese show their love?” I asked myself.
Finally, I pulled myself together. I regained my calmness and strength and decided to go and see Ken. He was waiting for me, still connected to multiple intravenous tubes. Against my will, I made the effort to come close to the man who just a few hours ago had made me a leading candidate for prison. I didn’t know if the people around us were convinced that I was the one who forced him to take the pills or not, and there was no detective Poirot to investigate the case and set matters straight.
I smiled at him. He clasped my hands and with a subdued voice asked me if I still loved him. I had a fraction of a second to contemplate Shin Kurosawa’s teachings regarding the truth that can cause harm, or the untruth that causes good and therefore is not considered a lie.
“Yes Ken, I love you very much. I apologize for disrespecting you and hurting your feelings”.
“You won’t abandon me, will you?”
“Of course not. Please stay calm and try to get some rest.”
Both uncle Koji and the driver came to see Ken before leaving the hospital. We then left for uncle Koji’s house around 1am, leaving Ken to sleep in his hospital bed. I was incapable of moving, talking or thinking clearly; I had no backbone. At uncle Koji’s house, while he was trying to calm down his wife, the driver forced me to eat a pear, which he peeled, cut into small pieces and fed me. He washed my face and my hands and helped get me to my room. I fell asleep, wishing to never wake again.
After a few hours of sleep, my aunt came to wake me to go visit the hospital again. I couldn’t eat anything; I was hardly able to take a shower. Otoosan took the first morning flight to visit his son. The aunt from Kamakura and other family members came to the hospital as well. Ken was still under treatment but seemed to be in higher spirits. The men in the family were all upset and disappointed by his actions. Otoosan berated him with
a few carefully chosen words about the dignity and the education in their family, and that his behavior was intolerable and was a disgrace to the family name.
I asked Otoosan to come outside for a while so that I could tell him something. We went out of the hospital, and found a bright sunny day, unlike the shadows in our souls.
“Otoosan it was my entire fault. I yelled at him, I treated him badly and I sincerely regret all this. I hope that one day you’ll be able to forgive me. I know that I’ll regret for the rest of my life that I created so much sadness for Ken and the entire family.”
Otoosan was trying to calm me down, but I wasn’t finished with what I had to say.
“Otoosan as you may know tomorrow is a very important day for me and my career. But now, tomorrow will be a totally different day”.
“What do you mean?”
“Tomorrow I’ll be on my way to Romania, because Ken and I are getting divorced.”
“Ioana, no! Wait… please…”
“I’m afraid there is no turning back. How am I supposed to feel now, going home with a man who didn’t think for a moment about the consequences of his actions, not only regarding me, but also all the people who loved him dearly? I don’t have the strength to be with a man who, instead of supporting me and being strong for me, is instead too delicate, fragile and worst of all, irresponsible?”
“Otoosan, I can’t even look him in the eye. He ruined too many of my dreams. I know that I’m not perfect either, but at least I tried. What happened yesterday won’t be something that will ever be forgotten. If he wasn’t alive right now, where would we all be?”
Otoosan talked to me humbly, imploring me to forgive and understand him, to be patient. He said that perhaps time would be our ally and would bring back the lost feelings.
Uncle Koji joined us too, and at both of their requests we all came to an agreement: first of all, we’d try to postpone tomorrow’s interview, although the chances of doing this were weak. Meanwhile, at least for a period of time, we’d all live in uncle Coji’s house, including Otoosan, with the understanding that Ken and I would live separately. We’d eat in separate rooms and at different restaurants, we’d go out using separate cars, and no one would ever force me to talk to Ken or to see him. I would do so when I felt prepared and ready.
I can’t imagine when, how, where and who explained this arrangement to Ken, but he accepted it with dignity. He always behaved with dignity in front of the Japanese, especially in the presence of other men.
This is how we spent the next two weeks. The first two days I refused to see and talk to anyone. The family would leave me food in front of the door to my room, just as if I was a prisoner. I was lying in bed thinking for many hours in a row what to do with my life and if I should tell my parents about this or not. After two days Otoosan wanted to see me; I asked him to leave. He asked to see me twice more that day.
“I don’t want to talk to you nor force you to speak; I just want to massage your feet to help you calm down. In the last few days you’ve accumulated so much tension, that now all your energy points are stuck.”
Japanese people are usually well versed when it comes to massage, and each family member massages the other. On top of this, each beauty salon or work place offers this service, where you can get head, neck and shoulder massage.
Otoosan gave me shiatsu foot massage for four hours. In all this time we didn’t say a word to each other. I felt much better after it.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I thank you,” he replied.
I noticed his hesitance…
“I would like to invite you for dinner tonight… along with uncle Koji.”
I loved them both so dearly and I thanked God for blessing me with three fathers, when many didn’t even feel the warmth of one. As time went by I became more communicative. Once in a while I saw Ken at a distance, but only after two weeks was I able to look him in the eye; I didn’t want to talk to him. We had nothing to say to each other. Lastly, Otoosan had to leave because he had commitments to attend to and he had already spent a long time with us. But uncle Koji and his wife brewed a new plan for everyone: to travel the country for one week and along the way, stop at different thermal springs. It was a wonderful week, with beautiful scenery and special people that we met at Ryokans (traditional Japanese hotels built on the edge of the springs). We all enjoyed the comfort, cheerfulness, the good jokes, Japanese dancing lessons, karaoke and many other wonderful things during our journey.
I was afraid of our return to Tokyo, even though Ken and I were talking and having fun with each other. My heart knew that things would never be the same again. We returned to Tokyo and Ken and I continued our lives more relaxed and refreshed. After just a few days I had to go to the interview and photo shoot, which were successfully rescheduled. Ken seemed to be genuinely happy, trying to make himself useful. I was worried about him, of his reactions, of the fact that he was very unpredictable, even more unpredictable than I was, which was hard to imagine. Fear and love can’t both live in one’s soul, at least not when it concerns the same person.
Impossible love
After lunch Otoosan had something to do at the Museum. Ken and I had to go and spend some time with the ancestors, which was our way of showing them respect. I couldn’t stop but wonder if the ancestors wanted to see and talk to me again after all the things that had happened. I was still a part of the Kurosawa family and we all had to respect one another. Out of all the ancestors my favorite was Shin-san.
After we paid our respects to those who were with us in spirit only, we sat on a bench in the Museum’s park. We looked for a bench that was well hidden in the back, where the trees and silence would be our only company.
“So… is this the end?” Ken asked me whispering, without looking at me.
“I’m afraid so…Love is indeed a sad thing, isn’t it?”
“While I hate what love does to me, I can’t live without it,” I answered.
“Then, why do you throw it away? Why do you refuse to live it?”
If love is death
I’d rather live dying,
Going from one death to another
Over a thousand times.
Miss Kasa
“Ken, love has nothing to do with us. We don’t love each other anymore. We simply regret that we’ve lost our love.”
“No Ioana, this isn’t true. I love you! I’ve always loved you and will continue to do so even after my death. You love me too. You know that nothing and no one will ever come between us. And if we can’t be together then … he squeezed my hand hard we’ll die together. I won’t let you leave. I can’t continue without you. We have to commit suicide.”
Ken you don’t understand Shinjuu. It’s done when two people love each other so much that they’re both willing to take their lives. I don’t love you that way anymore. It’s hard for me… It’s hard to leave you, Sendai, Tokyo and Japan behind. It’s also hard to live in Romania again. I don’t know how to be happy or make those around me happy. I can’t be with you anymore. I don’t know exactly why and when our love vanished. I also know that the Kurosawa family must have heirs. We have to get divorced so that you can remarry and have children. I’ll go back to Romania… where I was born and raised but where I no longer belong. Most of my friends there are foreigners. When I’m sad or want to share my joy, I call a foreigner, not a Romanian. Everything that is common sense and polite here in Japan is exactly the opposite in Romania. I never thought that readjusting to my native culture could be so hard.”
“Stay here then.”
“No, I can’t stay here just because I’m not strong enough to readjust there. I’m very sensitive I know… yet behind my tears there’s a hidden ambition and determination. I don’t give up on anything that is worth fighting for and after I obtain it I usually leave. I always need something else… something else to achieve, conquer, fulfill, learn or live… Maybe even somebody else to love.”
“Do you love someone
else?”
“I always love… a foreign language, a beautiful painting, a writer, a lipstick color, elegant shoes, a bright mind… But no, I don’t love anyone in the sense that you are referring to.”
“Could you really love somebody else besides me?”
“They say that nothing and no one is irreplaceable. The only people that no one could ever replace are my parents and I don’t want to live a single day without honoring their presence. The rest of the things… like love… It’s all a big lie. I believe in falling in love multiple times. I don’t believe in absolute love for just one person for a lifetime… But again, I always change my mind.”
I laughed.
“It’s bad, isn’t it? To think differently based on the environment and language that you speak… How do you want to commit suicide?”
“Do you want to do it? You still love me Ioana! You can’t live with me or without me. That’s why it’s better to die together. Let’s jump in Sendai Lake. That place means so much to our love and us. Right after we met in Bucharest, I showed you pictures of the Lake and told you that I’d bring you to see it in person. You laughed in disbelief. You were so beautiful and innocent. You didn’t speak Japanese then.”