Last Stop Tokyo

by James Buckler

  Naoko didn’t meet her eye.

  ‘It is you. I’d recognize you anywhere. It’s been such a long time.’

  Naoko took the paper from her mouth. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You must have me mistaken for someone else.’

  The woman was in her fifties, wearing a loudly patterned dress that was too tight and heavy chandelier earrings. Her lips and teeth were stained purple with wine.

  ‘I’m sure it’s you. Don’t you remember me? Hisako Ota? You were one of the best who ever worked for me.’

  The woman’s voice was loud and indiscreet. There was no way to quieten her down without being complicit, so Naoko stood her ground.

  ‘My name is Naoko Yamamoto,’ she said frostily. ‘I don’t have any idea who you are.’

  ‘But I know who you are. I still have enquiries for you even now.’

  Naoko made sure her words were firm and certain. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said.

  The smile dropped from the woman’s lips. ‘Oh, I see. You’re too good now, are you?’

  She looked like she was going to argue further but Naoko faced her down. Finally, she turned in disgust and walked into a bathroom stall and closed the door. Megumi came out of the next cubicle, her expression revealing nothing. Naoko knew she had heard it all.

  ‘Who was that?’ Megumi asked.

  Naoko shook her head blankly. ‘I have no idea,’ she said.

  It was past 1 a.m. when they left the restaurant. The streets were lit in a deep cobalt glare from the electronic hoardings high above. The light had an eerie quality that cast no shadows, bright enough to beat back the night. They waited for taxis and Naoko insisted the others take the first one. She stood with Alex as it pulled away. He could feel her tense and rattled beside him.

  ‘Are you working tomorrow?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. I have to start early.’

  ‘Then I’ll take you home.’ He looked for a taxi among the traffic.

  ‘Not tonight, Alex,’ she said. ‘I feel like being on my own, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘You didn’t have a good time tonight?’

  ‘I’m just tired. Sometimes it’s exhausting being with Megumi.’

  ‘I thought you two were friends?’

  Naoko’s eyes flashed with annoyance. ‘We are,’ she said.

  Alex took the bag from his pocket and held it in a cupped hand. ‘Have you seen what Shinichi gave me?’

  He was expecting her to be amused, but Naoko’s face filled with anger when she realized what it contained.

  ‘Shinichi gave that to you? And you took it?’

  ‘He just threw it on the table. I didn’t buy it from him.’

  ‘That’s not the point. He’s going out with my assistant. Now he’ll tell Megumi that you take drugs, and then who knows who she’ll tell. Don’t you see?’

  She started to walk away but Alex grasped her by the arm to hold her back.

  ‘No. I don’t see. I didn’t ask him for it. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?’

  She pushed his hand away. ‘I don’t care what you do, Alex. Your choices are your own. But this is a serious matter in Japan. If you get caught you’ll be in big trouble and that will reflect badly on me. Shinichi has a rich father to bail him out but you’re alone here. I thought you were smarter than this, but it looks like I was wrong. From what I’ve heard about your past, you should have learned your lesson by now.’

  Alex felt his skin tighten as the blood left his face. ‘What have you heard about my past?’ he asked.

  Naoko stared into his eyes with a sneer of indignation. ‘I know why you’re here, even if you refuse to tell me yourself. There are other ways to find things out. I heard all about what happened to you. All about the drugs and the accident you caused.’

  He took a step towards her. ‘Who told you this?’

  ‘Who do you think?’

  ‘Hiro.’

  ‘He knows all about you screwing up your life. He’s concerned that I don’t let you do the same to mine. He knows I don’t need any more trauma in my life. I can’t stand it.’

  ‘Neither can I.’

  ‘I’m not sure this is working any more. Maybe we’re bad for each other.’

  ‘You don’t really believe that?’

  ‘How can I trust you when you won’t be open with me?’

  Alex reached out and took Naoko’s arm again. He turned her hand over so her palm was exposed. The half-healed wound was plain to see in the streetlight.

  ‘What about you, Naoko? Are you really being open with me?’

  She tried to close her hand but Alex pushed her fingers back and held them. A rush of heat seemed to come to her face and her eyes darkened with anger. She lashed out with her free arm and dragged her nails along the side of his neck, the skin tearing in deep gouges along their path.

  He quickly released her arm and held a protective hand to his neck.

  ‘Jesus, Naoko. Calm down. This is all getting out of hand.’

  She looked at the raw tracks on his neck and a brief flicker of shame came to her eyes. She quickly forced it away and replaced it with defiance. There was a taxi approaching and Naoko stepped out on to the street and waved it down. The driver stopped and opened the rear door for her.

  ‘I’m going home,’ she said. ‘I suggest you do the same.’

  She climbed in and the door closed. Alex watched as the taxi pulled away into the flow of traffic. He could see her through the rear window as the cab disappeared into the distance. She didn’t look back.

  There was sweat running down the length of his spine beneath his shirt, and Alex loosened his collar and tried to breathe. He stood for a while watching the world move around him, holding a hand to his neck to stem the bleeding. People on the street gave him a wide berth as they passed so he turned and started walking down towards the crossing, staring at the pavement ahead of him as he went.

  He wandered for a while, going nowhere in particular, heading down into the side streets where the air was cooler. When he began to tire, he looked up and saw the old temple, the gates open and the courtyard deserted. He stepped inside and walked along the gravel path and stood beneath the camphor tree. He found the branch where he had tied the omikuji and reached up and pulled them down. He untwisted both of the paper strips and looked at the inked blessings in the moonlight. He had no idea which was his and which Naoko’s so he tore them both into small pieces and stuffed the scraps into the pocket of his jacket. So much for her belief in superstition, he thought.

  It was calm and peaceful in the garden, the water in the pond gently lapping against the rocks. Alex walked to the pond’s edge and looked across at the waterfall, the bamboo pipe gently filling and emptying on the far side. He gathered himself up and jumped from rock to rock. The boulders were wet and he took his time, the carp swimming up slowly to examine the intruder above them, rolling over each other lazily and eyeing him in the faint light. Alex took the bag of grass from his pocket and sprinkled the contents over the water. At least the fish could have some fun.

  At the waterfall, he stood and listened to the water as it sluiced down, tipping the weighted bamboo pipe and pouring into the pond. It looked as if it had been there, rocking back and forth, for a thousand years. There was a wind chime hanging from the branches of an orange tree above him and it rang out in the breeze. He stood and watched for a while but soon he had to admit that Naoko was right. It was just a lot of rocks and water. None of it made any sense to him at all. The whole country seemed to be a puzzle that no one had the grace to explain. For the first time since he had arrived in Tokyo, Alex had no idea what he was actually doing there.

  7

  ALEX LET THE class leave early. The students hurried from the room, handing in their homework assignments as they left. It was the end of the week and even the most diligent ones had been watching the clock for the last ten minutes, eager to get out and start their weekends. They were undergraduates from the university taking
an English course to please their parents or gain extra credits from their tutors. Most of them were fluent already so it was an easy class to teach. All they were really interested in was the latest news of western film stars and sports teams. Once they had filed from the room, Alex closed the door behind them and stacked the papers on his desk and began marking.

  The Excelsior English School was in an office building on the main highway at the edge of Shinjuku. Alex’s classroom was on the tenth floor, with a window that overlooked a billboard advertising pay-day loans. The window shook in its frame when trucks switched gears on the slip road heading north. Classes were scheduled from 11 a.m. until 10 p.m., Monday to Friday, and a half-day on Saturdays. No one wanted to learn English on Sundays.

  His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket and he reached for it, hoping it was Naoko. It had been a week since they had gone out to dinner with Megumi and he had heard nothing from her. He knew that this was the night of the private view at the gallery, the big event she had been concentrating on for weeks now, so the odds she would call today were slim. But he clicked on the screen, full of hope, anyway. He gave a rueful smile when he saw Hiro’s name appear.

  What are you doing tonight, gaijin? Come and meet me for a drink.

  He tapped out a reply.

  Not tonight. I have to work late.

  There was a desk covered with marking to catch up on. Alex knew he had been neglecting his work since he had argued with Naoko. It had been a week of uncountable nouns and past participles, the classes merging seamlessly with one another. Alex knew he was distracted and his lack of enthusiasm was starting to show. The worst choice he could make now was to be dragged into one of Hiro’s late-night adventures.

  He wasn’t surprised when Hiro messaged him back quickly.

  I haven’t seen you for weeks. Just one drink. I’m paying.

  For a moment, he considered giving in and agreeing to meet. Naoko knew he was alone in Tokyo but she still hadn’t bothered to call. He had tried to kid himself he didn’t care but, deep down, he was still holding out hope. He knew it would look thoughtless to be with Hiro when she called.

  He sent his final reply.

  Another time, Hiro. Take care.

  He put his phone away and continued with his marking. Through the walls, he could hear the other teachers stack chairs and switch off lights as they rushed to finish for the week. Alex took his time. At least work was a good way to keep his mind occupied.

  There was a knock and the door opened before Alex could give his permission. Craig Wyndham strolled into the room, wearing a chalk-striped suit and a silver tie clip. Everything about him screamed that he’d been in Tokyo too long. He was the longest-serving teacher at the school and the owner had decided this meant he should be their supervisor. The responsibility had gone straight to his head.

  ‘How was your week, Malloy? I saw you were running late again this morning. Anything I can help you with?’

  His assistance was offered in the most loaded way possible. Alex knew showing weakness was not going to result in sympathy. It was what Craig had been wishing for for months now. He had always been uneasy around Alex. They were a similar age, older than the other teachers, and Craig seemed to view him as a threat.

  ‘Thank you, but everything’s fine,’ he said. ‘I was just feeling a little under the weather today, that’s all.’

  ‘Not too many late nights, I hope. We’re paid to keep our minds on our work, after all.’

  ‘I’m down with the sunset and up with the dawn, Craig. You know me.’

  Craig sat at the table at the front of the classroom and leaned on his elbows, tapping his fingers together in a show of patient authority.

  ‘I thought I did, Malloy. I’ve always seen you as one of the most dependable members of my team. But lately, I’ve seen a change. A loss of focus, shall we say?’

  ‘I’ve had one bad week. Doesn’t my track record count for anything?’

  Craig looked at him with a smug expression fixed on his waxy face. He adjusted one of his monogrammed cufflinks. ‘We’re each only as good as our last lesson.’

  Alex struggled to contain himself. He knew that staying silent was the wisest course of action but his contempt felt too poisonous to hold inside.

  ‘Let’s be honest. You don’t like me, Craig,’ he said. ‘You never have. And I don’t like you either. We come from the same place so I know all about stuffed shirts like you. But who the hell else do you have around here to carry any weight? You’d be lost without me, and you know it.’

  ‘Don’t get cocky, Malloy. Everyone is replaceable. You know that.’

  Alex stood up. ‘If you could live without me, Craig, I’d already be gone. So unless there’s anything else, I think I’m done here …?’

  Craig Wyndham stared mutely from the classroom chair. Alex picked up his bag and pulled on his raincoat. He was waiting to see if Craig had any of the courage he pretended to possess in front of the younger teachers. He was sure that it was all an act and, as he opened his classroom door and stepped out into the hallway, he wasn’t proved wrong.

  His chest was tight with adrenaline when he left the building and walked out on to the street. The night-time city was beginning to come alive around him. It felt wrong to go home and be alone with his thoughts but Alex knew Naoko wouldn’t take his call. The exhibition at the gallery took precedence over everything. He was aware of that. But there was another way to release the stress.

  He took out his phone and tapped out a message.

  ‘You’ve got that smell on you,’ Hiro said.

  ‘What smell?’

  ‘Girl trouble. What happened? Did you fall for one of your students?’

  They met in a ramen shop next to Ikebukuro station. The place was a long narrow counter with ten seats facing the kitchen and noren flags over the door. The room was filled with steam and the rich smell of pork broth. Hiro dipped a gyoza into his noodle soup and soaked it before swallowing it in one bite.

  ‘Nothing like that,’ Alex said. ‘It was just some girl I met in a bar.’

  ‘What did she do? Steal your pay cheque?’

  He could sense Hiro feeling him out. It felt strange to have a conversation with such an old friend that skirted the truth so blatantly. He knew he would come clean about Naoko if he was just asked directly, but he wasn’t going to offer up the information as a gift. That would just give Hiro a false sense of superiority and he was in no need of any boost in that respect.

  ‘Trust me. My salary isn’t worth stealing. It was just an argument about nothing. You know how it happens.’

  Hiro pointed at him with his chopsticks. ‘I don’t know why you put yourself through all this grief, gaijin. Is it really worth it? Why come all this way to settle down?’

  ‘Well, it’s out of my hands now,’ Alex said.

  Hiro sucked up long strands of ramen from his bowl. ‘Luckily for you, I know just what you need.’

  Alex felt uneasy at the look in his friend’s eye. ‘Why can I hear alarm bells ringing?’ he asked.

  ‘Just relax,’ Hiro said with a smirk. ‘Wait until you see what I’ve got in mind for us tonight.’

  The bar was like a dark cocoon. It was decorated with black suede ceilings and crocodile banquettes, all washed in low amber lighting. Two girls were sitting on high stools at the bar drinking cocktails through straws. Both wore short dresses and knee-high boots.

  ‘This is Kyumi, and this is Yuko,’ Hiro said. ‘They’re occasionals.’

  ‘What’s an occasional?’ Alex asked.

  Hiro put his arm around Kyumi’s waist. ‘Ask them. They don’t bite. Well, the small one does a little.’

  Alex watched as Yuko took a hand mirror from her bag and checked her make-up. Her skin was deeply tanned and her hair was backcombed and peroxide blonde. She wore pale contact lenses and false eyelashes with beads of mascara at the ends. Her nails were long and pink and heavy with plastic jewels. When she held her glass she had to hold it with bo
th hands.

  ‘Do you like them?’ she asked. ‘I only had them done today.’ ‘Of course,’ Alex lied. ‘I like them very much.’

  She held her hands out proudly in the dim bar-room light. ‘Where are you from?’ she asked.

  ‘London.’

  ‘I’ve never visited. I’ve heard that everything looks old and the Underground is dirty.’

  Alex thought about it for a moment. ‘That’s what I like about the place,’ he said.

  Yuko told him she wanted to open her own beauty salon but she had no way to raise the money. She said it was fine because she wasn’t in any particular hurry. Her parents owned a bento shop in Shinagawa and worked so hard they were always ill. She was content to do nothing now, while she was young, she said. She was their only daughter so she was going to wait until her parents finally gave in and died. Then she would have all the money she needed.

  Their table was ready so they followed the waiter back through the bar to a private cubicle at the end. Both girls walked pigeon-toed, as if they were playing dress-up, their heels scraping along the ground. The waiter slid open the paper door and they left their shoes outside in a row. Hiro was laughing hard at his own jokes and the girls were calling him names and making shows of mock-offence. His hands were all over Kyumi, pulling her close to him, but she didn’t resist. Through the plate-glass windows, Alex could see trains running like clockwork toys in the distance, the lights shining haloes on the glass. Yuko sat close to him and placed a hand on his thigh. She had that Japanese quality of looking nineteen and thirty-nine at the same time.

  ‘So what’s an occasional?’ Alex asked.

  Yuko took her time to answer. Finally, she said, ‘It’s no big deal really. Tokyo is an expensive city and Tokyo girls have expensive tastes. We like the stores in Ginza and Shibuya and it’s difficult to afford to shop there so we find boyfriends to help.’

  Alex pointed across the table. ‘Like Hiro?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘And older men or married men who are sick of their wives. Men who can’t take their eyes off the young girls they see on the streets every day. We go on dates with them and laugh at their jokes and, in return, they buy us gifts.’ Her voice was flat and even, as if she were describing being a Sunday-school teacher.