“Gakino!” His mother and brother’s simultaneous call of surprise brought a small, very small smile to his mouth.
“Hey.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” His mother walked up to him, resting her hands on his arms.
Her hands were older than he remembered. He looked at the spots on the backs and worried over how many dishes she had washed and how many floors she’d scrubbed since the last time he’d seen her. How many meals had she cooked? Her hand smoothed down his cheek. Then she reached up on her tip toes, to ruffle his hair. How many times had those hands soothed away his fears as a child?
“I…just felt like coming home.”
“Don’t you have to work?” His brother popped up behind his mother. He’d grown taller, but not as tall as Gakino. He wondered if his brother would gain on him, or stay the way he was, leveled-out at eighteen.
“Nobu, go get the kitchen ready.” Noburu wouldn’t protest; their mother was the law.
While Nobu went to work behind them, with a clatter of pans, his mother never looked away from Gakino’s face. As always, she knew. “Why did you really come home?”
Gakino walked toward the stairs that led from the restaurant to the second floor-living area of his parent’s house. He eased down onto a step and settled his wrists on his drawn-up knees, staring at the wood grain on the steps.
“I crashed.” His usual optimism abandoned him, and his lips and cheeks twisted into a self-recriminating grin.
“Maybe it’s only time she needs, Gaki.”
“I think she doesn’t want to need anything.” He rubbed his mouth with one thumb, fighting the suffocating implosion inside him.
“We all need to eat. We all need to breathe…whether we want to or not. Life is need.” She patted her stomach against her apron. “Now, come help me in the kitchen.”
He followed her because he never questioned his mother. He worked throughout the day, but he wouldn’t remember the steps he took.
*
“Gaki?”
“Yeah?”
“What happened to that girl you were dating?”
At his brother’s words, Gakino sucked in air sharply, held it, and blew it out quickly. They were laying in the bedroom they’d shared ever since his little brother was born. With a fifteen-year age gap, he’d resented Nobu’s presence more than he’d enjoyed it. Tonight, was one of those nights.
“Go to sleep Nobu.”
“I thought she was pretty.”
“She is.”
“So why don’t you bring her home?”
“She won’t come.”
“Did you try promising her a treat?”
Gakino laughed, finally. “Nobu, she’s not a dog. I can’t train her.”
“Well, she trained you. Mom told me. You don’t move unless she tells you to.”
Gakino threw his pillow at his brother. His brother caught it and held it, triumphant. Nobu smiled, knowing Gakino would have to apologize or sleep on his arm.
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know I wouldn’t let a girl like that get away. I saw her in the paper. Read about her, too. She’s cute.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like that.”
“I know more than you do. You’re not supposed to give up. Girls like to be chased.”
“She does not want to be chased. Now, turn off the light.”
“You don’t want your pillow back?”
“Turn off the light. I’m tired.”
“Big brother, you’ve gotten pathetic. No wonder she won’t come.”
“Nobu…I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“Why not?”
“What’s there to talk about?”
“Everything?”
“Not anymore.”
*
“Gakino, what’s wrong with you today?” The director asked, after calling cut and halting the shoot for their music video. Then he held up a hand, halting the mad dash of the make-up and wardrobe people. “Answer me, Gakino.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like a zombie up there. You’ve been like that all morning. Something must be wrong. Are you sick?”
“I said I’m fine!” Gakino threw the plastic flowers he was holding and swept off the filming stage, the beads on his shirt jangling annoyingly with each stride. Once he left the filming stage, he felt pressure leave his chest a little. The coolness of the interior hallway clung to his damp skin. As the door to the studio closed behind him, he slammed his fists against the wall as he met it with his chest. Turning, Gakino slumped to the floor. The beads tinkled when they met the cement. He hung his head, hands clasped between his legs, his elbows caged in.
He would have to go back in there and explain. Or, at the very least, apologize. Gakino was not the prima donna idol. He was also not the moody type. He’d think of something when he went back. The door opened, but Gakino didn’t look up.
“Bad day?” Ryo asked in his straightforward way, settling on the floor against the opposite wall.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Ryo.” Talking about it would only make him relive everything.
“If you want to hit something, you should try Shun. He’s been whining about his new hairstyle for that drama. That perm would be better a little messed up.”
Gakino couldn’t help but laugh. It was short lived and he curled and uncurled his hands into fists.
“I’ll be back in a second. I just need to cool down for a minute.”
“Maybe you don’t need to cool down. It’s been almost two months. You should call her up and tell her exactly what you think. ”
“What good would that do?” He didn’t even question how Ryo knew this was about Eloise.
“Well, you might not break any more props.”
“I’m serious.”
“Me too.”
Gakino eyed Ryo. Ryo eyed him back and raised one eyebrow.
“She won’t talk to me.”
“Have you tried calling her again?”
“Every day. She never picks up. She doesn’t answer texts.”
“Why?”
“She says...I’m not normal enough. I’m too . . .” Gakino angrily grabbed at the beads. “...this. I’m too much of an Idol for her.” He laughed in disgust at himself. “Me. Everybody’s fool is too much of an Idol.”
“You’ll just have to find a way to make her see the truth.”
“Not likely.”
“You could always quit.”
“No, I told you. She says I would regret the sacrifice. Eloise won’t accept that.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Right now I just have to figure out a way to make all of this matter again,” he said pulling on his shirt.
“That’s easy. You have to buy me dinner tonight, right, senpai? Well, I’m hungry. Let's go make some money.”
*
“How long are you going to pretend to hate this guy?” Bethany asked.
It had been over 3 months since she’d last seen Gakino. Eloise buried herself in work, and her school days went by quickly. She was happy there. She laughed. Most days, she was so busy it was possible to forget about Tenshi and Gakino--at least for a an hour at a time. But when she went home, the quiet she’d once loved now seemed awkward, empty even. So she called her friends.
Sassy was good enough to pretend nothing had changed. She didn’t mention the months of silence that had come before. And she acted as though Gakino didn’t exist. Maia, too, stayed on safe topics, probably waiting for the perfect time to lay a mind bomb. That girl was all about personal growth, but sometimes in the style of gamma radiation. When they’d teased her about it in high school, she’d say sagely, I’m not your mom. I’m your guide. So no word yet about Gakino from either of them.
Only Bethany mentioned him. Which was probably why Eloise called her most.
“I’m not pretending to hate him.”
“Sure. Right. S
o that’s why you’re returning his phone calls and his e-mails.”
“Sarcasm. That’s helpful.”
“I’m sorry. But I mean it. Why aren’t you returning his calls?”
“I didn’t expect to hear this from you. Seriously. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side. That’s why I’m saying this. You sound so defeated. It you’re this unhappy without him, why aren’t you with him?”
“Because I’m an idiot, ok? Can we forget it? I just wanted to talk to you about stupid stuff,” she lied. “Let’s talk about anything besides him.”
“Eloise, he’s emailed me. Some of the guys from his band have emailed me, too. They are worried about you, but they are really worried about him.”
“What?”
“One of them, his name is Hiroya, sent me the most bizarre message. He must have used google or something to translate. But the basic idea was that Gakino had lost his ghost or something. I don’t think this is easy for him”
“How did they even get your email address?”
“Something about an email you sent to Gakino that was supposed to come to me...Does it matter?”
Eloise remembered. The list she’d sent out detailing what she liked about dating an idol. “Bethany, are you Gakino’s friend or mine? Look, I don’t want to be in the headlines, and I don’t want anyone—not my friends, not my family, not my boyfriend, not the media, not even myself—debating and discussing whether or not I deserve to be there or if I am doing the right things at the right time. I had over a decade of that with Anne and the Senator, and I refuse to do it again. I was like some little abandoned pet, desperate to jump through hoops for people who would never be pleased by anything I managed to do.”
“And you think Gakino’s like that?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not sure, but his managers are and the media would be, and, well, I would be. I felt like Barbie-zilla there.”
“But he loves you. They, I mean your parents; they didn’t, really, right? That doesn’t make a difference?”
“It does. It does. But it doesn’t make it better,” she yelled.
“Ok,” Bethany said softly.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper. I just . . .”
“It’s ok. This is hard for you. I understand. Don’t apologize. Really.”
“Bethany, does it make me the worst person in the world that I am trying to forget about him.”
“No, it makes you human. You know what they say...To err is human,” Bethany muttered, trying to make a small joke. Bethany always attempted gentle comedy when she didn’t know what to say.
Eloise gave a small pathetic laugh.
“What?”
“Do you know what Tenshi means in Japanese?”
“Tenshi?”
“Yeah, the name of Gakino’s band. It means angel. I don’t know that being human is good enough, Bethany. Do you think that I could get him to understand that? Do you think I could get him to forgive me?”
“Like, forgive you and take you back?”
“No. Do you think he’ll forgive me if I don’t ask him to take me back?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“That’s what you’re most worried about?”
“More than anything else.” Eloise lowered her voice to a whisper and picked at the cover on her bed. “Sometimes, I can’t sleep, thinking he’s out there somewhere basically hating me.”
“Is there any way you could find out? About how he feels, I mean.”
“I can’t call him.”
“The guy’s famous. Pick up a magazine. If he’s sad or whatever, they’ll report it, right? Tom Cruise can’t order a soda without us hearing about it.”
“That wouldn’t be weird? It’s a little too like stalking an ex for my comfort.”
“He’s famous. It’s not stalking. It’s harmless. I bet he’d feel better knowing you’re reading about him and not just some stranger.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“You could call him.”
“Maybe I’ll google him or something.”
“There you go.”
“Have you been talking to Maia? Did she tell you to call me?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“I should have known she was being too quiet.”
“We love you, Eloise. Lots of people do.”
“Bethany . . .” Eloise warned.
“Just think about it, Eloise.”
This is why Maia had told Bethany to call. Maia was too direct and would likely have said something along the lines of You think you’re so smart, but you don’t think straight about anything.
“Ok. Tell Maia I received the transmission.”
“She’s been worried that you’d mail him back his stuff or do a total freeze out before...well . . .”
“Before I came to my senses.”
“Well...yeah.”
“So, she’s given him final approval, now that it’s too late?”
“It’s not too late. It probably won’t ever be. He loves you, Eloise. So much. When I talked to him . . .”
“Bethany, are you crying?”
“A little.”
“You know I can’t take it when you get all sparkly and emotional. Dial it back, ok?”
“But this is about you.”
“Even more reason.”
“All right.”
“I have to go anyway. I love you, ok?”
“Can I say just one more thing?”
“Sure.”
“When he called, Eloise, he knew you’d be upset that he called.”
“He was right.”
“He told me to apologize for it when I spoke to you next, but . . .”
“But what, Bethany? It’s ok. Whatever it is, it’s ok.”
“I don’t really understand it--what he said, I mean.”
“If you don’t get it, then why are you crying?”
“Because he knows you and he knows that you will get it. And he loves you. Even though you’re crazy.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s just so romantic.”
“What did he want you to tell me?”
“And you know him, too. You knew he’d give me a message.”
“Beth. Please.”
“He said that he’d been thinking about the first book you two read together. And he said, you were right. He delighted in sacrifice. That's what he said, I delight in sacrifice. Do you know what he meant?”
“Yeah,” Eloise answered, her throat dry and her eyes wet. Walking over to her book shelf, she pulled down her worn copy of Jane Eyre and flipped through the pages. At the end of the novel, after Mr. Rochester’s been hurt and blinded, he criticizes Jane for her protestations of love. He yells at her, claiming that she enjoys suffering and sacrifice. Jane replies, To be privileged to put my arms round what I value—to press my lips to what I love—to repose on what I trust: is that to make a sacrifice? If so, then certainly I delight in sacrifice.
“I have to go, Beth. Thanks for everything. And I’m not mad that you talked to him. You’re trying to help. I get that. I love you.”
“I love you, too. We all do, Eloise. Really. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Good night.”
“Night night.”
When the phone went silent, the quiet in her apartment was tangible. She thumbed through the book to see Gakino’s inscription. The pages rustled and echoed. So long ago now, he’d signed this book wondering if they could be friends. She remembered reading Jane’s anxieties about being too far beneath Rochester’s notice, and she’d seen the parallels at the time,waiting for the day that Gakino realized she was the modern equivalent of governess and way too common to fit in his life. But somehow, she and Gakino had become friends and then lovers. Gakino’s message . . .
If Bethany understood it better, she’d have been full-on weeping.
The line Gakino quoted showed that he knew
what worried her...and that he thought she had it all wrong.
She wasn’t Jane. She was Rochester. Hurt. Scarred. Unseeing. She flipped pages until she reached the passage about Jane's happy sacrifice. Rochester admits that he hates to be helped. Admits that, in fact, he has long preferred utter loneliness to the assistance of other people. At this point, though, Rochester has changed. He’s sure that Jane suits him. He’s content to be weakened. As long as he has Jane—the alpha and the omega of his heart’s wishes., he’s eager for marriage, ready to be led by his lover’s soft and steady hand.
Eloise wasn’t. And she couldn’t say that she ever would be.
But she was worried about Gakino.
He was loving, demonstrative, but he was still private...not as private as she was, but he didn’t speak of his feeling easily He wouldn’t have called Bethany if something wasn’t wrong, especially when he knew how much it would bother her. It was possible that he was simply anxious. Silence could do things to you. She wasn’t answering emails, texts, or phone calls. He might be imagining the worst. But . . .
How badly would it hurt her if, suddenly, Gakino turned his back on her and cut her out of his life? Maybe Bethany and Maia were right. Maybe she should find out how he was. She always ran. With everyone else, it had saved her and hurt no one. They were grateful for the distance, or, like her father, happy to have her gone, but Gakino...If she googled him, who would know?
CHAPTER 18
Tenshi had taped several interviews over the last few months. Their hosts had stopped asking him questions, and the other band members carried the burden of appearances on themselves. It was all Gakino could do to keep going some days.
It wasn’t that he was depressed exactly. He knew he could go on. He knew that tomorrow would come. But what he didn’t know was why he should continue to smile when the only person he wanted to smile for didn’t want to see it.
“So what’s up next for Tenshi?” The perky interview woman had directed the question at him. He managed a less than tense grimace. It might have resembled a smile.
How to Date Japanese Idols (The Tenshi Series) Page 23