Tokyo Hearts: A Japanese Love Story

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Tokyo Hearts: A Japanese Love Story Page 3

by Renae Lucas-Hall


  Haruka sighed. She was tired but content. It had been a lovely evening. She shut her eyes, wanting to avoid the scene in front of her. The heavy humidity of the day had taken its toll on the surrounding passengers, and the air was thick and stifling.

  Tightening the clutch on her handbag and shuffling a little in her seat in order not to appear asleep, she thought about her time with Takashi. In her mind, she saw his kind face – his strong jaw set below his firm mouth. She smiled as she pictured his gentle dark brown eyes and small, flat nose. His square shoulders against his lean, sinewy body. Haruka liked the way his cheeks flushed when he felt uncomfortable and the way he would scratch his left ear when he was nervous. She also thought his bushy sideburns were very sexy. Every time Haruka met up with Takashi, she enjoyed his company. They certainly had a lot in common. They were both interested in studying Marketing. They shared a love of all things Japanese, whether it was cultural, historical, religious or otherwise. They both came from loving families and had similar aspirations for the future. They both loved the idea of travelling and learning about other cultures and Takashi lacked the selfishness and arrogance of so many other boys his age.

  Haruka really thought of herself as very lucky to have a friend like Takashi. They’d met for the first time at the beginning of term in her first and only year at university. He could have chosen to sit next to any number of girls, yet he’d taken a seat beside Haruka on the first day. From then on, they’d become great friends. The fact that their relationship was purely platonic helped create within her a respect for him that she did not know could exist until recently.

  Takashi had been and always would be a great friend for Haruka, a soothing constant in her life. Able to read between the lines, he’d always been there to support her when she needed him most. She’d realised this two years ago when her father had a heart attack. He’d needed a total commitment from both her mother and herself to nurse him back to good health over a period of eighteen months.

  Every week, Haruka would receive a call from Takashi. Her family were just starting to reach the point of despair over her father’s condition, when one day, after speaking to Takashi, she found herself softly singing a tune when she walked into the room where her father was lying. As she set his lunch tray down next to his bed, her father smiled and managed with her help to sit up. Every day after that, she would sing a tune as she fussed over her father and made his room more comfortable, and every day her father got a little bit better.

  Without Takashi’s weekly calls, Haruka wouldn’t have had the energy within her to get through those days or even carry one note of a song.

  In the last couple of years, she’d been out with a series of boys, but most often for just one or two dates. She’d definitely had fun at the time. Yet looking back, she believed that she’d just been deceived into thinking she was special. Some boys would take her out, but only to impress their friends; others would flirt outrageously with her but did not ask her out – maybe having heard fallacious gossip spread by simple minds.

  Takashi was very different. He was always kind and wanted to spend time with her for all the right reasons. She’d wanted to take their relationship further, but when the opportunity presented itself, she’d always recoiled at the thought that she might lose a close friend. She couldn’t risk jeopardising the only relationship that had ever meant something significant to her. Thus, over the last few years Haruka hadn’t dated anyone seriously.

  Her life was much better now that her father had recovered from his illness and because of this she could now spend more time with friends whose company she enjoyed. But Haruka’s life was about to become very complicated.

  Haruka’s ex-boyfriend Jun had come back into her life and she’d been out with him without Takashi’s knowledge on several occasions. She’d met Jun when she was eighteen and they’d dated for a while. Her parents thought they were very well-suited at the time and before long there had been talk of an engagement. Haruka and her parents had even travelled to Kyoto to meet Jun’s parents, but it was there that everything ended up turning out pear-shaped. When they’d returned to Tokyo, she had been very upset to hear that Jun’s mother thought she was too young and immature for a serious commitment, and that had been the end of the relationship.

  Thinking back to her first and last meeting with Jun’s mother, Mrs Kurokawa, made her cheeks burn with shame even now. She could almost taste in her mouth the saltiness of the tears she’d shed on the day she’d ruined any chance of a commitment with Jun. It was all down to the fact that she’d sprained her ankle as she’d entered one of the finest restaurants in Kyoto, often frequented by Jun’s family. Before the lunch, she’d spent the morning trying to be everything Jun’s mother would want her to be, but as she and her parents walked through the entrance, ready to share their first meal with their future in-laws, Haruka’s three-inch high heels had betrayed her and she’d lost her footing and sprained her ankle.

  The pain in her left foot had been excruciating, and she’d cried out as the tears streamed down her cheeks. She could clearly remember peering up at Mrs Kurokawa, noticing her eyes shocked with humiliation, whilst she crouched down, holding her ankle in agony. Mrs Kurokawa had ordered her to pull herself together, and Haruka had really tried to suppress her suffering throughout the meal that followed, but she could not appreciate the food or the conversation as the stress on her left foot had killed her appetite entirely and her ability to communicate without wincing.

  From that moment onwards, Mrs Kurokawa could only find fault in her. The morning she’d spent ingratiating herself with Jun’s mother could not make up for her behaviour at the restaurant. Later that day, after the meal, Jun and her parents had taken her to the closest hospital in Kyoto because her ankle had swelled up to the point where it resembled a bruised mango. The doctor there, upon examination, had said that it was a serious sprain. Jun had been very sympathetic, and he’d tried to defend her, but he told her later that his mother wouldn’t listen to him. Apparently, she couldn’t forget her embarrassment when Haruka had made a scene at her favourite restaurant, where she was proud of the fact that all the waiters knew her name.

  Jun and his mother were very close. He was her only child, and they had a real bond. His mother had spoiled him from an early age, and still continued to indulge him as an adult. He looked for her approval in all aspects of his life, whether it was the clothes he wore, the friends with whom he chose to be acquainted or the girls he dated. He really liked Haruka, but he was afraid of upsetting his mother, and so he was forced to quit seeing her.

  Haruka truly liked Takashi, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but her parents had always been impressed by Jun and his family’s wealth and they were encouraging her to spend more time with him. His full name was Junichiro Kurokawa, and she was flattered that he was visiting her again. Three years ago, after the breakup, she’d been devastated to lose him, but after a year of wondering how it all went wrong, she’d looked back at the time they’d spent together and she’d decided that they’d both been quite immature. She’d also thought that Jun was very critical of her and he’d teased her a lot. Haruka thought that he’d been trying to mould her into his version of what he’d like to have in a wife, rather than accepting her for who she really was. Now that they were seeing each other again, she believed that he’d changed for the better, and she was certainly a lot more mature.

  Jun had started calling Haruka and visiting her again at her home in fune for about two months now, and she couldn’t say that she didn’t enjoy the attention. She also knew that he made her mother happy. She liked Jun so much and always welcomed him into their house with open arms. The criticism that Haruka had received from Jun several years ago that had once annoyed her was now replaced with charm and compliments, and the generous presents that he brought with him from Kyoto on his visits were always a delight for her and her mother.

  It was really difficult for Haruka to tell Takashi about her relationship with
Jun. She could hardly tell him that he was poor and Jun was rich and this was an important factor when one was considering the ideal man to marry. Firstly, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and secondly she didn’t want anything to have a negative effect on their blossoming friendship.

  Despite her best efforts, she knew Takashi was going to find out about Jun’s interest in her sooner or later. Jun was always calling her on her mobile phone or dropping in unannounced at their house every time he stayed next door with his cousin, her neighbour and best friend Yuriko Makimoto.

  Haruka could see why her mother would dote on Jun. She’d never really given up on the possibility of him as a future son-in-law. For starters, she knew he was very wealthy and generous. He also lived in an enviable and very spacious house in Kyoto that Haruka and her parents had marvelled at from the outside when they’d visited him and his parents. More recently, her mother was even more convinced of his wealth because he’d showed up at their house on several occasions bearing expensive gifts for her and her mother. Three weeks ago, he’d arrived at their house with presents from Tiffany & Co. Her mother was thrilled because, apart from the silver heart necklace he’d presented to Haruka, she’d received the same pendant in solid gold.

  She opened her eyes and took a deep sigh. Reaching into her bag, she took out her English conversation textbook and began studying it on her lap. She was getting used to the various accents of some of the foreign teachers that worked at the English conversation school where she’d recently become employed, but she would have to improve her language skills if she wanted to take on extra responsibilities.

  Haruka continued to have difficulty concentrating on her textbook on this crowded train. She realised that she was now sitting next to a very well-dressed businessman with an expensive gold watch. She couldn’t help sneaking a better look at him. He had a large mole, the size of a hundred yen piece, on his left cheek, a double chin that draped over his tight collar, and he was sweating profusely under his fine gabardine jacket. He noticed Haruka glancing in his direction and gave her a slight nudge, while at the same time pointing at her English book.

  ‘Are you learning English?’ he asked her. Haruka could smell his breath – it was putrid, and glancing to her right again, she saw large rings of sweat circling his armpits.

  ‘Yes,’ Haruka replied, wishing he hadn’t asked her a question. She looked in the opposite direction towards the door.

  ‘I could teach you to speak fluently. I lived in America for ten years,’ he said – then added in English, in a thick accent, ‘I am very good teacher.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Haruka replied, a little sarcastically.

  There was a line of people standing in front of her. She wanted to get up and escape, but the train was so crowded there was nowhere to go.

  ‘Have you been overseas?’ the sweaty man asked her.

  ‘No,’ replied Haruka.

  ‘I could teach you English on the weekends. I won’t even charge you. We could meet in a coffee shop. Where do you live?’

  ‘I don’t live near Tokyo,’ Haruka lied, avoiding the question and hoping that he would now keep quiet.

  ‘Do you come to Tokyo often?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ she replied, lying again.

  A middle-aged woman standing in front of Haruka looked down with an amused expression.

  ‘I live in Yokohama,’ he said. He took out a business card from his shirt pocket and placed it on Haruka’s book. ‘Call me and we can be friends,’ he said smiling nervously. Beads of sweat were sliding down the side of his face.

  ‘If you live in Yokohama, you’ve just missed your stop,’ Haruka pointed out to him. The train had just pulled out of Yokohama station.

  ‘Yes, you’re right. I … um … deliberately missed my stop because you’re so beautiful,’ stammered the sweaty businessman.

  Haruka looked down at her book and ignored him. He collected his briefcase from between his legs and rose in order to get out at the next stop. He shoved past the crowd in front of them to get to the door and embarrassed Haruka one last time with a final desperate look and the words: ‘Please call me.’

  Haruka tried to appear engrossed in her English conversation textbook. The bemused middle-aged lady took his seat, still smiling to herself.

  Haruka shut her eyes for a while and cringed. A few minutes later, wondering where they were, she opened her eyes again and realised that the carriage was a lot less crowded and she could reach the door without having to push past anyone. She was only a couple of stops from her station. Haruka put her English book back into her bag and standing up, she edged her way to the door, leaving the sweaty man’s business card on the seat. Taking her mirror from her bag, she touched up her lips with a rosy Chanel lipgloss and blotted her nose with her powder compact. Happy with her reflection, Haruka adjusted her headband and waited, now impatient to reach her stop at fune, where her car was parked in the station car park.

  As Haruka pulled into the driveway and parked her car in front of her house, she decided to go and visit Yuriko, even though it was getting late. She hadn’t seen her for a few days, and she missed her. Haruka put the car in park, grabbed her bag and brushed her hair before locking up the car and heading up the long driveway next door.

  Mr Makimoto, Yuriko’s father, answered the door. He was a man of few words, who always gave the impression of being a very busy person with no time for small talk. After a brief greeting and Haruka removing her shoes at the entrance, he directed her upstairs to Yuriko’s bedroom.

  Once upstairs, Haruka turned the corner on the landing and was surprised to find Yuriko’s chubby younger brother dressed in his school uniform crouching down with his ear pressed to her bedroom door. The naughty look on his face turned red with shame when he saw Haruka looking down at him suspiciously.

  ‘She’s upset again. My sister’s been crying for over half an hour and I just wanted to check to see if she was all right,’ he said to Haruka, trying hard to adopt a look of brotherly concern.

  ‘Well I think you should head back to your own room. Don’t you have some homework to do?’ Haruka asked him. The kind authority in her voice made him scurry off quickly back to his own room.

  Haruka could hear Yuriko’s sobs behind the door above the whirring sound of her exercise bike. She knocked gently on the door and the crying stopped, only to be replaced by the sound of her trying to contain her emotions.

  Haruka gently opened the door and peeped inside. Yuriko had her back to the door. She was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and jeans and strands of her long lanky hair were clinging on to her sweaty face. Yuriko was dabbing her forehead and blowing her nose with several tissues, cycling frantically, unaware that Haruka was behind her. It upset her to see Yuriko in this state. Haruka called out her name and she turned. Despite a red nose and mascara running down her cheeks, Yuriko attempted a wide smile when she saw it was Haruka coming in to see her, but she continued to cycle as though her legs were disengaged with a maniacal life of their own.

  ‘I’m sorry you have to see me like this,’ Yuriko blurted out between her sobs, which had become less dramatic and more controlled. ‘I went shopping in Yokohama earlier today, and who do you think I saw there?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Haruka replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘I guess you ran into Ry, because I know he lives in that area and maybe you had an argument.’ Yuriko had been dating a boy Haruka had never met called Ry for about eight weeks, and Haruka had sensed for a while now before today that they had a volatile relationship.

  ‘Good guess, Haruka, and you’re half right,’ said Yuriko. ‘I didn’t have any plans to meet up with him today, but I was coming out of Sogo Department Store and I saw him walking from the station. I was going to rush up and say hello when I noticed that he wasn’t alone.’ Yuriko took her hands off the bike handles to blow her nose and wipe the mascara away from under her eyes as she peddled. ‘He was with a young, pretty girl about our age. I didn’t want to
jump to conclusions and get jealous and upset, because I thought she might be his sister or someone like that, so I decided to follow them.’

  Haruka crossed her legs and leant forward. ‘So you decided to follow them,’ she repeated, nodding her head and urging Yuriko to continue.

  ‘Yes,’ Yuriko replied. ‘I kept my distance so they couldn’t see me and they started to head towards Chinatown.’

  ‘Go on,’ Haruka said.

  ‘Well, you’re not going to believe this, but as they walked through Chinatown, Ry took the girl’s hand, and they walked down the street, both of them looking blissfully happy – and that’s when I started to get upset, wondering what my boyfriend was doing behind my back.’ Yuriko’s face started to contort again and tears started running down her cheeks.

  Haruka went over and placed her hand on her shoulder.

  ‘But that’s not the worst part,’ Yuriko said between gasping sobs. ‘I kept following them and of course they didn’t see me, because they were so wrapped up in each other, and before long I could see where they were going.’

  ‘Where were they going?’ Haruka asked her face incredulous.

  ‘They were going to a love hotel!’ Yuriko replied, still peddling like a crazy woman.

  ‘Noooo,’ Haruka said, now feeling really upset about what Ry had done to her friend. ‘What a sleazy two-timer.’ She sat down on the edge of Yuriko’s bed.

  ‘Oh, yes – I hate Ry and I never want to see him again,’ continued Yuriko. ‘If he tries to call me, I won’t answer and if he sends me a text message, I won’t respond to the sleaze.’

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what you should do,’ Haruka reassured her. ‘Come on, get down off the bike before your legs fall off.’

  Yuriko slowly wound down and eventually dropped off the bike and fell onto the bed next to Haruka, curling up into the foetal position. Haruka stood up to give her more room and went over to sit down on the bright pink candy-striped sofa chair opposite, very concerned about her friend.

 

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