Tokyo Hearts: A Japanese Love Story

by Renae Lucas-Hall

  He’d just about finished his sushi when he received a phone call from his cousin Katsuro, who lived in Yga.

  ‘Hi Takashi, it’s Katsuro. How’re you doing?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine, thanks, good to hear from you,’ Takashi replied. ‘What’s new?’

  ‘Not a lot. Sorry I haven’t spoken to you recently. I’ve been really busy at work.’

  ‘You have the best job, don’t you? I know you work really hard, but you get a lot of perks working for such a prestigious trading company,’ said Takashi.

  ‘Wait and see, Takashi. When you begin to work, you’ll understand that my job sounds a lot better than it actually is.’

  Takashi lit a cigarette. ‘How’s Mika?’ he asked, flicking his ash into the ashtray.

  ‘She’s okay thanks.’

  ‘And the house?’ asked Takashi. ‘Are you enjoying living at this new place in Yga?’

  ‘I miss Australia and being able to walk to the beach on the weekends. My house was also a lot bigger over there.’

  Takashi put his hand to his mouth and coughed before stubbing out the end of the cigarette. ‘But this house in Yga is nice, isn’t it?’ Takashi asked with his hand to his mouth.

  ‘What did you say?’ asked Katsuro.

  ‘Sorry, I have a tickle in my throat. Your home – it’s nice, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ said Katsuro. ‘It’s much smaller, but Mika’s happy because she missed Tokyo and now she doesn’t have as much to clean.’

  ‘You know I wanted to visit you in Australia, but I couldn’t afford the plane ticket. Will you be going back there?’ Takashi asked.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. I think that I’ll be posted in London within the next two years,’ Katsuro replied.

  ‘For how long?’ Takashi asked.

  ‘It will probably be a four-year stint, but I’d prefer to go back to Australia. Hey Takashi, why don’t you come to visit us next Saturday? We live about five minutes from Yga train station. Will you come for dinner?’

  ‘I can’t make it this Saturday because I have to go and visit my grandmother in Yokosuka, but are you free the following Saturday?’ Takashi asked.

  ‘Sure, that would be fine, Takashi.’

  ‘By the way, what’s Mika planning on making for dinner?’ asked Takashi. He knew Mika was an excellent cook and he always looked forward to her meals.

  Katsuro laughed. ‘I don’t know yet. Does it matter?’

  ‘Of course not! I’ll be there about six p.m. if that suits you. Can you e-mail me the directions?’

  ‘Sure. See you then, Takashi.’

  ‘Bye, Katsuro,’ Takashi said to him.

  He hadn’t seen Katsuro for a few years. He was the eldest son of his mother’s brother, and he was just as much a close friend as he was his cousin. When they were younger, he’d been someone that Takashi and his older brother had really respected. The time that Katsuro had spent with Takashi when his brother had passed away was so generous of him that it was something that would always be appreciated and never forgotten. Although Katsuro had been busy with his university exams at the time, he would often visit Takashi’s family in Yokosuka and sit with his parents or take him outside to play baseball or help Takashi to practise the art of Kendo. He’d always been a much better sportsman than Takashi, but he would often let him win at games just to cheer him up when Katsuro knew that he was having a difficult time.

  Katsuro had met his wife Mika a couple of years after he’d started working at the trading company he’d joined after his graduation. She’d been a secretary there. According to Katsuro, they’d hit it off almost immediately, and three years ago they’d married. When Takashi had first met Mika, he thought that she was very demure and painfully shy, but as he got to know her better, they’d became more comfortable with each other and now he really enjoyed seeing her because she was extremely nice and often a lot of fun. Takashi was really looking forward to next week. He’d never had a bad meal at his cousin’s house and the food was always as good as their company.

  Takashi’s phone beeped and vibrated in the palm of his hand. A smile crept onto his face when he saw that it was Haruka’s name that flashed up onto the screen. She must have called while he was on the phone to Katsuro. He checked to see if she’d left a voice message, but she hadn’t.

  He dialled her number. He didn’t even hear the ring tone. Haruka must have been waiting for the call.

  ‘Moshi moshi,’ said Haruka on the other end of the phone. She sounded happy that he’d returned her call.

  ‘You just called me, Haruka?’ Takashi said to her, wiping his beaded forehead with the back of his left hand. The combination of Haruka’s voice and the heat and the humidity in his apartment were dramatically increasing his body temperature.

  ‘I just called to thank you for tonight.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ Takashi replied.

  ‘Did you have a good time?’ she asked.

  Takashi’s smile broadened. ‘Definitely. Um … Haruka, what are you doing Sunday week?’

  ‘Nothing during the day. Some friends might be coming over on that Sunday night,’ she said.

  Takashi was about to ask who they were, but he stopped himself. ‘Would you like to spend the day with me in Kamakura?’ he asked her.

  ‘Sounds good. By the way, I can’t meet you next Thursday. I just remembered that I have to work late,’ she said.

  ‘Not to worry – I’ll see you the following Sunday,’ Takashi said to her. ‘How about I meet you at Kamakura station at ten a.m.?’

  ‘Okay that sounds good,’ said Haruka. ‘Thanks again for this evening.’

  Takashi was about to reply when the floor suddenly started shaking underneath him. The empty sushi container and chopsticks on the table in front of him fell onto the carpet. He dropped his mobile phone as he tried to stand up.

  ‘Are you there?’ cried out Haruka on the other end of the line.

  He could hear Haruka calling out to him as he grabbed his phone as well as his keys and his jacket, ready for an emergency exit from his apartment.

  ‘Sorry, the room is shaking … it’s an earthquake – can you feel it?’ Takashi asked Haruka.

  ‘No, I can’t feel a thing,’ she replied.

  ‘Well, you are quite far away … wait a minute, it seems all right now … I think it has stopped,’ said Takashi.

  ‘Are you going to be okay?’ Haruka asked him.

  ‘I’ll be fine. I’d better go. I’ll call you in the next few days,’ Takashi replied.

  ‘Okay. I’m looking forward to hearing from you. Bye, Takashi,’ she said.

  ‘Bye, Haruka,’ Takashi replied. He put down the phone. It annoyed him that the recent earthquakes seemed like they were constantly interrupting any quality communication he was hoping to have with Haruka. There were no more tremors to follow and Haruka filled his thoughts as he cleaned up the container and chopsticks that had fallen onto the carpet. He had constantly kept in touch with her by phone for quite a few years. He’d been so concerned about her when her father was ill that he couldn’t help but call her on a regular basis.

  This telephone tennis gave him the opportunity to try and lift her spirits, and before long, it also had a positive effect on him. Now, if they didn’t talk for up to three days, he really missed her and it felt like something was lacking in his life. This feeling would only subside if he spoke to her again. He decided it was going to be a long week waiting for the following weekend when he could spend more time with her, especially with the tedious visit to his grandmother in the next couple of days.

  CHAPTER 4

  By companying with the wise, a man shall learn wisdom

  It was over a week later, at four p.m. on Saturday, when Takashi disembarked from the train at Shibuya. From there, he changed platforms to take the Tky Den-en-toshi line to Yga. The rainy season was still upon them. It was very wet outside and the air was moist. There had only been a smattering of showers earlier that day, but now it was raining
heavily.

  Because the afternoon air was still incredibly humid, his linen shirt that was so crisp and clean only an hour earlier was now wet and sticking to his chest. He knew that the heat would continue like this for another couple of months before the cool autumn breezes descended on Tokyo.

  Takashi took his seat on the train bound for Yga and checked his mobile phone for messages. His mother had sent him a text telling him how good it had been to see him the previous weekend and how she’d been impressed with his patience as he’d listened for over two hours to his grandmother’s various grumbles and grievances. Takashi sent her a message back to let her know that he was looking forward to seeing her and his father again soon. This was not untrue. Although Takashi liked the independence he had living in Kawasaki, it had been an easy and enjoyable life growing up in Yokosuka. His mother had always been strict, yet kind, and his father had always been very easy going – he was the joker in the house. When Takashi’s brother died and he and his mother had been completely distraught, it was his father who had carried them through this difficult time. His father had never allowed them to continue to carry the burden of his brother’s death, and his lighthearted manner had helped them to extinguish a lot of the pain.

  Takashi’s train pulled into Yga station and he ascended up and out past the exit and into the street. Although he’d been to Yga a couple of times before, this would be the first time he’d visited his cousin’s house there. They’d settled here in the spring. Katsuro and his wife had just recently returned from a two-year working stint in Australia and Katsuro’s company had provided them with this lovely house when they’d returned to Japan. It was a very convenient location for them, as it was close to the parks and shops in the neighbouring town of Futako-Tamagawa. Yga was also a very respectable town in the district of Setagaya, and because of its proximity to central Tokyo, it was an enviable place in which to live.

  Takashi checked the e-mail his cousin had sent him with the directions to his house and walked the two blocks from the station to his home. He rang the doorbell at their pretty brick entrance. It was surrounded by rose bushes drooping in the rain.

  Katsuro’s wife Mika answered the door and Takashi greeted her with a big smile.

  ‘My dear Takashi,’ she said. ‘Come on inside. You’re soaking wet.’

  ‘Yes, it’s been raining pretty heavily,’ he replied.

  She pulled the door open wide to allow him into the entrance of the house. Takashi gave Mika a friendly bow as he removed his jacket and shoes and slid into the house slippers she provided.

  ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Mika.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘How’ve you been?’

  ‘Good – very good, in fact,’ Takashi said. He handed Mika a present he’d brought for her and Katsuro. It was a box of cakes filled with sweetened red bean-paste made from azuki beans.

  ‘Thank you, Takashi, that’s very nice of you,’ said Mika as she took the gift from him. ‘Well, come on inside. Katsuro has been really looking forward to seeing you again.’

  Takashi followed Mika into the living room. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and she was wearing a long apron that covered her cotton shirt and knee-length skirt. Her clothes were simple in their design, but obviously expensive.

  Mika called out to Katsuro to come downstairs as Takashi sat down in an extremely comfortable sofa in their small but beautifully furnished living room. There was a delicious smell of homemade Japanese dishes coming from the kitchen. Katsuro came down the stairs and Mika scurried away to finish preparing the meal.

  Katsuro was thirty-three years old, but he had the boyish grin of someone in his mid-twenties. He held out his hand to Takashi as he bounded across the living room, and Takashi instantly felt relaxed and at home. Katsuro was wearing a Ralph Lauren blue polo shirt and indigo denim jeans. Mika brought in a couple of Kirin beers and Katsuro poured both of them a glass.

  ‘It’s good to see you again,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ Takashi replied, taking a sip of his beer. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  ‘So what have you been up to?’ Katsuro asked Takashi.

  ‘Well, I’ve been studying a lot,’ he replied.

  ‘And how’s that been going?’ Katsuro asked.

  ‘Not too bad.’

  ‘And how are your mother and father, Takashi?’

  ‘They’re well,’ Takashi replied. ‘I went to see them last weekend and we visited my grandmother. Do you remember meeting her at my brother’s funeral?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve met her a few times,’ replied Katsuro. ‘She always seemed nice, but very reserved and quite strict. I would even say I remember her as being a bit intimidating.’

  ‘Yes that’s my grandmother,’ Takashi said.

  ‘Does she live close to your parents in Yokosuka?’

  ‘Yes, it takes about an hour to drive to her house,’ Takashi replied. ‘I have to tell you, I think she was not her usual self last week. We arrived at her house at about four p.m. and we sat in the tatami room as usual. While my mother was making us all tea, my grandmother spent quite a long time relaying her usual gripes. She talked about the young people of today losing touch with the real Japan. How girls’ skirts were too short; their hair was not supposed to be blonde and that too many of them were unnecessarily promiscuous. She also complained about the fact that the youth of Japan were all getting too fat from eating too much Western fast food and that young men were driving way too fast in their modified cars,’ Takashi said, pausing to take a long sip of his beer, after which Katsuro refilled his glass.

  ‘Go on,’ said Katsuro, amused by this portrayal of Takashi’s grandmother.

  ‘When my mother brought the tea into the room, my grandmother started asking me questions she’d never asked before,’ said Takashi.

  ‘Such as?’ asked Katsuro.

  ‘Well, she asked me about my studies and whether I had a girlfriend or not. She even asked me how many children I’d like, when I plan to get married and whether I plan to live in Tokyo in the future or further afield.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ asked Katsuro. ‘It sounds like she was being nice.’

  ‘That’s the strange part about it,’ Takashi replied. ‘My grandmother has never been that friendly.’

  ‘What did your parents say about this?’ asked Katsuro.

  ‘They told me not to worry about it.’

  ‘Maybe your grandmother is just softening in her old age,’ said Katsuro.

  ‘Yes, you’re probably right,’ Takashi replied.

  Katsuro poured him another beer and Takashi started telling him about his hopes to work at one of the major trading companies. Soon after, without him realising it, he started talking about Haruka.

  ‘I think Haruka’s the one I’d like to marry one day,’ he told his cousin.

  ‘Is she pretty, Takashi?’ asked Katsuro.

  ‘Oh, very pretty,’ he replied. ‘But I’m worried I’ll never be able to date her because I’m not sure whether she feels the same way about me. I think she might be seeing an ex-boyfriend again and she’s talking about taking a job in Kyoto.’

  Katsuro laughed. ‘What a person says and thinks is not always how they feel, Takashi.’

  Mika must have heard them talking about Haruka from the kitchen. She leaned around the kitchen door and called out to Takashi. ‘Be careful, Takashi, a beautiful rose may have many thorns.’

  ‘Yes, I think one of your thorns scratched me earlier,’ replied her husband. They all laughed.

  Takashi really liked Katsuro because he was always positive and a very good listener. He always felt that he was learning something from him, particularly how he should converse with others without being intrusive. Takashi somehow felt that this could be a great asset in the future.

  They finished two more glasses of Kirin beer before Mika brought some of the dishes to the table for them to start eating. Mika didn’t eat much during the dinner. She kept going back and forth from t
he kitchen to the table, always bringing in another array of food. Takashi felt honoured to enjoy such a feast. Before him was a selection of his favourite dishes: Chilled tofu, yakiniku pork marinated in soy sauce, garlic, ginger and sugar, an assortment of vegetables and the obligatory steamed rice and miso soup. Mika was obviously delighted by the smiles on their faces every time another favourite dish arrived.

  After dinner, Katsuro and Mika talked about their experiences in Australia.

  ‘What was the house like over there? Was it really a lot bigger?’ Takashi asked them.

  ‘Oh, it was huge. It had three levels and the kitchen was four times bigger than the one I cook in here,’ Mika said.

  ‘How about golf, Katsuro? Did you play a lot of golf?’ asked Takashi.

  ‘Every weekend – but I’m still not very good. The golf courses were magnificent though – they stretched for miles.’

  ‘Did you eat a lot of beef and Western food?’ Takashi asked them.

  ‘Well, Mika made mostly Japanese food at home. They have Japanese grocery stores there. But when we went out to eat, I would always order a steak,’ said Katsuro. He showed Takashi the width of the Australian steaks by indicating with his index finger and his thumb.

  They talked a lot more about Australia that evening. Mika told Takashi about the koalas and the kangaroos that she’d seen close up, as well as the English classes that she’d attended once a week. She explained to him how she had hoped to speak more English when she was living there, but she’d mostly spent her free time with other Japanese ladies. Apparently they’d all met for lunch in various Japanese restaurants once a month. Takashi was surprised to hear that there were so many Japanese restaurants in Australia and that you could buy take-away sushi from many vendors scattered around town.

  Katsuro spoke about how wide the roads were, even in the centre of the major cities. He also talked about the Australian people with whom he’d worked. He admired the way they could speak so frankly and the generous hospitality he had received from them.