Removed – Chapter 3

After we’ve gulped down our saké and eaten a little more rice, Helena, Miko, and I grab our purses and head out to the street. It’s around twelve-fifteen, and people are milling about either heading home or to another party.

In the old days before the last of humanity were all confined to the domes of Nishikyō, everyone would stay up until dawn and then drive to the nearest coast or outlook to watch the first sunrise of the year, but that tradition is long gone now. The lamps will come up like they do every morning mimicking the sunrise of where we all live now, an area in North America in what used to be called Canada. At this time of year, daybreak won’t be until around eight.

“I thought it was supposed to be cooler tonight,” Helena says taking out her fan and creating her own personal breeze.

“Me, too. The forecast was a low of seven tonight, and Nishikyō Dome Control were going to turn on the fans after midnight.” It doesn’t feel any cooler, though. Only about the same twenty-one degrees Celsius Nishikyō always is in winter.

“Come on, girls. Let’s hustle to the shrine and get our omikuji. My father wants me to get back to the izakaya quick so the cute boy can come back and woo me.” She lets out a laugh that borders on evil. This Yoichi has his work cut out for him.

I’m so tired. After all the talking, eating, and drinking, I’m about an hour from falling asleep. I’m used to long days at work and early bedtimes. My routine is boring sometimes, but it’s the way my life is right now. I guess I won’t be seeing the younger brother, Jiro.

This neighborhood shrine, nestled in between two gift shops, is such a sweet little spot. I’ve often seen the owners of the shops sweeping the front steps or placing rice in cups inside as offerings. I think this space actually used to be an alley, but a long time ago, the neighborhood got together and built the shrine. The floors, walls, and vaulted roof are all dark, composite wood, and a small tatami straw mat lies in front of the prayer area near the back. The doors are swung open, and, inside, a few people are getting their omikuji, little paper slips with fortunes on them, from the machine to the right of the door.

Miko, Helena, and I line up in front of the gods to make our wishes again. I’m going to keep making the same wish when I visit the temple with Aunt Kimie and Lomo later on today. I will wish for love, happiness, and excitement a hundred million times if it will come true.

Miko is the first to finish and turn. “Oh, hello,” she says. In the doorway are Yoichi, Jiro, and the man with the ponytail from earlier. My heart jumps. A lucky break!

“Your father said you might be here,” the man says. I wonder who he is. He’s not their father because they both resemble the other man who was with them earlier. He’s watching me, though. Curious. I thought they were all here for Miko.

“Happy New Year,” Miko says, and we all repeat the new year’s greeting after her, bowing at each other. “You’re just in time. We were about to get our omikuji.”

I smile at Miko’s charming hospitality, but I direct myself at Jiro. Oh yes, the wish is already working because he’s smiling back. I clasp my hands in front of me so they don’t shake, but I refuse to break eye contact. I’ve never been shy, and I don’t intend to start now when I’m sure I can make my wish come true if I try hard enough.

“We haven’t all been properly introduced,” the man says, cracking the smallest of smiles at us. He seems very stern. “I am Mark Sakai. This is Yoichi Itō and Jiro Itō.” They each nod to us, Jiro never looking away.

The New Year’s Eve magic is working.

Miko clears her throat. Could she actually be a little nervous? That’s not like her at all. “I’m Miko Tanaka, and these are my friends, Helena Tambor and Sanaa Griffin.”

Now he knows my name.

Mark Sakai looks at Jiro and me watching each other, and I detect the smallest of sighs from him. Maybe he didn’t intend on chaperoning kids looking for love tonight.

“Have you made your wishes yet?” I ask before the awkward silence swallows us all whole.

“No,” Jiro says. “We just came from the okiya to the izakaya to here.”

“Well, you should now before the shrine gets crowded.” I move off to the side pulling Helena with me. I don’t want to break this contact I’m having with Jiro, but I want to be polite. First impressions are everything. “We’ll get our omikuji and meet you outside.”

I turn before the blush on my neck creeps up to my face. Helena, Miko, and I extract our omikuji wish papers from the machine, and, without reading mine, I walk out of the temple and back to the sidewalk. They came from an okiya? A party with geishas? I don’t know anyone who regularly goes to any of the okiya-ochaya in the city. Parties at an okiya are too expensive for most of us. On a night like New Year’s Eve, a geisha party must be triple the price.

“Ah, damn. I got a curse again this year.” Without commenting on what the wish paper says, Helena takes her omikuji, folds and ties it to the wire next to the others. “When am I going to get good news on New Year’s Eve?” She sighs, moving to the side to peer into the window of the gift shop as Sakai, Yoichi, and Jiro exit the shrine with their omikuji papers. Sakai glances at his, folds and ties it to the wire without a word. He takes a step back and blends into the background.

Yoichi steps up to Miko who has separated herself from us a bit, no doubt to flirt with Yoichi in private. They are both reading their papers and smiling and laughing.

Jiro takes his paper in two fingers and holds it up to me. “What do you think it says? A blessing or a curse?”

I close my eyes and think. “It’s a blessing. I’m sure of it.”

“What about yours?” He nods his head at the paper in my hand that I haven’t looked at yet.

I open it up and smile. “It’s a blessing. I haven’t had one in years. Just a small one. Tenkyo.” A blessing for moving residence. Could it be for Yūsei or for getting my own place? Either way, the wish is almost prophetic.

He opens his and smiles. “You were right. A blessing, too. Looks like I’m getting lucky this year.” He turns the paper to me. Renai: a blessing in romantic relationships. Damn, I should have gotten that one, but this might be a sign.

Folding the paper into quarters, he slips it into his kimono.

“Jiro, we have one more stop before the night is through,” Sakai says behind us. He is watching us, and I get the feeling that he’s interrupting on purpose.

With a low hum, a soft, cool breeze picks up down the street, and we each let out an audible sigh. I close my eyes and breathe in the sweet, dry wind of winter in the desert.

“Ah, that’s nice.” Jiro takes a deep breath as well.

When I open my eyes, I see he closed his, too, and his face is peaceful. The fresh air makes everything new again.

“I love winter.” I respond, ending a perfect moment.

Jiro opens his eyes and tucks his hair back behind his ears. My stomach is full of fluttery lightness, and I don’t want him to go. Sakai’s stern face says these plans are set in stone, though.

“Sanaa, have a happy new year.” He steps back from me towards Sakai.

“Thank you. You as well.” I manage to smile one more time before he walks off with Sakai. He is not the only one to turn and look at me as they go, though. Sakai also glances over his shoulder before they’re around the corner and out of sight.

My aunts let me sleep in on New Year’s Day, but when I’m still in bed at eleven, Aunt Lomo comes in and shakes my shoulder until I’m awake.

“Happy Birthday! I’ve made you coffee. Time to get up and start the new year.”

Doesn’t she know I already started it last night? I peel myself from the bed slowly, take a shower and get dressed, then join them in the kitchen for Japanese breakfast: rice, seaweed, soy fish, and miso soup. And coffee. I’m the only one who drinks it.

“How was your night, Sanaa? Did you have a good time?” Aunt Kimie blows on her mug of tea and, after a sip, stacks her plates on top of Aunt Lomo’s. She’s already dressed in her dark blue kimono for the day. Aunt Kimie is my late mother’s younger sister, and I hear from Aunt Lomo that they were very similar growing up. Aunt Kimie is small like me, and she always wears her hair up in a bun, though she doesn’t have a strand of gray to be seen. I hope I’m so lucky when I get older. She’s my gossip companion. I share all my secrets with her, and I think she’s hoping for some details from last night.

“I had a fantastic time. We went to the shrine down the street afterward, and I finally got an omikuji blessing.”

“Ah! You haven’t had one in years.”

“And then I came home. It was a typical New Year’s Eve. Miko met a handsome boy, though. They were still talking when we left.”

Aunt Kimie and Lomo smile at each other. They are both aware of Miko’s dating practices.

“He had a younger brother I talked to for a moment, but then he was on his way. Oh well.” I take a sip of coffee and start to eat breakfast. “Anyway, we should get dressed and go to the temple before the crowds get too big.”

Aunt Lomo stands and puts her dishes in the auto-washer. “I’m almost ready, but I need help with my kimono.”

Aunt Lomo is so similar in build to Aunt Kimie and me, but she’s the tallest of us. She wears her hair down to her shoulders with a little flip out, and twists it in her fingers when she’s thinking. I’ve caught myself doing the same thing many times.

She grabs her hair pins off the table and heads to the bedroom with Aunt Kimie on her heels. These two are perfectly content with each other, and they’ve been married now for twenty years. I’m glad my parents chose them to be my caregivers before they died. My other side of the family won’t even talk to me anymore. Aunt Sharon cut off communication years ago.

I could probably sit here and stare at my breakfast for hours while thinking about my family, but I know the temple will be crowded today, and we should get going. It’s hard to believe another year has gone by without my mother and father. I wonder what they’d think of me now. Would they be proud? They’ve been gone so long, but I still miss them.

Aunt Lomo comes from the bedroom all dressed. “Your turn, Sanaa. Eat up so we can go.” I hurriedly put on a happy face. I don’t want Aunt Lomo to worry.

When we get to the temple back in our old Ku 5 ward, the stone covered courtyard is packed wall-to-wall. We wait our turn with everyone else, make our wishes, and Aunt Kimie and Lomo both receive omikuji. I decide not to because I’m happy with the small blessing I got last night and don’t want to ruin it. The whole trip takes a few hours. The trains are slow and packed, the streets filled with people, and, just for fun, we decide to walk down to our old neighborhood and visit the places we used to spend time in.

I’m glad the old karate dōjō where I first met Miko and Helena is still going strong. Even though it’s New Year’s Day, the teachers have opened the place up and turned on all the lights so people can meet and hang out. I always loved this dōjō. It was a bright and happy spot in my otherwise sad childhood.

When we finally arrive back in Ku 9, we pick up our mochi from the local restaurant and head home to eat our New Year’s Day dinner together. Aunt Lomo prepares roasted sweet potatoes with seaweed and sesame, vegetable dumplings, rice, mochi, and pulls out a bottle of white wine she must have picked up somewhere in Ku 4. That’s the only place I’ve ever seen wine shops. To top off the meal, Aunt Kimie produces three oranges. I haven’t had fresh fruit in weeks! We each sit and eat them in silence, savoring every bite.

I’m ready to call an end to the day early once dinner is over even though it’s my birthday. Work starts again tomorrow, and I know things will be busy with everyone back in the office from the holiday. But I still have two last New Year’s Day traditions to complete.

In my room, I slip out of my kimono into some loose pajamas and then pull my tablet from my bag. Without looking at any of my messages, I sit down at my small desk and go straight to the folder that contains all of my parents’ photos. One by one, I flip through and look at them. I’ve seen these photos a million times before, but they still make me cry. One of my mother holding me in the maternity ward in Ku 2. My father laughing at a party. My parents with Aunt Kimie and Lomo. There are even a few of my mother with her father. He died not long after she did. I barely knew him.

I keep this New Year’s tradition to myself and let the tears come silently, wiping them away with my hands and ignoring the handkerchief. Aunt Kimie doesn’t like to talk about my mother, her father, or any of the time she grew up in Ku 6. Though she loved my mother, she was devastated when she died, especially since her father disowned her when she married Aunt Lomo. I’m still not sure why. I think my grandfather wanted more grandchildren, but he only got me, the half-Japanese.

I give myself another minute of tears before taking a deep breath. I’m not really a wallower. I like to deal with things and move on. But I allow myself these photos once per year because I’m always afraid I’m going to forget what they look like. Then I see the photos again, close my eyes, and there they are.

Turning off the tablet, I set it aside. Now is the time to write my letters to Aunt Kimie and Lomo. This year, I think I’ll compose haikus for both of them, but it’s going to require some thought. With my pen poised over my stationery, I begin like I do every year.

“Dearest Aunt Kimie…”