Summer Haikus – Chapter 22

The train ride to Akasaka-Mitsuke is packed with people just off work — no seats and standing room only. Rather than possibly being groped by some hard-up salaryman, I stand in Masa’s protective sphere. I put my arm around his waist and lay my head on his chest in the minuscule amount of space afforded to us on the ride. He holds on to the overhead bar and hums a tune, the notes echoing through his chest to my awaiting ears.

When we exit the train into the station, Masa pulls me along with the flow of the crowd, up the stairs, weaving through the onslaught of commuters to a distant exit. On the street, the waning sunshine slants low and catches on the dark glass office buildings around us. I actually like Akasaka a lot. This section of town reminds me of New York City but, of course, everything is Japanese. It’s a nice mix of business and culture.

“The building is up here past this hotel.” We walk up a hill, cross the street, and enter a tall, modern building with a large stately lobby. Masa waves to the woman at the front desk and pulls his wallet from his pocket. In the elevator, he taps a card to the panel and punches in his floor, six. “You need the passcard to get up to the apartment.”

“So you have to come down here to let people in?”

“Nope. Get this. The building has an app.” He indicates the touchscreen inside. “I can issue a temporary ID to anyone and then text it to them so they can come up. Security is one of the strengths of this building. But I always come down to get deliveries. It’s only for friends and such.”

“Was your dad worried about security when he bought this apartment?” I ask, as the elevator brings us up to the sixth floor.

“Yes and no. Mainly because of the subletters.”

We get off the elevator and walk to the end apartment. Masa takes out his keys and opens the door into a decent sized living room and modern kitchen, with windows on both sides of the building looking out over Tokyo.

“Whoa. This place is huge.” It’s not really, but by Tokyo standards, it’s practically a palace.

“One bedroom, bathroom,” Masa says, throwing his keys on the counter and pointing down the hall. “Plus a washer dryer thing that takes an age to clean clothes. Then this kitchen and living room and closet. That’s it.”

“But it’s so modern and new… and, well, kinda American.”

“Yeah, no tatami like at your grandparents’ place.” Tatami straw mats are the base for almost all Japanese living and the bedrooms at my grandparents’ house are still tatami, though they converted the living room, kitchen, and loft to hardwood floors in the renovation. “This building caters to a lot of foreigners. It feels more European to me than anything else.”

I step in and leave my bag on a giant leather couch facing a big flat screen TV and entertainment center overflowing with PlayStation controllers and games. A few empty beer cans litter the coffee table, along with an empty McDonalds bag. Masa is living the bachelor lifestyle, but there are no discarded clothes all over the floor or stinky trash bins, as I would expect of a twenty-two-year-old boy living on his own.

Along the windows, Masa has created an art studio. A beige tarp covers the carpet, and an easel and work-in-progress canvas are seated upon it. A small cabinet packed with acrylic paint tubes, brushes, and palettes sits next to the easel. I stop in front of his latest work, Tokyo at night. I know so little about art, but I do know when something is really good, and this is astounding. The colors are blended and shaped in ways that feel unnatural but real.

“Wow,” I breathe, trying not to be too loud. Masa gets self-conscious when I fawn over his artwork. He only ever lets me have the haikus and the music, and I have to pry to see the rest. I squat down at the stack of other canvases that are dry and leaning against the wall. They’re almost all still life, scenes of Tokyo streets, gardens, and hideaways.

I glance behind me, and Masa is frozen at the doorway. I pull out a portrait of a cat slinking around the front of a sake brewery, just like the one near the ryokan, and hold it up. “I like this one the best.”

Masa breathes out slowly. “I wondered if you’d love them or hate them.”

“Hate them? Please. Have I ever hated any of your art?”

“No.” He places his keys on the kitchen counter, and I set the canvas down with the others.

“No wonder the maid service tattled on you,” I say, injecting a laugh into this awkward moment. I’m not sure if he ever thought I’d come here or see his private work. For a moment, it feels like I’m intruding.

“They come every Monday, and they avoid that whole area now.” He waves at the window and his makeshift studio in three square feet of space.

“Really? That’s nice.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I promised my parents I wouldn’t trash the place. They have a new subletter in the fall, I think.” He drums his fingers on the counter and frowns at me. I glance around his apartment and get the feeling he never meant to bring me here, what with the paintings and the video games. We were supposed to keep our relationship to the ryokan. This is his space, not mine.

“You know what? I’m tired, and I think I’ll head back to Kichijōji. I, um, I’m sorry I just invited myself over here.” I turn to the door to get my shoes, when he unsticks himself and lunges forward.

“Wait, Isa. Don’t leave. Why…” He sighs. “Why are you always running away from me?”

Because I’m no good at anything but running.

“Because…” I swallow hard in my dry throat. “Because ever since the night of that party, I’ve felt like you want to keep me here…” I step five feet away from him. “But I always want to be here.” I take three giant steps and come right into his personal space, so close his breath rushes against my hair. “That’s why I should go, because I can’t help it. I keep stepping here when I know you want me there.” I point back to the spot I was, and he shakes his head.

“No. You’re wrong. Here is where you should be. Don’t go. I want you to stay.”

He wants me here, in his space, like he was always fine with me in his room back at MSU. Comfort envelops me like a warm blanket as he clasps his hands on my upper arms and I lift my face to his. I could connect with his lips right now, force myself even deeper into his space, but our drunken kiss snaps into my mind. It was a kiss of passion, of two people in love — then it was him wiping his mouth and telling me to go home.

“Should we eat?” I ask instead, pouring cold water on my steamed and over-examined thoughts. As much as I want to wrap my arms around him, I have to remember that he set the boundaries with that failed kiss and told me to forget it ever happened. He may want me here, want me by his side, but that doesn’t mean anything more.

He blinks and squeezes my arms once before letting go. I follow him into the kitchen as he opens the refrigerator door. The inside is bare, which doesn’t surprise me one bit. Masa grabs two bottles of water among the bottles and cans of Japanese beer.

“What do you want for dinner? We can order pizza.”

“Pizza. Yeah. Let’s do that. I haven’t had pizza in a month.”

He brushes past me at the counter and reaches for his laptop on the breakfast bar. “We can order online and it’ll be here in about forty-five minutes.” The skin of his arm touches mine and sends a chill up my spine. I’m tired and my defenses are down. I should be careful.

“Perfect. Can I get cleaned up? I was so sweaty today.”

“Do you want to stay the night?” he asks, not looking at me. His eyes scan the screen of his laptop, analyzing the menu choices. I swallow another sip of water.

“Can I? I was thinking I could stay for dinner and head back on the train.”

“No,” he blurts out, snapping his eyes up to me. “Stay. You can take a shower and put your clothes in the washer. They’ll be done by the morning. And I’ll give you something to wear. Do you still have your spare underwear in your bag?” He lifts his eyebrows, and I laugh.

“Yes. Learned that lesson already.” I lick my finger and tick off an invisible “one” in the air. My freshman year, I crashed in so many different places that I started carrying an extra pair of underwear in my purse, rolled up, and in a sandwich bag, so at least I could change into something fresh the next day. I sometimes slept over at Masa’s place or he at ours, and then there was Alex and a bunch of other friends I knew through Halley and Masa. I slept in beds that weren’t mine, on couches, even on the floor. College is awesome. College is the only place I’m comfortable enough to be moderately spontaneous, because I could always get home on the free campus bus if I needed to. I already miss MSU.

Masa returns his attention to his laptop. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want a pizza with chicken teriyaki on it or corn…”

“No. Absolutely not.”

He smiles and clicks a few times. “So just plain cheese and pepperoni. I’m going to shower first and change, then while you’re in the shower, I’ll run down to the Lawson’s to get us a few things and wait downstairs for the pizza delivery.”

I text with Halley on the couch while Masa showers.

“I’m at Masa’s apartment for the evening,” I type.

“Really? You guys finally together?”

“Ha. Clearly you’re thinking of someone else.”

“Still just friends? You must be joking.”

“I’m not, but he did say he loved me in a haiku today. Kinda. Not really. But it was something.”

“I’m not going to say anything. Lol.”

“I know. It’s pathetic.” I sigh at myself and stare at his paintings.

“Stop. You love who you love. Can’t help it.”

“How was your run today? It was so hot.”

“Awful. I had no idea summer here was going to be so muggy. Glad I’m here early.”

“Me too. Wish I could see you today.”

“I’m not going back outside! Lol. Staying in the a/c where it’s cool. And stretching and reading. My dad is bored as hell.”

“Sorry. Poor guy. If I had been available, he would only just be arriving now.”

“Which reminds me, is mom finally going to pay up?” she asks, and I wonder the same thing.

“Not yet. The last text I got from her told me how disappointed she is in me.”

“Don’t listen to her. You’re doing what’s right. I know it.”

“Gotta go. My turn to use the shower.” The running water sound abates, and Masa leaves the bathroom in a towel. I glance at him but blush and look away before we can make eye contact.

“You didn’t barge in on him in the shower? That was a missed opportunity.”

Halley then proceeds to send a bunch of heart and lurid emoticons.

“Stop! Lol. You’re crazy. Gotta go. I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to do our run on Friday. I may have to make up for time lost at the ryokan if my mom ever gives in.”

“That’s ok. Still on for Friday night izakaya?”

“Yes, and my cousin is coming too.”

“Great! Ttyl.”

The shower is the best way to end the day. I’m beat, so tired from being in the hot sun and from the panic attack in the morning. I want to stay in the steam all evening and forget there’s a hot guy in the apartment with me, a hot guy I’ve been in love with for almost two years, a hot guy who only thinks of me as a friend. I turn off the shower, wrap a clean towel around myself and peek out the cracked bathroom door. Masa is at the end of the hall, his glasses on, with a Lawson’s bag in his hand. He smiles at me, so I return the smile and close the door.

Awkward.

I dry myself, dress in my underwear and the t-shirt and boxer shorts he gave me to wear, gather my clothes from today, and open the bathroom door. Masa, his arms loaded with clothes too, meets me halfway down the hall.

“Here,” he says, taking my clothes and opening a closet across from the bedroom. Inside is a small efficiency washer dryer, the kind that steam dries clothes and takes forever to finish a cycle. He loads them in, adds detergent, and starts it up. “It’ll be ready in the morning. Your phone was buzzing while you were in the bathroom. More texts from your mom? You should have left it off.”

“Probably more texts to tell me how selfish I am.”

He touches my shoulder, but I brush past him to the living room, running my fingers through my wet hair. I hope it dries soon. The warm, savory smell of pizza punches me right in the stomach.

“Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Sure,” he says, heading to the kitchen and grabbing plates. I stand and stare out the window as the sun sets on Tokyo, another day here and gone.

“I was kinda spontaneous today.” I wrap my arms around my chest, giving myself a hug for being so brave. “I don’t remember the last time I just let things happen.”

“I’m glad you didn’t pass out earlier. I’m not sure I could have carried you anywhere.”

I laugh and take a plate with pizza from him. “I’m small. You could have done it.”

“You’re made of pure muscle, Isa. All that running, all those weekends you spent lifting weights at the gym with Halley, they have certainly paid off.” He scans my bare legs, and I break out in goosebumps.

“Yeah, well, it takes a lot of work,” I say, sitting on the couch and folding my legs under me at first before I think better of it and change to sitting cross legged. I should flirt and show off my body. Isn’t that what most women would do? Or should I hide it away and try to keep things platonic? He can now see my legs all the way up to my ass, and he does take one long look before biting into his pizza. Immediately, I’m washed over with guilt. I don’t know what to do, and I fear I’m only making things more difficult for Masa, not easier.

We eat in silence for a moment, Masa looking at me, and me looking back. It’s awkward and easy, difficult and familiar, strange and comforting, all at once. My emotions are in the washing machine, not my clothes, swishing around and mixed up, dragged under a soapy ocean of doubt.

Masa pushes his glasses back up his nose. He probably took out his contacts after his shower.

“Mind if I play video games?”

“Not if you provide beer.”

“Of course,” he says, jumping off the couch and getting us both a bottle. He picks out a game and slips the disc into the PlayStation, turning on the TV and receiver, and sitting down with a controller. He doesn’t even bother to ask me if I want to play. I never do.

“What have you been playing?” I nibble away at my crust and turn to bring my legs up on the couch, so I can set my beer on the floor next to me.

“This crazy Japanese world-building game. I picked it up in Akihabara my first week here and have been playing it ever since.” The screen flares to life with the sound of an orchestra tuning up. Masa navigates to his game and starts it. Already I can tell he’s put a lot of effort into the world he’s built. The layers of the game’s universe are several dozen deep.

“Is this all you’ve been doing since you came to Tokyo?” I sit forward and stare at the screen while sliding another slice of pizza onto my plate.

“Pretty much. This and painting and reading and working with you, obviously.”

I glance at him over the top of my slice, his eyes trained on the game, the make-believe world reflected on his glasses. It never occurred to me until now that Masa isn’t an extrovert. He’s always joked around with me, made friends with tons of other people, sang and played guitar for anyone who would listen, and once I even witnessed him reading poetry to a café full of eager listeners.

“You haven’t been going out at night? I imagined you were going to bars and clubs every night after our workday was done.”

He scoffs. “Isa, why would I do a thing like that?” His thumbs and fingers work away at the game, building a mountain that the little guy in the world can climb up to the clouds.

“I don’t know. To go out and meet people? Date?” I try to keep my face as straight as possible.

“Nah. Not really my scene.”

My throat closes up, making it hard to swallow pizza. Why is he staying home and not going out to enjoy his summer?

“Well, it looks like you’ve at least made great progress on your game. You may beat it soon and need to go back to Akihabara.”

He smiles, glancing at me twice, before pausing the game and turning to me.

“You know what I love about you?” he asks, his hand on my leg. The warmth of his skin on mine sends a blush straight up to my cheeks.

“What?” I mumble around a mouth full of pizza. I set my plate down and out of the way.

“You like me for who I am. Toni hated the video games, the soccer, the paint, and the guitar playing.”

“She hated the guitar? How can that be?” I pull my hands to my chest. “I love it when you play and sing.”

“Thanks.”

“Did she hate the haikus? Don’t tell me she hated them too?”

“She hated you, which is why we broke up.”

Silence. The air conditioning kicks on and blows a tide of goosebumps up my legs. Masa strokes his thumb over them.

“You’re the only person who has ever accepted me for who I am. My dad wanted me to be a dentist. My mom wanted me to go into finance. My younger sister thinks I’m a jerk because I get to go to Tokyo whenever I want.”

Masa stares straight ahead, the forgotten video game reflecting on his glasses. “When Toni said it was either her or you, I chose you. I would rather keep you as a friend than her as a girlfriend.”

Friend. There’s that ugly word again.

“I don’t know what to say except… I’m glad. I would be fucking sad if we weren’t friends.”

He nods, a small smile creeping across his lips. His eyes are cloaked in sorrow, though. “Me too.” He lifts his hand from my leg and returns to his game.

What did I expect him to say? That he broke up with Toni so we could go out? Maybe this is why the kiss I forced on him was so scary. I breeched a wall I shouldn’t have, yet he said he still wants me near him. I’m so confused.

I tuck my feet under his legs on the couch and lie back into the corner, letting my eyes drift to slits and sleep wash me away.

—-

I wake in the middle of the night, the living room cold and dark but for the light above the stove in the kitchen. Under my head is a pillow, and a blanket covers me. I rub my eyes and try to recall what happened before I fell asleep. The pizza box is gone, as is my beer that was on the floor next to me. Instead a water bottle sits in its place. I sit up and wrap the blanket around my shoulders, rising carefully so I don’t fall over. I look around for my phone but can’t find it. Knowing Masa, he plugged it in for me.

I tiptoe down the hall to the bedroom and push the door open all the way. A fan is purring in the corner, keeping the room cool and drowning out any city sounds. Masa’s discarded shirt is in a lump on the floor, and he lies in the bed, dead asleep, his arm thrown over his head. I glance back at the couch. I should sleep on the couch, but I’d rather sleep in a real bed, even if to do so would invade Masa’s space. Not only that, but it’s presumptuous, like he’ll wake in the early morning, see me, and want me.

My body clenches as I imagine him over me and shirtless.

Go back to the couch, my brain shouts at me. Shut up, brain.

I quietly pad into his room and to the opposite side of the bed. Masa is a deep sleeper, the kind of sleep one can master in a dorm full of rowdy boys. He often sleeps through his alarm, causing him to be late to class or to meet me in the mornings. I’m sure I can slip into bed and not wake him. I drape the blanket at the foot of the bed, lift the covers, and slide in next to him. I freeze as his breathing shifts from deep sleep to lighter sleep. He rolls over, his back to me. Perfect.

I snuggle into the warm space he left behind, and pressing my cheek against his back, I sigh and close my eyes.

What the hell am I doing? I’m so lost and confused unless I’m with Masa, and I’ve been in love with him for so long I’m not even sure I could love anyone else. One minute he’s touching me lightly, holding my hand or taking care of me, then the moment is gone and we’re back to being friends. I want this to be more than friendship, but if I push, will I lose him?

I’m not even sure what I want out of life. I thought I’d spend the summer reconnecting with my family in Japan and exploring the country, readying myself to return home and conquer two majors, not running errands, helping tourists find gifts for their families, getting yelled at by the local fishmonger, and folding laundry until my eyes bleed. I thought I’d email and text with Masa on the other side of the world and get a break from him so I could decide what to do about our friendship.

I inhale and remember the way he smells when I’m this close to him, how it makes my body churn with desire I don’t know what to do with. Well, I know what to do with it. After Alex taught me some good lessons about my own body, I figured it out. Thank goodness Halley had a predictable schedule and slept over at other people’s dorm rooms plenty of weekends. I just can’t do anything with it right now. My face heats and I blow out a steady breath to keep the arousal away. I close my eyes and wish for sleep.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

My eyes fly open to an empty bed in a brightly lit room. I roll over and squint against the glare from the window. It’s morning in Tokyo. I lie back down and look at the clock. 8:36am. My phone is on the bed next to me, and when I hit the home button, a text from Masa waits in the notifications.

—-

“Isa in my bed

Soft white skin and sound asleep — 

Gone to get coffee.”

—-

I read it twice and am more confused than I was when I went to sleep. He found me in his bed, asleep, and what? He noticed me, my skin, and wrote a haiku. Why can’t he just come out and tell me if he wants to be more than friends?

Why are men so fucking frustrating?

My phone buzzes again, but this time it’s a phone call. I lift the phone up from the bed, and my grandpa’s name is on the screen.

“Isa-chan, you didn’t come home last night.”

I cringe at my own irresponsibility. “Yeah, sorry, Grandpa. I decided to stay in the city at Masa’s. I meant to call but I fell asleep.”

He laughs on the other end. “You’re a big girl now, Isa-chan. You don’t have to check in with us, but it would be nice if you did.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll remember next time.” I pull the covers up to my chin and push my head into the pillow.

“Well, your mother has relented. She got calls this morning from the baker and the new fishmonger you contracted, and she called and told me to put you on a salary. I have persuaded her to pay you well, with back pay to the beginning of the month. We’ll give you cash until we can figure out how to put money in a bank account for you.”

“Okay.” I pump my fist in the air. Victory! “I can put the money on one of those robot cards you can get in the subway so I’m not carrying around a lot of cash.”

“That’s a good idea. So you’ll come in today?”

The door to the apartment clicks open in the other room, so I throw off the covers and walk to the living room. “Sure. We can be in today. Masa just brought back coffee.” I point to my phone and smile. “We’ll have breakfast and take the train in.”

“Great. See you later.” Grandpa hangs up the phone.

“Your mom finally came through?” Masa asks, setting down the coffee cups on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, back pay all the way to the beginning of the month!” I throw my arms around him, squeeze him in my grip, and relish the warmth of his body. He was outside in the heat while I was inside in the cold air conditioning. Remembering how excited I was last night, my nipples stand up in protest, but I don’t care. I pull away enough to rise to my tip-toes and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for taking me out yesterday. It was a lot of fun.”

He smiles and kisses me on the forehead, and I concentrate on his lips on my skin. “My pleasure.”