Summer Haikus – Chapter 33

Tanabata comes to Japan on a busy Tuesday. While working during the day, I take a few breaks to jump on my phone and research what Tanabata is all about. This holiday takes place on the seventh day of the seventh month of every year, so says Wikipedia. It’s often called the Star Festival, based on the legend the holiday observes about two lovers in the sky separated by the Milky Way. This is the one day every year those separated stellar lovers can meet, and the Japanese celebrate with street fairs, food, and fireworks in the evening. I can probably expect very full streets, some games to play, and being jostled about the whole time. I can handle that.

The city is frantic, people streaming past the ryokan front doors all day long in yukata, laughing and calling to each other. Throughout my shift, I cover for people leaving to enjoy the fun, but Grandpa comes in around six with my yukata and obi in a bag.

“Special delivery for you! Aunt Yoshiko brought this by for you today.”

“Yay!” I clap my hands and peer into the bag. “I’m glad she has an online store. I picked it out on her website, and she said she would drop it off when she was visiting Grandma.”

Grandpa follows me into the office.

“Isa-chan, have you given any thought to what we talked about last week?”

“Given it any thought? It’s all I’ve been thinking about.” I take a deep breath and lift my head. “I want to stay, but I’m worried about school and tuition and where I’ll live and how I’ll get by.” My breathing rhythm becomes short and shallow, and Grandpa’s eyes widen. He clutches my shoulders and tips his head down to look me in the eyes.

“It’s okay. You have time to work those details out. Your mom is being discharged from the hospital this week, and she’ll be back home for a while before moving out to Kofu. You can talk to her about any of your worries. Hopefully you’ll be able to figure something out. We want you to stay. We want you to have this ryokan and keep it in the family. So we’ll help you with anything you need to get you to a place where you’re comfortable.”

I nod and try to smile but keep my mouth shut since I want to keep my stomach down in my belly where it belongs.

“I’m most worried about school and my dad. What will he say when I tell him I’ve decided to live in Japan? I still haven’t called him. I’ve been dreading it.”

Grandpa looks away, running his hand over his thinning hair. “I spoke to your dad last week. He was… not happy at first. But when I told him we would take over your school funding, he became more amenable.” He sighs. Why does my life always come down to money? “We’re willing to pay for school, pay you a salary, and help you get visas to stay here.”

“Work visas? I never thought about that.”

“There’s a lot to do, a lot of work involved in keeping you here. After ten years of living here, you can apply for permanent residency as well. Plus, we must consider American and Japanese taxes and many other things.”

It’s hard to believe so much red tape will be involved with me staying in Japan, even if I’m half-Japanese. But I’m American and I was born in Michigan. If I stay, will I ever truly fit in here? Or will I feel like a foreigner, like a gaijin, my entire life?

I glance at the bag on the couch in the office and realize I don’t even know how to wear a yukata! The last time I wore one I was in my early teens and my mom tied the obi for me so swiftly, I never even noticed how the bow was made. She tugged and folded the fabric like her movements were instinctual, built into her DNA.

“I need help with the yukata,” I blurt out, laughing.

Grandpa throws his head back and laughs with me. “I think you should ask one of the ladies for help with that. Men have it easy these days. They make our obi with elastic in it now.” He winks and leaves the office, and I poke my head out of the door to find Reiko alone at the front desk.

“Reiko, can I get some help with my yukata? I swear I’ll learn how to wear these things soon.”

She bows, locks the computer, and shuffles to me in the office. Her yukata is bright pink with cherry blossoms and a navy blue obi, and she’s wearing wooden flip-flops. I always thought they looked uncomfortable but she wears them easily, like it’s a part of her DNA. I hope to have the same poise and confidence in my Japanese surroundings someday.

“This is pretty!” Reiko holds up the purple and white yukata I bought. “Here. You can wear your underwear and tank top underneath.” She lays out the red and white obi on the couch while I slip on the yukata. In a way, I’m vaguely patriotic in red and white, both the colors of the Japanese flag and most of the American flag too. I close the yukata over my chest, left over right. Always left over right. My mother used to say I could remember this by saying, “Leftover rice,” while getting dressed, and it works every time.

Reiko smiles as she polishes off a perfect obi bow on my back. With the yukata and sandals, I think I look pretty cute! I smile, sliding my fingers down along the collar and inching it into a straight line.

My phone rings on the desk, and I hustle over to answer it.

“I’m here!” Halley yells. Shit. She’s early.

“You’re here here? Or at the station? Hold on a second.” I mute the phone and bow to Reiko. “Thank you so much. I was hopeless, and sure I’d have to watch videos on YouTube to do it myself.”

She blushes and bows back. “It’s not a problem, Isa-san. Have a great night.”

“You too.” She has the night off and Grandpa is covering for us both until the night manager comes in at eleven. The night manager is someone I hardly see, and we have two of them on alternating schedules.

I un-mute the phone. “Sorry. I’m back.”

“I’m wandering that street over next to the park. It’s crawling with people, but don’t worry about making it here quickly or anything. Tomo is with me.”

Halley giggles and says something in Japanese I don’t catch, and Tomo replies. My mouth opens to respond, but I can’t think of a damned thing to say. So I laugh, which is the only reasonable thing to do.

“What’s so funny?” She laughs too.

“Nothing. You. Flirting. Again.”

The pitch of the street sounds change and she whispers loudly, “He’s a doctor, and he’s hot. What more could I ask for?”

I sigh, holding the phone away from my face. “Your dad is going to kill you if you get distracted this close to the race. The race, Halley.”

“I know I know. Now stop and come find us. See you soon!”

She hangs up, and I laugh again as I drop my phone into a shoulder bag and exit the office.

“What are you laughing at?”

I run into Masa by the front desk and nearly trip over my feet. He’s wearing dark indigo blue jinbei, which is a loose kimono-like top with big sleeves, and long matching shorts underneath. The top closes with ties on the side — much easier to get in and out of than my clothes and also looks to be about as comfortable as pajamas. Men have it easy.

“You look so cute.” He kisses my cheek, and I blush, my face bursting into flames because my grandpa is standing right there.

“Masa, stop,” I mutter under my breath. I glance at Grandpa, and he’s smiling at us both, but I detect a note of sadness in his eyes, like he knows I’ll be giving up Masa if I decide to stay. Well, not if things go according to plan.

—-

We meet up with Halley and Tomo along the downtown area of Kichijōji. We stay on the south side of the train tracks so we can be close to Inokashira Park when it’s time for fireworks and pop in and out of the tiny eateries and bars in the back alleys. It was only a year or two ago the city started Tanabata fireworks here, mainly because the area gets much more traffic now that the Olympics are coming up, and the lake in the park means they can shoot off good sized fireworks. We eat yakitori chicken from street vendors and takoyaki, octopus and batter cooked into balls and served on sticks. Halley spots a small izakaya open with a few seats available at the bar.

“Oh thank goodness,” she says, slipping into a seat next to Tomo. Masa sits down on the other side of me. “I don’t want to beat up my feet tonight.”

I glance down at her leather sandals and her feet are fine. No worries.

We order beer and more food, and the woman working behind the bar hands us sheets of paper and pencils.

“Write your Tanabata wish on these and then tie them up to the tree outside.” She smiles and nods her head, pointing towards the front door where a couple are tying their wishes to branches on a potted tree dripping with paper pieces dancing in the summer breeze.

I bite my lip and contemplate this special wish, my pencil poised over the note. I’m not going to write it in Japanese, so I lean forward over the paper and write, “A long life with my love by my side.” I nod and press the piece of paper to my chest. Masa glances over, and I let him peek at it. He smiles and shows me his. “Freedom to make my own choices.” A good wish. Probably better than my romantic one.

“I think our wishes are mixed up,” I say, stepping away from my chair. “You’re usually the romantic one, not me.”

“Maybe I’m rubbing off on you,” he replies, following me. We tie up our wishes outside and head back in as beer and food are delivered to our spot.

The izakaya crowd and music blur around us as we eat, laugh, and talk for over two hours. Tomo is a pleasant and easy guy, a real contrast to bright and brash Halley. I had a feeling he would be kind and thoughtful, being a doctor and all that, and he did take care of my bleeding finger the day I decided to boycott work, so I don’t find him off-putting in the least. It’s different seeing him with Halley. They get engrossed in a deep conversation about medical schools back in the States and whether Halley should go on to med school or training or what after she graduates. A sharp pain rips through my chest when I realize I won’t be there to walk at graduation with her. I won’t be in the States for any more of her races, family dinners, or summers on Grosse Ile.

I pick at a plate of tempura vegetables, my appetite vanished like the summer breeze outdoors.

“What’s the matter?” Masa asks me, poking me in the ribs with his elbow.

“Nothing.” I pop some food in my mouth before I get too mired in my own thoughts. “Let’s finish up so we can go to the park for the fireworks.”

He eyes me for a moment, but I smile and ease away his tension. I should really tell him. I’m staying, aren’t I?

We pay and head over to Inokashira Park, close to the lake so we can get a good spot for the fireworks. I love the streets of Kichijōji, the gray brick sidewalks and narrow spaces filled with hidden gems like the burger joint or the café or the place that specializes in omurice, omelettes over rice. I take out my phone and capture some photos of Masa and me, smiling and posing in our traditional summer wear.

I hold up my camera and switch to video. “Masa, tell me about Japanese fireworks.”

“Hmmm,” he says, the camera’s light bouncing off his face. “Fireworks in Japanese is hanabi which translates to flowers of fire, or fire flowers. They do look like that in the sky, right? In fact, most of the fireworks are named for flowers, including the chrysanthemum, Japan’s national flower. There are hundreds of Japanese summer festivals all over the islands and a bunch of famous fireworks displays to attend. It’s one of my favorite parts of summer.”

I stop recording and jump at Masa, throwing my arms around his neck. “Thank you for always humoring me and showing me a good time.” He hugs me close, his arms wrapped around my chest. Over his shoulder, I can see Halley and Tomo are down the lakeside from us, talking to people who must be Tomo’s friends.

Boom! The chest shaking noise hits us as the sky alights. The audience gathered around the lake gasps at once and begins to cheer as bright, bursting balls of red, white, pink, and green fireworks erupt in the sky above us.

I train my camera on the display. “Oh wow! Look at that,” I cry, as one firework sets off three stages of other smaller colors. They explode and reflect on the water, sizzling down in tiny streamers. After a minute, I put my phone away and tip my face up to watch, Masa’s arm clutching me to his side.

“Isa,” he whispers, his breath heady in my ear.

I turn to face him, the red and white fireworks lighting up his face. He smiles at me, leans down, and presses his lips to mine, sweeping me up into his embrace, his lips kissing every part of mine, little pecks before taking me in, stealing my breath and weakening my knees. This is a kiss of possession, and I’m lost in Masa, knowing that we’ve come so far together, from strangers to friends to lovers.

He pulls away and presses his forehead to mine. “I love you, Isa. I’ve loved you for so long, and I wanted to tell you the other night when we slept together, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

I blink my eyes, unable to process anything, the fireworks booming over my head, the cheer of the crowd, and Masa’s hands on my face.

“Do you remember last winter when we got the first big snowfall?”

I nod, unable to pull my eyes from his.

“You were at my place studying and couldn’t make it home. So I dragged you outside for the snowball fight. I’ll never forget how much you laughed and cheered as snowballs came raining down on us. And then you were soaked, so you borrowed my sweats and fell asleep while watching DVDs of Friends. That was the night I fell in love with you, watching you sleep in my bed, all curled up. I wanted you before that night, but I don’t know — something changed then.”

“I… I…” My brain is stuck on a loop. Masa loves me. Masa loves me. Me. My heart stops as I open my mouth to tell him I love him too, but he drags the pad of his thumb across my lips, yellow and pink light from the fireworks finale bathing us in shimmers.

“I can’t wait to be back at school with you all year. I’ll have my own room in my apartment with Shrikant. It’ll be great. So much freedom. I hope you’ll spend lots of nights in my bed.”

Tears creep into the corners of my eyes, and I can’t hold it in anymore.

“I’m not coming back to MSU. I’m staying in Japan.”