Summer Haikus – Chapter 34

“What?” he asks, pulling back from me. His eyes widen in the dim glow of the last fireworks.

“Oh my god, I’m so in love with you.” Tears fall down my face, staining round drops on my yukata. “I’ve been in love with you for ages, and this is the worst timing ever.”

Grabbing my hand, he tugs me closer. “What do you mean you’re staying in Japan?”

“My mom is getting married to Kosho, and they’re giving me the ryokan. Giving it. To me! I told them they’re crazy to want to give it to a twenty-year-old girl, but that’s what they want to do.”

“What?” he says again, running his hand through his hair. “No, no, no. We just… we just got together! We’re supposed to have lots of time together before anything happens.”

I step to him, grabbing the front of his shirt. “We can. We can have lots of time together. Stay. Stay in Japan here with me.”

“Isa,” he pleads, “I can’t. I have one more year left.”

“Sure you can. I’ve got it all planned out. You can stay and go to Geidai, like you wanted to. And I’ll work at the ryokan and go to school, and I thought we could save up to get an apartment together.”

Masa stays silent, watching me with widening eyes.

“I think you could even live with me at my grandparents’. They love you almost as much as I do.”

“This is crazy.” His voice growls, angry and unbelieving. He points his index finger at me. “You can’t plan my life for me like this.”

“Why not?” His open hostility sets off warning bells in my head.

“Because it doesn’t work that way. I have my own life, my own goals.” I search his face but his eyes are trained on the ground, flicking back and forth. “This is why you asked me all those questions the other day, what I want out of life, what I want to do with myself. How long have you known about this?”

I bite my lip and consider lying. “Since Friday afternoon.”

“Friday afternoon?” he yells, and a few people whip around and look at us. He walks away from me and back.

I smile and shush him so no one thinks anything bad is going to happen. “I didn’t tell you right away because we fought. Listen to me.” I tug on his sleeve. “We could totally make this work. I’m sure of it.”

“Stop manipulating me.” He shoves my hands off his sleeve, and I stumble back. “Why do girls always want to play me?”

Oh shit. My lower lip quivers. “I’m not manipulating you.”

“Yes you are. Just like Toni. Get me to go along with your plans so you can take advantage of me? I can’t believe you’ve known about this for days, and you’ve been lying to me. You’ve planned everything out without me, and now you just expect me to go along with it? I don’t get a say?”

“No. That’s not how it is!” I swipe at the flood of tears from my eyes. “I swear.” I reach for him, but he steps away from me, confusion and anger rippling across his face.

My brain tells me to do one thing.

Run.

I listen, turn, and bolt through the crowds away from Masa.

“Stop! Isa!” Masa yells, but my feet have minds of their own, and when they say go, the rest of my body follows along. My sandals slap at the pavement, dodging between people left and right, around little kids with sparklers and past ryokan employees shouting my name. I have only one goal: get home as quickly as possible so no one else sees me. My feet burn in the sandals, but I keep going, maintaining a sprinter’s pace for most of the way home. If I had a buzz going from the beer at dinner or the sheer joy of hearing that Masa is in love with me, it’s gone, everything around me in sharp focus from the adrenaline filling every artery and vein.

When it comes to fight or flight, I always choose to run like hell.

I slow down a block from home, slip into the front garden and pause to catch my breath, while I shuffle through my purse for my keys. It’s not late and I doubt Grandpa is home from the ryokan yet. A light is on in the second story, which means Grandma is awake. She may have watched the fireworks from the balcony.

The door beeps when I come in, so there’s no disguising I’ve come home early from what was supposed to be a date night. I lean into the mirror in the entry hallway and try to wipe up my face from the tears and sweat before going upstairs to face the questioning.

“Isa-chan, you’re back so early —” Grandma stops, her mouth dropping open as she sets down her wine glass and book she was reading. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” She looks me over from head to toes, stops, and gasps. “Your feet are bleeding. What happened?” She directs me to one of the kitchen chairs and runs off to the bathroom. I stare off into space.

Masa thinks I’m like Toni. Toni who stole money from him and used him. How could he even think that? After all we’ve done and been through together as friends?

“Isa!” Grandma leans into my face, and I snap back. “You better start talking now,” she says in English.

“We went out for dinner and had a wonderful time. Then at the fireworks, Masa told me he loves me.” I let my chin fall to my chest and cry. Grandma sprays my foot with antiseptic and I hiss from the sharp pain. My feet are all torn up from the straps. They were not meant for running. “I told him I’m staying in Japan to take over the ryokan, and he flipped out. I tried to convince him to stay here with me, but he… he accused me of… manipulating him.” My voice breaks, sounding more like a four-year-old than someone five times that age.

“Oh honey,” — she grasps my hands and squeezes them — “nothing could be further from the truth. I know how much you love him.”

“I do. I do.” I nod my head, jerking motions up and down that send tears flying everywhere. “I just want him to be happy.”

“I know.” Grandma lets me lean forward and cry into her shoulder. She pats my shoulder and rubs my back, reminding me of Mom when I had troubles at school or with friends, before she left for Japan. She’s going to be home again in a few days. I’m going to be sad to tell her what happened with Masa, but she’ll be happy I’m staying. If I’m going to focus on one thing, I should try to keep my family happy even though my heart is so broken, I’m not sure it’ll ever go back together properly again.

“You should go upstairs, get into your pajamas, and come watch TV with me. I would suggest a hot bath, but I think your feet will sting.”

I nod in agreement, too tired to argue with anything. She secures a bandage on my foot and nudges me towards the stairs. I trudge up them slowly and dump my bag on my futon, yanking the obi out of its bow and releasing my belly from the constant constriction. Even with the yukata open, my chest is so tight I can barely breathe, so I count to ten, methodically wiping every horrible thing Masa said from my brain. It doesn’t work.

I pluck a t-shirt from the pile of clean laundry and slip on a pair of shorts as the doorbell rings downstairs, echoing up through the house. Opening my bag, I pray there’s a text or phone call from Masa. Please, don’t let this be the end.

I press the home button, and the only texts are from Halley. A tear rolls from my nose and splashes on the screen, but I turn off my phone. I can’t talk about this now.

Looking at the space I’m about to commit to live in for the next three to five years, I wonder how I can make it mine. I want a real bed, a place to put my clothes, a desk… I sit down on the futon and stare down at my feet. I’m always planning when I should be assessing what I did wrong with my current decisions.

The stairway up to my loft creaks, the weight of feet climbing it jostling me out of my own head.

“I’ll be right down, Grandma.”

I turn around and Masa stands on the top stair.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my mouth dropped open.

“Sorry it took me so long to catch up. You’re a much faster runner than I am.”

“I didn’t expect you to follow me.”

“I figured as much when you took off.” He sits down next to me and stares at my feet too, broken and bleeding as they are. “But I’m not in the habit of letting my dates run away from me, especially if I just told her that I love her.”

“I’m so sorry.” I shake my head slowly from side to side. “So, so sorry. I am. Really.”

“Shhh. I’m sorry. I should get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. I don’t know why I accused you of manipulating me.” He glances over at the photos of us up on the wall, our first real date and it wasn’t even that long ago. “Halley ran up on me after you took off and told me more about the ryokan, and she said you’ve been in love with me for two years. That you used to come home from seeing me and Toni together and stare at the ceiling for hours.” He sighs, and I squeeze my hands together to relieve my embarrassment, hearing my Masa-weakness from his very own lips. “That there was no way you would ever hurt me. I hate myself right now because you’ve never been anything but devoted, and I don’t deserve you.”

“I only want you to be happy. I’ve listened to your haikus and guitar playing for the last two years. I’ve seen the way you handle the most delicate things. You want to create art and I want that for you —”

“I know,” he interrupts. “I thought about that the whole walk here. How you kept asking what would make me happy, what I wanted, and you’re right, I do want those things. But my dad pays for college, and art is so far out of the question, it might as well be in space. He thinks artists are bums that feed off their families forever. I once mentioned Geidai to him, and he called it a hippie school.” Masa laughs but shakes his head as a frown replaces his smile. “I have to go back to MSU. I don’t have options like you do.”

I grab a tissue and dab at my eyes. “I’m sorry I won’t be with you back at State, to see you do all those things I love. I can’t pass this up, though, you see? I don’t have much of a future after graduation. What am I good at? Japanese and planning.”

“You’re good at the ryokan,” he says, reaching over and taking my hand. “It’s in your blood, and I want you to take it. There’s no better opportunity.”

I nod, sad we’ve come to the point where we know we’ll go our separate ways.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks, rubbing his thumb over mine.

“You can stay with me as long as you like. I’ll never turn you away.” My heart aches as he leans in and kisses me softly, the kind of sweet tenderness I love from him. It’s the same way he loves art, wholly and without thought, with his heart.

What I really should do is break things off with him now before we fall too far into love with each other. We should phase each other out and stop spending time together, but I just can’t. I can’t.