Summer Haikus – Epilogue

Two Years Later…

“Keep your eyes closed, Isa.”

“Fine.” I huff and wait in the car as Masa comes around to my side. I’m not sure I’ll ever be used to the cab doors that open and close on their own, but in this case, I’m not stepping anywhere with my eyes closed. “You know how much I hate surprises, right?”

Masa’s warm hand grips mine and pulls me from my seat to the sidewalk. A cool, fall breeze whips past me, and I clutch my sweater around my shoulders.

“Okay, now,” he says, as the car speeds away from the curb. I open my eyes on a small three-story apartment building, each unit with its own outdoor deck.

“What are we doing here?” I glance left and right and don’t recognize any of the landmarks around us, a grocer on the corner and a busier street two blocks over with shopping and izakayas.

“We’re going to check out our new apartment.” He grasps my hand in his and tugs me along the alley between the buildings to the back, where a rack of bikes and garbage cans sit at the property’s edge. He uses a key to open the glass door into a modest entrance with mailboxes and then leads me up a set of stairs.

“Really? You got us an apartment without asking me?” I blink my eyes at him on the landing outside of an apartment on the top floor.

“You told me to take care of it!” His face falls before I smile and chuck him on the shoulder.

“I did. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“Ha ha, Isa.”

He opens the door to a small genkan, the place to put your shoes. A full, modern bathroom is off the main hallway, but the common room beyond catches my eye. The floor is dressed in new tatami and our balcony looks down over the street where I just was standing. The opposite wall houses the kitchen, and I use the term loosely. No oven and only two burners, but the fridge is a decent size and everything is new. Even the room smells of new paint.

“Wow. This is actually a good size for a Tokyo apartment.”

“I know,” he says, sweeping his hand over the common space. “It was renovated last month. Bedroom…” He points at the sliding door. I open the door and the room is another blank space with tatami mats and a closet door to store a futon, nothing else. I nod my head. I knew I was going to get a tiny apartment one day. I’m thankful the shower is not in the kitchen.

“This is great.” I thread my arms around his waist and hold him.

We’ve both worked really hard the last two years to get here. Between my hours at school and working at the ryokan, we only have so much time together. Masa spends most of his days either at school or at the ryokan, but we’re always busy. Some nights he stays with me at my grandparents’ and other nights I spend in his apartment in Akasaka, but we can’t do it all the time.

My heart grows a whole size imagining living with him. “We could buy a kotatsu.” This is a heated floor table that’s perfect for cold winters, and I love them now that I’ve braved two Tokyo winters.

“Yessssss.” Masa’s shoulders fall. “I love those things.”

“And maybe another table over here for our computers…”

“And a spot to make posters…”

My sign making is a daily chore now, all of the YouTube videos spiraling out of control. Viral doesn’t even come close to explaining my view numbers, and advertising is working well on my channel. Still, I work hard to produce new videos twice a week with everything else I’m doing. Plus, there’s still running. Halley will be here in a few weeks for another race. I can’t wait to see her.

“Where are we, anyway?” I stop at the sliding doors to the balcony and gaze out on the neighborhood.

“Kugayama. It’s about a fifteen minute bike ride from here to the ryokan. Or you can take the train one stop to Mitakadai and walk, or there are buses. Your choice. Only one more semester till I graduate so it’s not too bad.”

“And then the studio.”

“Yeah.” His face widens in a smile. Masa is forming a studio with other art students from school. His paper making skills are amazing, so finely crafted, and with a website and demand for artisan goods in Europe and America, he’s poised to do well. To add to his bank account, he started copywriting on the side, and the ryokan sponsors his visa so he can do anything.

“It’s perfect. Let’s sign the papers.”

“Already done,” he says, his face flattening into seriousness. “It’s ours. We own it.”

“What? I don’t remember giving you money.”

His cheeks color as mine do, suddenly uncomfortable in strange circumstances. Masa is a model student, a loyal and wonderful partner, but I’ve never known him to be detail-oriented about our life. I usually take care of all the plans. As it should be.

“My parents sold the apartment in Akasaka, sight unseen, to some wealthy European that paid three times the asking price.”

“Holy shit,” I blurt out and laugh. “Good for them.”

“And when I told them I was going to marry you, they bought this for us as a wedding gift. It was a steal compared to the Akasaka place.”

My vision tunnels and chest tightens. All of the blood leaves my head, and I whisper, “Marry?”

“Oops.” Masa rushes forward to catch me in his arms before I fall over. “I thought this might happen. I brought juice.” He sets me on the floor, pushing my head down between my knees as he rummages in his bag for a juice bottle.

“Masa,” I gasp out, panting between my knees, “do you mean it?”

“I do.” He runs his hand from my back, down my arm to my hand, where he places the bottle of juice. “Marry me, Isa. Staying here in Tokyo with you was the best decision I ever made. Let’s live here, get married, do the whole thing our way. We deserve it.”

I smile and sip at the juice when he nudges me.

“I love it,” I say, glancing around the empty room and imagining it ours. “And I love you. Sure,” I say, shrugging my shoulders, “let’s get married.” I’m trying to be funny and nonchalant, but I’m so happy I could run a marathon.

He lets out a breath of relief and kisses me on the lips.

“Do I get a ring?” I ask, and I laugh when he does.

“You’ll have to take care of that. I’m only good with paper.”

“Sounds like a deal. My plan finally worked,” I whisper, resting my head on his shoulder.

He laughs, his lips quirking to the side. “I guess you can plan love after all.”