Act IV
Kazu and I have a nice and long talk that evening after tucking Yuki into bed. When I was a bit younger, planning the future used to come with a mixture of fear and excitement (mostly the latter), but now this time, it comes with a huge sense of relief. It's a comfort to learn that we both are on the same wavelength.
A few days pass, and I feel recharged. I consider the future of my career. I have a secret from the world. I may have removed myself from the entertainment industry, but I have certainly not taken music out of my life. I've kept practicing on my own, and I've been working on creating my own music. Kazu is my greatest supporter. He's always hinted that I should go back out into the public and show them what I've been doing. I've always ignored those hints. But now... Now I might consider it. I don't want to make a big deal about it, but it would be nice to show where I've managed to go since quitting the business.
On Saturday, Kazu has a day off. Yuki goes off to play with her second cousin, so Kazu and I go for a long walk in the park. We stop for ice cream and eat it by a tiny pond filled with carp. Then we continue on our way, no plan in mind.
We walk along a small path wide enough only for two. I notice another couple in the distance coming towards us, so I make a note to remember to move out of the way when we cross paths. What I don't make a mental note of is what to do in case it's Miki, and of course (because my life is full of silly twists of fate) it happens to be Miki and that man I saw with her at the Korean restaurant.
I notice this when they are about three metres away. I look up and simply don't believe what I see. Miki is hanging off of Korean restaurant man's arm and laughing till she's crying about something. This is the second time I've seen her crying in the past few days, although these tears are brought on not by sorrow. The last time I saw her crying out of distress was ten years ago.
She looks up, her eyes lock with mine, and then it's clear that we're in a whole load of something that is not shaping up to be pleasantly fragrant like fresh roses.
I stop. She stops. Kazu looks at her. I look at Kazu. He recognises her. Miki looks at Kazu. She looks at the man she's with. I look at the man she's with. He does not show any sign of recognition. He looks at Kazu. He looks at Miki. Miki looks at me. I look back at her. She takes in a breath. Maybe she's going to say something.
Say "excuse me" and walk by. There's not even an acquaintanceship between the two of us.
"Friend of yours?" Miki's man asks, seeing the obvious flash of recognition between us.
Don't start. Please, I find myself begging desperately in my mind.
She's hanging off of his arm and they seem close, but if he doesn't know who I am, then I wonder how close they really are.
Also, have I really changed that much in ten years? Have people forgotten my face? He seems to be at an age where he should have known who I was growing up unless he was raised in a remote island village in Okinawa or a foreign country.
"Yeah," Miki says in a quiet tone. "Old co-worker."
The man looks at me a little more closely and understanding lights his eyes up. Now he recognises who I am. I guess he hasn't seen an updated photograph of me in years, much like the rest of the public. I've been largely forgotten. Three quarters of my old fans probably wouldn't notice me in a crowd.
"Long time ago," I add redundantly, speaking my first words.
There's a silence. I can feel Kazu beside me. Miki, Kazu, and I understand the tension in this situation. It seems as though this man Miki is with hasn't a clue. Miki has let go of his arm. The four of us stand as if locked in a face-off. The awkwardness doesn't come close to anything I've felt before.
"I'm Tabe. Nice to meet you," Kazu says suddenly, addressing Miki and the mystery man.
What are you doing?
"Oh. Sato Hiroshi. The pleasure's mine."
Now the man has a name. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I don't have time to think about it. My eyes lock with Miki's. She looks away.
"Fujimoto," Miki says simply to Kazu, and then gives him a trace of a smile to lighten the impact of her greeting. "I used to work with Aya-chan."
She gestures toward me with a brief flick of the hand. I cringe at my name being spoken by her. In a way it seems right that she still address me like that, but in another way she shouldn't even be using my name. It's strange. I should simple be "this girl" or "her". Not "Aya-chan" or "Matsuura-san".
"Yes. I've heard so much from Aya," Kazu says pleasantly, and for a moment I want to kick him.
Great. Now Miki can jump to conclusions and imagine what sort of a nasty picture I've painted of her.
Miki's reaction is no reaction at all. If she's upset to find out I've told Kazu things, she hides it well. No surprise there.
The tension is such that I can see the man named Sato starting to feel it. I look up at Kazu, who meets my gaze for a brief second before turning his head to Miki.
"Say, why don't you two go grab a coffee and catch up. I've got to go and attend to some business anyway," he says.
Oh my god. You are dead, Kazu. Dead. When we get home tonight, I'm going to beat you to a bloody pulp, drown your head in the toilet, fling you over the side of the balcony and-
"Oh, I don't want to take up any of your time," Miki says quickly, addressing me verbally but looking at Kazu.
However, her oblivious man (whose aggravatingly innocent role in all this reminds me briefly of a certain boy I used to date), pipes up.
"Yeah, why don't you two go on?"
I can tell from the way Miki's eyes narrow the slightest bit that she, too, wants to murder the man she's with.
Now wouldn't that make an interesting novel? Two girls with a complicated history reunite ten years later and murder their respective husbands, leading to a thrilling epic tale of two girls turned friends turned lovers turned enemies turned accomplices in crime over the course of over a decade. Racy. Unsettling. A page turner.
"I think-" I start.
"Excellent, then. It's settled," Kazu says, clapping his hands together and then turning to Miki. "It was nice to meet you."
And before I know it, the two boys have walked off, leaving me and Miki standing in the middle of a park on a sunny, warm day.
"What the hell, Hiroshi," Miki mutters under her breath.
I see she hasn't lost her particular charming self over the years.
I don't say anything to her. What do you say to someone you haven't seen in ten years? Someone who you used to be so close to but then was betrayed by? She doesn't say anything either. I wonder if guilt is eating at her.
"I'm sorry," she says suddenly, cutting into my thoughts.
For a second I think that she's apologising for ten years ago, but then she speaks some more.
"I didn't mean for us to get us into this situation."
It's not like she could have prevented it. We both happen to be strolling through the same park at the exact same time. We also both happen to have aggravating significant others.
We don't speak another word, and in silent agreement, we start to walk to an empty bench by the fountain. We sit down facing the water and both look forward.
Just as I've always thought. We have nothing to say to each other.
"So is that guy your husband?"
No. She doesn't deserve to ask that question. She doesn't deserve to know anything about my life now.
"Yes," I reply simply.
I'm too polite to avoid answering a straightforward question.
"What are you now? Tabe Aya?"
It sounds funny to hear her say that. Like she's tasted something peculiar and isn't quite sure what to make of it. Like tasting two fruits never before mixed together.
"Oh, no. I kept my name," I reply firmly.
"That's just like you," she comments with a small, genuine smile that seems out of place here.
And she would know, wouldn't she. I have to resign myself to the fact that despite her stupidity in the past, she knows my character well.
"What about you? Married?"
She shakes her head.
"Not yet. It's been a busy few years."
What has she been doing? I wonder.
Nothing to put her on billboards or television commercials is all I can figure out. It's amazing how even when you completely ignore the entertainment industry, you can know so much just from the everyday things you see pasted on every available surface in the city.
"What have you been up to?"
The part of me that doesn't want to talk to her is slowly diminishing. I'm extremely wary of what I say to her, but once faced with the beast, curiosity outweighs flight instincts, and I decide a little poking and prodding can't hurt.
She raises curious eyebrows at me.
"I suppose you don't read that magazine, then."
Enigmatic reply. She's been in a magazine recently? For what? Modelling? She's too old for that. She doesn't look it, but she can't get away with lying about her age since it's an easily checkable fact.
"Remember Shige-san? Sayu?"
Michishige Sayumi? A name I haven't heard in years. I nod.
"She's the head of the most famous girls' magazine in the country. Ever heard of Superbly? I work right beside her editing that."
I try not to let my jaw drop in surprise. Of course I've heard of Superbly. Nobody in Japan hasn't heard of it. I've never touched a copy, but I've seen the cover of it at stores since it started as a small, humble fashion magazine. To learn that Miki is some sort of high-ranking staff member of that magazine sends me into fits of disbelief. That's only half of the astonishment I feel to hear that Michishige heads the publication.
How could a dolt like Miki be an editor? Aren't editors supposed to be intelligent university graduates who are good at reading and writing and have an excellent command of the Japanese language? Aren't editors supposed to be... not like Miki at all? Where'd she get the smarts to do that sort of thing? Miki meeting deadlines while under strict management is fine because she's motivated by a natural aversion to punishment. But Miki meeting deadlines while being the management is impossible to believe. Simply impossible.
"Oh," I say aloud, hiding my true thoughts.
She looks at me. Peripheral vision allows me to see her eyes studying my face.
"You don't believe it, do you," she states.
I angle my head to return her look.
"But it's true. Some time in the past ten years I really grew up. Left that path of youth we used to walk down. It's far behind me now."
She really has changed. I can tell. She's still the same Miki, but she's done extraordinarily well for herself. Working as the sub-head of Superbly, living with a tall, handsome gentleman, and still looking not a day over twenty-five.
But as I look in her eyes closely now for the first time in ten years, I see something more there. Under the thick layer of good feeling rests a kind of uneasiness. It's probably brought out by my presence, but it seems something she's accustomed to.
"Are you happy?"
Maybe I'm bullying her with this question. Maybe I'm trying to wrest out some admission of misery from her.
Her look doesn't change at all.
"Yeah."
She sounds like she means it.
"Are you?" she shoots back.
I think over my life.
Am I happy?
Yes. Yes, I definitely am. I'm surrounded by people who love me and who I love back. That's what I've always needed and wanted.
"Yeah," I echo her reply.
But there's one thing I'm not happy about, and that's her. I realise that she represents my one failure in life. The one big one. She represents all my regret, because she's the only thing I truly regret. But not in the way one might think. I think if I never got to know her, I wouldn't be the person I am now, so I don't regret meeting her. Kazu is right. She was important. Was. I guess the thing that I regret is that it couldn't have worked out for the better or at least ended in a cleaner way. That maybe it was destined to happen this way, and nothing could stop that stupidity we went through. I regret that it happened, but understand that it had to happen. We had to carry it out to the bloody, painful conclusion.
"Have any regrets?"
More bullying courtesy of me. But I'm curious. That's all.
She shoots me a look.
Should I not go there? Or does she not mind and is just surprised?
"Don't we all?" she asks with a hint of acidity in her voice.
Well, I'd say I just struck a nerve. However, I don't feel so good about it. I need to stop before I become nasty, cruel.
I stand up, making it clear that I want this conversation to end soon.
"Well, I hope that you can get over them. No use worrying about the past anymore."
It almost sounds like forgiveness coming from me.
She stares down at the dirt.
"See you," I finally say after she doesn't reply.
I turn around to go, thinking that leavings things like this will be a lot better than how they've stood for the past ten years. I'm not refusing to acknowledge her and she's not begging for forgiveness.
"Aya," she calls out before I can leave.
Do I want to hear what she's going to say? I kind of don't. Her voice sounds a little anxious.
Don't say anything stupid, I beg her. Don't say anything awkward. Don't say anything to rehash a past that's done and over with and buried underneath heaps of rubble. And most of all, don't admit your undying love for me. Just let me walk away.
I stop and turn around, taking a few paces forward to the bench so that she doesn't have to broadcast her thoughts to the ravens that are puttering about nearby.
"I'm really sorry," she says quietly. "For everything."
This time, I know for sure that it's an apology for all that mess. I haven't heard one in ten years.
I've imagined this moment before. We meet again after many years and she apologises... and I snub her. I rub her bad deeds in her face, or I just ignore her words. I say something nasty to hurt her.
"It's okay. Don't worry anymore," I reply in the same genuine tone.
And then I give her a bit of a smile. Not a big one. Just a small, comforting one.
I am Ayaya, after all, and always will be no matter how much I grow up and remove myself from the period I used that name. Hatred doesn't suit me. Love does. Compassion does. It's time I remember that. If I can smile and forgive Miki, then my heart can be saved from becoming a bitter, vengeful organ that holds grudges that do nothing but fester and make me feel like a dreadful person.
I hope that she can tell I mean it. I want her to stop thinking about it. I don't want to see her or anyone suffer. The past is the past, after all, and I should make an example of taking my own advice.
I get a good look at her face before I nod goodbye and turn around to walk home. I'm conscious of every step I take. I half expect to hear footsteps come running after me, Miki asking in a roundabout and awkward way if we can be friends again. But I know deep inside that she won't do that. Before I turned around to leave, I saw in her eyes acceptance. I saw gratitude. And I saw understanding. We're not best friends again, and we can probably never be, of which I am ninety-nine point nine nice nine percent sure of that. I am sure she knows that, too. She knows that it's best to just leave things as they are: on the good side of neutral.
And if we see each other on the street again from this day on, we can exchange polite greetings and continue on our separate ways.
I have a feeling, though, that this isn't our last meeting. Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring, but the way things have always worked out in my life, twists of fate seem to rain down on me in sheets. If I decide to go back out into the public world, we might end up crossing paths at work. Regardless of the direction of my career, we might end up in the same line at the supermarket.
The past will never come back. Only our future will come. And it won't be nearly as shiny and ideal as the one we imagined together a decade ago. But that's okay. We have our other sources of happiness. Or at least I do.
I walk home no longer wanting to kill Kazu. I want to hug him and thank him. Not many people would do what he's done for me. Because of him, I've discovered that I'm able to forgive. That, I now know, is one of the most important things you can do with your heart. Now that I've written the final sentence of the book that's been unfinished and waiting for years to be concluded, I feel renewed, and after ten years of going through life as though swimming through molasses, I can now start living life at my normal, vibrant pace.
I stop once I'm far away enough, and I turn around. I can't see Miki, but I imagine that I can. In real life, I take a deep breath and hold it in to remember everything that has just happened before turning around and walking home; in my mind, I smile at her, wave bye-bye, and skip off cheerfully towards the horizon.