Chapter 2 Part 3 | Contents | Chapter 3 Part 1
July 6, 1991 (Heisei 3) – Saturday
It was bright and sunny on the day of Maja’s departure.
After classes ended just past noon, I decided to head home first before going out again. It would be some time until the farewell party, and the gift I wanted to bring was safely stored at home. I placed the gift, which was wrapped in decorative paper, into the front basket of my bicycle, then moved off towards the party venue, Kikui.
To get there, I rode along the Atotsu River. For a short while before reaching the city center, the river showed its bare form, untouched by the levee protection work. Yesterday’s rain, which lasted till this morning, was considerably intense, causing the river to be a little swollen today. I looked at my wristwatch to find that I didn’t need to rush just yet. My pedaling intentionally slowed down, but that was just a futile attempt to delay the passage of time.
The color of sunlight was starting to resemble summer, but the greenery-filled path that carried the scent of splashing water was still cool. As I absentmindedly gazed at the water surface, I spotted a young tree that had been uprooted and was now flowing down the river. I stopped to watch it float further downstream, periodically sinking and rising in the process. At the moment I felt that I’d witnessed the transience of a once-in-a-lifetime encounter, but on hindsight it was just a common, cliched sentiment.
The sense of powerlessness that I’d been assaulted by a few times before caught me in its grip again.
Come to think of it, when a high school student with no special talents like me gets involved in an incident, it is normal that they are far from it, either by time or distance. It is also the case for everyday things you would find on page three of a newspaper, as well as that unpleasant experience at the cemetery the other day, for example. No matter how I sugarcoat it, all I had there was the insouciance and guilt of an observer.
But this was different. The situation was still ongoing, and Maja was still in Fujishiba. But… I still couldn’t do anything. A strong force I couldn’t do anything about was bringing Maja back to Yugoslavia, and pushing me back down to being an observer. Even so, I didn’t want to give up yet and it should stay that way for the foreseeable future. If so, there weren’t many methods for me to choose from.
Putting some strength into my legs, I started pedaling again.
The traditional Japanese inn Kikui was a wooden two-story building that had its front yard paved with asphalt and turned into a car park. The wood here was black, similar to those used in Nakano Town. Though she was lodging here, Maja hadn’t asked about the blackness of the wood until Nakano Town, but that was probably because there hadn’t been anything else to compare it with.
Judging by the bicycle parked next to a sliding door that looked to be for household use, Fumihara had already arrived. I looked at my wristwatch again, and found that I was still early, despite having taken it easy midway. After parking my bicycle next to Fumihara’s, I picked up my gift, wondered if I should enter via the guest entrance or the household entrance, and eventually decided to ring the latter’s doorbell.
Shirakawa had mentioned to me that they were busy on Saturdays. That was probably why I had to wait for a while at the entrance. A few minutes later, a room attendant appeared, and let me in professionally, without a hint of ire for me having interrupted her work. I borrowed a pair of slippers and proceeded through a corridor, following the attendant’s guidance.
The attendant looked young. I asked her a question.
“Has everyone arrived?”
“By everyone, you mean…”
“Besides me and Izuru-san, another boy and another girl.”
“Yes, they are all here.”
So I was the last, huh. Everyone came early.
A covered walkway stretched out from the corner of the building, connecting it with the annex. From the walkway, I could see a cozy inner garden that brought to mind the phrase “fullness through simplicity”. There was a shishi-odoshi1, but it didn’t seem to be moving. Is that usually stopped? Well, it would be annoyingly noisy if it clacked around the clock.
I asked another question.
“Maja is working here, right?”
The attendant turned around, showing a faint smile.
“Yes, she was a good worker.”
“Are you sad to see her go?”
“Yes…”
But that was a half-hearted answer. Realizing that, she added another statement to smooth things over.
“But in places like this, people are constantly coming and going.”
I could hear joyous laughter from somewhere.
That laughter gradually grew louder as I continued following the attendant. I was led to a small banquet room in the annex. Based on the position, it should be facing the garden from earlier. With an “Alright, then,” the attendant took her leave. After getting a better hold on my gift, I placed a hand on the sliding door. The laughter must have come from here.
The door opened with a somewhat satisfying clack.
Cold air rushed out as the air conditioner growled.
Tachiarai, Shirakawa, Fumihara and Maja were sitting around a lacquered low dining table. It was set with sushi, sashimi prepared from live seafood, as well as a basket piled high with fruit. The sake seemed to have been opened already, and Shirakawa’s cheeks in particular were colored pink. Maja had also put on the hydrangea barrette today. Fumihara called out to me in an unusually loud voice.
“Oh, here comes Moriya the late! Three cups for the latecomer!”
I was utterly flabbergasted in more ways than one.
“You guys… what about the idiots who started before the appointed time?”
“Oh? But it’s already started, yknow?”
Shirakawa pointed at a clock in an elevated alcove. According to that, I was twenty minutes late.
“Something’s wrong with that clock, then. I’ve been following my watch for the entire day.”
With her back to the alcove was today’s guest-of-honor, Maja. She laughed in a high-spirited voice.
“Um, Machi-san set it forward just now.”
“Hey!”
Tachiarai looked unrepentant.
“Moriya-kun. Clocks are often disparaged as arbitrary and relative. Though it’d be a different story if your wristwatch is an onshi.”
She said something unreasonable with such a calm tone.
“Onshi? What is that?”
“In Japan, there’s a legend that if you’re wearing a watch given by a person of nobility, it’s fine even if you’re late.”
What an irresponsible thing to teach her. But wasn’t it quite out of character for Tachiarai to talk about legends? Or was she drunk already?
I stared them all down.
“…Also, what’s up with all this merrymaking? If it’s a farewell party, shouldn’t we be more serious and pensive?”
“Dumbass.”
I was hit by a concise yet powerful insult. It came from Fumihara. After draining the small bit of sake left in his cup, he slammed it on the table and glared at me.
“We’re merrymaking ‘cos we don’t want that.”
“Hmph.”
“Or are you gonna say that you prefer cups of water?”
I had no answer to that. Thinking about it, he was right. If we didn’t want to cry, all we could do was laugh.
But before that…
“Aren’t you all underage, though? You can’t just chug sake in the middle of the day!”
I pointed out, causing a small grin to form on Tachiarai’s face.
“Oh? Then I’m fine.”
“How?”
“I turned 19 yesterday.”
My eyes widened. Not from the fact that her birthday was yesterday, but because a third-year student wouldn’t normally be 19 years old if they progress through high school normally. Especially when I knew Tachiarai since we were first-year students.
“You’re 19? Why?”
Not minding my silly-sounding question, Tachiarai poured some sake for herself, then wet her lips.
“I was a ronin2 after middle school.”
“…You’re joking.”
“Eh, you didn’t know?”
“Even I knew that.”
Shirakawa and Fumihara responded in succession. Was this a sideshow for the party or something? But Tachiarai casually replied.
“Well, I intentionally didn’t mention it to Moriya-kun.”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
An indescribable emotion welled up within me, but I somehow managed to maintain my composure.
“Sure, you might be 19, but it’s still illegal either way3.”
Seemingly out of spite, Tachiarai gulped down her entire cup of sake before speaking.
“For a baby that is just born, the crime of drinking alcohol is infinite. From there the crime becomes lighter by an inverse curve until it reaches zero at 20 years old. In other words, the crime at 19 years old is infinitely close to zero, which is basically zero.”
“Mm, that is extremely interesting.”
No, don’t note that down. By that logic, wouldn’t that make 19 infinitely far removed from 20? But that wasn’t the main problem. I had an impulse to grab her by the shoulders, shake her and tell her to snap out of it. Like how a long-standing fanatic would complain about a new product not being true to the original, I wanted to yell that this wasn’t the true Tachirai. It must have been the alcohol. The alcohol must have made her go crazy.
As I held such harrowing thoughts, Shirakawa chimed in from the side.
“So what’s that gift in your right hand?”
“This?”
I held my head high with pride.
“It’s ‘Kouryuu’, a premium sake4 from Osakabe Brewery that will even hush a crying child.”
“What was yours again, Machi?”
“It’s ‘Donryuu’ from Hinode Brewery, also a premium sake. Our guest-of-honor for today wants to try sake, after all.”
Maja was all smiles.
“So we can try two different types of sake! That makes me very happy. Thank you so much, Moriya-san.”
…Well, her being happy was all that mattered.
For now, I handed the sake over to the host, who was Shirakawa. Looking closely, I noticed that there was a sake bottle missing about two thirds of its contents, lying in a basin of ice water. Without thinking, I muttered.
“Two liters for five people, huh. That’s not impossible, but… I’m not a strong drinker.”
“Fufufu, me neither.”
Her eyes were glazed over.
I asked Fumihara in a small voice.
“Hey… How much has Shirawaka drunk?”
“We’ve only just started, y’know? Only half a cup.”
Just that?
Seeing me whispering to Fumihara, Shirakawa frowned.
“Anyway, just sit down. I can’t relax.”
There was one cushion left, and it was next to Fumihara. I sat on it cross-legged and used a pocket towel to wipe off my sweat. At that moment, a gust of cold wind from the air conditioner blew over. The pleasant sensation caused my eyes to close a little.
Afetr looking at each of us in turn, Shirakawa took charge.
“Since Moriya-kun’s here, let’s have a toast again.”
“Agreed.”
“Yeah.”
Fumihara filled the sake cup in front of me to the brim.
“Now, for the toast speech…”
After the sake was distributed to everyone, Shirakawa’s gaze darted between our faces, and settled on Tachiarai.
“Machi, you’re up.”
“Me?”
Tachiarai raised her voice, slightly surprised, but didn’t hesitate in picking up her cup. Still sitting in a kneeling position, she turned her body to face us, and spoke eloquently.
“A strange turn of fate. It’s a weird phrase to use for one woman encountering another, but these last two months have been oh so mysterious and unpredictable. Even so, those who meet must part. It seems that I’m still not someone who can accept the pain of separation from loved ones. Maja, your country might be in a tough situation, but please take care of yourself. Now, let us break this abstinence from alcohol. Cheers.”
“C-Cheers.”
Her speech sounded a little slurred, but I raised my cup anyway. I clinked cups with Fumihara who was next to me, Tachiarai opposite me, Shirakawa on the left, and Maja on the right. Then, I chugged down my first cup. Fumihara immediately filled my cup again.
“That’s a good way of drinking. But don’t get carried away from the beginning.”
“Same to you.”
I said as I filled his cup.
As a wholesome high school student, I ought to keep drinking sake at only a ceremonial level. My gaze fell to the sushi in front of me. With impeccable timing, Shirakawa spread her hands and bade us to enjoy the feast.
“Shall we start on this too?”
“Alright. Thank you for the food.”
Maja was the first to split her chopsticks, and she reached for the sashimi. There was some awkwardness in her movement, but she was surprisingly proficient in using chopsticks. Fumihara was also surprised.
“You can use chopsticks?”
He asked. Maja joyously made a show of opening and closing her chopsticks.
“I trained hard for this.”
“You must have been really serious about it to call it hard training rather than practice. Was Shirakawa a kind teacher?”
“Yes, of course. Master Izuru was great.”
I looked at Shirakawa, and noticed that she had an indescribable expression, like she was happy and troubled at the same time. Perhaps she’d been quite Spartan towards Maja, despite appearances.
After helping myself to whelk, Geoduck clam, cockles, and sushi, I drank sake with clam nuta5 as a side dish. Thinking that scallops were a little common, I didn’t go for those. At some point, I realized that Maja’s sake cup was empty, so I picked up a nearby serving vessel to fill up her cup.
“Thank you, but I can do it myself.”
“Really? You can do it, then.”
Maja used the nearby serving vessel to fill her own cup, then drank it all in one go. I spontaneously remarked.
“Your way of drinking… What kind of alcohol do you have in Yugoslavia?”
While filling up her empty cup again, she seemed to puff her chest out in pride.
“We have something called rakija. I have heard that sake in Japan is produced in companies, but rakija is made at home.”
“Maja, you can also make alcohol by yourself?”
She nodded vigorously.
“Yes! Though I have only done it once. I can make one bottle of it.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting. What do you make it with? It’s not rice, right?”
“So this sake is made with rice? Rakija is made from all sorts of things. Um, I forgot how to say it in Japanese, but they turn into trees.”
Maja’s wandering gaze settled on a point on the table.
“It is made of things like these.”
She was looking at the basket piled high with apples and pears. Shirakawa murmured.
“Fruit?”
“Da! It is made out of fruit, which is cooked.”
“You cook the fruit?”
“Um, you boil it.”
She probably meant that the fruit was to be distilled. I was envious that she could make alcohol by herself.
While eating a piece of cuttlefish sashimi, I contemplated this alcohol I hadn’t seen before.
“Homemade alcohol, huh. I’d certainly like to try that once.”
Maja gave me a deep nod.
“Sure, if you have the chance!”
But is it even possible to bring in fruit liquor from overseas without an official guarantee? There is the customs inspection, after all. We need to do something to get around this problem. With that thought, I extended my chopsticks towards the octopus.
The big serving vessel was filled up with sake multiple times.
The aged shoyu ran out, so Shirakawa made a round trip to the kitchen.
After the Donryuu, we uncorked the Kouryuu, and according to my unbiased observation, it was quickly consumed, mainly by Maja and Tachiarai. Maja, who was comparing the two bottles of sake, said, “Both of them taste great.” Though her comment was bland, she seemed to be very satisfied with the sake.
I didn’t know how it got to that point, but I only now noticed that Fumihara was holding a lacquered chopstick in his mouth, while Shirakawa, colored red all the way down to her neck, was holding an apple in her hand.
“Right, here goes.”
She gave Fumihara some sort of signal. I was holding some sashimi, but stopped to see what was going on. With an underhand throw, Shirakawa propelled the apple so high I thought it might reach the ceiling. As was taught in physics class, it followed a parabola, and accelerated as it fell… until it was pierced clean through by the Fumihara’s chopstick.
“Wow!”
“Hm?”
I unintentionally exclaimed in awe, then clapped. Fumihara tossed away the chopstick and acknowledged the support.
“Well, all in a day’s work.”
An audacious smirk appeared on Tachiarai’s face.
“Fufu… If we’re doing these kind of tricks, shall I do one as well?”
Oh? Wondering what the drunkard was about to perform, I stopped reaching out for sushi.
Tachiarai held a lacquered chopstick in each hand, then turned towards Shirakawa.
“Now, Izuru, throw it near my chest.”
“An apple?”
“A pear would be softer, but an apple’s also fine.”
Fumihara dislodged the perforated apple from his chopstick and passed it to Shirakawa.
“Ready?”
“Go ahead.”
The gently lobbed apple flew accurately to a point in front of Tachiarai’s chest. At that moment, her hands moved as fast as lightning.
The apple was pierced from directly below and from the side, making a cross. Tachiarai rolled it on the table, showing that the two chopsticks were almost perfectly perpendicular to each other.
“Ooh!”
“Wow!”
Fumihara and I cheered excitedly. Maja also clapped her hands in ecstasy.
“Amazing, Machi-san!”
Tachiarai grinned at Shirakawa.
“Nice shoot, Izuru.”
She should have learned that phrase already, but Maja’s level of English was not enough to understand it. Or perhaps she was already drunk and forgot about it.
“Shoot6?”
“It means that she threw the apple well.”
Satisfied, Maja nodded and replied.
“Hm, that is a sut. I did not know because they are pronounced differently. Now, could you shoot for me too?”
She said in good spirits, and slowly stood up. She held nothing but clenched her fists and had the back of her hands facing forward.
“Izuru, please shoot it in front of my chest.”
“Fine, but why me?”
While complaining cheerfully, she received the apple that was now riddled with holes from Tachiarai. Fumihara and I turned our gaze from Tachiarai to the apple.
“Alright, here goes.”
For how red her face was, Shirakawa’s motor skills were evidently still fine, and the apple once again flew to its requested location.
Maja’s right hand moved, or at least that was what I thought.
The apple fell to the ground. A deep cut was etched into it, exposing its white flesh.
Dumbfounded, all of us forgot to speak. We looked at Maja, the deeply cut apple, and Maja’s right hand in turn.
Maja closed an eye impishly.
“Now, I will reveal the trick.”
She turned her right fist so that its palm was facing us. It was holding a small knife.
Still, no one said a word.
“Hm?”
Maja hummed, seemingly unsettled by the silence. Tachiarai said quietly.
“What a pro.”
Fumihara, Shirakawa and I vaguely nodded.
“What is wrong… Was I not supposed to cut this apple?”
“No, I’m just a little shocked. Maja, that was amazing.”
Upon hearing that compliment, Maja finally broke into a smile.
“It was just a small trick.”
Though it was just a small trick, we gave her a big hand.
“When I get back, I will write you all a letter.”
“Really? That’s a promise.”
“For promises, you do this, right?”
Maja lifted her little finger from her fist. Shirakawa stared at it blankly for a while, before suddenly grinning and linking it with her own.
“A pinky promise.”
After shaking the linked finger up and down, Maja let out a satisfied smile.
“I promise.”
With her saying that she would write a letter, I was once again reminded that this was a farewell party. Since one serving vessel was empty, I filled it with Donryuu, then topped up Fumihara’s cup while I was at it. Fumihara wordlessly downed the sake, then filled my cup in return.
“A letter’s fine, but…”
While the two of them still had their pinkies linked, Tachiarai rained on their parade.
“Can we read it?”
Shirakawa finally disconnected her finger as a quizzical look appeared on her red face.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Maja still can hardly write Japanese, right?”
Ah, right.
With a bitter smile, Maja nodded.
“You are right. I am not confident of that. But just a bit is fine, I think.”
“What about the words you use over there… what was it called again?”
“Srpskohrvatskom.”
“Yeah, you could write with that.”
Shirakawa started, but it all finally clicked in her mind, and she took back her words.
“Ah, but I won’t be able to read it.”
Folding her arms tightly, Maja groaned.
“Umm… Izuru, what about Chinese?”
“I can’t read it.”
“Right.”
“English?”
“I cannot. This is a problem, I have always written in Ruski for the other countries I have visited before.”
Probably due to the alcohol making her emotions unstable, Shirakawa looked like she was about to cry.
“So we won’t get a letter?”
Maja shook her head vigorously.
“Of course you will! I have made a promise to you, after all!”
I didn’t know a pinky promise was a ritual for such a solemn oath.
Maja considered for a while more, then let out a sigh as if to say, “It can’t be helped.” With a smile on her face, she spoke.
“Well, I could write a letter and get my brother to turn it into English. Please reply in English. My brother can turn it into Srpskohrvatskom.”
“Your brother knows English?”
Maja nodded in response to Tachiarai’s question.
“He is very good at it. Actually, English is widespread in Yugoslavia. That is why I chose to learn something else.”
Maja looked somewhat embarrassed as she said that. Shirakawa immediately brightened up, and did another pinky promise with Maja.
“Moriya-kun, how about one more cup?”
I’d accidentally bitten into the tail of a sweet shrimp and was fighting a losing battle to remove the shell stuck in my teeth, when a voice addressed me from behind. I turned around to find Shirakawa holding a serving vessel. It would be disrespectful to have a girl serve me sake, but it was also thanks to Fumihara’s lack of consideration. I held out my cup, but changed my mind. I should cut back on the alcohol.
“Could I have some of that oolong tea over there?”
“That’s barley tea.”
“Barley tea it is, then.”
She passed me the plastic bottle, so I filled up my own cup. I noticed that Shirakawa’s cup was empty.
“Sorry, I didn’t notice.”
I grabbed the serving vessel and offered it to Shirakawa.
“Thanks.”
She held out her cup, but it was visibly shaking. Pouring into it would be incredibly difficult.
I thought it was a problem with my eyes, but I was wrong. Shirakawa’s upper body was clearly swaying in all directions. I pulled the serving vessel away.
“?”
“You’ll drink as much as you’re offered, right? You should stick with barley tea for now.”
Shirakawa tilted her head, but put down her sake cup and picked up a regular cup.
“I’ll do that, then.”
It might be a little late now, though. Still, I filled her cup to the brim with barley tea.
Tachiarai’s hand reached over from the other side of the table.
“If there’s still sake, gimme that.”
She looked completely the same as before, but her words and actions were weird. Then again, you would have a point if you said that her words and actions were always weird. I retrieved the serving vessel and gestured at Tachiarai to hold her cup.
“Oh? Thanks.”
“You alright? How much have you drunk?”
“Dunno, but I think I lost to Maja.”
Maja’s pace of drinking was certainly frightening. She chugged the sake more energetically than when drinking water, and the cup seemed too small for her.
At this very moment, she emptied her cup of sake, then clapped her hands together, apparently just having remembered something.
“Ah, yes. I have something to give to all of you.”
She searched her pouch that was placed at the side, and produced a few strips of paper that were the size of name cards… Maja passed one to me, and it did turn out to be name card. Written on it was the name “Marija Jovanović”. Why a name card? I scrutinized it carefully.
“I thought of visiting a few companies, so I discussed with Izuru and had them made, but I was unable to use them in the end. Since they were made already, I might as well give them away.”
“Ah, I suppose they make a good memento. I’ll take good care of it.”
Fumihara said as he looked thoughtfully at the name card. Maja’s name was written in the English alphabet, with katakana on top as a phonetic guide. Her address was “Kikui”, written in Japanese… Wait, wasn’t there something wrong?
Fumihara raised his eyebrows dubiously.
“Maja-san, are you fine with this name?”
The katakana above her name was “Mariya Yovanovichi”. That was the first time I learned of her surname, but her given name was wrong. Maja put on a disappointed look.
“Um, the printing company did not have azbuka. I actually wanted to print my name in azbuka.”
“By azbuka, she means the Cyrillic alphabet.”
“That’s not what I wanted to ask.”
“Ah, you’re fine with it, right, Marija-san?”
Shirakawa gave Maja a warm smile, and she seemed to understand.
“Correct. I remember you finding it strange too.”
“It’s a nickname, right?”
The person who muttered that line was Tachiarai.
Right. I wanted to kick myself for not noticing it earlier. Come to think of it, that was a common thing in the West. It wasn’t strange for “Maja” to be a nickname. I might sound like a poor loser, but I would have instantly recognized it if the name was “Bob” or “Sandra”.
Maja nodded.
“Yes. Marija is my name. But my friends call me Maja.”
I was honestly happy that she called us her friends, but something bothered me a little.
“Friends? You introduced yourself as Maja the first time we met, though.”
“Um, when I introduce myself as Marija to a Japanese person, I hardly ever get called Maja. And being called Marija is, um… Izuru, how do you say it?”
“Um, it is like having an itch on your back.”
Shirakawa must have finally become wasted, for she imitated Marija’s, or rather, Maja’s speech pattern. Indeed, knowing that her real name was Marija made me want to use it instead of Maja. Though that was exactly what she hated.
Fumihara was still fiddling with the name card.
“Marija is another name for Maria, the mother of Christ, right?”
“Yes. I find it funny that it is my name, even though I am not much of a Christian.”
“So what does the ‘vić’ in Jovanović mean? I’ve heard it many times.”
Tachiarai answered his question.
“It’s like Davidson.”
“…Meaning?”
“Serge Gainsbourg7 has a song with the refrain ‘Harley David, son of a bitch’. It means someone’s son. One of Maja’s ancestors must have been called ‘Yovan’.”
“That is right.”
Maja nodded and brought a slice of tuna to her mouth. She was about to swallow it down, when she suddenly seemed to think of something, and asked a question.
“So, do your names have meanings?”
The meaning behind a name, huh.
I placed my elbows on the table and sipped some barley tea.
“Of course they do. You don’t know much about kanji yet, right?”
“No, I do. I have learned a lot of kanji that is used in China. But the kanji in Japan is slightly different here and there.”
“I see. Then you should know that each character carries their own meaning. If you put them together, they will naturally have meaning.”
But Maja did not seem convinced.
“No, what I wanted to say was…”
As she overturned her empty cup, trying to get the final drop of sake out, Tachiarai spoke.
“Basically, you’re asking if it was the result of something that was intended to have meaning given meaning by intended necessity, rather than something that was not intended to have meaning being given a meaning by unintended coincidence, right?”
She said that all in one breath, then finally put down her cup. I massaged my eyebrows. I should have stopped her drinking earlier.
“Uh, um, I think so. Intended to have meaning…?”
“Maja, you don’t have to think so deeply about it. My bad. Anyway, our names do have meaning.”
I sipped some sake from my cup that Fumihara had filled at some point in time, while Maja whipped out her notebook and pen, a quizzical expression still on her face.
“Really? I am interested. Will it be disrespectful of me to ask about them?”
“No, it’s fine.”
Fumihara replied, and Maja faced him while in a formal kneeling position.
“Thank you very much, Fumihara-san. So, about your name?”
Fumihara cleared his throat, apparently nervous, which was uncharacteristic of him.
“Right… Fumihara means to step on hara. In my case, hara is an expanse of land. You know what ‘expanse’ means, right?”
“I understand.”
“Stepping on that means to go into that land and change it so that it becomes livable. Putting that together, my name means ‘pioneer’.”
Maja quickly dashed off a note.
“Um, Fumihara-san, what was your real name?”
“You don’t call it a real name, but…”
He put on a wry smile.
“I’m Fumihara Takehiko. Take is a type of plant that grows fast and immediately grows tall, so when applied to a person, that name is a prayer that they will grow up without any problems.”
“A prayer…”
Maja muttered, and grinned.”
“This is lovely. What about hiko?”
“It just means ‘boy’.”
With a satisfied nod, Maja took down a note and turned towards Tachiarai.
“So, what about you, Machi-san?”
Tachiarai looked away, apparently not having heard Maja’s voice. But I knew that she was just pretending. She hated her surname.
Not wanting the mood to be dampened, I picked up a nearby sake cup and held it out to Tachiarai. Recognizing it out of the corner of her eye, she let out a small sigh and accepted it.
While filling her cup, I addressed her.
“You’ve been requested to talk about your name.”
“I’m not thrilled about having my real name be known to others.”
“Well, I never knew you could joke around.”
Tachiarai chuckled, then gulped down the cup of sake that had been filled to the brim in one breath, as if she’d decided to bite the bullet. She put down the cup.
“Machi means ten thousand wisdom.”
“Ten thousand… um…”
Maja wrote down something on her notebook, and showed it to Tachiarai. It was a number – 1,000.
“It’s one order bigger.”
“Mm.”
She added one zero, turning a thousand to ten thousand.
“Does that mean knowing a lot of things?”
Maja seemed to be quick on the take, but Tachiarai shook her head.
“This ‘wisdom’ isn’t just used for knowing things. It’s more of… ‘having a philosophical understanding’, I suppose.”
After using Maja’s favorite phrase on her, Tachiarai held out her cup to me. Having no choice, I filled it.
“Machi-san, your full name is…”
“Tachiarai Machi… Tachiarai means…”
She gulped down about half the cup of sake.
“The waterfront where a bloodstained blade was washed.”
“Bloodstained?”
“The blade was used to cut down someone, so it was stained with blood and had to be brought to the waterfront to be washed… Moriya-kun, I never told you why I don’t want to be called by my surname, right?”
As she glared at me with contempt in her eyes, I nodded.
“Imagine me carrying a bloodstained blade to a riverbank under a crescent moon.”
I thought about that scenario.
Since I was unable to answer, Tachiarai continued.
“It’s too fitting, right? That’s why I hate it.”
No, not at all. A bloodstained blade doesn’t fit you at all. That is what I should have probably said.
But unfortunately, I was an honest man.
Maja nodded a few times while working her pen.
“This is interesting. I regret that I never noticed this perspective until today… what about you, Moriya-san?”
I knew that it would be my turn next, yet I could feel myself making a sour face as I chewed on some flounder sashimi. After swallowing it down, I replied.
“Honestly, I don’t really know about the name ‘Moriya’.”
“Hm, you do not understand the meaning?”
“I’ve heard of three theories.
“The first is that it means a hut used by people whose job is to cut down trees in the mountains. Fujishiba used to be in the mountains, so that sounds possible. The second is that it means to have faith in the spirit that protects houses. It’s apparently a surname shared among warriors, or people whose job is to fight. I don’t really believe in the third theory, but it says that I’m a descendant of Mononobe no Moriya8, a legendary figure from a long time ago. Well, I never really did research into that time period, so I can’t say it’s definitely wrong.”
“So the meaning is unclear?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Ni. It is also interesting to learn that there are names which do not have a clear meaning… Umm, what was your full name again?”
They say that the name reflects the person’s nature, but mine was perhaps a good example of that notion being nothing more than an occult superstition.
“Moriya Michiyuki. Michiyuki means to go down a path. Path in this context includes the direction one should progress towards, one’s ideal self, and other things along those lines. Actually, the meaning of ‘michi’ would be clearer if it used a different kanji character9, but that character was apparently chosen based on its appearance and sound.”
Maja stopped moving her pen.
“Does the meaning still hold if the kanji is swapped out?”
I folded my arms.
“Yeah… There’s the mindset that the meaning holds if the characters have the same sound, I believe.”
Upon hearing my statement, Maja opened her eyes wide.
“I also heard that in China!”
But in contrast to her excitement, we did not feel any sense of wonder. In fact, someone rained on her parade, and of course, it was Tachiarai.
“Japan and China always had the same attitude towards kanji, so it’s hardly surprising.”
“So it is not a new discovery?”
“No.”
A clearly disappointed look drifted onto Maja’s face.
But she was mentally resilient, and gripped her pen again.
“So, what about you, Izuru?”
I looked at the person Maja was addressing, and was taken aback. Shirakawa’s face had been red until recently, and it was now gradually turning white. She was now as white as Maja. That face tilted sharply.
“Eh… Me…?”
She blinked repeatedly, as if she’d been asked a question out of the blue. Evidently, she hadn’t followed the conversation flow. In that state, Shirakawa placed her hands on her chin and gazed upwards in thought.
“…My name? Shirakawa means, white river. White is when the river jumps, and churns. Or it could be, river sand that is white.”
She spoke like she was singing a song, but her words were clear. She was probably not as drunk as she looked.
“And, what else was there again? Right, Izuru. Izuru means, Izuru means…”
She giggled.
As she continued laughing, she looked around at each of us before speaking.
“It’s a secret.”
Shirakawa laughed, as if she was teasing the whole lot of us, who were rendered speechless in astonishment.
“My name is very Japanese. I don’t know if this way of naming is only done in Japan, though.”
She downed the barley tea in her cup like she was chugging sake. Though she was in a proper kneeling position, the swaying of her upper body was increasing in amplitude.
“It’s a traditional way of naming, but has a bit of a modern feel. Still, I quite like it.”
For some reason feeling that it would be bad of me not to, I filled the cup she was still holding with barley tea.
“Ah, thanks.”
On the other side of the table, Maja leaned forward.
“This means that Izuru’s name has some philosophical meaning, right? This is very interesting.”
“Yes, it does. Fufu.”
Shirakawa’s laugh had a certain luster to it, and was completely different from her usual laugh. She then looked at the three other Japanese people around the table in turn.
“Hey… tell Maja… in place of a farewell gift, tell her about my name.”
She said sluggishly. Her eyelids seemed to suddenly grow heavy, and her body lurched heavily. With that, her head drooped.
“Hey, you okay?”
“It won’t be fair without a hint… My name being in hiragana is a contradiction…”
Shirakawa let out a deep breath, then stopped moving while still in her kneeling position. Her chest moved slightly, showing that she was still breathing. She’d fallen asleep.
“As I thought, she got wasted.”
Fumihara remarked, then swiftly cleared any cups and plates away from Shirakawa’s reach. His tone didn’t exactly annoy me, but what he said bothered me a little, so I spoke up.
“What do you mean, ‘as I thought’? If you knew she was going to get wasted, shouldn’t you have stopped her from drinking?”
Fumihara then lowered his voice, probably to the point that Maja couldn’t hear his words.
“Shirakawa was the closest to Maja. You understand, right?”
…Ah, I see.
I raised my head, and noticed that Maja was looking in my direction with brimming curiosity. I couldn’t help but avert my gaze.
“What, Maja, you want to go along with the nonsense of a drunk?”
“Nonsense? No, I wish to know the meaning behind Izuru’s name. Do you know, Moriya-san?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then…”
Why don’t you ask Tachiarai? I was about to make that suggestion, when I caught sight of her.
She was looking down, with her long hair that she’d claimed to yearn for since kindergarten hanging down on both sides of her face. Thanks to that, I was unable to see her eyes. I peeked at her face from underneath, to find that her eyes were closed. For the first time, I learned that the ever apparent shadow that enveloped her face mainly stemmed from her overly cold gaze. Now that her eyes were closed, the sternness was gone from her face, replaced with something innate…
No, there is no point in critiquing a sleeping face.
I lowered my voice.
“She’s also sleeping.”
I was speaking to Fumihara, but Tachiarai’s eyes sharply opened, causing me to stifle a scream at the back of my throat. Hearing that pathetic noise, Tachiarai reprimanded me.
“You didn’t need to be that scared.”
“I wasn’t scared at all.”
After saying that, I realized that I sounded like an elementary school student in a haunted house.
Tachiarai seemed to be getting into action, but instead of looking up, she tilted her head further down, and brought her hair a little more to the front. I wouldn’t be able to see her face now unless I was directly under her.
“Hey.”
I called to her, and a mumble emerged from the clump of hair.
“I drank too much. Lemme rest for a bit.”
She was silent after that. I felt that this childish state of hers was quite unexpected, but then again, I hadn’t witnessed her drinking sake before, and on second thoughts, she might just not be feeling well. At that very moment, Shirakawa finally collapsed face first onto the table.
I exchanged looks with Fumihara.
The one to first open his mouth was Fumihara.
“I’m bad at this kind of thing.”
I immediately replied.
“Not like I’m amazing at this either.”
“Um, but…”
Unconcerned about the two wasted people, Maja spoke animatedly.
“Moriya-san, you were the one who taught me about the umbrella, as well as the red-white combination. I have expectations of you!”
“Expectations, you say.”
“I expect that you will be able to tell me about Izuru’s name.”
I see. So there were expectations of me.
Now that there were, I had no choice.
There were expectations of me. I was expected to do something. That was all that mattered.
I poured some sake into my empty cup. The cold sake was now lukewarm. There was still some blood clam sushi, so I ate one. I then raised my cup, drained it in one go, and slammed it down on the table with a sound so loud that it felt as if the cup would shatter. After that, I opened my eyes wide, and raised one knee.
“Alright! Hear ye, hear ye!”
“Even you’ve gone completely drunk…”
Fumihara muttered as he hung his head in disappointment. What nonsense was he saying? As a wholesome high school student, I would never dream of swallowing a drop of alcohol. My articulation and consciousness were clear, and though my thought process was on the verge of short circuiting, I was definitely not drunk.
I placed a hand on my raised knee, and started thinking.
“Izuru, Izuru, huh. So, what was it? A very Japanese name? The meaning’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“What is it?”
Maja’s notebook appeared again, and she held her pen. I waved my hands hectically, telling her not to be impatient.
“Well, calm down. Haste makes waste, as they say. It has a similar meaning to the phrase ‘The longest way round is the shortest way home’. So, basically, there’s a contradiction regarding the hiragana.”
“I see.”
It was clearly a reflexive response without much thought put into it. I said my next line while thinking about the meaning of what I just said.
“Ah, basically, Shirakawa wasn’t trying to say, ‘The hiragana is wrong.’ Fumihara, you get me, right?”
Though he seemed annoyed, Fumihara answered.
“Well, Shirakawa’s given name is a hiragana name10, after all.”
“Yeah, exactly. Since hiragana are phonetic symbols, they can’t be wrong. So, what Shirakawa was actually trying to say was this: ‘The name Izuru became a hiragana name because there is a contradiction when you write it out in kanji. What do you think?”
“Yeah, that sounds right.”
“Yeah, it is. That’s actually what it is.”
It is said that repeatedly emphasizing a point is a useful tactic for buying time to think. But what was I supposed to do after that again? I picked up an egg sushi and considered my next move while savoring its mildly sweet taste.
“Ah, right, it’s quite a common occurrence. Alright, Fumihara, name one person in Japanese history.”
Fumihara answered my question.
“Ashikaga Takauji11.”
“…Why Ashikaga Takauji? He’s not a minor figure, but he shouldn’t be the first one you think of.”
“Sorry. I’ve been reading the Taiheiki12 recently.”
“No, it’s totally fine. Maja, this Ashikaga Takauji fellow was a terrible person, who betrayed the direct imperial rule of Emperor Go-Daigo…”
A retort hit me like a backhand blow.
“And which era was this perception of Takauji from?”
“You got me there.”
Maja was looking down at her notebook, wholeheartedly taking notes. While I thought that it might be my fault if Yugoslavia’s view on the Ashikaga Shogunate starts going in a weird direction, my mouth kept rattling on.
“So, anyway, Takauji was not his name in the past. Right, Fumihara?”
Fumihara snorted.
“You sure remember well for someone who took an elective in World History.”
“Don’t underestimate me. Before becoming Takauji (尊氏), he was Takauji (高氏).”
Since it sounded like there was no difference between the two names, Maja stopped writing.
“Um, I do not understand.”
“The kanji are different.”
I gestured for Maja to lend me her notebook. Written in it were words of the Latin alphabet, and not in Cyrillic characters which resemble normal letters flipped on some axes. I wrote 尊氏 and 高氏 next to each other, then returned the notebook to her.
“He used to have the name on the left, but it changed to the one on the right after he performed a great service. His master’s name, Emperor Go-Daigo… Fumihara, why does Emperor Go-Daigo have ‘Taka (尊)’?”
Fumihara looked completely fed up with me, but still replied.
“Emperor Go-Daigo’s name was Takaharu (尊治).”
Feeling surprised that his name didn’t have the character for “benevolence”, I spoke as fluently as a flowing river.
“Ah, where was I again?”
“You were talking about his master’s name.”
“Right, right. So he received a character from his master Emperor Go-Daigo’s name as a reward, and became this Takauji (尊氏). And speaking of names in Japan… Names, names…”
I abruptly held my tongue.
I’d let the alcohol take over, so I was joking around with a loose tongue, but I might have unexpectedly hit the golden target there. By the way, I’d hit silver targets before in my slightly more than two years of archery experience, but I’d never hit a golden target13. They are way too small. Anyway, I should stop here. There shouldn’t be that many naming variations, or rather, when speaking of strange naming methods in Japan, this would be the coup de grâce.
Since I’d suddenly clammed up and looked down, Maja peeked at my face.
“Moriya-san? Is there more?”
“……”
“You’d better not be wasted too.”
But I kept my silence and reached for the plastic bottle of barley tea. I used that to fill about a third of my cup, and drank it. I then glanced over at Tachiarai to see that she was still maintaining her proper kneeling posture. Would she be considered a good sleeper?
“Takauji received a character from his master. The character ‘Ie (家)’ is also often inherited by the Tokugawa clan. Rather, they pretty much all have that character in their names. What do you call this kind of thing again?”
Fumihara tilted his head in puzzlement.
“Ah, I think I’ve heard of this before. Tokugawa’s ‘Ie’ is called a generational character, but the act of sharing a character with a superior is called sen-i? Or was it kenki?”
“C’mon, don’t give up, student of Japanese history! What’s wrong? Recall that word! I seem to remember it starts with ‘he’…”
“He. Hen… henki!”
I heard a snap. It was me slapping my own knee.
“Yes, henki. It’s not just receiving a character from a master, but can also be from relatives.”
Hearing that, Maja’s eyes opened wide. Her countenance brightened, and she let her pen flow on her notebook.
“Henki. So that means receiving a character, correct? Mm, I see, that is something we cannot do. Also, I heard in China that you must not use the emperor’s characters in a name. It is very interesting comparing this to that.”
I folded my arms, then leaned forward with my upper body, hovering above the table.
“Shirakawa must be talking about that tradition. It must be with ‘Izuru’. So there’s a contradiction… Fumihara, do you know the kanji that can be used for given names?”
He laughed through his nose.
“There’s hundreds of them.”
“You’re right. But… I, I, Izu, Izu, Ize, Iyo.”
“What’s the point of listing them out loud? If you want to think, do it quietly.”
I accepted his complaint and closed my mouth.
If there is a contradiction in the name, the kanji characters’ meanings must be at odds with each other. Is it with “I” and “Zuru”, or is it with “Izu” and “Ru”? It can’t be a contradiction among three characters for “I”, “Zu” and “Ru”, because I can’t imagine three people who would give her characters for her name. If there are only two characters in her name, the contradiction must be between “Izu” and “Ru”. I can’t think of any kanji character for “Zuru” or even in the case of an euphonic change, “Suru”, that can be used for names. For “Izu”, a character I can think of is “出”, but it is hardly used for names. The individual meaning of that character is not very suitable for usage in a name, after all. All you can use it for are names with “Hide (日出)14”, like “Hideko (日出子)” and “Hidemi (日出美)”. It is difficult to imagine that the character “出” was given to her. So, what about a character for “Isu”? But it could even be “Idzu” or “Itsu”. There are too many possibilities. It would be better to start with “Ru”, and think of a character that contradicts it. Ru. Ru. Ru. Ru-ruru-rurururu-ruru-.
“Don’t sing.”
Fumihara sure is hard to please.
Still facing down, I reached for some sake. My cup was empty. Thinking that there might be some left in the bottles, I looked at the basin. In it were Donryuu (呑竜) and Kouryuu (香留), both of them premium sake.
…I see.
“Alright, I got it.”
I raised my head.
“Maja, lend me your notebook.”
“Da.”
I flipped to a new page and wrote down two kanji characters at once, 留 and 逸.
Fumihara and Maja were peering at the notebook, so I spread it out on the table for them to view it more easily. “Ah,” Fumihara said with a nod.
“Um, Moriya-san, what is this?”
First, I pointed at 留.
“This means to remain at a place.”
I then pointed at 逸.
“This means to be exceptional, or putting it simply, to be very good at something. But it has another meaning, which is to go away from a place.”
I intentionally held my chest out.
“The characters that Shirakawa received were these two. Neither of them have bad meanings, and are used fairly frequently in names. However, if you put them together, you can read the name as ‘Izuru’, but its meaning makes no sense. So they did away with the kanji, and that is how we have Shirakawa Izuru as it is spelled today. How’s that, folks?”
I declared with a dramatic flourish. But Maja didn’t understand that I was asking for a response, and Fumihara exclaimed, “Yo, Mr President!”15 which killed the vibe a little.
Instead of shouting, “Number one in Japan!”16, Fumihara grunted again.
“I see. Itsuru, huh. The characters certainly contradict each other.”
“It’d be the same if it’s ‘Ru (流)’ for ‘flowing away’.”
The only kanji characters for “Ru” that can be used for names are 留 and 流, and quite rarely瑠. The only character that contradicts them is 逸. I was confident of that, but Shirakawa, who was supposed to be wasted, suddenly heaved her body up and spoke in a groggy voice, surprising me.
“Ufufu.”
“O-Oh, you were awake?”
“Correct.”
Oh, did I really hit the golden target?
After looking up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath, Shirakawa turned to Maja and smiled.
“I received the ‘Izu (逸)’ character from my father’s family in hopes that I would become an exceptional individual, and the ‘Ru (留)’ character from my mother’s family so that I would keep happiness close to me. If you put them together they lose their meanings, but I like how it sounds.”
Maja nodded earnestly, evidently moved.
“Hm, inheriting the name, right? Actually, my name was also inherited from my parents. This is not rare in Yugoslavia, but inheriting only part of the name and forming a new one is very interesting to me… it is also wonderful that wishes are included in the names.”
It might have just been my imagination, but I felt that there was a hint of gloom in Maja’s smile. I didn’t intend to ask her about it, but I was about to call her name, when the other drunkard came to.
After pushing back the hair that was drooping down her front, Tachiarai raised her head. She slowly rotated her neck, probably feeling painful from having it tilted down for a considerable amount of time, then looked around at all of us. Forgetting the dubious feeling I had about Maja, I announced proudly to Tachiarai.
“It seems you were slow to come back to us, Sendou. But I won’t always let you have the spotlight. This time, I splendidly cracked the case.”
She shot me an annoyed look, then spoke in a small yet clear voice.
“What are you talking about? I think you’re a little too drunk, Moriya-kun.”
This time, even I was able to retort, “That’s my line.”
I got up from my seat and went to the toilet. When I returned, Maja was standing on the porch alone. There were well-pruned pine trees, stepping stones that led to a pond, and heat that was stifling for bodies used to the benefits of air conditioning.
For a moment I gazed at Maja’s white skin, before calling out to her.
“Isn’t it hot?”
It was then that Maja noticed me, and smiled.
“It is hot.”
“The air-conditioning is too strong, so the gap in temperature is big. I’ll ask Shirakawa to adjust it later.”
“But, um, I have come to like this heat, and this humidity. This is also interesting in a philosophical way.”
With those words, she sat on the wooden floor. I followed suit, and sat next to her. Maja looked up at the sky, which was devoid of clouds.
“Yugoslavia is a lot more dry. Also, it gets cold during winter. It gets really cold… I also have friends in the army. They use artillery guns. In the winter, your fingers cannot move well… I am worried for them.”
A prickling sensation ran through my body.
The clamor and high spirits of the party were fleeting, and the effects brought about by the various performances were unfortunately temporary, for they disappeared along with the cold air from the air-conditioning unit once we were out of the room. I asked a question.
“Do you think that they will fight even in winter?”
She slowly nodded.
“Yes, Moriya-san. It has started. The Yugoslavian government, EC, United Nations, and the United States of America cannot stop it.”
“What has started?”
I could predict her answer to my follow-up question.
“What do you call it in Japanese? The end? Collapse? Or death?”
What were Tachiarai, Fumihara and Shirakawa doing on the other side of the sliding door? It was dead silent over there.
“Can it not be stopped?”
As she continued gazing at the sky, Maja spoke in a matter-of-fact way.
“Yugoslavia was always in a crisis for the eleven years since Tito died. Slovenia was the starting point. Once the powers that want to leave the federation and the powers that want to maintain it start fighting, there is no stopping them.
“Next is Croatia. After that is likely Bosnia and Herzegovina. Then, probably Kosovo as well. And one day, my city might also become a battlefield.”
“Is it really that…”
I felt very sorry for Maja, even though I was usually a worthless person who couldn’t spare pity for anyone. The words that came out of my mouth were influenced by this emotion.
“If you predicted that this would happen, why were you able to say that you want to become a politician? Yugoslavia will disappear. The seventh culture can’t be produced now, right? So why were you able to say it?”
Maja looked down, and a light smile appeared on her face. I could clearly tell that we were born and grew up in different worlds. It was not a sad or resigned smile.
“Ni.”
“Was I mistaken?”
“There are two things that are wrong. I did not predict that this would happen. I did not think that the federal army would make their move, or that Slovenia would win. Even when Slovenia declared independence, I thought that we would be able to stay together…”
At that point, Maja shifted her body and tightly furrowed her eyebrows.
“No, I did not think so, but I believed it. Um, I cannot say it well in Japanese.”
I spoke.
“You wanted to believe it, right?”
Maja’s countenance softened.
“Japanese people are better at the Japanese language.”
“That’s obvious.”
“Yes, it is. So, about the other mistake…”
Maja took a breath. Her lips were tightly pursed, and her eyes contained an intense look. It was an expression I’d seen before. She’d made that very same face at Tsukasa Shrine.
“We Yugoslavians have continued to be born. If Yugoslavia continued for another twenty, no, ten years, we might have been able to do something. But Yugoslavia will disappear. It is as you said, Moriya-san.”
Maja’s pupils were wet, but she gritted her teeth, and the tears did not fall.
“Moriya-san, your name means to progress towards an ideal direction. For Fumihara-san, Machi-san and Izuru, their names also contain some kind of hope. I think it is wonderful.
“The name ‘Yugoslavia’ is a hope that all Southern Slavs will come together as one. It might have been a lie from the beginning. History might forget us.
“But we are already here. I believe, one day… one day, we Yugoslavians will create the seventh hope.”
Silence fell. For the first time, I noticed the distant singing of cicadas.
I could see the intensity of the situation Maja was embroiled in, as well as her tenacity in not giving up. For a moment, I felt light-headed.
Even as she talked about the death of Yugoslavia, she was trying to construct a world for her people. Would the two months she spent with us and even today’s party entertainment serve as nourishment for her? She had clarity of direction, and experience that had built up over time. Those were things I didn’t have a shred of.
That was when I thought, if I wanted to say it, I had to say it now. Maja would no longer be with us tomorrow. She would be returning to the other world.
I tried to speak, but yet again my mouth wouldn’t move, as if it was tired. I shouldn’t say it. Nothing will happen even if I say it. My mind was continuously besieged by those thoughts.
But I had to say it here, and now.
Exactly.
What experiences could I come into contact with in this daily life where I had limited freedom? All I could do was build up my knowledge and understanding, get into discussions with others and ask, “What did you see and experience?” When I wanted to try something different, the most I could do was archery. Fumihara said to me before that he couldn’t imagine me dedicating myself to or getting immersed in something. That was probably true. While Nukata might be hooked onto Western music and Fumihara might have devoted himself to archery, what I wanted to experience was not something like that, not something that could only be experienced from a position of comfort. I ate three solid meals a day, received education, and had no problems with my body, but that was nothing more than simply going through the motions. I needed to get out of here. I really had to. I understood, or at least had an idea of my own capabilities, and on top of that, I knew that people of my caliber were not short in supply. Relatively speaking, Moriya Michiyuki was not bad as an individual, and I was vaguely aware of that. But in this case, there was absolutely nothing to be relative about. Even my life as a high school student was already about to end, with me having gained nothing from it. But even if I was unsatisfied with my comfortable state, it would be foolish to roost under the railway tracks. That would be nothing more than playing at living an uncomfortable life. It was the same as why I intentionally didn’t read in my classroom when I knew that people who did so were in the minority. I didn’t just want to gain self-satisfaction. It definitely wasn’t just for that.
That was why I should be able to say it.
“Maja.”
“Yes?”
Maja turned to face me, and I locked my gaze on her. I had no intention of leaving even a single word ambiguous.
“Please take me to Yugoslavia.”
“……”
“I can live on like this. As a living thing, I can survive by eating and sleeping, even more so when I’m in Japan. But that won’t do.
“Right now, I can’t imagine the shape it will take, but I also have to create my own world… Please take me somewhere else, to Yugoslavia.”
Maja was a visitor from afar who had opened a vent in my narrow world. You could even call her an emissary from another world. With her position and perspective as a Yugoslavian aspiring to become a politician, she’d helped me reinterpret the world I’d lived in for so long.
I wanted to become someone who can do that. It was probably the first passion I had in my life. Was I attracted to Maja? No, I admired her.
The image of circles that I’d imagined before came back to my mind. This was an opportunity. It was the first door open to me. I wanted to see a different world.
“I don’t have enough money now, but I can save some up in three months. And then, maybe…”
But Maja giggled at me.
“No, I cannot.”
It was a clear refusal, without question.
A rejection with no room for misunderstanding.
My voice unconsciously became hoarse.
“Why!”
The smile on Maja’s lips disappeared as she purposefully shook her head.
“Moriya-san, I have looked around many different countries so that I can become a politician who creates a culture for Yugoslavians. I think it was very meaningful.
“So, what is your purpose for going to Yugoslavia?”
“As I said, to find something.”
Her eyes looked deep into mine.
“Something?”
“……”
Maja put on a gentle face, as if she were comforting or admonishing a child.
“Moriya-san, there are many beautiful places in Yugoslavia. Blejsko, Postojnska, Ohrid, and Dubrovnik17. There are all sorts of places. They are wonderful.
“But now, you must not go. It is not good to bet your life for sightseeing. When it becomes quiet, you should come with Izuru, Machi-san and Fumihara-san. I will welcome you then.”
Sightseeing, she said.
Did I fail to get my point across?
“I never said I wanted to go there for sightseeing. Maja, don’t you understand? I want to go, I have to go.”
But Maja shook her head adamantly. The hydrangea barrette in her hair made a sound as it jiggled.
“I understand Japanese. But Moriya-san, you want to sightsee. I cannot allow you to do that.”
Why? We’d conversed so many times before this. Why did she not understand me now?
Since Japanese wasn’t Maja’s mother tongue, did she ultimately not comprehend my words? Or my agitation? I ground my back teeth in frustration. My eyes must have been glaring at her.
However, she was unperturbed by my glare, and replied with what sounded like affection in her tone of voice.
“You think that I do not understand, correct? Ni, Moriya-san. I understand more than you do…”
“……”
“I cannot take you to Yugoslavia.”
To me, those words sounded like they came from far, far away. The July sun felt dark.
I was assaulted by a boundless sense of futility. My thinking stopped.
That was why I was able to goof around. With exaggerated movements, I shrugged.
“Got it. I hope I can go one day.”
“I hope so too.”
I stood up, and Maja followed suit. Her usual sprightly smile returned to her face, as if that talk hadn’t happened, and she did a small fist pump.
“Right! There is still some sake left. I like this Japanese custom… um, this farewell party, but we must not waste something that has been bought.”
“You’re surprisingly frugal. And strong to alcohol. You aren’t drunk, right?”
Maja closed one eye mischievously.
“Um, Moriya-san, you will be surprised when you come to Yugoslavia. Japanese sake is like water compared to rakija.”
“Haha, that’s frightening. I’ll drink it carefully.”
But I was certain that I would never have the chance to go to Yugoslavia.
My hope was already broken.
The next day.
“Neću nikada zaboraviti Vašu ljubaznost. Hvala i doviđenja!”18
Leaving behind those words, Maja left Fujishiba.
Would it be too Romanticized to say that the door to another world closed with her departure?
Chapter 2 Part 3 | Contents | Chapter 3 Part 1
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- A Japanese device made to frighten away animals that pose a threat to agriculture, but in this context most likely refers to a sozu, which is a bamboo tube that, when filled with water, revolves to empty and makes a clanking sound.
- Usually refers to a samurai with no lord or master, but in this context is slang for a student who has graduated from middle school or high school but has failed to achieve admission to a desired school and consequently is studying outside of the school system for admission in the next year.
- The legal drinking age in Japan is 20.
- Top-tier Japanese sake made with highly polished rice (at least 50% milled away) and no added brewer’s alcohol, resulting in clean, complex, and aromatic profiles, often with fruity or floral notes.
- Poached clams mixed with a dressing made of miso, vinegar, and sugar, often accompanied by blanched spring onions.
- Tachiarai said “Nice shoot” in English loanwords.
- A French singer-songwriter, regarded as one of the most important figures in French pop.
- The head of the Mononobe Clan, one of the main clans of the Asuka period, and was heavily opposed to the spread of Buddhism in Japan in the late 6th century. He is credited with setting fire to the first Buddhist temples in Japan.
- The kanji for “michi” in Moriya’s name is 路, which normally means a physical road, rather than 道, which can take on a more philosophical meaning.
- Meaning that the name is all in hiragana and has no kanji.
- Also known as Minamoto no Takauji, he was a Japanese samurai, daimyo and the founder and first shōgun of the Ashikaga shogunate. His rule began in 1338, beginning the Muromachi period of Japan, and ended with his death in 1358.
- A medieval Japanese historical epic written in the late 14th century and covers the period from 1319 to 1367.
- Golden and silver targets are special smaller targets used for advanced competition to test precision.
- This means “the sun coming out”.
- In kabuki (Japanese theater), the audience can shout when a popular actor makes their entrance or to punctuate a play’s highlight. This one is a nickname for Ichikawa Sadanji 2nd generation.
- This is likewise a shout for kabuki actors, but used in a more general sense.
- Lake Bled, Postojna Limestone Caves, Lake Ohrid and Dubrovnik respectively. The first three were mentioned in Part 1 of Chapter 2, and Dubrovnik is a city in southern Croatia fronting the Adriatic Sea, known for its distinctive Old Town, encircled with massive stone walls completed in the 16th century.