Yuriko had finally put in an appearance. I was the size of a child, but Yuriko, with the face and body of an adult, was dressed in the flowing white robes of a sea goddess. Her ample breasts were visible through her clothing. Yuriko swam toward us with her long arms and long legs, a radiant smile on her beautiful face. I was terrified by her eyes as she looked around underwater. They emitted no light. I hid in the shadow of a rock, but Yuriko stretched out her exquisitely formed arms and started to pull me to her.
When I woke up it was just five minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I lay in bed, thinking about my dream. Ever since Yuriko showed up, Mitsuru, Kazue, and my grandfather all changed abruptly. Love…love…everyone was tangled up with love: Mitsuru for Professor Kijima, Kazue for Kijima’s son, and my grandfather for Mitsuru’s mother. Of course, when it comes to love I have no idea what kind of chemical reaction takes over the heart, never having experienced it myself. All I knew was that I had to do something to ensure that at least Mitsuru’s and my grandfather’s attentions returned to me. Would I be able to battle Yuriko? It didn’t matter. I had no choice.
During lunch break, Kazue sauntered over to my desk, beaming with confidence. She placed her lunch box on an empty chair and dragged the chair over to my desk with a rattling screech.
“Is it okay if I eat with you?”
She’d already sat down before she asked. Typical. I turned a frosty gaze on her. Dog! Fashion nightmare! Jerk! She looked even more repulsive today than usual, so repulsive I just wanted to shout abuse after abuse at her. She’d tried to curl her hair. Usually it hung limply down over her head like a helmet, but today it stuck out on both sides like a wide-brimmed hat. You could still see the lines where the curler pins had pressed down on her hair. And to make matters worse, today she’d somehow rigged her tiny drowsy-looking eyes so that she seemed to be double-lidded.
“What’d you do to your eyes?”
Kazue brought her hands up slowly to her eyelids.
“Oh. These are called Elizabeth Eyelids.”
She’d gotten hold of some beauty product that Japanese women glued to their eyelids to give them the extra fold they craved, because they thought it made their eyes look Western. She’d spied on one of the insider students attaching them to her eyes in the restroom. Just the very thought of Kazue holding that two-pronged toothpick-thin plastic wand up to her eye while she applied the device made my skin crawl. And then her skirt had shrunk so drastically that you could see halfway up her skinny thighs. She’d worked so hard at being attractive that she ended up looking more ridiculous than ever.
The other girls in the class poked one another in the ribs when they saw Kazue and made no effort to hide their laughter. It made me sick just to think that others thought we were friends. I hadn’t minded so much when she’d just been the ugly know-it-all, but this new transformation was thanks to Yuriko, which made it all the worse.
“Sat, I’ve a favor to ask you.” Two of our classmates who were also on the ice-skating team came up alongside Kazue. Both were insiders, but one was clearly subordinate to the other. They were very close. Both had fathers who served in ambassadorial positions in foreign countries. It seems that different ambassadorial assignments carried different levels of prestige, depending on the country. The two girls treated each other with the deference associated with their fathers’ positions.
“What is it?” Kazue asked, turning to look up at them cheerfully. When they saw her Elizabeth Eyelids they both broke into smiles that they struggled to conceal. Kazue, however, did not notice. Instead she twirled her fingers through her curls as if to say, Look at my new hairstyle. When the two shifted their gaze to her hair, they could no longer stifle their laughter. Kazue watched them blankly.
“The team has designated a midterm review committee, and we’ve been put in charge. I hate to ask, but would you let us copy your English and Classics notes? You’re the best student on the team.”
“Of course,” Kazue responded, beaming with pride.
“In that case, would you mind if we also had your social studies and geography notes? Everyone will be really grateful.”
“No problem.”
They hurried out of the room. I was certain they were in the hall laughing hysterically.
“You’re such an idiot!” I said. “There’s no such thing as a midterm review committee.”
I knew it was none of my business, but I just couldn’t help myself. Not that it mattered. Kazue was still luxuriating in hearing them call her “the best student in the club.”
“We all need to help one another out.”
“Oh, that’s just terrific. And how are they going to help you?”
“Well, I don’t know how to skate, so they can teach me what I need to know.”
“Wait a minute. You joined the skating team and you can’t skate?”
Kazue started to unwrap the handkerchief around her lunch box with a troubled look. She pulled out a squished rice ball and a piece of tomato. That was it. I had brought along the mackerel my grandfather had left uneaten and was enjoying my meal. But when I saw Kazue’s meager fare I was too startled to continue. Kazue started to eat the rice ball with apparent distaste. It was just a plain rice ball, lightly salted, with nothing stuffed inside.
“It’s not that I can’t skate at all. I’ve been skating with my father any number of times at Krakuen Park.”
“So what happened with your costume? Did they let you skate?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Kazue turned away.
“The cost of the costume and the rink charges are probably really high,” I persisted. “Didn’t your father complain?”
“Why should he?” Kazue pursed her lips angrily. “We’ve got the money.”
They most certainly did not have the money. I bitterly recalled the gloom of Kazue’s house and the way her father had dunned me for the international phone call I’d made.
“Let’s not talk about my team anymore. I’m interested in hearing about Yuriko. Did you ask her?”
“I called her right away. Listen, you have nothing to worry about. Yuriko said Kijima was just giving her a tour of the school. She also said it doesn’t seem that Kijima is going out with anyone else right now.”
“That’s great!” Kazue clapped her hands with joy. I found the thrill of lying even more entertaining than I had imagined.
“Oh, and one more thing. This is just Yuriko’s opinion, of course, and it may have no significance, but it seems that Kijima likes older actresses and such.”
“Who? Who?”
“Actresses like Reiko hara.”
I was on a roll and couldn’t stop. At the time, Reiko hara was one of the most adored actresses, or so I’d heard. “Reiko hara!” Kazue wailed, and stared blankly ahead in frustration. How will I ever replace Reiko hara? she seemed to be thinking. For a minute I remembered all the pleasure I’d had at tricking Yuriko with my lies when we were little, and my heart fluttered excitedly. But Yuriko had never believed me completely. There was always a part of her that resisted. If a kid knows she’s not bright, she’s always somewhat suspicious. But not Kazue. She swallowed my lies hook, line, and sinker.
“Oh, no! What do you think? What can I do to compete with her?”
Kazue peered over at me expectantly. In the end her narcissism had won out. Kazue was quickly regaining her self-confidence.
“Well,” I declared convincingly, “you’re good in school, for starters, and you know Kijima likes smart girls. But then he did mention Mitsuru. Maybe he’s interested in her.”
“Mitsuru?” Kazue wheeled around to stare at her. Mitsuru was sitting at her desk reading a book. It was covered with a book wrapper so I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like an English-language novel. As Kazue scrutinized Mitsuru, I could sense the heat of the jealousy rising off her cheeks.
Mitsuru must have sensed Kazue’s stare because she turned around and looked at us. She didn’t reveal any interest in us. I
thought it odd that Mitsuru hadn’t even mentioned my grandfather’s visit last night to her mother’s bar. Maybe her mother hadn’t told her he’d stopped by.
“Hey? Hey!” Kazue began to pester me. “Did she say anything about the kind of girl Kijima likes?”
“Well, I think we can assume he likes a pretty girl—he’s male, after all.”
“A pretty girl, right…”
Kazue took a few more nibbles of her rice ball and sighed. “I wish I looked like Yuriko! If I’d been born with a face like that…I can’t even imagine how much better my life would be. A whole new world would open for me. Really, to have a face like that—and brains—what more could you want?”
“That’s because she’s a monster.”
“I suppose. But if I could get where she is without having to study, I’d be glad to become a monster too.”
Kazue was absolutely serious. And, in the end she did become a full-fledged monster. Of course, at that moment I couldn’t have imagined how things would turn out. What? You think Kazue turned out the way she did in response to what I did back then? You’re saying I’m responsible for her eccentricity? I don’t believe that for a minute. No. What I believe is that there is something implicit in everyone, which forms that person’s character and is responsible for everything else. There was something inside Kazue herself that was accountable for the change in her appearance. I’m sure of that.
“You really eat like a bird. You must overeat at breakfast,” I said maliciously.
Kazue shook her head vigorously. “No way. I only drink a bottle of milk.”
“Really? The other day when I was visiting you ate everything on your plate. You even gulped down the dipping sauce.”
Offended, Kazue glared at me. “Well, I don’t do that anymore. I’m watching what I eat. After all, I want to be as beautiful as a model.”
Just then I thought of something very cruel. If she were to be any thinner than she already was, she would look so horrible there’s no way anyone could be attracted to her.
“Yes, you’re absolutely right. If you lost just a little bit more weight you’d be perfect,” I said.
“I know. That’s what I think too.” Kazue lifted her skirt bashfully. “My legs are so fat. They’ve told me at practice that the thinner you are the lighter, which makes it easier to skate.”
“All you need to do is try just a little bit more. Kijima is thin too, you know.”
Kazue nodded with conviction when she heard what I said. Then she noted happily, “If I were a little thinner, I’d be pretty, and Kijima and I would look really good together.”
She wrapped her empty lunch box in a tomato-stained handkerchief. Mitsuru appeared, her book tucked under her arm. She tapped me on the shoulder, “Yuriko’s here. She said she has something to tell you.”
Yuriko? How many times had I told her never, ever to come looking for me? Surprised, I turned toward the hallway. She was standing in the doorway with Kijima Junior, looking in at me. Kazue still hadn’t noticed them, so I gave her a quick shove.
“It’s Kijima.”
Kazue’s cheeks turned beet red and she became completely flustered. What’ll I do? What’ll I do? I’m not ready for him to see me yet! What’ll I do? This was written all over her face.
I stood up. “Don’t worry. They’ve come to talk to me.”
“But you told Yuriko that I like Kijima, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t tell her.”
I left her to her panic and headed toward my two visitors. Yuriko stared at me as I approached her. She stood straight as a ramrod and was now more than four inches taller than I was. The arms that hung from her short-sleeved blouse were long and slender and beautifully shaped. Even her fingers were gorgeous.
“What do you want?”
I noticed Kijima Junior flinch in surprise at the rudeness of my tone.
“Professor Kijima’s my supervising instructor; I think you already know that. Anyway, he’s asked me to fill out an information sheet about my family, and I don’t know what I should write. I think it’ll be weird if you and I don’t have the same answers.”
“Why don’t you fill it in with information about Johnson and Masami?”
“But Johnson’s not really family. Unless he’s more than family?”
Kijima Junior smiled slyly and stared at Yuriko’s face. At that moment I saw Yuriko blush. A light glimmered in her eyes. Anger gives birth to determination—and in Yuriko’s eyes I saw the glimmer of determination. Yuriko had no business possessing determination. I would have to trample out whatever it was that had given birth to it.
“I filled the blanks in with information about you and Father. But if Professor Kijima asks me about it, I’ll just tell him to come talk to you.”
“Fine.”
I looked at Kijima Junior. “Aren’t you Professor Kijima’s son?”
“Yeah. What’s it to you?” He glared back at me. Clearly he hated nothing more than being asked about his father.
“It’s just that Professor Kijima’s such a great teacher, that’s all.”
“Well, at home he’s a great dad too.” Kijima parried.
“You and Yuriko are always together. You must be really good friends.”
“Well, that’s because I’m her manager,” Takashi responded playfully. He stuffed both hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. Those two were up to something. And I was so eager to find out what it was, I could hardly contain myself.
“What kind of manager would that be?”
“I do a little of this and a little of that. Oh, and by the way, Yuriko has decided she’ll join the cheerleading squad.”
Now isn’t that ironic, I thought, as I turned to look back at Kazue. She was looking down, pretending she wasn’t the least bit interested. But I knew every fiber in her body was trained on us.
“Kijima, what do you think of that girl there?”
Takashi glanced over at Kazue and shrugged without the slightest interest. Yuriko looked annoyed and tugged on his arm.
“Kijima, let’s go.”
When Yuriko turned to walk away, it suddenly dawned on me. She was no longer the little girl who had chased after me along the snowy road that night. Just six months ago, when she set off for Switzerland, she hardly ever spoke out, but now that she’d been separated from me she seemed much more assertive.
“Yuriko?” I asked, as I grabbed her arm. “What happened to you in Switzerland?”
Was her body temperature low? Yuriko’s arm was icy cold. What was the point of my question? It was obvious, I suppose, and also extremely ill-tempered. But I wanted to induce her to tell me what I had already discerned—she’d had sex with a man. She was no longer a virgin.
But Yuriko surprised me.
“I lost the person I loved the most.”
“Who?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.” The glimmer in Yuriko’s eye intensified momentarily, as if it were a flame. “Our mother, of course.”
She looked down at me with contempt. Her face twisted, the light in her eyes flickered, and her expression turned to one of sorrow. I longed to make that face of hers even more hideous than it was right then.
“And you don’t look even one bit like her!”
“Resemblance is meaningless.” With that as her parting shot, Yuriko latched onto Takashi’s shoulder. “Kijima, I’ve had enough. Let’s get out of here.”
Kijima barely had time to turn around before Yuriko dragged him off. But he did manage to gaze back at me with a curious stare. Yes, that’s right. I was completely taken with the question of resemblance, and I would continue to be. I am even now. I don’t know why.
Before I could return to my seat, Kazue dashed over to me and began her grilling.
“Hey, what were you talking about with them? You were out there a long time.”
“Oh, a lot of things. You didn’t come up in the conversation, though.”
Kazue lowered her unnaturally doub
le-lidded lids and thought about it for a moment before asking, “What should I do to get Kijima to notice me?”
“Why don’t you write him a letter?”
Kazue’s face lit up at my suggestion. “What a great idea! I’ll write a letter. But before I send it could I show it to you? It would help to get an impartial opinion.”
Impartial? My lips twisted into a smile. I noticed that the smile was an imitation of the one Yuriko had used earlier.
• 2 •
Can you guess what I did that night? I was imprisoned by the notion of resemblance. When I came to this realization, I made up my mind to press my grandfather for some answers. I wanted to know who my father was. Of course, I already knew I was half. There could be no denying that. I knew my mother was Japanese, and I was convinced that my father had to have been from a different country. Well, look at my skin. It’s not yellow, is it? Well, is it?
But I was absolutely certain that my father could not be the same Swiss who had fathered Yuriko. Why? Well for starters we don’t look a bit alike. And in the second place, how could such a mediocre man have fathered such a clearheaded child as myself? It certainly wasn’t likely. Besides, my father’s treatment of me was abusive. He always kept me at arm’s length, and though he had no trouble scolding me, I never once felt any love from him.
Ever since we were children, Yuriko would pick on me because we looked so little alike. Oh? You can’t imagine Yuriko ever picking on me? Why not? Is it because she’s beautiful? Well, looks can be deceiving. Yuriko was ten times more spiteful and vicious than I ever was. She had absolutely no qualms about boring straight through my heart. “I wonder where your daddy is, huh?” she would chide me. “Because you don’t look a bit like my daddy.” This was always her ultimate weapon.