Misao smiled and watched them enter the apartment complex, arguing about what they should have for lunch. She then resumed her journey back home, which she shared with another fellow geisha.
"Misao, where did you go?" Kumiko asked as soon as she came in. "You said you wanted to go buy some books, but you took forever!"
"Sorry, I came across some lost tourists," Misao chuckled, sitting down on the sofa. "They we're looking for the bookstore too, so I brought them."
"Still doesn't explain why you took so long..."
"One of them needed to go to the goldsmith," Misao explained. "Remember I told you about that Indian guy that stood up for me the other day?"
"Yeah?"
"It was him and his sister. His Om pendant fell off in the ryōtei that night, so he wanted to get it fixed."
"Oh..." Kumiko nodded.
"Then they lost their way to their apartment suite too," Misao went on. "They're staying at Yumemite."
"I see..."
"Apparently, the guy's name is Shri. His sister's name is Shruti."
"Uh huh."
"And they even bought yukatas, wearing them correctly at that! It's rare to see tourists wearing the right kind of kimono at the right time of the year, wearing it correctly too."
"Misao, can I ask you something?" Kumiko cut in.
"What is it?"
"Are you in love with this guy?"
Misao turned red. "Wha... what do you mean?"
"I mean, do you have a crush on him?"
Misao slowly shook her head. "N-No? Why?"
"Because you've been talking about him ever since you first saw him," Kumiko leaned forward, smirking.
"No, it's nothing like that," Misao insisted. "I was just surprised that he stood up for me. Normally, tourists don't usually do this. It's just the locals. Also, the only reason why I'm talking about him now is because I came across him, that's all."
"Yeah, like three times now," Kumiko gave her a knowing look. "Misao, I know that look. You're blushing."
Misao sighed, defeated. "Fine... maybe I am falling for him. It's just that... he's so tall... handsome. You know I like Indian guys, right?"
Kumiko chuckled. "I know. I've seen all those Indian posters in your room."
"You saw my posters?" Misao gasped, turning redder. "Kumi!"
Kumiko rolled her eyes. "Misao, you always leave your door open. How can I not?"
"Fine..." Misao sighed. "Also, what do you wanna have for lunch?"
"I made some yakisoba, you want some?" Kumiko asked.
"Sure," Misao shrugged. "Thanks, Kumi."
"It's nothing, Misao," Kumiko smiled, making her way to the kitchen with her roommate at her heels.Misao purposely chose to pass the Yumemite Apartment Suites just to see if she could find Shri. She figured that she might not since it was night and the Malaysian family might want to stay indoors after dark. After all, they seemed to be horrible navigators and it would only be wise to remain in their apartment suite at night. She decided to shop at the convenience store in front of the apartment complex while she was at it. Besides, she did feel like having a late night snack.
She eagerly watched the window of the shop to see if Shri or anyone from his family walked in or out of the apartment across the street, playing with the strands of dangling cloth petals of her grandmother's kanzashi. She paid for the dango, manju, and anpan that she took and looked on. But sadly, there was no sign of them or anyone in general. Misao sighed and collected her change before leaving the shop, meaning to just go home.
The city looked as if it were lined with sequins, with every passing car and every lit window of buildings. Misao smiled. It greatly contrasted the other part of Gion, where she worked as a traditional Geisha entertainer. Even her outfit, her red sweater with white slacks, contrasted the long and baggy kimonos she wore for work. Her bare face, free of the white makeup she always wore, felt lighter too. Not that she was bothered by the oshiroi, she liked the feeling of the white paste on her face too. Misao always felt like herself either way, welcoming both lifestyles with an open heart.
The scene reminded her of a certain song for some reason.
Misao smiled to herself as she hummed the tune of Mariya Takeuchi's Plastic Love as she walked on.
But then she was cut short when she accidentally walked into another pedestrian. A much taller pedestrian.
"Sumimasen," Misao apologised, bowing deeply.
"Uhh... sumimasen!" the man also bowed too, his mouth sounding full. "I'm sorry. Oh... Misau?"
"Shuri-kun?" Misao gasped as she looked up at him. She bowed again. "I'm sorry I bumped into you!"
"I'm sorry too," Shri bowed, holding a headless fish shaped taiyaki. "We keep running into each other, don't we?"
Misao smiled and stepped to the side of the pavement to allow passers-by to walk without obstruction, with Shri following suit. "I didn't expect to see you, for the second time today."
"Didn't expect you here too," Shri chuckled.
Misao shrugged. "I like going on night-walks." She noticed how he was alone, with no one accompanying him. "Where's your sister?"
"Oh, she's in the hotel," Shri smirked. "Curled up with a book."
"The one you guys got just now?"
"Yeah, she really likes it. Now I have something to mock her about."
Misao tilted her head in amusement. "Why's that?"
Shri chuckled sheepishly, fiddling with the golden Om hanging from his neck. "Oh... it's nothing... she likes making fun of my interest in Japanese culture. Now, she's reading a traditional Japanese story, translated to English."
Misao smiled. "It's nice to see how tourists are liking our culture. By the way, where are you from? India?"
"No, I'm Malaysian," Shri shook his head. "But I am of Indian descent, though."
"Oh, okay..." Misao nodded understandingly. "Malaysia... it's a very multicultural country, right?"
"Yes, we get a lot of exchange programmes from Japan," Shri mentioned. "I had a Japanese student in my class once. He was very shy."
"Yeah, a Malaysian student came to my school once too," Misao recalled. "She was quite shy too, not really sure what was actually going on. I think she was Malay. She wore the... Muslim head-covering."
"It's called tudung in Malay," Shri explained. "It's a hijab, actually."
"Oh, I forgot that word for a moment," Misao admitted sheepishly. "But she was really shy. Her English was really good too." She hesitated slightly. "But not as good as yours, though."
Shri felt his face going hot, but didn't turn red, and smiled sheepishly. "T-Thanks. I had some help."
"Some help?" Misao asked, interested. "You mean you took English classes?"
Shri pursed his lips, realising that he didn't actually get any help. "Actually, no. It's just my school. I went to a good school. Besides, I read a lot. Maybe that's why. Actually, you speak really good English too."
"Oh..." Misao chuckled. "Well, I actually had some help. I went for classes, and I read too."
Shri nodded understandingly. All of a sudden, his watch alarm went off. "Shoot... I've gotta go. My parents said I had to be back by eight to avoid losing my way."
Misao looked at him confused, then at her own wristwatch that said it was nine. "But Shuri, it's nine."
"Well, it's eight in Malaysia," Shri shrugged. "Malaysia's time zone is an hour slower. Luckily only an hour. Or else we would be like vampires, asleep in the morning and awake at night!"
Misao chuckled. "I understand. Many of the tourists I've met are always sleepy, especially if they're from America."
"So I've seen," Shri agreed, nodding. He gave her one final bow and bade goodbye. "Well, I have to get going, Misau."
"Actually, it's Misa-o, Shuri-kun," Misao chuckled. "Not Misau."
"Okay, Misao... chan," Shri smiled. "My name is pronounced Shri, not Shuri."
Misao scratched her head and bowed. "Sorry... I still have a little trouble pronouncing things, especially Indian names."
"It's fine," Shri bowed too. "I had trouble pronouncing your name too."
He waved and left Misao smiling on the sidewalk.
'If he likes me, he'll turn back and look at me,' she thought, watching him slowly disappear among the pedestrians.
But to her dismay, Shri walked on without turning to look even once. Misao shrugged and turned on her heel to walk back to her home.
She glanced back just for a moment and to her surprise, Shri glanced at her too, stopping in his tracks for a second as he smiled. Misao smiled too and briskly walked down the sidewalk back to her home, playing with her kanzashi as she did.
YOU ARE READING
Ride on Time
RomanceShri, a writer from Malaysia who had always dreamed of visiting Japan and Misao, a Geisha from Kyoto with a kind heart and an interest for Indian movies. A love between two people from two different worlds who meet but are forced to part because of...