Tokyo Puts on Fake Smiles

TWENTY THIRD ACT: Tokio Takes Pity on You

The other truth

My reputation as an only child was never the best. When I turned three, the man who claimed to be my father abandoned my mother and me, leaving us with his numerous debts as a parting gift. I failed as a daughter without even trying.

At least she, my mother, wasn't alone. She had the help of her younger sister, my aunt Sumire, who, at just 19, left home to take care of me.

The women in my family always had bad luck with men. We stumbled four hundred times over the same stone, chasing the impossible, knowing we'd fail. We left flowers on our own graves.

But we always do it with the window open, in case we need to leave before we're caught by our own fire. That's a lie; it's just me.

And why just me? Because I was always the fuse. Never the fire.

☻☻☻

Nanako opened up and continued to share her worries about Kazuhiro, even the most intimate ones. To be fair, I had been the one to ask. I tried to change the subject and continue with the lesson, but it was difficult to help someone who was already well-tuned, with a pleasant tone, who moved well through different textures, could change their articulation point smoothly, and controlled their breath well.

I spent two hours teaching a student who was already well-taught and took a taxi home.

☻☻☻

I inhaled and exhaled as much as I could, trying to calm down, erase the faces of Manami and Mrs. Takagi from my mind, gathering my hair in my palms.

The next morning, in front of the bathroom mirror, just hours before the family gathering at the Takagi residence in Setagaya, I was getting ready, fearing the catastrophe that awaited me that day.

The problem wasn't limited to the obvious bad relationship between the fiancée and the mother; it went much deeper. The hours Makoto and I spent both at my apartment and his second residence wouldn't easily leave my brain's internal storage.

"Ready?" I heard.

I finished tying my ponytail and turned towards him. Smiling, he was leaning against the bathroom door, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans.

"I thought you'd dress more formally," I admitted.

He laughed and pointed at me from top to bottom. "Like you?"

In contrast, I was wearing one of the dresses I used to wear for work, below the knee, shoulder exposed.

"With this dress, I managed to get accepted into big projects at the old magazine I worked for," I smiled, patting my chest. "It's my lucky charm."

"In that case, maybe it's better to leave it to Manami. She needs it more than you," he chuckled.

Seeing his cheerful expression managed to dispel all the weight I had been carrying on my shoulders. I thought maybe not everything would go wrong that day because, after all, Kazuhiro would be by my side.

"What do you say we skip this chat and head out?" he asked, stepping aside from the door.

With warm cheeks, I nodded, and together, we left the bathroom, walking down the hallway to the living room.

For once, I left the camera and notebook on the dresser in my room.

☻☻☻