Tokyo Puts on Fake Smiles

TWENTY SIXTH ACT: When The Cheeks Hurt

Confidential and silent

I forgot. I forgot the song that had been my favorite for years. I forgot moments, scenes, from an August night. I forgot the holes of my piercings, deepening the void in my heart. I forgot what it meant to be me.

I fought to forget Kazuhiro's warm and comforting embrace. But I didn't forget.

I forced myself to smile. To always, always, always smile. So, I smiled even when, breathless, he looked at me. Not at the door, nor at her; at me. Then, I stopped smiling. No, I forgot to smile.

But tomorrow would be brighter, because by the shore, the shampoo had turned into sea foam. And I no longer wanted to forget.

☻☻☻

In mid-November, Nanako and Kazuhiro started dating.

When I saw them walk into the bar, hand in hand, I pretended not to know anything and avoided them by getting on stage, where I sang one, two, three—many songs, until the bar closed, I cleaned up, and helped my aunt as she counted the register.

The strumming of my guitar reminded me, note by note, of the distance between Kazuhiro and me. They traced, tile by tile, the chasm that was meant to separate us, because beside him, across the abyss, was her, Nanako.

And in my aunt's car, on the way home, I remembered his gaze, his gestures, the touch of his hand on my cheek, on the tips of my fingers, knowing it wouldn't happen again. He wasn't mine, I had to let him go. Maybe because I knew he was never mine, it didn't hurt.

When I arrived at my apartment, I didn't hear any voices, but I did see Kazuhiro's shoes. Just his shoes, so I understood he must be asleep.

I headed to the bathroom to take a shower before going to bed. As I turned toward the laundry basket to toss my sweater in, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I let the garment fall, paused in front of the sink, and leaned on it with my palms.

"My hair... " I murmured, "you like my hair, but... " I traced my eyes over the line of my lips, straight, drooping, tinted in his favorite coral. "My smile... " I tried to curve them, with difficulty.

But, fragile, with my cheeks aching, I couldn't hold it.

☻☻☻

I dreamed of sweet, white, creamy whipped cream, ripe, slightly tangy red strawberries, and fluffy vanilla sponge cake. Layer by layer, circular towers finished building a delicious shortcake.

The next morning, the sound of my alarm woke me. Tired, I got out of bed, slipped on my slippers, and walked to my desk. I pulled back the curtains and let in the little sunlight there was. The sky, heavy with dark gray clouds, greeted me.

But despite the gloomy weather, something inside me told me it would be a great day. So, feeling upbeat, I chose a beige blouse and black straight-leg pants from my wardrobe. Once I was dressed, I grabbed my makeup bag and headed straight to the bathroom, humming the last song I remembered singing the night before.

As soon as I entered the bathroom, placed the bag on the sink, and took out my concealer, I heard footsteps. So soon? I thought. I hadn't expected to run into him this early in the morning.

I tried to ignore the inevitable encounter, focusing on covering my dark circles with the applicator.

"Ayumi," he called me.