Espresso Love (A Dystopian Japan Novel) #Wattys2014

Rendezvous

-Rendezvous-

The police had restrained the crowds - but not with as much effort as they might have during a street rally or a comic convention. It was intended only to be a brief showcase of attendance and nothing more. Just to demonstrate that they had heard the call, preventing any more from coming in, and to grasp an opportunity to accumulate work hours. They do their job. They get their pay. They wave their batons and hats. Prescribed reciprocation and ceremonious exchange.

The crowds did let up with their microphones and loudspeakers however, and resorted to a passive protest of signs. And an uneasy silence descended on the building like a car underwater, filling up first with despair and then water.

There's a knock on our door three or four in the morning when the police have finally evicted the crowds from our property. Instead, the members gathered at the base of the house next door. They are likely armed with binoculars and cameras, all positioned to watch the entrances and exits. We would need our suits and our prayers for a successful escape.

"Maeda-san," comes a hesitant voice. I peer out the hole and to my surprise, find Mr. Choi at the door. Even from the warp of lens I can make out the dark bags under his eyes. "Sorry to bother you so late, but I know you likely haven't fallen asleep with the racket. Do you mind if I come in to talk?"

I look over at Shizuka but she shrugs as to say it's my business, not hers. I tell Mr. Choi to wait for a minute and we close the bedroom door to conceal our luggage.

"This is Shizuka Kaneko." I begin with introductions.

Mr. Choi tips his head formally, but without much enthusiasm. I can't tell if it's fatigue or impatience. He has something to say no doubt.

"Would you like some tea?"

He insists it is alright and that it would be quick. But I offer him a seat at the kitchen table anyway. Shizuka excuses herself into the bedroom, sensing he wanted to speak to me alone. He would be unaware she could hear his every thought.

As soon as I've taken my place across from him, with the same cold kitchen lamp hanging from a thread above our heads, he squares his shoulders and speaks low and steadily.

"Maeda-san," he begins, then he clamps his mouth shut again for a second. "I know this will be a little rude of me to say so, but I'd like to ask you to hear me out."

I nod, quite aware of where he is going. Shizuka likely knows what he's going to say before he does so. "Maeda-san, we have lived in the same building for a few years now. You understand that I live with my wife and our two toddlers."

"Yes, very lovely family. Are you sure you don't want tea?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

He glances around my flat for a moment, like taking in his surroundings for the first time. Mr. Choi has a heavyset sturdy build but his facial features are, on the contrary, small, young and smooth, as if he is barely out of high school. His eyes are thin and narrow, nose high and arched with well bearing. He wears hair dyed firmly black in a side sweep across his forehead. Where he might normally wear spectacles, there are two red marks on the bridge of his nose. The conclusive image is incompatible, everything slightly distinct so that his appearance looked like pieces of a puzzle that don't quite fit together. Each contrasts the other pieces, like a Picasso.

He finally turns back and stares resolute, into my eyes. I try to remain composed and relaxed, but my neck stiffens. "Listen, I'm going to put it simply," he pauses, "my kids are still young. It's hard to get up at five a.m. in the morning to prepare food and get ready for work, while my wife rouses the kids and dresses them for school. Kids these days have lessons in various subjects for extra-curricular activities and I work until late at night. I usually get home at seven or eight. My wife has night classes at eight thirty. This is no easy life. We might get a good five, six hours of sleep on a good night. I'm sure you must have your own concerns and your own busy schedule, but at least you don't have children to take care of, Maeda-san. What I'm saying is," he pauses again and swallows. "if what happened tonight, is going to continue, or will occur again at all, it will cause us much grief and trouble."