Chapter 6
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The quiet nights that Kento spent with Orihara had become a strange source of comfort that he had never experienced before. Sometimes, Orihara would tutor him. Other times, Kento found himself wanting to talk about his family and his childhood.
One night while they were listening to records, the topic turned to their families.
“My mom and dad both went to N. University. I think I was able to get into this school because of their connections.”
Kento’s mother and father were college sweethearts who had first met at N. University and gone on to get married. Ikuto, his father, had been in the Film Arts department aiming to become a photographer; his mother, Hisae, had been in Fine Arts. Right after getting married, the two had gone on a globetrotting trip. Kento was born soon afterwards, but the two took him along and continued their travels.
“That was quite daring of them, wasn’t it?” Orihara said with an air of amazement.
“Really? I can’t tell. Mine is the only family I’ve known,” Kento said indifferently.
“I’m sure it must have been difficult flying with you when you were still a baby,” Orihara mused out loud.
“Actually,” Kento said, and began a story that he had heard from his mother. “Apparently, one way to make me fall asleep right away was to make me listen to rock, especially heavy metal. I must have liked it since I was born if it was enough to be my lullaby.”
Orihara only widened his eyes in bewilderment.
Sometimes, Kento talked about the many countries he visited with his parents. He once talked about his trip to Peru. His mother had fallen in love with the beautifully-dyed fabrics there, which led to her beginning her studies in textiles.
“Lake Titicaca was so unbelievably blue. They said it’s because the sky is blue and the air is thin. Apparently if you go high enough, it’s indigo like in space.”
“That’s right,” Orihara nodded quietly as he perused a medical book on the sofa. “There’s less dispersion of light when the air is thinner, and you see more shades of blue, which have shorter wavelengths.”
Many reeds grew in Lake Titicaca. The indigenous peoples would use them to weave baskets as well as ships, houses, and all manners of things.
“That’s where my mom learned to dye fabric.” Kento and his family had been so smitten by the place that they had ended up living there for half a year. “That’s why I was a year late going into primary school.”
Orihara looked convinced. “Ah, now I see why.”
“I learned how to play a flute called a quena,” Kento said casually.
Orihara watched him with interest.
“You’re pretty mysterious, you know.”
“Huh? How?” Kento looked up from where he was sitting on the floor.
“No, never mind. Tell me more about your trips.”
“Are my stories interesting?” Kento looked at him curiously. They had been everyday experiences for his family.
“Yes. Very interesting. Normal people wouldn’t be able to experience all of that,” Orihara replied with a smile. “I feel like I’ve become the king in The Arabian Nights. I get to sit here and hear all these stories from a different world.”
Kento burst out laughing. “I’ll tell you as many stories as you like. Are they really that unusual? It’s all normal stuff to me.”
Kento’s father moved to New York City shortly after Kento began primary school, and began doing most of his work there. Ikuto then went on to become an exclusive photographer for National Geographic. His mother, Yasue, decided after much debate to live apart from him.
“She said she wanted me to go to primary school in Japan,” Kento added. But on extended breaks, such as during the summer, he and his mother would go to New York to visit his father. That was where Kento first encountered hip hop dance and fell in love with it.
When Yasue invited him to come along with her to London, Kento was torn at first. In the end, he chose to stay with Sion Promotion and continue dancing.
“I don’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.” Kento made a dubious face and looked up at Orihara. I certainly wasn’t asking for my leg to get hurt, but I still was able to meet him. His parents had always been ones to take problems in stride, and often said that bad luck often brought good luck. He figured this was probably what they meant.
“What’s wrong? Now you’re all quiet. Did you start missing your mother and father?” Orihara said with a smile. Kento blushed.
“It’s not like that,” he protested. “Stop treating me like a kid.”