Last year, she’d become close with one of the supporting actors on her show. He’d call her every time he was in Osaka and they’d go out for lunch, although things never went any further than that. Perhaps their relationship would have developed into something more, but Aguri was cautious and preferred work over dating and romance.
Around three or four years ago, she’d gone out with a man from a local television network, but he got transferred to their Nagoya office and she then grew extremely busy, so things naturally ended there. Now Aguri’s entire life was work, but she found it fulfilling.
“Glad I got to talk to you. Thanks.”
Yoshioka’s voice resonated deep within her heart.
That’s just the kind of guy he is, she said to herself. He’s so…
He was self-centered. He’d said he was going to marry Aguri, when meanwhile, he’d had another woman on the side whom his parents were trying to get him to wed. And then, with a straight face, he’d told Aguri:
“Yeaaah, nah. I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Get married. To you.”
“What?!” Aguri had blurted out. “Did you seriously just say, ‘Yeaaah, nah’ about something this important?”
But somehow, she couldn’t hate the guy.
“Forgive me. I’m sorry.”
Aguri felt weak in the knees when he said that.
“Really, I am.”
She’d been working at city hall at the time, heartbroken to the point that she hadn’t thought she’d have the strength to wake up every morning. But she’d needed this job to survive, so she poured all her energy into work. And even then, Aguri couldn’t bring herself to resent Yoshioka. He wasn’t capable of standing up to his parents; he panicked over the arranged marriage they were forcing him into and meanwhile found himself unable to break things off with Aguri. Nonetheless…
“What’s this girl like?” Aguri asked.
“A real beauty,” Yoshioka replied with utmost sincerity. Aguri was hit with the urge to murder him until he continued, “It hurts. I wake up every morning hopin’ it’s all a dream, that it’s you by my side instead, and I just can’t stop crying.”
He was actually crying, too.
“It kills me.”
That was all it took for Aguri to forgive him.
“Well… Bummer…”
That out-of-date slang was the last thing she said to Yoshioka before cutting him out of her life. Even after getting an abortion, she still couldn’t hate the man.
Her old boyfriend from the TV network clutched his stomach with laughter when she told him about Yoshioka.
“What an idiot. He couldn’t stand up to his parents, then gets so haunted by his obligations and feelings that he starts crying? Sounds straight out of the works of Chikamatsu.”
Then he started sarcastically saying, “It kills me,” which ended up making Aguri more annoyed with him than anything else.
Who do you think you are? Oh, so he’s the idiot? You think you’re so great with your wife and kids, but here you are, leading a double life with me on the side.
Maybe it came down to chemistry. What Aguri had with Yoshioka in bed was perfect. They made love—sweet and gentle yet passionate love, as opposed to the aggressive, unflattering sex she had with the man from the television network. Perhaps those memories still lingered in the back of her mind, and her admiration, which was a mix between obsession and regret, was what was keeping her memories of Yoshioka from ever leaving her side.
Aguri never mentioned this to the man from the television network, but she was impressed that Yoshioka was the son of a CEO—granted, the CEO of a small enterprise with around two hundred employees. One day, when she and Yoshioka were passing by the company’s factory in the Higashiyodogawa Ward in his car, he pointed at the tall fence and said:
“That’s ours.”
Aguri had various intentions of her own. She’d weighed the advantages and disadvantages of marrying Yoshioka, so maybe God had punished her for having such utilitarian motives. Deep down, she felt Yoshioka wasn’t the only bad guy here.
Nevertheless, when she heard him say, “Glad I got to talk to you. Thanks” during their first phone call in ages, it reminded her of his “It kills me” all those years ago.
That’s just the kind of guy he is, Aguri said fondly to herself. There was no doubt that when Yoshioka said something like that, he was speaking from the heart.
At any rate, what does he want to even talk about, especially after all these years?
Hearing Yoshioka’s voice on the phone had raised Aguri’s expectations far too high, because she was remembering the old him. But the real Yoshioka had aged, and his choice of glasses wasn’t helping things. Aguri was disillusioned.
Yoshioka quietly watched her as she made tea, then shook his head.
“Ya haven’t changed at all. Still as young and beautiful as ever.”
“I wonder. They say women age faster if they work too much.”
Aguri was wearing light makeup. Even though she never had the spare time to get a perm and simply got a monthly trim instead, her shoulder-length tresses were perfectly straight and glistening. She flipped her hair over her shoulder while making an effort not to meet Yoshioka’s eye, since she could sense him staring at her.
When Aguri eventually looked at him, she could instinctively tell that he hadn’t come over just to catch up on old times. But she still had no idea why he was here.
“Hard to believe six or seven years have passed…,” Yoshioka said as he took a cigarette out of his pocket.
He’s planning on overstaying his welcome, isn’t he? thought Aguri, a touch despondent. After all, she had a few more scenes to write before the end of the day if she wanted to meet her deadline.
Yoshioka’s fingers were thick like those of someone who worked in a field, and his fingernails were broken and rough. When he was younger, the backs of his hands had been soft and slightly plump, maybe because he’d been a bit chubby back then. They’d been pale like a woman’s hands, his fingers similarly unblemished. His palms were so warm when he wrapped his hands around Aguri’s that day years ago and said, “Whoa. Your hands are freezing. People say ‘cold hands, warm heart,’ and I reckon they might be right.”
Aguri found his sweet-as-a-peach tone so sexy. Yoshioka was really good at gauging her mood whenever they made love. He was observant, sensitive, and gentle. Back where they were from in Osaka, people called anything syrupy sweet and gentle “sweet as a peach.” That phrase fit Yoshioka to a T, from his personality to the way he talked and had sex.
But there was no trace of that quality now, which was why Aguri thought he looked different and seemed less gentlemanly.
“They keep tellin’ me to lay off the cigarettes, but I can’t… Same goes for booze. I’d be lost without it.”
“Who’s telling you that?”
“Doctors. Said I’m gonna fuzz up my liver.”
People from Aguri and Yoshioka’s hometown often said “fuzz up” to mean mess up or damage in some way. Aguri had spent most of her adult life in Tokyo by now, so it felt like ages since she’d last heard such slang.
“Mother Tantan’s a smash hit, eh? I love it.”
“Thanks. But it’s the actors who deserve all the credit.”
“Nah, it’s the script. I mean, I’m no expert or nothin’, but still—you really hit the big leagues all of a sudden, y’know? That’s proof you’re talented.”
“I just got lucky.”
“You been writing since way back, too? I had no idea. When I first saw your name on the TV, I thought it was a completely different person, just with the same name. Then I saw your picture in a magazine two or three years ago. Boy, was that a surprise.”
“…”
“But then I was like, ‘Yeah, that makes sense…’ You always were smart. Even the letters ya used to write me were really good.”
“Did I used to write you letters?” Aguri asked, even though she clearly remembered doing so.