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Authors: Marie Mutsuki Mockett
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too departed the hall.
“Who was that?” Taki finally asked.
I did not recognize the name and handed the sheet of paper over to Shinobu. “She wrote that my wrists are too stiff.”
“It’s Rie Sanada,” Shinobu breathed.
“Who?”
“She left you her phone number.”
“But you aren’t supposed to take lessons off campus,” Taki noted.
Shinobu tossed me a look and gave her head a barely perceptible shake. “No,” she said. “We aren’t.” Then she linked her arms in ours and led us back to the dormitory.
All during the second semester of that first year, I’d looked forward to the train ride from Tokyo to Hachinohe for the New Year holiday. I knew it would be long and tiring, and then I’d have to deal with Mineko once I finally arrived at my destination, but I was looking forward to seeing the passengers and the scenery change. And indeed, once I started my journey home, I loved having the sense that I was someone with somewhere very, very far to go. It made me feel that my own story was particularly important again.
I sat in my most college-girl-looking outfit possible, a pleated skirt and a fitted sweater that I’d bought with money Mr. Horie had sent to me, and a dramatic pair of large gloves I’d found in Ameyoko, a flea market. Thegloves, or rather the gauntlets, were leather, and therefore obviously imported from the West. People gave me a wide berth, though I was very happy to tell the one person who asked me where I had gotten those oversized things that I was a pianist, and that protecting my hands at all times was of utmost importance. The news spread throughout the train, and thereafter, when people walked past me to go to the bathroom or to look for the
bento
seller, they gave me little smiles, which I ignored, preferring to stare haughtily out the window.
At Hitachi station, there was the usual transfer of passengers and the new passengers avoided sitting next to me because of my gloves. I was surprised when a young man plopped down in the seat opposite me, grinning as though we’d met long ago and had finally been reunited. I snuck a look at him. He was handsome in that self-aware way, with round eyes and full lips and a straight nose. Immediately I didn’t trust him. I always assumed that overconfident and good-looking boys thought they could get away with things, and planned to.
“Are you going to go boxing later today?” he asked me.
“Do I
look
like a boxer?” I asked.
“From what I understand, looks can be deceiving.” He grinned at me. “You never know what kind of physical power even a little girl might have.”
Who was he? Someone from Hachinohe who remembered how I had attacked Mineko? I scanned the car for other seats where I could move and be alone. But there were few. Most had little old ladies or drunk older men, and I wasn’t entirely certain that moving next to them would stop me from having to have these kinds of inane conversations.
“These are gauntlets,” I said, pronouncing the foreign word very slowly.
Gon-to-re-tto
.
“Are you expecting a sword fight with someone?” he persisted.
I hadn’t anticipated that he would know how the gloves were originally used.
“I read a lot of English literature. Mostly in translation, of course, though I try to read the original too.”
“In Hitachi?” I snorted.
“We have books in Hitachi,” he said soberly. “And if you learned to read by going to school in Tokyo …”
I raised my eyebrows.
“… at Keio University, then you would be able to read just about anywhere. Even in Hitachi. Anyway. It’s not like
you’re
from Tokyo either.”
I liked this directness, even though it was intended to humble me a little. “No,” I agreed. “I’m sorry. I play the piano. I’m trying to …”
“Protect your hands?”
“Yes,” I lowered my head. “And I guess I thought if I wore something this strange, people would leave me alone on the train. I have this fear that I’m going to run into
“Who was that?” Taki finally asked.
I did not recognize the name and handed the sheet of paper over to Shinobu. “She wrote that my wrists are too stiff.”
“It’s Rie Sanada,” Shinobu breathed.
“Who?”
“She left you her phone number.”
“But you aren’t supposed to take lessons off campus,” Taki noted.
Shinobu tossed me a look and gave her head a barely perceptible shake. “No,” she said. “We aren’t.” Then she linked her arms in ours and led us back to the dormitory.
All during the second semester of that first year, I’d looked forward to the train ride from Tokyo to Hachinohe for the New Year holiday. I knew it would be long and tiring, and then I’d have to deal with Mineko once I finally arrived at my destination, but I was looking forward to seeing the passengers and the scenery change. And indeed, once I started my journey home, I loved having the sense that I was someone with somewhere very, very far to go. It made me feel that my own story was particularly important again.
I sat in my most college-girl-looking outfit possible, a pleated skirt and a fitted sweater that I’d bought with money Mr. Horie had sent to me, and a dramatic pair of large gloves I’d found in Ameyoko, a flea market. Thegloves, or rather the gauntlets, were leather, and therefore obviously imported from the West. People gave me a wide berth, though I was very happy to tell the one person who asked me where I had gotten those oversized things that I was a pianist, and that protecting my hands at all times was of utmost importance. The news spread throughout the train, and thereafter, when people walked past me to go to the bathroom or to look for the
bento
seller, they gave me little smiles, which I ignored, preferring to stare haughtily out the window.
At Hitachi station, there was the usual transfer of passengers and the new passengers avoided sitting next to me because of my gloves. I was surprised when a young man plopped down in the seat opposite me, grinning as though we’d met long ago and had finally been reunited. I snuck a look at him. He was handsome in that self-aware way, with round eyes and full lips and a straight nose. Immediately I didn’t trust him. I always assumed that overconfident and good-looking boys thought they could get away with things, and planned to.
“Are you going to go boxing later today?” he asked me.
“Do I
look
like a boxer?” I asked.
“From what I understand, looks can be deceiving.” He grinned at me. “You never know what kind of physical power even a little girl might have.”
Who was he? Someone from Hachinohe who remembered how I had attacked Mineko? I scanned the car for other seats where I could move and be alone. But there were few. Most had little old ladies or drunk older men, and I wasn’t entirely certain that moving next to them would stop me from having to have these kinds of inane conversations.
“These are gauntlets,” I said, pronouncing the foreign word very slowly.
Gon-to-re-tto
.
“Are you expecting a sword fight with someone?” he persisted.
I hadn’t anticipated that he would know how the gloves were originally used.
“I read a lot of English literature. Mostly in translation, of course, though I try to read the original too.”
“In Hitachi?” I snorted.
“We have books in Hitachi,” he said soberly. “And if you learned to read by going to school in Tokyo …”
I raised my eyebrows.
“… at Keio University, then you would be able to read just about anywhere. Even in Hitachi. Anyway. It’s not like
you’re
from Tokyo either.”
I liked this directness, even though it was intended to humble me a little. “No,” I agreed. “I’m sorry. I play the piano. I’m trying to …”
“Protect your hands?”
“Yes,” I lowered my head. “And I guess I thought if I wore something this strange, people would leave me alone on the train. I have this fear that I’m going to run into
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