A train is coming. Is it yours?
~~~
Mother
The platform was an island of light in a sea of darkness, the vast trainyard swallowing all illumination beyond its narrow confines. Even the office buildings in the distance were shadows, their outlines faint against an onyx sky.
In that unlikely oasis was a young mother, Naomi. Bundled up in a heavy coat, she sat on one end of the platform’s single bench. Sleeping in a stroller next to her was her infant son, Kensuke. There was no one else. Above them, the old station clock with its weathered yellow face was frozen in time.
11:00
Naomi shuddered as if in great pain. In a way, it was like the morning sickness she felt during pregnancy. But this agony existed in her mind and, more importantly, was not hers. The feeling eventually passed, and when it did, she turned to look at its source. The row of offices behind her was dim but for a single, tiny light – a cigarette – emanating from a sixth-floor breakroom.
Naomi smiled at the light, although she knew the man who made it, her husband Junichiro, could not see her, at least not as she was now. A part of her wanted to call out to him as loud as she could, but she understood it would have no effect.
Knowing the pain would not come again for some time, Naomi turned her attention to her son. The boy looked so peaceful. Clutched in his small hand was a paper ticket for the 12:05 limited express. The mother patted the paper gently and smiled.
If only the train would arrive. Naomi looked up at the clock. Its hands had refused to budge for so long. What would, what could break them free and start moving again?
That’s when Naomi heard a noise, descending footsteps coming from the darkness to her left. Each was slow, deliberate, and left heavy echoes in the otherwise still winter air. She turned her head toward the sound as the figure emerged into the light.
It was Ai, her mother.
The clock’s second hand began to sweep.
11:01
For a moment, Ai did not budge. “Naomi,” she eventually said, taking a hesitant step toward her daughter and grandson.
Naomi unconsciously pulled the stroller closer as Ai sat down at her side. She remained silent and kept her eyes pointed at the ground.
“Is he asleep?”
Naomi nodded.
“Was he asleep when…”
“Yes,” she answered before her mother could finish.
“That’s good. I…I…” She reached into her pocket for a tissue. “I had always wondered. I had always hoped so.”
“I’m so sorry, mother.”
Ai straightened her back. “I’m not the one deserving of an apology.”
The younger woman nodded but said nothing.
“Naomi,” Ai said after a moment, her hand touching the ticket in her coat pocket. “I don’t know what’s after this. I’m not scared, but before that, I want to know what happened, why it happened. Please, I’m begging you.”
“There’s so much.”
“It’s okay. We have time.”
Nodding, Naomi took a deep breath.
11:05
“You see Yamada again today?”
“Oh, horse face? She always making us look bad, answering all the teacher’s questions. What a stuck up.”
Naomi waited for the two girls to leave before reappearing from the other side of the shoe locker. It was the end of the day, and she didn’t think anyone else was still at school. Like her, the other girls must have had clean-up duty. Walking home alone, she bit her lip to hold back the tears. A bitter copper taste filled her mouth.
Naomi’s mother was home that afternoon, a rare occurrence. The young girl muttered a greeting before retreating to her bedroom. Putting down her school bag, she sat down at her desk and stared into the mirror. Her fourteen-year-old self stared back. Beyond her dark eyes, all she could make out were the two girls’ cruelty.
Today wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened.
Naomi pushed aside the few bottles of cosmetics on her desk so she could rest her head. Face pressed against the rough wood, she wept. No boy would ever want to kiss her, hold her hand, anything.
The sobs became so much that Ai came in to check on her. Naomi, in her despair, poured out her heart to the person she loved more than anything.
What her mother said next, Naomi never forgot.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe it will be harder for you. But you will find a kind boy one day, Naomi, someone you know will love you for who you really are. When that day comes, you have to hang on tight to him. Don’t give him a reason to run away. Make sure he knows that you really love him. Good couples stick together, no matter what.
“Do you understand, dear?”
Naomi wiped away her tears. “I think so. I think so.”
11:08
Ai sighed. “That probably wasn’t the best advice. I didn’t have that problem growing up. I didn’t know what to say. If only you didn’t get your father’s genes.
“When you got engaged, I was thrilled. I was so happy. I really was.”
“You never thought that would ever happen to me, did you?”
Ai’s voice was small. “No.” She wiped her eyes. “Maybe that’s why I encouraged you to study so hard. Maybe, maybe, I thought, you’d be the first woman in my family to make it on her own. You wouldn’t need a man to be happy.”
“Really?”
Ai nodded. “Really.”
Naomi bowed her head. “I wish…I wish you’d told me that then.”
“Me, too.”
Mother and daughter shared a laugh. The sound caused Kensuke to stir, but only slightly.
“When you started work after college, I thought my wish was coming true. I felt happy for you.”
“I was happy, too. It was liberating to be on my own.”
“Then you met Junichiro.”
“Then I met Junichiro.”
11:11
Naomi sighed as she lit her cigarette.
The smoking booth was empty, the only sound the ventilation system pulling the foul air into some device that turned cigarette smoke into harmless ash. It was one of the company’s products, Naomi recalled as she took her first puff. A Canadian employee had invented it.
If only the Canadian could invent that kind of device for her lungs. The thought made her chuckle.
The young woman paused to look out the window, where, below, the vast Shinagawa trainyard extended nearly forever. There, the people waiting on the dozen platforms resembled ants. In the far distance was a single billboard she could make out – a company promising [The Mark of Linear Motion. The phrase made no sense in English, even though she understood the language perfectly well.
Engineers like her had to.
The door to the smoking booth slid open, but Naomi didn’t notice until she heard a man’s voice speak to her.
“I’m sorry, but may I use your lighter? I forgot mine at my desk.”
“Oh, of course,” Naomi replied before recognizing who she was talking to. Her face turned to stone as she held the flame up to the man’s Peace cigarette.
“Thank you,” he said after taking a long drag. “I’m Takagawa, by the way. Junichiro Takagawa.”
“I know,” Naomi said matter of factly. “You are the one person around here who doesn’t need an introduction.”
“Is that so?” Junichiro took another puff. “To be honest, I get that feeling a bit too much.”
“It’s to be expected, as the president’s son. I’m Tanaka, by the way. Naomi Tanaka.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too. I must say, you likely work harder than most men in your position. I don’t know if you remember, but we’ve ridden the elevator a few times late at night to catch the last train home.”
“Oh, yes, of course. That’s why you look so familiar. Thank you, too. I wouldn’t be able to run things one day unless I knew what I was doing.”
Naomi smiled, but only slightly. “I hope that means I won’t be out of a job anytime soon, then. Keep doing your best, Mr. Takagawa.”
Naomi put out her cigarette and went back to work.
11:16
“That was rather bold of you, Naomi.”
Naomi grinned at her mother. “I wasn’t in love with him like the other young girls. Oh, they were always trying to get his attention. It must have annoyed him so much. Believing I wasn’t interested probably let him be his true self around me.”
“You’ve been frank with people since you were small. I don’t know where you got that from. Certainly not from me. Your father was already gone by the time you could make memories.”
“I figured if I was going to be independent, better act like a man than a woman. It made sense at the time.”
“Well, how long after that did it take for Junichiro to ask you out?”
Naomi laughed. “A week. I would have thought he was joking, but you should have seen it. He was almost shaking. That’s how I knew he meant it, that it wasn’t some act. And I figured, why not? I knew things wouldn’t go so bad that his father would fire me.
“What I didn’t expect was that things would go so well.”
11:19
“My father recommended this place.” They were Junichiro’s first words since sitting down. Around him and Naomi, diners in formal attire spoke softly. Soft music played in the background and elegant chandeliers hung overhead. “I’ve never been here before, though.”
“Is that so?” Naomi picked up the menu. She felt out of place, but only somewhat. There were plenty of other couples who had come straight from work.
“He takes clients here all the time. La Rochelle has the best French cuisine in Omotesando, he says.”
The smart-dressed water came, and they both ordered the tasting menu along with a bottle of burgundy.
“I hope I didn’t pull you away from work too soon,” Junichiro commented while fiddling with the silverware. “I know you have a big project due Wednesday.”
“Don’t worry. It’s on track.” Naomi smiled. “It’s Friday night, after all. Everyone deserves to relax sometimes.”
“That’s true.”
“Hey.” She leaned forward in her chair to whisper. “It’s okay. You can relax, too, you know?”
Junichiro took a deep breath. “Thanks. I’ve been wound up all day. Work. This.” The room’s soft light highlighted his faint blush.
The wine and appetizers arrived, and for a few minutes, they concentrated on the food.
“I was wondering something,” Naomi said while the waiter cleared away the first round of plates. “It might be personal, though.”
“What is it?”
“Just something I’ve noticed about you since I first started working at the company. The other women in the office, the secretaries and aides who really want your attention, you’ve never given it to them. Does that kind of thing bother you?”
Junichiro sipped his wine. “It’s been that way since high school. They find out who my father is and nothing else seems to matter. It’s never felt real.”
“Does this…does this feel real?”
“I think so. I really do. When we first talked, I got the sense that you were treating me like a person. No one’s ever really done that before.” For the first time that night, Junichiro looked Naomi in the eyes.
“If nothing else, Ms. Tanaka, thank you for treating me like a person.”
Naomi couldn’t hide her smile. “Thank you, Mr. Takagawa, for the same thing.”
From that moment on, the two relaxed around one another, the music became more beautiful, and the food that followed more delectable.
11:26
“That’s a sweet story, Naomi.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Mother and daughter paused to reflect. Ai took the ticket out of her pocket and examined it. “You know, I never thought it’d be a train.”
Naomi smiled. “Just like that story you read to me growing up. The two boys take the train to Heaven.”
“That was a beautiful story. But that train was a steam locomotive, not the last express to Atami.”
“It’s home for us, isn’t it? You think father is there waiting?”
Ai nodded. “I hope so. I hope he’s waiting in our old house.”
“You know, I didn’t fall in love with Junichiro until about a month after our first date. I never told you, but it was in Atami, too.”
11:28
“Atami?”
“My turn to show you somewhere special,” Naomi replied as they boarded the shinkansen at Shinagawa. The nonreserved car was nearly empty but for a few business travelers heading home. The train had already begun moving by the time they sat down.
“Thought you’d like a Friday night away from it all.” Outside, the streaking city lights gave off the impression that they were travelling among the stars.
“It has been a while.” Junichiro let himself relax in the seat.
“I didn’t see you in the office all week. Business trip?”
“I was in Taiwan with my father. Negotiations. Contracts. That sort of thing.”
“Well, I’ll make sure to get you home safe in the morning.”
“Morning?”
“Of course. It’s nearly midnight. This is the last shinkansen until dawn.”
“Oh…okay.”
The ride took only a half hour. Naomi led Junichiro out of the small station and into the hilly backstreets leading down to the oceanfront. “This is the house where I grew up,” she said after passing by one nondescript two-story home. Its façade was long past due for some new wood slats.
“And over there is where I went to elementary school,” she commented a few minutes later. Above them, moths bumped into the streetlights illuminating their path.
“Ah, here we are,” she said at last, sliding open the door to a nighttime café. Inside, fans muted the late summer heat. A businessman in a crumpled suit slept soundly at one of the three booths lining the far wall.
“Naomi,” a happy voice called out. Its owner was a middle-aged woman in a smock. She came out from the back and put Naomi in a bear hug. “It’s been forever. How are you?”
“Better now.” Naomi straightened her clothes. “Mrs. Tainaka, this is Mr. Takagawa. We work together in Tokyo. I’m showing him around the old neighborhood tonight. Mind if we take a booth for a few hours? I want him to see the sunrise at Sun Beach.”
“Of course. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Naomi and Junichiro took the booth near the door. Tacked onto the wall beside them were ads for different whiskey sours and a rusted license plate.
“Mrs. Tainaka’s been a family friend since I was a baby. Growing up, I spent a lot of afternoons in here doing my homework.”
“She seems like a wonderful person.”
Mrs. Tainaka delivered snacks along with a pot of fresh coffee.
“My father really loved his place.”
“Do your mother and father still live here?”
Naomi shook her head. “My father died when I was three. Heart attack at his job. Mom got insurance but still had to work a lot when I was in high school. I had a job at the Family Mart just around the corner from here to help with bills. You work growing up?”
Junichiro shook his head. “Father forbid it. He wanted me to focus on school. I wasn’t even allowed to join a club until college.”
“What did you eventually choose.”
Junichiro grinned. “Swimming.”
“Oh, that does sound fun. Swimming around here is wonderful in the summer. Were you any good?”
“Won only one match. Usually bronze medal.”
“Better than me. I always came in dead last in track.”
The comment brought them both to laughter.
They talked until near dawn, when Naomi led Junichiro down to the shore. Along the concrete boardwalk was an old bench. “This will be good.”
As the sun rose over the Pacific, Naomi gazed at Junichiro’s face. He looked peaceful in a way she had never seen a man look before. More than calm or undisturbed…almost serene.
In that singular moment, Naomi imagined everything she thought she’d never have: a family, a true home of her own – the happy life that had been robbed from her mother so many years ago. It could be hers.
It would be hers.
11:38
“And that’s the moment I fell in love with him.” Naomi paused to stroke her son’s dark hair. “I’d never been in love before, but I knew it then, mother. I knew he was a good man.”
Ai shifted in her seat. “He did seem that way to me, too. The only thing that seemed off was his moodiness. But I figured there wasn’t anything deeper to it. Some men are just that way, and with all the pressure he was under, it didn’t surprise me. But how quickly he…” she trailed off.
“But you two were happy, though, for a while, right?”
Naomi nodded. “The first year was Heaven. His parents must have spent a fortune on our wedding. And then the condo. Even his mother, you remember how she was, cried at the ceremony.”
“They were both very stern people. The wedding was the only time I ever saw Junichiro’s father smile.”
“Yes, we were happy. And then Kensuke came, and neither of us was happy anymore.”
11:41
“I don’t see why it would be a problem. A lot of mothers go back to work.”
Standing in the living room, Naomi cradled Kensuke in her arms. Junichiro sat in the kitchen a few feet from them. It was early morning, and neither parent had slept much the night before. She had been up most of the night with Kensuke, and he had returned home from work after midnight.
Junichiro could not hide his frustration. “Why are we talking about this again?”
Naomi took a few steps closer to him. “Kensuke’s four months old now. He can go into daycare. There are so many great services. People could even come here.”
“Naomi, didn’t we talk about this before you got pregnant? We don’t need a second income. My parents gave us…” Eyes wide, he paused to gesture around their three-bedroom condo. “All of this as a wedding present so you could stay home when the time came. Don’t you know how many families in this country don’t have that luxury?”
“But I just think…”
“Enough!”
The outburst woke up Kensuke, who started wailing. His mother unconsciously took a few steps back. She had never heard Junichiro yell before, not to her, not to anymore.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” Junichiro muttered, his hands trembling. After an uncomfortable pause, he added, “I’m not saying no forever, but today, today isn’t a good day to talk about it. It just isn’t. Please.”
“Okay…have a good day at work.”
Alone with her son, Naomi tried to distract herself with television and light housework. However, there wasn’t much to do, and even if there had been, she wouldn’t have been able to ignore Junichiro’s outburst. It couldn’t, it wouldn’t leave her mind. It was as if someone else had taken over his body, if only briefly.
In her heart, this worry festered alongside a greater heaviness, a numbness that hadn’t seemed to grant her any relief since Kensuke’s birth. She knew physical exhaustion well enough from work, but this was something else, something deeper, something primal.
The feeling grew each time she fed, bathed, or changed Kensuke. And they made the days, each one a repetition of the one before, seem all the longer.
Dawn turned to day turned to dusk.
Kensuke’s crying roused Naomi from a long nap. It was nearly 8:00 PM, and she had slept for hours.
And still felt exhausted.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Naomi’s voice was barely a whisper. She mechanically changed her son’s diaper. “You hungry, too?”
Kensuke didn’t take her nipple. Sighing, Naomi laid him back down in the crib.
“What are you?” The mother whispered without thinking. She touched her son’s hair. He felt real enough. But was this child actually hers?
Naomi went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. On her phone she read a message from Junichiro – another late night.
Her imagination conjured the sight of her husband with another woman. And why wouldn’t he, Naomi thought, using her free hand to squeeze her still-flabby stomach. She had nothing left to offer. She had given him a child. That’s all his father had ever wanted. Is all that Junichiro ever wanted?
Now, the tears would not stop, not stop for hours. She went into the den to cry, wanting to spare her son the pathetic sound.
That night, as had been the case on so many recent nights, Naomi was the baby.
The baby and the fool.
11:46
Ai wiped her eyes. “I wish you’d come to me, Naomi. I felt that way, too, after you were born. A lot of new mothers feel that way.” Her breath caught in her throat. “Was Junichiro really cheating on you?”
Naomi shook her head. “I never checked. I didn’t have the courage to. I don’t think so, though. Maybe it was just my mind making things up. . .Did father ever cheat on you?”
“No spouse can be sure, but I think he was loyal until the end.”
“What I did…it wasn’t just the sadness or suspicion, mother. A week before…Junichiro hurt me.”
11:50
The slap was strong and without warning.
Naomi tumbled to the ground, the paper bag she had been holding falling with her. She instinctively protected her face. But another strike didn’t come. There was only the sound of something akin to a wild animal retreating with its prey. Junichiro had lunged for the bag before locking himself in the master bathroom.
The fear of what would happen next pinned Naomi to the floor, the last hours replaying in her mind. Junichiro had been sick in bed all day, struck with something like the flu without the temperature. Nothing seemed to help him. And, then, a knock on the door – a woman she had never seen before. The woman seemed shocked but handed over a small paper bag. Within it was an unmarked bottle of pills.
The brief conversation must have roused Junichiro. He seemed manic in that moment he raised his hand to her.
Junichiro did not reappear until the next morning. Wearing a thin cotton robe, he still looked horrible, but human. Naomi lay motionless on the couch. A light red welt covered the left side of her face.
He kept his distance and spoke with a low stutter. “You should have got me up. I didn’t mean to…I…there are some things that are not your business, Naomi. I’m sorry. It won’t…it won’t happen again. I promise.” It was only then that he heard Kensuke crying in the other room.
“I’ll…I’ll take care of Kensuke today. This won’t happen again,” he muttered one more time before going into the baby’s room.
Naomi wanted to yell, to scream, to tell him that he had no right to touch her child anymore. But nothing came out but mumbles.
12:01
“That’s when I decided to die with Kensuke.”
Ai looked into her lap, processing everything she’d just heard. “Naomi, I have to know something. Did you ever think that Junichiro would be violent toward Kensuke the same way he was to you? Is that why you…did it with him? To spare him?”
Naomi bowed her head and closed her eyes.
“No.”
Ai turned her head away lest Naomi see her disappointment. “Thank you for telling me.” She took the ticket out of her pocket and examined it. “The train will be here soon, you know.”
“I know. Kensuke has his ticket.”
“And you?”
Naomi smiled softly at her mother. “Remember what you told me so long ago? Couples stick together, right?”
At that moment, Naomi shuddered. She hugged herself and rocked back and forth for a few seconds.
“What is it?”
Naomi looked up to where her husband’s figure was barely visible in the dim cigarette light. “Junichiro’s pain. The way he felt when he saw it happen. It comes in waves.”
Ai had no response. Out of the darkness came a low rumble and the rush of wind. A four-car train slowly pulled alongside the platform. The brightly lit interior was empty of passengers or advertisements. The doors slid open.
“Now, go. You don’t want to miss it.” Taking one last look at her son, Naomi pushed the stroller toward her mother. “Tell father I love him. Tell him I’m so happy I could give Kensuke his name.”
“I promise.” Hands shaking, Ai took hold of the stroller and boarded the train. The doors slid shut. Mother and daughter locked eyes. The train disappeared into the darkness, heading, Naomi hoped, to the Heaven she had imagined as a small child.
“I wish you knew,” Naomi whispered once the platform became silent again. “I wish you knew he was in a better place.” She looked up at the clock. The hands had stopped at…
12:05
Within that frozen moment, days, weeks, years, decades, centuries, millennia, or even eons may have passed. And throughout the endless light, the pain came faster and faster. It became so much that, for a time, there was no more Naomi. Only memory existed. Junichiro’s.
Father
The fourteen-year-old boy sat alone in his dark bedroom. Even with the sheets pulled over his head, he could hear his parents arguing in the hallway.
“It’s not the end of the world. Junichiro needs to see a specialist. They can treat him!”
“And what if word got out, Keiko? The board finds out that I have a bipolar son, and what next? They’ll think I’m the same way! It’ll be the end of absolutely everything.”
“What are you planning to do, then? The mood swings will only get worse. He could hurt someone, Akihito.”
“I’ll think of something. Dr. Ishii has been with our family for twenty-five years. I know he won’t talk. He’ll just need to…figure out a way to treat Junichiro while…keeping everything quiet.”
Keeping everything quiet began three days later. Just after breakfast, Keiko silently entered her son’s room carrying a small silver tray. On it was a glass of water, a pill bottle, and handwritten instructions.
“Dr. Ishii thinks this will help you,” she explained, setting the tray down on Junichiro’s desk, where he sat reading a comic book. His face looked aged and tired. Being out of school for a week hadn’t helped, either.
“Will it make it go away?”
“Mostly. You just have to take one a day. This medicine may not be the best, but Dr. Ishii will check in on you in a month to see how things are going. You should feel a lot better soon, though.” Keiko opened the bottle and handed her son a single pill. “Drink all the water with it.”
“Thank you, mother.”
“I’m sorry you had to hear all that yelling.” She was on the verge of tears. “But there is something you have to do for your father, you have to do for me.”
“What is it? I promise.”
“Never tell anyone about this. Never ever.”
Junichiro nodded his head.
“Okay.”
* * *
“Good morning, Mr. Takagawa.”
The three receptionists’ voices were light, airy, and sweet. Six days a week for the last year, they had greeted Junichiro each morning with the same reverence once reserved for feudal lords in their castles or God Almighty in his churches.
Junichiro hated it.
“Good morning,” he replied with a detached kindness before heading to the elevator bank. The antique clock hanging above the steel doors informed him that only seven hours had passed since he left the night before.
With the doors shut behind him, Junichiro yawned and stretched. Always exude confidence around others. He could almost hear his father’s voice in his head. But what was the harm of letting down one’s guard in the privacy of an elevator?
The sixth floor – engineering and general administration. Dropping off his laptop bag, Junichiro allowed himself the pleasure of a can of hot coffee and a cigarette in the break room. Below, hundreds of people crowded the train platforms.
His secretary arrived soon after and promptly delivered a cup of green tea to his desk. “I hope you enjoy it, Mr. Takagawa,” she said with a smile better suited to a fashion magazine than an office.
“Thank you, Ms. Ito.”
The young woman, fresh out of college, blushed slightly. “You can call me Mei, you know? It’d be just between us.”
Junichiro’s reply was prompt. “I’m not sure that would be professional.”
Mei frowned slightly before retreating back to her desk in the adjoining room.
Junichiro returned to his work, but the brief exchange did not leave his mind. Did his father ask Mei to flirt with him? Was that the only reason he hired her? The thoughts swirled faster and faster, and even the pill he took that morning could not diminish their intensity.
Midmorning, Junichiro had had enough. Grabbing his pack of cigarettes, he walked briskly to the break room. There he could find a little peace with some nicotine and the view of the train yard. Instead, he found an employee who seemed vaguely familiar. His pockets coming up empty, he spoke his first genuine words of the day.
“I’m sorry, but may I use your lighter? I forgot mine at my desk.”
The following conversation was brief, and when Junichiro was alone at the end of it, he couldn’t help but smile.
* * *
Far below the widebody jet, Taiwan’s rugged coastline seemed to stretch on forever, the beaches and crags bathed in beautiful morning light. Junichiro let himself take in the magnificent sight for a few minutes until all he could see was the Pacific Ocean’s peaceful blue tones.
“You’ve always loved the view,” Akihito commented from the adjoining business-class seat.
The offhand comment made Junichiro recall the litany of coasts he’d seen throughout his life – California’s browns, Australia’s reds, Ireland’s greens.
“I guess I have,” he commented, turning his attention to his father.
“Any plans for the weekend? I would say you’ve earned it. You held your own this week during the negotiations. They were very fruitful.”
Junichiro waited to reply until the steward had finished taking their breakfast order. “I’m seeing that woman again tonight. Ms. Tanaka.”
Akihito sighed. “Of all the pretty faces in the office, you pick the…” He paused to choose his words. “The most serious of them. I don’t get it.”
Junichiro bit his lip. “She’s a very intelligent woman, father.”
“I know it. I pulled her file after you two went out a few weeks ago – master’s in engineering from Kyoto University. Professors had nothing but praise to say about her during the interview process. The supervisors she has now are the exact same way.”
“Isn’t…isn’t that enough?”
The father pressed his lips together. “You know, it should be. No, it is. It is.” He straightened up in his seat and loosened his tie. “That said, do you need another reservation?”
Junichiro shook his head. “No. She’s taking care of everything. She says it’s a secret.” He grinned.
“Women and their secrets.” The word caused the older man to pause. “How’s your mood these days, Junichiro?”
The son lowered his eyes, realizing that only at times like these did his father call him by his first name.
“There’s been no change since the last time you asked.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Father and son said nothing else to one another for the remainder of the flight back to Tokyo.
* * *
“I don’t think the medication is working anymore.”
The doctor, a younger woman in a smart business suit, nodded to herself. “What makes you say that, Mr. Takagawa?”
Junichiro leaned back in his office chair and sighed. “I knew being a new father wouldn’t be easy. I knew there’d be more stress. But a lot of old anger has been coming back lately. It hasn’t been this bad since I was a teenager. Just this morning, I yelled at my wife. I’ve never treated Naomi like that before. Never.” Visibly embarrassed, he trailed off a few words later.
The doctor made a note on her pad. “I’ve reviewed your history extensively since taking over for Dr. Ishii five years ago. Is it time to change medications? Perhaps. Aging means that some drugs no longer work as well as they once did. However…”
“Yes?”
“You’ll need to stop taking your current medication, get it out of your system before we start you on something new. Considering how long you’ve been on it.” She paused to check her notes. “Over ten years, I’d say there is a serious chance of withdrawal symptoms.”
“How bad?”
“Nausea, chills, mood swings. It won’t be pretty, but not life-threatening. If you want, there’s a private facility where you could…”
“No,” Junichiro interrupted. “I’ve been away from home too much as it is. I think Naomi believes I’m seeing another woman.”
“If you are, there’s the issue of…”
“I’m not. I don’t want to spend any more time away from her and the baby. I’ll tell her I’ve come down with a bug, and that she should keep her distance for a few days until I recover. I assume you’ll drop off what’s necessary at my home.”
“Yes. I’ll text you in advance to keep things discreet. Besides, I need a few days to source the medication. Getting around the Ministry of Health’s tracking system isn’t as easy as it was in Dr. Ishii’s day.”
“Thank you.”
She packed her belongings. “It’s not my business, Mr. Takagawa, especially considering how well your family pays me, but I suggest telling your wife about your condition. Bipolar is heredity.”
Junichiro didn’t reply as the doctor left his office. Mei appeared a few moments later with a cup of hot tea. “How was your meeting with the client, sir?”
“Fine.”
Fine was the last word Junichiro would use to describe himself five days later. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he saw what, at best, could be described as a wreck of a human being. Pajamas drenched with sweat, he wrestled with the pill bottle’s plastic cap. When it gave, he had to steady his body against the marble countertop to shake out the single pill the instructions told him to take.
The plastic capsule was bitter, and he swallowed it with only a tiny sip of water. Anything more would cause him to vomit. How many times had he vomited today? He’d lost count around five.
He waited for his stomach to settle before taking another meager sip. It’ll be over soon, he thought over and over. He dragged himself back to bed, where, a few hours later, the pain finally stopped.
The absence of agony the following morning felt like Heaven. He reached for his phone, where, clear as day, was the doctor’s message from the night before saying she was coming up to the condo, that he should be ready to meet her at the door.
It was the message he had missed.
Recalling what happened next, Junichiro held up his right hand, the hand that still felt sore from striking Naomi’s face.
He cursed under his breath.
* * *
Junichiro left the light off as he entered the sixth-floor break room. He needed a smoke but didn’t want the memories of this place to take away the little comfort the nicotine gave him. Even so, the small room did not let him forget that this was where he and Naomi first met. On so many late nights, they had talked, smoked, laughed, and, occasionally, fucked here. For all he knew, this was the room where they conceived Kensuke.
“What the hell am I going to do now?” He muttered to himself after taking his first drag. He stared off into the distance, where the Shinagawa train yard was slowly winding down after another long day. Out there, the world didn’t know that he had hit his wife, that they hadn’t spoken more than ten words to each other in the past week.
Junichiro was lighting his second cigarette when his phone rang.
“Hello,” he answered. “Naomi. Is everything all right?”
“I see you, Junichiro.” Naomi’s voice was unusually calm and collected. “Do you use Kensuke and me? Track eleven.”
Junichiro’s eyes spotted them in the distance. There, a barely recognizable figure stood facing up at him. In its arms was an infant.
“Yeah. What’s going on? You both should be…”
“I don’t ever want you to forget this.”
And with that, the figure took a single step back, fell off the platform, and disappeared into oblivion just before the last train of the night effortlessly slid over them.
For a brief second, Junichiro could not process what he had just seen. His wife and son were there…and then they weren’t. His body reacted before his mind, his fingers dropping the cigarette and his legs running out of the room.
He stumbled many times down the stairs. In the office lobby, he fell once against the hard granite floor. Everything was a blur, even the station attendant who tried to stop him when he broke through the ticket gate.
Only two minutes had passed when he arrived at the platform.
“I’m sorry, sir, there’s been an inc…”
He pushed the middle-aged man to the ground and ran to where he had seen Naomi and Kensuke fall. Thankfully, the train’s body obscured the worst of it, with only a splash of blood visible along the tracks. Yet that simple sight brought Junichiro to his knees and his stomach’s contents spewing out of his mouth. He gasped for air and reached out to the abandoned stroller to support himself.
It took two police officers to pull him away. He cried out his wife and child’s names for many minutes, only stopping after a paramedic administered a strong sedative.
* * *
Inhale.
Exhale.
Of all the things his mind could have conjured at that moment, Junichiro recalled a documentary he’d seen as a boy. In it, a young artisan living in some country village used a foot-powered pottery wheel to shape clay. In just a few minutes, he transformed the wet lump into an elegant urn. It glowed red hot in the kiln for many hours. Using long tongs, the artisan transferred the nearly molten vessel into a bed of straw, where its heat ignited everything it touched. Polishing the urn the next day revealed a magnificent pattern of browns, reds, greens, and blues.
Now, a similar urn sat on Junichiro’s living room table. He wondered if that same man he watched as a boy had made it, had known that his creation would hold the ashes of a young woman and her infant son.
Junichiro let his eyes fall into his lap, where only his black suit and shoes were visible. His parents, sitting in chairs opposite him, wore nearly identical clothes.
It was Keiko who broke the silence that had persisted since they had returned from the funeral. “The ceremony was…peaceful. Thank you, dear, for arranging it so quickly.”
Akihito sat up and cleared his throat. “It was no problem. No problem at all.”
Junichiro raised his head. “Thank you for taking care of everything, father.”
“Of course.”
Keiko attempted to smile. “And we can have the internment whenever you’re ready. We’ll all go together. As a family.”
The family grave in Nagano was a small plot in a secluded cemetery once reserved for nobility. It was a place cast in shadows, one that scared Junichiro the last time he’d been there as a child. The thought of Naomi and Kensuke resting there made him frown.
“And don’t worry about work,” Akihito added. “Take as much time as you need.”
His son nodded.
The small family sat in silence for many minutes. Beside them, the long afternoon light poured through the living room’s floor-to-ceiling windows.
It was Akihito who suggested that he and his wife leave. At the front door, Keiko did something that she hadn’t since her son was a boy.
She embraced him.
“Will you be all right on your own tonight?”
Junichiro returned his mother’s affection. “Yes. Naomi’s mother said she’d check on me in the morning.”
“Good.” Keiko stepped into the hall to give her husband and son some privacy.
“I meant what I said about work. Not until you’re ready.” The older man sighed. “What’s happened to you was a horrible thing. I can’t imagine. But…but there’s still time for you. You’ll find another good woman. You’ll get it right. I know it.”
Akihito bowed slightly before joining his wife.
Locking the door, Junichiro leaned his back against the hard surface and slid down to the floor. He remained there motionless for many hours until well after the sun had set.
When he did get up, his motions were light and airy. From his bedroom, he retrieved his bottle of pills, and from the kitchen, a bottle of whiskey. In the living room, he sat down in the same chair as before. He wanted to confess, apologize, and atone, but no words came. Besides, it was too late for that.
Junichiro took all of the pills, drank all of the whiskey, and prayed the artisan had left enough room for him.
Coda
Naomi’s consciousness gradually returned to the train platform. She leaned over and lay on the hard concrete seat. Even tightly shut eyes could not stop the flow of tears. The words that came from her mouth were so soft and small that she doubted anyone, even herself, could hear them.
“Kensuke, Junichiro, I’m so sorry.”
Eyes still clamped shut, Naomi heard a sound approaching. It was another train. Yes, this was the one carrying the demon that would drag her to Hell. Yes, this would be the proper punishment for her. Yes, this is what she deserved. She buried her face in the crook of her elbow and curled into a ball.
The train came to a stop, and its pneumatic doors slid open. A moment of silence passed before a single pair of faint footsteps approached her. The cowering woman imagined a beast raising a handful of claws sharper than any knife.
The figure took a final step forward, placed its hand on Naomi’s shoulder, and spoke in a gentle and calm voice.
“Mother…”
12:04
“The train is approaching. Because it is dangerous, please remain behind the yellow line.”
Naomi’s vision cleared, and she found herself standing just behind those worn yellow bumps separating life and death. In one arm, she cradled Kensuke, and in the other, she held her cell phone. It was dialing.
“Hello,” an exhausted Junichiro answered. “Naomi. Is everything all right?”
An impression, like one from the fading memory of a dream, instinctively caused her to step back.
“I’m…I’m down here.” Naomi’s voice was weak and small. “On track eleven. I…Kensuke and I need you…need you right now. You see us?” She looked up at the figure in the sixth-floor break room and waved.
There was a brief pause. “Yeah….yeah. I’ll be right there.”
The train pulled into the station the moment Naomi sat down. She held Kensuke close to her chest. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. It felt as if she’d been weeping for an eternity.
“What are you doing out so late?”
Naomi turned to the sound of her husband’s voice. Breathing heavily, he had clearly run down the office’s stairs and through the station. They were now the only ones on the platform.
“Sit down.”
Junichiro silently obeyed.
A moment passed in silence. Naomi tried many times to talk, tried many times to find the right thing to say. But there was no right thing. There was only the one thing. She told Junichiro what she had planned to do. The simple admission caused the color to drain from his face.
“I’ve been so depressed since giving birth, and then you hit me. But that wasn’t the worst of it. What’s the point of living when you can’t trust the person you love? What’s the point if you’re never going to be honest with me? Who are you? What are you?”
Junichiro bit his lip, and voice shaking, told Naomi everything – the diagnosis, the medication, and the withdrawals leading to his violence. “No more secrets,” he said at the end, barely able to catch his breath. “No more secrets.”
Naomi nodded and took her husband’s hand. “You…me…we need real help. And we’re going to get it. If for no other reason than our son. Do you understand?”
Junichiro took Kensuke in his arms and held him close. At that moment, the baby awoke, and two pairs of identical eyes stared at one another.
“Okay.”
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