Kanojo no Higeki

By Saoirse The Irish Colleen

I\'d like to think that I\'m still 11-years-old; eating chocolate rice balls with Obaa-sama and life was green tea wishes and sweet dumpling dreams. But a murderous storm woke me. When it rains, Odaiba sure does pour.

\"What do you mean it\'s been \'postponed\'?\" Miyako slammed her fists don ton the meal table. Who had ever heard of a funeral being postponed?

\"Miyako-chan, try not to be so loud. It isn\'t ladylike.\" Her mother admonished. Inoue Sumiko collected the chopsticks and dishes from dinner as her husband Fusanobu let out a disgruntled sigh over legal forms. \"Sumi, your family has a knack for putting everything in legalese,\" he arched a somewhat bushy eyebrow and looked pointedly at his youngest daughter. \"Although I like to think that your grandparents liked confusing people to their own advantage.\"

\" Fusanobu, let\'s not further this argument.\" Sumiko\'s voice echoed from behind the kitchen door. Defeated he turned back to the paperwork and didn\'t notice as Miyako retreatedthe the second floor of their home. Humph! Why did they have to pick up and move from Yokohama after Obaa-sama\'s cancer became terminal at the beginning of the summer? Aunt Reiko and Uncle Seiji stayed ensconced at their dozen acres in Kyoto while distant relations trudged in and out of Fushida Miyako\'s Meiji-era estate from the four-corners of the globe paying their respects. Every other week it seemed the home-care nurses increased her dosages of morphine and valium letting Obaa-sama gradually slip into a coma. It made Miyako sick to see one of her heroes waft into the next world before her eyes. But a great sigh was heaved after so many years of pain and Fushida Miyako succumbed two weeks ago.

For Sumiko- as primary caretaker for her dying mother and eldest child- it was a weight lifted off her shoulders. Okaa-sama a strong and quick-witted with tinsel streaked dark violet hair and high cheekbones seeing her wither away into a mesh of skin, bone, and a hank of hair was soul-wrenching. Wakamoto Reiko, the younger daughter was unable to stay for more than a week, as she was finding herself frequenting a hospital bed from numerous breakdowns. The cancer progressed alarmingly fast after chemo and experimental treatments were no longer an option. Once in remission for several years, the chances for a repeat cure were slim. Okaa-sama knew from her specialist\'s first grim expression. She was best for handing situations like these. \'What\'s death anyway? If it is the end then I wish to leave this world without feeling sick from drugs and surrounded by doctors and therapists instead of my family.\' No regrets. That\'s not how you are to begin the next life.

Miyako tripped over yet another box, still sealed with packaging tape from their move. Her room was technically out in the back yard. Tonight she would still sleep in a futon. Her home was a box maze. Her life was a maze and finding the cheese at the end was seemingly impossible. At 17, Miyako would have to wait another year until the thrill of blessed freedom. She fumed at the thought of Kaji-oniisan, Chizuru-neechan, and Momoe-neechan going about their lives- in Yokohama! Kaji was married with twin sons and took over his father-in-law\'s green grocery. Chizuru was just married to one of the surgeons at the children\'s hospital where she was an occupational therapist. And Momoe was in graduate school where she was going for a PhD in astrophysics. Fortune smiled on the Inoue children, mathematics came easy to them and they applied it to each of their own goals- Kaji, business; Chizuru, medicine; Momoe, a teaching position; and as for Miyako computers were her obsession. Art was also a great talent of hers. She had considered graphic design as a career choice but she wanted her creativity to ebb along into the 21st century. Japan was much too rigid; America was where it was at. But that took money, something that Miyako did not have at the moment aside from her earnings working at the family\'s convenience store. Fusanobu had toyed with the notion about adding on to their small supermarket in Yokohama- but in Odaiba? nobunobu and Sumiko knew eventually they would have to relocate because of Okaa-sama\'s rapidly declining health; still a second venture wouldn\'t be a bad idea, as long as they started out small. Fusanobu had left Yokohama six months in advance after a property had been obtained in Odaiba and Sumiko took over as manager of Aijou Mart for the time being.

At what used to be Electric Zak Video in the busy vicinity of Koeda Avenue and Third St., i-Village was having its grand opening. Its overwhelming grand opening. Fusanobu and younger brother Nagare both shrewd businessmen searched a full year for a specific location where a convenience store could be strategically-placed for the best business opportunities. In the strip mall-esque boulevard where bakeries, department stores, clothing, a few fast-food restaurants, the convenience store would surely be needed. What iced the cake was the Tokiwa Apartments tenement block down the street, Odaiba Gakuen and Odaiba University sharing campuses several blocks away, and Odaiba Junior High ten minutes away. Floods of students in the prime hours before first period class and after eighth period between juku and team sport practice made sure to load up on \'necessities\'- magazines, candies, buying lunch, bags of sweet peas, honeyed sesame treats, Nagare\'s takoyaki in a spicy sauce grilling on skewers purposely placed in front of the window. Freshly-squeezed yuzu juice and iced coffee for the upcoming summer swelter. Nagare and Sumiko had discussed opening up a sushi bar next door, but the subject was quickly halted when Fusanobu had decided turning over responsibilities of Aijou Mart to Nagare. Sushi could wait. The big move however, could not.

Miyako as expected, threw a near temper tantrum. So entrenched was she in Yokohama she threatened suicide. That too was expected. Sumiko handed her several folded boxes and told her to begin packing all of her books and hard and software. Her transfer papers from Haru Gakuen to Odaiba were in effect after her sophomore term was up. A toss of her mauve tresses and an upturned chin, Miyako had no choice but to concede. An outpour of grief from close friends in the computer and art clubs sent gifts of well wishes and tears upon visitation during her last few weeks in their Yokohama apartment. There was an upside to this rather abrupt life change; a house was purchased in Odaiba upon Miyako and Sumiko\'s official arrival a week later. Fusanobu drove his rather grouchy wife and youngest child from the train station after an arduous train ride where they nearly lost their bags- Miyako, her trusty purple iBook in a Jansport backpack misplaced on the luggage racks above- received nonstop bantering about when and where they were going to eat. He had all but brushed them off when he brought their SUV to a stop in front of a stucco white house with a cherry door.

\'What insanity are you up to now Fusanobu?\' Sumiko glared daggers at her husband. Snorting from the backseat Miyako folded her arms over her Jimmy Hendrix ty-dyed T-shirt.

\'Whatever it is I don\'t like it already.\'

Sighing the sigh of the down-trodden, Fusanobu let his arms hang limp. \'Will you two just look out your windows....\' Sumiko sat forward on the passenger sead and angled her head to the right. She blinked several times to see if her vision was properly focused. There was a nameplate on the matching white stucco fence, but was the Hiragana correct?

\'In... oue...? INOUE?!\' Sumiko leapt out of the car and Miyako began to unfasten her seatbelt. Running through the black iron gates, Sumiko had no problem opening the front door considering it was already unlocked. Familiar moving boxes were strewn about the rooms. A rich blue carpet had been laid down in the living room. The hardwood floors were buffed. A caableable and folding chairs had been set up temporarily in the dining room, steaming Chinese take-away at the ready. The kitchen door swung open and Nagare drying a dish appeared.

\'Oy, okairi nasai.\' Sumiko\'s eyes shone with glee and her husband arrogantly struck a pose in the doorway.

\'Omedetou, Sumi.\' A shout from the outside let him know Miyako was equally impressed and she rushed in, roughly pushing aside her father.

\'Where is it?! Where is my room?!\' Miyako bounded up the stairs not waiting for an answer. \'Take your pick, kiddo! You\'re old enough!\' Sumiko approached her husband shaking her head.

\'Thank you Fusanobu.\'