“Well, I’ll ask the people I know, anyway. They often talk about those kinds of things.”
“Was your answer before a ‘yes’?” Mariko asked Sedge.
“It’s a tentative ‘yes.’ It means I appreciate the offer, and I genuinely want to, but I need more time to convince myself I’m not imposing on you.”
“We wouldn’t ask you to if we felt you were. And besides, you don’t have more time.”
Embarrassed by his need, he had been avoiding Mariko’s eyes. Meeting them now, they shined with what he interpreted as worry and hope. “Then yes,” he said.
“You’ll move in with us?”
“I’ll move in with you.”
She leaned across the table and grabbed his hand.
“Why are you holding his hand?” Riku said.
“Because I’m happy,” she said, still looking at Sedge. “You should be, too. Our lives are about to get better. You’ll see.”
There was something funny in how quickly Sedge’s desperation disappeared once he accepted her offer—and in how he had somehow avoided a scenario he feared more than any other. He had told her before that he would never be forced to live on the street—which probably meant sleeping in all-night internet cafes—but it had been only his second-greatest worry. His greatest worry was that he would have to leave Japan, which meant, possibly, never returning. He mentioned this to them now.
Riku laughed and looked at him in surprise. “Why are you worried about returning to your country?”
“I’m getting too old to return and start over. And my life is here now. I want it to stay that way.”
Frowning, Riku said: “Who wants to see what I’ve done with the kura?”
“Sure,” Mariko said, unwilling to let go of Sedge’s hand. “Why don’t you lead the way?”
Sedge was impressed by the energy Riku had devoted to renovating the kura on his own. With money Mariko had given him for materials, he had covered the length of one earthen wall with stucco, leaving the vertical, evenly spaced support beams in it visible. Half the overhead beams had been sanded and polished dark brown, and one could see a wooden support he had added to the stairs. Looking past this, it seemed he had also installed lights in the second-floor ceiling.
“You have serious talent as a carpenter and designer,” Sedge said, his enthusiasm real. “Where’d you learn to do all this?”
“I taught myself. Do you really think I did all right? I’m not finished, you know.”
“I had no idea you’d made this kind of progress. You’re as skilled as a professional.”
Riku and Mariko laughed.
That night, Mariko explained that in exchange for making it livable she had to promise to buy Riku the best video game console he could find and let him install it there.
In the house, with Riku living in the kura, Sedge would have his own room. Until a bathroom was installed in the kura, Riku would come and go to use the one at the bottom of the stairs. When he needed to bathe, he would go to the hot spring baths at the edge of their village.
Except for using the bathroom and taking his meals, Riku had no reason to share the house with them, though Sedge suspected loneliness would sometimes bring him inside. Finding Riku more grown-up today, he would talk to Mariko later about how the three of them could regularly spend time together—not as a family, because they were far from being that, but as allies in the wearying search for love that wouldn’t risk again what they’d already lost.
He hoped the boy would learn to become more independent, and perhaps even find a girlfriend. But when Sedge raised the latter subject, Riku turned sullen and disappeared into the kura. The thuds and crashes that carried into the house made it clear he was tearing down much of what he’d fixed in order to live there. Sedge realized then that Riku must have thought he’d tried to humiliate him.
15
Sedge stayed at Mariko’s house every night while keeping his room at the ryokan, and now ate breakfast and dinner with Mariko and Riku. But he wanted to spend part of his days at the ryokan still, hoping he might repair his relationship with Takahashi and Yuki. He held no grudges against them; on the contrary, he was thankful for all they’d done for him after Nozomi disappeared.
At the ryokan he continued to frequent the tea lounge even though Mariko wasn’t working there now. He wanted Takahashi and Yuki to see him, as this might give them a chance to reach out. But as his last day approached, he realized the responsibility would fall on him.
On the day before they expected him to leave, Sedge approached Takahashi while he stood in the corridor, making space among the ryokan’s Kutani-ware exhibition for the two sake cups he had sometimes brought to Sedge’s room.
Takahashi looked up as Sedge came over.
“May I talk to you for a minute? If you’re busy, I can come back later.”
“Now’s fine. A large tour group will check in soon, but I have a couple minutes.”
Sedge was about to suggest they go somewhere and sit down, but a vague apprehension convinced him to say immediately what was on his mind. If things went well, maybe they could sit and talk more later.
“I wanted to thank you and Yuki for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t think I’d have made it to this point without your support.”
Takahashi returned Sedge’s bow.
“You and Yuki asked me to move out by tomorrow. But since I have a place to go, I decided to clear out a little early.”
“You’re moving today?”
“I’ll move what’s left in the next hour or two.”
“May I ask where you’re moving and what you’ll do?”
“For now, I think it’s better if I don’t say.”
Takahashi turned to the Kutani-ware he’d been rearranging. “You mean for Mariko’s sake . . .” He looked back at Sedge, blinking rapidly. “What do you two intend to do about your spouses?”
