I see, I said. Sensei’s hands lightly held the briefcase on his knees as he gave himself over to the rocking of the train. Both Sensei and the briefcase swayed back and forth in short, quick motions.
We rode the train together, we took the ferry together, we climbed the hill on the island together, and we came to this small guesthouse together.
Had Sensei given in and decided to go on a trip because of all my pleading that night—the night of the thunderstorm that heralded the rainy season? Or had he made up his mind about it, had a sudden change of heart, sometime after the storm had passed, while he lay quietly in the room next to where I too lay quietly alone on the extra bedding that Sensei had carefully spread out for me? Or was it that, for no particular reason and without any motivation, Sensei was seized with an urge to travel all of a sudden?
“Tsukiko, would you like to go to an island with me next Saturday and Sunday?” Sensei had said out of the blue. We were on our way home from Satoru’s place. The street was wet from the ongoing rain. Several puddles of water caught the reflection of the streetlights and they seemed to glow white in the night. Sensei didn’t bother trying to avoid walking in the puddles; he just kept going steadily ahead. I tried to sidestep them one by one, and so I weaved randomly this way and that, as opposed to Sensei’s swift progress.
“What?” I responded.
“Didn’t you suggest that we go on an excursion the other night?”
“An excursion?” I repeated Sensei’s words like an idiot.
“There’s an island that I’ve visited from time to time in the past.”
Sensei mentioned that he had often traveled to this island. For some kind of reason, he muttered.
What was the reason? I asked, but Sensei did not reply. Instead he quickened his step.
“If you’re busy, Tsukiko, I will go on my own.”
“I’ll come, I’ll come,” I replied hurriedly.
And so it was that I found myself here.
On the island where Sensei had traveled “for a certain reason.” At a small guesthouse. Sensei carried his same briefcase, and I carried a brand-new suitcase I had bought for the occasion. The two of us. Together. To be sure, we had separate rooms. Sensei had strongly suggested that I take a room with a view of the sea, while he took a room facing the island’s interior hillside.
No sooner had I deposited my luggage in the alcove of my seaside room than I was knocking on Sensei’s door. Knock-knock. It’s your mother. Open the door, dear little goats. I am not the wolf. Look how white my paw is.
Sensei simply opened the door, without bothering to look at my paw first.
“Would you like some tea?” Sensei grinned as he invited me in. I smiled back.
Sensei’s room seemed slightly smaller than mine, even though it was the same six-mat size. Perhaps because the window looked out on the mountain.
“Why don’t we go to my room? The view of the sea is lovely,” I said, but Sensei shook his head.
“A man mustn’t barge into a lady’s room.”
I see, I replied. You may barge in, if you like, I was about to add, but I didn’t think that Sensei would find that amusing, so I stopped myself.
I could not imagine what Sensei had in mind when he invited me on this trip. His face had betrayed nothing when I agreed to go along with him, and on the train he had been exactly the same Sensei as always. Even here, now, sipping tea, his manner was no different from at Satoru’s place when the counter was full and we ended up sitting across from each other at a small table.
Yet still, here we were, the two of us.
“Would you like another cup of tea?” I asked cheerfully.
“I would indeed, please,” Sensei replied. Even more jauntily, I refilled the teapot with hot water. I could hear seagulls crying out from the mountainside. The seagulls’ calls sounded rambunctious and rowdy. They seemed to be flying back and forth and all around the island during this hour of evening calm.
“WE’LL DO A circuit,” Sensei said as he stood in the guesthouse’s foyer putting on his shoes. When I went to put on a pair of sandals that had the name of the guesthouse written in marker, Sensei paused.
“This island is surprisingly hilly, with rough terrain,” he said, pointing to my shoes that were placed neatly in the shoe cupboard. They had just the slightest heel. When I wore them, the top of my head reached Sensei’s eyes.
“But my shoes aren’t fit for walking hills,” I replied, and Sensei frowned faintly. So faintly that no one else would have noticed. However, now even the subtlest changes in Sensei’s facial expressions did not escape me.
“Sensei, please don’t make that face.”
“What face?”
“Like you’ve seen something that bothers you.”
“There’s nothing in particular bothering me, Tsukiko.”
“Something’s bothering you.”
“That’s not the case.”
“No, no matter what anyone else says, I think there’s something bothering you!”
It had devolved into a silly argument. I slipped on a pair of the guesthouse sandals and followed after Sensei. Empty-handed, Sensei wore a vest, his posture stick-straight as he walked along slowly.
The evening calm had passed and a light breeze had begun to blow. There were cumulonimbus clouds along the horizon on the beach. The sun, about to set into the sea, bathed all of the clouds in a pink light.
“How long does it take to circle the island?” I asked, out of breath from the hill. Just like that time we went mushroom hunting with Satoru and Toru, Sensei was not the least bit winded. He climbed the island’s steep slopes without any difficulty.
“At a quick pace, about an hour.”
“At a quick pace?”
“At Tsukiko’s pace, it would probably take about three hours.”
“Three hours?”
“You ought to exercise more, Tsukiko.”
Sensei just kept steadily walking along. I gave up trying to keep in step with him, stopping midway up the hill to look at the sea. The setting sun was getting closer to the water. The cumulonimbus clouds were deepening to a flaming vermilion. I wondered where we were. What the hell was I doing here, on a hillside in some strange fishing town, surrounded by the sea? Sensei’s figure up ahead of me grew more distant. His back seemed somehow cold and remote. Despite the fact that we had come on this trip together—even if it was only a two-day trip—I felt as if the person moving steadily away from me, Sensei, was a stranger.
“Don’t worry, Tsukiko,” Sensei turned around to face me.
What? I said from down below on the slope. Sensei gave a little wave of his hand.
“It’s only a little bit farther from the top of this hill.”
Is the island really that small? Climbing this hill puts us all the way around the island? I asked. Sensei waved his hand again.
“Tsukiko, don’t be absurd. How could that possibly be?”
“But you said…”
“We couldn’t make it all the way around with someone as out-of-shape as you along, and wearing those sandals, no less.”
He was still stuck on the sandals. Hurry up! Don’t just stand there! Sensei hastened me along as I held my head high.
“Where the hell are we going anyway?”
“Stop grumbling now, and come up here.”
Sensei had swiftly climbed the slope. The last part of it was even steeper, as it circled around the hill. I could no longer see Sensei. Hastily I slid my feet farther into the sandals and followed after him. Sensei, please wait for me. I’m on my way. I’m coming now, I said as I followed him.
When I reached the top of the slope, I found myself at the summit. It was spacious and wide open. There were tall, dense trees along the path that continued up from the slope. Several houses were nestled among the trees, forming a hamlet. Each home was bordered by small plots in which cucumbers and tomatoes were being grown. Beside the fields were chicken coops, and I could hear the serene sound of clucking from beyond the rough chicken wire.