Chapter 2
Janine Mantilla
WHEN I shopped around a second-hand boutique in Harajuku to look for a dress, I sent a neon-pink one with a fur around its neckline picture to Masato.
“It doesn't imitate your Yumeko baby,” I texted and send.
It was midnight when he sent me his reply:
“Do you want to receive a zero payment for wasting my time?”
“When's your free time anyway? Meet me up at a dance studio later. I'll send you the address.” SMS sent.
And that's when I bought that neon-pink dress. With bountiful fur around my neck it reached my chin when I have to argue and drag this wooden boy to a dance class.
“We got to have a groove, man. I swear! Nobody's convincing anyone with you looking like your blood has been drained for a trivial body contact. Stop making a big deal out of it!”
He didn't speak. Instead he goes along like a cranky robot. And now he's dancing like a robot. And now I'm irritated.
“You know what, Masato. If I'm doing the heavy lifting here, I should get paid accordingly.”
“Nice try,” he chirped and moved his cranky feet to a stiff glide on the right. We're practicing a social dance called modern waltz. This is for the “black-tie occasion” and for making his Yumeko baby go jealous. “From what I can remember, there's no dancing.”
“Nai, nai.” Shaking my head vigorously in dismissal. “You invited me as a double-edged sword. You forgot about your Yumeko dear?”
He lowered his gaze to look at me in disbelief. “Being seen next to me is enough. How did that not register to you?”
My face fell flat.”Boy,” my tone fell flat too. “I have a job here. And that is to make your darling go jealous she realizes she has feelings for you after all. That's it. We either do it my way and cooperate. Or you do it your way and gain nothing while I siphon my money.”
“Your money?” His tone raised before averting his gaze away above me. “Masaka. What a good way to cash in, Pina.”
I clicked my tongue and tilted my head. “Sunk cost fallacy, man. Sunk cost fallacy. You keep on operating when you're obviously losing. Don't take it on me. I'm a diligent employee.”
He scoffed. “I could give you a raise if you fine tune your attitude right. Try softening your language and don't get too assertive.”
Money. My eyes shimmered at the sound. We keep following the ¾ beat of the waltz going in circles as the dancing coach kept counting around the group of dance students. Mostly oba-sans and oji-sans.
Okane~
“Hai, Sakurai-sama. I don't think it's a sunk cost fallacy after all. It's too presumptuous of me. Are you tired? We can take a water break now.”
“Now, don't overstretch, you start sounding like an AI. It complements your tacky dress.”
“Mou! What the hell do you want? I should be having lessons on how to be a very demure, very innocent and very pure girl here!”
Our dancing coach halted his counting and so is everybody. All eyes on us, we also stopped. Masato let go of his hold to our waltz posture. A pressed whisper reached my hearing. ”Kuso.”
He quietly breathed in, and started bowing before them.
“Suimasen.” He bowed here. “Suimasen.” He bowed there. “Suimasen.” He bowed everywhere. “My girlfriend can't decide if she's going to a matsuri or a dinner date with me,” he finally said.
“That’s not what I heard,” one oba-san remarked.
I followed suit to his bow and apologized. “Gomenasai! My boyfriend doesn't like my dress. Gomenasai! I'm just angry he called it tacky.” When I raised my head, I made that try-hard moe face which I practiced well for Ito-san.
“You conniving, cheating, lying Pi—”
“Young man, are you berating your girlfriend now?” an oji-san interrupted.
Then I formulated a sob. I weakly punched Masato's nearest shoulder. “Kirai na. Let's break up.” Then I walked out.
As if I will let you get away that easy. Kawai sou!
I walked out from the dance studio up to the vacant garage until I reached the staircase, I heard him follow behind me.
“I hope you're happy now. I just received a mouthful lecture from an oji-san,” he mumbled.
“Serves you right,” I replied, turning my head to see him carrying his coat in one arm before I climbed the staircase.
That activity didn't come to fruition, which can be quite a bummer. I paid for that class! I guess I'll just have to transfer those expenses back to that robot dancer, Masato. Also, so was the drink he ordered from the pub last time. With a compound interest, that is. Hihi. Maybe around 40% interest rate plus principal.
I later came back from my hustle. My current station is located at the bar counter, since all of my nee-san or ātē began dressing up before the store opens.
One ātē came up to me. “I see you’re having a fine man last time, Janine. Is he good?” She nudged her elbow at me. “Comes with the big money? Ne?”
“The opposite. Tight on his purse, I'm paid for only about cents of what you make.”
“E?” She drawn her word out in disbelief. “Are you sure?” Then she grew quiet. She made a slight nod. “Care to lend me some money, Janine? I've stretched my last bill this previous week. I promise, I'll pay you when I get my pay.”
Yeah, a bullshit with those broken lines. You say that to everyone. You wouldn't even return what you borrow until all of your creditors will put out a complaint. Or in the case of this pub, nasty fights like a verbal sparring against another ātē you owe money with.
This senpai of mine has a captivating charm. She's funny, attentive to flatter a man and with an enthralling wit to let her silver tongue stir a man's ego. The men’s pockets suddenly becomes bottomless once she have them hooked. Top hostess in our ranking. That's why, when she's lucky to have a generous client, she's in for what we call “paldo.” The yen drops on her lap big time.
But this senpai of mine is also careless with her mutli-million cash out. By the time she has it, she invites everyone to celebrate and to eat somewhere at an expensive restaurant for her “blow-out.” Which can be quite nice, since I get to eat free foods. But if her multi-million cash wasn't exhausted yet and she feels like her pockets are still deep, you will see her going to a shopping sprint in Ginza. Buying vanities and the most excessive material shit like watches and gold necklaces all over the district.
But my senpai forgets all her obligations by the time she has all the means to honor them. Fuck if I'm one among the many of this pub who will complain because a substantial money she borrowed wasn't returned. I'll end up stabbing her in the back and calling her words like bitch out of resentment.
No way. I got a tuition fee to deal first.
“I got none, ātē,” says my weary-inflected reply. “I used it for my tuition.”
“Ah, sou! You still go to school? No need, Janine.” She laughs and walks near the counter top to lean from it as she watches me with interest. “No need to go to school now. Just find a rich man to marry. You know you can find them while you're young. Ha… I wish I could've just snagged one when I'm still your age. Even if he's an old man. I'll just have to wait and have a new man again when he's dead.” She bursts out laughing.
My senpai barely made it to high school. She dropped out when she's near the graduation ceremony. Then flew somewhere at a seedy place here in Shinjuku from the Philippines.
I tilt my head. “Rich men tend to upgrade these days, ātē. I heard Minato-ku girls are university students. If I want to keep up, I have to be a university student myself.”
“Ma—smarty pants.” She chuckled afterwards with animation, patting her dress to fix herself back. “Keep up the good work then, and study if that's what you want. Be sure to prepare the drinks before the pub opens.”
Then she's away to prepare herself for later. It was 15 minutes early before the opening when other ātēs came out with the theme of the day. Dressed with a bunny hair band in tight dresses.
“Damn that hentai. One Nihonjin couldn't be content caressing me everywhere, he really wanted to fondle my tits,” one ātē said.
Other ātēs laughed in chorus it spreads throughout the pub.
“Wasn't he the one who goes rabid for you? The one who keeps showing up at the entrance to pick you after work?” One ātē asked, a tall slender woman with ash-blonde dyed hair. She has features in her that are quite pretty. But she's prickly, she hates men. She's the hostess in the last ranking because her attitude comes first before pleasing her customers.
“Yeah," the ātē before replied, with petty annoyance she shrugged. “I didn't know the guy. I just played with him ‘cause I was bored one time. Now he looks like an obsessive creep. Whatever. It would be nice if he had the looks, but no. There's no consolation of him being a creep.”
Another ātē made a reproachful sound. “Ya… you led their hopes up and toy it, of course, Maria. That will come back at you.”
“I told him it's over,” came her defense.
“Enough with the chit-chat, ladies.” Mama-san tutted when she came into picture. “Save up your energy for later. Honestly, Maria, if you're any better, don't let the customers touch you inappropriately.”
“Mama-san…” she drew out her complaint. “How? Lean sideways like a shadow boxer and punch him by left hook?”
Both the ātē with ash-blonde hair and I giggled.
“Bring those macho muscles out, auntie. Who knows if you have that Pacquiao knockout in you,” the ātē with ash-blonde hair quipped.
“Like you’re any better, Mina? You could be a fine potential if it weren't for your snarky mouth. Try and do better, no? A last ranking for five months straight. Work your ass off,” Mama-san reprimanded. “And the rest of you: move.”
And so they dispersed like ants and began to go at the entrance. Once the pub opened, a loud “Irasshaimase!” boomed outside. Along with the repetitive calling of, “Shacho-san! Shacho-san!” kept flooding our surroundings.
“Janine.” Mama-san rushed towards the counter, looking over the wine cabinet. “Are the drinks prepared? Make sure to put the oldest one at the front.”
“Hai, Mama-san.”
I worked that day because I have to ask for a day off tomorrow Sunday. I have to make my preparations for that Hyatt occasion Masato tagged me on. While I couldn't decide what dress to pick as I flip these latest fashion magazines inside our pub's dormitory early in the morning, a quick idea came to mind.
I briefly texted Jackson asking that a “friend” is looking for a fashion advice on what dress is best for a “black-tie” occasion. I took pictures of the photos which I think suits my own preferences then sent them to Jackson.
He replied that, according to his opinion, the dress with a seamless stitching suits the occasion better. I thanked him and felt my day's work was done. My sense of accomplishment is satisfied. Jackson, baby. Hihi. I wore this dress for you.
In the afternoon, I need to be pretty and have to freshen up. So I walked into a salon to have a massage, to have my hair done and to book a professional make-up appointment. By Monday, I'm back at university to complete my thesis for the nearing graduation.
I'll follow Jackson once I know of where he will be applying for his job. I have to study hard. Kyaa! I'm so excited.
With that mindset, I showed up at Hyatt just as Masato had instructed. I've become giddy from the feeling that Jackson chose this dress.
Masato met me at the Hyatt entrance with an assessing glance. “Yaru ne. I knew you can get by,” he remarked.
I rushed, and an elated spread of my arms reached to hold him. This time, he didn't freeze. “Is it cute? My crush picked it up for me.” I giggled.
“Sōka. It's no surprise that it's no longer flashy.”
I waved my hand in dismissal. “Whatever,” I replied, until I made a grin. “So it's cute? Waah~ Kakoi ne~ my crush is so kind.”
I clutched my hand to his arm when we entered the venue afterwards. And oh my…
The hotel is everything my nightlife is not. The lights illuminated a clear yet soft LED warm beige filters, not a flashy spotlight which moves and blinks with different colors. The music was a blend of either a Vivaldi or a Chopin. I don't know. I only heard and read Vivaldi or Chopin from a Kawasaki piano advertisement on TV before. It's those songs with no lyrics.
But I'm sure it's not a music track from Teresa Teng or Celine Dion. Because it's also those songs with no vocals at all.
The tables are mostly tall. There are few round tables at the side of the venue which were filled with utensils and different glasses, from rounded glass to a flute drinking glass.
The voices were a mild chatter among the circle. One of the circled clique looked at our direction and others followed. Masato proceeded to them as I follow his lead. But I find this too formal. I made a mental whine. I wanna go home!
I moved closer to Masato's hearing. “Ne, Masato… this is beyond my usual category. I believe this demands a special commission. It's therefore pricier than my average pay.”
Masato came so close to my hearing the air of his breath brushed my ear, reverberating the wholeness of his cool voice. “If you exceeded my expectations, I'll double.”
My senses rose, so are my goosebumps. Because by then, bell chimes started ringing in my ears: money, money, money.
Yeah…
Janine, get this work well-done and let's get paid! Ganbatte!
He immediately raised his head, tipping a brief bow before the people standing nearby. While I'm busy doing my role as a side chick decoration clinging to his arm, I looked around, my eyes caught Masato's darling.
She was in a black dress with fuchsia as an accent to her entire look. Looking attentively at our direction. The Yumeko darling gave a brief smile when she saw me and bowed slightly. E…
Ārē—what to do?
That's the girl I have to keep up with. And she's well-poised and a natural! What to do?
Since Masato's darling has the entire aura of an angel, I smiled to the best of my very demure, very gracious and very pure self. I don't know if it works, but I followed suit with a quick bow before the guy whose arm I cling with stopped walking. I turned around to meet a circle of—
Damn it.
Bunch of snobs.
They looked at me before I was immediately dismissed. Masato made the introductions and they did the polite ceremony of indifferently acknowledging a tanin like me. They soon moved on to start minding their own business. Time later passed by when I found myself munching a fantastic sushi at a buffet table.
“Eli-san, dōmō,” someone greeted. I turned around with my chewing mouthful and my hand that was holding a chocolate shaped like a lily bloom.
I yelped and chewed fast before swallowing. The spared chocolate was returned on the table for a while. I'm going to eat that cocoa later.
I bowed fast. “Yumeko-san…” I mumbled. “Wait... am I allowed?”
Yumeko nodded with enthusiasm as she made a sound. “Dōzō. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.”
Ha?
“Yo-yoroshiku.” I bowed again, unsure if I made the right response.
“I’m glad Ma-kun brought you. Hibiki and I were constantly urging him to invite you here.”
Now who's the new character unlocked that a name Hibiki popped out of Yumeko-san’s lips?
Yumeko-san seems to sense it. “Eto… Ma-kun is my childhood friend. We grew up together overseas. While Hibiki is my fiancé.”
A—
Oh. OH….
The epiphany landed so good, I almost forgot my special commission.
What the heck?! Girl, you’re already out from the dating pool?! Masato, you stupid coward! I deserve a higher pay than this!
Say no to low-balling. Say no to minimum wage exploitation.
While I want to protest for labor rights because that's our current lesson in my university seminar, I have to school myself back to my current role. Right now, I'm Masato's nosy side chick.
“Yumeko-san, if you don't mind me asking, what occasion is this?”
“E?” Yumeko-san leaned slightly away, quite taken aback. “Ma-kun didn't tell you?”
I shook my head.
“It's our family’s corporate merger and his father's promotion.”
What first world problems I stumbled myself in this place? Damn, I should've declined that jerk's invitation all along.
“Ah…” my voice rounded out as if I have any idea what Yumeko-san just said. Which I don't, because this is beyond my category! “So it's a formal event after all…”
Yumeko-san nodded. “But don't be nervous. If you need to ask for directions, I think I know some.” She chuckled in that sweet soprano voice.
Okay, angel.
How can I ever keep up with Masato's ideal girl? Jackson too?
Then, the screws in my mind started working. Oh shit, I needed lessons. What a perfect opportunity!
“You know, that chocolate is a new product line my mother's business is planning to launch this spring. How is it?” Yumeko-san asked, peeking over the chocolate I spared earlier.
“Ah! Hai. Sou.” I nodded as I picked it up and chewed the spared chocolate. It has a mint in it.
Not long after that, I chatted like a good hostess that I am with Yumeko-san. I needed information. I needed tips and I needed to look like her. But then I remembered my main job: make her feel jealous.
How?! She seems to be happy with that fiancé of hers.
I was later reconciled with Masato's company as I cling back to his arm. We have to picture a look to signal that he's not a stupid coward to the rest of the world.
“I met Yumeko-san a while ago. She allowed me to call her by her first name immediately. Isn't that great, Masato? When I tried doing it with yours, you keep flinching like your ears are about to be infected.”
“I’m more reserved than Yumeko-chan since I'm paying you with my allowance.” He talked while scanning the crowd before us.
“Ah—” My mouth clicked as I averted my attention and swung my head. “As if that sums it up. You didn't tell me she already has a fiancé. How should I ever accomplish my job to make her feel jealous?”
“That's not what I put on your job description. I said, you have to act as my doting girlfriend.”
“And doting it is.” My mouth stretched a mischievous grin. I have an idea. “How about we play janken-pon and see who takes the best of three? If I win, double my pay, boy.”
“And if I win?”
“I'll just ask Yumeko-san to wrap me those chocolate cubes her mother is planning to launch this spring. I'll be taking home a ‘pasalubong’ for my mother.”
Masato ended up chuckling until it erupted to a short laugh. “Who could've ever thought about that? Yabai, Janine.” He sighed. “I assume you're planning to grab a takeaway from Yumeko-chan’s beta product?”
I made a sound of agreement.
He laughed again, letting out a light baritone voice. He made a tight smile and shook his head abruptly. Hmm. Refreshing sight. Now he's an ikemen somebody.
“Alright,” I pressed on. “Best of three. Janken-pon!”
I fist bumped Masato's free hand when he formed one, we ended up looking like kodomo around the corner playing rock, paper and scissors for this wage.
Masato was quick to draw scissors and mine is a rock.
“Ha! I won. One point.”
“You slowed down, I saw it. You're cheating, Pina.”
“Winners are takers. Losers are talkers,” I clapped back. “Again. Janken-pon!”
Masato paid attention and then won that round. We did it again, I won. I quickly let go of my hand from him to clap and made another repeat.
Masato won.
“I won't let you. How dare you. Again!”
And for the last draw, my paper was lucky against his rock. “Ha! I won. Pay me what you owe me. Okane~”
“Quiet, Pina. Don't let them hear you sing that vulgar word.”
“I'm counting you on this, Masato.” I clapped one last time and returned my hand to cling back on his arm for the picture perfect Masato-is-not-a-coward image.
When my victorious mood made my eyes roam around the room, I saw Yumeko-san again, still smiling.
Girl, you're supposed to be frowning!
Oh, well. I get to have my pay for my special commission anyway. It's now in million. Hurray! But I still want to wrap those chocolate in a box. Maybe I should just ask the hardworking butlers of this event. I'll tell them Yumeko-san permitted me to wrap one. Hihi.
That did not happen.
Because when I remembered my senpai who once asked me for a loan, I realized she will take interest in whatever pasalubong I'll bring back to the dorm. Further pestering me about how I'm doing well with my customer.
No chocolate cubes were wrapped for a takeaway later. I'm adamant to give my senpai a favor. No way. Hmph!
But… but… and but…
Masato did follow through our deal. A week later, I found my paycheck to be as we agreed. He wired them through my bank account.
Omedeto, Janine! I cheered myself. I'm doing well.
While I was at the bank, I might as well remit some of my earnings to my cousins. I took out my phone later outside and made a video-call to one of my active nieces online.
“Babaita, I just sent you an allowance. Make sure you put it to good use since I'm nearing my graduation.”
“Ātē, you coming this December? Can you bring home a matcha? I'm planning to put up a boba tea shop.”
My face made an unimpressed and chagrined expression. “You're not going to make me your delivery girl now, are you?”
“Duh! It's business.”
“Not me, I'm busy. Try ube flavor and ask Lolo to plant one of those,” I refused. Looking at my niece who's chewing something in front of her blurry screen. The line is too choppy and slow on her end.
“You just have to grab a matcha pack at—what’s that super market—Donki? And I'll charge back to my customers all the expenses. Muwahaha.”
“Exploitation,” I blurted, holding my phone when I worked to find a signal. “Consumer rights violation. Betty, you're choppy.”
“I get it.” She stood. “We will have our school's recognition program next week, so it's a good timing. Alright, adios, I'm busy too. I'm hanging up.”
“Okay. Just make sure you use those I send you properly.”
“Okie dokie. Salamat-mamats-mamuch-much, ātē ganda. Muwah. Bye.”
"Bolera," I called out.
Bettina giggled before giving out a flying air kiss until she hung up the call. I later came back to our university to complete my remaining requirements.
“Osoi na, Janine.”
I turned around and saw a big ray of sunshine. “Jackson. Nande? Did I already miss something?”
Jackson chuckled before shaking his head to make a peace sign. “Betsuni.”
And then I'm a happy specie to have the moment to spend time with him.
When I first had my touch down here in Tokyo, I was thirteen years old that time. I have no idea what to expect, only that when my mother started working here, I used to go to our neighbor to watch whatever anime they were watching, because mom says she'll take me here when I finish the elementary school.
Back then, we didn't have a TV in our house nor electricity. We use a kerosene lamp light at night before I go to sleep early since it's what's best for kids according to my grandmother. Compared to my neighbors, our house was a mixture of a hollow block cemented half-bottom and a nipa wall half-top. My allowance has always been a steamed corn or whatever fruit my grandfather planted from his garden. Maybe a sweet potato or an unripe Indian mango as we call it. Those were my snacks during my elementary school days.
When my mother took me later and I entered a public highschool here in Japan, I had a culture shock. I don't know the language yet and I became a quiet mime, not knowing how to socialize and make friends.
That's why my usual hangout is the place my mother is working at, and that is the Philippine pub here in Shinjuku. I've gotten to know more about the long-time hostesses than my usual high school classmates.
At night, I've gotten curious so I peeked around when Mama-san is not looking, since Mama-san would scold me. Saying it's inappropriate for me yet. There, I heard loud laughters and saw the rowdiness of drunk men and my mom.
I've never felt more distant to my highschool classmates after realizing what environment I live in, it pushed me away since I find the lives of my classmates unrelated to me. It was only late in my highschool that I managed to functionally socialize and made brief friends along the way.
When I turned the legal age, I entered the profession. I'm the kōhāi in all of them. The next in line who's a newbie into the scene is ātē Mina. Who almost got caught into trouble with a customer and a verbal tirade against the top hostess senpai in this pub.
“Janine, can you talk to that senpai of yours? Her snotty face couldn't be even fixed with any muti-million plastic surgery she's better off to pay what she owe me.”
I almost choked my lunch that time, ātē Mina's mouth is a barbed wire. She either goes quiet as a restraint or goes all-out with her unfiltered bluntness.
“'I’ll pay later, I'll pay later.' You keep saying this broken line but you end up whoring your money—”
“How's that your business? Are you that jealous even your own looks couldn't elevate how boring of a hostess you are?” Snapped our top ranking hostess.
“At least I don't act like a whore in front of a man's groin and a bitch in front of a woman whom I owe a money with—”
“Enough! Mina!” Mama-san thundered, rushing into the lobby. “You came here to grind not to fight. If you have tact at all, shut your mouth. And you, Lourdes, stop fleecing your kōhāi. You fools…” Mama-san sighed. “Get your act together! This pub won't last this long if that's the attitude you both want to foster.”
Our top ranking hostess begrudgingly returned the money that she borrowed from ātē Mina soon after, but not with enough of a resentful mumbling. She also never bothered ātē Mina again. These two never talked ever since.
While the customer ātē Mina whom she almost caught into trouble with is an undercover inspector. At first, I was surprised why a fair-looking young man with such a handsome face is lounging at this pub. Since most of our customers are old men or average men who loves to go broke and drunk.
The young inspector was observing her and then later asked specifically for ātē Mina.
But she only rolled her eyes at him out of irritation. “Creep.”
“E? Here's a kirei hostess,” says the young inspector of about ātē Mina’s age. “Why are you mad now?”
“Strip off your cap and your face and you're still a disgusting creep.”
“Ne, I know I cheated on you back from our university years. But come on, you don't have to stop going to university just so not to see me ever again.”
“Uwa, maji de?” Ātē Mina made a sarcastic gesture as if she's shocked. “You actually think my life choices revolves around you? This is where my oka-san first worked. I'm taking after her, and I love it here. Who are you again?”
I saw a quick flash of hurt in the young inspector’s eyes before he masked it away with a slow smile. “Since you're here, Mina—”
“How dare you call me that. Get out and stop disrupting my work.”
He tilted his head before crossing his legs as he drank. “I was tasked to report this pub. But since it is actually compliant, while being run well by the management and since you're here, I think I might report a positive finding.”
“Don't care. Don't know.” Then in a single movement, as if without a regret, ātē Mina took the drinking glass and threw the liquor straight to his face. “Scum,” she spat this word cold.
Mama-san scolded her thoroughly that time. It took about 8 hours of a really, really angry sermon.
But nothing happened at the pub. It wasn't raided nor asked to be shut down. And what's weird is that the young inspector keeps coming back and takes up ātē Mina at his table.
I later learned he's ātē Mina's ex-boyfriend. Whom she describes as someone, “who keeps swinging his dick to whatever hole that opens for him.”
My mouth winced when I first heard that. She truly has an acidic tongue.
That's my current time as a rookie of this scene. I'm pretty sure Mama-san has seen way more drama than I could ever get.
Right now, we recently closed the pub. And one hostess who's a middle-age woman whom I usually call Tita Cynthia showed me her phone. We were both taking a midnight snack at the pub’s pantry that time.
“Look at my son during their school's graduation in kindergarten,” came her enthusiastic gush. “They were asked to dance. Look at him jiggle his belly—A!” Tita Cynthia laughed to a volume only a loud oba-san can create.
What I saw in the video is a chubby boy who's dancing to a local upbeat song, and he's rolling his cute bouncing belly. His hands are moving around like a cheerful mess. I was infected by Tita Cynthia's candor. Her staccato cackle pushed to burst mine.
“Kawaii~ Tita, how old is he?”
“Oh, he's five now. He had his birthday this winter.”
My mouth made a rounded ‘oh’ at that. “His birthday is on December?”
Tita Cynthia nodded.
“That's nice, Tita. So by December break, he'll have tons of pasalubong from Japan every time you return for short vacations.” I chuckled. “But you're here, abroad. Will it be okay? He's too young.”
“Well…” Tita Cynthia's almost teary-eyed laughing expression and stretched grin softened. She faintly sighed then puts her phone down on the table. “You got to do what you got to do. I'm sending him to elementary school next month. He's going to need his school supplies and pocket allowance now.”
I made a slow nod before drawing my words out. “Ah… quite right. Why not buy them here? Put them in a balikbayan box? He's going to love it.”
“Oh, that's a great idea!” Tita Cynthia pointed her finger at me in confirmation. “I'll see if I can get those surplus sales they have at Sumida-ku.”
I expressed in agreement as we continued to eat our snack. Tita Cynthia kept rumbling that contained laughter while watching those videos they posted on Facebook.
When I got back to our dorm, I found my university papers scattered all over my table, which ātē Mina noted as the mess I left. Afraid of receiving a remark from her, I thoroughly cleaned my bed and my table before going to sleep. When I laid out my drawer, I saw the CD collection of Taiwan's Hana Yori Dango TV adaption titled “Meteor Garden.”
I made a brief smile before recalling that this is the reason why Jackson and I became a sort of buddies in university.
Ah… memories.
I neatly arranged my stuff before filling up my trash in a black plastic bag. Guess I'm in charge of taking out the dorm’s garbage tomorrow.
When I finally caught a rest, I browsed through my SNS again. And for the second time, I found another interesting question on Yahoo Chiebekuro.
Somebody posted a question:
“I want a Filipina girlfriend, something exotic. Where is the best place to find these exotic features? I'm thinking of going to a Philippine pub.”
Giggling, before moving on to watch YouTube videos, I typed my own answer:
“Why your girlfriend has to be Filipina, I don't know. In modern Nihon, you can call your Shiba-inu your girlfriend and no one will question that. I suggest that it's better to have a Shiba-inu as a companion and then name her the exotic Jessica Maria. Much better than you trying your shot to an exoticized and fetishized girlfriend based on her ethnicity.”
