Chapter 4
2026/05/31: Significantly revised. Rushed and may not be the best of writing.
桜井真人/ Masato Sakurai
Oto-san was sitting on his desk one time, looking over his watch. He grunted before clearing his throat, looking up when he saw me. Fixing his coat, he stood and spoke, “We're going out for dinner.”
Little did I know, I was made to pour drinks at a ryōtei here in Ginza among the executives. Oto-san, with his coat off, sat among them to simply listen and nod.
“Shacho, Sakurai Hotels is in a good position this year. The surge of in-bound tourism makes your identity for hospitality stand on its own. But looking at the recent inflation last year…” One shukko took a sharp breath through his mouth.
The room’s attention was hooked until a representative from honsha spoke. “Shacho, the recent forecasts have been favorable to us lately. Studies show that hotels have diversified their supply chain through outsourcing. Actually…” He made a weak movement in his hand before putting it down. “The government too grants the hospitality sector robust support through subsidies. This is an opportunity I think which will propel us further to expand to a broader set of guests.”
I straightened my posture when I heard that, growing stiff. They might as well say downgrade and it would've been the same effect anyway. As I looked at oto-san, probing how he received such a suggestion, he only gave a brief nod.
“Naruhodo,” he said.
They continued to speak and my gaze diverted quickly away from him to check these seniors’ cups, just so I could fill them up again. Oto-san remained expressionless that time. We dined well and the executives talked to themselves thoroughly.
“Nani o omoimashita ka?” Oto-san asked as we walked out of the restaurant.
“Wakaranai,” I answered.
Oto-san scoffed. “Young man… das Kind mit dem Bade ausschütten. I'll let you get away once, but don't ever be that stupid,” he said, walking on to be met by our waiting ride.
Later that week, it was business as usual. Nothing significant came into fruition or another discussion. Only that oto-san's secretary called in one of oto-san's middle managers. When I was called into his office again, the middle manager was sitting in his office. Laid back on the sofa with his agitated feet nudging the floor, he kept moving around his hand to his mouth.
“Shacho, if you would reconsider, once we secure the contract in Hyogo, that will be our premium supplier. Outsourcing is feasible, sou, sou.” He nodded, but his feet remained restless. “But it's a trade-off. Would we expand for a massive catering after years of curated service?”
Oto-san also relaxed on his desk. “Sou da na,” he sighed. He brushed me a look when I was standing beside him and I jolted. I ended up pouring them a whiskey.
The middle manager took a gulp with his cup before speaking again. “Shacho, it is a matter of priority. If by short-term, we indulge the shukkos' suggestion and standardize, it's profitable. But in the long-term, we end up like those commercial chains. That's not what oyaji's vision is.”
Oto-san only grumbled a sound. And once again, time moved. However, this time, it’s my own audience being called into his office. My department belonged to marketing. Assigned to a task which involved a lot of public relations activity. Such as appearing on interviews, or if not, attending all those necessary symposiums or business travels just to please the investors. Once, I was sent to Singapore, only to be interviewed by a lifestyle magazine, Tatler Asia, and later by a corporate-oriented one, Bloomberg.
“Masato-san, Shacho, is looking for you,” one of my current head managers said. When I turned around, I saw oto-san alone, with a grave look looming in his face.
“Discern how they sway and persuade the shareholders’ influence every single time, Masato,” he suddenly uttered as we walked through the hallway. “One interest over another and if you're not vigilant, you'll end up acquired like how your ojii-chan made it. Thinking it's goodwill but had never foresaw how his little company dwindled. Absorbed later as an accessory by someone younger than him.”
He opened his office and I followed suit. Inside this office's minimalist interior brims an off-white color. Once he reached his executive desk, what was in front of him was a large contemporary tamo ash furniture, whose ergonomic design included a glass table. He sat down as he began to skim the stacked papers left on his table prior to the meeting. He began to read, while I sat on the swivel chair across him.
What oto-san meant earlier is the history of how he resents ojii-chan when he was made to be a President rather than an owner of this hotel company with full control.
“Look at this year's IRR, it says it dipped by 0.2%.” Oto-san said, bored, flipping the pages of the financial report idly. “And now those shukkos wanted to standardize everything as if a bread baked in Kyushu is palatable to a diplomat guest of our hotel. Manuke.” He flipped back the company's financial report to a quick dismissal. “You’ve taken your internship now, am I correct?”
“Hai, oto-san.”
“See those reports and summarize them to me. Tell me your decision,” he instructed, before he turned his full attention to the personal computer.
I stood up and took the papers as I walked near the window. In the report, I saw the Nakamura logo in pair with our hotel's logo.
Nakamura-kaichō is the man who acquired the failing company that would have gone bankrupt after ojii-chan’s passing. The company has been mismanaged by those he trusted, until oto-san was prepared enough to step in and take charge.
Too late, however. It was in Nakamura-kaichō’s hands then.
Right now, Nakamura-kaichō’s working capital gave it a generous 10%. But our IRR indicated 9.8%. A 0.2% dip indeed caused the shukkos to run around in flurry and propose to restructure the corporation.
“Nakamura merged with the Yoshino Properties, sou da ne?” Oto-san spoke behind me that I had to turn around. His head hangs low as he signs the papers he's flipping. “I didn't know your childhood friend was already engaged with the Yoshino heir. I remember Nakamura's daughter, an adorable child when I last saw her with you. Guess Nakamura had her married off.”
I made a sound of acknowledgement before returning my attention to my task.
Nakamura-kaichō is also Yumeko-chan's oto-san. When oto-san worked under their headquarters before, Yumeko-chan and I have been around in the same environment since. Coincidentally, we're of the same age.
Too young to have understood we were living in a different place.
”Berlin, 2009 Frohe Weihnachten!”
That was the postcard I've held when I've had my earliest vivid memory.
Oka-san held me by the hand as we walked through the gloomy German winter that day. We had a fifteen minute walk here in Steglitz back from our house when the temperature was below negative zero. Even the blizzard of snow itself came at my reddened nose. Every sidewalk was a tiny hill of white. Then, until the wind passes by, the freezing air stings my cheeks. My teeth can't help but to chatter.
We kept walking fast where oka-san tugs at me to keep going. I looked at the written ”Berlin, 2009 Frohe Weihnachten!” greetings again from my other hand. It was the postcard oka-san gave before we prepared to go out in the middle of this winter.
We finally reached the gates of a neoclassical ivory manor when a household security staff guided us before reaching the patio of this residence. Oka-san turned to me and gave me her affable smile before knocking.
The door opened when a household staff greeted us with, “Guten Morgen, Frau Sakurai. Frohe Weihnachten, Masato.” Which we both greeted likewise.
Once we entered the drawing room, I saw Yumeko-chan there, swinging her feet with her Haferlschuhe shoes on. Her Dirndl dress puffing out carelessly on her piano seat as she starts playing a simple piece titled, “Lasst uns froh und munter sein.”
Or what the English called, “Jolly Old St. Nicholas.”
“Sumire, genki desu ka?” Yumeko-chan’s oka-san greeted. “How was the trip? Yume-chan, Ma-kun is here.”
“Genki desu, Chisa. Demo, the blizzard of snow gives these shoes and Ma-kun’s shoes a trial walk,” oka-san greeted back before chuckling.
A little chat later, they began arranging themselves at a tea table. Probably doing those things only an oka-san can understand. Just like talking to each other for too long.
I walked to Yumeko-chan's piano set where her feet still swung by and her carefree smashes on the piano tiles made sounds in abrupt stops rather than in glissando notes.
She turned around and smiled at me. “Ohaiyo, Ma-kun. Frohe Weihnachten! I can't wait to leave my shoes so that St. Nikolaus will give me a lot of treats. Frau Lehmann says this is a good song for this season.”
Yumeko-chan didn't know yet that it's their staff who gave her gifts because they liked her very much.
“I prefer trick or treat on Halloween,” I mouthed, removing my winter coat as I shook the snow out of it.
Yumeko-chan stopped playing, she turned sideways before she rounded her eyes. “E?” Then she pouted. “Scary.”
But then she remembered something else she abandoned playing the piano to jump and stand up fully. “Ne, look what I've got.”
She made a little run on the shelves near the drawing room and pulled out a book. When she returned to my spot, she opened the book to show me some pressed leaves and flowers.
“I got this when oto-san was hunting last autumn,” she said, giggling. “Look, here's a wildflower edelweiss.” Pointing the white flower that hasn't yet withered. “And yule leaves I got before we cut them for this Christmas tree right here.”
Yumeko-chan pointed to the amber glow of the Christmas tree.
We were eight years old when oto-san underwent his training at that time. He's been an intern for the Nakamura branch here. Until he'd been promoted as a Regional Head Director. He's been busy grinding back the shares of ojii-chan's company, so he worked without missing the crucial beat.
Whenever we have our dinner, oto-san usually asks about my day.
“Have your studies been difficult so far?” He said this to me when I was in elementary school.
“I'm doing well, oto-san. It's very fun actually,” I replied, reaching out my chopsticks to our tall table that's about my chest for the side dish that I want to eat. “We have parlor games in our class while we learn. It's really fun.” I grinned.
Oto-san, meanwhile, held his bowl in relaxed ease, slowly chewing his meal when he looked at me in contemplation.
“Suppose we add financial markets as part of your classes, Masato. Can you do that?”
“E?” I turned to him, not reaching my desired side dish, I relaxed back to my seat. “What class will that be, oto-san?”
“Masato,” oto-san's voice encouraged. He put down his bowl and lowered his head to meet me on the eye-level. “You will be the heir of the Sakurai Hotels, wakatta ne? You are your ojii-chan's grandson. This class will help you to become your ojii-chan.”
When I heard that, I nodded in enthusiasm. “Hai. I want to be like ojii-chan.”
Oto-san, for something memorable to me, crinkled the side of his eyes as he gave me a reserved smile. “There's my boy,” he consoled.
Then I returned to reach the side dish again, until oto-san helped me with it.
Germany prohibits working in excess, that's why I get to see him frequently. If not with, “Masato this, Masato that. Masato remember, Masato don't miss this part,” to things I barely comprehend.
Oka-san, however, is a breath of fresh air. She lets me watch her do her own hobby. Which is to tend a small garden like her recent carnation around the front yard.
“Oka-san,” I chirped, making small jumps around the rock cobblestones that they put around the pathway.
“Masato,” oka-san mimicked. “Doushita?”
“I will capture your heart with this,” I proclaimed and spread my arms wide.
“E?” Oka-san stopped. She dropped her garden shovel as she turned to me. “Nani kore?”
Then I recited something that I've read in her library.
「沖つ風吹けばまたゝく蝋の灯に志づく散るなり江の島の洞」
Oka-san’s face lifted and beamed. “Sugoi ne, Masato.” She chuckled and clapped her hand for a moment.
Then I started to ask her something, “will I have those Christmas postcards this year too just like before?”
Oka-san made a sound and nodded. “We'll visit Yume-chan again this year.”
I nodded back and ran.
Oka-san always tags me along every time she takes a quick visit to Yumeko-chan's house.
When our elementary schooling came, both Yumeko-chan and I were enrolled in an international Japanese school in Berlin. Then we both received a lot of one-on-one tutoring after-class.
One time, when Yumeko-chan visited our house, here at the outskirts of Steglitz where deep woods and birds chirped loudly around our backyard, Yumeko-chan, with her tiny hands, carried and presented to me a bonsai.
“Ma-kun! I made this tree grow!” She declared with full pride.
“I doubt it. Did you water them yourselves?” I shot back.
“Hai!” Raised her high-pitched voice. Behind her is the artificial waterfalls that are too contemporary of a glass house this residential we have. And Yumeko-chan wore a balloon white dress that makes a sharp contrast to her black hair. A deep green bonsai in front of her kept on hold. “I paid attention to it. I told Gina-san not to water it. I'll do it myself.”
“You don't water it, baka. You spray it. E? There's a waterfall behind you, do you think you need to water the bonsai that way?”
Yumeko-chan made a quick look behind her, still stretching her bonsai to me. “Yabai, Ma-kun. Baka.”
It made me chuckle. “Sou desu ka?”
But when she turned around, her face lit up, cheerful. Then she giggled. “What do you think of my bonsai?”
I rounded that bonsai, pretending to think seriously. “Hmm…” I began, scratching my chin. “Kawaii ne. And it's the color green.”
“Ma-kun…” Yumeko-chan whined.
I laughed, enjoying myself teasing a reaction out of her.
“That's not it! Mattaku. Is my bonsai well-tended?”
“It's a baby bonsai,” I replied, because it's inches tall for now.
Yumeko-chan nodded and made a sound of agreement.
I continued, “Too early to see if you didn't drown it with too much water—”
“E—Ma-kun, chigau na! Yaba!”
I laughed again.
“I'll make it big,” Yumeko-chan said.
“Yumeko-chan,” I tweeted. “A bonsai is a bonsai for a reason. It doesn't grow big.”
“Demo…” Yumeko-chan insisted, lowering her hands to hold the bonsai like a cradled baby. “I'll make the bonsai grow big to the best of its capability.”
“Heh…” I drew out. “Wakatta. Show them to me later when you've done it.”
Yumeko-chan's forehead knitted with determination before her sound of approval. “You'll see.”
“You'll meet with the managers later, Masato. Take them out for a drink and bring the news,” oto-san spoke behind me, cutting me off from my reverie.
When I flipped the pages back and turned to him, I nodded. After that, a meeting was arranged with a senpai along with the new employees, before I managed to gather all the middle managers at an izakaya when the party's over.
“I like an expansion, it makes sense. But if it's a commercial chain, it loses distinction,” my senpai said. Going tipsy, he emptied his beer again.
“You see, it's a constraint. These policies sent down at Honsha just couldn't align with oyaji’s identity anymore,” one manager said, referring to ojii-chan and his days of opulence.
“Ma,” another manager interjected. He leaned back to let out a breath before speaking further, “the changes should come. But let's do so at our own pace, whether it's feasible for our hotel's interest too. I really couldn't understand how this massive operation moved everything to Kyushu.”
“For cost-efficiency, Ishii-bucho,” I replied. “Any non-core asset for Nakamura-kaichō would be streamlined. IRR fell short by zero point two percent for our operations.”
That information descended hollow to them, slighted by the implication. As if the Sakurai Hotels are a trade-off worthy enough for standardization. I understand their sentiments. The head manager already said it. Are we worth a downgrade just because we are a subsidiary?
Ishii-bucho nodded. “I'll talk to the head manager.”
Afterwards, it only took two days when the head manager came into the office again. And just like before, I was standing beside oto-san but I no longer poured them their whiskey in leisure.
“Shacho.” The head manager offered his saikeirei. When he straightened back, his face was resolute. “Please reconsider our hotel’s core identity. Please understand that once we agree to the policy proposed in honsha, we will stray from oyaji’s vision.”
Oto-san and the head manager talked again. And as he left, I was left with oto-san muttering something. “I cannot reconcile, no matter how many times I contemplate, how your ojii-chan dug his own company and threw it into a ditch. Now, witness this. Kagyū kakujō no tatakai.” He rubbed his face with one palm and began to move his chair to continue working. “One of our investors is currently in Hong Kong. Try to meet him there. I'll deal with this mess.”
And just like before, I nodded and moved. It wasn't a day long when I packed my things and caught a flight to Hong Kong. During my four hour flight, I sat and breathed. Just like that, watching the horizon and nothing comes to mind except the interrupted memories I have with Yumeko-chan.
It was late in our elementary school when one-on-one tutoring involved a lot of Japanese cultural classes. My tutor made me memorize and recite a lot of waka. And it is at this time where Yumeko-chan gets the triumph to tease me in return.
During our calligraphy lessons, Yumeko-chan advanced more quickly than I did when it came to the intermediate level of kanji strokes.
“Ma-kun, let me see your calligraphy,” she said, peering over my back when I was busy doing my thing.
When Yumeko-chan saw my output, she giggled with gusto.
“Ma-kun—” Her laughter overtook her words. “That looks like ramen. A black ramen.”
It was true, though. I can't help the level of my calligraphy. It's an incomprehensible and a scribble mess.
Yumeko-chan kept laughing, all I could hear at that moment was her high-pitched voice about to create a melody. I lifted out a reluctant smile.
“Gomen, Yumeko-chan. I'm not perfect.”
She toned down, but not with her grin and her mood. “Ma-kun, nara dekiru! For now, it's thick black noodles.” She giggled and laughed again.
Ah… this is embarrassing.
But I turned around to see a loud, carefree Yumeko-chan. She'd grown taller, her chubby cheeks are starting to lose their baby fats.
“Ne, Ma-kun…” Yumeko-chan tapped her lap feebly before fixing her seat. “It's like this,” she said, “do you want me to guide you?”
I nodded with a sound.
Yumeko-chan drew herself closer, when her hand wrapped to my writing hand, she guided my brush strokes. “You see, as much as this has a flow, it also has a rhythm.” Yumeko-chan then made a deft curve until I saw a legible cursive of the kanji character we're studying with.
I gasped. “Sugoi,” I said, turning around to look at Yumeko-chan whose attention was on the paper canvas.
She chuckled when she looked at me in return with her cheeriness. “Omedeto, Ma-kun!”
Something flickered in me that day. Perhaps, I saw something else in Yumeko-chan. Because over time, when I've tried to visit Yumeko-chan's house, it's no longer the piano or the pressed flowers she's showing.
During the summer, after a kendo and then a football leisure practice, I met her at their patio. She was sitting on a rocking chair while she's in her summer dress and ribboned hat. I stopped at the top of the stairs, heaving my breath, playing around with a football in hand. “Guten Tag, Yumeko-chan. What's your hobby this time?”
Yumeko-chan smiled briefly. “Guten Tag, Ma-kun. It's knitting.” She returned her attention to the movements of the needles and yarn in front of her. Her chair sways slowly when her hair brushes along with the chair's movement.
Out of curiosity, I approached her, and saw a basket filled with unfinished stuff that she made. “Who's this?” I asked, reaching for a brown knitted looking bear about the size of my palm.
“Rilakkuma.”
I turned this Rilakkuma bear and saw that it only had one-buttoned eye. I controlled my bursted snort.
“It looks like Monokuma.”
“Ma-kun. Nande? You always make fun of my work.” Yumeko-chan glared.
Kawaii.
“Ne, Yumeko-chan. This looks like a sibling of Monokuma. I think I will like this one. And I like Monokuma too. Can you make me a black and white version of this? I'll take them both,” I requested, swaying this knitted bear.
Yumeko-chan’s scrunched eyebrows didn't relax. “You always love scary things,” she grumbled. But then she changed her expression back to her usual mood. “Wakatta. I'll make a black and white.” She swung her head and harrumphed.
I chuckled. “Sōka. Arigatou, Yumeko-chan.”
Yumeko-chan grinned as she went back to her knitting.
After that hobby, our cultural class now also turned to tea ceremony then to ikebana. I can't help but to just watch Yumeko-chan beside me as she puts too much attention to every detail when she arranges her own vase. Her hair reached her back this time.
When Japan-Tag came, we wore our kimonos. She put up a tent to make an ikebana stall at the Rhine river promenade.
Her arms continuously move as she keeps on re-arranging the flowers of the vases every time a curious passerby comes to check her stall, and is hooked enough to tell Yumeko-chan about their own preferences before purchasing her flowers.
Me, meanwhile, came only as Yumeko-chan's assistant and a technician to check the sturdiness of our tent’s poles.
The pilot’s announcement brought my notice back to the present. I blinked. Seconds later, it gave me the refreshment I needed when I moved on my seat for the plane’s landing. The runway came and so did the aisle when we boarded off.
Hong Kong has always been as it is now: busy. I found myself walking through the throng of the people who could also be in the same movement like me. People who might've taken a short trip, or perhaps were sent here to work for a branch. Lots of foreigners huddled along this narrow alleyway built by tall buildings that wished to squeeze itself together to fit. In one of these buildings, I reached the address oto-san gave me.
This coastal city teemed with noise and heat as though it were already summer.
Just like that time of Berlin summer break when we transitioned to Realschule soon after. Yumeko-chan moved to a boarding school in Zürich while I stayed in Berlin.
This is the period in my life where I had my first experience of anything related to girls. Yes, anything. I had a girlfriend and then I had an ex-girlfriend kind of experience.
By autumn, I visited Yumeko-chan in Zürich. When I last saw her, she's all around the place collecting or tending things in their dormitory.
“Please excuse my dorm mates’ stuff scattered all over the place, Masato,” Yumeko-chan mumbled as she tried to reach something at the book shelves. Their dormitory’s table has been filled with open books, three sheets of music pieces and an abandoned violin.
When my eyes wandered inside of this girls' room with their vanity table, there lay those scattered cosmetics including some perfume bottles. Their jewelleries hang around on the vanity chair. One big closet was open to see the dresses loosely hanging in their hangers. I saw a bonsai near the window.
“Maji? You bought this bonsai?” I muttered, approaching the bonsai that had grown maybe some inches as far as I can remember. It was untrimmed, its leaves were still bushy.
Yumeko-chan made a sound before approaching me near the window.
“Your bonsai needs a haircut. Or leaves cut.” I chuckled.
Yumeko-chan meanwhile slapped my back lightly. “Yamete, Ma-kun. Mendokusai. It's still my grown bonsai. Proof of my gardening skills.” Yumeko-chan triumphed.
I made a brief laugh at that. Ah… Yumeko-chan, you're quite adorable sometimes.
“The bonsai likes you, I guess. It's well-tended as far as I can see.” I sighed quickly before nodding. “Well-done, Yumeko-chan. You've taken care of it until it grows with many leaves.”
“E?” Yumeko-chan’s attention was caught. She took something out of the drawer and it turned out to be a water spray bottle. She began spraying her bonsai. “That's the first time I've heard you say that. Arigatou ne, Ma-kun.” She beamed.
As much as I want to relish Yumeko-chan's sight right now, something else crossed my mind entirely. “A bonsai grows when it's given with enough care and attention. It's like a child. Ne, Yumeko-chan, oto-san said he'll pass me down his position one day. Do you think it's something similar to taking care of a bonsai?”
Yumeko-chan pouted when she turned her attention to me, stopping her spray to the bonsai. “Do you really want to, Ma-kun?” She inquired.
I couldn't express myself enough that the only response I gave was a nod. “I'm not certain if there are expectations set on me that I'll have to live through or pressure or free-will,” I mumbled.
Yumeko-chan didn't speak. Instead, she set down her water spray bottle. Walking briefly near me, I heard her soft voice. “Ma-kun…”
When I looked up, I saw her with her hands rounded in a cheering gesture. “Ganbatte ne.” Yumeko-chan smiled with her eyes. “You can do it if you truly want it.”
My heart fluttered a bit of a relief when I heard that. In return, I nodded.
A few minutes later, loud murmurs came closer to the room. There, a group of Western girls and an Arabian girl appeared as they walked in.
“Yumeko, ça va?” said by one of the girls. When she turned her attention to me, she raised her brows.
Yumeko-chan rushed to them as she began to talk in French. “Farah, Sofia, Natasha et Amélie, je te présente Masato, c'est mon ami d'enfance.” Yumeko-chan gestured her hand to me.
I greeted them with a slight head bow. “Guten Tag.”
“Est-ce que tu parles allemand ?” the girl with pale blonde hair named Amélie asked.
Yumeko-chan said that her friend is asking if I speak in German. I nodded.
“Oh, so you're from the North.” Amélie said when she switched to German.
“Indeed," I only replied.
Soon after, they began chatting in animation, gushing in quick French. I couldn't catch their conversation. Then they started giggling.
“You should come, Masato,” Amélie turned to me. “Let's have a beach holiday in Tahiti. Let's surf.”
Yumeko-chan turned to me with her bright eyes. And something in me had lost a breath for a moment.
She's changed.
“To Nakamura-kaichō we consult our management. To Nakamura-kaichō we comply with the policy. It is I, who will decide what's best for this hotel!” Oto-san snapped inside the office when I reported what transpired in Hong Kong. He braced his hips pacing through the room. He turned his head to me, with a sharp and fast voice he spoke, “Nakamura still thinks we're far beneath him.” Oto-san scoffed.
I remained seated on the sofa, waiting to receive whatever there is to receive from him.
“For the two decades this company became a subsidiary, I've never detracted and have always stood to align myself on his side. But prudish that he is, he'd have her daughter be married off to his associates instead of his daughter's childhood friend who grew up with her. For two decades, Masato—” Oto-san raised two fingers to emphasize his point, reaching to his desk to read something. He made a slow inhale before he murmured. “Two decades and this is how I'm repaid. A servant.” He slammed the table before rubbing his face again then he breathed out. Once he calmed down and once he regained his composure, he paced near the window until he stood to watch outside the city's skyline. “Let me tell you that not everything is accepted at face value.”
“We should go there,” Yumeko-chan's Arabian friend, Farah, also spoke in German with her accent.
“Ouais?” a girl with dark brown curly hair named Sofia blurted.
“Yalla!” Yumeko-chan suddenly cheered.
Farah seemed to pick it up when she giggled as they high-five. “Yalla!”
“I think I'll have to decline. It look like a girls' get-together,” I said.
Yumeko-chan abruptly turned to me. “Are you sure, Ma-kun? It's a loss. All of my friends are bringing their boyfriends. Ma—I don't have a boyfriend. Maybe I could tag you along for a while.”
For a moment, I faltered that I almost jumped to change my mind and agree. But Tahiti is a far place. At that time, I was already visiting oto-san's office. They will soon have their boardroom meeting. It's my first time to watch. I made a decision to attend oto-san's meeting later.
That was the first moment where I realized the chance I missed. Because a month later, our family will now be returning to Nihon.
When I returned by train back to Berlin, the view on my window really did look like Arupusu no Shōjo Haiji. The Swiss hills have a carpet of rolling plains towered by the steep Alps. It glistens as the mountain watches over the trains that's currently running, perhaps, watches Yumeko-chan’s boarding school or the meadows which swing the dancing dandelions.
I took my last visit in winter. When I met Yumeko-chan this time, I waited at Lake Zürich, casually watching across my horizon a mountain covered by buildings or houses that looked like lego-pieces. Walking back and forth through the farthest wooden dock while I let these small yachts be my companions.
Snow filled the atmosphere again this time, but the sky gave a bright daytime for a while. Yumeko-chan greeted me in her equestrian clothes. She must've gone horseback riding for some time. In her winter coat, she walked through the dock up to my spot. Her white breeches almost blended in the color of the snow, only that her tall boots made it sure it's moving by far sight. Fitted by her breeches, Yumeko-chan’s silhouette from her winter coat, her hips down to her slender legs, she walked with grace nearer and nearer to my view.
“Yo, Ma-kun.” She smiled when she finally arrived near me.
Ārē…
Kirei.
It seems that months have passed since I last saw her.
Her hair was pushed by a hair band. Yumeko-chan’s eyes glimmered a deep-wooden amber glow now that I noticed.
“Shall we?” I offered my arm.
Yumeko-chan chuckled when she took it. We started walking afterwards.
“So, where are we going?” I asked.
“They have a candle lighting for the Christmas tree at the Enge Church this time. Let's try to check that one out, ne?”
“Then so it shall,” I complied, and we walked on. “How's your Tahiti beach holiday?”
Yumeko-chan's face brightened. “It’s quite fun. I didn't get to learn how to surf, however. Those girls pranked me. That's a monster wave. Yabai!” Yumeko-chan shrieked. “Can you believe it? They were trying to surf into that type of giant—humongous wave!”
I chuckled. “E? How so?”
“Warui, Ma-kun.” Then Yumeko-chan gave a theatrical shiver. “I can't believe them.”
“When have you returned?”
Yumeko-chan tilted his head. “By fall semester.”
“E?!” I turned to her. “You stayed there for a month? What did your parents say?”
“Well, they allowed someone to accompany me. His name is Hibiki and I think he's nice.”
I raised both my eyebrows. “Who's Hibiki?”
“Hmm…” Yumeko-chan pondered. “Oto-san's friend has a son.”
I nodded. “Ah… sou da na.”
We reached through the cobbled pathway, gone are the light creaks of the wooden dock as our feet trod the solid road. The weather is mild for us today. It's chilly for a while but the air is crisp whenever the wind blows.
“University’s about to arrive, it seems,” I began. "I'm returning back to Nihon next year, Yumeko-chan.”
“I'll return too,” she replied.
“When?”
Yumeko-chan hummed in thought. “Probably later than next year.”
“Ah…” I nodded. “So you'll arrive later than me.”
Yumeko-chan chuckled. “Hai. I'm excited about what Nihon is like.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “Demo, we're adults now. Remember that part where I said something about oto-san?”
Yumeko-chan’s wandering gaze around the Zürich plaza was distracted as she turned to face me. “Hmm?”
“I'm a bit scared even though oto-san calls me a young man.” I scoffed. “I find it a big shoe to fill, Yumeko-chan. After all, it's a company under your oto-san's holdings.”
Yumeko-chan didn't speak. Instead, she looked at me, curling her mouth before she contemplated. “I don't know about oto-san’s plans. I've always thought he really likes all the Sakurai. Demo, whatever it is, I'm certain we all have a place somewhere.”
That gave me an idea. I grinned, teasing her. “What if I separate our company from yours?”
“E?” Yumeko-chan mindlessly raised one eyebrow. “Hounto?”
I nodded. “We'll go independent.”
“E—” Yumeko-chan challenged, grinning back. “Can you do it?”
“Mochiron.”
Yumeko-chan made a playful squint in her eyes. “We'll see about that.” Then she squinted her eyes many times over, causing us both to laugh.
“You're Masato Sakurai. You always have something in you,” Yumeko-chan eventually said. I turned around when she watched me with attention. “Allerhöchste Eisenbahn, Masato. If it means bringing back your family's legacy.”
It was there when I saw it. Of what a young lady Yumeko-chan had grown into all along. And there I found the resolve to tackle this head on. I nodded.
“Hai,” I replied soon after.
We arrived early at Enge Church. We were able to attend a quick mass before they commenced the lighting of the beeswax candle through a white string that runs all over the tall Christmas tree. The yellow light flashes quickly through that string, yet once the candles were lit one by one, the distinct glow of these beeswax candles illuminated the room as if I knew what the Nutcracker feels like during this season.
We arrived in Nihon a month later. And there, I told myself that once I had proven my capabilities by reclaiming the company ojii-chan lost, I will meet Yumeko-chan again. I will tell her that she is the best one that has ever graced my life, and how Yumeko-chan has shed light on my journey. Whether it be like a candle or like a lantern during the Obon.
My senior year of secondary schooling was here in Nihon later. Yumeko-chan returned when university came.
“Ma-kun! I would like you to meet my fiancé, Hibiki.”
She's still the same, but more beautiful now. She's still the cheerful Yumeko-chan with the carefree air around her.
Yoshino Hibiki. The heir of Yoshino Properties. Yumeko-chan’s fiancé.
“Shouganai, oto-san. Whether we can influence or not influence Nakamura-kaichō is only up to him. But I do find his generosity a deal. No one could save our company to bankruptcy if he didn't take interest. Let's pay him our gratitude,” I said once I reverted back to the present again.
Oto-san breathed while looking elsewhere. When he turned his frustrated face to me, he began to ask, “you’ve finally come up with the report I gave you?”
And there I fixed my posture to talk directly with oto-san. “Hai.”
Oto-san nodded and inhaled again, crossing his arms, he sat back on his chair. “Let me hear it.”
“The shukkos have a right to worry,” I began. “Nevertheless, I do agree with the managers. It does not warrant our hotel to compromise quality. Oto-san, may I suggest that we separate the standardization the shukkos wanted by what class our guest belongs to? If cost-efficiency is what the honsha wants, we'll break-even by lean operation. We'll have our activities segmented, selected ones should be in Hyogo and the rest can be in Kyushu.”
Oto-san stopped for a moment to think before mumbling. “Yokatta. Lay them out and report them to me for a full review tomorrow. I'll call you later if a decision is ever reached among the shukkos. You'll inform the managers. Call the secretary, another dinner will be set soon enough.”
“Hai.” I nodded and stood up. I gave him an eshaku before leaving.
Yumeko-chan has a place set for her. I might as well take away her cheerful and carefree life with me. And to those years I was taught to do will end up all the way down the drain.
Yoshino Hibiki was the better suit after all. Because in the end, we have been set-up to become pawns in the grander scheme of things. If I'd tell Yumeko-chan to run away with me, would she do it? But if I take her away, then, I'll remove her to a place she's always belonged to. What does this gain? An us-against-the-world ending that’s just as futile, leading to consequences that will soon break us apart.
Yumeko-chan, the daughter of the Nakamura Corporation, running away with the heir of their subsidiary, Sakurai Hotels. Published and raged all over a sensationalized tabloid calling it as “against all odds.”
Defiance for the Sakurai Hotels. Humiliation for the Nakamura Corporation. Scandal for the world to feast.
My life motioned as if when I was sitting on a long train ride from Zürich, watching the white grandeur of the Alps. A long dark tunnel later, it changed to senbonzakura. Running the speed faster to no end of whether it's a promising future or something unreachable.
Foreign. Strange.
Later that month, I was called early into the meeting. When all the key members are present, oto-san walks in.
“O-sore de gozaimasu ga, hajimemashō ka?” His secretary commences, and oto-san nods to proceed.
Soon enough, after going through the motions, I heard him talk. He is willing to incorporate the Kyushu supply along with the value chain of the Hyogo contract the head manager had been insisting before.
Then oto-san concluded, “Okagesama de, yoi hōkō ni mieru to omoimasu.”
Time goes on, I worked as oto-san taught me. Grinded, not yet overworked. But for some exhaustion this gives me, my life becomes a bit blurry. After clubbing, my friends dragged me somewhere and before I knew it, my memory grew a vivid figment of it.
A stranger.
“Life's a blur and a hustle. A cycle to keep moving.”
“Hmm… quite right. Your childhood friend is really something. Do you also know her favorite color?”
The glisten of the brandy kept pouring into my glass. I took a gulp. Sou da… life moves too fast, I presume. Yumeko-chan swinging her Haferlschuhe. Yumeko-chan giggling at my calligraphy. Her hair band when the snow landed on her hair as we walked through the Zürich plaza.
“Yumeko-chan~ eto~ Yumeko-chan~ You know, she sounds like an aspiration but trust me, when you meet her, she's a truly nice girl.”
The bright brown glistened when it was poured again. It's like Yumeko-chan's eyes.
“I'm sure anyone who planted a bonsai at a young age is caring. Sakurai-san, your drink is running out?”
“Give me the last bottle.” I grabbed whatever was around my pocket.
Zürich. Berlin. Tokyo. Maybe, some postcards.
It's hazy but the brandy sparked like Yumeko-chan's gaze.
“I could've told her that I've liked her ever since I've known her. Will that change a thing for me?”
“You can tell her now.”
Here comes another flow of that amber colored brandy. I shook my head. “I don't want her to change how she treats me and how she'll become conscious of it.”
“At least you told her what you feel. Will it matter if she's happy or not? It will soothe you later.”
“Soka…” I mumbled..”I should do that later. Yumeko-chan… Yumeko-chan, daisuki desu.”
There was an amber glowing inside a glass. There was someone with the same black hair like Yumeko-chan brushed around her arms. But for some clarity, it's also a brown-skinned girl wearing a full-makeup.
