The Reunion

A month had passed since Aoi and Mika had first met. The burning summer became a warm one instead, but the insects still roared into the firmament, piercing the usual sounds of Mika's corner of Tokyo. There, in the tiny park at the edge of the river, sat Mika on a Wednesday evening.

She hummed along her guitar, singing not towards the plants, but towards the river. Bicycles and pedestrians alike passed by, on their way home, or going to a local business. Nobody stopped or paid attention to her, but she was still musicalizing their evening with a smile.

Out of sight, on the building next door, Aoi leaned on the wall listening to Mika’s voice. A month had gone by, and he was relieved to finally hear her once more. He hesitated if he should show himself, and didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but realized he was there for a reason, and he wasn’t planning on backing out. He popped out from behind the building and looked at Mika, who was powering through the evening with a smile and her voice. His determined face quickly melted away as they both saw each other. He was surprised by Mika facing the river, and not away from him like when they first met.

“It’s you,” said Mika as she finished her song. “Welcome back to this corner of town!” She smiled at Aoi, who despite feeling fairly indifferent moments before, was now seemingly frozen and confused. Mika did not change her expression. The warmth she was so unable to take from others, was one that was now radiating from her.

“Good evening,” said Aoi, resorting to the most basic of greetings.

“I’m glad you showed up again,” said Mika. For a brief moment, Aoi could feel the sparkle of her heart. “I’m supposed to pay you back, ya know?” Mika spoke casually to him, trying to ease him into the conversation.

“For what?” he asked, not understanding why she felt obliged to repay him.

“The money, don’t you remember?” Mika seemed surprised that the debt that she carried seemed completely irrelevant to Aoi.

“Really? Is that something you need to pay me back for?” Aoi stood there confused, before Mika motioned him over.

“Yeah, yeah. Over here, sit down.” Mika signaled Aoi while laying down a blanket for him on the ground where he could sit. She then opened her backpack and handed Aoi a can of vending machine coffee. It was lukewarm. It was supposed to be hot, but now it seemed to only retain the heat of Mika’s own body and the environment. Aoi understood she had probably been holding on to it for a while. “I also got these,” said Mika as she unwrapped a couple of pastries from the bakery. “Behold! Pain au chocolat!” she said, excited.

Aoi seemed confused at the whole scene, with many questions in his mind. “Coffee at this time of the day?” That was the only question he could conjure.

“Yeah,” said Mika as she took a bite of her slightly melted chocolate croissant, “you seem like the kind to drink coffee in the evenings.”

“Is that so?” asked Aoi. He was wondering about Mika’s stereotypes, and her proper pronunciation of the pastry, and why she was there again, cheerful, after being gone for a month. He realized there was too much context in this conversation, context he wouldn’t be able to unwrap in one night. Mika seemed happy while overwhelming him emotionally, even though she was completely unaware of what she was doing.

“I’ll keep getting you these until I’ve paid you back!” said Mika proudly. Aoi wished she didn’t, by his calculations it would take about six months to fully pay him back, and he didn’t really enjoy coffee.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” He tried to answer in a kind tone, to allow herself to forgive the debt, but it came out unemotional and flat.

“Of course I do! We always pay our debts in my family!” Mika answered, determined. Aoi resigned himself to perhaps months of lukewarm, canned coffee.

Yet, for how mediocre the coffee was, and how average the leftover pastries were, Aoi was truly enjoying her company, to the point of feeling guilty of imposing on her practice time.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your show, I can stand to the side again, if you wish,” said Aoi, trying to give her space as he prepared to get up.

“No!” said Mika loudly, before realizing her tone was perhaps too enthusiastic. “What show? I’m just practicing,” she said, going back to her more cheerful, milder demeanor. They kept talking for about an hour, as time flew by. Mika was an expert at not letting silence take over, but Aoi noticed she perhaps feared silence more than she should. The passersby simply smiled at the pair talking in the park, with the occasional chord coming out of Mika’s guitar.

“How did you learn to play guitar?” Aoi asked, trying to ease Mika’s burden of filling the conversation, a burden that wasn’t necessary and was clearly self imposed.

“The internet,” she said with confidence.

“You’re self taught?” Aoi followed up. Mika simply nodded back at him. Aoi couldn’t help but be impressed at her drive, even if her playing wasn’t spectacular. After a few moments of thinking and silence, Aoi once again asked, “Wouldn’t you like to take some training, for example some vocal lessons. I don’t want to repeat what I said but…”

“It’s fine,” answered Mika, trying to avoid reliving his words. She perhaps sensed Aoi’s guilt about the situation, but she also didn’t want to think too much about it. “There’s nothing you can’t learn from a video or two and lots and lots of practice.”

Aoi struggled to take the last sip of the canned coffee before he spoke again. “How about a studio, so you can practice without feeling like you’re bothering anyone? Or a school?”

“They don’t teach music at my University so there’s no soundproof rooms…” said Mika, with some disappointment in her voice. “And studios are expensive.” Mika’s sad tone made Aoi reflect some more.

“There’s a famous singer I’ve listened to, she soundproofed her closet with leftover materials and practiced in there for a long time, that’s how she learned. You could… Try something like that,” suggested Aoi.

Mika let out a short, innocent laugh. “Who around here has a closet big enough for that?” Mika was still saddened by the conversation.

Aoi, for the first time, felt how wide the distance was between them. He never thought about the price of things, but here she was, her sole reason being the cost, stopping her from progressing her dream.

“What if I told you I know a vocal trainer with a studio that could give you a good deal,” he said. He tried to force a smile, but, judging by Mika’s response, it was an utter failure.

“I… I can’t possibly do that!” said Mika, embarrassed by his offer. Aoi didn’t expect that reaction from her.

“I see,” he said, understanding she needed some distance. “Just let me know if you ever want to.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry,” said Mika, with a flurry of emotions along her words. Aoi seemed confused by her sudden distance. He was also somewhat sad that she had clearly drawn a line between them.

But what could he do? They had barely met, there was a lot to her than he could understand in one evening. And there was a lot to Aoi that Mika didn’t understand either. She perhaps understood him even less.