Linking Pieces of the Puzzle

After classes had ended for the day, I snuck my way out of Hiroshi’s sight. Dodging and weaving my way through bushes and waves of students, I successfully escaped his grasp as I reached the front gate of the university. My classes were tolerable, I was able to focus, but I struggled keeping up with the lecturing pace as the Lecturer spoke in Japanese dialects I could not understand perfectly. I knew that self-study was my only option, to ensure my grades were perfect for the upcoming year. I’d helped Misako to all of our classes, but she did not thank, or acknowledge me. I disregarded her mannerisms, as my attitudes were the same back home in Britain. In Japan, for some reason, I had a lighter, more talkative mood. A mystery I decided to let be. At the front gate, I observed Misako, she sat patiently waiting for someone. I assumed she was in wait for Mister Takahashi to arrive. In hand, she read some notes she made during her classes.

“Hey, Ishihara.” I greeted her.

She nodded calmly; I was lucky she was not repulsed by my sight.

“Are you waiting for Mister Takahashi?” I asked her.

She nodded, continuing to read her class notes.

“Want me to help you get home?” I asked her.

She sighed, then shook her head:

“I’m not going back to the boarding house.” She finally spoke.

“Going to visit family?” I asked.

She recoiled from my answer, then shook her head.

“N-no. I have a part time job.” She said.

“Wow, a part-time job? And you study full-time? That must be hard.” I exclaimed.

“No, it’s not hard. I actually pay attention in class.” She retorted.

I felt a gut punch, but she was right. It was unordinary for a student studying an exceedingly hard degree to pick up a part-time job. But everyone had their difficulties with money, I understood that all too well. I was lucky enough to receive a bursary, if I hadn’t, I would never have had the chance to study in Japan, let alone outside my home-country.

“Where do you work?” I asked.

“Not too far from here.”

“Are you sure you don’t need some help? I mean I’m here right now.”

She placed a palm on her forehead, I could tell she was attempting to qualm her disdain for my barrage questioning. I felt like an investigator prodding her personal life.

“Sorry for all my questions.” I added.

“If you help me, will you please just leave me alone for the rest of today?” She asked.

“No promises, we live together.”

“Don’t word it like that, we aren’t married.” She said.

I blushed.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that-” I responded.

I could hear Misako giggle under her breath. At least she didn’t think I was a total freak. Seeing her have some fun was a good sign she had some sense of tolerance for me.

“Let’s go then. I will let uncle know he doesn’t need to come.” Misako said as she took out her cell phone.

We strolled down the busy walkway of Tokyo, students and workers rushed by as the day was ending. I somewhat enjoyed the work culture within Tokyo, everyone seemed focused and not, lazy, like the people from my home country. The air was orange as the sun began setting. Misako directed me as I pushed her wheelchair along, I knew that she lied about her job being close to the university, but I didn’t mind helping her to take the load off Mister Takahashi.

“Can I ask you something?” I said, breaking the quietness.

“Nothing about my underwear, or my personal life.” She remarked.

“Is that what you think I am?”

“What did you want to ask?”

“Do you know Hiroshi? It seemed like you’ve known him.”

“Unfortunately, yes. I know that idiot.”

“How so? I mean, how do you know him?”

“We went to school together. I’ve suffered with him for over six years now.”

“I apologize, it must’ve been rough.”

“It was, but he always keeps things exciting.”

“That much is true.”

I could see Misako fidgeting as we spoke, as played with the pocket watch in her pocket as we neared the store. From the outside, one could see a man tinkering away at watches within the store. I looked up to see the sign: Mitamo Watch Repairs. I was dumbfounded, speechless.

“Ishihara…you work here?” I asked her as we stood outside the store.

“I do, yes.” She exclaimed.

I furled my brow, something was not right within my brain, but I could not place what it was. The harder I tried to think, the more I could feel another headache incoming, so I gave up on thinking. I helped roll her inside the store, and greeted the man who was busy tinkering away at an expensive looking watch. The older man looked to be in his late forties, I could tell he was a professional by the cleanliness in his suit and hands, not a smidge of dirt could be seen. The man rolled up his professional magnifying glasses as he walked in front of us.

“Miss Ishihara, you came early today.” He spoke. The man noticed my presence behind Misako and held out a hand to greet me.

“Nice to meet you son, a friend of Ishihara?”

“No, we are just living together. I’m David Taylor.” I exclaimed, greeting the man.

“I’m Toji Mitamo. It’s nice to meet an acquaintance of Ishihara’s.”

“Thanks, you can go now.” Misako claimed.

“Don’t be so brash, Miss Ishihara,” Mister Mitamo said, “I can tell your friend is interested in my store.”

“We aren’t-” Misako began.

“Do you like watches, son?” He asked me, cutting Misako off.

“I do, in fact. I love the craftwork that goes into making watches.” I replied.

I could see Misako staring at me, she was confused at my response.

“Wow, it’s rare to find a fellow enjoyer of such a niche hobby. Would you like to take a look at some of my client’s watches?” Mister Mitamo asked me.

“If you would allow me.” I replied.

Mister Mitamo showed me a collection of watches, ranging from mid-range to super ultra collectors watches. Most brands were from outside Japan, from Germany to Switzerland. I revelled in excitement at a pure-black watch that was created in China:

“That Goldinger watch, that’s priceless…” I began, admiring its beauty, “One of your clients must be the luckiest person on Earth to get their hands on this.”

“That’s actually mine.” He said with a gloat.

My mouth was agape. A watchmaker that’s able to afford a rare watch? That was unheard of in my sphere of the globe. Watchmakers did not earn enough to afford even mid-range watches, let alone an ultra-rare collectible watch.

“No way, they only made ten of those.” I said to mister Mitamo.

“I was very lucky. Very lucky indeed.” He replied.

I could see Misako smile at the watch as well. I came to realize that she must love watches as well, I saw her violet eyes lighten at the sight of the watches.

“I never knew you liked watches too, Ishihara.” I commented.

“Well, we barely know each other.” She replied.

She then had a eureka moment, like a lightbulb lit inside her brain.

“Wait, uncle Toji…” She began.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Take a look at this.” She started.

Misako searched for her pocket watch, then handed it to him, and he inspected it.

“What about it? I still don’t know the brand name, or who made it.” He commented.

“Well, wait for it…” She spoke.

Misako looked at me, and I knew what she meant, I took out my own pocket watch and handed it to Mister Mitamo. His eyes lit up like a faerie, he placed his magnifying glasses on, inspecting the two pocket watches with precision. I could see confusion and excitement run across his entire face.

“My god, they are the exact duplication of one another.” Mister Mitamo spoke.

“Exactly, this boy and I have the same watch.” Misako replied.

Mr Mitamo picked his head up, looking at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“My boy, do you know who made these watches?” He asked.

“I do.” I replied.

Misako turned her head on a swivel, her and Mister Mitamo looked at me with piercing pupils.

“Wait, you know who made this?” She asked.

“Of course, I do…” I began.

“Why didn’t you say so? Who made these watches?” She asked again.

“Well…” I trailed off, unable to speak my mind precisely.

“Well, what? Out with it!”

“I believe I made these watches.” I finally said.

Silence befell them like I’d committed an atrocity that laid waste to humanity. I was unsure if I should have told them.