鳥 (The Birds)

  “So what happened?” Mr. Tanaka had stayed quiet though out the telling of Takuya’s story, but couldn’t contain himself any longer.

  “I made my way to the port, then found a local cargo ship and signed on as a deckhand. I worked my way to Okinawa, then Taiwan, then Vietnam. Somehow, I got hired on to a long-distance hauler heading to Africa, then on to Europe. I didn’t care where the boat was going, as long as I could get on board, I would do any job. I kept my promise to Chizuru and I traveled the world.”

  Clasping his hands, Takuya hung his head. He was spiritually exhausted. He had never told anyone the whole story. He’d mentioned parts, but it was strange to have told the whole story like this. He felt like his spirit had left his body along with the words of his story. It was a release that left him feeling cold inside.

  “Mr. Miyabayashi, I am so sorry for your loss. I can’t say I understand the pain you have been through, but I have lost enough to sympathize. Poor Sayla, she’s had it the hardest. She misses her father terribly, and since then, she’s regressed somewhat. Acting more childish, maybe hoping that will bring him back to protect her. When we lost my son, it was devastating, but we had his whole life to get ready for it. My son was born with a problem, you see, a weakness in his heart. We were told it was a miracle that he had survived at all. Every day of his life, he knew it might be his last, so we indulged him, let him do whatever he wanted. He made it much longer than anyone could have expected, that didn’t make losing him any less painful, but there was nothing we could do to help poor Sayla.”

  The old man moved unconsciously, pressing the button on the e-cigarette case, then removing the short cigarette, and taking a long drag.

  “We spoiled him, or tried to at least, but he didn’t become spoiled. He was a good child and grew up to be a good man. He was kind to everyone, thoughtful, and generous. He never lived in fear of his condition. He had friends, and got married, and even had a beautiful daughter. He gave us, his unworthy parents, the grandchild that we had given up all hope on while he was still a child himself.”

  “You can’t spoil a child with love,” Takuya mumbled.

  “What?” Mr. Takeda seemed to snap out of a trance at the words. He looked down in surprise at the cigarette in his hand, then shook his head slightly and took another drag.

  “It’s just something someone told me once. You can’t spoil a child with love, only indulgence given instead of love can spoil a child.”

  The old man smiled.

  “Hmmm, perhaps. That would go a long way in easing my heart if it is true. Thank you for saying it.”

  Then he turned his gaze back to Takuya’s face.

  “So, why have you come back to Japan, Mr. Miyabayashi?”

  Takuya frowned.

  “I’m not entirely sure. I was in Surabaya, and was thinking about going to Australia, when I had a disturbing dream. I don’t remember what it was about, or if it was even a dream, I just woke up one day with a strong desire to see my wife… my family again. It took a while to save up enough for the flight, but I finally made it back a few weeks ago. I’m not sure what I am doing here now. I visited her family grave. The restaurant is gone, of course…”

  Standing up, Takuya found his bag on a seat where he had placed it earlier. He dug into a pocket on the inside of the bag and pulled out a small pouch. Inside, he removed three small objects and placed them on the table. A small candy tin, the kind you used to be able to get at the corner shop for ten yen, A wallet sized acrylic picture frame with a photograph of a man and a woman standing in front of a building, and a hand carved wooden figure of a small bird.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “This is all I have now. The only possessions I own are worth anything. This is Chizuru, right after we opened the restaurant.”

  He handed the photograph to the old man. It was a casual photograph, showing a man, who looked like a much younger version of the person who was sitting at the table, and a young, cheerful looking woman with a big smile and long, curly, dark brown hair. They looked young and happy, ready to start a new life. Then the old man looked at the candy tin with curiosity.

  “Our wedding bands. I find it best not to wear jewelry when sleeping outside, not that they are particularly valuable,” Takuya answered sheepishly.

  “And the bird?”

  “I never even had a chance to make a single memory with my daughter before I lost her. No pictures, nothing. I saved only this, a toy my wife found in a local shop after we had decided on her name. It’s a sparrow, just like in her name. Both she and her mother had birds in their names.”

  Takuya stopped talking for a moment, and Mr. Takeda thought about the names for a moment. Chizuru could be written as a thousand cranes (千鶴), a symbol of long life. Ayari was an unusual name, and there were many different ways to write it. Sensing the old man’s thoughts, Takuya explained the name.

  “Ayari is written the same way as Suzaku,” he explained.

  After a moment, the old man nodded. Indeed, the name could be written as (朱雀), a type of red-plumed sparrow. It was also the name of the Chinese divine beast, the vermillion bird that protected the south. It was an unusual and auspicious name, as was her mother’s.

  “These are the only keepsakes I have, and every night, before I sleep, I take them out, and share my day. Wherever I have been, whatever I experienced, or witnessed, I want to share it with them. They should have lived long and blessed lives, but instead…”

  Takuya struggled to compose himself. It was hard to breathe, and he felt his chest compress, his emotional state making it hard to draw a breath. After what felt like a long time, with the two men sitting in silence, the older one spoke again.

  “If you had met my son, I think you would have found you have a lot in common. Like you, he spent most of his time thinking of others. His family, or his friends, or even the strangers he met. That’s why this place exists. He wasn’t a talented cook, nor was he passionate about running a restaurant. He was a YouTuber. He had one of those video channels on the internet. At first he just made videos about cooking, but he decided one day to use his channel to share the stories of ordinary people. He would film himself cooking, and while he cooked, he told the stories of the people he met. He never made any money off the restaurant. Instead, people could pay him in stories. Many of his customers had lost everything, but he let people know that in exchange for sharing their stories with him, he would feed them whenever they needed a warm meal. He would then share their lives with the world. Successes and failures, achievements and regrets, he told every story without judgment or embellishment. He once told me he did it so that he could bring greater meaning to his time on this planet. Sharing a life was, in a way, the same as saving a life to him. I’m not sure I understood what he meant at the time, but thinking about it now, while talking to you, I think, perhaps, that I finally have gotten closer to him.”

  Takuya could see a single tear trace a line down the man’s cheek, then the moment passed and the man regained his composure.

  Then, suddenly, something clicked in Takuya’s memory.

  “Pazu’s Kitchen?”

  The old man’s eyes widened in recognition.

  “Yes, that was the name of his video channel. How did you…”

  Takuya was looking around the room, taking in the details again. He realized now, why the restaurant seemed so familiar, so comfortable.

  “I know this place… I’ve seen it, before. I used to watch his channel, when I was getting ready to open my own restaurant. I was a fan. I wanted to have a restaurant like this someday…”

  Standing up, Takuya went back to the kitchen. He remembered the counter, and the stove. It was different seeing it in person, but now that he had made the connection, it was clearly the same as he remembered. He could now see and recognize the places where cameras had been mounted to film every detail of the cooking process. He could even remember the host’s face and… his young daughter. He had seen Sayla, years ago. Her name was never put in the videos, but again, now that the connection had been made…

  Takuya was speechless. He had respected the internet personality. Now, after all this time, he couldn’t believe that he was here, under these circumstances. It was surreal that such coincidences happened.

  “I see,” said Mr. Takeda, while nodding his head. “A fan… Yes, like I said, I am sure you two would have gotten along.”