Chapter 19 BETH
BETH
Just follow your heart.
“Your father’s birthday is tomorrow,” Mrs. Takahashi said, her gaze fixed on Kenzo who was sitting across from her on the dining table.
I glanced Kenzo’s way, shaking my head at his expected reaction; a deep frown, lips in a thin line.
It was a Friday evening. Mother was away again.
She left for an outreach yesterday sponsored by the NGO she worked for.
I didn’t really catch half of the things she said.
It did involve some mission, some village, some souls.
She would be gone for the whole week. She left behind instructions, sharp as a knife.
Don’t hang out with boys. Don’t invite anyone into my house.
Pray.
With her gone, the house felt hollow enough to breathe in. But I decided to sleep over at Kenzo’s for the weekend. I would return home on Monday.
“So?” Kenzo’s sharp tone pulled me out of my train of thoughts.
I feared there never would be a day where this boy handled the topic
about his father in a normal, lighthearted way.
A weak, slightly saddened smile lifted the corner of his mother’s lips. “I know you two are not in a good place yet, but call him and wish him at least. He is still your father.”
“With all due respect, this is really unnecessary, mom.” Kenzo dropped his chopstick angrily. “Why do I have to do that? The man doesn’t even give a damn about some birthday wishes from a freak son he sent away.”
“I’m sure he will be happy if you do,” Mrs. Takahashi assured, her voice maintaining the same clinical softness even though Kenzo’s was a little grating. “Just wish him on his special day.”
“Sorry, but I’m not doing that.”
I let out a sigh at his stubbornness. As far as I was concerned, it wasn’t so much of a big deal.
It was just a hey, hi, happy birthday, and that would be all.
But then again, I was way too forgiving.
It was almost a flaw. I saw Banks Awolowo across the hall yesterday and waved at him, smiled at him.
I searched for anger and resentment towards him but couldn’t find none.
I really couldn’t find any trace of both.
Maybe it was normal that Kenzo was still angry at his father who, as far as he was concerned, basically disowned him for being who he was.
Well, his father claimed he was ready to put the past behind them if Kenzo could, in Mr. Hashumi Takahashi’s term, ungay himself. But how does one stop being gay?
Perhaps, Mr. Takahashi viewed sexuality as a temporary stage. You had the freedom to identify as gay today and straight tomorrow.
Kenzo was 10 when his 12-year-old cousin outed him during a family dinner.
The Takahashis were one of the most influential families in Japan, their wealth and power woven into the fabric of Tokyo and Kyoto.
And with prestige came scrutiny, the eyes of the country always watching. Waiting for the slightest misstep.
They had built their legacy on control, on the illusion of perfection. There must be no room for scandal, no room for weakness and certainly, no room for the shame of a grandson who would one day bring home a husband instead of a wife.
So they sent Kenzo off to a far away land–Scotland. ‘There are people like him there,’ they said. ‘He will fit in until he comes back to his senses.’
But Kenzo was Rose Takahashi’s only child, the only thread tying her to that family. What use was she when her son was across the world, far away from her?
They sent her off to monitor her son and take care of him.
It had been 8 years or thereabout. Rumor had it that Hashumi Takahashi had gotten remarried.
Neither Kenzo nor his mom knew for sure yet.
Rose was told to not come back until her son was normal again.
Therefore, no one had confirmed the news of her husband’s remarriage.
And Rose didn’t particularly enjoy talking about it.
Because deep down, she didn’t want it to be true. She loved her husband, after all.
This was why she was so angry when Kenzo did what he wouldn’t normally do. Be violent. He was already ostracised for his sexuality. She was scared her son had added violence to it, furthermore smearing his image in the eyes of his father.
She was waiting for the time they would go back to Japan. She didn’t want anything going wrong.
But Kenzo, though, didn’t think he would ever go back, unless he became less gay. Which was impossible. His heart would never beat for a woman. And he would never spend the rest of his life caged, living a false life, living with someone he would never truly love.
Sometimes, he worried he might unknowingly have cost his mother happiness. But the issue was out of his control. He couldn’t become who he was not to save his mother’s marriage.
“Kenzo–”
“Hanatte oite okāsan, Jesus Christ!”
Kenzo angrily kicked his chair backward, making me jump in my seat.
My gaze bounced between the mother and son. Kenzo was angry, his face red, while Mrs. Takahashi was frustrated and close to tears. The woman hated seeing her son so upset. He was her sunflower and he deserved nothing but joy.
“Where are you going?” Mrs. Takahashi asked as Kenzo whipped around, bounding away.
“Somewhere no one is going to disturb me to call my so-called father.” He worded father as though it was a poison on his tongue that he was dying to spit out.
Mrs. Takahashi’s eyes fell on his remaining meal and she motioned to it. “Semete tabe owatte.”
“I have lost my appetite,” he replied to whatever his mother said concerning his untouched meal, then turned his eyes to me. “I’m going to my room.”
“Okay.” I gave him a gentle nod, a kind smile lifting the corners of my lips.
I heard a rather agonising sigh from the table and my gaze flickered to Mrs. Takahashi.
The woman looked defeated. She always looked defeated. Life wasn’t the most fair to her either. A woman should not be forced to live far away from the man she married and loved. A woman shouldn’t have to choose between her only son and her first love.
“Sorry about that,” I said on Kenzo’s behalf. “I’m sure he’ll come around. I’ll um, I’ll try to talk to him.”
“Thank you, Beth.” Her mood lightened, a smile gracing her lips. “I’ll really appreciate that.”
???
“What are you watching?” I asked, forcing Kenzo to scoot away on the cuddle chair placed a few centimeters from the television screen.
“Jumanji,” he mumbled, slumped on the couch, arms crossed, eyes on the screen, but it was plain he was not really into the film. “Welcome to the jungle.”
“Come on, Takahashi, not that creepy stuff again,” I moaned, reaching for the popcorn placed on his lap as I cuddled close, breathing in his scent.
“It’s nice.” He shrugged, his voice barely carrying any form of enthusiasm.
“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t as though the movie was bad. I just didn’t think it was nice enough for someone to watch it twenty times.
As the movie flickered across the screen, I remembered promising his mom to talk him into calling his dad.
I stole a glance at him. His jaw was set, fingers drumming a slow, steady beat on his thigh.
“So, um,” I started, carefully.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He silenced me before I could even build the courage to keep talking.
“Uh, sure. Okay.” I nodded, releasing a defeated sigh.
After a beat, I cleared my throat, sitting up on the couch. Kenzo glanced at me from the corner of his eyes, but his gaze remained focused on the screen.
“So, if you don’t want to talk about your problems, can we maybe talk about mine?”
His sharp eyes flickered to me, a tired exhale breaking through his lips, his brow raised. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not exactly.” I gave him a sheepish grin.
He shook his head, making a vague gesture for me to go on.
Hesitant to speak, I gazed at my hands. Kenzo was probably tired of hearing about my boy problems. But he was all I had. He was the only one that would genuinely listen.
“So, Rowan has been texting me still,” I started, unsure of where this conversation would lead me.
Rowan indeed had been texting me, incessantly, for the past one week now. The first one had dropped into my inbox on a Saturday morning. I had thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me.
Then I read the message over and over again, but nothing changed. It didn’t disappear, morph into something I couldn’t define.
Just ‘hey, it’s me.’
And it sat there unanswered for the entire day. Then more came in. Apologies, explanations, the desire to meet me. All remained unanswered. Because I didn’t know what to say. Because I wasn’t sure what I wanted. What was with them ghosting me then crawling back?
Kenzo’s expression was flat as he replied with, “And?”
“I’m at my wit’s end, trying to figure out what to do,” I said, my voice mirroring my frustration. “I tried on countless occasions to reach out to him, you know.” I pouted in defeat. “I guess I don’t know what to say to him? This whole shit is making me absolutely nuts.”
“And on the other hand?” he urged.
“And,” I murmured, my fingers picking at the thread sticking out of my arm warmer. “I think I want Callan instead.”
Kenzo straightened slightly, his expression darkening.
“I haven’t texted him yet.” I rushed to admit, as if I needed any reason to justify my actions.
“But I think what I did to him was wrong. Maybe I was too fast. I mean, I already knew things like this are new to him. What if he didn’t know how to commit or how to handle a relationship?
What if he just needed a few more weeks or even months?
” Pausing, my eyes darted to the screen, yet my attention remained diffused.
“I don’t know. I feel like maybe I closed the door on him too quickly.
I was impatient and selfish, wanting everything done at my pace and timing, you know? ”
I took a deep breath. Callan was a man of brief words. Just because I, on the other hand, felt deeply didn’t mean he was emotionless. He might have required my help to comprehend his feelings. But I closed the door without giving him a chance.
“Honestly, I really want you to move on,” Kenzo said, his tone serious. “Both relationships or whatever keep hurting you. I really want you to leave them behind and take a distinct step.”
Unsatisfied, I knitted my brows at what he just said. Surely, cutting off the two men who had truly ever made me feel things at a great length wasn’t the only solution to this problem, was it?
“Especially that Russian or Scottish dude,” Kenzo added. “I don’t know. There is just something really off about him, you know. No social media, no records, nothing? For heaven’s sake, why can’t you find it weird? You think he is being cool?”
I bit my lower lip nervously. He was indeed making a fair point.
But maybe I was just too stupid that I couldn’t see the signs because truly, I didn’t see anything wrong with a man hating having his information on social media and his face on random people’s devices.
If I had my way, I would go to that extent for myself too.
Honestly, being a ghost on the internet was really cool.
“Seriously, people who go that far to hide their existence usually have a damn good reason.” Kenzo didn’t seem to share my sentiment at all.
With quiet contemplation, I chewed on the inside of my cheek.
Then he leaned forward. “For once, run in the opposite of danger, Beth. Jesus.”
I acknowledged the painful truth in his words.
But I couldn’t help the direction my heart kept steering.
I couldn’t control it. It was like I was obsessed, infected with a venom that had made home in my veins, beneath my skin, never letting go.
I wanted Callan so badly, it scared me. I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since our last encounter.
I kept going through our messages every night, smiling at nothing, dreaming about his warmth, his eyes, his voice.
“But,” he sighed, leaning back again. “I know you’re going to do whatever you want, no matter what I say.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “The chances are quite high, to be honest.”
He rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Just…follow your heart.”
I nodded, the thought stirring inside me long after the conversation ended.
Just follow your heart.