Holes in Your Socks
On the way back to the old alleyway leading to The Blue Frogs Ryokan and the karaoke bar, Mizuki suddenly said, “Do you know when love ends between a couple?”
I was taken aback by this odd question. “I don’t know . . . When you have an affair?”
“That’s a consequence of the end of a relationship, but there are things that indicate it was over a long time before that.”
“What things?” This subject was making me feel uncomfortable. “Sorry, perhaps I’m a bit insensitive and don’t see these things.”
“People don’t usually think about what I’m going to tell you now, but I think it’s a very precise description of a relationship. Let me see if I can explain it to you . . .”
We’d reached the bar that bore my name, but we didn’t go straight in. Mizuki leaned back against the wall, one foot lifted to rest flat against it, and explained her theory.
“Love is madness and inspiration. Plato said that anyone who’s in love becomes a poet.
To a greater or lesser extent, people indulge in all kinds of silliness trying to impress the person they love.
So, when everything’s going well, your partner will surprise you on your birthday or at Christmas with a trip to some place you never dreamed existed, or take you to a special secret restaurant.
Things like that.” Mizuki paused to take in a deep breath.
“So, when couples start giving each other practical gifts, it means their passion has died.”
“What sort of practical gifts?” I was getting defensive. My last gift to Gabriela had been to enroll her in a course of Hebrew, which I knew would make her very happy.
“I mean the everyday things you need, useful gifts: an anorak for rainy days, a new pair of shoes just like the ones you always wear that are falling apart, T-shirts and underwear. Well, that’s if we’re talking about clothes.
To sum up, they’re things you need, but you’d buy them yourself in normal circumstances.
Can you imagine Juliet giving Romeo a couple of T-shirts and some underpants? ”
“I don’t like it when you’re so cynical.
” I was getting annoyed. “Maybe it’s more romantic to give a hundred roses or a heart made of your own hair, but practical gifts show you don’t want your partner to lack anything they need.
If your man has holes in his socks, you give him four new pairs.
It’s as simple as that. So what’s the problem? ”
“The problem is that your partner only spends half a minute thinking about your gift, when before they used to plan it out for days.”
“There was a time . . . ,” I wanted to rebut this immature idea of love. “There was a time when you didn’t even know your beloved had holes in his socks. That kind of knowledge comes with living together, and it’s natural that a relationship should move on to more run-of-the-mill things.”
As a man who’d been left by his partner without ever having lived with her, I could see that my little speech wasn’t very convincing. But I was defending millions of people who turn new underpants, T-shirts and socks into an act of love.
Just then the bar door opened and out came Okamura. He seemed to be drunk, and this was confirmed when he started shouting.
“What the hell you are doing out here? This poor old man does not want to drink by himself.”
“Come on, let’s go in,” I said, happy to be able to change the subject. “Anyway, you owe me a song.”
“And I expect something in return.”
Puzzled by those words, I followed the two of them inside the tiny karaoke bar. Mizuki ordered cold, unfiltered sake and then asked the woman to put on “I Look Up when I Walk.”
With its xylophone and violin intro, it sounded like a ballad from way back when. The melody was naively cheerful.
Ue wo muite aruko
Namida ga koborenai yo ni
Omoidasu haru no hi
Hitoribotchi no yoru
Mizuki’s voice was sweet and delicate, giving the song a feel of an old-fashioned cartoon theme tune. That was only the first of the songs she and her uncle sang that night, while bottles of sake kept emptying so fast that even the woman behind the bar looked pleased for once.