Tokyo Love (33 page)

Kathleen took it from her, opening the narrow piece of paper. She had been practicing her reading skills, even while touring the country. However this was a whole new level of difficult. She knew she should have memorized more
kanji
. She held it out to Yuriko. “Can you read it for me?”

Yuriko glanced at it, and then she frowned and took it. She read it over carefully several times and Kathleen was dying to know what it said. Yuriko handed it back. “You've gotten the best luck. That's actually pretty rare.”

Kathleen held the paper, grinning. “Really? Well, I guess I've improved since Nikko, right?”

Yuriko nodded, looking to her own fortune.

“Well? What does yours say?”

Yuriko shrugged. “It's the worst.”

Kathleen blinked. “The worst?”

Yuriko nodded and walked over to a scaffolding of string set up. People had already been putting their fortunes there, filling up the space until it looked almost like a solid wall of tied paper. Yuriko found a spot and carefully tied hers.

“Should I put mine there?” Kathleen asked.

“No, keep yours, since it's such good luck.”

“Oh, okay.” Kathleen tucked hers into her pocket. They were both silent for a minute and Kathleen wanted to speak, but she didn't know what to say. Yuriko was checking her wrist phone and Kathleen knew she would probably want to leave soon. Kathleen didn't want to leave yet. She felt like she had gotten tremendously lucky, coming here with Yuriko. Once they parted, she might never get another chance.

Yuriko started to speak, “Well, I'd better get going—”

“Did you know Ai created a code by herself?” she blurted out.

Yuriko paused, obviously stunned by the random outburst. She looked at her then, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Really? She could do that?”

“Y-yeah. It's actually kind of cool. She couldn't change her original code, but she was attempting to tweak it a bit. It, um, actually seemed like an interesting idea. So that's why I've decided to try and adapt it.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. It still stuck. “She, um, she was kinda trying to … ah, match us together.” She could feel her hands shaking, so she shoved them in her pockets. She knew her face was burning. “Did you know?”

“I did know.”

Kathleen glanced up and Yuriko had her eyes closed momentarily. When she opened them, they seemed clearer, glassier in the morning light. Kathleen had to look away. “Well, I mean, it's a good idea. It makes a lot of sense. I mean … 'cause a PLC is supposed to have every quality you like in a partner. So they would know exactly what kind of partner you would want or n-need. And since they are a computer, they are unbiased. Maybe someone got a PLC because they were lonely, but maybe they would rather have a real person as a partner. Well, the PLC could help with that too. Anyway, I've been trying to finish it. That's what I've been working on in my spare time.”

Yuriko wasn't speaking, but she was staring down at Kathleen, making her nervous.

So rambled on. “I haven't introduced it at work yet. It's still in development. Ai had a lot of trouble with it because it conflicted with the original coding, so we have to fix that. Of course, she had only half-completed it, so I have to finish the rest. Then we'll need to run it through some sims, just to make sure it is a viable thing and doesn't always break. And then—”

“Kathleen?”

“Um, yes?”

“What are you trying to say?”

Kathleen wasn't sure anymore. Did she tell Yuriko how going through Ai's memories had made her start rethinking all her decisions? That sounded weird and pathetic. Yuriko probably had already moved on. Probably was thoroughly sick of Kathleen and her inability to
think
under this kind of pressure. Why hadn't she practiced what to say? What did she want to say? She couldn't remember anymore and Yuriko was just
staring
at her.

Yuriko suddenly gripped Kathleen's wrist. “Kathleen.” It wasn't a question; it was a demand.

Kathleen couldn't meet her eyes. “I missed you, you know, these past few months. I got to see all these amazing places and meet a lot of new interesting people and do a whole bunch of things that I probably would have never done otherwise. But I kept wishing you had been there too. Because I missed you, the whole time.”

“You missed me?”

Kathleen nodded, but when she looked up Yuriko was frowning.

“That is … it?”

Kathleen felt like she was dying. Her hands were numb, legs unsteady, and her brain wasn't working right. She knew what Yuriko wanted, what Yuriko always wanted. Clarification, simple, straightforward.

I need an honest, simple answer.

Yuriko had said this before and she was still waiting. For some reason, some wonderful inexplicable reason she was still waiting on Kathleen. Yet Kathleen still didn't have the words.

“Y-yeah,” she gasped out. The inadequacy of the word physically hurt to say.

Yuriko suddenly closed her eyes and Kathleen could breathe a little easier, though everything inside her still churned unpleasantly. Then Yuriko stepped away. “You know what … never mind. I think I'll be heading back now. Just … good luck with that. It does sound like it has potential.” Then she was walking away.

Kathleen knew this was the point in all the TV shows and the dramas and the movies where she should run to Yuriko, reach out and take her hand. The screen would flash white and something romantic would happen, like falling cherry blossoms, or snow might be appropriate. Yuriko would be confused, maybe even annoyed. But then Kathleen would take in a deep breath and say …

Nothing, because Yuriko was gone, blending into the crowd. Kathleen was a fool. She wasn't living in some movie or dumb anime that Ai used to make her watch. She was living in the real world where if people didn't communicate, then no one understood. If people didn't act, no one was going to step in and act for her. Even the dumb robot, whose only purpose was to make her happy, understood that much.

“I missed you,” Kathleen whispered, as if by wishing hard enough Yuriko could hear her. “I missed you because I needed you. I wanted you. I … ”

Someone bumped into Kathleen, probably because she was standing in the middle of a crowded shrine muttering to herself. She turned, but the person didn't even notice. It was a woman, her arm around a man that was probably her boyfriend or husband. She looked up at him, like he was the only person in this whole shrine. His cheeks were flushed as he talked about something in excitement. Then they both laughed and she happened to look over her shoulder, to Kathleen.

It was Ai.

It was not Ai. She didn't look like Ai. Her hair was longer, a light brown. She was shorter, all her features more rounded and petite. Her eyes were brown, but when they looked at Kathleen, she recognized them. A PLC, a rare beta. The chances of Kathleen seeing one here must have been astronomical. Yet here they both were and the PLC was still staring at Kathleen, as if something in her programming knew her. The woman suddenly grinned, smile wider than Ai's had been, but filled with the same warmth. She turned it back to the man on her arm and for a moment, Kathleen felt insanely jealous.

She didn't want Ai back. She wasn't jealous that she didn't have a doting robot lover anymore. She was jealous because, this whole morning, Yuriko hadn't smiled at Kathleen like that.

Kathleen felt a surge of energy, so potent and powerful that she was running before she even knew where she was going. She had felt like this before, when she was first offered the job to come to Japan. Like something was exploding inside her, driving her forward with unstoppable force. That feeling brought her here, to this country where she had seen so much, learned so much. She wasn't the same person she had been in America. That had been her mistake, thinking like she was still there. Still lonely and lost. She wasn't lost anymore, but she was going to have to fight to not be lonely.

It was like swimming up a waterfall, getting out of Meiji shrine. As the morning wore on, it seemed thousands more people were lining up to come inside. There were paths laid out for people trying to exit, obviously less crowded than those trying to enter. The people there were slow, however, chatting with friends or taking pictures. Kathleen tried not to run them over, but she might have pushed a few of them in her haste.

Yuriko was probably already at the station. She might even be on a train leaving. Kathleen knew that if she didn't catch Yuriko at the station, she could obviously catch her at the apartment.

Kathleen had a feeling that if she didn't find her now, it wouldn't matter.

Kathleen was gasping as she entered the train station, heart beating painfully in her chest. She was suddenly grateful that she had traveled to Harajuku before with Yuriko, so she was somewhat familiar with the station. She ran past the ticket counter and the HELP kiosk, searching for outbound trains. Could Yuriko be on one of them?

One was at the station, the music chimed as it prepared to leave. Kathleen was fairly certain it was the one they had used to get here. Yuriko would probably have taken it, right?

Kathleen practically leapt through the doors as they were closing, causing them to buzz, while an automatic message berated her. Kathleen wasn't listening; she was looking around the train compartment as it started to move. There were only a few people here, scattered and staring at the crazed foreigner.

Yuriko was sitting just a few seats away, eyes wide.

The train car broke into the morning light, washing everything in bright yellow sun. Everything looked softer, and more delicate. Yuriko stood up.

“Kathleen? Is everything all right?” She looked concerned, probably because Kathleen felt like she would never breathe normally again. She might also be having a heart attack. Probably.

Kathleen tore off her scarf and unbuttoned the top of her jacket, needing to cool down. She even shoved her gloves in her pockets, feeling the fortune getting crushed.

“I'm pretty sure that Ai's program didn't fail entirely because of an internal conflict. It failed because of a human error. Because people can be really stupid. I'm really stupid.” She said it all in a rush, out of breath. She couldn't stop now. Not with Yuriko looking at her in a new dawn, all soft and bright. “I missed you because I've been an idiot. I've been an idiot because I've probably been in love with you since Nikko. Or maybe when I got sick and you brought me that awful healthy drink. Or maybe when you showed me how to use your bathtub. Or when you helped save Ai in Akihabara. Or maybe when I realized Ai looked exactly like you. Or maybe I fell in love with you all the way back when you saved me from being lost in Omiya station.” She gasped for air, drowning. “It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I've been an idiot and it took a goddamned love robot to make me realize that all I've wanted is you.”

Yuriko was silent. The whole train was silent. Everyone was still staring at Kathleen. Some of them might have even understood her. Most of them were probably disturbed that she just burst onto a train and then started shouting to one of the passengers. A man, who had been sitting across from Yuriko, silently stood up and moved away from them and out of the compartment.

Yuriko blinked, looking down, then back to Kathleen, then away again. “I … ah, wow.”

Kathleen realized she had been clenching her fists, nails digging into her palms. She tried to relax them; it didn't work. “A-and,” her voice was failing now, “if you don't feel the same anymore. Th-that's, well, I understand.” She tried to smile or laugh, but she just made a choking noise. “It would make us even, right? Shouting one-sided confessions in public.”

“It's not one-sided.” Yuriko ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends with her fingers, sighing heavily. “Believe me, I've tried. I've tried for three months now to get over you. Tried to convince myself with a hundred reasons why pining for you was ridiculous, futile. Then you just come bursting back into my life like … I don't even know, like a typhoon.” She looked up at Kathleen, eyes shining. “I just can't help but get swept up by you.”

Kathleen was shaking again, adrenaline and energy bursting through her. Yet she couldn't move, she didn't dare. “I'm sorry—”

Yuriko took a quick step forward and kissed her, cutting off her apology. Her hands were around Kathleen's head, holding her forcefully, but her lips were gentle and warm. Yuriko broke away. “Don't apologize. Please, just don't … ”

Kathleen reached up, wrapping her arms around Yuriko, gripping the fabric of her jacket with shaking hands. “Don't stop,” Kathleen whispered, knowing she was pleading.

Yuriko smiled then, slow and easy. It grew across her lips and cheeks like a flower opening up to the dawn. Just as bright, just as warm.

She knew the few people in the car were staring, possibly glaring. Kathleen honestly didn't care. Let them judge. Let them get up from their seats and move away because they were disgusted. It didn't matter. Because she and Yuriko were here now and had finally managed to collide.

Then they were kissing again. Kathleen recognized the feeling of losing herself in Yuriko's mouth, but she wasn't afraid anymore. She sank into that feeling, into Yuriko, wrapping herself in it,
relishing
in it. She was lost again, b she knew who would find her and bring her home.

Yuriko felt stunned, opening her apartment door. She remembered sitting in that
kotatsu
this morning, trying to convince herself that the earlier she left for Meiji shrine, the fewer people there might be. She had been warm there, toying with some sweets her mother had sent her. She planned to call her mother after the shrine visit then hibernate with the TV on until she had to go into work next week.

Then Kathleen had appeared, like she had risen from her bed because of a fire. She hadn't even had shoes on, and then … and then …