Saiyuu no Ryokou: The Continuing Adventures of Yuriko
The Story So Far: After a relaxing evening with the family, Yuriko has been awakened
unbearably early to receive a "surprise" from Midori.
Volume 2, Issue 17
"Trail of Tears"
Yuriko grumbled loudly at the idea of a long pre-dawn walk, but she dutifully dressed.
The two women left the house quietly. Midori led the way out of the house, armed with a
flashlight, while Yuriko got the job of carrying a canvas satchel.
The night was still and damp, with a heavy mist under the pine trees. Midori set out on
a path that ran past the pond and up into the woods above the house. As they passed the
stand of pines, the two women paused for a moment in honor of a grieving girl's
ghost, then moved on.
The sky was leaden. The grassy path gave way to low forest undergrowth. Midori lead the
way up a hill, which steadily steepened until both women were panting. The undergrowth
faded and pebbles rolled under their feet as they climbed. Yuriko would have asked where
they were going, except that by now, she was using her free hand to steady herself and
there wasn't much breath left in her for speech. She decided not to think about how
she was climbing this mountain in the dark it was safer not to.
They walked for a solid 30 minutes, until Midori stopped suddenly and stared up. Yuriko
followed Midori's line of sight and found herself gazing up a sheer rock face that
towered over them.
"You're not suggesting we climb that?" Yuriko's voice cracked.
Midori whirled in place, her hair swinging behind her heavily. "No, no!" she
laughed, holding her hands up. "I was just thinking. Here," she gestured to the
bag, which Yuriko held out to her. The writer pulled out a cloth and handed it to the
singer. "Let's make ourselves comfortable."
***
Yuriko spread the cloth at the base of the rock face, while Midori pulled tea and
leaf-wrapped rice balls from the satchel.
"I met Akira in the museum," Midori stated somewhat suddenly, after they had
both seated themselves. The writer sat stiffly, clutching a thermos of tea tightly in her
hands. Yuriko sensed that this would be a long story, and settled her back against the
cold rock wall.
"He was standing in front of the some Edo period woodblocks, you know, second-rank
bijinga. I commented on them, saying that they weren't very good and he
agreed." She turned to face Yuriko, "At the time our local museum had not yet
felt Aoi's bit and bridle and it was totally provincial. There was nothing on display
that had any personality at all. I have to hand it to Aoi, she's really made strides
in that area." Midori bit down on her own digression, then continued in a low voice.
"He and I would meet for lunch and take walks together, you know the usual.
All the while, I was suffering inside, making myself crazy at school with desire and fear
and loneliness over a passion I was powerless to do anything about. I was making myself
sick and I knew it, but didn't know what to do about it. Akira became a kind of
refuge for me a quiet place in the middle of my personal storm. He was a good
listener and of course, I liked to tell stories. He encouraged me to write," she
stared out into the darkness that surrounded them and sighed.
"I thought I loved him I was sure that he loved me. He was kind and he
never asked more of me than I was willing to give. I suppose, in retrospect, that that
alone shouldn't have been such a motivating factor." Her laugh had no humor in
it. "Compared to the nightmare I was living at school, being with Akira was like
sleeping peacefully.
"So naturally, when he asked me to marry him, I said yes. The fact that I lay in
bed every night dreaming of Sumire-sensei, not Akira, never really made an impression on
me. I think I didn't think it was real...or something."
Yuriko reached out and took one of Midori's hands from the thermos, cradling it in
her own. She tugged gently on Midori's arm, pulling the writer into the crook of her
shoulder. Midori held herself stiffly for a long moment, then relaxed into Yuriko's
embrace.
"It wasn't long before we realized we had made a terrible mistake. I
wasn't what Akira wanted a partner who would raise his children and nurture
his dreams, writing after the children were in bed, or while they were at school. Akira
didn't understand me at all to be fair, at the time, neither did I, very well.
I couldn't really be attracted to him. When we slept together, I let my brain wander
off...or fantasized about Sumire-sensei, something that I'm still ashamed to think
about. He could sense my distance and dissatisfaction, but blamed himself and his
inexperience.
"We started to fight over little things...we'd go to bed angry, so we
wouldn't have to have sex. Akira stayed out later and later with friends and
coworkers, I stayed at home drinking, writing...anything but dealing with the problem.
Neither of us was willing to confront the other, or willing to admit failure.
"About a year into our marriage I went off to a conference for young writers. My
first book was being published and my agent thought it would be good for me. All I knew
was that it was a long weekend away from home and I jumped at the chance. At dinner that
night," Midori paused, closing her eyes in thought. "At dinner that night, I was
seated next to a dark, beautiful Russian woman named Tatiana Vilorski. She was older than
I was, and drank more heavily than anyone I'd ever met. She was gracious and funny
and..."
"And?" Yuriko prompted after the silence had lengthened just long enough for
dramatic effect.
"And we slept together that night and every other night of the conference."
Midori shifted, embarrassed at the memory.
"Was she any good?" Yuriko asked quietly.
"She was...yes," Midori answered, just as quietly,
"Thank you gods," Yuriko breathed softly into the dark. "If she
hadn't been, you might have stayed with your husband and I'd never have met
you."
Midori's shoulders stiffened. With a short laugh, she relaxed once more. "I
never thought of it that way." She laughed again, this time more lightly, then
snuggled back into Yuriko's arms. "So, yes, she was good, and smart, and funny
and..."
"And this part had better have an end soon, or I'll start to get
jealous." Yuriko could feel Midori's smirk more than see it.
"And," the writer continued, "she was a way out. When she left Tokyo, I
followed her."
"Just like that?" Yuriko could make out the general shapes of the trees that
surrounded them, against the vaguely lightening sky. Dawn was coming.
"Just like that," Midori confirmed. "I followed her to St. Petersburg,
where we lived in a one-room apartment over a laundry."
"What about Akira? Or your family?"
"Ah, you see, that was the point. You've met everyone now you can see
the problem, can't you? You can see what they're all like. Everyone is funny,
unfairly talented, intelligent...but it was never enough."
Midori shook herself free of Yuriko and stood. She began to pace as she spoke. "I
love my parents, but as parents, they were rarely around. Father had the business and
Aoi...is Aoi." Her voice was faintly bitter. "Gin and Natsumi were the ones who
took care of us, mostly. Father and Aoi only really took notice of us when we did
something of note. Being funny or talented or a good student or creative was so average in
my family that the only way to get attention was to be outrageously exceptional in one
way...or another. Win an award, go to jail, run away from home it didn't
matter. Anything other than the norm and Aoi might just notice that you'd become
pregnant at sixteen, or won a national award. Or Father might congratulate you for, oh, I
don't know, figuring out a Unified Theory of Physics." Midori's voice was
thick with resentment,
"So you ran away to Russia," Yuriko said.
"So I ran away to Russia." Midori echoed.
Continued
Saiyuu no Ryokou, all characters and situations copyright E. Friedman and Yurikon LLC. All Rights Reserved.