Planet: Chapter 2 - part 3

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Yesterday, when it was still light out, I heard the sound of an ambulance close by. The siren went on and on, so I went out to the balcony and looked down—it was right under the apartment. Someone got into the ambulance, and then it drove off, its siren fading into the distance. The sky was so clear, I’d have to search to even find a cloud.

Later, while I was having dinner, a thought popped into my mind. I wondered if that person was okay. I hope they didn’t… die. After I finished eating, Kan-san didn’t go behind the rust-colored curtain like he usually does. Instead, he wiped down the table and set down a slice of wood. He bent over it, his back rounded like a curled-up cat, and brought his face close to the dark wood.

A silvery chisel with a rounded handle moved across the black surface of the wood. Smoothly, the black surface peeled away, revealing the wood’s color beneath. Fine lines, thick lines, little dots here and there. Then the wood itself shifted in his hands, forming round shapes. It was fascinating. More and more was scraped away, and soon, a universe seemed to emerge from within the black. Ah, maybe this is how space is created.

Kan-san’s hand stopped carving, and he looked up, his face turning toward me.

“Is this interesting to watch?”

“Yes.”

“What’s interesting about it?”

“Because a universe is forming.”

Kan-san murmured a quiet “Huh,” then continued carving away at the wood. His hand paused again, and he stared at the dark surface for a while before he gave a big yawn. “Even changing my setup isn’t helping me focus,” he said, putting down the chisel and brushing the wood shavings from around the table into the trash. He’s cleaning up now, so maybe he’s done.

I wonder if he’s still looking my way.

“Mura-san, would you like to try carving something too?”

“Carving?”

“Thought you might be interested in printmaking.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Didn’t you ever carve a potato stamp or something like that in elementary art class?”

“I don’t remember.”

“A simple stamp made with an eraser would be easy. I have the tools for it.”

After saying that, he suddenly let out a loud “Ah!” that startled me.

“Oh, by the way, are your hands still sore?”

“My hands don’t hurt anymore. My leg does.”

My leg only hurts when I put weight on it; as long as I’m walking on my knees, it’s fine. But if I stand and place my foot on the floor, a dull pain seeps in.

“On second thought, I really think you should see a doctor for that leg. A bandage can only do so much.”

“I’m not going to the hospital.”

Kan-san let out a big sigh, as if exasperated, muttering, “You don’t seem to have an insurance card either, so I won’t push it.” I don’t like that feeling—like he’s disappointed in me. Maybe I should make this stamp after all. Would that make Kan-san feel better?

“I’ll make a stamp.”

“Want to try it now?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Kan-san went behind the rust-colored curtain and returned with a box. Inside were a big, postcard-sized eraser, a small-bladed cutter, thin paper, and a pencil. One side of the large eraser was dyed blue, and from the side, it looked like a flat slice of kamaboko (fish cake).

Kan-san picked up a thin piece of paper, which made a crinkling sound.

“First, draw a picture on this with a pencil, then transfer it to the eraser, and carve along the lines with the cutter.”

I wonder what “transfer” means. He placed the thin paper and pencil in front of me.

“A simple shape might be easier for a beginner.”

I guess I’m supposed to draw on this thin sheet of paper. I never did well in art class and struggled to keep up with the others. Even when he says to draw, I’m not sure where to start. My pencil just sits on the flimsy paper, unmoving.

“I have some templates if you’d like,” Kan-san offered, showing me a piece of paper about the size of a notebook with simple drawings of flowers, cars, and cats.

“These are from a handmade stamp workshop I helped with at the stationery store I work at. The participants were kids, so the designs are pretty simple.”

He talked on and on, then placed the thin paper over the drawing sheet, making the outline visible underneath.

“Just trace whatever you like with the pencil.”

Tracing seemed doable, so I gave it a try. I started with the cat, but the pencil tip kept wobbling. When I lifted the paper, the lines didn’t match the original drawing. I don’t know why, but mine didn’t look like a cat. Maybe cats are too hard, so I tried a bird, but it came out wobbly and snake-like. When I tried erasing with a small rubber eraser, the thin paper tore with a rip.

"Ah… ah…"

I tore it. What should I do? I’m going to get in trouble. As I tried to press the torn part back together with my fingers, Kan-san said, “You can just use another section,” and cut away the torn part. I felt a wave of relief knowing I could still use the paper. Looking for something simpler, I spotted a star design. Maybe this one would work. Carefully, I traced the lines, and this time, it came out almost exactly like the drawing underneath. Yes!

“Oh, that’s nice,” he said, making me happy. Pressing the star onto the blue eraser, I rubbed it down with my fingernail. The pencil lines transferred perfectly, leaving a faint star shape in the blue. Kan-san then showed me how to cut the eraser, shaping it around the star. “Now, just carve away the parts without the pencil,” he explained.

Kan-san demonstrated by trimming the blue eraser around the star, revealing the white underneath. It looked easy enough. I should be able to do this too. Following his instructions, I traced around the star with the cutter, pressing down and twisting my hand slightly to gouge out the excess. I shaved off one corner of the eraser.

“You only need to carve enough around the star so that the ink doesn’t reach it,” he explained. “You don’t have to cut it exactly into the star’s shape.”

Though he said that, I wasn’t really sure how much was enough to keep the ink off. So, I kept pressing down around the edges, just like before.

“…Well, just go with what feels right,” he said.

Guiding the cutter along the pencil lines, I tried to keep it steady, but the star’s points came out uneven, some thinner, some thicker. I trimmed off the extra bits. It didn’t look exactly like the original drawing, but it was done. Excited, I lifted the cutter, only to feel a sudden prick on my other finger.

Did I cut myself? It didn’t hurt much, so I thought it was fine—until a small bead of blood welled up from my fingertip. Ah, I really did cut it after all. The blood swelled and dropped onto the table with a small plop.

“Oh no, did you cut yourself?” Kan-san reached for a tissue and handed it to me. As I wiped the table, another spot of blood spattered out. I was at a loss until Kan-san grabbed a fresh tissue and pressed it firmly against my bleeding finger. …Ah, so this is how you stop the bleeding. My finger, wrapped in tissue, was warm and snug in his grip.

“I figured this might happen,” he said, softly peeling back the tissue. Blood was still seeping out. “Hold it like this yourself,” he instructed, and this time, I held it myself while he rummaged through a drawer under the TV stand.

“Alright, let go,” he said, tapping my hand gently with his fingertip. I let go, and the tissue dropped, revealing the cut, still tinged with blood. Kan-san placed a bandage over it. He’s so kind.

“Sorry about this,” he murmured, still holding my hand.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Well, I encouraged you to try carving, and now you got hurt.”

The cut was small, and it’d heal with a bit of spit. Kan-san, gently touching my finger, commented with a slight chuckle, “Your hand’s softer than I expected.”

“I enjoyed carving.”

At this, Kan-san’s hand stilled and then pulled back slightly.

“Do you want to try stamping with it?” he asked, bringing over a sheet of white paper and a red ink pad. Oh, that’s right—a stamp is meant to be stamped. I pressed my new stamp into the ink pad, grinding it in a bit.

“You don’t need to press down so hard. Just a light tap will pick up enough ink,” he advised.

I followed his suggestion, lightly tapping the stamp before pressing it onto the paper. A red star appeared, some points a bit too thick or thin, but still recognizable as a star. A red star. Tap-tap for more ink, then press. Some points chipped off, which was disappointing. Tap and press. This was fun. Tap and press. Red stars filled the page, overlapping until they blurred together, losing their shapes. I moved to a blank spot. Tap, tap, tap.

When there was no white space left, I stopped. Both hands—both the one holding the stamp and the other—were red with ink. At some point, I’d gotten it everywhere. Kan-san was watching, staring at the paper covered in red stars that I’d stamped over and over.

"When you were stamping, what were you thinking about?"

"It was fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah, stamping it was really fun."

Kan-san laughed, a short, “Haha.”

“You were having fun, huh? At first, I was watching you thinking, ‘Don’t stamp too much,’ but halfway through, I started to get this strange, almost eerie feeling from how intensely you were into it.”

I nodded, and Kan-san laughed again. He looked like he was having fun, too. That was good.

"Murata-san, this piece you made—it has real character. I think it’s great."

"I’ll give it to you."

Kan-san looked over at me, surprised. "What?"

"I’ll give it to you, Kan-san."

Holding the paper full of stamped stars, Kan-san thanked me, saying, “Oh, thank you.” The star paper I gave him ended up framed and displayed in the room behind the curtain. Seeing my work in a frame made it look so polished, and I felt really proud. Yeah.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Kan-san came back, but there was no bento. I started worrying, wondering if he didn’t have the money to get one, when he said, “Tonight, we’re having nabe.”

Kan-san placed a portable gas stove on the table. Sometimes I’ve seen old men on the street with these, but I never got one since I don’t really know how to use it. He set a gold-colored pot on top, poured in a broth that looked like somen sauce, then added chopped vegetables and meat with a big splash, before putting the lid on.

“I’ve been on a rotation of bentos and cup ramen for ages now, and I figured I wasn’t getting enough vegetables. It’s getting a little chilly, so nabe seemed perfect.”

“Bentos and cup ramen taste good,” I said.

“I think so too, but nutrition’s a different thing. You’ve got to eat some vegetables too, you know?”

Vegetables, huh… I think someone once told me to eat more vegetables. Who was it? Maybe my dad… yeah, it was probably my dad.

From under the lid, a soft gurgling sound started, and the delicious aroma filled the air. I know this smell. I’ve smelled it before—where was it? Ah, I remember. It was at the soup kitchen at the park. Kan-san lifted the lid, and a cloud of white steam burst out, making it hard to see.

“Nabe is a bit much to tackle on your own, but…”

Kan-san placed a deep dish in front of me.

“With two people, it’s a little more doable.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Through the steam, Kan-san’s face seemed to waver.

“Your gaze is kind of unique, Mura-san.”

He must mean my eyes.

“My eyes?”

“Well, sure, we could say that. You don’t look at people’s faces when you talk to them, and even though it seems like you’re not looking at anything, it also feels like you see through everything.”

Isn’t it okay to look wherever when talking to someone? How can I be looking at nothing and everything at the same time?

“You’re pretty straightforward, Mura-san, so maybe it’s just part of a deeper truth.”

I didn’t understand what he meant, but I knew he was talking about me. So, I thought I’d talk about him too.

“Kan-san, you’re kind.”

He looked down, muttering, “No,” and I thought I saw a bit of red on the side of his ear. But then he looked up and faced me.

“What’s your measure of kindness, Mura-san?”

When I stayed silent, trying to figure out what he meant by “measure,” he clarified, “I mean, the reason why you think someone is kind.”

“They’re a person who’s considerate,” I answered.

“Is that so…” he replied in a small voice.

“What if that kindness is just superficial?” he asked.

Superficial… wasn’t that a word for something fake? Oh, right, it’s used for people who lie.

“Well, I don’t like people like that.”

“Yeah, I suppose no one does.”

“People who lie are no good. I don’t like them either. Those kinds of people just disappear.”

“Disappear?”

“They quit when they can’t handle it anymore and just stop showing up without a word. Everyone just says, ‘That guy bailed.’”

“Ah, so that’s how it goes in your line of work,” he said, poking a piece of radish in the nabe with his chopsticks. The chopsticks slid through easily.

“It’s probably ready. Let me dish it out—can you hand me your plate?”

Kan-san reached out, and when I passed him my dish, he scooped some food with a ladle and handed it back, like in a cafeteria where they serve your food for you.

“Thank you,” I said, blowing on the food to cool it down. I wanted to eat it quickly, but if I didn’t cool it off, it would burn my mouth.

Just then, there was a light knock from the entrance. “Wonder who that is,” Kan-san muttered as he got up.

“I didn’t order anything online…” he murmured as he walked to the door. I heard him ask, “Yes, who is it?”

“Hey, it’s me!” a high-pitched voice called from the other side of the door.

“Wait… Miyaguchi?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Kan-san opened the door, and with a loud “Long time no see!” someone stepped inside—a guy with long hair.

“Hey, sorry to barge in, but could I crash here for the night?”

“…That’s sudden. Well, sure.”

The guy with long hair looked over at me.

“Oh, you have company. Hey there!” he greeted me, so I nodded, “Hello,” and lowered my head. It’s important to be polite. The long-haired guy approached the table, peering down into the nabe.

“Whoa, that looks delicious!”

"You want some too?" Kan-san asked, and the long-haired guy eagerly replied, “Yeah, yeah, I’m starving!” He plopped down between me and Kan-san. The table was already packed with the portable stove and nabe, so he set his rice bowl on the floor. “Three people means we’re a bit short. I’ll add some more,” Kan-san said, heading to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

“Sorry for dropping in all of a sudden.” The long-haired guy apologized to me, looking a little sheepish.

“Are you a coworker of Kan-chan’s?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Kan-san’s job was something like working at a register. He leaves in the morning and comes back at night.

“Not a coworker? You two don’t look close enough in age to be just friends.”

I nodded. “Right.”

“So, what line of work are you in?”

“Construction,” I replied.

“Ah, labor work. So you must get pretty hungry then.”

“Right… or, no.” I don’t actually work much since my leg hurts, so I’m not usually very hungry. I thought about explaining, but before I could decide, Kan-san returned. He served the vegetables from the nabe into our bowls, then added fresh ones to the empty pot and replaced the lid.

I heard Kan-san calling this long-haired guy “Miyaguchi,” so I guess he’s Miyaguchi-san. I remember there used to be a nice guy named Miyachi at my old job.

Miyaguchi-san talks fast. He says so much so quickly that I can’t keep up. There are people like him at worksites, too. Kan-san usually speaks slowly, but whenever he talks to Miyaguchi-san, he speeds up too, making it hard for me to follow. The two of them kept chatting, not asking me anything, which was a relief.

I finished all the vegetables Kan-san had served and the microwaved rice. I was full. Vegetables taste good. Bento is good too, but this is nice in its own way.

“Thanks for the meal,” I said, and the two of them turned to look at me. I wondered why they were looking—it felt weird. Then, I crawled over to my sleeping bag and lay down.

“Going to sleep, Mura-san?” Kan-san asked.

It was earlier than usual, but I was full, comfortable, and drowsy.

“If we’re too loud, feel free to use the atelier to sleep.”

“I’m fine.” Even if the TV next door is noisy, I can still sleep. My stomach was warm, like after eating hot soup from the soup kitchen. I felt content, and my eyelids got heavy. Before I knew it, everything faded to black.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

I woke up. There was a tightness in my lower abdomen. I really needed to pee. It was completely dark around me—it must be nighttime. I stood up and walked over. My leg still hurt a little, but it was manageable enough to walk on now. When I came out of the bathroom and started heading back to my sleeping bag, a gentle breeze came through. I could smell cigarettes. The balcony window was open just a crack. Maybe someone was smoking outside. I quietly moved closer. When I opened the window, the long-haired guy jumped in surprise.

"Sorry," I apologized, but he just waved his hand holding the cigarette, saying, “Ah, no worries.” I commented, "Cigarettes are nice," and he offered, “Want one?” The long-haired guy is a kind person. Oh, what was his name again?

“Thank you,” I said, dragging my leg as I stepped out onto the balcony. It was bright outside. The moon was round and glowing. I could see my shadow. It felt like those times I used to sleep outside. It hasn’t even been that long, but it’s somehow nostalgic. I sat down beside the long-haired guy, taking a cigarette and lighting it up. It’s been a while since I smoked, and the taste filled my head like smoke. Cigarettes really are the best.

“You look like you’re enjoying that,” he said.

“I like cigarettes.”

The long-haired guy took a slow, quiet drag and said, “Kan-chan, he hasn’t changed a bit.”

"Really?" I replied, sensing that he was talking to me.

“Back when we were in school, Kan-chan’s room was always the hangout spot for everyone. There was even a guy who got kicked out of his apartment and stayed at Kan-chan’s place for half a year. Kan-chan’s the type who doesn’t mind having other people around. I’d call him easygoing, or maybe carefree.”

The long-haired guy tapped the ashes off his cigarette into a plate, saying Kan-san is good-natured like that. I couldn’t catch everything he was saying, but I could tell he was talking about Kan-san.

“I’m actually getting married next month.”

Married, huh… I wonder how you even get married to a woman. The ladies at the reception and the cafeteria at work are all married already. I’d like to be close to someone, like how my dad and mom were. But before I could ask them how, they went back to our star. Oh, that’s right—I’ll just ask them when I go back.

“Also, Kan-chan used to be my ex,” the long-haired guy said.

I glanced at him. He’s a kind person, so maybe he won’t get mad if I ask.

“What’s an ex?” I asked.

The long-haired guy stayed silent for a while, then apologized in a stiff voice. “Forget what I just said. Really, I’m sorry.”

I didn’t understand why he was apologizing, but I just said, “Alright.”

This cigarette is really good. The hotpot was good too, and the long-haired guy is a nice person for sharing his cigarettes. There’s nothing bad about Kan-san’s place. It feels just like being back home with my mom and dad. I don’t remember much, but back then, the only thing I disliked was going to school. Once I stopped going, that feeling went away too. There are still people I don’t like now, but I just stay away from them.

“This is a nice day,” I said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. The smoke drifted through the darkness.

“A really good day.”

The long-haired guy fell silent. The cigarette smoke slowly rose into the air. “I’ll head back in first. Later,” he said as he went inside. I stayed outside until I finished my cigarette. It was a little cold, but it felt good.

If I stay here at Kan-san’s place, maybe I’ll feel this comfortable forever. I’d like to stay here until it’s time for me to go. But I’ll have to leave once my leg heals. If it doesn’t heal, though, I wonder if I could stay. But then I’d rack up a lot of debt that I wouldn’t be able to repay.

Kan-san is a good person, so I shouldn’t be a burden to him. Once my leg heals, I need to get back to work. I wonder if my star is as comfortable as this. But right now, I feel at ease too. When I think about my dad and mom eating convenience store bento together back on our star, I get a warm feeling in my stomach. That’d be nice. I hope I can have bento with them soon, too.

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