“I never thought we’d meet again,” he said. It was Ito Atsuo. Save for some strands of silver at his temples, he hadn’t changed much from his younger years, still handsome and sharp and agile in his white linen suit. Jade couldn’t find any words and felt as though she’d break down sobbing if she tried. Instead, she exerted all her strength to maintaining her steely gaze.
“You don’t have to cry because you’re so happy to see me,” Ito said lightheartedly, all the while noticing how thin and bony she’d become. Locks of limp hair escaped helplessly from her chignon and fell around her neck. A husk of the woman she’d been. “Well, what were you doing? Headed somewhere?”
Jade shook her head.
“Good. Come with me, I was about to go to dinner.”
It was a damp midsummer evening. The clouded twilight blindfolded the world in a soft gray haze. They made their way to a Japanese restaurant nearby, where the windows were fogged with condensation. Jade sat silently while Ito ordered more than enough food for four people. She didn’t understand how the restaurant still had anything to serve, though people like Ito evidently had no trouble keeping on as before. Seated across from him, Jade worked away on her grilled eggplant without further pretense or embarrassment. No matter how much she ate, she felt she could keep going. Only the onset of nausea forced her to reluctantly slow down; she was terrified of vomiting up the precious food.
“Do you know, it’s been twenty years since we first met. You were seventeen,” he said, taking spare bites of the fried fish. He held his elbow high, archly straining the shoulder of his fitted jacket, emanating a princely indifference to food even while eating with pleasure.
“I was a child. I didn’t know anything,” she replied, putting down her chopsticks.
“That’s true. An obstinate, arrogant little girl. You thought you were smarter than you really were. Like most pretty little girls.” He smirked, and Jade blushed. “But you were a fighter. That’s why you were different. You bit me once, do you remember? But life has taught you many things since then, I assume.”
“I’ve lost everyone I once loved or cared about.” Jade’s voice was breaking. “I don’t have anything left to fight for.”
“Ah. That doesn’t matter. You fight until you die—that’s what this is about.” Ito sipped on his cup of sake. “The war is going very badly. Truthfully I didn’t foresee this coming, but we’re going to lose. The Americans have all but wiped us out in the Pacific. But the Japanese army will keep fighting until the last remaining soldier is dead.”
“And you? You’re not afraid?”
“Afraid? No. What for? Every man has to die at some point. I have killed enough people to know that one day, my turn will come. But dying prematurely is the business of small men. And I have a plan.” He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “When Japan loses the war, Korea will gain its independence. And that would mean terrible things for the Japanese living here. I’m going back before that happens.” He poured himself another cup of sake.
“You’re going back to Tokyo? What about your mines?”
“No, Nagasaki, where my family is originally from. We have a beautiful mansion on the side of a mountain, overlooking the sea. I haven’t been back since my father passed away and it’s about time I returned. And the government took my mines a long time ago to pay for the war. Fortunately, by that point I’d already invested most of my cash in art and Koryo porcelains. I have acquired over a hundred pieces, each worth at least ten thousand won but some that are many, many times more. They’re worth more than the ores at this point, which had begun to run dry anyway. So that’s what I’m taking with me.”
He sat back in his booth, glancing contentedly at Jade and seeing not her, but his immaculate collection and his similarly immaculate plan. Then, as if remembering something he’d forgotten, he checked his gold-faced watch.
“It’s quarter after nine. I have somewhere to be,” he said, summoning the waiter and instructing him to pack the rest of the dishes still untouched on the table. “I’m on my way to the ChangGyeong Palace Zoo. That’s near your house—I could drop you off.”
“The zoo? Why? And so late at night,” Jade asked, carefully clutching the parcel of food in her arms.
“I’ll tell you in the car,” Ito said. His driver, wearing pristine white gloves, was waiting in the front seat, and Ito himself opened the door for Jade before getting in on the other side.
“Where do you still get oil? Not even the military can find it these days,” Jade wondered aloud.
Ito laughed. “In some ways, you’re still a child,” he said, patting her arm playfully. “I know you don’t like or trust me, but in the name of time—sheer time that we’ve known each other, just listen to me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Don’t trust anyone, don’t suffer unnecessarily, see the truth behind what people say, and always find a way to survive. That’s my advice.”
“Why do I have to survive?” Jade asked. “I feel like there’s no meaning to it. The world is crumbling down, it’s becoming a more evil and dark place every day, and I have no one.” She gestured at the muggy scene outside the window, devoid of any streetlamps, music, or moonlight, silence broken only by the rustling of damp leaves.
“You attach too much importance to other people,” Ito replied. They were both silent for a while, each unwilling to bend to the other.