“Like you. Korean men are really good-looking.”
Noa smiled. What could he say to this? Of course, not all Korean men were good-looking, and not all Korean men were bad-looking, either. They were just men. Akiko liked to make positive generalizations about Koreans and other foreigners. She reserved her harshest words for well-off Japanese.
Akiko put down her teacup and pushed him down on the futon playfully, and Noa fell on his back. She straddled him and removed her shirt. She wore a white cotton bra and panties. She looked so beautiful, he thought. Her black hair fell like glossy, iridescent feathers around her face.
“Is he like you?” She rubbed against him.
“No, no. We’re very different.” Noa exhaled and removed her gently from his hips, puzzled himself by his answer. “I mean, I don’t know. He’s a generous man. I told you before: He doesn’t have a son, and his daughters don’t want to go to university, so he has been supporting me. I intend to pay him back. He’s helped my family in difficult times. He’s my benefactor; that’s all.”
“Why do you have to pay him back? Isn’t he loaded?”
“I don’t know.” Noa went to get his socks from the dresser. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a debt. I will pay him back.”
“Don’t you want to stay with me?” Akiko removed her brassiere to reveal her champagne glass–sized tits.
“You are tempting me, my beauty,” he said. “But I must get going. I will see you tomorrow, nee?”
There was absolutely no time to have sex again, he told himself, even if he could get another erection, which he doubted.
“Can’t I come and meet him, Noa-chan? When will I meet your family?”
“He’s not my family, and I don’t know. I haven’t met yours, either.”
“You don’t want to meet Mother and Father. They are racists,” she said. “Honto desu.”
“Oh,” Noa said. “I will see you tomorrow. Lock up, please.”
The sushi-ya was less than a mile away from his place. The interior was recently repaneled in fresh cedar, and the walls gave off the faint scent of clean, new wood. Hansu preferred to meet Noa here each month in the private room in the back. No one ever disturbed them except to bring them course after course of exceptional delicacies, brought in from various remote fishing villages in Japan.
Normally, the two men talked about his classes, because Hansu was curious about what it was like to attend such a wondrous and fabled university. He had never attended secondary school or university. Hansu had taught himself both how to read and write Korean and Japanese from books, and as soon as he could afford it, Hansu had hired tutors to learn the kanji and hanja necessary to read difficult Japanese and Korean newspapers. He knew many rich men, strong men, and brave men, yet he was most impressed with educated men who could write well. He sought friendships with great journalists, because he admired their well-composed thoughts and points of view on the issues of the day. Hansu did not believe in nationalism, religion, or even love, but he trusted in education. Above all, he believed that a man must learn constantly. He loathed waste of any kind, and when all three of his daughters forsook school for baubles and gossip, he grew to despise his wife, who had allowed this to happen. The girls had good minds and unlimited resources, and she had let them throw these things away like garbage. The girls were lost to him, but he now had Noa. It thrilled him that Noa could read and write English so beautifully—a language he knew was essential in the world. Noa had recommended books to him, and Hansu had read them, because he wanted to know the things his son knew.
The young man’s extraordinary scholarship was something Hansu knew he had to nurture. Hansu was not sure what he wanted Noa to do when he graduated; he was careful not to say too much, because it was clear that Noa had some of his own ideas. Hansu wanted to back him, the way he wanted to back good business plans.
The two sat cross-legged on the pristine tatami floor with a low acacia wood table between them.