Pachinko

“You should have more of the sea urchin. The chef had it brought for us from Hokkaido last night,” Hansu said. He enjoyed watching Noa, a poor student, eat these rare things that he himself consumed regularly.

Noa nodded in appreciation and finished his portion. He didn’t enjoy eating this way or even this kind of food. Noa knew how proper Japanese people behaved and could imitate their mannerisms faultlessly, so he ate whatever was put in front of him and was grateful. However, he preferred to eat a nourishing bowl of simple food quickly and be done with it. He ate the way most working Koreans did: Tasty food was merely necessary fuel, something to be eaten in a rush so you could return to your work. Well-off Japanese considered this sort of eating—high volume, strong flavors, and deliberate speed—nothing short of vulgar. In his benefactor’s presence, Noa aped the ruling-class Japanese, not wishing to disappoint Hansu, yet Noa was simply not interested in food or sitting still very long for a meal. Akiko teased him about this as well, but they did not go to luxurious restaurants, so it was of little consequence in their relationship.

Noa liked being with Hansu, but it was tedious watching another person drink while eating so little. Obviously, Hansu could drink a great deal and somehow manage a successful construction company, but Noa was suspicious of any form of drinking. As a little boy on his way to school, he used to have to step over grown men who were sleeping off their drunken binges from the night before. When he worked as a bookkeeper for the real estate company in Ikaino, he had seen many fathers unable to pay the rent, resulting in their families being thrown out of their homes—the trouble having started with a few harmless drinks on payday. And every winter, homeless alcoholic Koreans froze to death near the Sumida River, their bodies unaware of the deadly frost. Noa didn’t drink. Hansu could drink bottles of sake or soju without any visible effect, so in accordance with Korean tradition, Noa poured his elder’s drink, cup after cup, dragging the precious meal out even further.

As Noa was pouring the sake into the Oribe sake cup, the gentle knock on the paper screen door startled him.

“Enter,” Hansu said.

“Excuse me, Koh-san,” said the young waitress, who had no makeup on. She wore a simple indigo day kimono with a mushroom-colored obi.

“Yes?” Hansu said.

Noa smiled at the waitress, who looked and behaved like a well-mannered girl child.

“There is a lady who says she would like to say hello to you.”

“Really?” Hansu said. “To me?”

“Yes.” The waitress nodded.

“Very well,” Hansu said. Few people knew that he ate at this restaurant. It was possible that one of his boss’s secretaries was bringing a private message for him, but that was odd, because more commonly, young men from the company were sent on such errands. Hansu’s driver and bodyguard were outside the restaurant standing guard; they would have prevented anyone dangerous from reaching him. They would have examined her for certain.

The waitress closed the door, and in a few moments knocked again.

This time, Noa rose to his feet and opened the door himself. It felt good to stretch his legs.

“Akiko,” Noa said, his mouth momentarily agape.

“Hello,” she said, standing by the waitress, waiting to be invited in.

“Is this your friend, Noa?” Hansu asked, smiling at this gorgeous thing who looked Japanese.

“Yes.”

“Welcome. Please have a seat. You wanted to see me?”

“Noa thought I should stop by and say hello to his benefactor, so I came by at his insistence,” Akiko said, smiling.

“Yes,” Noa said, not sure why he was agreeing to this story but lacking an alternative narrative. “I should have mentioned that Akiko might be stopping by. I’m sorry if I took you by surprise.”

“Not at all. I’m very happy to meet a friend of Noa. You must join us for lunch.”

Hansu looked up at the waitress, who was still standing by the door.

“Please bring another setting and a sake cup for Noa’s friend,” Hansu said, feeling both curious and pleased that the boy would want him to meet his girlfriend. He wanted to welcome her.

Immediately, a place setting and a wine cup appeared before her. The chef himself brought them a dish of fried oysters sprinkled with transparent flakes of English salt. Noa poured Hansu a cup of wine, then Hansu poured a cup for Akiko.

“To new friends,” Hansu said, raising his cup.





19



The young couple remained standing by the restaurant door as Hansu got into his car. Akiko and Noa bowed deep from the waist in the direction of the rear passenger seat, where Hansu was seated. The chauffeur closed the passenger door, bowed to the couple, then got behind the wheel to take Hansu to his next meeting.

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