norwegian wood

Hajime, Mom's voice chimed from my unopened voicemails, we are so excited to see you next week! Oikawa told us all about what you two have planned. I didn't know you boys got back in touch. Anyway, your father and I cannot wait to see you. Have you been eating the vegetables I sent? Well, you should get some rest. You must be very busy. I didn't expect my son to be coming back home anytime soon. Well, I don't want to get too ahead of myself. We'll see you soon. Have a restful evening, okay? Don't sleep too late.

I held the telephone in my hands, staring blankly at it. Exhausted and sleep-deprived from my 11 PM shift, I replayed the voicemail one more time. My mother's voice filled my apartment. Then, just like that, it was gone again.

Ach, that goddamn Oikawa. What did he plan with my mother? What was he scheming this time? ARGH, he was well aware that I don't have all the free time in the world. Was he expecting me to call my boss and rearrange my whole work schedule...

Okay, breathe, breathe. Calm. Calm. Calm.

"Maybe, this is my chance to prove myself as a better son," I mumbled to no one as I dialed in Oikawa's number. "This is just a chance to be a better son," I whispered again, convincing myself of this made-up silver lining.

"IWA-CHAN!" his voice bursted from the other end of the line, erupting into my ears. "How sweet of you to call. Is this a nightly goodnight chat we'll be having from now on? How romantic would that be, right?"

"Shut up."

"And... he's back to normal. Okay, what's up?"

"Did you call my mother?"

"Yup."

"Telling her that we'll be back in Miyagi? Next week?" I wanted to yell at him, but my voice remained steady and calm.

"Yuuuuup." His jolly tone annoyed the shit out of me.

"Why didn't you call me before? I have work all week, and my relationship with my mother... Well, it hasn't been the smoothest. Why didn't you—"

Oikawa cut me off. "It had to be done. We're both homesick, Iwaizumi. Our parents miss us. C'mon, let your stubbornness go for once."

I groaned into the phone. "M'kay," I responded with sarcasm, "I guess I have to spend my nonexistent money on train tickets now... Poor me... I'll be starving for weeks."

"Oh, yes, about that. I already bought us two train tickets. I'll see you on Sunday. Shinkansen Station. 8 AM. Don't be late! Oh, and no need to worry about getting out of work. I talked to your boss today. I think we're friends now," his voice rang with that aggressive certainty. Oikawa always had his way of getting what he wanted. "Don't want to keep our poor mothers waiting!"

"Why are you like this?"

"Boo-hoo, whatcha gonna do? Cry because I'm bringing you back home with me? At least I'm not stuffing you into a suitcase... Hm, or will I!?"

"Hmph."

"Complain all you want, Iwa-Chan... but we both need some time away from Tokyo. You know that. I know that."

Maybe you're right, I wanted to say, but instead, I grumbled, "Fine. I'll see you soon, I suppose. God, I've forgotten how good you are at plotting things."

_____

Oikawa stood at the station. He wore a long coat, making him look older than he actually was. He caught my gaze, with that excited grin on his face, before I even recognized him. In the hustle and bustle of the Shinkansen Station, he looked more like a city man than anything else. It was as if he had outgrown his status as an athlete. He blended in with the sophisticated businessmen and fancy women, leaving town for important meetings and gatherings.

Somehow, eager fans spotted him anyway. They rushed to him, like a swarm of bees, demanding photos and autographs. Oikawa still loved it. Just like his post-game interviews, people swooned over every word that came out of his mouth. For all I knew, Oikawa could've been saying, "Y'all are buffoons", and these fans would still be fainting and moaning and collapsing in obsession.

If that were me, I'd be having a conniption.

I towered over the excited girls and schoolboys.

"Ready to go, Shitty-Kawa?" I yelled from the back of the crowd.

"Hey! No cursing in front of the young fans!" Oikawa had to push through pods of overzealous people to get to me. "Goodbye, everyone! You all mean so much to me! Have a good day now! My friend and I have a train to catch! Goodbye!" He shouted back at them as I pulled him away.

We found a bench by the tracks. Oikawa sat upright, patting down his coat and placing his leather luggage in-between our legs. I was slouched against my beat-up backpack. Sweatpants and a flannel shirt kept me warm. From the perspective of an outsider, we looked like two complete strangers: a celebrity and a beggar.

I rolled my eyes and nudged his arm. "You are the biggest attention-whore I've ever met."

"They're nice to me. Not many people are actually nice to me these days."

I stood up and leaned in. "What do you mean?"

"Eh, it's nothing," he brushed it off. "Look. Our train is here. Let's get good seats away from people, so we can eat our snacks."

"Did you bring snacks?"

"Your favorite. A whole bag of nori maki rice crackers. I remember how you would race to the market between class periods for these. Always late to chemistry... and practice. Coach would yell at you."

"Wow, you remember all that?" my face flushed. It was a peculiar warmth. He tossed me the bag of crackers. "I didn't realize your brain had the ability to memorize such specific details."

We hopped on the train.

"You're a big meanie, Iwa-Chan. Shut up and eat the damn crackers!" He commanded. I opened the bag. We settled in the very back. The train sped away from Tokyo. I munched on the crackers until I was full. Oikawa laughed. We gazed out the window, and at each other, until Tokyo slipped out of our perception. Then, we fell asleep to the sight of green fields.

_____

I woke up to Oikawa pressing his face against the window. He gripped the armrest while his other hand clutched a copy of Norwegian Wood. Outside, storm clouds covered the sky. The storm was so heavy that shades of asphalt gray had tinted the entire world. Raindrops raced one another, and I traced them like I did when I was a little kid.

"How'd you sleep?" His voice, airy and quiet. He must've woken up not too long before me. I could tell because he hadn't yet noticed his messy ruffle of post-nap hair.

I rubbed my eyes. "I'm groggy as fuck. How many stops do we have left?"

"Just one."

"Cool, and how did you sleep?"

"I couldn't fall asleep. The thunder kept me awake, but I think I like when it rains." Oikawa's lips curled into a sly smile. "Also, you were snoring like crazy. I may as well sleep with an alarm clock against my ear."

The train came to a slow and steady halt.

Next stop: Sendai Station. Please exit the train if this is your destination. The soft female voice echoed through the passenger cars. Tired travelers lowered their baggage and crowded around the door.

Just like that, I arrived back home. I stared out at the city we would visit as kids. Already, the skyscrapers no longer suffocated us as they do in Tokyo. The buildings did not hover over us like titans. They were approachable, friendly. Sendai might be the capital city of the Miyagi prefecture, but compared to the rapid everythingness of Tokyo, it was a town of humdrum monotony.

I clenched my fists, knuckles turning white. A tense tremble ran down my spine. This... this closeness to home—what was once home—sent me down a spiral of jittery thoughts.

"Take a deep breath, Iwa-Chan." He placed a hand on my back. "You know, I almost cried the first time I was back in Miyagi. It was horrible. It felt like I was in high school again."

I laughed, a bit sarcastically. "Okay, easy for you to say, oh-so-beloved Tōru. It must have been so hard being Aoba Johsai's picture-perfect student. Unlike you, I was a total loser."

"God, shut up. No you weren't."

"Yes, I was!"

"Sometimes, it feels as if you forgot that we actually knew each other very well in high school." He smiled. "Maybe even a bit too well."

"Hmph, whatever you say." Then, I registered the second half of his remark. "Wait, what do you mean by that?" What was that?

He ignored my question and pulled on my jacket sleeve. "C'mon, I see our mothers."

Oikawa raced toward his mom. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she was screaming and jumping up and down with so much excitement. I could've mistaken her for a fan. My mother, on the other hand, simply waved. I bent down and gave her a loose squeeze. She was never much of a hugger. Nonetheless, her eyes were glossy and contemplative.

I couldn't tell if she was upset at me for taking so long to visit her... or if she was relieved. Perhaps, she was just content to see me and Oikawa back in the Miyagi prefecture. The distance between us collapsed into a joyful sadness.

"Hajime, it took you so many vegetable boxes. Finally, you are back."

My mother appeared shorter than I remembered. Had I grown since moving to Tokyo? Unlike the tiger mom who loomed over me during my teenage years, she appeared fragile... almost vulnerable with her porcelain skin. Her hair was whiter than ever before. Her expressions were now shaped by a river of wrinkles, curving and sloping around her eyes.

I never noticed how much time had transpired between us and the life I left behind.

"Mama, I'm glad to be home."

In the car, Oikawa and I sat in the back seat as our mothers drove out of the city and into the rural suburbs of Miyagi. Oikawa finally passed out. His head fell onto my shoulders. A bit of his drool got on my shirt. I pretended to sleep while our mothers chatted about our childhood.

"Remember how the boys would stay up all night playing video games together?" My mother laughed. "I wonder what they'll have planned now. All grown up. Such young men."

"Oh, yes! Such sweet memories, and do you remember how they would cook for each other even as kids? I would take pictures from the upstairs room while they ate on the grass. It was so precious! You're right. They're all grown up now."

_____

By the end of the sixth story, told by Oikawa's mother—about the childhood allergies he made up to get out of school—we were back in my childhood home.

Oikawa's mom left to take care of his younger siblings. It was just me, my parents, and Oikawa. My father wrapped his arms around the both of us. Being friends with Oikawa's father, he always viewed him as a second son. He looked so happy, seeing us as friends again.

I could tell that Oikawa's wasn't intending on returning to his loud and unruly household. Not for this week, at least. Also, Oikawa discovered that his sister took his room after he moved out to Tokyo. "Classic."

"It's her room now, and there's nothing I could do about it," he joked, but I knew that his childhood home had changed for him just as much as it did for me. Our hometown became something entirely different from what we knew as kids. Through time and age, Oikawa's siblings still found a way to scheme for what they wanted, and this time, it was Oikawa's old room. I could see where they all got it from. Must be in their genes.

His little sister might not give up her new room, but I found out that our mothers already found a new solution. I stepped into my childhood bedroom and discovered that two mattresses were set next to each other.

Right away, Oikawa threw his bags onto my floor and jumped into my bed.

"We're sharing a room!?" we both exclaimed with polar demeanors. One excited. The other ready to rip his own hair out.

"Aren't you excited!? C'mon, it'll be like our middle school days! I knew this week was going to be fun, but I didn't realize it was going to be this fun," he sung in a childlike voice.

I took a deep sigh and glared at his stupid smile. "Well, it is what it is."