Meet me in Ōdōri Park

It is 10:15 am and Sayako is on her way for her early morning break. From Sapporo, Japan Sayako is temporarily residing in Yorkville over in the Bellair towers in Toronto. Yorkville bustles with the trendiest and most valuable fine dining and yet Sayako retreats on her three breaks a day to a modest top-level sushi shop named Sushi Inn. As she hangs her jacket walking in, she turns to sit on the far right bench of the restaurant. She looks around there are few patrons this morning, and the same two morning staff members that serve her. She smiles at both and as if it were clock work they embrace her with a steaming cup of green tea. She cups the tea to relieve her of the brief cold her hands felt walking over. Her eyes meet with a little black book sitting on the same bench huddled in the corner. Reaching over to grab the soft black book. Holding it under the table, she flips through about a quarter into the book and reads a sequence of entries which are diary entries and comments. 

Today is exceptionally harder. Mother’s breathing is softer and watching her body fade slowly is a remembrance of how fragile living and death is. I am full of questions and still they don’t matter. I am at a loss or what it all means. Eon keeps calling me about Kira and how much she is missing me, and so I feel pulled in all directions. I miss home. Mama misses you, but I miss my mama too...

Sayako scans further down. Directly below there is an entry in different handwriting. 

I am sorry to hear this, and it must not be easy. She is a beautiful person, and she is lucky to have such a caring daughter. I remember the stories she would tell of you. You look like her.

Sayako flips the page.

Hello… Thank you for your words. I left my book here by accident. It is nice to read that. Please tell me who you are.

I am a friend of your mothers.

Will you reveal yourself? 

It is good to see you, because when I look at you I see her.

As Sayako finishes her tea, she clears up the bill and leaves.

Going back home, she discharges the home care assistants to tend to other duties around the sky rise penthouse. Windows are to be cleaned, meals are to be cooked, and copious amounts of white sheets are to be washed. Sanitation is of highest priority for her immune compromised mother. As she sits and reads to her ailing mother, she cannot stop thinking about the little black book, and the mysterious commenter. Her mom can’t speak to her, and she hardly can even open her eyes, but Sayako has so many questions. As the day rolls on, it is now 3pm. Sayako walks over to her afternoon break at the Sushi Inn.

The staff has grown. It is busier. Again they serve her with a cup of green tea. Sayako looks around and some patrons are familiar and some new. Since her time here, the staff kept her table reserved for her comings every day. The little black book is still where she left it. Huddled in the edge of the enclosed bench.

That is fine. Tell me a story.

We would talk about travelling. She would tell me how much she wanted to see you back home. She wanted to sit in Ōdōri Park and have a picnic with you and your family. She was planning the trip and then she got ill. I put it aside and pushed the idea away many times, and I regret this. I should have acted faster.

Sir, please tell me who you are. Were you together?

I couldn’t go. I work here. I can’t bear it. I don’t have the means to give her the things she desired and deserved. She planned, and she wished so hard, but I was embarrassed, and now all I know is sorrow and cannot see her now.

As the days turned into weeks it remained gloomy. The air of death has settled. They cleaned the room where her mother was living. Sayako’s luggage was packed. The housekeepers handed her some farewell treats for the trip back home. Her bags put into the limo that waited to bring her to the airport. She stops before entering the car to glance over at the Sushi Inn. Tells the driver she will be back in 15 minutes and just wanted a last cup of green tea. It is the evening and the last time she will ever be here.

Entering inside it is quiet and yet after all these days her table was waiting for her with a reserved sign. As she was hanging her jacket, her eyes filled with sadness and pools of tears piled up. The tea comes, she swiftly cups the waiter's hands with hers and looks him in the eyes. His old face. His eyes hooded with age. His sweet face of sadness and his glistening eyes. Questioning what she was doing, she releases her hands from his, and he walks away. He must not be the one. She doesn’t even know.

There sitting waiting was the little black book.

As she sadly turns the pages to the continuation of where she last left off weeks ago. She reads the solo entries of the sad commenter, for he just continued to write.

How is your mother, please let me know, can you whisper to her “we will dance in the sunshine” she will understand. 

It has been a while since you have come. Are you ok?

It has been 16 days now. I am sad and I know you are too. I am sorry.

I wish I could have told you sooner. To tell her I love her. I am a fool. I let my stupid self stand in the way of being with a great person. I let my class hold me back and my shame. I have never loved someone like her. She was so kind; she was so beautiful. I will never forgive myself. I will dance in the sun for both of us. I just want you to know I have been saving my money all this time to take her. I wanted to surprise her. I will still go dance in Ōdōri park with her. For her. 

With tears flowing from Sayako’s eyes. She opens her purse. Takes out her chequebook and fills out the details. $20,000 and her signature. She writes shakingly in the book.

Please come to visit me in Japan. It will honour me to have you as a guest and we will have a picnic in Ōdōri Park where you can tell me all the stories about you and my mother. 

Sayako folds up the cheque and pushes it tightly in the binding of the little black book.