Excerpt from Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Thus, knowing Kobayashi, I knew he could not have failed to notice that, over the last year or so, I had gradually grown more reserved. And once I started giving up my lunch breaks to make the rounds of realtors, it must have been increasingly obvious how my life had changed. But even when I informed him of my new address, I couldn't bring myself to say anything about the situation with Fujino. I cringed at the reminder of how thoroughly I'd once congratulated myself.

As I took the receiver, then, I cursed Fujino: Why the hell did he have to phone me here? What did he expect me to say, with Koba yashi listening? I'd been persuading myself that, from now on, we would talk things over calmly, and if, by any chance, this meant we could live together again, that would be best. But now, caught unprepared, I tensed, determined to blame it all on Fujino: This wasn't the time and place. It would wreck everything. Look what you've gone and done.

'It's been a while,' he said. 'How are you, how's our little girl, how are you finding the new apartment, it's about time we got together, come on, say something, ah, there's someone there, isn't there, well, OK, but still, you could say something, it's your husband calling, what's wrong with being heard? Hello, are you there? You could at least say yes. Is that too much to ask?'

After letting him run out of words, I said tightly, 'Why are you calling?'

'Huh! So I'm not allowed to phone you unless it's on business?'

'No ... Goodbye ...'

I hung up. Unable to face Kobayashi, I munched on my sandwich with eyes downcast. When I finally glanced up at him, over the milk I was drinking, he was buried in the newspaper, hamburger in hand. Fujino didn't call back, perhaps not wanting to pursue this at my workplace. But knowing how angry he must be, I was aghast at what I'd done and couldn't help regretting it. My legs shook, the back of my throat ached. It was me, not Fujino, who had wrecked everything. It was surely hopeless now.

As I stood up, twisting the empty milk carton and paper bag in both hands, Kobayashi said, 'Could you get me a cup of tea, if you wouldn't mind? I've got a thirst today.' I lifted my head at last and answered with the brightest 'Yes' I could manage.

I went into the kitchenette behind a partition and made two cups of green tea with care. My legs were still shaky. I was just about at Kobayashi's desk when I teetered, though there was nothing to trip me, and both cups were sent flying off the tray. Mine didn't break when it hit the floor; Kobayashi's large cup did.Murmuring 'Oh dear, I'm sorry ... I'm sorry,' I crouched and picked up the pieces. The cup had split almost cleanly in two.

I heard Kobayashi's voice above my head.

'You'll cut yourself if you're not careful. You should mop it up with a cloth.'

'Oh, yes, sorry. I'll, er, I'll be right back.'

I ran half-stooping to the kitchenette, not taking the time to straighten up. I grabbed a cloth, returned to the spot in front of Kobayashi, kneeled, and pressed the cloth to the steaming floor. The liquid's heat reached my palm at once.

'Your cup is tougher than it looks, isn't it?'

When I raised my head, Kobayashi was comparing my cup, which he had in his hand, with the pieces of his own lying on the desk, where I must have tossed them a moment earlier.'... I'm sorry.'
'Don't worry. It was only a free giveaway at a sushi bar, anyway.'

'Yes ...'

The heat in the cloth was rapidly dissipating. I suddenly remembered that morning's events and asked Kobayashi, 'Er ... Could a little spill like this leak through to the floor below?''I'd be very surprised. If this much could leak through, no one could live in a high-rise,' he answered, to my relief, giving a rare laugh.
'Yes, of course.' I laughed in turn and stared at the still-damp linoleum. I slid the cloth over it. Tears sprang to my eyes. I wiped them surreptitiously with my left hand as I kept mopping up, taking my time.Before long, Kobayashi went to the toilet. While he was gone, I cleared the cloth and the broken china away, then started preparing new loan cards. The lunch hour was already over.

Copyright © 1979, 1993 by Yūko Tsushima
English translation copyright © 2018 by Geraldine Harcourt