Chapter Twenty Three: Foolish Fools Fooling Foolishly.

“Why did you ask that question?”

The most unnerving thing was the emotionless manner in which Hibiki asked the question.

He did not appear to be surprised, angry, amused, or embarrassed. He displayed no emotion whatsoever. In fact, he asked the question as though he merely wished for some clarification.

Trash pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. He needed to explain himself, but his thoughts were scattered. He now realized how rude what he just said could be interpreted, and he was surprised that he had asked it at all.

Hibiki just looked at him, his gaze as unwavering as it was patient.

「You told me before, you said… You said we had a lot in common. When you told that story, I felt closer to Tai. I am not rich; I was not pampered… I just thought that maybe, this would make more sense.」

In the back of his mind was a thought he couldn’t bring himself to vocalize. It was something that had been yelled at him on school playgrounds, but something he had never once given the power of his own voice. He would never question the national identity of another, any more than he would doubt his own.

“Is that all?”

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. Then he shook his head slowly.

“N-no. No. I just felt. I felt that when you were speaking, It just didn’t sound… sincere? Is that the right word?”

Finally, the Old Goat’s stone mask softened. The slightest grin appeared at the corners of his mouth.

“There are some, academics and politicians mostly; who say that the Japanese can be an inscrutable people. Over the years, during the war, then through the great economic boom, and finally the subsequent crash, many people complained that you cannot trust what a Japanese person says to you. That we are two-faced.”

Hibiki chuckled as though he had said something funny, but Trash could not discern any humor in that statement.

“In my experience, that analysis couldn’t be further from the truth. When I speak Japanese, I find it difficult to deceive others. Every time I say something untrue, I fear that my expressions, my body language, the tone of my voice, it will always express my true feelings better than my words. Trash, whenever I asked you a question, regardless of what you said in response, I could tell how you felt, simply by the muscles on your face, the hesitation in your words, or the emphasis in your voice. In my eyes, there are no more honest people than the Japanese. But that’s when facing another Japanese person.”

Trash thought about that. He wasn’t sure he could agree with that. Everyone lied. Some are better at it than others. These days, he dealt with many foreigners from all over the world, and while he didn’t have strong feelings about any particular nationality; on the internet, there was a sense of equality. In a place where people hid behind handle names, there was a protocol of balancing trust and privacy.

“I learned to lie in London. Of course, after a war, there will always be anger and recrimination. Those who will blame you for the things they have unjustly lost, simply because your face reminds them of the cause of those losses. Every day, In order to survive, I needed to smile, to bow my head, to accept their anger and their blame, and in return, I could only swallow my own losses. To me, Japanese is the language where I always reveal who I am, and English is the language that allows me to be who I need to be.”

Again, his own experiences were different, but Trash could understand that explanation. He was always taught never to fight back. When the other children and adults insulted him because of his family background, and called him names, he could never show the anger in his heart. He was taught to act that way by his own family. He was always at fault by the nature of his blood. Even when they escalated, he could only ignore it as though each insult didn’t cut into him, but of course, he felt each and every one.

“I think I understand. I have a… a friend. She said that she thinks and acts differently when she speaks in different languages. She says that the way she talks, and what she does when she speaks English are totally different when she is using Japanese. I’m not like that, though. But maybe I am the same. Except I never feel free when I speak with my voice. I prefer talking online. Then, I never… have problems with my words. I can check things first. Say what I mean. I trust people I know online more than in person.”

Hibiki’s grin grew larger. He seemed very pleased now.

“When I said that we are similar, this is what I was talking about. In my line of work, I need to meet many, many, people. I must be able to quickly understand: Is this a person I can trust? Is this a dependable person? Does this person have the potential to grow, or is this person a risk to themselves and those around them? I don’t know if this is an instinct, or if it is a skill that can be learned, but I think it helps when you spend a lot of time observing other people. I also know that it is rare to find someone who does it well.”

Hibiki seemed to tire. Sinking a bit into his chair, as though he had finally finished a difficult task and could finally relax.

“Trash, I am an old man. Distrusting everyone you meet is easy, but exhausting. You saw the wall of photos in the shop. Do you think I trust any of those snakes? My life would have ended in disaster if I had. But the other pictures, the ones in my study. I know that you noticed them. How they are different.”

“You weren’t in any of those pictures.”

“No, I was the one taking the pictures. I took those pictures so that I could keep them close to me. Because they are the ones who are truly responsible for my success. Those are the ones worth being close to.”

“What about the others? Why keep all those pictures on the wall, then?”

“Because they are my valuable customers. The ones who wish to use me, and who I use to accomplish my own goals.”

Switching into Japanese, Hibiki continued.

「When I spoke to Danny about the nature of business in Japan, I did not fully explain things. Indeed, there are two types of business here, transactional and relational. But that is only a superficial understanding. At first glance, it looks to be true, so people may misinterpret it as wisdom when it is merely sophomoric sociology. The truth is humans are far more complicated, more diverse, and wonderfully contradictory. All relationships are transactional. All transactions are, in turn, relationships.」

“Trash, what you possess is the starter kit. You have empathy, awareness, and listening skills. The rest, should you choose to walk down this path, will come with time and experience. Build your network of contacts and customers. Nurture relationship like a farmer growing rice.

The key to success, however, will be the ones you surround yourself with. Without those you can trust, you will find yourself adrift in a sea of doubt.”

“Mister… Mister Hibiki. You still have not answered my question.”

Hibiki’s stare penetrated deeply into Trash. He felt as though the old man was cooking him with laser beams coming from his eyes.

“You wish to know if you can trust me? Good. That’s what I would expect from my rival.”

Hibiki sat back up in his chair. He took a deep breath, and with the same look of sadness in his eyes that had had when he looked at the bridge in front of the shrine entrance, he continued telling his story.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

----------------------------------------

Hibiki never came back from the war. Things were chaotic then. The losses were so great. Entire communities were gone, and records were lost or damaged. I finally found someone who confirmed that my parents had perished in a fire after the Americans bombed Tokyo, while I had been sent to work in a munitions factory in Osaka.

At the end of the war, the Americans blew that factory up, but we were warned when the attack started and fled. I eventually made my way back to Tokyo, but by then, the war was over, and everything was in chaos.

I had no idea what to do. I had no family or money. Like many of the displaced, I just wandered the streets, begging for food. Then, one day, an old woman grabbed me and started to cry.

The strange thing is that Hibiki and I looked nothing alike. Of course, I knew his grandmother, and she knew me. She and the rest of his family condemned me as a bad influence, and would chase me off if I hung around.

I fear that her mind was broken by the loss of her family, her home, and everything they possessed. Somehow, when she saw me, she switched us in her mind; so great was her desperation to see her precious grandchild.

I had nowhere else to go. I had nothing else at all, not even papers to prove who I was. I went home with her and started to care for her in her declining health.

I kept searching for Hibiki for months, but there was no sign of him. The army records were a mess. He had disappeared along with countless other young men into the war machine. Eventually, I, too, gave up hope. With his grandmother vouching for my identity, I had new documents made in Hibiki’s name.

From that day, I’ve done everything I could to keep my promise to my friend. To fulfill his dream to travel and escape Japan. I have also fought to honor his meaningless sacrifice. Taizo Arai perished in the war. Hibiki Horikoshi returned from the fighting.

----------------------------------------

For the first time, Trash saw a true emotion from the Old Goat. Only for a moment, the mask cracked, and he saw sadness and loneliness that mirrored his own, but with far greater depth. As though his own struggles were a puddle, and the loss reflected this man’s eyes were as deep as the sea.

Trash made up his mind. This man was strange and eccentric. He was a liar, and his words should never be casually trusted. Despite that, however, Trash wanted to believe him. He wanted to trust he was a good person, someone deserving of praise, even if he had done questionable things.

Trash’s phone made a buzzing noise, and he quickly pulled it out.

He quickly looked at the message and then placed the phone on the table.

Hibiki, looking even more tired and old, smiled weakly, then looked at the phone.

“That was Pazu… Hiroyuki. He’s on the train. He should be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Then shall we go meet him at the station?”

Trash nodded.

「What’s wrong with your phone?」

「Oh, I smashed it pretty good during the fall,」 Trash admitted with an embarrassed look.

「Hmph, I see.」

They walked back slowly, without another word, until they were back on the bridge by the main station exit. Hibiki let out a long breath and leaned on his cane.

Trash stood by and let the man rest a bit. The crowds had grown, and there were even more kids, but also groups of men with expensive-looking cameras, taking pictures of the goth-loli girls.

It reminded him of the creeps who would hang out at cosplay events, prodding the young girls into various poses. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He felt defensive of his friends, who just wanted to indulge in their hobby.

「Things move so fast now. It’s hard for me to keep up.」

Trash looked at Hibiki, who was also watching the interactions on the bridge.

「It’s not like it used to be. Maybe it never was all like I remember. Perhaps you can’t stay at the forefront of cultural change without being subject to the change yourself. I’m afraid that the spirit of those kids is finally leaving this place. Just like the spirit of this old man.」

「Maybe…」 Trash reluctantly agreed.

「I was never a musician. I had no talent, and no time to learn. But I loved the music others made. I did everything I could to encourage them, to give them a path, and a place. Just a few at first, but over time, those few became many, and those many went on to do amazing things.」

Hibiki turned and looked up at Trash.

“Do you know the song, Turn, Turn, Turn? By the Byrds?”

Trash shook his head; he really didn’t know much about music, especially the classics.

Hibiki gave him a look of disgust.

“It was originally recorded as an American Folk song. The lyrics are basically stolen from a verse in the Bible. From the Book of Ecclesiastes. Then, in ‘65, an American band turned it into a rock anthem.”

> ”To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:”

「Oh! Yeah, I think I know that one.」

“Small miracles,” Hibiki commented sarcastically.

“I don’t know about the future of Shibuya, or Harajuku, or Takeshita Street. Perhaps the spirit will evolve again. Maybe it will pass into time. Paved over with corporate branded indistinct blandness. The only thing I am sure of is that I won’t be around any longer. Denmark Street won’t be around.“

Trash realized what Pazu had given up. The Old Goat had wanted a successor, but Pazu wasn’t interested.

Maybe Pazu had recommended Trash. There was a connection there. But Hibiki said that he couldn’t be Trash’s teacher.

「I can’t take care of Denmark Street for you.」

He wasn’t sure if he said it as a statement or a question.

“God, no! Of course not. I already told you. Just as I told Hiroyuki. You don’t know the first things about… Anything! Not only that, but you are totally unsuitable.“

「No, when I die, Denmark Street will pass along with me. Its time is over.」

Hibiki started to walk past the station towards the Takeshita Street Exit, where Pazu would come out.

“For places like this to exist, someone needs to watch out for the young and innocent. So, we don’t sacrifice the dreams of tomorrow for the pride of the old men. The man who ordered Taizo into that weapons factory, and the one who sent Hibiki into that battlefield. Did you know that their grandsons are on that wall in Denmark Street? Smiling, standing next to this crazy old man.”

「What?」

“You really must start to learn more about current events. You may know plenty about gadgets and cartoon characters, but your lack of common sense is really embarrassing.”

“They are called MP3s, not MD3s.”

“What?”

「The digital music files. They are called MP3s. You called them MD3s…」

As his words trailed off, Trash realized how childish he sounded.

Hibiki stared at him. Then started laughing so hard he almost tripped, and Trash had to reach out and grab the old man’s elbow to steady him.

「Quite a sight we must be. An old goat from Shibuya and a snot-nosed kid from Akihabara.」

They met up with Pazu who was waiting for them at the exit to the station. Pazu, properly trained in etiquette, brought along a box of Belgian waffles that he picked up at Akihabara station, which he handed to Agbor as they reached Denmark Street.

It seemed that this was a good enough excuse to stop for tea again, and they sat for a while, eating the waffles with tea in the sitting room.

Even as they enjoyed the snack; Trash was starting to worry about the amount of sugar the Old Goat consumed. Hibiki motioned for Agbor to come over and whispered something to the giant, who quickly left the room. He came back a minute later with a small bag which he placed in front of Trash.

「Trash, about your phone. I feel bad that you broke your phone while foolishly playing around outside my window.」

Trash didn’t know exactly how to respond to the acid-laced sympathy, so he just nodded politely while giving Pazu a look.

「Harumph, Anyway. I get gifts of gadgets and gizmos from time to time that I have no need of at all. As I have a perfectly good phone, How about I give you one of these freebies?」

Pulling out his phone from his waist, Hibiki showed off his personal device.

Trash frowned. The phone the man was waving around proudly was easily recognizable.

「That’s an infobar, isn’t it?」

「Yes! Whoever designed this was a genius. It’s beautiful!」

Trash looked at the device with a mix of wonder and disgust. He agreed that it was a classic design, but it was ancient.

「That’s the original. Not even the infobar 2. That phone is seven years old,」 Trash said with disbelief in his voice.

「Still works perfectly. Unlike some people, I know how to take care of my things and make sure they last. Besides, I don’t think they will ever make a more beautiful phone. Those new things are nothing but glass rectangles. How anyone gets paid to make something like that…」

Trash clutched at his heart as though he had been cruelly shot.

Then he reached into the bag and pulled out a small box. He wondered what ancient relic failed to meet the standards of this man. It probably wasn’t even 3G.

Trash looked at the box with a confused expression. He turned it over to confirm it was indeed real. Then he showed it to Pazu, giving him a shocked look.

「That’s insane! How do you even have this? It just came out,」Pazu reacted enthusiastically.

Trash shook his head. Pazu was wrong. He hadn’t noticed. He didn’t realize what it was.

「Oh, that? One of my friends sent it to me. He always wants to show off his newest toys. Anyway, I don’t like those new ones. This is the peak of design and function,」Hibiki said, showing off the red and white candybar phone in his hand.

「That’s so lucky. I ordered one, but haven’t picked it up yet. I’ll get mine this week.」

Trash looked at his stupid friend and shook his head more violently, still unable to find the words.

Pazu frowned at Trash’s reaction.

「It’s okay, he said he got it as a gift. Just accept it. Besides, your old phone is smashed,」 Pazu said encouragingly.

Trash held the box up to his friend’s face.

「It’s white!」 He finally managed to blurt out.

「Huh? What are you…」

「How can you have this?」

「I told you, my friend sent it to me.」

「But they canceled it. A couple of weeks ago. They said the white one had issues, and it’s been delayed. They are only selling the black ones.」

「Oh, really? Well, he sent it… maybe a month ago. Must have been before the problem was found. Sorry, I didn’t know it was defective. If you don’t wan-」

「I’ll take it!」