Grotesque Read online

  “Kind of salty!”

  “Have it all if you like.”

  “No. It’s not very good.”

  The girl said her name was Mokumi, an unusual name, but that everyone called her Mokku. Her father was the president of a famous soy sauce corporation, and she was more brazen and entitled than any of the other students.

  “So, is your father white or something?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Well, if a half is going to turn out as gorgeous as you, I’ll just have to go and have one of my own,” Mokku said, in all seriousness. “But your older sister isn’t pretty at all, is she? Everyone in class just went over to the high school to get a look at her. Is she really your sister?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  Mokku snapped the lid of my lunch box shut without bothering to ask me if I minded.

  “Well, it’s unbelievable. When we went to get a look at her, she made an ugly face. She’s a real dog, and creepy to boot. We were disappointed. She doesn’t look like you at all. I’ll bet she disappoints you too.”

  It wasn’t unusual for me to encounter scenarios like this. When people first met me, they’d come up with all kinds of fantasies on my behalf. They’d imagine that I lived some kind of Barbie-doll life in a dream house with a handsome daddy, a pretty mama, and a good-looking older brother and gorgeous older sister protecting me. But then, when they actually saw my older sister—who looked nothing like the image they’d conjured up—their little fantasy about me disintegrated. They’d start to despise me—so I became everyone’s little plaything.

  I looked around the classroom. The students who had been so excited about my appearance that morning had returned and were sitting at their desks. Everyone struggled to avoid looking in my direction. My very existence was a riddle now. I had become a suspicious creature.

  Just then something landed on my desk and rolled across it. It was a small wad of paper. I picked it up and stuffed it in my uniform pocket. I wonder who’d thrown it. The girl sitting across from me had her English textbook open and was poring over it studiously. But young Kijima, who was sitting in front of her, turned to look back at me. So it was Kijima. I took the wad of paper out of my pocket and threw it back at him. I didn’t need to read it to know what it said. He’d seen my sister. He figured out that we were one and the same.

  After class, Mokku came over to me and grabbed my arm.

  “Come with me. I promised the seniors I’d show you to them.”

  She led me out into the corridor where a senior girl with a golden-brown tan and a ponytail was standing. Her eyes were narrow, her mouth large, and her garish face exuded self-confidence.

  “You’re Yuriko, right? I’m Nakanishi, the president of the cheerleader squad. I want you to join our club.”

  “I have no experience.”

  I’d never once even thought about joining a club and had little interest in the prospect. In the first place, I didn’t have any money. More than that, I really didn’t enjoy doing things in groups.

  “It won’t take long to learn. Besides, you’ll be the main attraction. The students in the high school and university will be thrilled.”

  “I don’t have any confidence.”

  Nakanishi ignored me and lifted my uniform skirt to get a look at my legs.

  “Your legs are long and pretty. You really are a perfect beauty. We have to show you off!”

  Johnson’s words reverberated through my head. Yuriko is perfect. Perfect even down there.

  Mokku spoke insistently from behind Nakanishi. “The president of the cheerleaders has personally scouted you out and invited you to join. You can’t say no.” My slowness to react irritated her and she pursed her lips. The pink lip gloss on her thick lips glistened. When I still refused to answer, Mokku snickered and said, “Maybe Yuriko’s retarded or something.”

  Nakanishi gave Mokku a shove. “Mokku, you’re going too far!”

  “But she’s so pretty—it wouldn’t be fair if she was smart too!”

  “Give her time.” Nakanishi stepped in quickly in an effort to quiet Mokku. “It’s all so sudden she’s probably confused. We’ve got a lot of games coming up in October and we’re going to be really busy anyway.”

  The president of the cheerleaders walked off with Mokku. When the other students noticed Nakanishi in the corridor, they called out to her in high squeaky voices, respectful and clearly doing their best to suck up and score points with her. I hated games like this. I thought about asking Johnson to get a doctor to write me an excuse that would keep me off the squad. But then I thought about how much Johnson would enjoy seeing me in my little uniform.

  Just then I felt a dark black cloud gliding over me. It was Kijima.

  “Why’d you throw my letter back without reading it?”

  • 6 •

  Kijima’s face was delicately chiseled for a boy and beautiful. His eyes were as sharp as a finely honed blade; the bridge of his nose thin. His attractiveness left one feeling both lack and excess. And, to be sure, with Kijima some things were missing, while others were overly abundant. Perhaps it was a combination of pride and self-consciousness. At any rate, this unbalance made Kijima look at once both pathetic and insolent.

  “What! Can’t answer?”

  Kijima bit his lip in anger. Earlier, when I’d been surrounded by the other students in the class, I’d nodded to each question with a vague smile or answered with a word or two, passive and meek. It was only to Kijima that I stubbornly refused a response. I suppose this irritated him.

  “I don’t reply to strangers who address me so impertinently.”

  When Kijima realized I was rebuffing him, a contemptuous smile crossed his lips.

  “So how would you like to be addressed, Your Royal Highness? Why should I respect someone as obtuse as you? My father brought home some files the other day and I saw your test scores. You’ve got to be the dumbest person ever admitted to the Q School system. The only reason they admitted someone as stupid as you is because of your looks. Did you know that?”

  “Who let me in?”

  “The school did.”

  “No. The school did not let me in. Your father did. Professor Kijima.”

  My words hit home. Kijima’s slender frame trembled and he stepped back.

  “Your father has his eye on me, you know. Ask him when you go home, why don’t you? How tough it must be for you to have your own father as your head instructor.”

  Kijima stuffed his hands in his pockets and glowered at the floor. He shifted from foot to foot nervously. Having an elder sister who looks nothing like me may damage my image, but for Kijima it was worse. His own father would be discredited as the head instructor and would become the source of gossip. Kijima would lose his standing in the classroom. Both he and I faced the same dilemma. Kijima thought it over momentarily and then looked up. Having at last come up with an appropriate riposte, his face was flushed with victory.

  “We’ve got specimens of butterflies and other insects all over the house, on account of my father being a biologist. It’s not surprising he’d want to add you to his collection. You’re a strange species.”

  “I suppose your father refuses to add you to his collection. You’re hardly worthy of attention.”

  I’d hit Kijima’s sore spot. His beautiful face turned crimson and then blanched white with anger.

  “That’s what everyone thinks. They think I’m a lousy student.”

  “I’m sure they do. That’s the way rumors work.”

  “So are you a gossip?”

  “And you aren’t? You’re the one who ran off to look at my sister and came back with the others to make fun of me.”

  Kijima looked like his words had gotten stuck in his throat. I wasn’t by nature the kind of person who struck first—not like my sister. But for some reason I had felt compelled to go after Kijima. Why? It was simple. He hated me, just as much as my sister did. And so I hated him too. This was a first for me. With Kijima there was no des