Tokyo Undone

Chapter 3: The taxi ride, Azabu-juban, Burial- Ghost Hardware

The hustle and bustle disappeared as the streets of Shibuya blurred into the background. Seta looked out onto the famous Meiji dori, swimming with Friday night revellers. The street connected Shibuya to the more residential Ebisu with office buildings, restaurants and bars all nestling side-by-side. On the back streets houses, apartments and flats gathered in all different colours, shapes and sizes. She loved the lack of uniformity. A mish-mash of haphazard structures sandwiched next to each other. As if an architect suffering from memory loss had unleashed on the city and in the process created this.

Her colleagues would often say they liked the orderly and samey-samey homes in Europe. Seta would shake her head in disagreement. The beauty of this city was in the architectural chaos. A complete reversal to the society's penchant for rules and orderly behaviour. Even so, the variations in buildings were, to her, perfectly Zen. She didn't know how it all made sense. It just did.

She saw the hospital flicker by on her left as the taxi passed through Hiroo. It was her go-to place for routine medical treatment, a three minute walk to her flat. She'd found a nice middle ground between the doctor speaking her native language and being unexpectedly good looking. No surprise to her that she'd see the female clientèle applying their makeup in the bathroom opposite his surgery before patiently waiting their turn.

She could not read him sufficiently but enjoyed their brief exchanges. A nurse stood guard, never leaving his side. If only she'd disappear. Maybe it was protocol but she sensed it was more than that. The sober lady recognised Seta's spirit and took it upon herself to act as a protective barrier between the two. Her wild freedom and the footprints she left on men like him, a threat. He was a serious professional, working in a regimental environment, steady demeanour intact. His judgements, a matter of life and death.

Then there was effervescent Seta. The energy and atmosphere changed as soon as she glided in. "How are you, doctor?" she'd say. For a brief moment, the wholesome medic was a regular guy talking to an attractive, irreverent girl.

She spoke to him like a close friend, asked her all important questions, did not shy away from admitting when she did not understand his explanations. It was unusual compared to the distant respect the locals endowed on medical professionals. To Seta he was a hot male who happened to be a doctor. Her equal first. The nurse was keenly aware of this difference. As was the doctor, himself.

He was quietly curious about her, she knew that. During the breast check ups, she'd take off her bra with a carefree abandon. All the while maintaining eye-contact as he touched her breasts tenderly. She got a kick out of the unimpressed, scrunched up stare spiking her way from the corner. The doctor's room her space to be free. She'd not let any disapproval get in the way of that. No Siree!

Take off my bra? Absolutely, Doctor!

Her giddy excitement at being half naked was infectious. He was never anything but professional and if he was attracted to Seta, it was masked in his doctor's calm. She respected his controlled aloofness. If she hazarded a guess, he was a little shy. More likely, partnered with a traditional type of girl. Perhaps both.

Hot, shy men, she thought, as much of an aphrodisiac as hot, confident men. One, the corruptee. The other, the corrupter. Alluring in different ways. A man who could switch between both? She revelled in the prospect.

Throughout the journey Koji remained silent. From time to time he'd glance over at her looking out the window. She was comfortable around him with no need to engage in small talk. It felt natural. Without the polite distance of formal day-to-day Japanese communication. At the same time, he made her nervous. She liked the tense feeling.