“And I am certain that a woman such as yourself could easily afford an establishment with better ambience.”
Izumi twirled her pearls around her neck, her eyes fixed on her tea.
“But this restaurant isn’t like just any other restaurant, is it?” Toshio said.
Izumi looked away.
“Do not worry, Takeda-sama. I have no intentions of prying. I do not need to. I already know why you decided to visit the restaurant today.”
Izumi’s thin brows shot up.
“You said that you used to frequent this restaurant when you were younger.” Toshio clasped his hands over the table. “People revisit the past to relive pleasant memories, chase away bad ones, or both.”
“Since you seem to think that you know me so well and are unwilling to accept my simple desire to eat ramen as my only explanation for being here, would you care to share which of these reasons you believe is mine?” Izumi said.
“You came to the restaurant to dine with a ghost.”
“That’s…” Izumi’s voice caught in her throat. “That’s nonsense.”
“So you were joining a friend for a meal, then?”
“Well…I…no. I was going to eat alone. I like coming here by myself. I visit at least once every autumn.”
“But no one ever really dines alone, do they?” Toshio said. “Our thoughts share our meals with us. They keep us company whether we invite them to or not and are especially noisy when they are the only ones at our table. They chatter about all the things we cannot say aloud. In your case, I would guess that they like to reminisce about a time when you were not the woman you are today, a time, perhaps, when you liked to share your table at the ramen restaurant with someone else.”
“Stop.”
“You argue with your thoughts and insist that they are wrong, but they keep on going until your ramen turns cold. But that does not stop you from coming back whenever you have the chance, because a cold bowl of ramen still tastes better than any hot meal in your home.”
“Stop.” Tears welled in Izumi’s eyes and streamed down her pale cheeks. “Please, stop.”
“I’m sorry. You asked me a question and I answered it. There are many things that I wish I did not know, but after spending a lifetime at this pawnshop, I can read the stories of my clients as though they were written on their faces.”
Izumi dried her eyes. “I am not your client.”
“You are correct.” Toshio laced his fingers. “I have not yet decided if what you wish to exchange is of any value.”
“Enough. I’m tired of your games.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “Who are you?”
“I am simply a man who offers a unique service to those who require it, a man who can tell that you are crying not because you are sad, but because you are angry. But not at me. You wish you were, but you are not. You were furious even before you set foot inside this pawnshop.”
Izumi glared at him, color rising over her neck. “Of courseI’m angry. I hate that I have every reason to be happy and yet all I feel are the cracks spreading inside me each time I force myself to smile. Is that what you wanted me to say? Is this what you want me to pawn? A broken smile patched with gold like one of your tea bowls? Because if you will take it, I will give it to you right now.”
“So you believe what I have told you about the pawnshop?”
“Prove it. Make me believe.”
“Very well. Show me your choice and I will tell you what it is worth.”
“Show you? How? A choice isn’t something you keep in your pocket or purse.”
“You carry around all the decisions you have ever made in your life, Takeda-sama. This choice is no different,” Toshio said. “And I think that you already know exactly where to find it.”
Chapter Three
Bus Fare
A compact mirror. A gold tube of matte lipstick. House keys. Takeda Izumi found that, as a rule, you had to shove aside at least three things in your handbag before finding what you were looking for.
