Please Give Me Love c2

Dispensing with the preliminaries–

To be completely honest, I didn’t think this letter correspondence would continue for as long as it has; I’ve already received over ten letters from you, Motojirou. Thanks to your reassuring words, I was able to graduate safely from high school and I was even able to begin working as a childcare worker at Kitazawa Preschool. I am truly grateful to you.

The Panda division that I am in charge of consists of four year olds, and they are of an age when they have just begun to be able to express in words their own will. They’re children at the peak of cuteness, and there is nothing but pureness in them; this is why I am able to pour my true feelings into the way I interact with them. Currently, I guess you could say I’m living my life enjoying everyday working being charmed by their innocent, genuine expressions of love.

Once, I bumped into her and her family as they were walking past the train station, and I got the impression of her parents being very friendly, but Mimei had this look on her face the whole time as if she was unhappy. When I greeted them, her parents were delighted and had big smiles on their faces. I don’t know if she was just embarrassed, but her face wasn’t like the one she showed at the preschool—it was as if she was dependent on her parents, or maybe she was just embarrassed to be seen with her parents– either way, it was something I had a hard time understanding, but she had this look on her face as if she wished she could just leave this situation as quickly as possible. The next day, I heard from her that her father always comes home late from work, and that was the first time in a while that they went out to eat as a whole family, but she was feeling irritated because her father kept talking about his work. Since I don’t know how it works in a family, all I could think was: “Oh, so that’s what it’s like?”

Although the interpersonal relations are going well so far at the preschool, there are some ill-natured teachers among the bunch. But those kind of people exist everywhere, so I don’t let that get to me. The one who I find the most difficult to deal with though is the teacher who’s like a hanger-on of the director– the veteran, Inohara Rinko-sensei. She’s someone who’s in her late 30’s.

“Since you’re an orphan who’s never experienced a parent’s love, you probably don’t know how to interact with children, do you? Well then, if that’s the case, you should at least make sure you’re never short of a smile in front of them.”

Even though it is a preschool, those who operate it are adults, right? And there can be found a normal world of adults—no, on the contrary, because it is a workplace that is filled with women, the pressure is much stronger than I expected, and because this is a small world called a preschool, it seems the case that it is a place characterized by friction and discord. For someone like me who joined because she looked forward to interacting with children, it was a major miscalculation on my part. Although I will try my best to avoid interacting with the adults, that will probably be hard to achieve. It could be said that this work place with so many women will have to it many more of the things I hate than would a normal company.

The luncheon ladies however are very kind to me, and they dote on me as if I’m their daughter, so there are times that I do enjoy my time here. I’m going to just try focusing on the fun things without focusing too much on the negative aspects.

Well then, to continue on from where I left off earlier, I’ll introduce you to the last half of a typical day at the preschool, okay? Usually, all the preschool children come together by 9 o’clock in the morning. Until everyone arrives, we just let them play freely with the toys and afterwards, we go out for a walk. We go to the nearby park holding hands. However, it’s rather difficult to get the children to listen, so you do have to be on your toes. It’s especially so when we have to walk down Chazawa Street, which has many cars passing by, and I am in a continuous state of nervouness that the children might suddenly jump out into the street. This state doesn’t even allow me to blink. But it’s true that the children’s smiles put a warm feeling in my heart. There is a shrine nearby, and because there is a pretty big children’s playground beside it, we mostly stay there and let them play. What I probably like most is watching the children playing immersed in their own worlds in the sandbox.

When do humans become adults? And why do people become so spiteful and become a mass of ill will? I don’t get it.

Once they’re finished playing in the sandbox, we all hold hands and head back to the preschool. We sing songs and make word chains as we head back. From time to time, a middle-aged woman who lives in the neighbourhood allows us to see the chicken she keeps in her yard. And although it might come as a surprise, there is a small field in the middle of Setagaya, and sometimes, the person who owns it sometimes allows the children to touch the vegetables that he grows there.

Most of the children are gone by around four o’clock, but another important part of my job is providing emotional care for the kids who are still left. This is how each day passes by in a busy blur.

Although these kids are only four years old, it takes quite a bit of strength to carry them in my arms, and I have quite a bit of pain in my muscles. I’m worried that if I keep this up, my arms might become big. Well, it’s healthy, so I guess it’s okay? Lately, I’ve become a macho Ririka.

And despite saying that I’m so busy that I don’t have much time to write a reply, I am always waiting for your letters with a baited breath. And whenever I spot your letter in my mail box, my heart leaps for joy. I hold your letter close to my heart as if it were a note from a lover, and my cheeks flush as I think of you, whom I’ve never even met. I quickly retreat to my room and carefully cut the envelope, and at times, I smell the notepaper and I read it with great attention. I cherish each and every line as I read them.

Although the contents of this letter turned out to be quite short this time around, please don’t worry– I am managing to get by somehow. In the next letter, I will report to you in more detail, okay? Well then, please do your best at work. Since it’s spring, it must be starting to get a bit busy what with more tourists coming in, right? Please take good care of yourself.

April 15th

Ririka.

P.S.

Plus, right now, I am living in an apartment that doesn’t have a bathtub. That’s why I go to the public bath. I thought I was used to being alone, but as it turns out, I wasn’t as used to it as I thought.

This time of year, the Hakodate town that can be gazed at from Sanchou Station is a beautiful one filled with light that lets off a brilliant sparkle. The interesting thing is— I don’t know whether it’s the car mirrors or the windshield, but the twinkling of light that reflects off them looks almost as if it’s radiating light from glass inlayed into the roads, and the sparkle of light that’s emitted is very beautiful. It’s as if Hakodate itself is a kind of living being, and is letting off a sparkle of its own.

Your job seems like it’s a lot of work. A preschool, huh? Of course, since I don’t have any children yet, I have no idea what that world is like. There is a small preschool near my home and whenever I pass by it, the childcarers are playing with the children in the small yard, and hearing the bursts of laughter from there wraps me in a warm atmosphere and before I knew it, I felt a sense of calmness rush over me. Although my knowledge of preschools only extends to that, I found your letter fascinating.

So you’ve started living by yourself, huh? I can’t help but feel a bit envious. I’ve always lived together with my mother. I think that’ll remain so for as long as she is alive. You could say that’s kind of like my fate and so, whoever ends up being my wife will have to be someone who is understanding of that. With regards to that, my mother seems really troubled by it, and she tells me that I shouldn’t worry about her and that I should marry and move out already, but I can’t do that. No matter what she says, she’s someone who took in an orphan like me and raised me like she would her own son. I am indebted to her.

Now, if I had been taken in when I was two or three years old, I think a relationship as parent and child would’ve been established before I became conscious of all that, so I might’ve been able to be more uninhibited around her like a real son would, but our ties as parent-and child were made when I’d almost become an adult, right? Since I was adopted by them when I was in junior high. That’s why, even if I call them “mother” and “father,” somewhere in the deep, deep recesses of my mind, I am thinking how I am not related to these people. That’s why on the contrary, I become frantic thinking how I have to repay them for their kindness, and I can’t feel free enough to depend on them.

Although I feel a bit bad about it, I can’t help but feel a bit envious of the freedom that you have that allows you to be able to live by yourself. I feel like you’re going to scold me saying that someone who has parents shouldn’t ask for too much. I do realize that this worry of mine is something that I should feel lucky to have. I know that very well.

That’s probably the worries I have in my direct line of sight. To be honest, as of late, I’ve fallen in love—well, no, I can’t say for sure that it’s love yet. I think it’d be more accurate to say that I feel as if I am about to fall in love. She’s someone who’s around the same age as me, and she’s someone I met at the hospital my mother is frequenting (my mother has a weak body so she goes to see the doctor twice a week). Although I feel as if I am about to develop feelings for this person, as you may have already guessed, I end up thinking about my mother, and I haven’t been able to advance this relationship beyond that of friendship. I know this is a pitiful story.

It’s true though that my mother is always thinking how she doesn’t want anyone to take me away from her. Ever since my father died, I have become a source of emotional support for my mother. Because we aren’t related by blood though, she seems to think that the day I part from her is the day I go out into the world, and she feels that when that happens, she might never be able to see me again–no, to use a harsher expression, there is a part of her that thinks she’s going to be abandoned. This is why whenever I make friends with someone of the opposite sex, she gets in the way right away, and this is why things didn’t work out with my previous girlfriend.

Living on your own, huh? I still haven’t experienced that. I think as long as my mother’s alive, it’s something that won’t happen. I can’t help but be envious of you being able to have a world in which you can do as you like, in which you don’t have to worry about anything or anyone. A world of your own…when you think of it that way, loneliness isn’t that big of a problem, don’t you think? There are times I think of loneliness as my friend above all. I also feel that we can make happiness ours the moment we can become friends with loneliness. And currently, you are in a place where that is possible.

I wish I could be alone in my room to think. I want to think about many different things without having anyone interrupt. I really do feel envious of you.

No one has a hold on you. When you think of it that way, I think that’s amazing. I think you should be more happy about your current situation since you’ve finally been able to live by yourself. One of these days, you’ll fall in love, and end up marrying—then, I’m sure you’ll start wishing you could spend time by yourself. That’s why I think you should take it more easy and just enjoy your time alone.

I will always be here to lend you an ear. If there are nights that you can’t sleep, please write down those feelings on letter paper. I am also always waiting for your letters with a baited breath. I’ll write again.

April 20th

No matter where you go, there will be unpleasant people. I think that a place where there are no unpleasant people doesn’t exist on this Earth. Well then, why is this world so overflowing with such people?
I think it’s because God is providing us with practice—He is allowing us to learn about life through such lot. Whenever I come across unpleasant people, I always try to think of it like that. People often say “you can better yourself by observing others,” so you should consider them as educational material and live your life while maintaining your own pace– that’s the best plan, in my opinion.

Chapter end