Chapter 105: The Sense of Distance
Ye Zhao handed her another CD.
“More?” Izumi Sakai asked, a bit surprised.
“Didn't we agree that if you wrote lyrics for me, I would compose a song for you as well?”
“That’s true,” Izumi Sakai pondered for a moment. “But your new album is still accepting songs, so wouldn’t it be inappropriate to give your new song to someone else first?”
“That’s a separate matter, since this is specially prepared for you,” Ye Zhao replied.
The phrase "specially prepared" piqued Izumi Sakai’s curiosity. She put on her headphones again, inserted the CD, and pressed play.
The song Ye Zhao chose to give to Izumi Sakai was from the band Spitz. Among the RB bands, if Izumi Sakai’s female vocals were the most appealing to Ye Zhao, then Masamune Kusano of Spitz was the male vocalist who captivated him most. Kusano gave Ye Zhao a feeling summed up in two words: “youthful.” Wearing a white shirt and singing with a somewhat innocent and carefree voice, his aura carried an untainted purity.
In a way, Masamune Kusano and Izumi Sakai shared a similar temperament. So, after agreeing to compose a song for Sakai, Ye Zhao immediately thought of Spitz.
Ultimately, he chose their 2008 single “Young Leaves.” The melody of “Young Leaves” wasn’t flashy but simple and warm, very pleasant to the ear, and imbued with Spitz’s characteristic fairy-tale-like dreaminess.
When the song ended, Izumi Sakai took off her headphones and hesitated. “Ye-kun, is this really for me?”
Ye Zhao nodded. “What do you think?”
“No doubt, it’s a great song. And compared to the previous one, this is clearly of higher quality.”
“That’s because ‘good things are meant to be shared,’ something I learned from you, Izumi-san.”
Izumi Sakai smiled wryly. “Saying that now sounds like I’m already preparing excuses for myself.”
“But would you want me to give you an ordinary song? That would only put you in a difficult position,” Ye Zhao laughed openly. “Besides, since I said it was specially prepared for you, if you reject it because it’s bad, that’s one thing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even sing it myself.”
...
Dinner came naturally—just the two of them.
When Izumi Sakai offered to pay, Ye Zhao said, “Though it may seem rude coming from me, I want to treat you to dinner as a thank you.”
Everyone knew RB was a country that valued seniority and hierarchy. Under the strict senpai-kohai system, it was easy for senior Izumi Sakai to invite junior Ye Zhao to dinner, but for Ye Zhao to offer to pay was somewhat impolite.
Still, despite this, Ye Zhao made the offer as a small test. Deep down, he did not see Izumi Sakai merely as a senior at the company but as a friend in a more relaxed relationship. However, he was unsure whether Izumi Sakai felt comfortable crossing that senior-junior boundary.
“Thank you? What am I supposed to thank you for, Ye-kun?”
Ye Zhao picked up a ukulele. “Of course, it’s to thank you for the gift you specially brought me.”
The seemingly offhand reply caught Izumi Sakai off guard for a moment, but then she understood. She nodded and smiled gently, “In that case, Ye-kun, tonight’s dinner is on you.”
Her tender smile was an answer to Ye Zhao. Though nothing had yet occurred to symbolize a shift in their relationship, it was like rainwater naturally soaking into the soil after falling: in Izumi Sakai’s heart, Ye Zhao was no longer just a junior colleague but a friend who could enter her life beyond work.
...
The last time they dined together was at a kaiseki restaurant that required a week’s advance booking, accompanied by their managers and assistants. This time was much more casual, a meal in Kita-Aoyama with no entourage—just the two of them.
As they ate grilled oysters, Ye Zhao said, “This is the second time we’ve eaten alone together, right?”
“Three times, I think? The time in Kamakura...” Izumi Sakai recalled his emphasis on “alone” and nodded, “That’s right.”
“Speaking of Kamakura, though it feels like a long time ago, that old lady’s cooking was really good.”
“Indeed. Though it might sound strange, it was a comforting flavor.”
“I get it, I get it,” Ye Zhao nodded, then joked, “Kamakura really is a wonderful place. If I could, I’d stay there forever.”
“And what about your work as a singer?”
“Hmm... When there’s work, I’d just take the train to Tokyo for a bit,” Ye Zhao said, shaking his head. “But if that really happened, I might get bored. Sometimes a bit of distance is necessary to preserve the beauty of the place in your heart.”
“But if you don’t move forward, wouldn’t you regret it?” Izumi Sakai sipped her white wine. “If you truly fall in love with something, you can’t help but want to get closer. What changes after the distance disappears can only be known once it really does.”
Ye Zhao was somewhat impressed. “So you’re an ‘offensive’ type, Izumi-san?”
“‘Offensive’?” Izumi Sakai raised an eyebrow in mild embarrassment. “Not that extreme. But I do have a bit of an adventurous streak.” She asked mischievously, “You wouldn’t guess that just from my appearance, would you?”
Ye Zhao shook his head. “Sometimes, you remind me a bit of a young boy.”
“Don’t be fooled by how I look. When I was in school, I was very active in sports clubs,” Izumi Sakai said with a lively smile.
...
After dinner, Ye Zhao and Izumi Sakai left the restaurant together. She glanced at her wristwatch; from Ye Zhao’s perspective, he could see the “SEIKO” logo and the hands pointing to 7:40.
The dinner had been so enjoyable that Ye Zhao did not want to part so soon. As he pondered how to phrase this, Izumi Sakai took the initiative.
“There’s a place nearby I’d like to visit. Ye-kun, want to come along?”
The bustling streets at night were crowded with people. The dim evening light offered a natural disguise for the two, who did not attract much attention. Since earlier, several seemingly loving couples had brushed past them. Though no one could say if these romances would last or if the person beside them was their one and only, every face bore a happy expression.
After about ten minutes on foot, they turned into a quiet alley and stopped before a building. Izumi Sakai stepped down a staircase leading to the basement, with Ye Zhao following behind.
They walked along a corridor extending to the right and finally stopped before a door. Izumi Sakai pressed the doorbell, and soon a slender woman around thirty opened it.
“Welcome. Izumi-san, long time no see. And this must be...” The woman glanced past Izumi Sakai’s shoulder at Ye Zhao with a small look of surprise. It was clear her surprise was not about Ye Zhao’s identity but about why he was with Izumi Sakai.
“My name’s Ye. Sorry to intrude.”
Upon hearing his introduction, the woman bowed slightly and stepped aside. “Please come in.”
Just before entering, Ye Zhao noticed a small sign outside the door—it was a candle workshop.
Inside, the corridor was dim, but the room had a wide, bright white wall. The dazzling interior contrasted sharply with the outside. The air conditioning was a bit cool, and a faint sweet fragrance filled the room, soothing and calming. Ye Zhao wasn’t sure if the scent came from the candles or the shop’s aroma.
Looking around, Ye Zhao saw simple yet tasteful shelves displaying various candles in a riot of colors and shapes.
A young man with dark skin and stretched earlobes adorned with large earrings greeted them. “Welcome.”
“I’m sorry for the trouble, Tsuda-san,” Izumi Sakai said, evidently well acquainted with the two people in the shop.
Tsuda nodded. “Please take your time. Lately, I’m especially proud of these,” he said, gesturing toward a shelf near the workbench. There, a collection of intricately carved candles depicting vivid birds and flowers was displayed.
“These are amazing, truly works of art.”
Tsuda smiled kindly. “You flatter me, Ye-san.”
“But such beautiful and delicate candles—wouldn’t it be a shame to just burn them all away?”
Izumi Sakai chuckled softly. “Ye-kun, the way to use these candles is to light the wick in the center first. Once it burns a hole inside, you place a small candle or bulb inside. Burning them all at once would be such a waste.”
“I see now!” Ye Zhao said, enlightened.