The Smile

Dangling at the edge of a brick building- labeled with only a sign sporting a neon Bengal tiger sits a tall, blue haired Asian teenager. He is suspended several stories above the city.

His piercing blue eyes soak in the beauty of the small Japanese town where he now lives, the quiet town resting its roots but miles from the city in which he works. His ocean colored eyes, viciously toned body and melodic voice tell a story of fearlessness.

“There are things I’ve learned over the years. Listen to me and you might learn it too.

“To truly enjoy life, you must never be afraid to live. You cannot panic when others disapprove of your actions. I believe people spend too much time on ‘what ifs,’ and let priceless opportunities pass by. Fear makes people worry about things that cannot be changed. It’s nothing but an oppressive obstacle preventing the fulfillment of dreams.”

Peering dangerously over the bustling city of Otsu below, he notices cherry blossoms beginning to open releasing their sweet, familiar fragrance near the small manicured pond where several golden-orange coy gracefully dance under the clear glassy surface. Though the blossoms only last for a few weeks, their beauty is unparalleled. Pausing for a long couple of minutes to take in the splendor of the moment, he becomes hypnotized by the rhythmic shifting and swaying of the Pacific Ocean. Feeling therapeutically relaxed, he almost loses his footing, only the calls of the nearby White-eyes stir his attention. His face remains calm and relaxed but his eyes intensely search the land below. Quietly and slowly his tender voice resumes.

“Me?

“I don’t feel fear. As a young boy, nothing scared me, not guns, blades, harsh words, not even death. There is nothing that frightens me. Because of this, I have done things no one else would think of trying. I have found these adventures were the times I felt most alive.”

Tottering like a tightrope walker on the edge of the fivestory building, his mind wanders while scanning the city beyond. He playfully shifts his feet back and forth among the edge, as if doing a dance of will against the wind. His converse clad feet seem steady beyond their capabilities, holding up the boy despite the breeze picking up.

Over the horizon, Kyoto’s shrines will be busy, surrounded by demanding spring tourists at this time of the day. The afternoon sun is shining beautifully and the air is warm. It is the perfect day for sightseeing.

“What is fear anyway? Are we taught how to be afraid, or does it just happen? Perhaps we are, perhaps we aren’t. I don’t really know. Maybe it’s simply a natural human instinct. Either way, people should push fear aside and find out what it is like to really live. Maybe, just maybe, they would try something new...they could begin to feel things again…and really feel alive. If people stopped letting society dictate to them what is right, what is wrong and simply made their own decisions for once, life might just be more rewarding!”

“I am Kazuko Hitori. My friends in America just call me Hitori. Tomorrow, I will be a junior in Nishidako high school. It feels so anomalous to be back in Japan after seven years of abstinence. Seven years seems like a world, and an eternity away now.

“I feel sure no one I once knew then will recognize me today.

“Seven years ago, I was a cute but chubby part-Asian, part- American lad. I had a round, full face with passionate blue eyes; obviously inherited from my father. Like most Japanese children, I tried not to draw attention to myself, wearing only the traditional unassuming clothes and uniforms expected of Asian students. My once silky dark brown hair hung loosely around my pudgy Asian face but was always a tint lighter than anyone else in my classes reminding everyone that I was different

“My blue eyes may be the only thing that has not changed over the years. Today, my hair, cobalt blue only interrupted with three black stripes, screams... LOOK AT ME! Several visible piercings adorn my portrait including a hoop in my lower lip, one in the left eyebrow and an assortment of piercings lining both ears. I pay special attention to my clothes these days, believing any and all store bought-clothes absolutely must be modified before being worn.

“Traditional school uniforms seem a joke to me now. Each shirt and jacket collar is now carefully re-worked by hand in order to insure they hang differently than my classmates. The required red tie is adorned with several safety pins for variety and amusement. Long sleeves absolutely must be rolled up and pinned back with extremely large decorative pins...like the ones meant for pinning kilts closed. My belt, purchased in America, serves two purposes. First, as a bottle opener and, second, as instructions for my date. It is a large buckle in the shape of a beer bottle opener with the words open here engraved on it. Around my neck are two necklaces I will never be caught without. One is a highly polished silver medallion while the other consists of a combination of silver and hematite chains twisted together, both hang perfectly in the hollow of my neck above the v-shaped neck opening of my shirt.”

Taking a deep breath before continuing, Hitori scratches the back of his head, and wrinkles his brow as unpleasant memories creep into his mind.

“Passing the NWEA tests in America was a challenge, but in Japan, other things will surely be more of a challenge. Administration allowing me to attend school with blue hair, piercings and a modified uniform... Well, that alone will be a battle. Authorities in Japan do not take kindly to individuality and will instantly blame it on the ‘uncivilized inbreeding’ of the American culture.

“I just hope my first day of school will be relatively uneventful and without much trouble. My hopes are to make some new friends and possibly reunite with some old ones. While the latter is doubtful, I take pleasure in the thought all the same.”

Now, only ten paces before him is a large teal painted door surrounded by tiny mosaic tile, both show wear from years of use and neglect. Hitori opens the door and returns to the world he knows, breaking free from his entrancement.