LeBlanc

[der meister 3,346]

               “For real!?” Toronto Legion defenseman Ryuji Sakamoto’s voice echoes around the café. I imagine it would have drawn a number of curious or startled looks from patrons, had there been any present. We’ve been in Tokyo for less than a day, and Sakamoto made a beeline for this curious coffee shop with an oddly French name, somewhat off the beaten path. Along with coffee, it serves, of all things, curry. A peculiar blend of spices wafts through the air, occasionally cutting through scents permeating from the assortment of freshly-ground beans.

 

               Sakamoto is talking to the café's owner, a man roughly my own age who Sakamoto refers to simply as "Boss". An unnerving thought crosses my mind that this café may be a front for the Yakuza, the Japanese mafia, but I dismiss it quickly when I consider what Sakamoto's role would be in an organization like that.

 

               The chime above the door rings as it swings open, revealing a tall, tragically thin boy with long, straight hair that partially obscures an eye. The boy hesitates at the door, studying a painting of a woman just inside the entrance, before approaching Sakamoto. For his part, Sakamoto immediately bounds to his feet with an exclaimed, "Yusuke! Futaba!"

 

               I look again, confused at the second name, and behind the boy identified as Yusuke, I see a girl with large glasses and unmistakable red hair, her lack of height noteworthy even for Japan. I watch silently as Ryuji rushes the pair and hugs both of them. I notice the man known as Boss smiling affectionately at the girl with the red hair – Futaba? – in a fatherly way.

 

               Watching Sakamoto’s interactions with his friends, the carefree air that surrounds the young man is noteworthy. Much of the time I’ve spent with him during this embedded series has been spent at the rink or traveling to the next rink. He’s gritty, determined, crass, and sometimes downright unpleasant to be around with his attitude. He’s also a hard worker, a good teammate, and an emotional leader on the ice. Here, though, I’m reminded that, although he just completed his VHL rookie season, he’s still very  much a boy at heart, though one with more money than I think he could have ever imagined. One thing is for certain – the money hasn’t changed the person, and I’m relieved to see it.

 

               A few more minutes pass before Sakamoto suddenly recalls my presence and awkwardly introduces me. Futaba, it turns out, is Boss’s adopted daughter, while the tall, anguished looking young man, Yusuke, is a painter, and apparently a very talented one at that. Both of Sakamoto’s friends greet me respectfully, though I can sense their sudden discomfort in my presence. For my part, I simply respond, “Pleasure to meet you. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.” My Japanese isn’t particularly strong, but I can at least give basic greetings. They both seem surprised at the greeting from a Gaijin, and I smile inwardly before turning back to Boss and inquiring as to the ingredients in the curry. He taps his nose and winks at me, and I know that’s as much of an answer as I’ll ever get.