Kenken
Kenken arrived on New Year’s Eve 2003, while my previous romantic arrangements were collapsing in several locations at once. There was tequila, Ni-Chome and a smooch with a refreshing 28-year-old boy initially disguised as K**k**. I extended my Tokyo holiday one day at a time, then returned to MountainMouth all flustered. Within weeks K**k** had become KK, Kenken and “my friggin wonderboy boyfriend”. Being at opposite ends of Japan meant long phone calls, railway calculations, visits and a great deal of theatrical missing.
When Kenken came to MountainMouth, even the usual little places felt romantic: the beach, the dam, a rainy temple and graveyard, avocado, tuna and drinks with Kenji and Yoshika. We travelled through Korea, sleeping in cheap motels, hitching, arguing in fish markets and discovering that 2 boys could hold hands without anyone caring. Then came Lake Hibara, where we camped, kayaked, swam naked in icy water and cycled towards an onsen beneath the most amazing sunset. I remember the lost members-only “Fucking Beautiful” as the part where we took and cycled around the lake. Naturally, the internet preserved the coy advert and ate the important bit.
By July, Kenken had arrived for “the start of our life living together”. We packed up Japan, met each other’s families and left for Europe. In Portugal we actually had to live together: camping, flat-hunting, almost no money and the difficulty of remaining jovial 23 hours a day on a campsite floor. Eventually we found our quarto in Lisbon and built a life from art school, espresso, ferries, museums, drawing at Belém, leftover sushi and companionable Sundays doing almost nothing. We were not only dramatic or photogenic. We were genuinely good at spending our days together.
Portugal ended with us facing in opposite directions. Kenken wanted Europe and I wanted to move back towards Japan. I rashly applied for the Korean job against his instincts, and he followed me anyway. Within 2 or 3 weeks the relationship was over. From the airport island I dreamed of finding him again in Taiwan and discovered him waiting in photos, music, temples and cold Sundays. He returned briefly to Japan, then settled in Germany and eventually married a German artist. Apparently he was always destined to settle down with an artist, just not this one. Joa needed every place to become mythology. With Kenken, for a while, I stopped trying to invent home and simply had one.