{"id":203,"date":"2016-06-03T16:11:45","date_gmt":"2016-06-03T20:11:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/?p=27"},"modified":"2026-05-18T17:32:34","modified_gmt":"2026-05-18T21:32:34","slug":"silent-stone-a-novel-by-yuko-grover","status":"publish","type":"portfolio","link":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/portfolio-item\/silent-stone-a-novel-by-yuko-grover\/","title":{"rendered":"Silent Stone: A Novel by Yuko Grover"},"content":{"rendered":"

“Silent Stone” follows the adventures of Emi, a young Japanese woman, and her struggle for self-realization in postmodern Japan. “Silent Stone” explores the challenge of ever-changing social and cultural values, and the generation battle of East vs. West.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Excerpt: Chapter 7: The\u00a0Past as a Foreign Country <\/strong><\/h3>\n

It was two weeks after the staff party that I heard the news of Noriko\u2019s engagement to someone whose name no one had heard of. \u00a0The news immediately spread as if it were a long-waited special event stirring our neighborhood; it generated such energetic pulse among our neighbors, who normally would keep friendly distance from one another. \u00a0It was far more than noticeable, and caused almost paranormally surreal experience for me whenever I saw my neighbors actually talking to one another. \u00a0Despite this overwhelming phenomena, Noriko\u2019s family kept themselves unaffected, and rather seemed quite happy, with the wedding plan undergoing in quite hasting pace. \u00a0Since there was no way of communication between Noriko and I, the arrival of the news struck me with the feelings of both sheer surprise and bitter-sweet sadness: the jolly image of her at the staff party, dancing along with her \u2018gaijin\u2019 boyfriend, quickly vanished as an unwanted memory, obsolete now, in a nostalgic sepia color.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe made it on time,\u201d Mrs. Sato, one of our neighbors, announced to a small group of neighbors, whom all huddling like school children at a field trip, curious and inquisitive look on their faces. \u00a0Auntie, standing at the edge of the circle, moved her head dubiously, its tilted angle suggested her position was unclear: whether she was agreeing with her neighbor\u2019s opinion, or not. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI may sound old-fashioned, but a woman should marry at a right age. \u00a0It\u2019s not just a woman would become older and undesirable; but simply, there is a serious problem of scarcity in nice, healthy, committed men as we age. \u00a0So naturally, if she missed this timing, then it\u2019d be \u2018never or forever\u2019—it just becomes impossible to find someone proper.\u201d<\/p>\n

Auntie\u2019s face increasingly turned uncomfortable. \u00a0Obviously, Mrs. Sato didn\u2019t know that Auntie was one of those who missed the timing—she married to a sick man in her late forty\u2019s, filling the role of his 24 hour-shift caretaker until his death two years later. \u00a0As soon as he died, his family all turned against her, as they basically didn\u2019t want to share their only son\u2019s inheritance with her. \u00a0She returned home soon after, but kept her new surname, a proof that she was at least once married. \u00a0The idea of marriage often muddled me: marrying someone I don\u2019t know at the prime time of my youth, or marrying someone just for the formality so that the public would acknowledge me as a socially acceptable citizen.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey are moving to America, right after the wedding. \u00a0Her husband-to-be is a senior engineer at Honda, you know? \u00a0He just received the transfer notice four months ago. \u00a0No wonder the wedding is happening so quickly\u2026 \u00a0His parents must be so relieved to send him off with a wife. \u00a0It\u2019ll be hard on him if he lived alone in an unfamiliar place!\u201d \u00a0Mrs. Sato\u2019s impassioned speech caused a stir in the small crowd, as many of them nodded their heads in a strange unison. Except Auntie. \u00a0She rather staunchly removed herself from the rest and said,<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, sorry to interrupt, but we must go now. \u00a0I have to take my mother to a doctor this afternoon. \u00a0But, thank you for letting us informed, anyway. \u00a0We\u2019ll be quite prepared for attending their wedding reception in three weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Auntie turned around and grabbed my arm, urging to leave the circle of our neighbors, whose bewildered eyes followed our every movement, as if they were bewitched foolishly, didn\u2019t realize till this moment that someone standing next to them were actually a mega-lottery winner to attend this much talked about wedding.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, are we invited to\u2026?\u201d \u00a0I looked into Auntie\u2019s face and whispered, while trying hard to catch up with her brisk march off to our building. \u00a0I felt quite fool as I couldn\u2019t still figure out exactly what she had just said.<\/p>\n

\u201cActually\u2026\u201d stopped Auntie for a moment, gathering her thoughts together, and continued, \u201cyour grandmother was the one who received the invitation for the wedding reception, but she immediately declined it, saying that she wouldn\u2019t want to go alone as she might need a physical assistance. \u00a0Then, they added my name on the invitation out of consideration for your grandmother\u2019s concern, but your grandmother still doesn\u2019t want to go. \u00a0So, most likely, you and I will be ended up attending the reception, just to keep a good neighborly relationship of past twenty years. \u00a0Do you mind?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI, I don\u2019t mind\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Or was I given any choice? \u00a0I had to swallow the second thought.<\/p>\n

I did, in fact, mind it very much, I corrected myself. \u00a0The surge of regret welled up every time I took a deep breath. \u00a0I couldn\u2019t possibly imagine myself facing Noriko, pretending not to know all about her recent love affair, which was still fully alive a few weeks ago, as far as I observed. \u00a0What happened to Anthony, anyway?<\/p>\n

\u201cNoriko surely made a good decision. \u00a0It is time for her to settle; she\u2019s twenty-seven years old, you know? \u00a0She can\u2019t go on living so wild any longer\u2026\u201d \u00a0Auntie locked my gaze with her imploring eyes, while her hand was busily reaching for the house key in her purse.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd, please don\u2019t tell any neighbors about who\u2019s attending the wedding reception from our family. \u00a0I don\u2019t want us to be any kind of gossip subjects, okay?\u201d \u00a0I nodded slightly, desperately waited for the front door to be opened.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Grandma\u2019s weak voice greeted us once we entered inside. \u00a0Both Auntie and I were more than ready to settle in our own nest; yet the inquisitive tone of Grandma\u2019s voice somehow suggested that one of us should elaborate our daily report for her, whether it\u2019s being weather or special sales at a local grocery store. \u00a0She\u2019s been sick and resting in her futon for past a few days.<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone is talking about the big wedding. \u00a0They even seem to know every detail of its plan, Mother. \u00a0Are you sure you really want to miss it? \u00a0There\u2019s still time to change your mind, you know?\u201d \u00a0\u00a0Auntie made sure to articulate each word, so that she would not give Grandma any chance to ignore her, using a senior excuse of weak and selective hearing ability. \u00a0\u201cMother, are you listening?\u201d \u00a0Auntie pressed her cheek against Grandma\u2019s sliding door in order to deliver her message more directly. \u00a0Her voice vibrated against delicate silk-screen, as if it were drilling.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo\u2026\u201d \u00a0Grandma\u2019s voice sounded still weak, yet her answer was definite. \u00a0\u201cAs I said before, I\u2019m not going. \u00a0I\u2019m too old for that sort of thing\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yes, that old age! \u00a0It sounds quite deathly to me, indeed\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

I lingered around the foyer a little longer, aghast. \u00a0I could not think of any physical space at all for hiding my existence so that I did not have to know what would happen next. \u00a0Would it be cruel to imagine how Auntie\u2019s mannerism was like when she was much younger? \u00a0Did she behave to Grandma in this questionable way I witnessed now?<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be joining into the \u2018past\u2019 population, sooner or later!\u201d<\/p>\n

Grandma was already in her late eighty\u2019s. \u00a0She survived three wars, extreme poverty after those wars, loss of two of her six children, and on top of them, an alcoholic husband, who was often abusive to her. \u00a0And now, could she possibly resolve this perpetual conflict with her own daughter at this late age? \u00a0The situation seemed awfully unfair, given how much she went through. \u00a0It seemed as if something never changed for her for quite a long time: only if I could learn what exactly was its root cause so that I would better understand the origin of such unhappiness.<\/p>\n

\u201cWasn\u2019t it Buddha who said, \u2018kill the will to kill\u2019?\u201d \u00a0To my surprise, those words slipped out from my mouth, not even quite sure, whether or not, it was appropriate to the context of what I was facing in front of me. \u00a0And yet, there followed a significant amount of silence from both rooms—I then took it as a cease-fire, at least for now.<\/p>\n

Contained quietness lasted quite a while in our small apartment, each of us cautiously guarding our own territory. \u00a0None of us seemed to know what kind of action was needed next; somehow I didn\u2019t feel quite right to be the first one to break this silence. \u00a0It appeared to me that we all should just surrender to tomorrow, at one o\u2019clock in the afternoon. \u00a0Tomorrow would be another day, as if nothing happened, I would hope. \u00a0Or even, tomorrow everything might change: Grandma and Auntie sitting at a table and having some tea together. \u00a0Wouldn\u2019t that be nice?<\/p>\n

The silence, which was about to grow into irreplaceable comfort for all of us, was suddenly disrupted, when a cacophonic sound of doorbell screeched like an air-raid siren.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho could that be?\u201d \u00a0Auntie rushed out from her room, and swiftly unlocked the door.<\/p>\n

I deliberately stayed in my room for extra minutes, unwilling to join the battlefield again so quickly. \u00a0Grandma probably felt the same way, as she didn\u2019t make any motions for this unexpected visitor.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh? \u00a0What a surprise\u2026\u201d \u00a0Auntie\u2019s voice didn\u2019t reveal her state of surprise as much, yet rather it suggested the tone of yielding into a circumstance. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI hope you don\u2019t mind that I\u2019m stopping by. \u00a0I \u00a0just happened to be in this neighborhood.\u201d \u00a0The unexpected visitor had well-controlled manner of speech that didn\u2019t give us any clues for his intention of this surprise visit.<\/p>\n

\u201cMother, it\u2019s Takao\u2026 \u00a0He\u2019s JUST stopping by!\u201d<\/p>\n

Whether or not Grandma heard the initial exchange between Auntie and Uncle Takao, Grandma didn\u2019t respond to their hastiness; she, instead, made a slow, dignified entrance to the scene, as I witnessed just in time, coming out from my own room.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Takao san, you should\u2019ve called us before you decided simply to show up without asking us—you shouldn\u2019t assume that we are always available to you. \u00a0In fact, I have to leave for my doctor\u2019s appointment in very short time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I didn\u2019t know\u2026 \u00a0Sorry for the intrusion. \u00a0I just\u2026\u201d \u00a0Uncle Takao\u2019s body stiffened as he tried to shield himself from this oppressive atmosphere we were all in. \u00a0His aged face made a meek, apologetic smile, which made me wonder if he ever aged at all in Grandma\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou may stay for some tea; and maybe assist me to the doctor\u2019s office afterwards, if you can. \u00a0Come just right in for now.\u201d \u00a0The verdict was bestowed; and we all followed her into Auntie\u2019s room, squeezing ourselves into the space, which was only one large enough to accommodate all of us.<\/p>\n

While Grandma was changing into outing clothes in her room, Auntie and Uncle Takao relaxed themselves and started to discuss about some issues in the manner only familiar to them, which immediately excluded my presence. \u00a0I constantly heard \u201cthe thing we talked the other day\u2019 and \u201cthe thing that we need to deal with right away.\u201d \u00a0As the conversation grew increasingly abstract, I became uneasy, slowly and finally catching the signal toward me that I should just leave them alone. \u00a0Not sensing the signal earlier was embarrassing enough, making me appear like an unwanted object in the room. \u00a0Thus, by the time they poured their third cups of tea, I decided to politely excuse myself, feeling awfully awkward, and trotted into my room.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll let you know when we\u2019re leaving,\u201d Auntie\u2019s assuring voice followed me behind as I closed the sliding door to my room. \u00a0The door bounced back defiantly, though, letting itself ajar.<\/p>\n

Eavesdropping in this house was equivalent with listening to a radio talk show: I could hear quite easily what\u2019s been said, though I was not a part of conversing. \u00a0I didn\u2019t mind to be an audience, since it would give me different perspectives on Grandma and Auntie—the way they normally conducted their manner of talking, what they seemed to emphasize on or value most. \u00a0Just to learn a little better of whom they were, that were different from what I observed when they were in public. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But that day, Auntie and Uncle Takao were discussing something rather alarming, I didn\u2019t even know if Grandma could hear them uttering the words such as \u2018relocation,\u2019 \u2018demolition,\u2019 and \u2018loss of home again.\u2019 \u00a0The way they talked, without Grandma, didn\u2019t sound secretive, considering the subject matter, but it was rather protective. \u00a0They didn\u2019t want Grandma to know the possibility of losing her home now, which she has resided since she moved to Tokyo area from Kyushu, the Southern part of Japan, soon after the end of WW II.<\/p>\n

\u201cI must say, the war did make sense much more than this non-sense! \u00a0Who would want to cause such a trouble of rebuilding old subsidizing housings, if not absolutely necessary? \u00a0Waste of money and time, I would say.\u201d \u00a0Auntie\u2019s voice grew one scale higher, hitting the most dramatic note I\u2019d ever heard from her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t go that far\u2026 \u00a0I mean, they said that this building is quite getting old, reaching the considerable level of life-threatening danger. \u00a0Who could argue with that?\u201d \u00a0Uncle Takao, a professor of Engineering, argued quietly, in a self-asserting manner.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, you sound quite blindfolded,\u201d snapped Auntie, with a slight bang on the table. \u00a0\u201cThat\u2019s what \u2018they\u2019 said, you see? \u00a0You shouldn\u2019t be so na\u00efve. \u00a0If they are going to shut this building for a while, they should find us a replacement. \u00a0They can\u2019t just say sorry and kick us out!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell actually, they can certainly do that, you know?\u201d<\/p>\n

The conversation was interrupted when Grandma\u2019s sliding door slid open effortlessly, allowing her to announce that she was ready to leave the house. \u00a0The quick locomotion of Auntie and Uncle Takao busily shifted from where they sat to the doorway, ready to follow Grandma\u2019s order with such impeccable readiness.<\/p>\n

I chose not to come out from my room (who would care?), while they all exited out to the door. \u00a0For the moment, I refrained myself to say any good-byes from where I was, hoping they would think I was sleeping. \u00a0Auntie said something like, \u2018make sure the door is locked,\u2019 toward my room, but really, nothing more. \u00a0Grandma and Auntie both reminded each other if they had everything they needed; while Uncle Takao quietly waiting, probably holding the door for them. \u00a0Soon the noise traveled to the other side of the door, which, in turn, let the quietness come inside.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The house Grandma\u2019s family lived didn\u2019t exist anymore, my father had once told me. \u00a0\u00a0They had to leave it behind during the war as the blood-shedding battle spread into the town they lived. \u00a0They couldn\u2019t even keep a photo of it either, he said, because they had to bury all their valuable belongings underground in order to avoid the troop officers who would snatch those away and, most likely, destroy them with sadistic pleasure. \u00a0All his family hoped to go back to Manchuria and retrieve them one day; but they never set their foot on the land again, just as a colony of Manchuria vanished from a map after the war ended. As he spoke, his eyes sank into the darkest part of his memory, like those of a little boy whose most favorite toys were stolen away.<\/p>\n

What do you remember about the house? \u00a0I had to ask. \u00a0It was a part of my school assignment, after all.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t remember the exact image of the whole house, to be honest, he said. \u00a0Most of the memories of the house remained in him rather fragmented, mosaic like discontinuous harmony, each glued together in an accidental order. \u00a0He couldn\u2019t even recall whether he had his own desk or not, but he surely remembered that he always fought with his two older sisters whom he shared a room with, for the window side futon to sleep in at night, as he was fond of looking for the moon in the blackest sky. He would tell his own father next morning whenever he saw the clearest moon the night before. \u00a0He liked to do that a lot, because that was one of very few topics that his father seemed to have liked to share with him. \u00a0He said his father often lamented a lot about utterly monotonous moon in the in-land sky, as he preferred the moon over the calm ocean, which would reflect the moon\u2019s bright silvery face on the billows encompassing further out, its shape constantly changing with the rhythm of ebb and flow, accompanied by the crash of sleepy waves— a lullaby he grew up with.<\/p>\n

My father could never figure out whether or not his father ever liked the life in an unfamiliar place.<\/p>\n

Moving out to Manchuria from his native Japan itself seemed quite unconventional decision at the first place. \u00a0My father said his father (my grandfather), being extraordinarily ambitious and visionary, launched off to the new land to start out a trading business—the huge risk, it must have been, to venture out to the unknown. \u00a0My father still looked proud of his father\u2019s bravery, even after he himself turned sixty. \u00a0The details of his family\u2019s adventure were, however, not much shared among the rest of us, including my generation, long after they settled back in Japan. \u00a0No one seemed to talk about them. \u00a0My uncles, aunt, and even grandma almost intentionally concealed this part of their lives, as if they left them behind with their treasured memories buried underneath of foreign soil.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

That night, Grandma and Auntie came home later than I expected, though I had no clue what exact time they did. \u00a0I had gone already to get something to eat, which surely made them a little unsettling, as they didn\u2019t find me when they arrived home. \u00a0I desperately needed a fresh air to cast off some disturbing thoughts: Noriko san\u2019s express-wedding engagement, Grandma\u2019s possible loss of her home,… \u00a0I felt rather profoundly muddled, not knowing where to stand.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo tell me, what did you have for dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

Auntie\u2019s interrogating voice greeted me at the door when I got home. \u00a0I had suspected this would happen—they would get home earlier than I—but, foolishly enough I didn\u2019t think of how to handle the case, if it would actually happen.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I just bought some rice balls from Seven Eleven\u2026\u201d \u00a0Which was true; and they were exactly what I wanted for dinner tonight.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not enough! \u00a0Why didn\u2019t you fix something from the fridge? \u00a0We have plenty of supply,\u201d snapped Auntie, razor-sharply, never allowing me even a slight chance of defending myself in any ways. \u00a0She went on, \u201cDon\u2019t waste your money to buy things we already have! \u00a0Rice balls? \u00a0You can make your own so easily! \u00a0You\u2019re being such a fool!\u201d \u00a0And she dropped a deep sigh—a blow that could throw me into the whirlpool of gushing guilt.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou should think twice, or even three or four times for your case, before you decide to spend your money. \u00a0Not even just that, you should reflect what you are doing NOW; you are not in college, or working with a real job—what are you going to do with that? \u00a0How long are you planning to live like a moron at your young age? \u00a0You should be doing something more constructive. \u00a0Don\u2019t be a fool!\u201d<\/p>\n

This \u2018should\u2019 word would not allow me to have moments of a third or fourth thinking as Auntie preached; it would rather confine me instantly in a place where I had no choice but to obey what the word would insinuate. \u00a0I would be chained to something other than my own thinking, deflated into nothing, until it made me believe that having one\u2019s own original thinking, after all, would be a waste of time and money.<\/p>\n

\u201cI, I have my own plan. \u00a0It\u2019s just that I can\u2019t afford it right now.\u201d \u00a0As I said so, I felt infinitely being fool.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell it sounds, now is the good time for you to reflect on it very seriously.\u201d<\/p>\n

Auntie\u2019s firmness was impossible to break through, after all. \u00a0She would still live up to her reputation she earned as a military head nurse during WW II. \u00a0How come a woman like her was not regarded as a good female model, rather than a tragic figure? \u00a0Why do a woman need to marry, anyway? \u00a0Would that be because of her biological feature, which was intended to procreate off springs? \u00a0That wouldn\u2019t guarantee her happiness, necessarily. \u00a0But having choices also made women in general become more confused about their own value, I would say, since we always have to place ourselves in a position where \u2018as supposed to,\u2019 constantly reflecting the choices we made a day ago, and almost never completely satisfied with our own decisions, feeling as if we missed something by choosing one. \u00a0Is this what I expect in my future?<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must plan ahead\u2026never know what\u2019ll happen in your future. \u00a0You just have to be prepared, that is all you can do.\u201d \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat is\u2026all I can\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

And that would be quite unfortunate, if she was right. \u00a0She made it, all in all, sound as if it were a prepackaged deal targeted to those who were amateurs in life (like myself, I guess). \u00a0But it didn\u2019t sound resonate with me—this idea of my future promisingly secured, if I set myself in the path of \u2018life planning,\u2019 so called. \u00a0It sounded dreadfully equivalent with a tale of salary man, who would seek nothing, but pre-made security in his life, placing himself in the orbit of routine and the predictable. \u00a0It would be such a living death, if you let a twenty-year-old girl fall into the trap!! \u00a0If I ever desperately need to plan something, then, I would rather choose a life, which Noriko san just did—to marry someone, who could, at least, take me somewhere unknown.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you hear what I said? \u00a0You look confused, or probably don\u2019t believe me at all. \u00a0But, this is the very important lesson I learned from my life so far. \u00a0So bear it in your mind,\u201d said Auntie, shifting her attention to her ledger book, which she entered every single expense, every single day. \u00a0My father used to joke about this almost religious belief of her meticulous planning, pointing out that she may be secretly saving up to operate an \u2018alternative retirement plan,\u2019 which no one in her family should know. \u00a0I started to wonder if I was witnessing a piece of such scheme.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to learn from history,\u201d exclaimed Auntie, her attention unaltered with determination, \u201dOtherwise, it repeats itself!\u201d \u00a0Her voice quivered a little, but her fingers reassuringly hit the numbers on her calculator.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess so\u2026\u201d \u00a0I stopped for a moment to figure out what she exactly meant. \u00a0But soon enough, my eyes caught the invitation card rested on top of the bookshelf; then my mind slowly drifted to the thought of what I should wear at Noriko san\u2019s wedding, which would take place in three weeks.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Excerpt: Chapter 7: The Past as a Foreign Country<\/p>\n

It was two weeks after the staff party that I heard the news of Noriko\u2019s engagement to someone whose name no one had heard of. \u00a0The news immediately spread as if it were a long-waited special event stirring our neighborhood; it generated such energetic pulse among our neighbors, who normally would keep friendly distance from one another. \u00a0It was far more than noticeable, and caused almost paranormally surreal experience for me whenever I saw my neighbors actually talking to one another. \u00a0Despite this overwhelming phenomena, Noriko\u2019s family kept themselves unaffected, and rather seemed quite happy, with the wedding plan undergoing in quite hasting pace. \u00a0Since there was no way of communication between Noriko and I, the arrival of the news struck me with the feelings of both sheer surprise and bitter-sweet sadness: the jolly image of her at the staff party, dancing along with her \u2018gaijin\u2019 boyfriend, quickly vanished as an unwanted memory, obsolete now, in a nostalgic sepia color.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe made it on time,\u201d Mrs. Sato, one of our neighbors, announced to a small group of neighbors, whom all huddling like school children at a field trip, curious and inquisitive look on their faces. \u00a0Auntie, standing at the edge of the circle, moved her head dubiously, its tilted angle suggested her position was unclear: whether she was agreeing with her neighbor\u2019s opinion, or not. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"tags":[6,7,8,10,11],"portfolio_entries":[],"class_list":["post-203","portfolio","type-portfolio","status-publish","hentry","tag-academic","tag-japanese","tag-new-york-city","tag-silent-stone","tag-translation"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/portfolio\/203","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/portfolio"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/portfolio"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=203"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/portfolio\/203\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":352,"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/portfolio\/203\/revisions\/352"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=203"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=203"},{"taxonomy":"portfolio_entries","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yukogrover.com\/ja\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/portfolio_entries?post=203"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}