AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone!

I should note that almost every place described here is a real one; I lived in Fukuoka for about a year and a half.

I ate so much ramen.

Kari wore a white sundress that mixed blindingly into the plaster wall behind her, like the stain of early morning light trapped in white curtains. Her face and neck and slender arms that had always looked so pale in contrast to the pink bars of her sweater now looked brown, vital and healthy, inside the bright cloud of fabric and plaster.

A memory overwhelmed Davis' brain with a strength and sweetness as if he had just taken a shot of whiskey. He'd known, from the moment he knew that she was different like himself, like the others, what form her powers would take; that she would be surrounded perpetually by a halo of angel feathers and cat's whiskers. It was like all first crushes, stories of first crushes he'd heard from friends both male and female over the years, who became everything assumed and anticipated about the opposite sex as if remembered from a previous life, and for a very long time he had managed to convince himself it was nothing more than that.

His jaw was hanging open and he must have looked ridiculous because she was laughing at him, trembling delicately with three fingertips pressed to her mouth. It was good to be laughed at sometimes, he thought.

"O h-hey, angel, I thought you were Kari.—Wait no, I mean Kari, I thought you were an angel."

Shit. Should have played it off as a joke. But she was laughing anyway, what did it matter?

"Very smooth, Motomiya. What's that you've got there?" She tipped her small chin. "Bringing your firstborn child to get blessed?"

The idea was so shocking—as if the child might be theirs—that it took him a moment to realize that the swaddled-up knives did look something like an infant, cradled in his arms.

"Jeez," he said, prying out one sharp blade with his fingertips that flashed in the light, "I sure hope not."

She laughed again.

"You know," she said, talking so quickly and animatedly as if they hadn't seen each other in a matter of minutes, not years, "you so haven't changed, but I'm not just saying that. It's like if I could draw a picture, or take a magic photograph of how I thought you'd look, it'd be just like you look."

Davis unconsciously let the bag fall slightly over his protruding belly.

"It's so weird," he answered in almost the instant she stopped talking, "cuz that's exactly how I feel about you.—But hey, what the heck're you doing here? I mean why didn't you get in touch if you were coming to town? I thought everyone knew I was down here…"

"Oh it was TK's idea. I think he wanted to surprise you. Or surprise himself, really, is more like it. You know he's an artist and he's got all these odd ideas about how we should experience things…"

The conversation, that had been flowing so rapidly, skidded to an uncomfortable halt. But after scratching the back of his neck, Davis picked up again:

"Um listen, it's super great to see you and all, but can we walk and talk? I kind of promised my partner I'd get these knives blessed. I mean not my partner partner. My business partner."

"Oh…don't tell me it's for the show! That ramen show thing. Oh, that is just adorable. Did you guys really come all the way out here?" But her eyes narrowed skeptically as they followed the long train of people waiting to approach the inner sanctum. "I'm no expert, but I get the feeling today might be some kind of holy day. It'll be practically an hour before you get to the front of that line."

"Oh. Yeesh, I bet you're right. Maybe the moon is in phase or it's the Buddha's birthday. Kugi would know about that kind of thing.—Kugiyama, that's my partner. He's real superstitious. It's funny, he's such a sarcastic guy, you can't tell if he's serious about it, but I kind of get the feeling he is…"

Kari snapped her fingers. A shrewd, sensible edge that he also remembered often hearing in her voice was creeping into it. "Tell you what. I said I'm no expert, but you know? My dad's cousin is a priest, and I don't know if you remember, but this one winter in college I worked as a shrine maiden at his place way out in Saitama prefecture. Just to make a little money…and get some fresh country air."

"You mean…?"

"Did they teach me how to bless knives?" She grinned. "Of course not. Who blesses knives? That's just silly. But whenever people would bring something to the temple, like their car, or maybe their cat or dog, my dad's cousin would just wave his hands over it for a couple of minutes. He'd look real serious too. Then he'd tell them it was done."

"Does that…?" Davis blinked slowly, feeling stupid. "I mean, does it work?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they thought it did, and that was good enough. So, watch."

With a businesslike dispatch she took the bang from him—he flinched slightly when her hand brushed his—held it close to her chest, with her eyes shut, and began to emit a very low-pitched humming noise deep in her chest. Davis watched, looking impressed. After a minute, she opened her big luminous eyes again and smiled.

"All done."

"Really?"

"Sure. Trust me," she winked, "I was a shrine maiden."

"Wow!" said Davis, without a hint of irony, "it sure is lucky I ran into you!" and Kari favored him with another smile, bemused, as if she could not decide whether he had failed to understand her, or had understood her perfectly.

A voice startled them both.

"Merciful gods, why did I trust this playboy with my business future?—Davis! Davis, what d'you think you're doing?"

"Oh—hey, Kugi! Y-you got it all wrong, this is an old friend of mine. Kari Kamiya. From Tokyo."

"Old girlfriend?"

"An old girl who is a friend, yeah. I-I mean an old friend who's a girl. Not that she's old."

"Pleasure to meet you." Kari stuck out her hand. "Davis told me so much about you."

Kugiyama looked mystified. "How could he have? You haven't been talking more than five minutes. Which reminds me…"

"Chill!" Davis held up his hands. "We took care of it, didn't we?"

And seeing the wide-open face of his friend, the most honest man he had ever met, Kugiyama had no choice but to mutter: "Really? Well…good job, then. False alarm about that foreigner, anyway. He was going, not coming." He shrank slightly. "I ah, didn't have the guts to talk to him in the end. But I think I heard one of his friends call him Marcel. What's that, German?"

"I think it's French," said Kari.

"Huh! Good thing we ran into you.—Oh. You're the one that guy was talking about. Same camera and everything"

"That guy, who?" said Davis.

"Nevermind now."

"Um, speaking of which," said Davis, "what the heck are you doing here, anyway?"

She patted the camera hanging around her neck. "It's a nice day. I thought I'd collect a few shots."

"That's cool. What about…y'know, him?"

TK stared at the cell phone lying on the desk. The lights in the hotel room were off, but it was a bright day and a white pool stood under the curtains. The phone cast a very faint shadow that sank into the water-like reflective surface of the black plastic desk, and the blur of his own head was visible nearby. He reached out and lifted it, turning it over like a flat stone in his palm, with a nonplussed expression on his face and in his tired eyes.

One missed call. He tapped the screen and redialed.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end of the line was a faint scratching noise. TK rocked his chair back, bracing one foot against the desk and, idly reaching out, picked up the red pen that came with the hotel stationary and stuck the end between his teeth.

"I saw you called," he said. "I just wondered what was up."

More faint speech. He pressed on his forehead, seeming to think.

"She's…fine. A little, oh. What's the word I'm looking for. Giddy. A little emotional, maybe. Which is not surprising after what she's been through. I think she's just relieved to be out of the big city. Yes…well, yeah, when you put it that way, I think it is doing her good.

"What's that?—Well—honestly, Tai. If you're that worried about her, I think maybe you should come down and look after her yourself. You decided you were okay with this, and to be honest? Maybe I'm not the best chaperon. I mean, I have some issues myself—no, I'm fine. At least for now. I'm just saying, remember how things used to be?"

He got up, balancing the phone against his shoulder, and pulled back the curtains. The dazzling light assaulted his weak eyes, and he quickly turned his head away.

"I always had to be on…you know? I always had to be the one smiling and…dancing around. You know what I mean. And that was easy when I was a kid, but maybe it's not so easy these days. And…maybe it's the same with Kari. Maybe she just got tired of what other people expected of her. I think you should give her some space, Tai…and I'm going to try and do the same."