Kemvee (*AO3*/users/Kemvee, Kemvee on Tumblr) drew a fanart for this chapter, which I am eternally grateful for! Find the art at isk4649.*TUMBLR*/post/650735504000679936

TRIGGER WARNING! Some references to substance abuse and interpersonal violence.

It took much longer than Cullen had initially thought to get to Kawasaki.

At least he didn't have to transfer once he was on the train heading north. It was an hour from Yokosuka Station to Shin-Kawasaki Station. Perfect time to indulge in his secret hobby, which was reading. He pulled up the reader app on his phone and picked up where he left off.

A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers by Xiaolu Guo. The protagonist Z, a Chinese student living in London, just met an older Englishman at the movies. Cullen always made sure to thoroughly read the descriptions and several reviews before purchasing a book. He knew Z would soon fall in love with this man and move into his flat.

Cullen tried to ignore the intrusive thought that this book, or even the fact that he was reading this book in particular, somehow portended his future. With Tharin.

But as the train approached nearer and nearer to Tharin's place, Cullen had an even harder time concentrating on the written words. All he could think about was the fact that he was going on a date for the first time in years.

And what a conundrum it was to choose what to wear. The night before, Cullen rummaged through his sparse closet like a madman, looking for the outfit that was just right. He decided on a jet gray Henley shirt, a pair of slim-fitted battleship gray chinos, and white Converse.

Tokyo and its environs at the end of May were already quite humid, so he had the sleeves rolled up, exposing his veiny, muscular forearms. He had no intention of showing off his arms. Not even a little.

His train reached the destination at 1703. They were supposed to meet at 1730, so he was far too early.

Yet when he walked up the stairs to the main hall of the station, he immediately saw.

It must have been hard not to stand out for Tharin Trevelyan, not just because he was literally the only non-Japanese person other than Cullen at the station, but also because he was a sculpture of a man.

The twenty-three-year-old man was youthful, but not callow. His nose, which was inexplicably the first thing Cullen noticed, was perfectly shaped like those of antiquities at the Met. The ones he had seen in a fancy coffee table book a long time ago.

In fact, his entire face was formed in the pleasing way that Greek philosophers might exalt. His eyebrows were thick and straight, framing the cobalt blue eyes beautifully. There hung a soft smile on incarnadine lips that accentuated the high cheekbones and showed off the evenly spaced, unstained teeth.

All the features were gorgeously framed on the top by onyx locks side-parted and slicked, which could have been trite in 2021 if not for the fact that its owner was a ridiculously handsome man. On the bottom was the strong jaw that showed off raven stubble.

Tharin's body was pleasantly muscular, none of the bodybuilder nonsense that went so far overboard. He wore a Prussian blue polo shirt with beige linen shorts. The muscles bulged in those clothes in the manner that Cullen enjoyed, discreetly of course. Broad shoulders and thick limbs, along with the face that was actually godlike. Jesus, he was cute.

As Cullen approached slowly, admiring the man silently, Tharin looked struck. Wondering what had happened to the man, Cullen went up and extended his right hand. Tharin grasped the hand and suavely pulled Cullen into a bear hug.

"Hi, I'm Tharin," said the young man in a baritone.

"I-I'm Cullen. Nice to make your acquaintance." Cullen felt awkward, but not in a bad way. Ordinarily, he would react to an unwarranted hug like this by wriggling himself free, but for whatever reason he did not feel the need to recoil from Tharin.

In any case, they soon broke from the embrace, and each stared off into the distance. That seemed like the appropriate response as the initial excitement began to taper off.

"You are…" Tharin began, only to clear his throat. He continued in a tone that seemed curiously unsure, "I hope you don't mind if we walk a bit. There's an izakaya that I frequent. Thought we could go there for an early dinner?"

Cullen could not stop his lips from upturning. He simply said, "Lead on."

First dates were uncomfortable. They always were.

Cullen remembered the last first date he went on and grimaced. It was stateside. The girl he went out with actually called him boring and left in the middle of the dinner, which sadly wasn't the first time. It had been years, but it still stung.

But once they walked downhill from the train station and began to stroll through Tharin's neighborhood, Cullen felt much more at ease. The young man was chatty, pointing out miniscule details that might have gone unnoticed if not for him.

Cullen was just glad to be with Tharin, content to listen to him chirp excitedly.

After they crossed a large intersection, they entered an area with tallish apartment complexes that were cement gray and adorned with champagne-colored tiles. They were hidden behind manicured topiaries that seemed completely out of place. "I live just around a corner from here."

"Oh, did you need us to go up to your place?"

Tharin fell silent. Cullen realized how his words may be interpreted as a come-on and felt his face flush.

Was it too tasteless to insinuate his desire to have sex on the first date, even if unintentionally? It really had been years since Cullen dated, but even he could tell that such crass move would not be welcome. Thankfully, the young man turned around and cleared the air with a wide smile, "Nah, I'm good. We're not too far from the izakaya."

They crossed a bridge over a river, the level of which looked lower than it was supposed to be. Cullen could see a continuous line of darker shade on the concrete blocks marking the previous water level above the current one. This spring has been rather dry, Cullen thought, not that he had any previous experience with a Japanese spring or summer.

Tharin was unconcerned with the water level as he pointed to the embankments and cheerfully said, "I like walking around those footpaths. It clears my mind." With the world doused in warm light from the afternoon sun as though a veil had descended upon it and the water reflecting the beam in countless dots of opalescence, even the artificial embankments and banal Japanese houses with tiled roofs seemed beautiful and special.

As they put the bridge behind them, it felt like they were going further and further into the residential area. Roads turned into alleyways, barely wide enough for two cars.

The weather had been abnormally warm for a few days. Despite enjoying Tharin's company enormously already, Cullen was starting to feel sweaty and thirsty. He wiped his brow subtly, hoping it wasn't too obvious that he was being a lumbering, sweaty white American stereotype. On the other hand, the young man appeared to be perfectly content, which was fairly irritating.

But then, there it was. The izakaya. Surrounded by two-story houses all around, the izakaya had a little lighted sign in front of its door that had KUMI written on it in Chinese calligraphy and in English. In fact, it looked like the first floor of someone's regular house.

Tharin opened the sliding door and went in. Cullen followed in hurriedly. He was met with a wall of cool air as he entered. Ah, air conditioning. The wonder of human progress.

Inside was a tiny space dominated by yellow-brown wooden panels. To be honest, they did not look all that unique or fashionable, the same as any other franchise restaurants that dotted the metropolis. There were no tables, just the bar occupied by one customer. A middle-aged Japanese woman, clearly the mistress of the place, was standing behind the counter, her face breaking out in a smile that didn't seem completely genuine.

Tharin bowed lightly and greeted the mistress in Japanese. Cullen felt compelled to imitate Tharin and bowed as well.

The only other customer turned around to face Tharin and Cullen. It was another foreigner, having an omakase sashimi plate for supper. She was in a simple mustard yellow jumpsuit, looking stylish in that distinctly haute couture way. Her skin was tan and smooth, and her curly black hair was pinned to a tight bun.

Her face broke out in a delight as she shouted in a thick Spanish accent, "Tharin! What are you doing here?"

Tharin halted so suddenly that Cullen almost bumped into his back. Cullen walked around to find the hulking man completely flustered. The young man stuttered, "Uh-um… Just here for dinner and some drinks, Josie."

Intrigued by this development, Cullen greeted the woman and extended his hand, "Hello. I'm Cullen."

This "Josie" woman took his hand and shook it quite firmly. There was a glimmer of recognition in her eyes as she introduced herself, "Josefina Montilyet, but please call me Josie. All my friends do. It is indeed very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Cullen Rutherford." Did I mention my last name? Cullen thought, feeling somehow naked. She turned to Tharin, put her left hand against her cheek, and stage-whispered, "You didn't tell me how pretty he is."

Cullen furrowed his brow and looked to Tharin, who looked like he was about to die from unmitigated embarrassment. He asked, "How do you know Tharin?"

Josie chortled blithely, "From this izakaya, of course. I live near here."

"Ah, so you two are neighbors."

"Precisely," nodded the woman.

They all sat down at the bar. Cullen on the left side, Tharin in the middle, and Josie on the right. She slid her plate and her drink over, clear in her intent to stay and chat with them.

Josie leaned toward Cullen and asked with an inflection that didn't seem natural, "So… How's it going?"

Cullen wasn't entirely sure how to answer that. But the woman seemed to know that they were on a date. So, he just answered plainly with a faint grin, "It's going well. Tharin's a great guy."

The young man, however, was not amused. He soughed, all the while eyeing at Josie disapprovingly, and stated, "I apologize for Josie. In addition to being a bigwig at the Spanish Embassy, she is a huge busybody."

"Excuse me, I am the Economic and Commercial Affairs Attaché, thank you very much. And I'm also the one who introduced you to all the watering holes around Kawasaki and Minato Ward. I think I deserve to know some things about your… personal life," winked the woman in the least subtle manner possible. Cullen felt his face flush.

The young man rolled his eyes extravagantly. "Alright, don't you have your dinner to finish? The sashimi's getting colder."

To this rather unfriendly invitation to get lost, Josie kept chortling. She twittered gleefully, "Remember, I'm just a seat away from you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

When Josie finally redirected her attention to the sashimi plate and sake in front of her, Tharin began to talk to the mistress of the establishment in rapid Japanese.

As they conversed, Cullen got the chance to observe the mistress at a close range. Her skin was shiny and free of blemishes despite the wrinkles that came with the middle age. It was not quite youthful enough to belie her years. Her long hair was swept into a ponytail with a navy-blue bandana holding everything in place.

Her demeanor was charming, as service sector workers usually were, and she began to laugh good-naturedly. She turned to Cullen and spoke, "Za-rin furendo, mai furendo tsu."

Cullen understood the word "furendo" as friend. He grinned politely and extended his right hand. The woman gripped with her right hand and caressed his knuckles with her left. Strange way to shake hands, Cullen thought facetiously.

After withdrawing her hands, the woman pointed to her nose with her index finger and spoke, "Kumiko."

Cullen realized that it was her name on the restaurant. Feeling proud of himself for managing to put two and two together, he patted his chest and said, "Cullen." The woman beamed once again.

After Cullen and Kumiko exchanged perhaps five more seconds of wordless, gesture-based pleasantries, Tharin looked straight at the woman and began to speak in Japanese again. The mistress began to side-eye at Cullen. There was a moment of silence that Cullen could not comprehend the reason for.

And then Josie intervened with an exasperated sigh, "Really? You should ask Cullen what he wants."

That seemed to snap Tharin out of a trance, and he turned toward Cullen. "Oh, right. What would you like?"

He had not expected this at all. He had barely situated himself, let alone made any effort to understand the myriad of menu items posted on top of the counter. Even their prices were written out in Japanese. Well, he could understand that all the circles were zeroes, but that was about it.

"Uh… I-I'm not sure. Maybe curry?"

Kumiko apparently caught the last word. Her eyes gleamed as she asked, "Kare-?"

Cullen repeated, "Curry. Yes."

Putting both her thumbs up, Kumiko added, "Okkei!" and yelled to the kitchen. A man's voice called out from inside, probably in agreement.

Kumiko began again, this time gesticulating in the thin air as though she were drinking something. Tharin interjected, "Wait, would you like something to drink?"

This was becoming a pattern, Tharin catching Cullen off-guard and Cullen frantically trying to come up with the right answer. "Um… Beer, I guess? Sapporo?"

Yes, it definitely was becoming a pattern. Kumiko smiled her toothy smile and said, "Okkei!" Soon she brought out a pint glass and a glass bottle of Sapporo beer. Thank God for small favors of life. At least one thing Cullen recognized in this Japanese hell he'd been tossed in.

Cullen's heart beat heavily as he tried his best and thanked Kumiko, "Arigato." He felt vindicated when Kumiko winked at him, though he wasn't sure what was up with all the winking that was happening today.

But Tharin's skill was way beyond Cullen's comprehension. He watched in awe as Tharin ordered everything in Japanese. Fluently from what he could tell, the young man did not seem to have any accent. No rolling of Rs and no uneven intonations that more often than not plagued English speakers.

After Kumiko served him a tall glass of some fizzy, translucent drink and went into the kitchen, Tharin turned and apologized profusely, "I am… sorry about that. I should've explained the stuff much better. Really sorry."

Josie mumbled quite audibly, "Yes. You should've."

"No, don't worry about it." Cullen waved his hands. It was Cullen who felt sorry about his limited Japanese knowledge. He felt like a fool, a caricature of an ugly American. What would Tharin think of him now?

Embarrassed, he poured and drank his beer in complete silence. At least the liquid ameliorated his parched throat. Tharin made no effort to start a conversation again. And so, both men sat at the bar, refusing to utter a word at each other as they sipped their drinks.

Josie's phone, which she had left out on the bar, began to vibrate, breaking the uncomfortable silence between the two men. She answered the phone and began to speak in fast Spanish. Huffing in what seemed like overt annoyance and mumbling "que imbécil," she ended the call and threw the phone into her red Prada handbag.

She began to talk to Tharin, her tone clearly contemptuous, "I have to go. My boss made an ass of himself at a party hosted at the prime minister's residence. As usual, I'm the one who has to clean up after him."

The woman then turned to Cullen and bid an especially odd farewell, "It was nice meeting you, Cullen. Think about giving Tharin another chance."

What was she talking about? It was Cullen who was ruining the date.

Josie fished the wallet out – Hermès – and took out five thousand-yen bills. Cullen calculated in his head: drop two zeroes at the end to get the U.S. dollar amount. Her supper was… fifty dollars.

While he marveled at the woman's spending, she turned back to Tharin, wagged her forefinger, and whispered harshly, "You! Do better!" With quick steps, she bounced out of the izakaya. Her plate still had some pieces of sashimi left.

Looking tentative, Tharin spoke quietly, "I'm sorry if Josie made you feel uncomfortable in any way."

At least Cullen could smile about this. He liked Josie, even her brashness. "No, seriously, I like her. She's a character."

Tharin agreed, not entirely coolly, "That she is…"

Kumiko and her partner – husband, maybe brother? – were efficient and quick. They came out with dishes laden with food right after Josie left, no more than fifteen minutes after the two men placed their orders. Cullen was grateful for a respite from the tempestuous interaction they just had with Josie.

Tharin had ordered salted mackerel that had been broiled, which was accompanied by a steaming bowl of rice, miso soup, and pickled vegetables, all held in plates of geometrically pleasing shapes.

Broiled fish didn't particularly seem like the food you eat at a date. Maybe Cullen was misinterpreting what this was. Doubts wafted up like smoke in his mind. He watched as the young man used chopsticks like a pro, expertly deboning and taking the fish apart.

He glanced down at his own food. On the side of a steaming bed of rice was beef curry, dark brown and spicy. He was also provided with a small dish of ruby-colored, glossy pickles and his own pair of chopsticks and a spoon. He was rather hungry, which became even clearer as he drank the beer. His stomach growled gracelessly.

Cullen scooped up a spoonful of rice and sauce, which he gulped down in one go. He regretted the action immediately, as the food was apparently made of lava. He instinctively scrunched his face.

Tharin must have seen his expression, since he snorted softly. Cullen felt his cheeks heat up and not because of the food.

But the curry was excellent. It was incomparable to the fare he was used to in the Navy. The unending rotation of mess halls, cafeterias, and fast-food places fell far short of the simple entrée created just for him. He hummed, embarrassment transmuting into self-satisfaction at having chosen correctly.

As Cullen scooped up the third bite of the food, he heard Tharin speak merrily, "You know, you didn't have to order curry just because you are in the Navy."

Cullen turned to the other man with a quizzical look. "Sorry, I don't understand?"

"You know how the Japanese Navy is the originator of curry in Japan?"

"Oh, I didn't know that." It was really the only Japanese food other than sushi and tempura that Cullen was familiar with at this point.

"Yeah. The Japanese Navy at the end of the nineteenth century tried to emulate the British Navy, which was the strongest at the time. They even copied the food served on ships, and one of them was curried stew."

With a remarkably intense face, Tharin continued, "Yokosuka claims itself as the birthplace of Japanese curry. But then, Kure in Hiroshima does as well."

Cullen unfortunately did not have anything to add, seeing as his knowledge of the histories of the Japanese Navy and the Japanese cuisine was nil, and so he just muttered, "Huh, interesting."

Perhaps that was not the right reaction, because the young man began to squirm.

Cullen was starting to feel anxious. It wasn't good. His interaction with Tharin was beginning to feel like his disastrous first date back in the U.S. He couldn't repeat it in a whole other country, so he volunteered, "You can call me Cul if you'd like."

The corners of the young man's mouth curved slightly. "Cul? Who gave you that nickname?"

"My parents. Well, they started when I was a baby, but my big sister Mia kept it going. They are gone now, my parents." Damn it, no one wants to hear about your family history, thought Cullen. He was beginning to feel even more panicky.

Still, it must have been amusing enough for the young man. "Cul… It's a cute nickname. Though I have to say, it's hard to imagine you as a toddler, everyone calling you Cul."

Panicky was not a pleasant state to be in. But when cornered, the brain could do some wondrous things. Cullen managed to crack a joke without a hitch, "Yeah… I haven't been a toddler for at least a couple years now."

The young man chuckled and dryly added, "Really? You sure you weren't a toddler last year?"

The panic began to subside. Slowly, but still. Regaining just the small bit of confidence, Cullen was able to counter the easy chuckle with crinkled eyes, "If you ask my family, they'll probably say that I was."

With his chopsticks halted and laid to rest for now, Tharin asked, "Where's your big sister now?"

"Oh, she's in the States."

The young man laughed heartily, which was a sight to behold. "Obviously. But what is she doing now?"

"Uh…" Cullen knew he was not a good liar. He swallowed hard and told the truth, "In a rehab."

A giant cloud seemed to envelop the young man's face. "I am so sorry I brought it up."

"No, it's really okay." He tried to grin nonchalantly as he pointed to the scar above his upper lip. "I got this scar from her, too. The time before last she went cold turkey, she became violent." God, stop it, you blithering idiot!

"Sorry," mumbled the young man, looking downcast.

Cullen knew the date had gone completely off the rails thanks to him. He focused his attention back to curry. Might as well stuff his face and try to forget about what a disappointing date he was being.

All of a sudden, Cullen could see a phrase flash in his brain. History repeats itself, first as a tragedy, second as farce. Where had he read that?

The conversation between them failed to flow naturally after that. It was as though even mundane conversation topics were eluding them somehow. Why was it so different than when they were chatting online? Everything seemed so much easier behind the laptop screen. Their collective aura was that of a bad date, Cullen was sure of it. He could swear that he saw Kumiko make a face at them at one point.

He wondered if Tharin and Josie both found him painfully dull. Given that they were both outgoing, warm, and interesting people, he had no doubt that they did.

The two kept drinking for some time. It was a good thing that he was sticking to beer and wasn't moving onto harder stuff, even though sake bottles lined the counter.

The awkward meal had been paid by the young man, which prompted many unwanted thoughts in Cullen's mind. Tharin felt sorry for him. No, Tharin didn't want to see him again after this. That's why he paid for the dinner. Either way, he was starting to feel dejected.

After they walked across the embankment bridge and reached Tharin's apartment building, the young man offered, "I'll walk you to the station."

Decorum dictated that Cullen protest the man's decision, but he could not bring himself to at all. He wanted Tharin to come with him. Faking insouciance, Cullen merely said, "Okay."

The sun had just about vanished, and a thin slice of orange horizon gave way to a whole swath of mauve night sky. It was 1900. Still, the premature heat of a passing spring lingered on the sidewalk, exuding warmth on the two as they walked. Cars were becoming less and less frequent on the road. So were salarymen, housewives, and students on their beaten down bicycles heading home.

They walked in silence through the neighborhood. They had indeed exhausted all topics of conversation. Or rather, the young man had given up on keeping the conversation going. That little voice in Cullen's brain kept whispering, You're boring.

Suddenly, Tharin stopped in his tracks and stared off to the side. There was a convenience store.

Ubiquitous in Japan, the convenience store was a sight Cullen was used to. But Tharin seemed to be torn about it. Hesitantly, the man inquired, "I'm sorry, I know you have to be back at the base early. Will you tell me the curfew again?"

Cullen suddenly hated his past self. Having attained the rate of E-5, he was entitled to live off base on the Navy's dime. Yet he had never felt the need to move off base.

Until today.

Without a liberty buddy accompanying him, he had to be back at the front gate of the base before 2200 and the return trip would take about one and a half hours in total, but he decided to fib anyway. "I've all the time."

Tharin looked apologetic as he explained, "I'm quite hot. Would you mind if we made a stop here? I'll get you a flan if you'd like."

"Flan? I thought that flan was a Latin American dessert."

The young man abruptly grew animated. "Oh, you mean you haven't had a flan once since you arrived in Japan? That's a travesty! C'mon, let me treat you to a flan, and we can share a bottle of iced tea."

The convenience store flan, or purin as it was known here, was surprisingly creamy and delicious. It traveled down Cullen's throat smoothly, its texture silky like soft tofu. Its base note was that of eggy custard, which Cullen quite liked. And then there was the tang of slightly burnt, fairly sweet caramel that pleased him. Paired with a grassy, bitter matcha drink, it constituted a perfect end to the dinner that was apparently ongoing.

"It's good, right?"

"Alright, I gotta hand it to you. It is good."

"Excellent!"

They were standing on a little counter adjacent to the glass wall facing the outside. Tharin had bought what looked like the Japanese version of GQ and was casually browsing through it. It suddenly occurred to Cullen that this was supposed to be language exchange first and foremost.

"We should practice Japanese at some point, right?" asked Cullen warily.

Tharin chuckled and said airily without looking up from the magazine, "We should. I'll speak nothing but Japanese at you the next time we meet."

It wasn't clear which part Tharin found amusing, the high probability that they would never speak in Japanese or the small chance that they would meet again. Cullen had to stop himself from thinking that it was the latter.

When Cullen's round white plastic container was devoid of the custard and Tharin's plastic bottle was devoid of the matcha, the young man gathered all the trash and properly disposed of them according to their types. He moved about gracefully, as though he had done this a thousand times before. And then he folded the magazine in half, held it under his left arm, and asked, "Shall we go?"

Cullen nodded and followed the young man out of the store.

They walked another ten minutes or so. They passed by the covered walkway leading to the station, and when they could see its drab mid-century modern front entrance, Tharin halted walking and turned. He began with an earnest tone, "Thanks for coming out all this way. I know it's a bit far, but I'm glad you came."

Cullen found the young man's cobalt blue irises peering back at him through the dim light radiating from the station building. He stammered like the fool that he was, "O-of course, it was my pleasure."

"I had fun today," said the young man without a hint of guile. Cullen thought him an excellent thespian for that. All he could do was grin and nod like a simpleton.

"Okay, so you know how to get back, right? All you have to do is take the Yokosuka Line and keep going south."

"I've got my Google Maps. I will be fine," said Cullen while waving his phone.

"Oh, right."

They stood facing each other in absolute silence. Cullen absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck and bit his bottom lip.

He was inexplicably feeling downhearted. He wasn't sure whether it was because it was time to say goodbye or because the first date had been a near disaster.

Knowing how bad this date was, Tharin was being merely polite. Polite smiles, polite words, and a polite sendoff. A part of Cullen wanted to deny it fervently, but that was the truth.

One of the few good things about being a conspicuous foreigner in the middle of a Japanese metropolis was that people did not apply the same rule of conduct to him. He was free to do as he pleased, so long as it did not cross the bounds of universal human propriety.

Cullen was almost one-hundred percent sure this was the first and the only time he would get to see Tharin, so he stepped forward and asked despite the rising nerves, "M-may I… hug you?" Tharin assented, which seemed like a decision borne of pity.

He wrapped the man in a tight embrace, disregarding the niggling feeling of social convention trying to block him. The young man's masculine fragrance wafted to his nose and enticed him.

Repeating in his head that this was his last chance, and knowing full well a resounding no was likely, Cullen nevertheless was determined to be bold when he asked, "Would it be… uh, alright if I were also to kiss you?" He was surprised when the young man beamed kindly and consented.

This had to be because Cullen was pitiable for sure. So, he planted a chaste kiss on Tharin's lips, not daring to go further than that.

"I will see you later, Tharin," said Cullen, thinking this was more than likely the last time he would get to say the man's name out loud. He began to walk toward the platform.

"See you again," replied Tharin while holding his right hand up. His lips, which tasted faintly of the bitter green tea they shared, were curved upward. But it was too dark to tell if it was a smile or a sneer.

END NOTE

Welp, good job, guys. Also: gotta love Josie and her meddling ways!

Next up, let's try that again, and do not repeat the failure, please.

Comments, reviews, and critiques are always welcome but never obligatory! Thank you for reading!