PHOTOGRAPH
July 26, 1975
SAKURA:
It was hot and humid, and I was tired. Yoshi had gone up to the surface to buy things we needed. Our supply of lamp oil, among other things, was dangerously low. He would likely be gone for most of the afternoon. I did not mind. It was even hotter on the surface, and I had no desire to wander around the city streets.
I sighed deeply and stretched my arms high above my head. The tie around my waist came loose, and I did not tend to it. I was alone, and it did not matter. I flopped down on the couch, resting the arch of my foot against the armrest. I felt the silky material of the robe Yoshi had bought for me slide over my stomach and fall apart. I breathed deep and let the cooler air caress my skin. It was not much, but it helped just slightly to ease the heat. I closed my eyes and stretched out contentedly. I knew it would not be long before I fell asleep.
I felt my mind begin to drift away. Suddenly an unfamiliar noise, accompanied by a light, startled me awake. "Oh!"I cried, sitting bolt upright. I pulled the robe closed over my chest instinctively, before I even realized what had happened.
Yoshi stood in the doorway, smiling slyly. "Konnichi wa, Sakura."
I clutched my chest, relief and anger flooding through me in equal amounts. "Do not scare me like that!" I cried.
He only smiled. I watched him closely as he walked over to me. "Are you hot?" he asked, laughing quietly.
"Hai," I admitted.
Our lips brushed lightly and he pushed me back down, kneeling next to me. He kissed me, brushed my hair off of my forehead, and blew a thin stream of cool air over me, between my breasts and down to my stomach. I laughed quietly. "That feels good."
He smiled as he pulled away, and I stared intently at him. "Please give me that picture," I ordered.
"What picture?" he asked, as if he did not know what I was talking about.
"The photograph you just took of me!"
"Oh, that picture," he chuckled.
"Yes, that picture. Give it to me."
He laughed quietly and reached into the back pocket of his American jeans. "This picture?" he questioned, holding up a thick photo from a Polaroid camera.
I sprang off the couch, lunging for him. But when I reached for his hand, the photograph was no longer there. I grabbed his other arm, but he held that hand up as well, spreading his fingers. I slipped my arms around him and tried to reach into his back pockets, where I figured he must have put it. He twisted away from me and darted to his feet before I even realized that he had moved. He was incredibly fast.
I stood as quickly as I could and he spun behind me before I could attack. His arms circled me from behind and he bit my neck gently. I laughed. "Yoshi, you are acting like a child," I informed him, trying to be serious. He sucked hard on my neck and I shrieked, wriggling away from him. "Yoshi!"
He laughed and let me go. I spun to face him and took a few steps back. He followed me, grinning evilly. "Yoshi?" I questioned, unsure of the smile. I took a few more steps back. "Yoshi, no... Please?"
He lunged at me and I jumped back. I spun and ran away from him, well aware that he could catch me easily. I had nowhere to run. I darted into the bathroom and tried to slam the door closed. But he was inside the room before I had a chance. He backed me up to the wall, near the counter he had built. I grabbed my ammunition as he reached for my wrists.
"Ah!"
He jumped back as a spray of white foam hit his chest. Now that he had been warned, I aimed the shaving cream at his face. He turned away, laughing as he reached blindly for the can. I moved it out of reach and covered the entire side of his face with the white spray. I didn't let go of the button until it ran dry. He was a mess. I laughed loudly as he turned to me, his eyes dancing and a wicked smile on his face.
"Do you love me?" I questioned, trying not to laugh.
I shrieked as he grabbed the hand that held the can. I let him have it, knowing it was empty now. His hands went to my sides and jabbed into my ribs. I tried to double over, but couldn't. He was too close to me. I grabbed his wrists and tried to pull his hands away, but he was much stronger than I was. I was trapped. I struggled, laughing, until between the two I had exhausted myself. Then, he stopped.
He slipped his arms around my waist, underneath the robe. We were both covered in shaving cream, and I didn't particularly care. I wiped a large glob of it from his cheek and draped my arms over his shoulders as he kissed me deeply. As he pulled away, the mysterious gleam returned to his eye. "You know," he started, "I think I have to buy frame for picture..."
I shoved him away from me and reached for his pocket again.