"C'mon, Chiyo-chan," Ayumu pleaded. "Don't let it hit you so hard! It's old news."

"It's new to me," Chiyo shot back, then sat on the floor. "I can't believe you! You didn't breathe a word of this to any of us..." She almost felt hurt, but then Ayumu had her own ridiculous reasons.

"I didn't want you guys to wor—"Ayumu realized what she was saying and held off. "Sorry. I'm sorry. But you asked earlier why I moved away, and that's why. When I'd recovered, I decided that life was just too damn short to waste in that miserable school and I made up my mind to leave. Did a little research... then I watched Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah and decided on Sapporo."

"You made a life decision like that based on a monster movie?"

"Well... and Yomi-chan's stories about vacationing in Hokkaido."

"I can't... wow. Did you have a plan? So you hopped a bus to Sapporo and then what?"

"A plan?" Ayumu thought back. "Well... no. I just wanted to get away. I wasn't exactly thinking very clearly at the time. We've been over this."

"You just..." Chiyo leaned her forehead onto her hand. "God! You could have died! You might have starved to death or been shot or what-have-you and we'd never have found out what happened to you!"

"It's about two-and-a-half years too late to get mad at me," Ayumu said blandly. "Things turned out fine, as you can see."

Chiyo crossed her arms. "Awfully selfish of you."

"Yes, I know, now. How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" There was no response. After a few seconds Ayumu continued. "You already know most of the story after that, depending on how far you managed to get through that thing," she gestured at her novel.

Her friend still didn't comment, instead taking a look out the window. Dead leaves rushed by, vividly bright from the streetlights outside. Finally, Chiyo shook her head. What was the point in ruining their visit over something that happened years ago? Maybe it had been a boneheaded move, but it was far too late to change things. "It hurt to lose you." As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced at how awkward they sounded, but again, it was too late.

Ayumu looked at her hands for a while before responding. "I missed you guys. But... I felt like I couldn't face you. I can't say why." She stood and stretched, her back cracking enormously. "And before things get too depressing, I'm going to get myself a drink. Want some?"

"Some what?"

"I was thinking sake. You look like you need it." She lifted the tall bottle from its place behind the mini-fridge and refilled her glass.

"I'm still underage."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot." Ayumu said, pouring a second glass. "Here you go."

"This is exactly like one of those insipid peer pressure videos Rose always complained about," Chiyo sighed. "I made it through years of college only to fall before Osaka. Never saw that one coming."

They both sat staring into their glasses for quite some time. The windows rattled slightly in the wind; a frigid finger of air rushed under one left ajar and played through their hair. "It's going to rain, soon," Ayumu commented. "You can smell it on the air."

"Do you still like the rain?" Chiyo asked. She remembered the other running around in typhoons for the fun of it. Maybe that was how she got pneumonia.

"Love it."

"So... want to tell me about Benjiro-san?"

Shrug. "I guess."

"Or do you think I could meet him before I have to leave tomorrow?"

Ayumu blinked. She hadn't known that Chiyo would have to leave the very next day. "Er, probably not. He might blow in tomorrow, he might not. B-san's kinda like a cat..." an unmistakable warmth crept into her voice. "A big, ugly cat with a mop on his head."

"Well... what kind of guy is he? Where does he work?" Normally, Chiyo would have reigned in her curiosity, but the silence had been getting to her.

"He's..." Ayumu stumbled a little. What could she say? Benjiro was Benjiro. "...real nice, I guess. Kind of a slacker. He runs this little book-slash-record-slash-coffee store for a living. Real into music. It's his dream to front a band and go platinum."

Chiyo took the picture up. "He looks like an interesting person."

"Oh, he's really more boring than he looks. The sunglasses are for effect." Ayumu paused. "It's a good thing, though. I'm kind of sick of 'interesting' people, if you know what I mean."

Chiyo had an idea. "No, I was more thinking about the way he makes you look."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Sorry, keep going."

"I met him about... wow. A year ago next week. I wonder if he remembers?" She took a swallow from her glass, surprised by the slight giddy feeling that rose in her. "We go out every now and then, you know, art exhibits, movies that sort of thing. We could do just about anything together."

"Anything?" Chiyo asked.

Ayumu looked genuinely hurt. "It's not like that! Jeez, America warped you more than I thought. You know me better than that!"

"I'm sorry. Hey, we're apologizing an awful lot, have you noticed?" Actually, Chiyo wasn't sure what she was apologizing for. Her friend must have mistaken the tone of her voice... but why such a strong reaction?

"Yeah. Don't worry, just forget it. Well... we have fun together, but I think I weird him out a little sometimes."

"Like how?"

It was an open-air exhibit near the Sapporo Art Park, thrown by and for an abstract artist who called himeself Kin. The air was remarkably still, dry and warm, a perfect day for such an event.

"I guess when you look at this one, you're supposed to be able to see into this guy's world," Benjiro commented. "I sure don't see anything, but it looks cool, doesn't it?"

Ayumu nodded absently as her eyes slid easily over the splattering colors and looping lines. There didn't appear to be anything lurked under the surface, but-- she bit her lip suddenly. So that's how it was... They moved on to the next piece and it tugged at her in the same way. And after the third painting, she actually started to feel a little distressed. "Hey, Yumu-sama, you all right?"

"Y-yeah. I'm fine."

But after another piece her eyes were swimming. "Um, I think you're catching something I'm missing, here..." Benjiro said uneasily. "Or do you just really hate plaid?"

At that moment, the artist in question happened by. Ayumu whirled and threw her arms around Kin, sobbing on his shoulder. "It'll be all right," she cried, "Everything will be okay, you don't have to worry!"

Benjiro blinked, wavered for a moment, started to leave, then gave a disgruntled sigh and sat down. "Just let me know when you guys're finished."

"Before you can ask, I don't know why either," Ayumu disclaimed. "But if you think that's crazy, he started crying on me. And then, after we wound down, he gave me his phone number. I think B-san was going to beat him up, but then we left."

"Art is one thing I'll never understand," Chiyo admitted sadly. "So Benjiro-san's good to you, then?"

"Oh, he's awesome! In fact, to celebrate my getting published, he took me on an exodus back to see my old literature professor who'd made my stay at college particularly difficult."

"Your literature... how did that go?"

"Ha! Ha ha ha HA HA ha!" Ayumu waved the acceptance letter in the professor's face. "You said I was hopeless! You said I couldn't write my way out of a paper bag! Well, who's laughing now? Ah ha ha ha!"

The professor didn't respond, instead handing her a newspaper. She took it and read the highlighted review quickly and softly. "Though I got my copy for free, I felt cheated after reading this travesty, even after I was paid to write the review. Ms. Kasuga is obviously not right in her heart or mind, and should not be trusted with a quill. I further move that the executives that decided to publish this book should be shot, then sacked..." she flipped the paper over, "...then thrown into Tokyo Bay with cement shoes." After taking a moment to absorb all that, she handed the paper back to him. "Hm. How about that."

"Now will you get off of my desk?"

"Oh, right. Sorry." Ayumu stepped down hastily and stood with her hands clasped submissively before her. "Um... it was very nice to see you again, sir," she said, bowing. The professor didn't respond, instead looking into his newspaper. So her revenge was foiled, was it? After a long pause, Ayumu looked around... then kicked over his wastebasket and made her escape!

"For what it's worth," her Professor Kanzaki said loudly, bringing her up short in the doorway, "I thought it was great."

"Oh. Um. Thank you," she said. "Sorry about... uh..." she gestured lamely at the state of carnage she'd left his desk in.

"No problem, I earned it. Now run along before I call security."

Ayumu did. In the parking lot, Benjiro waited, leaning on the hood of his car. It would have been a classic, but it hadn't exactly aged gracefully. He called it the Black Beater. "Hey, how'd it go?" he called.

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Anyone else you want to see while we're down here?"

Ayumu smiled brightly and opened her mouth to respond... then a cloud passed over her features. She looked wistfully around at the familiar landscape and said, "No. No, I can't think of anyone."

"Have it your way," he said, and opened the car door for her like the perfect gentleman they both knew he wasn't.

"So you came all the way back to the Tokyo Area, and you didn't..."

"Please!" Ayumu interrupted. "Just... can you let it go? Please?"

"I—I didn't mean to-"Chiyo slapped her forehead. "Look at how vindictive I'm being! Maybe I'm a mean drunk."

"You've hardly touched it."

"Hey, this can be a lot in the wrong hands- or stomach..." Returning to their original tack, she pointed over at the CD player. "So is that Benjiro-san rubbing off on you?"

"Yep. He got me into just about everything I listen to... hey, did you know James Brown is real? I finally found out what a Sex Machine was!"

"Huh?" A what machine?

"Oh, you probably don't remember; it was this dream I had. Never mind. I'd play the song for you, but B-san and I have this game going... we're betting on baseball games, my Soul CDs against his reputation. If I win, he has to give me all my CDs back and admit to his friends that I got him."

"How's it going?"

"Sadly, I don't know a lot about sports, so it's like taking candy from a baby for B-san. I'm down to my one Edwin Starr. The last game, I lost my last James Brown 'cause I was stupid enough to bet on the Hanshin Tigers."

"Oh, you did not just say that," her friend challenged.

"That's right, you like the Tigers, don't you? You'll be happy to know that the Giants have slaughtered them every game since you left."

"No way!" Chiyo protested, horrified. "Lies!"

"Yep. So all I have left is that one CD. If I lose the next bet, that louse will be able to brag that he stole my soul, and if I know him, he won't ever let it go."

"Stole your...?"

"It's a pun. Soul? You know, the English... never mind. Well... I guess I shouldn't call him a louse; he really is good to me. His friends on the other hand... well, I think that they're only nice to me because I'm his girlfriend."

The Record Store had a small number of "regulars," friends of Benjiro that came to his place for all their musical (and often social) needs. It was safe to say that without the regulars, the store would have gone belly-up years ago; by this time, you could almost call them "investors." Tables were spaced out amid the shelves in its dim, incense-scented interior that had seen many strange and heated conversations.

The regulars were actually the best part of the job for Benjiro. When there was no "real" business, as was often the case, he could just kick back with them and goof off. Some entrepreneurs had that fire in their gut that wouldn't allow them to rest, that would drive them day in and day out to give their lives to their work and make their business the best it could be. Benjiro didn't. That was probably why the record store never really grew, and why he was now the frontman of at least four failed bands. Oh, well.

He sat now at a table with two of his most faithful customers, Kenichi and Shiro, and Ayumu, who was still a new addition to his life at the time.

"I don't know," Kenichi was saying, "Lately, I've been listening to Shonen Knife. I didn't think so before, but they've got some good stuff."

"Ahh," Shiro grunted, "You shouldn't listen to that Punk shit. They should at least sing in their native language."

"Say, have you guys heard of the Hives?" Benjiro asked.

"And you're always obsessed with that foreign shit," Shiro continued. "Man alive, I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Is everything shit to you?" Kenichi asked.

"More or less."

"Then what do you listen to?" Benjiro challenged.

"Hyde's cool. Did you go to his concert with that big iron cross that almost fell on their bass guy? That was the shit!"

"Again with the shit," Kenichi sighed, "That's your favorite word, isn't it? Hey, Ayumu! We haven't heard from you. What do you listen to?"

And she was suddenly on the spot. Honestly, she had never bothered to form an opinion, but now she was surrounded by people who cared more about music than was probably healthy. "Well... um..." Ayumu thought frantically and said the first group that came to mind. "I kinda like Morning Masume..."

Kenichi and Shiro stared at her. What? Had she said something wrong? Benjiro calmly leaned back and put his arm around her, staring a challenge at them.

"A-all right," Shiro said.

"S'cool," Kenichi agreed.