For one night, I was a fish.

Some people we knew at school were throwing a masquerade party on Halloween. One of them had a family house out in Yamanashi Prefecture and was angling for certification to throw house parties. I'd never heard of such a thing, but a party was a party, even if we were going to be taking over a stranger's home for an entire evening. I worked my ass off to pay my boss back for giving me an advance in September, just so I could go to the party guilt-free, and I put together a cool costume: a man in a suit, except with the head of a fish! I thought about buying a full fishhead mask that went all the way around my head, but I realized that would make it impossible to eat and drink, so I got some green facepaint and a half-face mask instead, covering just around my eyes and nose. I watched some arts and crafts videos to put decorative scales on it and everything, and I ordered a green wig to match. It was perfect, even if my friends Kibe and Kuri thought it was hilarious. What the hell did they know? Kibe was trying to do this Roman gladiator thing; his cape was going to get caught everywhere, and did he really think he'd be let in the house with a fake spear? And Kuri, he wanted to go as Iron Man, but in that plastic suit, he couldn't see anything! I'd rather be sushi than be blind.

But even if my costume was lame, I couldn't afford to worry about that. I had bigger things on my mind. As Sasapai drove us out of town, I couldn't help but stare at my phone and read through the email with the directions, instructions, and rules for the party. "Doors will open no later than 5:30, and if you're early, help with party setup would be welcome. Contributions of snacks, appetizers, or hot pots are appreciated. Please contact us on LINE or by email if you have any questions. –Yoko Shinbo, Yuuki Kawanaka, Chizuru Ichinose…"

Ichinose, the secret identity of the rental girlfriend Chizuru Mizuhara. I was going to this party, and Mizuhara would be there. I wasn't so worried that my relationship with Mizuhara would be exposed. After all, we would both be wearing masks, and her usual disguise as "Ichinose" had proved enough to fool even my friends. No, I was nervous about it because a lot had happened between Mizuhara and me, especially after her grandma died. Just the thought of the two of us going to the same party and pretending to be strangers didn't sit well with me. When I'd found out she and her friends were involved, and that her friend Shinbo had invited us through Sasapai, I'd stopped by Mizuhara's place and offered to sit out the party. "You're going to be busy running things," I'd told her, "and I'd feel bad if you had to work hard and also keep up appearances with me and my friends."

Mizuhara hadn't seen the problem. "We've kept up appearances before. What's changed?"

Nothing, as far as everyone else was concerned, but also everything, as far as the two of us were concerned. I hadn't hired her to pretend to be my girlfriend in front of other people for months. Even if this was just us pretending not to know each other for the sake of appearances, I'd been having a hard time with it. "I don't know," I'd admitted. "Maybe I'm crazy, or everything that's happened since summer has got me turned around. I just… I feel like things are different between us now, and the thought of going back, even just to pretend, is painful."

I'd expected Mizuhara to tell me I was being ridiculous, but instead, she'd started fidgeting with her hair scrunchie. "What are you trying to say to me?" she'd said.

I'd felt a lot of pressure all of a sudden. It hadn't been the right time or place, and if I was going to confess to her, I couldn't imagine doing it in a fish shirt while she was just in a hoodie and leggings, in her apartment in the dead of night. "Well, yeah," I'd told her. "It's just… hard to find the words, and I don't even know if you feel like something needs to be said."

She'd stopped fidgeting. "I do feel that way. I don't think 'rental girlfriend and her client' or 'neighbors' really fits us anymore, but what does? I've been thinking about it, too, and I don't know if there's a single word, or how to even explain it."

"It's hard, isn't it?" I'd said, feeling relieved that she hadn't shot me down out of hand.

Mizuhara had smiled gently. "It is, and I'll keep thinking about it. As for this party…" She'd frowned, thinking deeply. "I think you should come," she'd decided. "Your friends would miss you, and I don't think there will be any problem with the two of us. Even if we have to pretend in front of other people, I know there's something more between us. You don't have to worry about that."

I'd asked if she was sure, and I promised that once she'd finished with the party business, we could find some time to talk about us, though I didn't know how difficult it would be, but Mizuhara had a different idea.

"Maybe this will be a good opportunity," she'd pointed out. "People these days often live every day with masks on. You just can't see them. Masks we can see might just let us do away with the others and find a truth that was hiding in plain sight."

I'd asked her to explain, but she'd said she needed to sleep, and we'd said our goodbyes for the night. I hadn't spoken to her since, so when our car arrived at the house, I was a bit anxious, as much about what was going to happen that night as what the future held in store. Fortunately, there was a lot to take my mind off that.

We got to the house around five, and the hosts were happy to let people in early, so long as they helped with some of the preparations. Two of the hosts I recognized right away: Mizuhara's friends Shinbo and Kawanaka. Shinbo seemed to be in charge, wearing a cowgirl outfit with a red mask over her nose and eyes and a huge, wide-brimmed hat that almost knocked over a vase. Kawanaka followed right behind her in a raven costume, complete with a large beak jutting out from her nose. Even though I couldn't see Kuri's face, I could tell he was smitten with Kawanaka, following her around like a dog after a piece of meat. Cool your jets, Iron Man!

The six of us, along with some other hosts and guests I didn't recognize, worked to finish decorating the main room of the house—a high-ceilinged den that the hosts wanted to use as an improvised dance floor. We hung up strings of multicolored lights and tested the sound equipment. Kuri kept running off to chat up Kawanaka, though, and I admit I was checking out all the girls to see which one of them could be Mizuhara. There was one girl I thought could be her, dressed up as a nine-tailed fox with a red-sleeved dress, but her hair seemed too short. I was so distracted I plugged a speaker cable into a microphone input, and we had no idea what the problem was for five good minutes, but ultimately, we got it sorted out.

"You all can relax for a bit," said Shinbo. "The party will be underway soon. If I can just get a couple people to help out with the food?"

Kibe and I volunteered to help out. I knew I didn't want to sit still, and Kibe was hoping to find another available chick since Kuri seemed to have hit it off with Kawanaka. Shinbo pointed us to the kitchen. "Miss Sugar Plum!" she called out. "Some more pairs of hands for you."

"Miss Sugar Plum" had her hands full with a couple jugs of punch, but even as she lugged those sloshing containers around, she was stunning. Her dress was pink and purple, flaring from the hips to just above the knees. There was some kind of feathery decoration at the top of her chest, and the whole thing was being held up by just two thin straps over her shoulders, striped like candy canes. Purple, insect-like wings were attacked to her back, along with a matching mask over her eyes, with glitter on top. Her lipstick was a dark, dark reddish color, like black cherries, and her hair was up in an elaborate do, with just a few coiling strands hanging down around her ears.

"Please don't listen to her," she said, nodding at Shinbo the cowgirl. "I'm the Sugar Plum Fairy, which means I'm a fairy first. I'm not a piece of candy."

I laughed. It was funny to see her ice cool personality on display, despite how amazing her getup was.

She looked at me crossly, but she didn't say a word about it. "Now, boys," she said, not even missing a beat, "I could use your help pouring and mixing up this punch. Shall we?"

It was Mizuhara. There were a hundred different reasons I could tell, from the look in her eyes to her bare, shapely legs, to the cool tone of her voice. She really outdid herself with this costume. It'd be a shame if she only wore it once.

"Of course!" said Kibe, rushing to open a jug of juice. "Happy to help! Anything else you need?"

Mizuhara shot me a look, and I thought she sighed inwardly before responding. "Your friend can help with pouring out some dry snacks in some community bowls. I'll finish up with the hot appetizers." Or at least, that was the idea, but while Mizuhara wanted to finish putting out some chicken skewers, Kibe kept bugging her with questions about how she wanted the punch mixed, whether to put ice in the bowl. "Let's keep the ice separate," she instructed him. "People hate it when punch gets watered down."

"Of course, of course!" said Kibe. "That's a smart decision, Miss Fairy."

Mizuhara frowned. "I'm… glad you think so," she decided to say.

"You know, I'm not sure we've met," Kibe went on. Oh if he only knew. "Do you go to school with the other hosts, like Shinbo or—"

"Ah, no names!" she insisted, tapping a ladle on the side of the bowl. "No names until the masks come off tonight, Mr. Gladiator."

"And will your mask be coming off tonight, Miss Fairy?"

Okay, I was starting to get mad at Kibe for trying to hit on Mizuhara so obviously and repeatedly, but she finally snapped. She didn't blow up at him; rather, she decided to kill him in a crueler, more sinister way. "Maybe it will," she said coolly but with a hint of sweetness, "but only if you finish getting that punch together and get the bowl and cups out as soon as possible so people have some refreshments!"

"Yes, ma'am!" said Kibe, and he finally kicked it into gear. While I was still ripping open a second bag of pretzel sticks, Kibe was like an egg beater mixing up the punch, and he rushed out with the bowl in one hand and a box of cups in the other.

Finally, Mizuhara seemed to relax. She let out a heavy sigh, shook off her fatigue, and went back to work.

"Sorry about that," I said. "He's a good guy, but he still has some stuff to learn."

Her eyes flickered up, and with her pink and purple eyeshadow, it was really something to behold. "I suppose we all do," she said neutrally. "Have some things to learn, I mean."

"You handled it well."

"You think so?" She leaned back against the counter and smiled, her white teeth almost blinding compared to the backdrop of her black cherry lipstick. "I feel a little bad about it, but stuff needs to get done, and he was pestering me every ten seconds!"

"I'll make sure he's kept under control tonight," I promised. "It's the least I can do for you."

"Oh?" Mizuhara slid one last chicken skewer into place, and she came up beside me, peering over my shoulder as I emptied a bag of pretzel sticks into a bowl. "Don't tell me you're trying to angle your way into my good graces tonight just like your friend the gladiator."

I laughed. "C'mon, you know I'm not like that."

She pulled back a bit and whispered in my ear. "Do I now, Mr. Fish?"

If there had been any pretzel sticks left in that bag, I'm pretty sure I would've crushed them in surprise. Mizuhara left my side and picked up a tray of skewers to bring out to the dining room. She shot me a coy smile and said,

"Perhaps we'll get to know each other quite well tonight."

And as she left for the dining room, I couldn't help but stare, even after she was gone and I was alone in the kitchen with some gyoza and a bowl of edamame. Mizuhara had to know it was me, right? She should've recognized Kibe and his increasingly reticent hairline, but with the green paint on my face and that wig, maybe she didn't know who I was? But with that teasing sparkle in her eyes, I couldn't help be obsessed with the question. What did that mean if she didn't know who I was, and what did it mean if she did?