"...in other news, the United States Army and JSDF are scheduled to play war games in the Sea of Japan through next week, less than 300 miles from Tokyo Bay. The war games are routine for the superpower nations, but are of heightened importance as North Korea continues it's threats of nuclear conflict against the newly-inaugurated US President. Leader Kim Jong-un reaffirmed his plans to expand North Korea's nuclear arsenal while tentatively leaving the door open to future peace summits with the South. Prime Minister Abe's office was unavailable for comment at press time."

"As tensions bubble between the US and North Korea, the JSDF has taken great strides to prepare itself for potential war. Increased military presence has been reported in the west coastal cities of Kanazawa, Niigata and Fukuoka, with troops setting up sentry posts around the coastline and evacuation drills of local prefectures becoming a daily occurrence. Tedious for the locals, to be sure, but no measure is too much when it comes to defending Japan and the people that love her."

"This is Maya Takanuki with 99.1 J-KSS, the ooonly radio station you need for the Tokyo metro area."

The radio drifted off into a somber jazz piece. There was a slight overcast hugging the sky, but sunshine still streamed through breaks in the clouds. A passing shower, the muggy weather was due to clear up in the next few minutes or so. The streets were damp, and I could smell the sweetish scent of dew clinging to the air through my open window. It was still plenty bright outside, and the weather was supposed to be cool all night.

I took a moment to take in Natsuki's neighborhood. I remember once my father told me that this district was a fairly recent development (by his time), sprung up in the 70s following renewed interest in expanding the Japanese economy after the Vietnam War, but it's roots began with Reconstruction following the Second World War. This district was home to a lot of retired American war veterans from conflicts past, where they worked at the US military bases, married locals and became integrated with Japanese culture and community. As a result, these houses were different from the traditional, many century-old houses common in Edogawa and were designed heavily with Western influence. Many of the houses were of much sturdier construction, using concrete and rebar instead of wood and brick. All of the homes had a dedicated lawn, a mailbox stand and walk-up driveway, something you'd only find in the wealthiest neighborhoods of the ward.

It was actually quite bizarre seeing these neat rows and rows of houses like this; the average Japanese suburb had apartments and homes almost spilling on top of each other as space was so constricted. Never in my life had I lived in a home with a garden bigger than a living room. These homes were like castles, with sharp edges, thick material and, how you say, flamboyant decorations. Every other house had the flag of the United States hanging from it. This was an unnerving cookie cutter block, like it was straight out of a catalog.

Dad sarcastically called it Gaijin Boulevard.

I folded my arms over the steering wheel and set my chin on top of them. I scoffed; Americans. My watch beeps and I glanced down to check it; a quarter to seven. Looking up again, I stared out the window at Natsuki's house.

Where on Earth was she? She was supposed to be out half an hour ago already. Should I text her again? Did she forget? No, why would she forget? She had been talking so eagerly about tonight yesterday on the roof. It wouldn't just slip her mind.

Out of all the houses on the street, Natsuki's was the one that stuck out to me. Where the rest of the block had fresh paint and neatly trimmed lawns, Natsuki's seemed...dilapidated. The lawn was green but had dead yellow patches. The American and Japanese flags hanging side-by-side from the patio were slightly tattered. The coral pink paint on the side was peeling white in places. At the second floor, it looked like the windows facing the street were actually blacked out. The mailbox had its flag raised and a magazine sticking out. It had a certain neglect to it, but just enough to keep it respectable among the other houses on the street. Otherwise the house seemed ordinary with a swept driveway, a patio with antique-looking furniture and a modest red/yellow flower bed lining the bottom of the small home.

Well, at least it seemed the smallest. Natsuki had specifically asked me to idle not in front of her house, but a block down the street from it. I was parked on the other lane and she was at the very end of the road, so I couldn't make out the details perfectly but decent enough. Her reasoning was justified; her dad was still in the dark about our relationship and she didn't want him finding out.

I leaned back in my seat.

When were we gonna go public? Well, in a sense we already were public, but, y'know, names in each others bios public. We held hands at school, and on our mini-dates we might as well be attached to the hip. Tonight was gonna be the first time we were out in public, and…it made my chest heave. A big step. Not that I was in a rush for that step; I was the happiest man in Tokyo as far as I knew, but we had to meet each other's parents eventually? The Literature Club knew, and Sayori was perhaps our number one shipper. My friend Shinjuku from typing class knew. One of Monika's old debate club friends made a comment when she stopped by the club about how cute we were together (hmm, I wonder how she found out?). I'm at least 85 percent sure my parents know something's up, when my dad made a comment at breakfast that I 'was always grinning when my phone went off' nowadays. But when it came to Natsuki's dad, I didn't know…well, anything.

I kept thinking about that bruise on her when she came back from having to go out of town 'unexpectedly'.

It was already a few weeks since then, and I haven't seen anything else like that on her since. The bruise healed in a few days and Natsuki just kinda laughed it off after. We never missed a club meet, and not more than a few days would go by without texting each other, so we were always in each other's reach. Still, I kept thinking about how the bruise discolored her face so much. Like, a car door did that? Nats may have her clumsy moments, but I couldn't imagine her just running into something like that for it to bruise up so much. It just sounded…like an excuse.

I mean, it's just a suspicion. I've haven't actually seen anything happen to her, and I've never even met her dad. But I'm her boyfriend; if something's hurting her, it's my responsibility to know about it and help her right? I don't know, maybe the situation with Sayori just made me more springy and paranoid to these things. She was making great strides with her therapy, but there was always that feeling of uneasiness. It changed all of us, and even now none of us were really–

Commotion at the door. I perked up and started the engine.

Under the dim light out stepped a princess in a sleek satin red dress. A white frill lined the bottom of the dress, with open shoulders. Even from here I could see she did her hair differently, trading her red ribboned pigtails for a thick braid swept in front of her right shoulder. The other side of her hair was neatly combed down, and the red clip was now a decorative piece instead of functional. Black shoes and a matching purse over her shoulder to boot.

I let out a quiet 'woah' to myself. How could one girl be so damn hot? She was like a diamond, perfect from every angle. But when you hold her up to the light…she shimmers.

Natsuki fumbled with a set of keys and quickly locked the door. She stepped down from the patio, walked to the street and glanced around, almost…panicked? Anxious? She dug into her purse and pulled out her phone.

Uhhh.

I flickered my headlights on and off. Natsuki spun around to the light and waved at me with a wide smile. Gripping her purse, she started to speed walk down the street.

Ohfuckohfuckohfuckherewego. I adjusted the mirror and looked at myself, teasing my already gelled-up hair back. I tightened my black tie up some and brushed some spotted lint off my blazer. I took a deep breath. Don't overthink it. I can bring it up later.

I stepped out to the front of the car and waited, straightening my blazer out. Natsuki's kitten heel shoes clacked against the street as she crossed over. I bowed slightly, smiling.

"Good evening, ma'am. I'll be your limo driver for the night." I opened the door and gestured inside. "Ready for the prom?"

Natsuki giggled and playfully patted me on the cheek. "Only if I'm still going with the cutest boy in the world.", she said before she leaned in for a kiss.

…

Passing through the low-hanging suburbs and thick rooted trees that lined Edogawa, the beautiful Tokyo skyline finally emerged as we cruised across the Rainbow Bridge into the city. Towering and twisting skyscrapers were like little bento boxes compared to the monolith Skytree structure, done up in brilliant shades of crystalline blue-white tonight. Dusk was here, and the first stars were already beginning to twinkle in the night sky. The freeway was relatively quiet, a lot more cars trying to exit the city in the oncoming lane than those coming in. Not surprising for this time of night, with people eager to get home from work. From the bridge crossing, only ten minutes to Tokyo Tower, where the better part of the evening would be spent.

The windows down, we screamed the lyrics to Plastic Love.

The entire car ride had been a karaoke sesh. Something I found out the night of the festival months back was that Natsuki actually has quite an incredible singing voice, a master of vibrato. When we go up onto the roof of the school sometimes to get away from everyone, she'll lay her head in my lap and whistle sweet tunes while we read manga. My singing voice always sounds like a dying cat, but when it's paired with hers…well, she sings louder than I do, so it works out okay. The sweet tunes of Mariya Takeuchi finished just as we exited the bridge.

Downtown was bustling with activity, swirling with crowds of people at the intersections ready to go drinking at bars and dance the night away. Already the street hustlers and performance artists were in the thick of it, huge crowds throwing money and dancing with them. Long lines wrapped around the theaters and nightclubs and the fanciest restaurants that keep Tokyo's blood pumping. I glanced over at Natsuki, staring up at the buildings as we drove past the big boxy hotels with all-glass fronts. After hard-stopping the car to avoid a jaywalker (who saluted me for my great driving skills), I started angling for a parking spot along the curb.

I hadn't been downtown since I went to get the supplies for Natsuki's cupcakes all those months ago, and even longer since I had actually worn a suit for something that wasn't a funeral. This would be our first 'real' date, and not just hanging out at school or at my house or whatever. On the outside I was trying to play it cool, but inside I was a nervous wreck. I must've done up my hair twenty different times trying to get it to look "just right" before I left to pick her up. But what did I have to worry about, anyway? My car was full of gas, my wallet was full of cash, and I had the entire evening planned out down to the minute. Dinner date at the tower, then a nice stroll through the koi ponds, and finally close out the night with a movie at my place.

Simple enough.

"Are we late?" Natsuki asked, digging into her purse for lipstick. She popped open her makeup mirror and started to adjust it, but honestly I thought she looked fine.

"Ahhh…" I glanced at my watch. "No, right on time."

I veered the car into a meter lane and put it in park. Natsuki, satisfied with her work, snapped her makeup mirror shut. We stepped out. "What movie were you thinking of tonight?"

I clicked the car key and it locked with a cheerful beep-beep! "Mmm, I was thinking…Ghibli?"

Natsuki thought for a moment. "Castle in the Sky."

"Nope." I started putting coins into the meter.

"...Nausicaä."

"Nuh uh."

"Ummm...Princess Mononoke?"

We idled at the major crosswalk to the tower. Across the street, a gigantic costume mascot dressed as Hatsune Miku wobbled around and posed for photos with a group of middle schoolers, while Sand Planet played through a scratchy speaker. Behind Miku, her gruff looking, Yakuza-type 'handler' was swiping the parent's credit cards for the photo fee.

I took a stick of gum from my breast pocket and popped it in my mouth. "Give up?"

Natsuki's hands entwined with mine. She nuzzled her head into my shoulder. "You got me, baby."

"From Up on Poppy Hill."

Natsuki's eyes lit up. "Ooooh, an excellent choice, sir!" She walked ahead of me and turned around, leaning in on her tippy toes. "A man of…" she leaned up and booped me on the nose with her finger. "...exquisite taste tonight!" She grinned.

I couldn't help but blush. "Oh shush, this food is what's gonna be exquisite. And we both know Howl's Moving Castle is the best Ghibli movie anyway."

Natsuki scoffed, putting her hands on her hips in a mocking demeanor. "Yeah, riiight! How could you say that when Kiki's Delivery Service exists?"

The light turned green. We both started across the street to the plaza.

…

"You're kidding me! This is a joke, right?"

"Closed!? This is bullshit!"

"I've been waiting two months for this table!"

A small crowd had gathered at the long row of rotating doors leading into the lobby of Tokyo Tower. I glanced up at the slender, candy cane-red structure and back down again. The entire tower was cloaked in darkness, save for the aircraft warning lights going up the shaft. At the very top sat the bellhouse with the observatory and restaurant, cloaked in milky white lights. The doors were locked and roped off with a velvet divider, with several paper signs taped on the glass. A lone security guard was busy arguing with a surly looking salaryman and his pudgy wife, stomping his little feet and pointing angrily into the blank-faced officer who was reduced to only shrugging and gesturing back to the sign.

Natsuki and I walked up to the rotating doors. I leaned against the glass and stared into the lobby. Cloaked in darkness, I could see a group of blue-shirted maintenance workers loading equipment into an open elevator shaft, guided by flashlight. Natsuki traced her finger along the glass where the sign was posted. "Tokyo Tower is experiencing a power outage and has closed to the public for the night. We apologize for any inconvenience. Call our main office tomorrow morning to reschedule your reservations." She read aloud.

I stepped back from the glass and sighed. "Wow."

Natsuki leaned her head into my shoulder and clutched my hand, rubbing her fingers against my palm. "What are the odds?"

Behind me I could hear the argument with the salaryman and guard continue. The salaryman was now pointing to a fist of clumped yen notes in his hand and trying to get the guard to take it, as if bribery would've solved the catastrophic power failure right then and there. I glanced down at her.

"Soooo, what now?"

Natsuki paused for a moment, glancing around the sweeping plaza underneath the tower. Already the dedicated vendors posted outside had closed shop for the incident, and only street sweepers and scattered groups of tourists remained, unsure of what to do. All the local activity had shifted across the street to the street performers and rows of cafes lining the avenue. It was a full night now, and the weather had gotten a tinge colder. I could smell the wafting steam from the hot food stands, as the vendors handed out free samples to entice the passersby. The smell of buttery dangos and strawberry cakes swirled in my nose.

"Well, did you still want to go eat?" Natsuki said.

I felt my stomach growling. I had fended off hunger for half the day and was saving myself for the date. "Oh hell yeah."

"Well, let's just go walking until we find something…" she trailed off and looked down at her satin dress, the warm street lamps making the deep red color pop. "Probably something a little more dress appropriate."

We crossed the main road that ran parallel to the plaza. Underneath Tokyo Tower was a small but lovely garden area, complete with waterfalls, wood-carved benches and now wilting cherry blossom trees (cliche, I know). The street lamps hung low over the cobblestone pathways snaking into the gardens, and after the plaza along the street were a row of various restaurants and bars. It seemed like most of the would-be diners at the tower had the same idea, and lots of well-dressed couples and groups were beginning to cue up outside the eateries. Mostly older married pairs, but a couple of college-looking students mixed in. All dressed to impress.

We walked over to one of the shops, it's front entry done in a modern style with dark oak wood and exposed black steel. Through the wide windows I could see the dinner rush was on, and the front staff were furiously taking orders down for the new influx of customers coming from the tower. I walked over to the skinny, bespectacled man taking names outside and typing away into a tablet.

"Sumimasen. Tēburu no naga-sa wa dore kurai desu ka?"

The man glanced up and peered at me over his wire-frame glasses. He held up a peace sign. "Two hours minimum." He didn't stop typing.

I grimaced slightly but turned it into a smile. "Sōdesu ka. Arigatō."

We continued down the street, holding hands. The lines continued to wrap around the shops as the traffic roared by. Twinkling neon lights reflected in the puddles on the street, blues and reds and pinks. As we walked down the street, it was more of the same as the first shop, fairly fancy and long queue times. White steam wafted from an open grate on the corner as we approached a large intersection, where the traffic lanes became wide pedestrian plazas and the sidewalks got more packed. Here the alleys split two ways, with more restaurants to the left and what seemed like a row of souvenir shops to the right.

A bicyclist whizzed past the red light, drawing the angry honks of a cab. "Well, which way?" I asked.

Natsuki glanced around both ways and paused. "Hmmm…", she thoughtfully tapped her finger on her cheek. Then she shrugged. "I dunno."

I raised an eyebrow. "You dunno?"

She smirked. "Yeah, I dunno."

I looked down the right street. It had a Akihabara vibe, and I could see the large twinking ad boards for the latest mangas and animes coming out next year; Love is War, Zombie Land and Godzilla caught my eye. The buildings were a lot more spaced apart from each other compared to the restaurant street, and it seemed like all the foot traffic was at a standstill, pretty hard to get through. The left street looked pretty narrow and had electrical wires criss-crossing over the walkways, but the traffic was flowing evenly in two directions. A police officer stood by the main entry and watched the people pass through, bored.

I looked up at the street signs. Tokyo Tower loomed in the background, an ominous presence hiding in the dark without it's usual cheery lights. It seemed like the food row was more locals-oriented than the glitzy, polished arcade and otaku retail alley. I tugged on her hand, "I say left." Natsuki pulled my arm close and squeezed lovingly.

"Lead the way, darling~".

The walkway tightened, the crowds grew louder. I could feel the heat of the open-grill flames of broiling the finest red meats fresh off the cutting board, the warmth licking my face even as we passed for a few seconds. There was a jubilant mood in the air with all kinds of dizzying smells swirling at the same time; the spices and oils bubbling in the pans, the fresh smell of meat against the knife, the blackening smoke wafting of the grills…it was entrancing, and it only angered the biting emptiness in my stomach. Hopefully it's not too long of a wait here.

An elderly vendor with a tight black bandana and greasy apron stuck out two sweet potato wedges on toothpicks at us. "Ahh, young sir and ma'am! Care for a taste?"

Natsuki eagerly grabbed the sample and plopped it into her mouth. She held a hand to her check, savoring it. "Scchoo guuud! Kazuma, try shhome!" she said through a full mouth. I opened my mouth and felt the hot piece of potato sit on my tongue and roll to the side.

"Oh man." I coughed, biting down on it. "It's hot."

"But it's good, right!" Natsuki eagerly took another sample and happily ate it. She looked at the vendor, pleased at her reaction. "Do you have any tables?"

He spread his arms out sheepishly. "Sorry, ma'am. We're not taking any more names for the night, I'm just getting rid of the unsold stuff." The flavors were swishing in my mouth, the green onions mixed with the juice of the potato. Very good, but this isn't helping my hunger much…

"Aww, well thank you." Natsuki said, and pulled me forward into the crowd. The walkway widened, allowing for a few tables and chairs for passersby to sit and eat at, but they were already occupied. The street banked to the right, and it seemed to get even more packed with these little hole-in-the-wall eateries.

I sighed, chewing on my gum. "Hopefully we'll find something."

…

We must've walked a good twenty minutes down the strip before we found a place with no wait. Ibuki's Den, as the sloppily-painted wood sign above the door read, looked five years past a refurbishment. String lights hung low over the ceiling, and the actual restaurant must've been about twenty feet wide by fifty feet long. There was a small round table near the window looking outside and a long row of strained-leather booths all the way to the back. On the left was the bar area (not tonight, and drinkings' twenty times more fun with Yuri anyway), with a scratched to hell oak wood top and an impressive rack of various liquor bottles behind it. A constant plume of steam hung above us like a fog, and the smell of cooking food was good but had a burnt edge to it. This place was, well…we were definitely the youngest people there. Everyone else looked gruff, sour-faced and like they had a bone to pick with somebody in the bar. Even the waitress who sat us down gave us an odd look, a "What are y'all doing here?" vibe.

But hey, no wait. And I'm starving.

Natsuki and I sat down at a booth furthest to the back, between an elderly couple praying before their meal and a family of five, the parents sitting across from their three squealing kids and trying to get them to finish their dishes. Our waitress, an older lady with jet black hair tied up in a bun and bags under her eyes, sat us down with the menu. The no-nonsense type, working the late shifts and ready to get home already.

"Anything to drink?" she said, clicking her pen.

Natsuki glanced at the menu and back up. "Um, I'll have a barley tea with ice."

"I'll have green tea with lemon, please."

"Be right out." the waitress turned on her heel and into the kitchen. At the door, a second couple that looked our age came in, took one look around and right back out.

I drummed my fingers on the table. "Well, it's not Tokyo Tower…"

Natsuki laughed. "Blech, we could be sitting in a drainage ditch right now but as long as the food is good, it's whatever."

I smiled, and looked around our booth. Against the table was an extremely vintage mini jukebox, the plastic casing graffitied with keymarks of hearts and vulgarity. The walls behind the booth went to the ceiling, so there was at least a semblance of privacy. From the kitchen, a huge burst of flames rose up from the grill and was quieted just as quickly by the chef, busy working three pans at once. In the background, I could hear the speakers softy play a cover of Sukiyaki, one of the most popular singles ever released in Japan. Natsuki hummed the melody to herself as she traced her fingers around holes in the table.

"What do you think we're gonna do now? Now that the Festival's done and all." I said.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Not like we got any new members out of it."

"Even after all that work Monika put into her song…"

"I know, right? It was so sweet, too. I wonder who she wrote it for." Natsuki said, adjusting her hair clip up.

It definitely sounded like a love song that night. I mean, with lyrics like 'Everyday, I imagine a future where I can be with you' and 'If I don't know how to love you, I'll leave you be', what else could it be? It was a little on the cheesy side, but damn if it didn't bring the house down and probably got a few boys' hearts fluttering at the idea of Monika being their waifu. Monika said afterward she loved to write songs in her off time, and songwriting always reminded her of the Polish ballads her father would sing her to sleep with as a kid. I figured we would get at least a few new members from that, but nope.

"Monika probably has a billion secret admirers at Yamaku."

"The question is," Natsuki put her elbows on the table and entwined her fingers together, setting her chin on top of her hands. She gave me a sneaky look. "Does she have one?"

We both laughed. It was a pose Monika often did when listening to one of us read out loud, or as Sayori called it, 'Monni's thinking face'. She showed us a photo from a yearbook once that had that exact pose, in one of her national debate meetings from years ago. It was almost like her trademark, a confident but alluring pose while you were hypnotized by those emerald eyes of hers. I'd hate to be on the receiving end of that stare.

The waitress came back with our drinks. "You guys ready to order?"

I set the menu aside. "Toyama sounds good for me." A favorite of labor men, its ramen noodles soaked in soy sauce with black peppers and usually a hunk of chicken for the meat. My father's favorite when he was a kid, and as Mom would always make it for him it ended up being one of my favorite, too. The saltiness gives it a real kick. Natsuki looked up and down the menu, her brow furrowing. "Ummm...uhhh…"

"I'd suggest the Tokushima, the pork belly came in fresh just this morning." the waitress offered.

Natsuki looked at me. "Hun?"

I nodded. "Sounds great."

The waitress scribbled our orders. "It'll be a few minutes." She sauntered off again.

Natsuki took a careful sip of her tea. "So, I was thinking…"

"Maybe this summer we could go on a trip or something. Out camping or hiking or whatever, in the countryside. It could be with the girls or just us."

I ripped open a sugar packet and sprinkled it in, stirring it with a straw. "I'd love that. Did you have a place in mind?"

She thought for a moment. "...Okinawa?"

"Mmm, we could stay in Ishigaki. My mom has family there, we could probably get a free tour of the area."

"I haven't been to Okinawa in so long, not since I was a kid. It was where my mom and dad met."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah." She took another sip. "He was a soldier with the US Army, thirty-something years ago. He was apart of the engineer corps, land surveying and junk. He was out in Okinawa on vacation when he went to a bar and got blackout drunk, I mean just out of it. It was my mom walking home from night school who found him, passed out in a ditch."

"Wow."

"Mhmm. So she picks him up, takes him home and got him all washed up while he's still out of it. She checked his wallet, found his address and stuck him in a cab back to the base. When he woke up, her number was stuck to his jacket."

"He woke up the next morning, stunned and trying to figure out how he got back to his room when the last thing he remembered was eating the mud as he fell off the street. He read her note, called her up…"

"And the rest," she gestures down to herself. "Is history."

"Wow, that's so…"

"Romantic?" Natsuki smiled.

The waitress came back with a steel tray, and two hot bowls of ramen. I was stunned; I was expecting some mediocre watery mess, but the ramen looked impeccable. A plump hunk of chicken swirled in the black soy sauce of my dish, and Natsuki's had the pork bellies lined up evenly against the rim of the bowl.

"Oh wow!" Natsuki clapped her hands together, and dug into her purse for her phone. "Lemme get a photo reeeal quiiick…"

I took a deep sniff; the peppers hit my nose like a shotgun. "Wow, it looks amazing." I looked up at the waitress. "Arigatō, okusama."

The waitress bowed, bemused. "Tanoshinde kudasai." She took the tray back and left.

I grabbed the chopsticks and started to swirl the noodles in the sauce, picking them up and watching the sauce drip. I stopped myself before I took a bite.

"Sorry, sorry." I set the utensils down and put my hands together. Natsuki did the same.

"Itadakimaaaa…"

Without even thinking twice, I quickly did the Naruto fire-style jutsu signs and pointed at her.

"...su!"

Natsuki burst out laughing, a genuine sweet chortle. She put a hand in front of her face to hide her wide grin, showing off her fangs. I couldn't help but smile. She's so pretty when she laughs.

After a few moments she found her breath. "You're so dumb, you know that?"

Her phone buzzed loudly.

For a moment, Natsuki didn't react to it. She opened her chopsticks and broke them apart to use. Her phone slowly bzz-bzzed once, twice, three times across the table, rattling against the wood as it vibrated. I took a sip of my tea and looked down at the table.

"...aren't you gonna get that?"

Natsuki glanced down at her phone like she didn't notice it. "Oh! Right, yeah."

Gingerly she picked it up and flipped the screen over, her face glowing in the LED reflection. Her smile dipped as she tapped it open. She scrolled through...something.

I took a small bite of my ramen and chewed slowly, feeling the salt roll across my tongue.

"I, um…"

I looked up.

"I have to go."

I blinked. "Have to go?"

She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. She neatly set her phone back down. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I j-it's my, it's my dad. He said he wants me home already. It's too dark, and he j-just doesn't want me in the rain tonight. He didn't even know I went out."

It wasn't supposed to rain.

She dug into her purse and pulled out a crumpled 50 yen note and set it on the table. "Here, it's for my share."

I put two fingers on the note and slid it back. "You don't have to, hun."

She was smiling, but the edges of her lips were curling down, like a wincing pain was driving into her soul. "No, I feel bad. I'm just leaving and I can't stiff you with the bill."

I felt my fingers play with the straw of my drink, twirling it around. "Well...if you insist."

She stalled. The air grew icy around me. Her fingers gripped the straps of her purse, running up and down the leather edge. "Kazuma, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"No no, what? What are you apologizing for?"

Her breathing was sharp, holding herself back. "Tonight was starting so good, and now this-it just, I ruined-"

"Hey hey, no. It's okay." I leaned over and grabbed her hand, holding it gently. "You're okay. It's okay. Just get home. I can drive y-"

"No no! Gosh, no! He can't see you."

"But I–"

"I'm sorry hun, he's just not…he's kind of rough around boys. I honestly don't know how he'd react to us being together. I've never been with anyone to bring home like…he just…"

She straightened up and took a breath. "I'll get a cab. He can't see you just yet. I need to break it to him before any of that happens, but it'll be soon."

She leaned forward and kissed me softly. "Okay, hun?"

I paused, feeling the taste of her balm. "Okay, hun. I love you."

She got up and gave me a hug. "I love you too…" She dug a hand into the back of my hair, leaned into my ear and whispered. "...senpai."

My face immediately went red. Natsuki giggled and tapped me on the nose. "I'll call you when I'm home, okay?"

"Okay, be safe."

She grabbed her phone and started to leave.

"Natsuki."

She turned and looked at me. I felt a tightness in my throat.

"I..If there's ever something bugging you, I hope you can tell me about it."

She nodded slightly. "I would, babe. Don't worry."

And just like that, the evening was over. Natsuki turned to the door and all I could do was watch her leave. Everything I was planning on saying, wanting to say, just fell apart in my hands with all the solidity of a sand castle against the tides. For a second I just sat in a daze, not sure how to react. The steam from the ramen bowls wafted in my face. I took a sip of my tea and it tasted like bile, tart battery acid. How could this night have gone so sour so quickly? From across the bar, the waitress glanced up at me and walked over. She gave me a sympathetic, 'there there' kinda look and walked over.

"Where's your date?"

My mouth was full of glue. "She um...she-she um…"

She frowned and patted me good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Aww," she clicks her tongue. "Cheer up, babyface. The first breakup is always the hardest. Now, will that be cash or card tonight?"

ACT THREE

THUNDERSTORMS