Sunset

After a few minutes she felt his breathing level off. She glanced up to see that Shirai had fallen asleep. She shook her head with a laugh, and pushed herself off the bed. She grabbed her clothes and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. When she emerged fully dressed, Shirai was still asleep. Deciding to leave him a quick note, she grabbed a pen and paper from the bedside table.

She wrote: Thanks for the great time, Tiger. Fresh cherries are always the sweetest. Call me. Love Your Queen of the Night.

She applied some fresh lipstick and pressed her lips to the bottom of the page.

She caught the night train back to Hinata: empty except for a few salarymen and people getting off shift work. Kitsune grabbed a free seat, rested her head against the window and dreamed.

She dreamed of a girl walking the streets on a winter’s day. A girl waiting weeks for a phone call from the man with kind eyes, professional clothes, and deft fingers. A girl who rounded the corner one winter’s day and realized Tokyo wasn’t such a big place after all, because there he was, waving; but not for her.

The girl saw a woman with a little girl run across the street, towards the man. The man smiled and reached out for the child. The girl watched the man lift his little girl into the air, laughing. There was a glint of gold on his hand that hadn’t been there before. The man drew the woman to him, and kissed her on the forehead. The woman said something. The man laughed, and they left together all three of them.

The other girl realized she’d forgotten the rules as she watched them disappear into the enveloping cold that seemed now to fill her and pierce something deep inside. She turned and walked away, determined never to visit that street corner again. A new rule formed in her heart. Rule number one: never let them close.

“Excuse me, miss. Are you all right?”

Kitsune jerked away from the window. “What?”

A man in a dark suit was looking down at her with concern. “Are you all right?” he asked, gesturing with a handkerchief in his hand.

Kitsune reached towards her cheek and came away wet. She glanced at the handkerchief in the man’s hand, and shook her head.

“No thank you,” she told him, reaching into her purse. “I have my own.”

* * *

Haitani waved his hand in front of his friend’s face.

“Shirai? You in there, bud?”

Shirai flinched. “What is it?”

Haitani looked his friend over, concerned. “You were zoned out man, like miles away.”

“Sorry.” Shirai shook his head. “Was there something you wanted?” he asked, looking down at his desk.

Haitani pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “All this cram school must be getting to you. You need to loosen up.”

“I guess,” was the murmured reply.

“Keitaro and I were going to do some karaoke. You want to come?”

“Sorry, Haitani.” Shirai shook his head. “I think I’d better just go home.”

He pushed away from his desk and grabbed his book bag, leaving his confused friend behind.

“Shirai’s not coming?” Keitaro asked later in the hallway, as the two boys struggled and side-stepped past the crush of students.

Haitani shook his head. “You think something’s bugging him? He’s been weird for the last four days.”

“Grades?” Keitaro wondered.

“No worse than usual.”

“Trouble at his job?”

“Nah, he loves that store.”

“Trouble at home, then?”

Haitani considered, then shook his head. “No way. He’d have told us.”

Keitaro scratched his head, then shrugged. “Maybe he’s in love,” he suggested, brushing past a girl with glasses, twin braids, and an orange ‘Salem’ sweater.

Haitani laughed. “Him? Where on earth would he find the time?”