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From: Nanami Saitou <saitou.nanami@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Love in the Time of the Vespa 01 {Saitou.Nanami}(hs, ff, rom,  pett, nosex)
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Date: Mon, 03 Aug 2009 02:10:02 -0400
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Author: Saitou Nanami
Title: Love in the Time of the Vespa
Summary: When my parents return to Japan, I decide to remain in the
U.S. Living with the family of my best friend. The story follows
events as our relationship deepens into a romantic entanglement.
Keywords: hs, ff, rom, pett, nosex
Part: 1 of ?
Language: English
Revision: 23a

**********

WARNING:
    This story contains adult situations and homosexual themes
involving relationships between minors. If you have not reached the
age of majority in your jurisdiction (usually 18 or 21), if the
content contained within is considered contraband in your
jurisdiction, or if access to such materials is counter-indicated in
the Terms of Service provided to you by your Internet Service
Provider, please read no further than this paragraph prior to
discarding and heuristically, or physically destroying this file.

A note from the author:
    Be a patriot of the human condition and commit a thought crime
daily, you may have less time than you think left to do so. I want to
thank Moloko, IAMX, and Goldfrapp for keeping me focused, and to thank
Konno Oyuki, and Yazawa Ai for bringing depth to a shallow genre. This
was written in Notepad++ using the speech plug-in to aid in revision.
Spell checking, was done with GNU Aspell.

    I encourage, welcome, appreciate, and intend to respond to:
comments, questions, criticism, praise, flattery, encouragement, and
abuse, just not necessarily very rapidly (this includes correcting my
crappy romanji, as I am the first to admit I suck at Japanese XD).
Please direct all such correspondence to me at:
saitou.nanami@gmail.com Do not send spam, attachments, or
solicitation.

This work is copyrighted (C) 2009 by Saitou Nanami, all rights are
reserved except as permitted in the following paragraph:

All copies, hereafter referred to as duplicate(s) must include an
exact unaltered reproduction of the entire contents of this file,
including all miscellanea and addenda. The copyright holder hereby
grants all parties authorization to produce and distribute an
unlimited number of electronic duplicates for all non-commercial
purposes. All parties are authorized to make 1 (one) physical
duplicate, for their own personal use. Inspired or derived works
utilizing themes or intellectual properties contained in this work are
expressly authorized for non-commercial purposes when appropriate
credit is given; notification of the author is appreciated but not
required.

All names, characters, events, and situations represented herein are
either fabrications, or have been altered to protect the privacy of
the individuals involved. Beyond this, any likenesses to actual
persons living or dead, or events past, present, or future are purely
incidental.

    ***

    I knew I was in trouble when my parents called me into the living
room. Both of them were sitting on one side of the kotatsu(1) which
was the main physical concession to our family origins in the home,
and refusing to look at me directly. This is normal behavior when
something needs to be discussed, but is not a comfortable topic. This
is the same way they had acted when they decided I was old enough to
warrant having "The Talk" shortly after I turned seventeen. This was
to my general mortification, seeing as I had been through sexual ed
classes, and oh so many years of teen-hood without it having yet come
up (I had hoped to avoid it entirely).

    The room was filled with a palpable tension as I hesitated in the
doorway searching my recent memory for anything I had or had not done
to land myself in trouble. I was unable to come up with something
warranting any great disapproval. My mother made an open handed
gesture indicating that I should sit across from them, as they both
continued to avoid meeting my questioning eyes.

    I suppose that you would have to understand some of the culture
differences to really get what I'm saying, but my parents are not weak
willed people who let me walk all over them, they were just both
raised very traditionally. Which to a certain lesser extent I would
say I was as well. Both of my parents are from Japan, if you haven't
figured that out yet I'll forgive you. They were born there, they grew
up there, fell in love, married there, they even conceived me there,
and as they've reminded me ever so often they intend to die there. Are
you beginning to see where I'm going with this?

    Following the mood in the room, I quietly joined my parents at the
table, tucking my skirt underneath me, and sliding my knees under the
futon. Mind you, I would usually never voluntarily sit seiza(2) unless
it was under the sharp eyes of my grandmother, who would launch into a
tersely hissed lecture if she caught anyone being anything less than
proper. However, sensing that it might make things go easier if I met
my parent's expectations of an obedient daughter than it would if I
did not, I gently settled into it.

    Visibly hesitating, my father stammered lightly for a few moments
before beginning, "Um, you are of course aware of the family's
business back home in Hokkaido?".

    Rather than pushing my luck by pointing out that 'back home' for
him was not the same as 'back home' for me, I nodded, remembering the
distillery and shop that was owned and operated as the main source of
income for my father's family in Japan. It was fairly well known for
the soba shochu(3) it produced, but it was still a small family owned
affair content to subsist solely on domestic sales.

    As I was growing up we had visited Japan during the summer about
once every three or four years. I had found that each time I went with
them, it became more and more apparent that I would probably never
really be able to live there. Oh, I could speak Japanese, at about the
same level as a preschool student. I could probably even take classes
and learn to speak the language proficiently eventually, but I
seriously had no hope of being a functioning adult there as the
written language with it's three alphabets was well beyond my grasp.
Even if I were to get past those issues, the thousands of tiny
cultural differences that made me an American would forever mark me as
a foreigner in the xenophobic eyes of the people there, despite my
appearances.

    "Then you are aware that it has been your uncle who has been
managing the family affairs since your grandfather died?" he
continued.

    Of course I remembered this, my uncle Kaito was a stolid man with
the most expressive eyebrows I had ever seen. He was almost always
smiling, and seemed to think that if I was around, I belonged either
perched on his back, or sitting on his knee. Keeping in mind that I
haven't seen him since I was fourteen, I'm certain that this opinion
of his hadn't changed. Don't for a minute think that this is because
he is some sort of lecherous monster, he is just a very indulgent man.

He dotes on each of his three daughters, giving them just about
anything they ask for even if it means he would have to go without. If
it weren't for his constant flattery of my aunt Sayuri I'm certain
this aspect of his nature would be the bane of her existence. The only
one who could make my cousins behave like something other than the
spoiled brats they are was, as you can probably guess, my grandmother.

For some reason, my rudimentary grasp on the language amused him to no
end, and I think it is the fact that he could comfortably continue to
talk baby talk with me even after his own daughters had long since
grown out of it that made him especially fond of me. He often
affectionately called me chibi-nikkei-jin, which is literally like
saying 'little emigrant', and it would have been an insult in anyone's
mouth but his.

    As I nodded, my father's frown deepened, and I realized that we
were coming to the topic he least wanted to broach. My mother nodded
and took over at this point, "Nanami-chan, your uncle has had a heart
attack, and we need to return to Japan to help out."

    Crap.
    Oh Crap.
    Crap, Crap, Crap.

    "We?" I squeaked out, and then quickly recovered enough to focus
on the more important element here, the well being of my uncle. "Is he
okay?" followed almost immediately.

    My father's grimace deepened as my mother continued on, "He will
be okay as time goes by, but he will not be able to return fully to
the duties required." She gently coughed and nudged my father with her
elbow.

    "Your presence in Japan is not required." My father managed to
almost make it sound as if I were being fired for slacking off on the
job.

    "What he means Nanami-chan is that if you wish to stay here in the
United States, we will do what we can to help you do so." She
continued, "We are aware that it would be difficult for you to
complete your schooling in Japan at this point."

    Though I was still ill at ease over my family's misfortune, this
mitigation of what I had seen as an oncoming sentence of unending
strife, greatly relieved me. "So I will stay here alone?" I asked.

    My mother nodded as my father's face began to silently explore a
number of awkward skin coloration from mildly reddish to faintly
purple. "You have given us no reason to think that you could not be
responsible enough to manage to complete the year on your own." As she
said this, I could see her hand seeking out my father's beside her, to
deliver a reassuring squeeze.

    She was obviously taking this much more easily than my father, but
that was to be expected, as it was his brother who was unwell, and his
only daughter whom he was having to 'let go' of before he had a chance
to really prepare. I was quietly glad I hadn't been seriously involved
enough in a relationship to bring home someone to introduce to my
parents yet.

    Expelling the breath he had been holding, my father said "We will
not be affording this home, you will need to find an apartment, or
other arrangement."

    It dawned on me what he was worried about. My father was concerned
that I would be out from under his watchful eye, and susceptible to
the corrupting influences of, well, goodness knows what exactly he
expected. I bet he was imagining me shacking up with some guy, and
throwing away my future becoming yet another unwed teen mother. As if,
right?

    "Would it be okay if I were to see if I could stay with one of my
girlfriends from school?", I asked. "It seems silly to rent an
apartment for just four months."

    Still on edge, my father managed "We will be glad to interview
their parents." At which my mother smiled and gently rolled her eyes
for my benefit. "If it is an acceptable arrangement, we will of course
be providing adequate compensation."

    Putting on my most adorable smile, I shuffled around to where I
could hug him, and cooed at him "Chichi, don't worry, I'll come see
you over the summer before I come back for college."(4)

    "That was a given." he said much more softly as he wrapped an arm
around my back and pulled my head to his shoulder. I could feel a tear
on my temple where he had tucked his chin in my hair before abruptly
letting go of me completely. When I sat back onto my heels, there was
no sign of anything resembling tears though, as he had obviously made
quick work of them with his free hand before releasing me.

    ***

    From the way things had gone after the initial confrontation, I
had half expected to awaken the following morning to an empty house.
While there had been a palpable anxiety during the beginning of the
exchange, to my relief things had eased enough so that my parents and
I had been able to construct a plan very rapidly and amicably.

    They had of course met a number of my friends, but few of their
parents. They had asked me who I thought would be good to approach,
and I had made a number of suggestions, a few of which had been
dismissed immediately. I can only guess that they had not approved of
their dress, or manners for some reason, as my parents really didn't
flow in the same circles as their families did.

    We ended up agreeing on three possibilities. My father had
insisted upon asking on my behalf, in order to make it absolutely
clear that we were not seeking charity, nor was I running away. I
didn't really see the need to go that far, but I figured it would be
best to give him his way.

    My first choice was my best friend Allison. I guess you could say
that if I ran in a clique, she would have been the leader. I believe
that her appeal to me was the fact that she was always the more daring
of the two of us. I always had fun when I was around her because she
was certain to cook up something I would never even dream of doing,
and then find a way to look cool doing it.

    Allison has always been confident and charismatic, quick to make
friends, easily converting all but the most stubborn of enemies to her
side. She is what you might call the sporty type, if only because she
is well coordinated and energetic. Not especially quick, or strong,
but certainly capable of doing anything she put her mind to. It seemed
like every year I had known her, she had been interested in something
new. One year, it was ballet, the next cheer leading, then karate,
followed by volleyball. Every instructor at our school was just as sad
to see her leave, as they were happy to see her join whatever team was
her flavor of the moment.

    When we were twelve we had managed to work our parents into
arranging for us both to go to the same summer camp halfway across the
country. She had quickly made a number of friends through her
tomboyish bravado, but had made it clear to everyone who sidled up to
her that I was part of the deal if they wanted to hang out with her. I
guess you might say that she had been responsible for making sure that
I didn't just shrink inside my shell and weather out the entire three
weeks without making any new friends.

    Second on the list, but certainly not my second choice, was
actually my father's suggestion. A colleague of his, who had invited
us to a number of social gatherings, his name is Itou Takahashi. I
think you can guess why he was so insistent upon including him in the
list. Mr. Itou had one daughter, Hatsuka who went to a private school.
She was no friend of mine, and had made it clear to me that she had no
wish to change that fact. If she managed to turn her nose any farther
upward at my company, she would probably have to start parting her
hair down the middle in order for it to be seen.

    Third on the list was another friend of mine from school by the
name of Rachel. She and I had both been involved in the student
government during junior high, and so our parents had met and talked
quite a bit after a few of our fund-raising efforts. Subsequently they
were actually on pretty good terms.

    Rachel's parents were from South Korea, but unlike mine they had
no real ties left overseas, and so they had put every effort into
assimilating completely with what they considered to be American
culture. My father had quietly expressed his puzzlement at their
behavior to my mother on a few occasions, but she had always turned it
back on him that I was only marginally better informed about my
origins than Rachel was.

    When High-school had started, we had actually drifted apart a
little initially, as her interests became more artistic, and mine more
literary. But in the end these interests had brought us closer
together during our junior year when we discovered that we were both
attending classes at the local junior college after school. That first
semester the classes we had been taking only overlapped on Mondays,
but we had coordinated our schedules afterward, so that we were both
heading over on the same days and getting out of class at close to the
same time.

    I'm certain it is obvious where I was not interested in living for
the next four months until I graduated high-school, besides Japan of
course, but I was equally happy with the possibility of either of the
alternatives. Both of the girls whom I considered to be the real
options were friendly and kind, they both enjoyed my company, and we
had never really quarreled. Between the two I would probably get more
studying done at Rachel's house than at Allison's, but aside from the
upcoming work in my junior college class, there wasn't much studying
to be done really. I had already completed all of the requirements for
each of my classes, as well as the senior project which each student
was required to present before they could graduate. All we really had
to do was take our finals and then go through the various ritual
senior activities such as 'ditch week'.

    As I walked into the kitchen, still pajama clad, my mother was
straightening my father's tie as he folded his newspaper into his
briefcase. With much less stiffness than the previous night, he turned
and asked me "Can you please arrange to invite Brooks-chan and her
parents over for dinner tonight, and your mother will ask Young-chan's
parents to join us for dinner the next night." I nodded sleepily, glad
that the first two people on my list were going to be the first two
people we approached.

    "I will speak to Itou-san about it today at lunch, as I will be
depending on him to take over a number of items I am responsible for
at work." Ah, well, it was to be expected that my father's list and my
list were not weighted the same. I reminded myself that even if he was
just humoring me by allowing me to float my choices, it would only be
four months that I might end up stuck with that Hatsuka.

    "Okay dad, I'll talk to her, but I really don't know if they have
anything planned or not." I sighed at the thought of where I might end
up if they all happened to already have something going on.

    He managed a noncommittal half-grunt before kissing my mother and
leaving. As soon as he was out of earshot my mother tried to comfort
me, "Don't worry too much, if I know Itou-san, when your father says
he is leaving, he will say something like: 'This puts me at a very
difficult position.' and your father won't even be able to bring up
the idea of you going to live with him."

    "I do hope so." I replied wistfully before trudging off to take
care of my daily necessities before school.

    ***

    When my oldest cousin Miu had come with my grandmother to visit us
last year, the one thing she had been most jealous of happened to be
the same thing I was most embarrassed about. When I had turned sixteen
my father had interpreted my request for a nice, small, economical
scooter to mean that I wanted him to buy me the enormous
nineteen-seventy-seven brownish Ford Thunderbird I was navigating
through morning traffic toward school. Not that the car wasn't
serviceable; every time I had needed repairs, I had been just barely
able to afford it out of the previous month's pay from my part-time
job as a cashier at a discount designer clothing store famous for
their off beat advertising, flag tees, and flip-flops. The fact that
the engine would stop running if you didn't pop it into neutral before
coming to a complete stop wasn't even that bothersome when you got
used to it. I didn't even mind that it had earned the nickname
'poo-mobile' based on its color and propensity to make a farty belch
from the tailpipe when you killed the engine.

    The problem is that I am almost five foot tall, if you let me
stand on the phone book to be measured (the yellow pages, and the
white ones too please). As you are hopefully imagining in a kindly way
this presents certain difficulties. In order to see through he wheel,
and thus over the dash, I have to keep the seat slid all the way
forward and leaning completely upright. I even have a cushion intended
for garden furniture hidden under the seat cover to help me out. But
wait, it gets better, I am also very slight of build, which is to
diplomatically say that finding certain items of my apparel which were
both age appropriate, and in the correct size is, well let's just say
god bless padding and leave it at that shall we?

    Subsequently to the eyes of your average American, I look rather
like a child taking a joy ride in someone's clunker. I might have
trouble counting the number of times I have heard the phrase 'Aren't
you a little young to be driving missie?' using the hairs on my head,
let alone fingers and toes. Once on the way to J.C. With Rachel I had
been pulled over and the officer had asked her to step out without
even speaking to me. He had immediately launched into a lecture about
how dangerous it was to let her little sister drive. If I hadn't
started waving my license out the window at him, her laughter would
have ended up landing her in handcuffs I'm certain.

    It had surprised Miu as much to learn I had my own car as I was
jealous of her for only being able to legally drive a motorbike. After
she got over her initial discomfort at being on the wrong side of the
road, she had steadily increased mine by demanding to go to places
further and further from my usual routes. I wasn't afraid of getting
lost, both of our phones had GPS, even if hers couldn't even recognize
the towns we were in, let alone help us navigate the streets. What
frightens me is that when going into unfamiliar territory, I don't
know what hazards I need to be especially careful of. Things like
being prepared to see nothing but sky when I bump up the small incline
into the school's parking lot.

    As I pulled into one of the few spots left in the student area I
tried to compose the way I would be explaining my predicament to my
two friends, because of course it would be unforgivable if I was not
the first to share this nugget of drama with them. Somehow I had to
keep up with my friendsponsibilities without taking the wind out of my
father's sails. Absentmindedly I made an assessment of the comparative
hassle of opening the three and a half foot long door on my side into
the space occupied by a generically gigantic S.U.V, or into the
expensive detail job of the overly customized rice burner on the other
side. With a sigh I rolled down the window and dropped my bag and
purse onto the ground so that I could brace myself for the humiliating
backward crawl out, as if I were a miniature version of some T.V.
Addled hick. It would truly be a blessing if someone was gullible
enough to steal it just because the window had been left open.

    At just the wrong moment, the familiar whack of Allison's field
hockey stick on my bumper turned my tenacious grasp of the door frame
into an uncontrolled free fall which landed me bridged between the
S.U.V. And the bane of my existence by virtue of my knees hooked over
the sill of my door and my shoulders propped against the other. The
way the long, but loosely flowing hippie-esque skirt I had chosen to
wear today had managed to find its way up past my hips to hang
fluttering limply like a windless flag below me was the least of my
worries as my arms flailed about in search of purchase. Allison jumped
forward to pull me up and out onto my feet laughing hard until tears
of embarrassment started to well up in my eyes.

    Cutting short, she hugged me, patting my back and probably looking
daggers at the people still laughing a little way off, for they
abruptly stopped. It was irksome to  realize that if the situation had
been reversed it would have been catcalls not laughter, and she most
likely would have reveled in it. Then the incessant waves of anxiety
that had started testing the walls of my resolve the night before put
forth a concerted attack as soon as they realized the doorway to the
waterworks was now slightly ajar. The battle was quickly lost and
Allison's concern redoubled as I buried my face against her and tried
to quietly muffle a wave of sobs.

    Between the repetition of querying "are you okay?" and stating
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Allison quickly explored my head and then my
shoulders and back, no doubt searching out a physical trigger of my
distress in the form of a cut or goose-egg. Bracing my elbow in her
hand she abruptly squatted in front of me to run her free hand under
my skirt to feel at the backs of my knees. My hand instinctively shot
down to protect my already sundered modesty, and I started to back
away blindly wiping my tears.

    "No, I'm not hurt." managed to escape my lips just in time for my
feet to find that my bag and purse had the inclination to change that
fact. Despite Alison quickly springing forward to catch at my hands, I
still fell with a bruise inducing thwack to the ground. I suppose I
can thank her that it was only my butt and not my head hitting the
sidewalk.

    With a small groan, I found my feet and gathered my belongings. I
hadn't gone more than a few feet when she said "Come on, hop on." and
squatted in front of me holding her arms out for me to climb on for a
piggy back ride. The irony of this following my reminiscence of my
uncle  Kaito doing the same was not lost on me as I carefully
positioned myself behind her. And like it was an everyday thing she
set off toward the school. It would have been impossible for her to be
convinced that the ride might hurt my vanity more than walking would
hurt my derriere.

    It was of course only then that we garnered a catcall. From a
group of boys I vaguely recognized as some sort of jocks from the
sophomore class came a shout of "Whoa, a double decker!" or perhaps it
was "double dipper", it was "double" something though, and even if the
wording is lost to me now, the meaning was clear enough to us both at
the time.

    I tightened my grip on Allison's hips and shoulders, hissing "No,
no, no, don't stop, let it go." as  she stopped, slowly turned and
gently set me on my feet. The group of boys had quickly dwindled to a
crowd of one, and I don't know if he was the slowest among them, or
just the bravest, but he was certainly the biggest, and he weathered
her withering gaze with stoic placidity.

    I knew that I was going to be the one to regret what happened next
when her arm slowly raised with a dramatically pointed finger, so I
turned to make my escape as her preposterously campy voice modulated
to a surprisingly deep timbre commanded him "You shall carry the
subject!" and I felt rather than saw him shrug as he easily swept me
(and the skirt I was starting to hate as much as the car) up into his
arms. At his prompting for a destination, she continued on with that
silly voice from a Mary Shelly inspired B-movie "To the
la-boor-ah-tour-y!"

    "I think she means infirmary" I translated, "but if you could just
put me down, I'm fine, please."

    Unfortunately it dawned on me that any scrap of luck I ever had
was truly gone from me now, for he grinned down at me as I sank into
mortified silence, and he bellowed out "Yes Master! To the laboratory
on the double Master!"

    I could feel the waves of glee radiating off of Allison as the two
of them marched me along the most roundabout way possible to the
nurse's office, keeping up the show the entire way. This is exactly
what I meant when I told you about her. I began to truly wish I had
managed to crack open my skull, as a nice quiet ride in an ambulance
would have caused less commotion.

    My great reprieve came only a few feet from the nurse's doorway as
the crowd of trailing onlookers parted around the Principal like I
would imagine herring would part around some malevolent shark floating
in an ocean current. "Miss Brooks, and Mister Taggart, What is going
on?" As wise as he was authoritatively foreboding, his incredulity had
won out against any concern for my well being to control the better
part of his curiosity.

    Not skipping a beat, Allison gave the would be Igor a shove to
keep him moving toward their intended destination before turning about
and reporting "She fell and broke her tail bone, he is taking
responsibility." Left with only that tidbit to work with as Allison
followed us into the relative safety of the nurse's domain, he set
about clearing the hall of onlookers, and restoring order along the
path off disruption we had left in our wake.

    Managing not to wince as he set me down on the barely padded
pleather surface on one of the two cots, I offered him my name "I'm
Nanami."

    "Saitou, I know, you can call me Dan" he shrugged. When I looked
at him puzzled, he scratched the back of his neck and offered "It was
your speech, when you ran for treasurer a few years back you were the
only one who took it serious."

    Remembering back all the way to eighth grade I realized he must
have been at least somewhat aware of my comings and goings for the
last four years to have kept my name ready, as I think even the
teachers I saw on a daily basis didn't bother to remember let alone
use my family name, why would they when there probably wasn't another
Nanami in the county let alone the town? Puling me from my reverie he
shifted from foot to foot and asked "would you, maybe like to go out
sometime?"

    As I searched through my surprise to find an adequately gentle
rebuff, Allison bounced into place on my other side, and scooped up my
hand as she said "ahhh, sorry, you're too late, she's already fallen
for me." Which was off beat enough to elicit a chuckle from him, while
I merely groaned at her punny attempt at wit. The rebuff still stood
though, and he got over the disappointment easily enough, as he wasted
no time begging off so that he could make his class on time.

    "You're welcome." She said.

    "What for?"

    "He was a goober, standing there drooling over you like that."

    "He knew my name." I retorted.

    "So do I, you gonna date me now?"

    Laughing, I goaded her, "you're the goober, marching me around
like that" as the nurse, Ms. Cuthbert walked through the doorway into
her office.

    "It must not be too bad if you can laugh about it, Miss Nanami."

    At the same moment, I said "really I'm fine" Allison said "she's
broken!" Which earned a glare from both of us.

    "Miss Brooks, do you have an ailment?" Ms. Cuthbert asked in a
tone that would not tolerate any nonsense.

    "No, but..."

    Cutting Allison off, she retorted "I thought not, you can go to
class, or you can wait next door in the office, your choice. Get my
door on your way out."

    Sighing, Allison made her withdrawal, and Ms. Cuthbert proceeded
with her cursories "so what's wrong?"

    "I tripped and fell onto my butt, but it's not as bad as she made
it out." I told her.

    "The fact that you can sit on it is a good sign. Do you want a
doughnut to sit on?" She asked as she scribbled on a pad.

    As I told her "no thanks." she handed me two sheets.

    "That will get you both into class, come see me if it starts to
hurt. I believe you'll find Miss Brooks just outside the door." she
said as she hooked her thumb over her shoulder at the exit.

    ***

    Sitting at the bench of the picnic table on the far side of the
courtyard which had served as our lunchtime refuge whenever weather
had permitted, Rachel, Allison, and I went over the way electrons
spinning against each other defined the shape of the electron cloud
around an atom yet again, attempting to construct an adequate
explanation to penetrate Allison's good humored density. Don't
misunderstand me, she was a natural with chemistry, and seemed always
able to predict exactly what would happen when we started in on a lab.
But when we had left the beakers and burners to start discussing the
basics of quantum physics that guided the reactions she understood so
well, somehow it just hadn't added up for her.

    Sighing, I gave up and popped a pair of electron olives into my
mouth while Rachel still attempted to conjure a shape out of thin air
with her hands. I still hadn't divested my news, and as the day wore
on it would only become more difficult. Summoning my resolve, and
swallowing my doubts with my elemental particles, I decided to just
get on with it.

    "My parents are moving back to Japan."

    The table went silent, Rachel's hands dropped, and she looked back
and forth between Allison and I as if she knew that the complexities
this presented would be slowly dropping into place like puzzle pieces.

    "When?" Allison got directly at the critical point.

    "Soon, probably a week or so, my Uncle had a heart attack, so they
have to go back and help out."

    "When will you be back?" Rachel asked.

    "I don't think they are planning on coming back. At least not
permanently." I stated as succinctly as I could.

    "No, You can't leave like this, we didn't even graduate!" Allison
protested poutily.

    "That's just it, I think they're thinking about letting me stay here."

    "All by yourself?" Rachel's incredulity was well founded.

    I shrugged though, and simply said "I think they're trying to find
a way around that, they wanted me to ask your family over for dinner
tonight Allison, and my mom said she was going to talk to your mom
today Rachel."

    "I can't imagine your dad likes that idea." Rachel shrugged "but
I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind, you know what it's like at my house
though."

    I nodded remembering the crowded coziness of the small home that
Rachel's father took immense pride in having bought outright for cash.
It would afford the affects of another teenage girl about as easily as
you could use a whole chicken as stuffing for a turkey.

    Turning to watch Allison's face as she spoke, she clarified
"unless you don't mind the couch or the floor, you would have to sleep
with me."

    I sensed an unknown undercurrent flowing beneath the surface of
the conversation, but there was a definite finality when Allison
pronounced "no, you're staying with me." as she stood up to throw away
the remainder of her food. She trotted back towards the school headed
in the general direction of the office.

    Turning back to Rachel, I sighed "I was going to eat that." and
she choked a laugh past a sip of water.

    "You gotta be quick around her." she pointed out, "you two really
deserve each other." she laughed.

    Feeling like I had missed something, I said "thanks" in that tone
of voice that really means 'Fuck you too.'

    ***

    When Rachel and I got to the T-bird in the parking lot, Allison
had already planted herself in the back seat waving at us as if the
gesture would make us break into a run to join her. Pushing my bag in
the window behind the seat to fall onto the floor of the back seat as
the S.U.V. From the morning pulled out of its spot leaving little
doubt as to how she had gotten in.

    "We've still got classes, and you have practice." Rachel reminded
her as she opened the door on the far side.

    "Canceled." came Allison's simple but obvious lie.

    I pulled the little black rubberized catch which allowed the seat
to flip forward hard enough to sound a short beep on the horn with the
headrest. "They made a special exemption to let you start playing as a
senior" I chided her.

    "Fine then I quit, this is too important." She hunched back in the
seat pouting at me.

    Sighing, I flipped the seat back to it's usual upright position
and settled behind the wheel. "Suit yourself but we're still going to
class." Ignoring the whined protests from the back seat, I went on,
"and you're not following me to my class to pester me either, you can
go with Rachel and help her out."

    "I'm not babysitting her, she's your child" Rachel quipped as I
pulled the gear lever down to reverse and blew the horn to warn any
potential victims that I was about to roll.

    "She could power a pottery wheel, or pose nude or something." I shot back.

    Kicking the back of my seat to punctuate the exception she took to
this Allison said "You'd like that wouldn't you!"

    Rachel sighed theatrically, "I guess you better just leave the
windows cracked so she doesn't suffocate, hopefully nobody will be
scared by her barking." Which prompted Allison to tickle Rachel
mercilessly around the seat until we reached the freeway on-ramp, at
which point Rachel shouted out "Hold on to something!" and made quick
in taking her own queue.

    Allison looked up and said "Hoshit" before throwing herself back
and clicking the child-locking mechanism on the seat belt tight around
her.

    This was why I really loved this car despite its many drawbacks,
it was still a Thunderbird, even if it looked like shit, and at some
point in it's past someone had put a lot of love into it. I punched
the gas as soon as we hit the ramp and the car awoke like a lion
roaring and rearing underneath us. The back end fishtailed slightly at
the top end of the curve, where we came parallel to the roadway, but I
was used to that and a small twitch of the wheel and a quick pump on
the gas pedal and everything was sorted out. I gunned the engine again
and we hit the freeway, flying from the end of the short acceleration
lane at about sixty-five (about 105 kph) to squeeze between two
lumbering semi's and out into the middle lane where I goosed it up to
eighty (about 125kph) and left their blaring horns behind.

    Here, on the freeway, for fifteen short minutes in each direction,
I was truly a menace to the motoring public, but both girls shared my
exuberance, hooting out Rachel's window as we flew towards the next
town over, where the J.C. Campus was. Now, pulling the same sort of
stunt on the off-ramp was not nearly as easy, and two out of the three
times I had tried it Rachel and I had ended up facing the wrong
direction at the light at the end of the ramp. The reason I mention
this is because when we passed the truck weigh station that preceded
our exit at full speed, she turned and shouted "No!"

    I grinned like a demon, and then Allison started screaming
"Brakes! Brakes!" As I nosed onto the off-ramp obliging her, I slammed
my foot on the brakes and steered into the turn, throwing everyone and
everything forward inside the massive machine as I felt for the magic
moment when the lighter rear end would break traction. My heart
thudded in my throat once and then I felt it, spinning the wheel full
round against the curve, and gunning the engine, we whipped around the
curve and came to a shuddering stop halfway between the mouths of the
off-ramp, and the on-ramp in a sea of yellow stripes, I had gone wide
from the lane, but we were facing the right way. The engine of course
had done it's trick of dying when we stopped, as I hadn't had an extra
hand to pop it in neutral.

    Rachel laughed while clutching her chest and exclaimed, "You crazy
little bitch!"

    It was Allison, who was less used to riding with me on the freeway
who snaked her arm out to try and steal the keys, with no luck as they
wouldn't disengage while I was in drive. I slapped at her hand and put
it in park so I could restart the engine. She begged from the back
seat "Please, please, please never ever do that again!"

    Smiling but not saying anything I resumed my granny style driving
until we got parked at the campus. Getting shakily out of the car,
Allison pulled her bag out with her, and asked Rachel where the
nearest bathroom was. She shot me a look of death before setting off
holding her bag behind her as she went. I glanced down at the seat and
laughed when I saw the softball sized wet spot on the seat.

    Rachel, already having realized what happened shouted after her
"Bad girl! We do that outside! Not in the car!" as if poor Allison had
been a dog after all.

    "I seem to remember you having done the same thing once," I said
as I dropped my school bag into my trunk and grabbed out the bag I
kept my J.C. Stuff in.

    "She doesn't need to know that though." Rachel said.

    "I think maybe she does," I countered, "you saw how shook up she was."

    She shrugged, "you gonna skip class and take her home?"

    "Do you think I should?"

    "Probably... I can get a ride if you want." she suggested.

    "No, we'll find something to do and meet you back here when your
class is over." I dropped the bag back into the trunk and trotted off
after Allison.

    Stepping into the room I called out "Allie-doodles, are you okay?"

    From the farthest stall she responded with more than a little
sarcasm "Oh, I'm just great, piddled myself in your car is all, like a
kid."

    "Would it make you feel better if I said I had my employee
discount card with me?" I asked the closed stall door.

    "I thought you had class."

    "I did, but I'll survive. I feel guilty Allie."

    "Are you paying?"

    "One top and one bottom, I can't afford a new wardrobe for you."

    She flushed and the stall door creaked open. She was wearing her
hockey shorts, and still looking ruffled. "you have to promise never
to do something like that again."

    I sighed, "fine, I promise never to take an off-ramp too fast
again." Her eyes narrowed at all the things the promise didn't entail,
but relented anyway. Grabbing her hand I pulled her back towards the
car. The spot had almost dried by the time we hit the local store of
the company I worked at.

    The manager on duty was a girl who had been promoted out of my
store. We stood near the registers chatting for a bit about the
comings and goings of the people we knew at the two stores while
Allison looked at the stuff up front near the windows, which is to say
she was looking at the newest, most expensive stuff in the store.
Sighing, I asked if there was anything new back in clearance, which
got a non-committal "who knows what's back there?"

    Laughing, I grabbed up a handful of red tagged go-backs from the
counter behind the cashiers and headed off to wrangle my friend.
Interrupting her search, I thrust half of the pile at her, "They put
me to work, you come help, these all go in clearance." and so we made
the journey past the overpriced features, end caps, and mid-aisles to
the chaos of the clearance section. As we found homes for all the
stuff in the bundle I got the lay of the land.

    Now, I don't know about other stores, but in our brand there are
usually two clearance areas, the general one, and then the secret one
within. At first it might look as if it is the spot where anything
that doesn't have a home is shoved, but in truth it's where all the
really good stuff gets put to age. As seasons and styles shift across
the aisles, all the leftovers get cheaper to encourage sales, the
longer it sits, the cheaper it gets, and the bigger the store the
easier it was to hide. It was generally an unspoken agreement that you
only pulled out what you put in, but there was no helping it if a
customer managed to sort out your faves, and since this wasn't my
store, today I was a customer. I had managed to score a two year old,
but timelessly styled, hundred and eighty dollar wool pea coat for
fifteen bucks by poaching in this manner once.

    Waving Allison over to what appeared to be a bunch of hideous
madras tents, She took one look and said "I don't care how cheap those
are, I'd rather wear my pee pants."

    I moved the crap out of the way, only to reveal a collection of
mini skirts, embroidered and quilt patched jeans, stretchy long
sleeved v-neck sweaters whose thin material gave out an inch or two
above the waist to leave a little bit of midriff exposed, vertically
ribbed cotton camisoles, and nearly see through extra long layering
tees with large floral patterns died into them. All of it was in pinks
and whites, with the exception of the jeans, but someone had good
taste. It was almost a shame to pilfer the stash, but almost
everything there was Allison's size, so she scurried off with the
majority of it bundled in her arms to make her assault on the changing
rooms while I searched on in hopes of finding an elfin sized deposit.
When I finally found one, it turned out to mostly be crap, so I just
left it be, and went to see the fashion show.

    She was already out and wearing the jeans and one of the white and
pink patterned translucent tees which spilled down past her hips. Her
beige bra was clearly visible underneath. "what do you think?" she
asked.

    "Well, you either need another layer on the top, or something
else, but I like the way it goes with the jeans to show off your waist
and hips." Smiling broadly she spun and pulled on a cream colored
sweater, and I realized she had already decided this was the outfit
she wanted, but she had gotten me to say she needed another top in
order to weasel past my one top, one bottom limitation.

    Sighing I said "give me the tags so I can go pay, and you put the
rest back."

    "That won't be necessary." The attendant said.

    "Do you know whose stash it was?" I asked her.

    When she nodded, taking the hangers from Allison, I told her "tell
her thanks for me, and let her know there's still at least three pair
of the jeans left in [my store]."

    Tags in one hand, jersey and shorts in the other, she skipped
happily along like a kid with a new toy, her attitude as completely
transformed as her outfit. She chirped along beside me about what we
should do next. Checking the time stamp on the receipt, I informed her
that we had to pick up Rachel in an hour so her idea of going to the
movies was out.

    "Let's just go to the bookstore then!" she said obviously trying
to pander to my interests rather than hers.

    It was just a couple of stores down so we dropped the bag with her
jersey into the trunk of the car and then wandered over and into the
coffee bar that was conjoined with the bookstore to get a pair of
frou-frou-she-she drinks that were almost more whipped cream than
coffee. She followed me over to the area where the meager collection
of manga was kept. I picked out a couple volumes of a series I had at
home but liked reading over again periodically, and she picked out
some god awful romance where every girl's eyes exploded with sparkles
and every boy was basically a girl without a halo of sparkles. We
found a loveseat with a table in front of it for our drinks and got
busy wasting time. It wasn't long before she dropped the book on the
table and tucked her feet up into the chair so that she was leaning up
against me as she sipped her coffee.

    I felt more like a prop than anything else, but I wasn't really
surprised when she reached out and spread her sweater clad hand in
front of my book. She had always been more of a 'girl doing' than a
'girl being'. Now that we had put coffee in her that would only be on
the increase. I smiled sweetly at her and set down the book in favor
of the coffee. "So," I said, "what's next?"

    "How much time do we have left?" she asked.

    I pulled the sweater back on her arm to expose her watch and
checked the time, "Thirty minutes. Wanna just head that way?" I asked,
to which she nodded vigorously. We finished our drinks outside the
store because my car had been built before the invention of cup
holders.

    Heading back to the car, Allison, still chirpy, trotted ahead of
me some ways; and I noticed again how good the clothes really did look
on her. I was glad that she was happy again, and even happier that it
hadn't broken the bank. There was a real give and take in our
friendship though, and I knew that the favor would undoubtedly be
returned at some point in the near future.

    I made my way carefully back to the J.C., all the while I got the
definite feeling that if it had not been for the disparity in the
position between the driver seat, and the combination passenger plus
hump seat, she would have been leaning on me just as she had in the
book store. This huggily snuggily cuddily affectionate side of her was
nothing new, but usually was held in reserve to a greater extent when
in public. Not having come from a family disposed to great amounts of
physical displays of affection, it had been off putting initially when
we had played together as children, but perhaps that is more a
reflection of the isolation of the only child than over exuberance on
her part.

    We found a spot in the lot close to where we had dropped Rachel, I
rolled the windows down and then hopped out. Allison had already
scooched herself back to sit on the hood with her heels dangling past
the bumper, and was beckoning for me to join her. I sat on the hood
between her knees and propped my feet on the bumper, allowing her to
wrap her arms around my shoulders and pull me back so that I leaned
against her with my head nestled under her chin. It was quite nice to
be perfectly honest. Besides which, I knew better than to make her
chase me down when in a mood like this, she had at least twenty pounds
of muscular advantage over my clumsiness, and her glomps could be
brutal.

    "You really do spoil her you know." Rachel tsk-tsked at us as she
walked up to us where we sat against the hood of the car in the
parking lot. "Looks good though, who picked it out?"
    Allison immediately piped out that I had been the one to select
the outfit, almost making it sound as if I had also personally put the
clothes on her.

    ***

    Standing in the corner of the Brooks' kitchen where the old wall
hanging phone guarded against the insidious threat of technological
advancement in the passing of time, I punched out my number into the
keypad with a hand already wrapped nervously in the absurdly long
pigtail cord.

    "Moshi moshi"(5) my mother answered the phone in a sing-song way.

    Despite the sixteen hour time difference which made it only about
nine in the morning in Japan, my mother must have been expecting a
call, or she never would have answered the phone that way. My mind
raced as I made the connection that this probably meant someone had
already called her. "What's happened mom?" I asked, feeling suddenly
panicky.

    "Nothing has happened Nanami-chan, I've just been talking with
your aunt is all." she said soothingly.

    "How is she?" I asked.

    "She is okay, but anxious to have us there."

    "Have you talked to dad?" I dreaded the answer.

    "Yes, you have no need to worry."

    "Great, cause the Brooks are all coming over. Um, what are you
making for dinner?"

    "Nanami, we are just as worried about making the right impression
as you are."

    "Mom, Allison, and her little sister Ellison are going to be there
too, I need to know what to warn them about."

    The story goes that when Allison had been born, they had
deliberately not chosen a name until after She had been born, I'm not
entirely certain why; but when they had handed her to Mrs. Brooks for
the first time, she smiled down at her and said "Indigo Allison
Brooks" a few times before falling asleep. Mr. Brooks had saved
Allison a lifetime of teasing by registering her birth certificate as
Allison Indigo Brooks. It had worked out well enough the first time so
they decided to do it the same way again. This time, Mrs. Brooks had
said "Oh my beautiful Allison Indigo". And I think you can figure out
the rest.

    "Oh, well, your father is bringing home sushi from the city, so
I'm making miso shiru."(6)(7) She said as I wondered why she thought I
would object to that.

    "Oh! Ask him to get me a natto-maki and some tomago. Do we have
the stuff to make burgers just in case?"(8)(9)

    "I think so, let me look." I listened as she rattled off what she
had on hand "onions, tomatoes, eggs, meat."

    "Don't use eggs Mom, actually, just let me make them if we need
to. What about buns and cheese and lettuce?"

    "Oh, no we don't have those." she admitted, not surprising me in the least.

    "I'm gonna bring Allie and Ellie over with me now, do we need
anything else from the store?"

    "Cokes, and maybe rubber bands, do you have money?" she asked.

    "I should have enough mom, why do you need rubber bands?"

    "For the waribashi."(10a)

    "Ahhh... okay, we'll be there shortly."

    As I hung up the phone three sets of eyes were carefully studying
my face for clues as to what to expect. Embarrassed at the sudden rapt
attention, I felt my cheeks flush, but it was Mrs. Brooks who broke
the spell by asking "Well are you going to warn us or not?"

    I nodded, and started spelling it out for them, "My dad is buying
sushi, and my mom is making a soup to go with it." looking across
their faces was like reading a set of flash cards, Mrs. Brooks was
relieved, Allison was eager, and Ellison's crinkly nose gave her look
of dread a tinge of disgust.

    "Raw fish?" Ellison asked dubiously, "that's why you're gonna make
burgers right?"

    Allison jumped right into teasing mode, "no way scroat! The
burgers are for them cause we're the guests!" at which I slapped her
shoulder.

    Mrs. Brooks chided her daughters, "Allie, don't call her that.
Ellie, Don't believe your sister, Nanami will help you pick stuff you
will like." Which sent both girls poking their tongues out at each
other. Turning to me she said "Don't let them get away with anything,
they are to be polite and helpful." Then she faced her two girls
again, "Nanami's in charge, you do what she says, I'm gonna start
getting ready." She started to walk off but turned just in time to
catch me poking my tongue out at Allison and Ellison, "almost forgot,
what time?"

    "Oh, anytime after sevenish should be okay." I told her thinking
that would give us two hours easy to get everything ready.

    She nodded and winked conspiratorially at me before pointing a
warning finger at her daughters, and then walking off into the
interior of the house. Almost immediately they both started bombarding
me with questions, so I just herded them towards the door, promising
to tell them all they needed to know in the car. If we went over it
all before leaving, we'd never get there. Once everyone was situated,
I held up my hand and said "let me tell you everything I can think of
first, then you can ask questions, okay?" to which they both echoed
'okay' as I began navigating my way to the grocery store.

    "First off, If they offer you anything to drink but coffee, tea,
or coke, don't take it, you won't like it, I promise. When they offer
you tea, always accept it, smell it, say thank you, and then let it
sit because it will be too hot to drink right away, even if you blow
on it. Make sure you at least take a sip when it cools down, it won't
be sweet, but it won't be bitter either, more like nutty, and you
don't have to finish it but you must at least taste it."

    "When you sit at the table it's okay to sit Indian style, but keep
your knees underneath. Don't ever leave your utensils in a dish, watch
where I put them when I set mine down. There will be a spoon with the
soup, you can use it if you want, but it is also okay to drink it from
the bowl it's served in, that way you don't have to put down your
chopsticks. Don't worry we're gonna make you some cheater
chopsticks(10b). You will like the soup, it doesn't have any fish at
all, just tofu and a few greens."

    "Before you start eating, you put your hands together like you are
praying and say 'Ih-tah-dock-eee-mas' all run together to sound like
Itadakimasu, which basically means 'thanks for the meal' and when you
are done you say 'Go-chee-soh-sama desh-tah' all run together to sound
like Gochiso-sama Deshita, which basically means that the meal was
delicious."

    "With the sushi, the rolled up ones are called maki, if it doesn't
look like bright red or pink meat, it probably isn't raw, which
doesn't mean you will like it, but if you decide to try it, you should
only grab one at first, and if you can manage to, finish it even if
you don't like it. Some will be spicy but most of it will be bland.
The idea is to take your time eating it so that you can appreciate the
flavors. If you're not sure, it is okay to ask first what something
is. The green paste is wasabi, and it is hot like the hottest
horseradish you ever tasted. The pink stuff is pickled ginger, you may
or may not like it, you don't have to eat either of them, but a lot of
people mix a little wasabi into their soy sauce before dipping the
sushi in it."

    "The other pieces are called nigiri, that's 'nee-ghee-rhee' and
for the most part they will be raw fish. Shrimp and crab is always
cooked. If it looks like eggs you are probably right. The ones that
look like a yellow rectangle on top of the rice are eggs, like from a
chicken, that have been cooked, they will be sweet. If you decide to
try the nigiri, you only dip the rice part in the soy sauce, and you
put it in your mouth with the topping side facing your tongue, It
takes practice to do with the chopsticks, so if you want to pick it up
from your own plate with your fingers that will be okay."

    "Our parents have to discuss some important things, so they will
expect us to leave the room after we've eaten, even though it's mostly
us that they will be talking about. At that point we can do pretty
much whatever we want." and that brought us to the grocery store. As
we got out of the car and headed in, I let them know I was done with
my spiel "Okay... now we can do questions, one at a time."

    Ellison went first, "Can we stay over?"

    At that Allison gave her a little shove, "She's my friend, dork."

    "She said we could do whatever we want, Hercules" Ellison taunted back.

    "It's actually a pretty good idea. You'll have to ask your parents
first though."

    "What is Nado?" Allison asked.

    "Ahhh... that's my favorite, it's pronounced Na-toh with a pause
between the 'Na' and the 'toh', and it's fermented soybeans. The trick
is to eat it without smelling it, because it smells really bad but
tastes really good. You guys can both try it if you want, nobody but
me will eat it."

    "And tomago?" aked Ellison.

    "That's the sweet rectangle shaped eggs I was telling you about.
Good job remembering how it was pronounced though!"

    "Do we get to wear Kimonos?" Ellison asked.

    I couldn't help but laugh. "If I had one, I would let you wear it
for sure, but the only one we have is my mother's, it's very
expensive, and it would be a little too big for you anyway. We do have
a few Yukatas, which are similar, but lighter and made out of cotton
for wearing during the summer. I'll show you the ones from when I was
younger if you like, but they won't fit any of us. Nobody's going to
be dressed up anyways."

    The questions seemed to dry up there and so we finished the
shopping and got back to the car in relative quiet as they both seemed
to be mulling everything over. Once we were rolling again, Allison
asked "Can we practice the before and after we eat phrases?"

    I smiled and we rode the rest of the way to my house repeating
'Ih-tah-dock-eee-mas', and 'Go-chee-soh-sama desh-tah' together, with
Ellison picking it up a lot quicker than Allison.

    When we got home, I parked the beast over it's customary oil spot,
and tried to load the girls evenly with stuff from the store. Poking
my head into the house, I called out "Tadaima!"(11) and started to toe
off my shoes to put into the rack by the door.

    My mother's answering "Okaeri!"(12) echoed from the general area
of the kitchen. She had already set four pair of flip-flops on the
floor pointing inward just past the tile of the entryway. There was no
step up like there would have been, but the delineation was just as
clear, and living in a western style house in America had made little
impact on a number of customs we had brought from Japan. There was
also a pair of larger, heavier sandals beside the door of each
bathroom, and just outside the back door was another collection of
flip-flops.

    Allison, who was used to the drill, slipped off her shoes, and
pulled her socks between her toes before slipping on her usual pair of
yellow flip-fops. Noticing Ellison grimace slightly I told her "you
can go in your socks if you want" taking the groceries from her.

    When Allison and I walked into the kitchen, my mother was drying
her hands on a towel, and she welcomed Allison with a smile, "It is
nice to see you again today Allison, is your sister with you today? I
had hoped to see her again, it has been a long time." Ellison stepped
shyly around the doorway into the kitchen, her fingers twined behind
her back. They both nodded and smiled at each other.

    "Would you like something to drink? Should I make us tea?" my
mother asked politely. "What about cake?" she winked at Ellison, who
had begun to nod enthusiastically.

    "Is there anything that still needs to be done?" I asked my mother.

    She nodded, "You can help me put away the futon from the kotetsu,
but that will wait."

    I started putting away the groceries that we had brought with us,
as my mother went about making tea, and slicing a few pieces of a cake
that she pulled out of the refrigerator. Once I was done with putting
everything away, I pulled Allison away from her study of the pieces of
cake, and into the living room to help me with the kotetsu. We pulled
off the table top, setting it aside, then rolled up the futon, and I
carried it into my room. We carefully set the tabletop back in place,
and I removed the electrical cord from the heater underneath.

    My mother then came in with a tray bearing the tea and cake, with
Ellison trailing behind her, visibly chewing on what was undoubtedly
some sort of sweet my mother had given her once we slipped out of the
kitchen. She set the tray down and arranged everything around the
table.

    Ellison sat down at the table, pressed her hands together and
intoned "Itadakimasu."

    Clapping her hands together, my mother beamed down at Ellison and
said "Aa sugoi! Anata wa Nihon-jin desu-ka? Watashi mo Nihon-jin
desu." At this Ellison turned to me wide eyed.

    "Kaa-san, dameyo. Sore wa hazukashii." I turned to Ellison and
said "she asked if you were Japanese, because she is also Japanese."

    "And what did you say?" Ellison asked.

    I blushed, "I told her not to say stuff like that because it is
embarrassing"

    "How do I say 'No, I'm American.'" Ellison asked.

    "Iie, watashi Amerika-jin desu." My mother sounded it out slowly for her.

    Allison poked her sister, "If you're not careful she will make you
teach her the whole language tonight" she warned.

    "Oh, it's okay, it is good to be curious, they wait so long before
they start teaching other languages here." my mother beamed.

    As we sipped our tea, and ate our cake, we made small talk,
punctuated frequently by Ellison asking my mother how to say one thing
or another in Japanese. The time was pleasantly spent; our cups and
plates were all too soon empty. When I started to collect up
everything onto the tray, my mother sighed, and then stood up and
preceded me into the kitchen.

    "Why don't you show Ellison Nanami's room?" My mother suggested to Allison.

    "I will be in shortly." I promised them, then carried the tray out
to set it on the counter in the kitchen. "So, what's wrong?" I asked
my mother. It wouldn't have been apparent to most people, but I could
tell from the way she had been acting with us in the living room that
something was up.

    "Oh, well, Nanami-chan, we have to go sooner than we thought. Your
Uncle has to have some surgery done, and your grandmother has
collapsed from worry. Sayuri cannot take care of them both, and your
cousins, well, you know how your cousins are."

    "How soon?" I asked.

    "Your father will be flying out first thing tomorrow morning, and
I will follow him as soon as you are settled, and our affairs are in
order here."

    "Wow, that is quick." was all I could manage to say.

    "I know it may sound strange, but It would make it easier for him
if you were not here to say goodbye to." my mother said quietly.

    "So what? You want me to just go, and not see him at all tonight?"
I asked incredulous.

    "No, that is not what I mean. I just think that if you were to say
goodbye tonight, and spent the night with Allison, it would make it
much easier for him to leave in the morning."

    "Ah, no, that makes sense in a dad sort of way." I sighed. "I'm
sure that they won't have a problem with it. Allison has already
decided I'm living with them no matter what you decide anyway."

    My mother laughed. "She has always been very stubborn, like your
father, I think." she sighed, "Ellison is a very good girl too, I
think that you will be in good care with them." between us passed a
rare moment of tenderness, and she wrapped her arms around my
shoulders and hugged me for a few moments.

    "Are you okay Mom?" I asked.

    She sighed again. "I am going to miss you, that is all. I wish we
hadn't left off trying to teach you Japanese, so that you could come
with us and just finish school there."

    I hugged her tight, not bothering to fight the tears that welled
up in my eyes. "I love you mom, and dad too." I assured her, "we will
talk on the phone, and I will visit, and you will visit, but I don't
think I would want to move to Japan for good, even if I did fit in
there."

    "I know, I know, but you are my precious daughter, watachi no
taisetsu hitorimusume." She squished my face in her hands and kissed
my forehead before letting me go to wipe away her tears.

    I wiped at my own eyes, and told her "No more crying, or the miso
will be too salty." I smiled, and we both had a thin laugh at the
joke. I stopped on my way back to my room, and washed my face in the
sink, but the only thing that would give me away was a very mild
redness to my eyes. I took a deep breath and held it, puffing my
cheeks out, and shook my hands in front of my chest loosely, as one
would do to awaken a limb gone numb, before quickly exhaling.

    When I trotted back to my room, Ellison was on the floor, propped
up on her elbows reading one of my manga, it was an older one I had
found in a used book store so the paper was pretty crappy and had
faded considerably, and the pages were all reversed so that it read
like a comic book rather than a manga. Allison was curled up on the
corner of my bed her back against the wall with her knees held up
under her chin. She had an eyebrow cocked at me as if she were
silently saying 'well?'

    I playfully stepped on Ellison's butt before hopping up onto my
bed. "Sorry kiddo, no can do on staying here tonight."

    She rolled over and whined, "Aww, why not? Is it cause I was
asking all that stuff?"

    "Nope, not at all, I'm sure if you asked, my mom would take you
back with her." I sighed, "It's just kind of complicated, so I'm gonna
spend the night with you guys if that's okay."

    Allison's eyebrow ratcheted up another notch, and she asked
"Shouldn't you be spending as much time with them as you can before
they leave?"

    "Well that's just it, my dad has to leave tomorrow, and it would
be better to say goodbye tonight." I tried to explain.

    "That makes no sense whatsoever." Ellison pointed out.

    Almost as if we were reading from the same script, I said "you
don't know my dad." at the same time Allison said, "you don't know her
dad, jinx."

    I rolled my eyes and punched her in the calf, and she half-yelled
"All right! All right! Nanami!" and laughed while rubbing her leg.

    "So you guys gonna just watch, or do you wanna help me pack up
some stuff?" I asked them.

    "What do you want us to do?" Ellison asked.

    "You can start by pulling the stuff I usually wear to school out
of my closet, and folding them up so that I can put them into my
suitcase, which I'll go get from the garage."

    Allison hopped off of the bed and opened up my closet, telling her
sister "I'll pick, you fold." which started a mini-argument I didn't
stick around to follow. Instead, I poked my head in on my mother, who
was drinking another cup of tea as she talked softly on the phone. I
smiled at her and then ducked out to the garage to grab my suitcases.

    They were a nestling set of three soft sided bags. All of them had
rollers, and when you linked the three of them together, you could
pull them along like a family of elephants holding each other's tail.
This wasn't really feasible for regular use, and had held ample
frustration for me when I had used them on our last trip to Japan.

    Now those of you who have never had to travel abroad in order to
visit family may not understand why there would be a need for three
suitcases. Understand that when we made these visits, my father would
fly there with me, and spend what time he could spare from his work
visiting with his family, in whose care I would be left. Then, some
time near the end of the summer, my mother would fly out and pick me
up to spend two weeks visiting with her family.

    With that in mind consider this, all young girls have necessities,
and though toiletries are among them, they are not the whole of them.
A favorite pillow, an important book, a stuffed animal, there is an
endless variety of things that one cannot do without, and as her age
changes so do these necessities. The smallest, innermost bag is solely
for these. Then there is the middle bag to hold months worth of
clothing to cover every possible need or occasion, with spares of
everything to cover the inevitable losses. The third, and largest case
would have a minor fraction of its space located to shoes, but the
majority of it would be crammed with gifts, both going, and coming
back.

    I figured that now was as good a time as any to make a start in
packing up the things I would want to bring with me to Alison's house.
And so today we would put all three of the cases to use, It wouldn't
take long really, as there was no need to make the various decisions
on what to take, and what not to take, there would be time for that
later. The essentials are quintessential though. Clothes, a girl has
to have clothes to live, and all the accessories and accoutrements
that make clothing into an outfit. I frowned, trying to figure out how
much space I would be able to steal from Allison as I maneuvered the
suitcases through the house towards my room.

    "Okay" I announced "we're gonna start with the big bag, and work
from there." I flopped it up onto the bed and threw the lid up, so
that it propped against the wall. "I want the stuff I wear everyday in
here first, and then we'll see where we're at."

    Ellison started arranging the things they had already pulled out
and set aside in the suitcase, and I turned to my dresser to go after
the essentials, socks, tights, panties, bras (shhh! I don't want to
hear it), pajamas, and whatnot else. With an armful, I turned back to
the suitcase and then turned back to drop it all back into the
dresser, as I sighed in exasperation.

    I put my hand on Ellison's shoulder, and she stopped what she was
doing. "Allison dear?" I called sweetly.

    "Yes darling?" she said as she poked her head out from behind the
sliding door that would cover either one side, or the other of my
shallow, very non-walk in closet.

    "What do you think you are doing?" I asked, with the sweetness of
honey dripping from the words.

    "Picking out the stuff you should wear every day, just like you
said." She rolled her eyes at me theatrically.

    I held up a top I had worn ONCE, it was a pale paisley print
baby-doll with cap sleeves. The important element here is that while
it is one thing to accept (albeit grudgingly, and with much chagrin)
the fact that I have a body comparable to that of the thirteen year
old standing next to me, it is quite another thing to -look- like a
thirteen year old, which is pretty much what it accomplished. "What I
said, Is that I wanted the things I -do- wear every day, I'm not a
paper doll."

    But you look adorable in that." Allison whined from inside the closet.

    I riffled through the collected clothes, and picked out about a
half dozen things I would never wear and handed them to Ellison,
"here, try these on, and if you like them, they're yours."

    Ellison began to protest "But they're..." but I held up my hand to
stop her short.

    "They're new, only worn once at most, and they'll just sit in my
closet till they no longer fit anyway." One of the curses of working
for a clothing store is that you never have too few clothes, because
with discounts and promotions and whatnot, you end up buying many
things on a whim, or out of wishful thinking. Most of my cast-offs
were collected by my mother and either mailed to some distant cousin,
or donated to charity, and I didn't mind that at all, but it would be
nice to actually see some of it put to use.

    Beaming, she worked through everything I had handed her like a
quick change artist, only stopping momentarily to check herself in the
mirror. Most of it was much more flattering to her than it ever had
been on me, and by the time we had worked through everything I wanted
to do without from both my closet, and my dresser, a good size pile
had accumulated, worthy of its own suitcase.

    In the end, we had filled the big suitcase with my clothes, the
middle one with shoes and Ellison's clothes, and the little one was
filled with miscellanea such as toiletries, make up, brushes CD's,
books, a couple of empty purses, bands and barrettes for my hair, and
a dozen other marginally necessary things.

    Another nice thing about the Thunderbird is that the spacious
trunk, and stiff rear suspension meant that it was perfect for moving
bodies, probably five or six at a time, and if they were big fat guys
named Guido, you could drop the back seat forward and still meet
quota. Not at all like those stupid Cadillacs they use in the movies,
where you have to wrestle two skinny guys into place and then you ride
around looking like a low rider with malfunctioning hydraulic
controls.

    Just so you don't think I am showing my age, in the smaller of the
two cities my town is nestled between, there is still (as of the
summer of 2009) a drive in theater in operation, and it still shows a
double feature on each of its six screens every night of the year,
rain or shine. Since it was about 40 miles away, we didn't go often,
but not once had the staff said a word about why two girls would need
enough lawn furniture and blankets in the back seat for a half dozen
or more people. We didn't even do the clown car routine because of
money, but rather because the first time a big group of us had gone, I
had jokingly suggested it, and Allison had then done what Allison does
best.

    So you should now understand what I mean when I tell you that
after loading the suitcases in the trunk, we still had room for a
small horse, not that the horse would be comfortable, or that I had a
horse. The other thing we had no more of was time, as I spotted my
father's commuter car, a spartan Honda Civic hatchback come rolling
around the corner onto the street. Oh, how I wished he had just let me
have that car instead of this monster.

    ***

    When the dinner had been demolished, including not one, but two
burgers which I had whipped up for the girls after they had seen the
sushi being moved from their Styrofoam boxes onto the trays they would
be served on, We three excused ourselves to go back to the Brooks'
house.

    My father popped up from where he sat at the table and asked
"before you go, may I see you in the other room Nanami?" I nodded and
followed him back into the room that served as a quiet place for me to
study, or for him to work on stuff he brought home. He opened his
briefcase and pulled a small but fat envelope and a small set of keys
on a baby pink fob from his briefcase.

    He held the keys up so that the label on the fob was hidden but
the keys were obviously too small to belong to the Honda, or the
Toyota Camry my mother drove around town. I put my hand over my mouth
and said "no way" in a hushed voice.

    "This is for you to drive, you've done very well with the Ford, so
I think I can give this to you early." he set the keys in my hand and
when I saw the label emblazoned in white across the fob I must have
shocked everyone with my squeal of delight.

    When I threw my hand over my mouth in embarrassment, I heard Mrs.
Brooks and my mom laughing, and Mr. Brooks telling his daughters to
leave us be. I had to ask him, I just couldn't believe it was true,
"is it really a Vespa?"

    He smiled a little wistfully and handed me the envelope saying
"Here is the title to the Ford, and the paperwork on the bike and the
trailer for it. The dealer will fix the T-bird so it can pull the bike
and show you how to secure it. If you need anything done, you take the
bike back to them and they will fix it for free, tires, oil change,
engine work, anything."

    "Good warranty" I murmured as I opened the envelope, and thumbed
through the contents.

    "And a house account" my father added "I won't have you being
unsafe, so you have to promise to get your motorcycle license before
you drive it." I nodded and pulled out a checkbook cover that had been
hidden under some of the papers. Inside was a thin starter checkbook
with about 10 checks inside, and two big brass keys, both stamped with
'Do Not Duplicate'. He coughed, "The round one is for our post office
box, The square one is for the box at the bank, I removed your mother
and my papers today when I set up the new account for you."

    "But I already have an account of my own, and money too from my
job." I protested.

    "This is not your money," he said stiffly, "this is my money, and
you will use it as I see fit, to take care of my daughter."

    I smiled, tucked everything away, and threw my arms around his
neck, he kissed my forehead and I sighed "I wish you didn't have to
go".

    "And I wish you didn't want to stay." He sighed. I popped up on my
tip-toes and kissed his cheek.

    "Oh, Where is the bike? I want to see it!" I chirped.

    "Ah well, I couldn't bring it home, and so it has been waiting at
the dealer, you can get it tomorrow if you want," he turned and pulled
some photos from his briefcase. It was a gorgeous traditionally styled
Vespa that could have come straight out of some old Italian film, if
not for the perfectly delicious diagonal baby pink and white stripes
that met in a series of points down the center of the bike. On the
pale pink (presumably leather) seat sat a pair of matching helmets in
the same pretty pink.

    I said "I love it! It's so pink!" and hugged him again.

    He chuckled and said "Nobody will be crazy enough to steal it,"
but I was already running out of the room.

    I hunched down behind my mother, and waved the photos in front of
her, and chirped "Look! Look what Daddy got me!"

    She laughed, then turned and kissed my cheek, and said "I know, I
was the one who told them to make it a pink one."

    I hopped up and danced over to show Allison, and of course Ellison
crowded in to see too.

    "Wait, Is he crazy? Has he ridden with you in your car?" Allison
asked a little too loudly, which got a few laughs from the table as
Ellison punched her in the ribs.

    I started pushing her out of the room as she started to protest
"no I'm serious, this is a horrible mistake" etcetera.

    Once I had her outside, I told her "Shutthefuckup or you're riding
in the trunk." and then pranced inside to grab my purse, and wave to
my dad, and smiling angelically, I said, "I love you Daddy, thank you
so much, I'll see you later!" and then I trotted out of the house.

    By the time I had the doors unlocked and was hopping behind the
wheel, my hands had begun to tremor slightly, and the key took some
convincing to find the ignition. When the engine had come to life and
I threw it into reverse, I felt like someone was sitting on my chest.
When I threw it into drive and started down the street, my eyes had
started to well up. When I turned the corner, the first hot tears
rolled down my cheeks and I bit my lip to hold back the huge wracking
sob just hiding there behind the catch in my throat. As I dropped the
car into neutral and coasted it to a stop, the first embarrassing
trickle of snot slid down the roof of my nostril. Allison put the gear
lever up all the way to park as my face fell into my hands.

    I felt her get out, and flip the seat forward so that Ellison
could climb up into the passenger seat. She opened my door, unbuckled
me, slid the seat back, allowing me to tilt even further forward as I
tried to suffocate the sobs before they could escape. She picked me up
and slid me over into the center seat where Ellison lifted enough hair
out of the way to buckle the waist strap around me, and then she
wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and put her hand on my arm as I
doubled myself into my lap.

    Allison just drove, and when she didn't have to play with the gear
shift, she had her hand on my back, patting or rubbing, and as I lost
my way into a selfish oblivion of grief, Ellison was there too, never
letting go of my arm even as she alternated between stroking my head
and squeezing my shoulder. Nobody said a word, nobody made a sound,
except me.

    I don't know how long we drove around, or how long exactly we
took, but when I was all cried out, and had managed to clear my eyes,
and nose, and throat, we were rolling to a stop on the street in front
of the Brooks' House. I sat up, pushed my hair back, and managed a
genuine smile for them both, even if my eyes and nose were reddened,
and my face was puffy.

    I grabbed each of their hands, and said "thank you, I'm okay now."
at which they promptly made me into the gooey center of a Brooks
sisters sandwich hug. Mock choking I fended them off "Okay, okay!
Enough!" and we all laughed.

    As we pulled the bags from the trunk, Ellison simply said,
"there's ice cream in the fridge, you know."

    And I laughed out loud, "What? Did I just get dumped?"

    "Fine then, I get dibs on anything with peanut butter in it."
Allison went straight for the kill zone.

    "The hell you do!" I shouted after her as she scampered off with
the little suitcase, leaving Ellison and I to wrestle the bigger ones
into the house.

    ***

    "Do you -have- to sleep down there?" Allison's query came as she
made one of the poutiest faces I had yet seen from her repertoire. She
was perched to look over the cliff face of the day bed's mattress at
me down in trundle land. "what if I have to go pee? I'll probably fall
all over you."

    This was the standard argument whenever I had slept over, but
those were one night affairs, and we had usually slept little on those
occasions anyway. It was my hair really that was the problem, for some
reason it fascinated her to no end. Granted it was as dissimilar to
her wavy auburn locks as could be, but it was still just hair. As
children we had of course played with each others hair, but with hers
we could shuffle comb or pin, and come up with a dozen different
looks, all of which she would eschew for a simple ponytail. My hair on
the other hand only really had three options: cut, uncut, and tied up.
I think we were five the first time she cut my hair, and if my mother
hadn't fixed it before my father had seen, it probably would have been
the last time.

    Fine is not a word I would use to describe my hair, shiny, smooth,
and thick all applied, but no word described it more accurately than
straight. You cannot even say 'bone' straight as bones have curves to
them. Once she had gone through tying complicated little knots in my
hair only to see them banished by a night's sleep and a quick combing
out. It also grew very quickly so there was really never harm done
when Allison had gotten it into her head to try some new experiment on
me. For the past few years though she had seemed content to let it
alone. It had almost felt like a betrayal when I had to face her
pouting after the last time I had cheated on her with a local
hairdresser, so I had contented myself to letting it grow out.

    At the moment it was about a month away from being so long that I
would have to worry about sitting on it, which is about where I was
planning on drawing the line in letting Allison have her way with MY
hair. It's not even as if this was an even sided arrangement, her hair
hadn't hung beyond her chin since we had become freshmen. Her current
cut looked to me more like an electrified q-tip than the A-line she
claimed it was supposed to be, not that I would ever say so.

    I leveled my finger up at her, "You, will leave my hair alone." it
was not a request.

    She moaned and flopped over on the bed above to whine "not even a
little? Please?"

    Laughingly, I admonished her gently, "what are you, five still?"
And knowing the struggle was already mostly lost, I decided to offer a
compromise: "five minutes starting now."

    "Fifteen!"

    "Two!"

    "No fair! Okay ten, starting when you're under the covers."

    I mock sighed knowing I had a much better chance of gainful sleep
with her than on the rock hard trundle anyway. I held my hand palm up
at the edge of the upper mattress, and simply said "Scrunchie?"

    "No scrunchie!" she wailed, but I could hear her grinning behind it.

    "You know you can't be trusted after your time is up." I reminded her.

    "Fine, I'll grab one, you put that thing away."

    And so I stood up to push the trundle back under the bed, while
Allison picked out what seemed to me to be the most likely scrunchie
to work its way free in the night.

    She scooted toward the back trellis of the bed, and held the
covers back as I climbed up in with her, setting my pillows next to
hers. I had slept in the same bed with her enough to know that she had
no trouble sharing a blanket, being more of a snuggler than a
thrasher, but she tended to discard pillows in her sleep, so I would
need my own supply. No sooner had I set my head down and turned away
from her onto my side, when both of her hands were buried in my hair,
stroking, combing, braiding. At one point it seemed like she was
trying to wrap it around her own head. It was at about this time when
I decided it had been long enough, and pulled my hair forward over my
shoulder and trapped it in the scrunchie.

    She sighed and dutifully turned over so that our backs touched, my
butt seemed to fit perfectly in the small of her back, but if she
found the warm closeness as comforting as I did, she only said "I'm
glad you're here with me Mimi" using the nickname only she had ever
called me by.

    "I am too, Leilu" I responded with like familiarity. At which she
half turned over and kissed the back of my head near my ear before
settling back down. It wasn't long before I had fallen asleep. As
expected at some point in the night her pillows had been flipped onto
my head and subsequently the floor. At one point I had awoken to find
her curled around me, both of us curled into a fetal position
interlocked like puzzle pieces. What had awoken me tho was the tickle
of my hair in her hand as it worked its way up under the hem of my
pajama shirt to brush against my tummy. Unsurprised, I merely tugged
my hair free and went back to sleep; lulled by her reassuring warmth,
and rhythmic breathing against my neck.

    When I awoke in the morning to the noises of the house coming to
life, and the smell of coffee, I realized that Allison's fingers had
again found their way into my hair, but it was not the hair on my
head. Her left hand had found its way past the protective barriers of
the waistbands on the loose shorts and panties I was wearing, her
fingers had tunneled into the depths of my foliage, and her fingertips
were dangerously close to where no-man's-land began. Sensing an
opportunity to catch my unflappable friend off guard, being careful to
not shift my hips any lest I lose my advantage, I shifted up onto one
elbow and loosened my barely scrunchied hair to fall over Allison's
face. Then I leaned down close to her ear, and gently whispered in
what I figured was a very intimate way "Allie darling, wake up. It's
time to wake up Allie dear."

    I suppose I wasn't surprised when her reaction to my cooing was to
turn her face up into the cloud of my hair and kiss me, but when I
felt her tongue hit my lips in search of passage beyond, her eyes shot
open like she had been hit, and her hand whipped out of it's hiding
place like a child pulls burnt fingers from a stove-top. Laughing
uproariously I fell back onto my pillows, and she unceremoniously
pushed me off the bed with her feet. Poking my head back over the edge
of the bed and grinning like I had made short work of the canary, I
taunted her: "Is there something you want to tell me Leilu?"

    "No!" she shouted as I ducked to avoid my own pillows as they flew
at my head.

    Possibly for the first time since I had become friends with her,
she turned a deep scarlet, and bolted from the room and across the
hallway into the bathroom she shared with her sister, slamming the
door behind her. A moment later, lathery toothbrush in hand, Ellison
was launched from the bathroom to immediately turn and scrabble at the
locked door. As we heard the shower cut on, Ellison turned to me wide
eyed and managed to convey that she needed someplace to spit.

    Even though she was an inch taller than me, I said "Come on kiddo"
and steered her by the shoulders toward the stairs leading down into
the kitchen. She immediately turned to the sink and spat, eliciting a
grunt of distaste from Mrs. Brooks.

    Ellison whirled on me saying "What the hell was that?"

    As I shrugged, Mrs. Brooks scolded her "language please, and find
someplace else to do that, I'm cooking in here."

    When Ellison had wandered off to finish up in the downstairs
bathroom, Mrs. Brooks nonchalantly said "You two sure are noisy this
morning."

    "I'm sorry, I hope I am not a bother already." I apologized,
finding myself instinctively bowing at the waist, Grandmother would
have been proud I'm sure.

    "Oh no, not at all dear," she assured me, "I just wish I knew how
you did it, I usually have to bang pans together to get that girl up."

    Barely able to contain my laughter, I told her "I think maybe I
burned her hand." Which earned me a puzzled look as I turned to trot
back up the stairs.

    Pausing at the door to the bathroom I did my best cop-knock on the
door, which earned me a surprised yelp from inside. Sweetly, I called
through the door "want me to wash your back?" which really was no big
deal, we had showered together more often than I could recall, but
after a moment of wondering if I had pushed her too far, I figured I
would grab a bobby pin and force my way in past the simple vanity
lock, but when I returned, it was unlocked. I slipped in and locked
the door behind me.

    I quickly stripped down and grabbed a scrubby and my little
shampoo caddy, stepping into the back of the tub and hanging the caddy
from the cord they had kindly dangled from the curtain rod so that I
wouldn't have to climb in order to get at my stuff. Allison just stood
under the water letting it flow over her head and shoulders, which
were slumped in a picture of woe. I put a liberal amount of body wash
onto the scrubby and tapped on her back so that she would back up a
little. The back of her neck was as scarlet as her face had been, and
the mottled blotches of red on her back and legs told me as well as
the water around my feet that it was not the temperature that was the
problem.

    As I started to scrub her back, she stammered "I'm sorry."

    "I know" was all I could say, now worried that I had hurt our
friendship as well as her sensibilities.

    "I'm sorry" she repeated.

    "I know."

    "I didn't mean to."

    "I know."

    "Mimi, I think... I think I love you."

    "I know, I love you too Leilu"

    She got very still and very quiet, and I almost didn't hear her
over the shower when she said "No, I think I'm -in- love with you
Mimi."

    I dropped the scrubby and wrapped my arms tight around her just
under her breasts, pressing myself tight against my dear friend's
backside and simply said "I know, I know." as I pressed my cheek
between her soapy shoulder blades I felt her ribs heave with sudden
sobs. I didn't know if she was wracked with remorse or relief, but as
she worked through her tears, I felt tears of my own form in sympathy.
Somewhere deep inside I had known really, It was not something
shocking or horrifying, I loved my friend dearly, and she loved me
like she had no other. As I wondered how long she had been struggling
with this in silence, how long it had been tearing her up inside, her
knees slowly gave way, and rather than try to hold us both up, I
followed her in her slow descent to the floor not letting go of her as
the tepid water washed over us from above.

    After crouching for a while together on the floor of the tub,
Allison let out a great shuddering sigh, and gave my hand a squeeze
where it was pressing into her ribcage as I still held her tightly.
"Come on, my turn now" she said as she started standing up.

    With her initial crisis seemingly passed, I was now very conscious
of the fact that I stood naked, wrapped around, and pressing up
against the girl who, also naked, had just professed her love for me.
I knew in a moment that if I acted any different than I would have
before her confession, she would see it as a stark rejection of not
just her affections, but possibly her friendship. It also struck me
that moments ago, I had never even considered the idea of being
'pillow friends' with someone, let alone the possibility that my first
true love just might be another woman. There was no denying however
that I loved her, and I had no doubt that she had serious, romantic
feelings for me. It amazed me how much strength it must have taken for
her to make that simple statement.

    Steeling my resolve as much as I could in the hopes that I could
meet the high standard of honesty and openness that she had set, I
took a deep breath, and gently let go of her. I gave her the freedom
to turn about and look at me, to reciprocate the touch of my embrace,
or to reproduce the intimacy of her nocturnal caressing. I didn't know
what exactly to expect, but I was going to meet it with my heart and
eyes wide open.

    Turning sideways toward the curtain, she gestured for me to step
past her into the spray of the shower-head far above. I immediately
manipulated the faucets, bringing the water almost to a scalding hot
level, as I knew was both our preference. She grabbed my shampoo from
it's caddy, and squoze a cold dollop onto the top of my head,and
started to work it into a lather against my scalp. At my prompting she
handed me the body wash, and I picked up the scrubby with my toes, and
started working on cleaning everything I could reach easily. After she
had worked the lather all the way down to the ends of my hair, I
leaned forward into the spray feeling my hair slip down around my face
to hang in front of me in the flow of water. I held the scrubby and
body wash up at my shoulder for her to take, and she gently started to
scrub the soap into my back.

    I gave her a reassuring groan, for it really did feel like heaven
to have her scrubbing away at the spots I often found just too hard to
reach. When she was satisfied, I let the water rinse the soap off and
then turned to face her. Parting my hair, and slipping it back over my
shoulders, I looked up at her, and saw that she was fighting back
tears again. Without hesitating a moment, I stepped forward and
wrapped my arms around her again, pulling myself tightly against her.
It didn't matter to me anymore that we were naked, for it only meant
that she was as vulnerable as I.

    When she pushed gently at my shoulders, I let her separate the
embrace, and frowned silently at the gentle reproach I saw in her
eyes. "You are not a lesbian" she had put it as succinctly as she
could, but she was not wrong.

    I had only dated a few people, and none of them had been female to
our knowledge. But as I have told you before, I was never really
seriously involved either. So I felt confident when I turned it around
on her "neither are you."

    She frowned, and shook her head "no, I've never really been
interested in guys at all."

    Thinking back, it dawned on me that she was right, she had never
confided a crush to me, she had never joined in with the other girls
discussing who was hot and who was not. In point of fact, all of the
attention she got from guys seemed to be one directional, but I had
just subconsciously written it up to them not being good enough for my
friend. "Do I have to be a lesbian?" I asked.

    This seemed to perplex her, so I went on: "can't I love you
without necessarily deciding that I am a lesbian? Do I have to have a
track record of dating other girls before I'm allowed to return your
feelings?"

    She shook her head again, "no, but, you don't feel that way about me."

    I was dumbstruck. I had an urge to slap her, and to kiss her, to
punch her in the arm, and to hug her tightly all at once. How could
she just assume that I did or didn't feel one way or another? True,
she was my best friend, and knew me better than anyone else in the
world, but that was just too much. So I just stepped out of the
shower. I threw open the door to the bathroom, and walked sopping wet
and naked as could be across the hallway and into Allison's bedroom. I
yanked my suitcase from the back of her closet, yanked a wad of my
clothes off of the rack, and threw them at the bag. Allison, also
sopping and naked, and Ellison, drawn by the commotion, stood gawping
in the doorway. I gave a short frustrated half growled yell, and then
kicked the suitcase up into the closet again, stomped over to grab
Allison's wrist and yanked her into the room.

    I turned back to Ellison, and bowed formally "please excuse the
disruption" then closed the door to her.

    I heard her thudding down the stairs wailing "Mom!" but so far as
I know nobody came up to check on us.

    Thank you Mrs. Brooks.

    When I turned on her, Allison seemed ready to crawl inside of
herself and hide. I strode up to her as if I were a samurai in full
battle regalia. I imagined that I could feel the anger drying the
water in my hair, and on my skin. The room had become a battleground,
and it seemed as if she were determined to loose. My frustration
welled within me, and even though I am almost a foot and a half
shorter than Allison, I put my hands on her shoulders and gave her a
great shove. The horror and hurt in her eyes tore holes in my armor of
righteousness as she fell back to slump against her bed, sliding to
the floor, looking for all the world as defeated and deflated as could
be.

    I stood akimbo before her, and glowered down at her as I rode the
peak of my anger with my fists and teeth clenched tight. For the first
time in my memory, I was so angry that I could not put together a
coherent string of words, and as I quivered before her, I saw her eyes
go from welled with wounded tears, to glossily dull. She had given up
completely, and withdrawn to some state I had never before seen her
in, and as quickly as it came I felt the anger drain away, leaving me
hollowed out, and confused about all but one thing.

    I strode over to her and carefully tilted her head back by her
chin, and pressed my mouth against hers. When she opened her mouth to
protest, I pushed my tongue between her teeth and closed my eyes as I
attempted to radiate the warmth of love at her just as my anger had
cowed her moments before. As I gently probed at her tongue and teeth,
one hand found its way into her hair, the other to the gentle slope
between her neck and shoulder.

    It didn't take long before the undercurrents of lust she had been
feeling toward me overtook her spiral of self pity and brought her
rising against me. I could feel it in her mouth as she reciprocated
the kiss, in the way her tongue sought out mine, and found its way
beyond my lips. I could feel it in the way her muscles bunched so
close beneath the surface where my hand rested on her shoulder. Her
hand rose up to caress my face and then to twine in a greedy fistful
of my hair. With her other hand, she found the delicately ticklish
spot where my hip meets my torso, and using it like a handle, she
pulled me to her. I found myself settling astride her lap, face turned
slightly upward toward hers, and then our roles were completely
reversed, and she had become the warrior, and I was her conquest.

    This was not the Allison I had gone to bed with the prior night,
with her truest self chained up and locked away. This was not the
Allison who had been mortified to find that she had done in her sleep
what she never would dare when awake. This was not the Allison who had
slumped dejectedly in the shower, nor the Allison who had been so sure
that I was not capable of loving her the way she loved me. This was an
altogether different person, who I had brought from the depths to
shine in the light. She burned with such passion that she was radiant,
and above all she was hungry.

    There was little tenderness in those first moments, as she pulled
my head back and leaned forward to bite and then suck at the tender
flesh just under my jaw, along the side of my neck, down to my
collarbones, and then as I arched against the hand she held behind my
back, surrendering to her support and passion, she took my right
nipple into her mouth and drew her tongue roughly across the lax
surface of my aureole. She cupped the bud at its apex in her curled
tongue and drew it to attention with gentle suction before pulling
away. Her hunger then drove her to find a number of places just beyond
the now crinkly brown circle that was my teat, where she roughly
closed her teeth against the small rise my breast made against my now
heaving chest.

    Each breath she sent across the moistened skin there sent tingling
shivers into me, quickening my breath into a rapid succession of
shallow pants. The premiering of these new sensations within me served
to encourage my nipple to contract further into itself to form a tight
little knot of nerves as my head began to swoon foggily.

    Under her ministrations, it was difficult to resist interfering to
assuage the gentle ache within my tautening nipple, but I held out
until she decided to switch sides. Only then did I reach up to
tenderly pull at the tip to loosen the tightness gathered around it
like a medieval army besieging a castle. I could feel Allison's lips
curl up tightly into what was most likely a satisfied grin as she
called the dispersing troops from my right side to rally on the left.

    She radiated desire so strong it was a tangible presence in the
room, washing like waves of electricity across my skin wherever she
touched me. The room grew dim around us as the sun turned away from
the sky, embarrassed at having intruded on that desire, but the light
within her was growing exponentially as if the two of us together had
found our critical mass. I found I could smell it in the air, the
slightly musky pungency of my own need, mixed with a similar but
distinctly different scent that could only have been hers. I was wet,
inside out, and I knew that my Leilu was too.

    Behind her head, my fingers locked together and I pulled my face
back to hers, pleading with my eyes for what I knew not, but eagerly
ran toward. Breathing heavily, eyes half closed, I held my face so
close to hers that I could feel her eyelashes as they brushed against
my cheek but it was her lips that made the journey between us, and
when she found my mouth already half open, she pulled my lower lip
between hers and I felt her teeth as they clamped around my lip just a
half shade from causing pain.

    I felt her hand loosen from my hair as I pressed myself froward
into her embrace, the hand she had been bracing my back with began a
wandering trail from my back down along my hip, and then around to cup
my right butt cheek. It was with this hand that she lifted me up to
kneel over her lap rather than recline within it. With half lidded
eyes, I watched hers dart away and down from my own. It was then that
I felt the fingers of her other hand as they slid down and across my
wetness. She didn't pull or probe, or tease me in any way, she just
held me there, captive, like a mouse held delicately in a child's
fist.

    It was at that moment that my embarrassment found its way to the
surface of this flood of passion. My hands flew up to cover my face,
and I mewled a bit as I buried my face in her neck. Her hands,
noticeably reluctant to leave their treasures, wrapped around my back,
and she held me tightly. She nuzzled gently against my neck, and I
yawlped and wiggled as if it was the most ticklish thing ever. Then
she gently whispered into my ear "Want to stop for now?"

    Giggling a bit as I pushed back from her, I shook my head at her
"no, don't stop," even though I knew that my own momentum was quickly
dwindling. "I'm just nervous, that's all Leilu."

    "I've never done this before, Mimi." She confided.

    "Neither have I!" I laughed, as I let myself fall back to lie on
the floor, almost immediately regretting the way it left me more
exposed than ever, but Allison gave a satisfied grunt and flopped
herself down onto her tummy beside me.

    "You were going to let me... fuck you... weren't you?" she asked quietly.

    "Not if I had to fuck you first." I jibed, as I jabbed at her ribs.

    "So, what now?" she asked, sounding hesitant and mildly
dissatisfied that the spell of the moment had been broken.

    "Now, we get dressed, and we go downstairs, and we eat breakfast,
and act like your sister is crazy." I stated, bringing our immediate
surroundings back into focus for her.

    "What about us though?" She wasn't going to let it go until I had
placated her need for vindication. "What does this mean for us?"

    "Can we figure that out as we go along?" I pleaded. "You were there right?"

    "Yeah."

    "Do I seem like the type of person who would fake it?"

    "No."

    "Do you need to feel how wet I am to believe it?"

    She paused for a moment, and then grinning like the Cheshire cat
said "Yes, I think I do!" which earned her a laugh and a good solid
pillow to the face.

    "I'm glad you're done being stupid then, now get dressed!" I
pushed at her with my feet until she started getting up.

    "I'm glad you don't hate me." she said.

    "It's more than that you know." I replied as she stood over me
offering a hand to pull myself up with.

    When she uttered the simple "I know." Her face lit up with a smile
so bright, so warm, so effused with happiness, that I found myself
having to fight back tears of joy.

    *** ***

(1)A Kotatsu is a type of low table from Japan found in the common
rooms of most households. It features a heating element underneath the
surface and a quilted blanket which skirts around the table, so that
one can sit with their legs under the table warmed by the heat trapped
by the blanket. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kotatsu for a more
extensive explanation.

(2)Seiza is style of sitting used in Japan especially on formal
occasions, such as tea ceremonies, it is somewhat uncomfortable if you
are not practiced at it. It involves tucking your legs underneath you
and sitting on your heels with your feet flattened on the floor. See
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seiza for a more extensive explanation.

(3)Soba Shochu is a low calorie distilled spirit made partly from
buckwheat. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shochu for a more
extensive explanation.

(4)Chichi, is a childish familiar word for father it's basically like
saying "Daddy" rather than "Father". See
http://www.csse.monash.edu.au/~jwb/cgi-bin/wwwjdic.cgi?1MDJ%C9%E3 for
a less extensive explanation.

(5)Moshi moshi is used as a greeting when answering the phone, there
are many interpretations of its origin, but the one I like best is
that it is an abbreviation of Moshimasu Moshimasu, which means "I am
going to speak, I am going to speak." Currently it is used as if to
say "Hello, is someone there?" and can pop up in daily conversation,
as a way of making sure that the person you are talking to is paying
attention, or to express incredulity. See
http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/moshi_moshi for a less extensive
explanation.

(6)Sushi is a a traditional Japanese food mostly composed of rice and
raw fish. There are many subtle varieties in the making and serving of
sushi, which I will not go over. See
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sushi for a more extensive explanation.

(7)Miso shiru - Is a traditional simple soup which is a staple of the
Japanese diet, See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miso_shiru for a more
extensive explanation.

(8)Natto is fermented soybeans which have a sticky consistency and a
pungent small, maki means roll, therefore Natto-Maki is a rolled sushi
using Natto as the main ingredient. See
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natto for a more extensive explanation.

(9)Tamago literally means egg, but specifically refers to Tamagoyaki,
which is a sweet egg cooked similarly to an omelet, and rolled up
before slicing. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamagoyaki for a more
extensive explanation.

(10a)Waribashi are disposable chop sticks usually made of cheap pine
or bamboo, and usually sheathed individually in a paper package.
Generally speaking, these are used when eating take-out or in a
restaurant, as most people would not bring their own chop sticks with
them everywhere they go. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waribashi
for a more extensive explanation.

(10b) How to make Cheater Chopsticks: Step 1: remove the sticks from
the paper wrapping tearing the paper as little as possible. Step 2:
pull apart the chopsticks so that the heads both have about the same
amount of wood on top. Step 3. fold the paper in half length ways, and
roll the paper up tightly as you would a tube of toothpaste. Step 4:
put the paper roll between the chopsticks so that it is near the
heads. Step 5, secure it all in place with a rubber band, making
slightly more wrappings on the head side of the roll than on the tong
side. Step 6: Adjust the positioning for ease of use.

(11)Tadaima transliterates to "I'm home" but is used in a habitual
manner, often even people who live alone will announce Tadaima into
their empty home. See
http://www.csse.monash.edu.au/~jwb/cgi-bin/wwwjdic.cgi?1MDJ%A4%BF%A4%C0%BA%A3
for a less extensive explanation.

(12)Okaeri is a shortened, familiar version of 'Okaeri-nasai' which
transliterates to "Welcome home" and is the habitual response one
would make to the aforementioned Tadaima. See
http://www.csse.monash.edu.au/~jwb/cgi-bin/wwwjdic.cgi?1MDJ%A4%AA%B5%A2%A4%EA%A4
for a less extensive explanation.

    *** ***

TEASER:

    As she gently lay me back onto the soft downy comforter, her eyes
ran over my body so greedily that I could feel them as they traced
across my skin. I could see it in her expression that she was going to
memorize every moment, to take every indulgence she could, just in
case this never happened again. I managed to whisper out to her
"please Leilu, be gentle", but there was no need to add that it was my
first time.

    She reached down between my legs and skipped right past the
touches I expected her to use to explore my delicate areas, instead
grasping my hips; she pulled me by the waist until I was pinioned with
my shoulders against the mattress, and my butt rested against her
chest just above her breasts. My legs had instinctively tried to wrap
around her head, or to hook over her shoulders to keep me from sliding
away and down, but the angle at which I was canted up from the bed
made purchase impossible for them to gain. Grinning, she hooked a hand
behind each of my knees and then folded them down onto my chest.

    I was not comfortable physically or emotionally with the way she
had chosen to bring this moment so fully under her control. It was
clear, however, from the surety in her movements that she had put no
small amount of thought into this moment. Held as I was, helpless
before her, completely exposed, and utterly incapable of withdrawing
from what was going to come next, I was effectively her captive. Worse
than that I was positioned such that she would see every emotion as it
flickered across my face, just as I would see as well as feel every
detail of what she was doing. I knew that it would be unforgivable to
cover my face with my hands this time, so I forced them to find her
hands, and twined my fingers with hers where they held my legs in
check.

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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