* * *
Tamani swerved to the side of the road when he saw lights wink on at Yuki’s house. He had caught her just as she was arriving home. With luck, Klea might still be with her. Tamani killed the engine and silenced his phone, moving noiselessly on foot—but not so sneakily that a neighbor seeing him might call the cops. As he approached, he could hear her through the open window—it sounded like she was on the phone.
“I’m trying,” Yuki said, the frustration evident in her voice. Tamani sucked in a breath and stilled, straining his ears. “I’ve been trying. But she can tell; I had to stop for a while.”
Tamani held his breath, trying to catch every word. She was obviously upset and probably talking much louder than she realized.
“I know the old man can do it. That’s all I ever hear from you. But I can’t, and he’s not exactly here to teach me, is he?”
Tamani tensed. Who was “she”? Who was “the old man”?
There was a long silence and Yuki sighed. “I know. I know, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice small again. She said “yeah” several times and Tamani could tell the conversation was winding down. He took a couple of heavy steps and knocked on the door before she could catch him eavesdropping.
Yuki paused, then said, “I gotta go; Tam’s here.”
Tamani craned his neck at the window. Had she seen him? But then, who else would be knocking on her door this evening? Still, it was more than a bit uncanny. By the time she answered the door, he had a friendly smile plastered on his face.
“Hey,” Yuki said, smiling winsomely. “I didn’t know you were coming, did I?” She reflexively looked at her phone for some sign of a voice mail.
“No, I was just out driving and saw lights. I didn’t think you’d be back yet.”
“Klea got called away on business. Again. She dropped me off early and I got mad and took a walk . . . anyway,” she said, thoroughly flustered now. “You want to come in?” Yuki asked, holding the door open.
“Why don’t we sit on the porch?” Tamani asked. “The weather’s great.” She was mad at something and already sloppy. Tamani had every intention of using that to his advantage. But there was something almost sultry in her eyes tonight and Tamani didn’t want her using that to her advantage.
“If you want,” Yuki said after a hesitation that confirmed Tamani’s suspicions. They sat on the steps of her porch, facing out at the street.
“What did you do for Thanksgiving?” Yuki asked.
Lie or truth? “Nothing,” Tamani said with a grin. “It’s not exactly something we celebrate in Scotland.”
“We have a sort of Thanksgiving in Japan,” Yuki said. “But kinro kansha no hi isn’t celebrated in quite the same way. The break from school is nice, though.”
“You can say that again,” Tamani said, grinning now; glad they were on a subject he could be honest about. “Was that Klea on the phone when I walked up?”
“Yeah,” Yuki said, the bitterness back in her voice. “I’d rather not talk about it, though.”
“No worries,” Tamani said soothingly. Was she getting suspicious of him? Or was she just genuinely upset at Klea?
“Tam?”
“Yeah?”
She took a deep breath, as if fortifying herself for something truly painful. “Am I your girlfriend?” she blurted in a rush.
Tamani had to grit his teeth hard to keep the smile on his face. He tilted his head back and forth, as though considering. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I don’t really like to put labels on things. I think they get complicated when you do that. I prefer to just see what happens.”
Yuki nodded. “Okay,” she said, clearly nervous. “I just, I wasn’t sure and I thought . . . I needed to check.”
“You’re welcome to check,” Tamani said, smiling broadly and leaning back, propping his arms up behind him, resting one on the cement step behind Yuki’s back. He felt like he’d crossed an invisible line.
He steered the conversation toward neutral ground—easy enough, all he had to do was ask if she’d seen any good movies lately—and they chatted for about an hour. Tamani still marveled at how natural it was to be with Yuki most of the time. She was easygoing and even laughed at his dumb jokes. Under different circumstances they might have been friends, and it made him a little sad to know it was never to be—even if she was innocent, if she ever found out how much he’d lied and pretended, she would never speak to him again.
He tried a few times to nudge the conversation back toward Yuki and her life, but she avoided his questions and changed the subject entirely if he so much as mentioned Klea. It was frustrating, but Tamani finally decided that he would chalk up tonight to an evening of building trust. Hopefully that would pay off eventually.
“I better go,” Tamani said, eyeing the moon as it peered out from behind the clouds. “My uncle doesn’t know where I am.”
“Okay,” Yuki said, rising slowly to her feet.
Tamani stood beside her for a second, wondering if he was going to have to hug her.
She took a deep breath, then stepped toward him and he steeled himself to return an embrace. But she wasn’t aiming for his chest. He forced himself not to flinch as she planted a kiss against his lips. It was a nervous kiss, quick and tentative and not at all intimate. He quelled the urge to swipe his arm across his mouth.
Tamani swerved to the side of the road when he saw lights wink on at Yuki’s house. He had caught her just as she was arriving home. With luck, Klea might still be with her. Tamani killed the engine and silenced his phone, moving noiselessly on foot—but not so sneakily that a neighbor seeing him might call the cops. As he approached, he could hear her through the open window—it sounded like she was on the phone.
“I’m trying,” Yuki said, the frustration evident in her voice. Tamani sucked in a breath and stilled, straining his ears. “I’ve been trying. But she can tell; I had to stop for a while.”
Tamani held his breath, trying to catch every word. She was obviously upset and probably talking much louder than she realized.
“I know the old man can do it. That’s all I ever hear from you. But I can’t, and he’s not exactly here to teach me, is he?”
Tamani tensed. Who was “she”? Who was “the old man”?
There was a long silence and Yuki sighed. “I know. I know, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice small again. She said “yeah” several times and Tamani could tell the conversation was winding down. He took a couple of heavy steps and knocked on the door before she could catch him eavesdropping.
Yuki paused, then said, “I gotta go; Tam’s here.”
Tamani craned his neck at the window. Had she seen him? But then, who else would be knocking on her door this evening? Still, it was more than a bit uncanny. By the time she answered the door, he had a friendly smile plastered on his face.
“Hey,” Yuki said, smiling winsomely. “I didn’t know you were coming, did I?” She reflexively looked at her phone for some sign of a voice mail.
“No, I was just out driving and saw lights. I didn’t think you’d be back yet.”
“Klea got called away on business. Again. She dropped me off early and I got mad and took a walk . . . anyway,” she said, thoroughly flustered now. “You want to come in?” Yuki asked, holding the door open.
“Why don’t we sit on the porch?” Tamani asked. “The weather’s great.” She was mad at something and already sloppy. Tamani had every intention of using that to his advantage. But there was something almost sultry in her eyes tonight and Tamani didn’t want her using that to her advantage.
“If you want,” Yuki said after a hesitation that confirmed Tamani’s suspicions. They sat on the steps of her porch, facing out at the street.
“What did you do for Thanksgiving?” Yuki asked.
Lie or truth? “Nothing,” Tamani said with a grin. “It’s not exactly something we celebrate in Scotland.”
“We have a sort of Thanksgiving in Japan,” Yuki said. “But kinro kansha no hi isn’t celebrated in quite the same way. The break from school is nice, though.”
“You can say that again,” Tamani said, grinning now; glad they were on a subject he could be honest about. “Was that Klea on the phone when I walked up?”
“Yeah,” Yuki said, the bitterness back in her voice. “I’d rather not talk about it, though.”
“No worries,” Tamani said soothingly. Was she getting suspicious of him? Or was she just genuinely upset at Klea?
“Tam?”
“Yeah?”
She took a deep breath, as if fortifying herself for something truly painful. “Am I your girlfriend?” she blurted in a rush.
Tamani had to grit his teeth hard to keep the smile on his face. He tilted his head back and forth, as though considering. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I don’t really like to put labels on things. I think they get complicated when you do that. I prefer to just see what happens.”
Yuki nodded. “Okay,” she said, clearly nervous. “I just, I wasn’t sure and I thought . . . I needed to check.”
“You’re welcome to check,” Tamani said, smiling broadly and leaning back, propping his arms up behind him, resting one on the cement step behind Yuki’s back. He felt like he’d crossed an invisible line.
He steered the conversation toward neutral ground—easy enough, all he had to do was ask if she’d seen any good movies lately—and they chatted for about an hour. Tamani still marveled at how natural it was to be with Yuki most of the time. She was easygoing and even laughed at his dumb jokes. Under different circumstances they might have been friends, and it made him a little sad to know it was never to be—even if she was innocent, if she ever found out how much he’d lied and pretended, she would never speak to him again.
He tried a few times to nudge the conversation back toward Yuki and her life, but she avoided his questions and changed the subject entirely if he so much as mentioned Klea. It was frustrating, but Tamani finally decided that he would chalk up tonight to an evening of building trust. Hopefully that would pay off eventually.
“I better go,” Tamani said, eyeing the moon as it peered out from behind the clouds. “My uncle doesn’t know where I am.”
“Okay,” Yuki said, rising slowly to her feet.
Tamani stood beside her for a second, wondering if he was going to have to hug her.
She took a deep breath, then stepped toward him and he steeled himself to return an embrace. But she wasn’t aiming for his chest. He forced himself not to flinch as she planted a kiss against his lips. It was a nervous kiss, quick and tentative and not at all intimate. He quelled the urge to swipe his arm across his mouth.
