“Sa shi su se so.” is a part of the Japanese alphabet, which is divided into 46 basic sounds. (plus double-letter sounds which technically bring it to easily twice that). The order is used frequently in memorizational mnemonics, much as the ABC song might be used in English.
I can glimpse the child I knew so well in the face I now see.
The restaurant was fairly lavish, considering it boasted itself as a “bar and grill.” White linen flanked Asawakina’s walls, hanging down in small half-circles, which seemed to melt into drapes around the windows. Immediately to their left, a large gap in the wall gave them a glimpse of where Sei really wanted to be—the bar. The halfway-enticing, halfway-repulsive aroma of fresh booze and stale tobacco brushed over them as they passed this opening, on their way to the section of the restaurant reserved for nonsmokers.
Apparently, Kunikuda had made reservations—Sei hadn’t realized that this would be a disappointment until she felt it gnaw at her stomach. He confirmed them with a man with a stiff suit and a stiffer mustache, who merely nodded and guided them to a table. Sei thought she probably could have found it by herself, but she didn’t turn her nose at it, if only because it would have been ungodly rude. They walked in single file—the maitre’d in front, followed at a short distance by Kunikuda, followed in turn by Sei, who could practically see over his head. It was a bit like the ants, marching one by one, down into whatever a fancy American Bar and Grille had in lieu of the ground. Kunikuda didn’t try to say anything to her, and for that, Sei was glad; something inside of her was a little bit frightened at the place. Nothing she could have put her finger on—maybe something in the casual glances of the middle-aged women and the not-so-casual glances from their middle-aged husbands, that glance that said, what the hell are you doing with that hobbit? Why don’t you come here and sit down, and I’ll tell this old ball and chain that I work with you. It’ll be fun for everyone. Honest. But not fun and honest, no way, not us, right? Right? Right?
(RIGHT? ISN’T THAT RIGHT? WE’LL HAVE LOTS OF FUN WON’T WE SEI JUST COME AND SIT DOWN HERE)
It almost hurt. Sei put her index finger and thumb on the bridge of her nose, massaging, trying to force the pain back down—something which in and of itself was like trying to burn out the blaze consuming your house. She wasn’t aware that she’d slowed her pace until Kunikuda did a quick turn, found her falling behind, and said, “Sei? Are you all right?” with a genuinely concerned look on his face.
Sei smiled at him—faked, and obviously so, a fact which was not lost on him—and nodded. “Of course,” she said, and then hurried towards the table that the maitre’d had come to stand next to, waiting for them with all the patience of an apathetic babysitter. Any time you’re ready, I’m here. Just don’t make too much noise—my stories are on.
They both sat, and the stiff-mustached man took their orders. Wine for Kunikuda. Beer for Sei. Another man might have seen this as a test, or even better, a sign that Sei was trying to relate. Kunikuda, called an old soul by his mother and a perceptive dumbass by most of his friends, knew better. He thought briefly about giving up then and there and going home—if he had ever dated a girl who wanted him around less than this Satou Sei, he would probably have been jailed for it. The two old excuses immediately flew into his mind, the easy, oblivious salve to assuage his mildly bruised ego, the two excuses known to all men who have been, either inadvertently or otherwise, shot down, burned, or otherwise decimated in an attempt at romance: Maybe she’s on her period. Or maybe she’s a lesbian.
Or maybe you could stop being a fucking moron. She goes to a Catholic school—Lillian, that really conservative one where they don’t let you bring boys on campus. She’d be burned alive, if not by the teachers than by the other girls. They’d have driven her out as soon as they scented her if that was the case. He didn’t find out until later how close to the truth he had come, thinking that.
Thinking himself suddenly brave, Kunikuda said, “So.” So. An ancient conversation starter from an ancient conversationalist. What do you think of the restaurant? What kind of beer do you like? I found the best wine on the menu at a glance because I did my homework, but I’m straight, honest. In case you were nervous about that, and not about me, like…
Like you are.
Shit.
Sei was looking at him semi-anxiously; was she waiting for him to speak or waiting for an opportunity to bolt? It was hard to tell.
So.
Sa shi su se so.
What a fascinating person you are, buddy. Wanna have a cup of tea sometime?
“So,” he repeated. Wanna hear about the people in my head mocking me for not knowing what to say? Are you a lesbian, or am I less suave than I thought? Shut up. “What…”
She stared at his neck a little meekly, and he sighed. If there was somebody on God’s good earth as unapproachable as this girl was, she probably had a continent to herself. It wasn’t that she was gruff—she just looked…
Scared.
Scared. That’s what she looked. Why the hell would a girl like her look scared? She’d probably been on hundreds of dates. She had to have experience with guys—even fascist parents couldn’t keep a girl like her from dating in school when they weren’t paying attention. (If Sei had heard him say that, she might have said that she had a very wealthy friend she’d like him to meet). So what was this, then? This was practically rape.
Kunikuda shook his head. Fuck it. Date is blown already. We may as well be frank about it. “Look,” he said, not angry, but feeling very tired all at once. “If you want to go, you can go. I’ll pick up the tab, since I was planning to anyway. I’ll even drink what you ordered if you want to leave, since truth be told, I’ll drink beer just as easily as wine, even if it tastes like horse piss going both ways.”
“I didn’t…” Sei frowned at him, and he realized he could see the gears in her head…standing still. Not frantically churning out an excuse. Not trying to come up with a way to salvage what was left of the date, little though it was.
Here, Kunikuda would commit what he would later call to his friends his second, enormous, huge, unforgivable gaffe of the evening; one that, he would add in quiet, you know tones, prettymuch earned him that night of cold, lonely masturbation.
“You did. You’re looking at me like you’re scared I’m going to rape you. It’s like instead of a suave, well-dressed man eying you with mild concern, you see sitting across from you a lazy-eyed, two-hundred pound chain-gangster leering at you over a flask of paint thinner.” He liked that. That was good. “So if you want to leave, that’s fine.”
“I don’t,” Sei said, pressing her hands into her lap in a fashion which Kunikuda could not help but find unbearably cute. She even turned away slightly, blushing. She hated that—she wasn’t even doing it on purpose.
Truth be told, he was only half on the mark, she thought. She certainly didn’t see a suave, well-dressed man sitting across from her, but she was confident in her ability to defend herself, or at least to scream loud enough to wake half the neighborhood should the need arise. But she wasn’t afraid, either. Not really. You’re not afraid of some guy whose only sin is trying to wine you maybe a little too fast and wearing socks that don’t live up to what his pants and shoes promise. (A little gaffe she’d noticed on the way in).
But you are.
But she was. She wasn’t afraid of men, but truth be told, she was piss-herself scared of this one, because he wasn’t acting like she’d expected. He wasn’t leering at her over a flask of paint thinner, fondling his (unbearably small) erection, burping loud enough to shake the chairs.
The truth is, you know absolutely shit about good men. That’s what your problem is.
“Here. Let me help you get your coat.” Kunikuda did not let any of his disappointment, nor his frustration, creep into his voice, instead keeping it gentle and strong all at once, as he had learned to do long ago. (Women, he knew, loved men with good bodies, but would still fall in love with a good radio personality any day of the week). Nonetheless, Sei knew it was there, because how could it not be?
But at the same time, this wasn’t what she wanted. What she needed.
“No,” she said, and then with a very brave hand, touched his arm as it reached for her. “Please, have a seat. I’m sorry.”
“Will you tell me what it is that’s scaring you so badly?”
“I’m not—” She tried it a second time, and it was no more effective than the first.
“You are. Your hand is trembling.”
“I’m cold.”
“You ordered a cold beer. The restaurant is heated.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and then Kunikuda sat down with a grin on his face. He found that, in spite of his frustration, he actually liked Sei quite a bit.
Sei found she was thinking the same about this man, but not in the way he would have liked. She liked his directness, and she liked the way he knew when to quit. (His friends would have disagreed with that—perhaps he simply got the no trespassing scent a little earlier than usual this time around, they would say).
The waiter appeared then, and without looking at either of them, placed their drinks in front of them. “Will you be needing any more time to decide on your food?”
“Dunno,” Kunikuda said. “Will you, Sei?”
Sei looked at him for a long moment, trying to decide what he meant by that. Then, finally, “Yeah—yes. Please come back in a few minutes.”
The waiter bowed and vanished, and Kunikuda said, “You can be remarkably gentle.”
“You should see the school I went to. If you went there for twelve years, you’d be a gentle lady by the time you were through too.” She said it without thinking about it, and then all at once, she burst into a small fit of laughter, thinking a bit of Yumi—if they could make a lady out of her, they could make a lady out of anybody. Even Sei.
Kunikuda snorted indulgently. “Where is that?”
“It’s the same school I go to now. Have you heard of the Lillian school?”
“Only in rumor and speculation. It’s an all-girls catholic school is what I heard.”
“You heard right. What were the rumors?”
“Nothing worth mentioning, especially not in polite company.”
Sei snorted back at him at this, equally indulgently. “Go on. I’m the last person you want to think of as polite compa—” she stopped. What the hell are you doing, woman? You’re getting sucked into this conversation so fast…you’re starting to let your guard down. What the hell did you just let yourself say? At this rate, he’s gonna…
Gonna know you.
Kunikuda was looking at her seriously. She tried to smile back at him, but found it didn’t suit her that time.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing important.”
“You frequently stop speaking midword?”
She looked away. Why won’t he just stop asking questions and acting all concerned? It’s annoying and difficult.
He’s probably thinking the same thing about you. The thought brought her a deceptive warmth, one which, if depended on for heat, only led to frostbite.
“Tell me. I feel as though I’m being jerked around here and I’ve only known you for ten minutes.”
“What do you care?” she snapped at him, louder than she’d intended. She could hear the room go a little quieter at that—can you really hear something like that? Is the absence of noise a sound unto itself?
Is the absence of companionship company unto itself?
The question nagged at her more than she would have liked.
Kunikuda took a moment to unfreeze himself, and then after another moment, settled back into his seat. “Because,” he said, “heaven help me, but I like you.” She froze now, and he shrugged as best he could. “Take that as you want. I liked talking with you for the twenty seconds we did it, and I think I enjoyed your company the first time we met, even if you didn’t enjoy mine, which is frankly why I was shocked when you called me back, and why I was a little suspicious. Was I wrong to be suspicious?”
“What do you mean?” she said.
“I mean, are you jerking me around?”
“What do you mean?” she repeated, honestly unsure of what he was saying.
“I mean,” he said, then took a moment to think. When he spoke again, it was slower, his voice quieter and more controlled than it usually was: “Are you using me for something you could have just asked me for?”
“I can’t ask you for anything,” she said. “I don’t know you.” If I did, would it matter?
“If you did,” he said, “would it help?” She nearly choked. “You’re tense and nervous and it’s making you irritable, isn’t it?”
He was right, and she knew it. What was worse, she hadn’t covered it up—as though his upfront, disarming mannerisms had taken all of the Lady out of her, and destroyed all of the many defenses the Lady in her provided.
And, she knew, that was exactly it.
He had been upfront and honest with her, even so far as to offer her the door because he knew she wanted to take it. He was on the level with her, and he seemed comfortable with the fact that he wasn’t going to be getting any off her, or if he wasn’t, he gave no sign of it.
He had even been a good sport when he figured out he was being used. That was the worst thing of all, the most horrible thing. He knew it, and he’d caught on faster than she could have imagined.
This…she sighed. I suppose this is what a good man looks like.
Here was where Kunikuda’s friends and Sei would be in complete agreement. Maybe they thought he was usually too pushy, and maybe she thought his taste in wine was a little bit odd, because he’d ordered what she’d spotted as the shittiest drink on the menu, but neither would have argued with the other over this one central argument: Endo Kunikuda was a generally good man.
Really, wasn’t that the one thing she wasn’t really expecting, except in her most bitter, hopeful thoughts?
(to admit that you’d have to acknowledge that such a thing exists)
(don’t be a narrowminded bitch)
“You’re right,” she said. “You’re right and I’m sorry.”
He smiled the smile of a man victorious in his defeat, disappointed and contented all at once, and leaned back. “Do tell,” he said, and in that instant, Sei moved even nearer to Endo Kunikuda’s friends, a group which she would be joining within a couple of weeks, though she didn’t know it: She thought he was being a bit pushy.
Nonetheless, she thought that he was maybe entitled to a little bit of explanation.
First, though, the waiter, come like a southern wind, chilling the skin only just, so that if you complained to your friend about it, he might call you a pansy. “May I bring you anything?”
Sei shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m really not hungry, you know that?”
Endo shook his head. “Uh-uh. I’m paying, so you’re eating.” (He’s actually kind of pushy, Sei thought.) “Order whatever you’d like.”
Sei couldn’t help but huff a bit. After a moment, she glanced at her menu, ignored for most of the time they’d been there, and said, “One teriyaki burger, well-done, please, with rice instead of french fries.”
The waiter nodded, and then looked at Kunikuda, who, after careful deliberation, ordered the exact same thing. This bought them once again respite from his icy presence, and she was a little grateful.
They stared at each other for a long moment then, and Kunikuda said, “So. You were going to tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
He smiled at her. “Whatever your little heart desires, I believe.”
She sighed, knowing what he meant, and then looked back up at him.
And then, just as she opened her mouth to tell him, I’m a lesbian and I’m afraid of what my classmates might do to me, socially or otherwise, if they find out because half of them are nothing more than narrow-minded pieces of trash, and so I need to go out on a date with a guy so that they'll think that I’m straight but just shy, but I’m fucking it all up because the truth is I’m scared witless of most men because we all fear what we know nothing about and I’ve been with nothing but girls since I was five and my dad was a bastard and so I didn’t know any good men and you’re taking me all off-guard and I’m really glad you are because I think I like you too but not in that way because I play for the other team you know I hope you understand, the restaurant’s doors opened, a motion which her eyes just happened to catch, and Yumi Fukuzawa walked through them and went into the bar.
And then she stopped dead. The bottom dropped out of her stomach, and every single part of her except her body left the table in that instant, reaching out for that happy, perky, expressive girl.
Y…
Yumi.
Yumi.
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