Amanda Sun - Rain

“Katie, sit down,” Tomo said, starting to lift himself up.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Shiori needs to sit.”

She beamed, a little too proud of herself. We were both trying to be thoughtful, but I worried she was reading into it too much. I took a breath as the train lurched into motion. She didn’t have anyone but Tomo looking out for her. I had to trust him to let her know if things went too far.

Tomo rose out of his seat. “Sit,” he said. His eyes searched mine, apologetic. I felt awkward to sit next to Shiori, but standing would make the situation worse, like I was being difficult. I sat down beside her; neither of us looked happy.

“So, Tomo-kun,” Shiori tried. “I have three more weeks of school and then that’s it.”

He nodded. “Not long now, ne? ”

“That’s exciting,” I attempted. Shiori smiled, but it was forced. I could see that.

“Thanks,” she said. “So why are you headed this way, Tomo-kun? You couldn’t be going to Myu’s house...?” Tomo winced at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. Obviously he wasn’t going there. Why was she messing with him?

“We’re going to some mystery place,” I said, trying to lighten the tension. “My guess is possibly the zoo, but he won’t tell me.”

“Oh, I love the zoo!” Shiori said. “Tomo’s taken me many times.”

Tomo looked as uncomfortable as I felt. I knew she was like a sister to him—why was she trying to make it sound like more? But then I looked at her face and the look in her eyes. Oh. She wants it to be more, doesn’t she? He protected her, stood up for her through all the bullying. He was her knight in shining armor, and I was in the way.

“We like watching the lemurs, right, Tomo-kun?”

Tomo folded his arms, leaning the back of his head against the metal pole. The beams of light from the window lit his hair like a flame. “It’s the red pandas I like.”

Shiori’s voice was quiet. “Right,” she said. “The red pandas. I forgot.”

“Lemurs are cute, though,” he added, trying to soften what he’d said. “Anyway, Katie and I aren’t going to the zoo, but we are going on a date.” The words startled me, since he’d been too indirect to say it like that before. Then I realized—he was trying to get the message across. He was trapped, but he didn’t want to embarrass either one of us.

Shiori’s face fell. “Oh.”

This whole thing was stupid. Couldn’t we just come out and say how we felt? Tomo and I were together, but I didn’t want to hurt Shiori.

“You can come with us,” I blurted out. Tomo raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “It’s more fun that way anyway, right?”

“Oh, I’m too busy,” Shiori said. “I have that appointment, and then I need to stop for a couple things we need for dinner.” The train was slowing, pulling into the next stop, and the motion sent an elderly man’s bag skidding across the floor. Tomo dashed after it, returning it to the bowing, grateful man. Shiori leaned into me while he was gone, her voice low. “It’s a shame you don’t know how to cook Japanese food, Katie. How will you ever keep a Japanese man happy?”

Did she actually just say that? “Sorry?”

Shiori sighed. “It’s pathetic, you know, trying to steal Tomo from me.”

My mouth opened, but I had to force words out. “Steal him?”

“Tomo-kun and I have been inseparable since we were little. You think you’re going to change that?”

My stomach twisted; I’d never heard Shiori sound like this. “I’m not trying to get between you.”

“I don’t need your pity invites to everything you do. Anyway, do you even know the first thing about dating a Japanese guy? Poor Tomo-kun. Japanese guys have totally different expectations than Americans, you know. I could never date a foreigner. I mean, for a bit of meaningless fun, maybe, but not long-term. You know your relationship with Tomo isn’t going to go anywhere serious, right? Wait...did you know?” She looked at the bright red plastered on my cheeks. “ Ara, you did! Never mind. Enjoy your date. It’s nice to be exotic, even if it’s short-lived, right?” She rose to her feet as the train doors opened, waving her hand at Tomo with a big smile as she went out the door. I stared at her like a blowfish, my mouth open in a big O as the train pulled away.

Tomo collapsed into the seat beside me, the motion making the seat jump a little. “Daijoubu?” he asked. “You look pale.”

“I’m not okay,” I said. “Not at all. Did you hear what she said?”

He leaned forward. “What?”

But I couldn’t say it. It was hurtful, but it was true, wasn’t it? I was stumbling over every cultural difference, like Jun’s name. What kind of expectations did Tomo have? Was I supposed to cook lunches for him like in animes? Women working in the offices brought tea for their male coworkers at break time, and Diane had told me about a teacher who’d quit working because she’d gotten married. Did Tomo expect me to do that, too? Were we really too different to have a future?

“Nothing,” I said. I was scared Tomo would agree with what she’d said. He’d already acted pretty jealous about the Jun thing.

“Forget her,” Tomo said. “It’s probably baby hormones talking. Today it’s just you and me, ii? ” He ruffled my hair with his slender fingers, a grin carving its way onto his lips. I smiled back, confidence slowly flooding back into me. Tomo liked to cook, for one thing. Yuki had told me that was pretty unconventional for a Japanese guy. Maybe he wasn’t typical in any way.

Shiori had reminded me that I was different, that I didn’t fit in. But the way Tomo looked at me right now, I didn’t feel different at all.

“Up a mountainside?”

Tomohiro grinned. We’d been riding the bus for fifteen minutes, scaling closer and closer to the summit on the narrow roads that tunneled through the trees.

“This isn’t exactly the most convenient spot for everyday meetings,” I said.

“Okay, fine, maybe it’s a bit far for every day,” Tomo said, slouching into the bus seat. “But it’s worth it.”

I stared out the window as the bus pulled up to a platform. Forests surrounded us in a blanket of leaves, more lush green than I’d seen in one place since moving to Shizuoka. Above the trees, a thick wire ran up the hill.

“What is this place?”

The bus shuddered to a stop, and we hopped off the front, dropping our yen into the plastic box beside the steering wheel.

“Nihondaira,” Tomo said, and the moment we stepped out of the bus, the fresh, sweet mountain air gusted around us.

The chirps of wagtails and Japanese bush warblers echoed from every corner of the forests. It was as though Toro Iseki had burst through its boundaries and transformed into an overgrown secret garden.

The crows cawed incessantly, the only familiar sound that we were still in Shizuoka.

“Look,” he said and stretched out his arm. It was hard to see, but there was something in the distance across the bay, a looming shape with a cap of white at the top. “The air’s muggy, but you can kind of make it out.”

Mount Fuji towered over the landscape, reaching into the sky like a giant. I’d never seen a mountain that huge in my entire life.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “This whole area is.”

“And remote,” he said. “Well, except the tourists.” Most of the ground around us was paved into a huge parking lot for the tour buses. But on the edges of that platform, the rolling mountains teemed with life and sound. I turned—behind us stood a variety of radio towers in striped red and white. To the right of us was a touristy-looking building about half the height of the towers.