Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I just woke up. I feel groggy. And out of it.

I can hear a strange beeping noise. Is that my alarm?

Have to turn it off.

I reach my hand out in an attempt to find it, but I just find bed sheets. 

As I become more awake, I realize I have the worst headache I’ve ever had. It's a pounding feeling that starts at the base of my skull and goes all the way to my scalp. My body also feels very heavy.

I slowly open my eyes in my search for the offending device. When I do, I see a white ceiling made up of square panels.

Confused by the strange sight, which definitely isn't my home, I turn my head to get more information. When I do, I feel an even more painful pounding at the base of my skull.

It makes me wince, but I have to figure out what's happening. And turn off that damn alarm. It doesn't help that everything's blurry.

Eventually, I can make out a long pole next to my bed that is connected to a beeping machine. I also identify a large window that is letting lots of sunlight into the room.

Just as I start putting things together, someone comes into the room, and they say…something.

“Bzbz bzzbj bzbzj!”

“Wh-what?”

“Bzbz bzbzjz bzjzb!”

The person speaking this unintelligible language approaches the bed. They squeeze my hand and put something on my face, over my eyes. Suddenly, things are no longer blurry. 

Oh. I didn't have my glasses on.

With my vision restored, I see someone I know better than anyone  - my mother. She looks exhausted. Her brown eyes have bags under them and her normally very stylish shoulder-length hair is in a messy bun. She's also not wearing any makeup, which is unusual.

She's smiling at me and crying. I squeeze her hand back.

My restored eyesight also helps me identify the room I’m in, and it's as I was beginning to suspect - I'm in a hospital.

“M-mom…what’s going on?”

She holds my hand and kisses it before saying, “Bzbzbz zbzjzb zbzjzbz.”

I squint as if that will help me decipher my mom's strange new language, “Why are you talking like that? I don't understand anything. Talk normally.”

My mom frowns and puts her hand on my head and says, “Bzbz bzjzbz bzjzbz.” She gives my hand a squeeze and heads out into the hall.

After that, a nurse comes to the room. She smiles at me and checks my vitals. She tries to talk to me too, but I don't understand anything. Then she leaves. 

Not long after that, another hospital worker of some sort comes into the room all smiles. She gives my mom a hug and they have what must be a conversation, but none of it sounds like words to me. 

Everyone is speaking in the exact same strange way. I start to feel disoriented and confused. Like I woke up in an alternate dimension where almost everything is the same. Except humans now speak much differently. It doesn't even sound like a language. It's more like static. Or buzzing.

I can tell that people are speaking. And everyone but me can understand one another. And based on their reactions I think people understand me . But I can't make any sense of anything anyone says. Not a single word.

 An alternate dimension isn't very likely. But maybe I lost my mind? I am in a hospital after all.

The woman who hugged my mom smiles at me and waves before leaving the room. I wave back, awkwardly.

Then my mother stands at the foot of the bed, looking increasingly worried and occasionally saying something unintelligible. It doesn't make me feel any better.

Luckily we aren't alone for too long, as a doctor enters the room with the nurse from before.

The doctor, after listening to my lungs and heart with a thoughtful look on his face, sits down next to my bed and pulls out a notepad. He's a tall, thin man, probably in his 50s. His receding hairline gives him a severe widow's peak. He has very kind eyes that make me feel comfortable.

He writes something on his notepad and shows it to me.

Can you read this?

I look at my mom, who plasters a fake smile on her face when I look at her. Then I turn back to the doctor, “O-of course I can.”

He nods, gives me a thumbs up, and flips to the next page of his notepad and starts writing again. 

Can you write your name for me?

He hands me the notepad and pen, and I write, “Reina Kato.” My movements felt a little sluggish, but my handwriting looks the same as it usually does. He must be satisfied too, because he nods and takes back the notepad.

Then he asks me two dozen more questions. He writes them down and I respond verbally. He asks my age, who my mother is, what year it is, what university I go to, and so on. He’s clearly trying to make sure I have it together. I feel kind of relieved that I’m able to answer all of his questions, as it makes me feel less crazy. But by the time we’re on the 20th question, I’m starting to get frustrated and impatient. I’d really like to know what the hell is going on.

Finally, he writes a question related to what I’m most confused about.

Do you remember what happened? To put you in the hospital?

I close my eyes and think for a moment, “The last thing I remember is…I was riding my bike home from university. I think.”

He nods and writes: 

A car swerved into the bike lane and clipped your bicycle. You had only minor bruises and abrasions on your body. But you hit your head very hard. You were unconscious when the ambulance got there. Once you were here, it was clear you had suffered a significant Traumatic Brain Injury. You've been in a shallow coma for 10 days.

I frown and look at my mom for confirmation. She nods.

That explains the pounding headache. I’m pretty mad this happened even though I wear a helmet. But I guess I would probably be dead if I wasn’t wearing it.

“But…I'm okay now?”

The doctor nods and writes his next note.

There is nothing life threatening. And now that you’re awake, it’s clear you’ve retained your cognitive function. We will do some more tests and a brain scan, but the prognosis is very good.

That’s a relief, but…

“Then…what’s going on? Why do you all sound so strange?”

He frowns and clicks his pen a few times. He takes a second to write his next message.

Can you hear the tapping of my pen?

He taps the pen on the wall. I can definitely hear it.

I point to the heart monitor, “Yeah. And the beeping of this really annoying machine.”

My mom chuckles so I add, “And I just heard my mom's laugh.”

The doctor laughs too and writes his next message.

What does it sound like when we speak?

Just as I finish reading his message, he says, “Bzbz bzbz jbzbzj.”

He points to my mother with his pen. She says, “Bzbz bzj.”

I sigh in frustration, and think over how to respond, “It's like…sound with no meaning. Kind of like…cicadas buzzing, almost.”

The doctor nods and writes the lengthiest message so far. I get impatient watching him write. The longer he takes, the more worried I get.

When he finally finishes he hands me his notepad so that I can read his long message. My mom comes and reads over my shoulder.

Sometimes Traumatic Brain Injuries can damage the brain and affect our senses. Based on your injury and what you have described, it is likely that the part of your brain for understanding speech was damaged. You can hear, and you can speak and compose language yourself, but you can't process the meaning of incoming speech. This is called auditory verbal agnosia.

My heart sinks as I read these words.

I look at him, “So…I won't ever understand people again? Is there any way to fix that part of my brain? Is there a surgery or something?”

My mom hands him back the notepad and looks as eager to hear his answer as I am. It doesn’t take him very long to write his response.

No. I'm sorry.

My mom clings to my shoulder and starts to cry. I do my best to hug her while hooked up to everything. I want to cry too, but I'm so overwhelmed I can't. This almost doesn't seem real to me. 

The doctor takes in our reaction and starts writing something.

You can still lead a full life.

I find myself converting my would-be tears into anger.

I cross my arms and shoot him my best glare, “Easy for you to say. It isn't happening to you. You can still understand people! I have to spend the rest of my life having people write things down for me. So don't tell me it's ‘fine.’” I aggressively use air quotes for the last word before recrossing my arms aggressively.

He nods and gives me a contrite expression before writing something new.

You're right. I'm sorry. What I should have said is that this SUCKS. And it's going to be very hard. But I will do everything I can to help find a path for you to have the fullest life possible.

I uncross my arms, “That's better. So you've seen this before?” 

He nods. 

“So what's the next step?”

Well, you will be here for a while so we can manage your pain, monitor you, and you can recover a little more. 

I nod, “I get that . I mean, what's the first step on my path to this full life you keep talking about?”

Learning sign language. And how to read lips.

I look down at my hands, “Oh. That sounds…tough. But I guess I don't have much of a choice.”

My mom asks for the note pad and writes. 

I'll learn sign language too, sweetie. I want to still be able to talk to you.

I smile at her, “Thanks. That would be nice.” 

I get discharged tomorrow. Counting the week and a half I was unconscious, I've been here for 20 days. I'm more than ready to go home.

Right now my mom is on the phone with my university. 

I was halfway through my last semester when this happened. My mom is trying to find out what accommodations they can give me.

My professors were all willing to give me ‘incompletes’ so that I can finish up their classes at some point in the future. But I asked my mom if she could find out the specifics of how I can finish up my degree. I'm getting anxious about the details.

After all, I'm never going to understand another lecture.

I'm flipping through the most recent issue of Comic Yuri Hime which I've already read five times over the last week. At this point I'm mostly just looking at the cute pictures. Pictures of cute girls holding hands and kissing always raises my spirits a little bit.

I'm trying to tune out my mom's phone conversation. It's not like I can understand what she's saying, and trying to figure it out drives me a little bit crazy.

I suppose I should be glad that I can still speak, write, and read. It could have been worse. 

I was never one who talked to others a whole lot anyway. In school, I was that weird quiet girl in the corner who never talked to anyone. I always felt different and out of place. I just sat at my desk and read during breaks and lunch, barely saying a word to anyone.

I've always been a mousy little tomboy. I don't like wearing girly clothes. I don't wear makeup. I keep my hair really short. That's what has always felt right to me. But this had the unfortunate effect of getting me bullied by the boys and girls. So keeping to myself was the best option.

I've maybe gotten a little more social since then, but I still like spending time alone in my room wrapped in a blanket and reading more than I like spending time with anyone. I like the quiet peace of solitude.

I'm going to university for creative writing. Because I want to write stories like the ones I like to read. In fact, I've already written a few short stories that have won some inter-university awards.

There isn't very much I like about myself. But I'm very proud of my writing and what I have accomplished. Writing is my favorite thing in the whole world.

So, as challenging as it is that I can't understand speech anymore, I think I would be even more upset if I couldn't read or write. I'm glad those parts of my brain made it through unscathed. 

But…not being able to speak to my mom normally is tough. She is by far the person I spend the most time with. It's just been me and her against the world my whole life. She had me when she was only 19. And she had very little support. The guy didn't take responsibility and her family disowned her.

There were some tough years when I was little. My mom had to work multiple jobs to support us, mostly as a waitress. But after about 10 years she worked her way up to manager and co-owner at a cafe that she helped make super popular. She put me through university and everything.

She's everything I'm not. Beautiful, feminine, a social butterfly, proactive, and strong. I wouldn't blame her for being disappointed that I turned out the way I did.

But I know she doesn't. She's an amazing mom who is always there for me. Like right now.

Luckily we'll be able to communicate more effectively soon. Even though she is here with me, I kind of miss her at the same time, since actually having a two-way conversation takes extra steps now.

The hospital gave us the number of an agency that helps people like me, who suddenly lose their ability to communicate. They offer intensive sign language courses and will even come to your home. This is ideal for me, the shut-in that I am.

We picked the most intensive course -  4 hours a day, 6 days a week. My mom is only working half days for the next couple of months so she can learn. It starts the day after tomorrow.

It all sounds intense, but it's what we need if we want to be able to communicate in the near future. And what I need to be able to communicate at all. 

My mom pats me on the shoulder, pulling me out of my head, and shows me a note she wrote, 

I spoke with disability services. They said they would set things up for you to finish your courses when you're ready. They said it would be no problem. They will have helpers transcribe lectures for you and make sure you can have the course material in a way you can understand it.

Huh. I'm ‘disabled’ now. I hadn't really thought about it in those terms. Like…I'm not DEAF, so I didn't think of it as a disability. But I guess not being able to understand speech is a pretty massive limitation.

“Thank you. That's good to hear.” I chuckle wryly, “I guess I should say ‘good to read’ but that doesn't seem right.”

My mom laughs and sits down on my bed and writes another message. Then she shows it to me and takes my hand.

We'll get through this, you and me. Just like we always have.

I nod, “Yeah, we will. Hopefully soon you won't have to write so much. I’m pretty anxious to start learning.”

I just took a bath. Now I'm going downstairs to the kitchen. I took a bath last night too, my first night back home.  It was amazing being able to take a real bath after all that time in the hospital. That’s why I decided to take another one this morning. I almost didn’t want to get out, but I should get something to eat before the teacher shows up.

As I'm pondering what might be for breakfast, I'm surprised by what I hear as I head down the stairs.

My mom is talking to someone. I don't know what they are saying of course, but I think I recognize mom's voice. Or at least…the sound I hear when she speaks.

“BZBZ BZBZBZJ BZBZ. Wahaha~”

I can’t tell much about the other person, other than that the buzzing sound they make is louder than anyone else I have heard so far. And they have a silly laugh. My mom is laughing along with them, too.

I double check the time on my phone. 

It's only 8 a.m., the instructor shouldn't be here for an hour. Is it someone else? Maybe someone from the cafe dropped by. But I doubt it. We never have people over. My mom knows I'm bad with people in general, and now that I can't talk to people it's even worse.

When I reach the kitchen, I see that my mom is eating breakfast and chatting with a young woman who is probably about my age. She has short, shaggy light brown hair that frames her face, and light brown eyes that are almost golden.

My first thought about her appearance is that she's beautiful. This makes me very anxious.

They both notice that I've entered the room, and the woman I don't know stands up and gives me an excited wave. An overly excited one, really. She's smiling ear to ear and moving her hand like crazy.

Art by  Lucio Neru

What is she so HAPPY about? 

Rather than return the strange but very attractive woman's wave, I look at my mother quizzically. She gestures towards the woman, who has pulled a small white board out of a briefcase. She gets out a marker that squeaks a little as she writes a message. Then she turns it toward me.

I'm Ms. Mikado, your instructor! It's very nice to meet you! I'm excited to work with you and your mom! 

I feel very surprised by the message’s contents.

“Um…I'm Reina. A-aren't you…a l-little young?” Ugh, my voice just cracked.

Miss Mikado gives me an annoyingly playful wink and erases her first message before writing a new one.

Reina, it's not nice to ask a woman her age!

But if you have to know, I'm 25! I've been teaching full time for 3 years, and I got some experience teaching in high school and university, too!

She even comes off as unnecessarily excited in her writing. It's like she thinks the exclamation point is the only way to end a sentence. 

I scratch my head in confusion, “Okay, then. But…a-aren't you really early?” Ugh, my voice cracked again! And I was trying really hard that time.

She puts her hands on her hips and lets out a “Wahahaha~” before writing another message.

I sure am! I wrote it down wrong in my planner! Woops!

Feel free to eat breakfast and enjoy your morning! We'll get started around 9! Don't mind me! 

This woman who only knows one form of punctuation and can't even schedule things correctly is supposed to teach me something? Something crucial for me to have anything resembling a normal life?

Color me skeptical.

I look at my mom who gives me a big smile. 

My mom likes her I guess. But I can already tell that our personalities clash. I'm a reserved, gloomy, quiet person and Miss Mikado is an over-the-top, bubbly, loud person.

Throw in the fact that my already terrible social anxiety gets worse around people my own age - especially girls I'm attracted to - and this intensive sign language class is now looking pretty awful.

Couldn't they have sent a relaxed old man or something?

Chapter Text

It's time for my first sign language lesson.

I'm going into this with lots of negative feelings both about myself and my teacher.

I don't think she is experienced enough or sharp enough to do this. I mean, she didn't even get here at the right time.

I am also very annoyed by her ‘genki girl’ personality. It’s like she thinks she’s some kind of cutesy manga character. I mean, she’s even wearing a matching hair pin and bracelet with little hearts on them! The only thing she’s missing is hair that is a completely unrealistic color. I like manga, but a lot of those stock character archetypes would be super annoying if you ever met them in real life, and Ms. Mikado is living proof of that.

On top of all of that, I'm very anxious. I am already pretty bad at warming up to strangers. But I'm even worse with her. I really don't want her to know I think she's cute for a whole host of reasons.

Basically, my mind is a complete mess. 

Seems like a good environment for learning something that is crucial for me to have anything resembling a remotely normal existence in society, right?

My mom and I are sitting on the couch in our living room, while Ms. Mikado has connected her laptop to a portable projector she brought with her. She is projecting her screen onto a bare wall. She's standing by her laptop to our right and appears to be getting things set up. Her big smile still hasn't left her face at any point in the hour since I met her.

No one can be that happy all the time. I wish she'd just relax. She doesn't have to smile constantly.

She opens a Word document and types, 

“Reina, before we start - I want to make sure the information I have about your hearing is right.”

At least she doesn't use so many exclamation points when she types. 

I turn towards her with a nod and gesture for her to continue.

“You can't understand speech at all, right?”

I reply, “R-right. I can speak. And hear. B-but I can't understand speech.” Is my voice ever going to stop cracking around her?!

Ms. Mikado looks pensive for a moment. As pensive as one can look while smiling like an idiot, anyway. She's tapping her finger on her chin. That moment stretches into several.

No surprise there. She's too young and inexperienced. She's in over her head already. Maybe this will allow me to get someone else to teach us. Someone more relaxed. And old. And male.

Seizing the opportunity, I channel as much courage as I can into my voice, “I-is there a problem? If my condition isn't something you've dealt with before, maybe we should get someone else.” Ugh, it still wasn’t great, but I at least didn’t sound like a scared kitten.

My mother clicks her tongue and glares daggers at me, but I do my best to ignore her.

Ms. Mikado's smile never falters as she types.

“I haven't taught someone with your specific condition before.”

 

She gives me a playful wink before continuing.

  “But don't worry, I'm gonna do great! I spent the weekend thinking about how I would approach this and talked it over with some of my colleagues too.”

I continue pretending to be confident as I say, “Wouldn't one of those colleagues just be better if you haven't taught someone like me?” 

My mom clicks her tongue again. This time she lightly taps me on the leg and gives me an even more intense look than before. Her jaw is clenched and her eyes are narrowed. My mom’s never hit me before. Or even looked like she was about to. But right now I think she’s pretty damn close. 

Ms. Mikado starts to type. She's still smiling, but her eyes are less playful, and more serious.

I wanted her to stop smiling so much, but now I feel like a jerk for causing her to look a little less happy. I…probably went too far. 

“I think I will do a very good job. But if you disagree once we get started, we can talk about that.”

She makes eye contact with me, but I frantically look away, feeling embarrassed for my behavior.

She's annoying, sure. And she makes me very nervous. The first and only other time I was immediately attracted to a girl that I met, it did not end well. So it's tempting to just…get someone else where that's not a problem. 

But I should give her a chance at least. Besides, she’s so annoying that it’s not like I’m going to fall for her or anything.

I'm brought out of my head when my mom claps me on the shoulder and looks at me with raised eyebrows. She subtly tilts her head in Ms. Mikado’s direction. I know what she wants me to do. I do my best to give her a look that says, ‘I was gonna do it anyway!’ 

I quietly say, “I-I'm sorry. I shouldn’t h-have started questioning you before we’ve even started. I'm just…um…nervous.”

Ms. Mikado smiles at me, her eyes become playful again, and she waves her hand dismissively before typing, 

“It's okay. I know that this is all very stressful for you. It makes sense that you’re worried about my experience and stuff.”

 

She gives me what must be the fourth playful wink of the last hour and a half before continuing to type.

“This probably won’t be the last time you get frustrated with me. It’s part of learning. But I promise I’m really really good! And that you’ll pick up sign language really well with my help!”

I nod and bow my head a little.

She's more mature than she seems at first. And I'm more of a child than I think I am. 

I look back up when I hear typing again. 

“Anyway, I was just taking one last minute to think about how the lesson plan might be a little different in your situation.”

“B-but isn't sign language the same for everyone?”

She nods and types,

“It is, yes. But how I teach it depends on you. There are lots of different kinds of hearing impairment. I was just taking a sec to confirm whether what I was planning was best for you!”

I nod, “N-now I’m curious – what makes my situation different than most?”

“You can speak perfectly. That means you will have no problem being understood by others, only understanding others.  So we need to focus the most on helping you understand others. And that’s where lipreading comes in.”

“D-does that mean we'll spend more time on lipreading than sign language?”

Ms. Mikado shakes her head without hesitation and types a new message.

“Problem is, lip reading isn’t perfect! It's a useful tool to use to help you understand things better, but not one that will let you understand everything. Or even close to it. We’ll talk about it more later today. Point is, normally lipreading is something I wait a little while to do, but I think we should get started with it sooner.”

"Oh. Okay then. You're the expert.”

She really is. Clearly. Just because she's a goofy airhead doesn't mean she doesn't know what she's doing.

She gives me another wink and then her smile gets even wider, which I didn't think was possible. Her smile now is so warm and bright that it makes it look like her face was only neutral before.

She might always smile, but I'm already picking up on there being a range of DIFFERENT smiles.

She types,

“This first week, we'll do 3 hours of sign language, and then 1 hour of lip reading. We'll have a 10 minute break every hour, and a 30 minute break for lunch. Does that work for both of you?”

 

After my mom and I both agree she types, 

“This week, we will learn how to sign all 46 Kana. Once you know them all, you can sign almost anything by spelling it out! We're going to start with our names.”

 

Ms. Mikado opens up PowerPoint and springs up from her chair looking very excited. A slideshow starts, and we make our way through the kana slowly, but surely.

The whole time, I feel strange looking at her so much. Like I'm leering at her or something. And I worry she can tell I think she's pretty just from how I'm looking at her. But I repeatedly tell myself I have to so that I can learn how to sign each kana. I can’t very well learn sign language if I’m not looking at my teacher when she is showing us how to do the signs.

A few times when we make eye contact I quickly look away. I'm bad at eye contact in general, but with her it's really hard.

…

It's time for our lunch break. 

After practicing the kana, my mom and I learned how to spell out our names. And how to ask someone what their name is. There's going to be a lot of rote memorization for me to get this down all the way. But this intensive class will certainly help. I'm going to constantly go through the kana until I get them right. It isn't exactly efficient, but Ms. Mikado is right, once you know those, you can spell out almost anything.

It's also good that this intensive course will let me reinforce everything on an almost daily basis.

I'm looking forward to giving my mind a break, though. I'm tired from learning, but also tired of Ms. Mikado. She seems to have limitless energy, and it makes me feel like I constantly have to be ‘on.’ Throw in the fact that I'm constantly anxious around her for other reasons, and it's exhausting for me.

I might spend lunch up in my room wrapped in my blanket to recharge my batteries. I bet my cat, Haru, is up there. Normally she’d be downstairs with us, but she's been hiding since Ms. Mikado got here.

She has the right idea. I'd hide from her too if I could. Don't worry Haru, I'll be there soon.

Just as I'm about to announce my plans, I notice my mom and Ms. Mikado are talking about something. 

They are both smiling and nodding a lot. Times like these make it clear how badly I need to learn sign language.

They give each other one last smile and nod and then my mom approaches me. She makes like she is holding chopsticks and moving them to her mouth, and points to each of us. Ms. Mikado is wearing a huge smile and nodding enthusiastically.

So much for recharging my batteries. Sorry, Haru.

When I follow the two to the kitchen, I'm surprised when my mom gets some containers of food out of the fridge. I hadn't realized she planned for this. She must have gotten up early. I shouldn’t be surprised though, that’s pretty typical of my mom.

My mouth starts to water at the sight. She makes some amazing lunches, and I haven't enjoyed them since I got hurt.

I mentally cross my fingers hoping for one dish in particular. We all sit down to eat. I make sure to sit far from Ms. Mikado so I don't have to look at her too much.

When I open my lunch, I am very happy to find the pork cutlet I was craving. Her breading has this amazing crunchy consistency and just enough of a soy sauce taste.

There's also a rice ball and some pickled vegetables.

But I’m a brat and I kind of wish this thing was just stuffed full of pork cutlets.

I really, really love meat. Like, probably a little too much. It can definitely improve my mood significantly.

My mom and Ms. Mikado start chatting. I find that I'm relieved that I don't have to take part in the conversation. I pull the hood up on the ratty old hoodie I always wear, and dig into the pork cutlet and tune the two of them out.

Well, my hoodie is kind of like a blanket. I can recharge this way I guess. It would still be nicer to be in my bed with Haru, though.

I close my eyes and let my mind go blank and just enjoy my meal.

I’m brought out of my reverie by a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see a smiling Ms. Mikado right next to me.

I let out a high-pitched “Eep!” and drop my chopsticks. 

I feel my cheeks flush, embarrassed that I made such a ridiculous noise and that I was startled in the first place. But I really didn't expect her to be so close to me. 

She smells good. Like…some sweet subtle floral scent. I don't know enough about flowers to identify it though.

She apologizes with her eyes and then her gaze lingers on me for a moment. She holds up a finger before pulling out her laptop. She types,

“I have some voice recognition software. I haven't tried it, but it might help right now!”

I'm tempted to tell her I was happy not being a part of things and she shouldn't waste her time. But before I can she opens up a program.

It mostly looks like a blank word document, but then Ms. Mikado says something, and words appear on the screen about a second later.

“Test, test, test.”

She pats me on the shoulder and goes back to talking with my mom.

“Dish it work?”

 

“I think sew.”

Well, it's better than nothing, I guess. I'd rather be staring into space and eating, though.

I look over at my mom and the smiling Ms. Mikado, who gives me a questioning thumbs up. I respond with an affirmative one.

Ugh, it was nice of her to set this up. A normal person would have felt left out. I'm just…not normal. But that's not her fault, I guess. She is trying to help.

“Thank you. I can um…follow along a little better now.”

My mom says something so I look at the screen,

“That's grape! May bee we should git that pro gram two."

I chuckle, “Yeah, maybe.”

…

We're back in the living room after lunch. It's time for an hour of lip reading.

Ms. Mikado types,

“Today, we're just going to talk about the basics of lip reading.”

She looks at my mom and continues to type,

“And, how you can speak so that you can make it easier on Reina.”

My mom nods with a smile.

So, just the theory today. I suppose that makes sense. I was a little worried that my mom would be wasting time for this, since she doesn't actually need to know how to lip read. She's only learning sign language to communicate with me, and she can understand speech. So she doesn't need to read lips.

But I also really, really, really, really don't want to be alone with Ms. Mikado, so I didn't say anything.

Now I don't feel bad about that. 

Ms. Mikado opens up another slide show that says,

“Reading Lips in Japanese “

The first slide says, “Lipreading is less useful in Japanese than in most languages. :(“

Leave it to her to use an emoticon.

“Wh-why is that?”

Ms. Mikado gives me a wink and moves to the next slide.

“We use very few consonants that use the lips.”

She points at her own lips, which makes me extra embarrassed so I look away. But then I hear a loud popping sound. Almost like someone was using a fly swatter. I look back up at her, and realize that she must have snapped her fingers.

How does anyone snap that loudly?

She points at her lips again. My instinct is once again to look away, but clearly she wants me to watch. So I grit my teeth and look at her very soft-looking, full lips.

Then she says, “Bzbzbzbzbzbjzbzb bzbzbzbzbzbjzbzbz bzbzbzbzbzj.”

Even though I have no idea what she said, I'm very surprised that she spoke as long as she did and her lips only moved maybe two times. I can already see what she means.

 “Wh-what did you say?”

She walks back over to the computer and types,

“It has been very nice to meet you, Reina. I can tell you will be a good student. :)”  (Kyo wa aete yokatta Reina-san. Kitto ii seito ni naru desho.)

She winks at me when she finishes typing.

You used an emoticon AND you winked!? Just like…pick one.

I ignore her wink and move my own lips to the words she typed.

'Wa' is the only word that really use the lips in two sentences using lots of common words. 

My discouragement must show on my face.

Ms. Mikado waves her hands and gives me an encouraging smile before moving on to the next slide.

“On the bright side, we only have four consonant sounds to learn to recognize! :)”

Well. I guess that's true. But how useful can this really be?

After that, Ms. Mikado spends the first lesson telling my mom what she can do to make things easier for me. Like speaking slowly, moving her lips when signing, making sure she is in good lighting, and avoiding growing any facial hair (the two of them shared a laugh about that last one while I was rolling my eyes).

…

I breathe a sigh of relief as I hear the door close. Ms. Mikado just left and I'm utterly exhausted. My mom and I just sat down around the table and I'm eating an extra pork cutlet she set aside for me as a snack.

It tastes way too good for me to feel too embarrassed that my mom makes my lunches and snacks even though I am well into adulthood. And no, this isn't just something she is doing because I got hurt. It's the norm. I've never learned how to cook myself. My mom is always throwing delicious food my way, so there isn't much motivation.

My mom writes on the notepad she now always carries around, and holds it up to me.

So, what did you think?

I sigh, “She's alright. Super annoying though. It's going to be tough being around her so much.”

Of course, half the reason is because she's so freaking pretty I have a hard time looking at her.

But my mom doesn't need to know that.

My mom knows I'm gay, mind you. Ever since middle school. And she's very supportive.

But that doesn't make it any less embarrassing to tell her about this little crush of mine.

My mom clicks her tongue, frowns at me and shakes her head and starts writing.

She didn't used to click her tongue so much. I think she's adapted a new way to express frustration with me now that I can't understand her words. It's…kind of sweet, in an annoying way.

I sigh, “You don't have to write anything. I heard your tongue click. I know you're mad I'm being so negative about her and want to scold me for being a jerk at the start.”

My mom looks back up at me and nods.

I sigh and close my eyes while I massage my temples. I have a headache. I pretty much always have one ever since I woke up in the hospital, although it's usually very minor. Just kind of an annoyance in the background. But I probably over did things a little bit today. It was certainly the hardest I have worked since I got hurt.

I open my eyes and see my mom studying me with concern.

“I should…probably lay down.”

She nods, still looking a little annoyed with me, although it has softened.

“Don't worry…I'll give her a fair shake. She is annoying. I wish she'd just…chill out, instead of being all bouncy and happy all the time. It makes me feel uncomfortable. But…I will say, she also really seems to know what she's doing.”

My mom nods and gives me a soft smile, before I head up to my room for a nap. When I get there, Haru meows and pokes her head out from under my bed.

She's a small calico that is mostly white, but she has lots of little splashes of black and orange that almost make it look like someone spilled paint on her. Only her tail is solidly black and orange. She's a very vocal, needy little thing who doesn't like strangers.

I wonder sometimes whether my social anxiety rubbed off on her, or if she'd be like this anyway. It definitely makes me feel some kinship with her, either way.

I laugh and say, “Come on,” before getting in my bed and wrapping myself with my blanket.

As expected, I hear a meow as Haru jumps on the bed. I extend my arm to let her under the covers, and she sidles up next to me and starts purring.

If I purred, I'd probably be purring too.

This is my happy place. It feels good to be here after such a long, challenging day.

But I have to do all of that again tomorrow. And almost every day after that. God help me.

Chapter Text

It's been about two weeks since my sign language lessons started. Things are going pretty well. Ms. Mikado is annoying and wears a stupid forced smile all the time, but it turns out she’s also a very good teacher. Plus, my mom and I work hard even outside of class to pick things up as quickly as we can. At this point we can very slowly fingerspell using the kana, and we know several common phrases and words. So, my mom uses her notebook only for more complicated stuff.

It's breakfast. I'm just waking up as I eat some grilled salmon, rice, and miso soup my mom made. Well, I'm mostly eating the salmon.  I haven’t had any of the rice and my miso soup sits untouched apart from a single spoonful that I ate when my mom made me.

Why would I waste time on those things when there's salmon? It's got such a fresh, smokey taste. Perfect for the morning.

It has me in a pretty good mood. But then, my mom holds out her notepad to me with a message on it. I groggily read it and the panic I start to feel suddenly makes me feel more awake.

I think I'll go to work after lunch from now on. It doesn't seem I need to be there for lip reading anymore.

I must have made a face, because my mom frowns and signs one of the handful of common phrases we have learned alongside the kana. It doesn't fit perfectly, but I know what she means.

<How are you?>

I reply, <I'm okay.> Then I consider fingerspelling the rest, before realizing I’m not awake enough for that yet. Plus my mom can understand speech, so it’s hard to be motivated to work that hard. So I say, “You know I'm just…socially challenged. But…I think I'm old enough to be okay without my mommy.”

I am definitely way more reliant on my mom than someone my age should be. It's probably healthy (albeit frightening) for me to be on my own today.

My mom laughs and then signs, <Good,> before slowly but methodically spelling things out with the kana, <It…can…be…a…test.>

Apparently it’s not too early for HER. I guess I should step it up with the fingerspelling too.

…

After a morning of sign language lessons and yet another delicious lunch prepared by my mother, it’s time for my lipreading lesson. My mom just left, as planned. She asked me twice whether I was sure it was okay. I was tempted to ask her to stay the second time she asked me, but I was a big girl and told her she could go.

I feel alone and scared but…I'm keeping it under control. I'm not good with strangers, but I'm kind of used to Ms. Mikado at this point. It'll be fine.

I can do this.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath and then I get ready to stand up and head to the living room. But I'm surprised to see Ms. Mikado getting something out of her briefcase while still seated at the table. 

It's her white board. She starts writing on it and then turns it towards me when she's finished.

Okay, since it's just the two of us today, why don't we stay here? We'll just work on getting you to recognize the four consonants and you can see my lips up close!

Shit. Shit. SHIT! 

I spent a lot of time visualizing being alone with her to make me less anxious for this. But I was just picturing things going on as normal, just without my mom sitting next to me. This is very, very different.

But I can't really object. Up close and in person will probably help. Mostly we've looked at images and watched videos so far. Lots of still photos or short animations showing what each of the consonants looks like on people’s lips. But seeing someone right in front of me move their lips in real time as they would in a normal conversation is probably better.

Even though my heart is in my throat as a result of this unforeseen situation I manage to squeeze out a squeaky, “O-okay.”

Ms. Mikado smiles, and then she pulls up the slideshow on her computer that she’s shown me before, for each of the four regularly used consonants that use both lips in Japanese. We move through each of them as a review, and I do a good job identifying them when they are on the computer screen. Then she sets the laptop aside, before signing, <Ready?>

I nod, and then she moves to the chair next to me and turns it sideways so she’s facing me before taking a seat. I move my seat so I'm more squarely facing her too.

 She signs again, <Ready?>

I nod again, feeling even more anxious than I already did because she’s so close to me now. My heart is thumping hard. Maybe a small part of that is because I think Ms. Mikado is so pretty, but I mostly feel scared. I don’t normally let anyone but my mom get this close to me. If she were here I could probably look at her, and she would give me an encouraging smile and I’d be okay. But she’s not here and I’m not okay. My brain is telling me to give up on this lesson and run away.

As I’m doing everything I can to hide how overwhelmed and worried I am about the situation, Ms. Mikado says, “Bz.”

Then she signs a phrase that we learned just for lipreading lessons - <What consonant was that?>

I was looking at her lips. And I saw them move. But my head feels so…swirly and full of fog that I can’t even remember the four consonants I have to choose from. Or what they look like.

She repeats herself saying, “Bz,” and signing, <What consonant was that?> all over again.

The same thing happens. I feel completely overwhelmed. Like I’m experiencing some kind of sensory overload that keeps me from being capable of doing anything.

“U-um….I….”

I can't do this. Not alone. I need my mom or I can't even keep my mind clear enough to process things. Plus it doesn't help that I'm supposed to focus on her freaking lips. I’m sure that’s partly why I’m freaking out.  Why does it have to be lips? Why can't looking at a less sensual part of her help me understand what she's saying? Like…her elbow. Why don’t we talk with our elbows?

She narrows her eyes and signs, <Are you okay?>

I weigh how to answer for a moment, but while I do she looks at me with concern and grabs her laptop before typing,

You're very pale and shaky. We can take a break.

I guess I didn’t even hide how anxious I am. I thought I was at least pulling that off, even if I can’t read lips right now. But I’m 0 for 2.

Feeling ashamed, I look away from her and nod.  Then she signs, <Can I help? Want a drink?>

I shake my head and then she studies me for a moment before typing,

Are you having a hard time without-,

She stops typing and signs <Your mom?>

I clench my eyes shut and grit my teeth to keep from getting more upset. It doesn't work. I start to feel tight in my chest as my panic grows.

God. She sees right through me. So embarrassing. I guess she can tell I'm a socially awkward shut-in. Pretty freaking pathetic, isn't it? I bet she’s never taught an adult who fell to absolute pieces just because their mommy left. I’m such a fucking loser. 

I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.

I hear her start to type again, but I don't dare open my eyes. I don't want to see what she thinks of me.

But then I feel her gently put her hand on mine. It surprises me, and I jerk my hand away. But I realize she is trying to comfort me and get my attention. I count to three and open my eyes.

The first thing I see is her smile. And for the first time, I'm happy to see it. I thought for sure I'd see some cracks in her stupid smiley mask as she silently judged me for being such a loser. Or at best, some pity, with her looking down on the poor girl in front of her. But her smile is still there, and if anything it feels even more genuine than it usually does. I find it hard not to smile back and little. She points at her screen,

Don't worry! You've really thrown yourself into learning even though what you're going through is super duper hard! It's crazy impressive! :)

I find myself a little moved by what she typed. Even with the overuse of exclamation points and an asinine emoticon at the end.

She's right. It IS hard. I've been so focused on learning I don't think I've really acknowledged that to myself in a while. It really hasn't been that long since I got hit by a freaking car. I was in a damn coma. I have brain damage. 

And here I am working my ass off to learn a new freaking language just so I can live a normal life. Throw in my social anxiety and depression and… it's kind of amazing this is my first break down.

I manage to gather myself enough to sign the first part of my response. <Thank you for saying that.> Then I speak the rest while I look down at the floor, “Still a little embarrassing that my mom not being here makes it s-so much…harder.”

She replies, <We all need our mom sometimes.> And then types,

Especially one as cool as yours!

I laugh, “Y-yeah. She is cool, huh?”

She nods energetically,

Anyway, if you aren't in the right headspace for learning today, we won't do it. We haven't wasted any time so far.

Oh thank God.

“A break is a good idea.” <Thank you for coming.> “I'll do better next time.”

She smiles mischievously and signs, <It’s not time to go,> she points to the clock, which clearly says it is only 1:20, 40 minutes before our lessons usually end.

Ugh. I thought she said we would take a break.

“W-well…what should we do?”

She signs, <Talk! I love to talk.>

I laugh wryly, “You don't say.”

She grins before typing,

I just figure we can chat! And mix in sign language when it's stuff we have covered.

She stops typing and signs, <Is that okay?>

That doesn't really sound like a break…but it is more relaxed I guess. I feel more confident with sign than with lipreading. And I've calmed down anyway. Thanks to her.

<Okay.>

You've got a really good thing going here--

<Your mom is learning sign language!>

I'm a little confused by the last part of her statement, so I ask her to sign it again. But it confirms what I thought she said before.

“Haven't you seen that before?”

She types,

Not never. But it isn't common, either.

I slowly piece my sentence together as I sign, <Wouldn’t...any mom...learn to sign?>

She shakes her head and types,

You'd be surprised. My best friend in high school was born deaf and

She continues with sign, <Her family doesn't know sign language.>

I'm so stunned that I just blurt out, “That's crazy. Sounds like a crappy family.”

Ms. Mikado laughs awkwardly,  <A little bit.>

I'm about to respond with speech, but then I realize I can actually sign what I wanted to ask.

<Is that why you learned? Your...best friend?>

She shakes her head and types,

I wanted to learn before I met her. I specifically went to a school for the disabled because they had a program for sign language.

She pauses for a few seconds and furrows her brow while her fingers stroke the keyboard lightly. 

I've never seen her think so long before communicating something.

She continues with sign, <But I did want to be able to talk to her.> She smiles proudly as she types,

It gave me extra motivation. By my last year I was her interpreter! 

“That’s actually…really impressive that you improved so fast.”

She crosses her arms and gives me an offended look that would be a lot more effective if she wasn’t also smiling. Then she signs, <Surprised?>

Shit. Well…I kind of am. But given that she does this for a living I really shouldn’t be. Obviously she's good at sign language.

She lets me feel guilty and weigh how to respond for a moment before letting out a loud, “Wahahaha~” and then typing,

I probably wouldn’t have gotten good so fast on my own,

She switches to sign, <But I had a good teacher.>

She goes back to typing,

And I had a very good tutor my first two years! An upperclassman. Someone whose native language was sign who helped out with the class. I did lots of extra lessons with her.

As I process what she said, I find myself marveling at her ability to rapidly switch between typing and sign, while somehow remembering what is part of my vocabulary and what isn't. She didn't sign anything I wasn't able to understand, despite the fact that there are so many things I still don't know.

Just as I'm about to tell her as much, and that her old teacher and tutor would be proud of her, she signs, <Okay. Time is up!”>

I surprise myself when I feel a little disappointment that we're done talking.

…

I’m sitting at the dining table and reviewing everything we went over today. I just heard the front door open, so I look up and see my mom who gives me a wave and signs, <How are you?>

<Good. Studying.>

She nods and gives me a smile, before slowly but surely signing, <How was class?>

I sigh and slowly fingerspell, <I…freaked…out.>

My mom frowns and sits down next to me. She gives my shoulder a squeeze and grabs her notebook off the table and writes,

I can stay if it helps you. One hour at work won’t make a big difference.

I take a deep breath and sign, <Thank you,> before continuing with speech, “But I think I’ll be okay. She was…way more understanding than I expected. So…I’m less anxious about freaking out in front of her now, at least.”

My mom smiles and starts to write. I expect her to be finished pretty quickly. She usually is. But it takes a while, so I go back to studying until she hands me her notebook.

It doesn’t surprise me she was good with it. She’s a very sweet person, you know. It isn’t an act, like you seem to think. She isn't ‘making’ herself smile. She loves what she does and cares about her students. And I’m sure you’re not her first student to get upset. She teaches people in challenging situations for a living, you know? She couldn’t do that if she weren’t the caring person that she is.

I sigh as I read her message, realizing that my mom is right that I've been unfair about Ms. Mikado. My first impression about her was wrong, at least in part.

“You’re right. I finally saw all that today.” I smile mischievously at my mom, “It doesn’t make her less annoying, though.”

My mom clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes at me in exasperation. It was the reaction I wanted so I laugh.

“But…it does make me feel more comfortable around her. Knowing that she is so understanding…a-and stuff. So I will be okay on my own with her for an hour each day.”

…

It's close to midnight. Haru and I are lying in bed. Her warm, purring little body is pretty soothing. Despite feeling comfortable and sleepy, I'm staring up at the ceiling fan. My head is swimming with thoughts, but in a good way. I don't feel anxious or scared. But I'm still feeling emotions so intensely that I can't sleep. But they are positive emotions.

Today was such a good day. Which sounds crazy because I had a panic attack. But Ms. Mikado was so cool about it that I feel less stressed than ever about my lessons with her. 

She might be super annoying and all…unnecessarily bubbly all the time, but I think I saw the benefit of that today. Her positive energy and smiles are…kind of infectious. They were what I really needed today when all I had was negative feelings about myself.

It means so much to me that she didn't look down at me at all for being a complete mess without my mom. She even helped me put things in perspective and made me feel better about myself.

No one but my own mother has ever been as accepting of what a mess I am between the ears. 

She even gave me a break when I needed it. And even though I was annoyed she didn't just leave, I realize now that she used all that time to encourage me and make me more comfortable. I think if she just let me escape, I would have so much anxiety about our lesson tomorrow. But since we talked things over, I'm not anxious at all.

She even shared some stuff about herself that definitely made me feel better. And it was nice learning a little more about her, too. 

Beneath the loud laughter, annoying winks, and cutesy matching accessories, she really is a good person. And a good teacher too. I thought she was going to be a really bad fit for me, but it turns out she might be the perfect person for me to learn from.

Chapter Text

It’s been about four weeks since the start of Ms. Mikado’s lessons, and things continue to progress for both me and my mom. Every day we can communicate a little more effectively, and I’m really happy about that. Losing the ability to understand her has been the hardest thing about all of this, and I’m thankful that Ms. Mikado’s lessons have made that less of a problem.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table, going over everything from class today. 

At this point it's part of my routine. Typically, after Ms. Mikado leaves, I eat a snack and then go upstairs and take a nap for an hour, before coming back down to the kitchen and reviewing the day's lessons until my mom gets home. Once my mom gets home, we have dinner, and then study together for about an hour before bath time.

Just as I’m thinking about this routine which I have found I really like, I hear the front door open, signaling that my mom is home from work for the evening. When she arrives in the kitchen with a smile, I sign, <Welcome home.>

<Thank you. What do you want for dinner?>

<Do we have hamburg steaks?>

My mom rolls her eyes, <Yes. But you have to eat some vegetables too.>

<I will!>

I think she's been letting me eat what I want because I got hit by a car and stuff. But that leeway seems to have run out. Dammit.

With a look that says, ‘sure you will,’ my mom starts making dinner, while I return to studying. Today we went over the words for all kinds of professions. I finally know how to sign ‘writer’ without fingerspelling, which is pretty nice.

After 20 minutes or so I hear a chime notifying me that I've got a new email.

When I open my email I'm surprised to see that I have an email from [email protected] titled,

Re: Your Upcoming Yuri Literary Anthology.

I blink several times, as if what I'm seeing is an illusion.

I totally forgot I ever sent the email they are responding to. I sent it the day I got hurt and I only sort of remember a bunch of that day. But seeing this email jogs my memory. 

I was on campus that day meeting with my adviser, Professor Yoshitaka. She told me that since I'm graduating soon, I should look for upcoming literary anthologies and magazines that I would like to write for, and send them emails with my CV and a cover letter. I sent several out before I left campus and rode my bike home, and that’s when I got hurt.  

My palms start to sweat as I consider what this email might say.

It's been a long time. Almost two months. Surely they wouldn't respond now only to reject me. Right?

Of course the fact I haven’t heard back at all from all of the others probably doesn’t bode well. Maybe they are just being more courteous than the rest, who ignored me.

Only one way to find out.

I take a deep breath and open the email. 

Dear Ms. Kato,

 

Congratulations on your awards and your imminent graduation. We are very impressed with your writing! We would love to hear your pitch for a 20,000-word story that would appear in the anthology, which will be published next year. It will be focused on period romance, so you seem like a perfect fit. Send us a pitch within the next couple of months, and we'll move on from there.

 

We look forward to hearing from you.

As I read the email, I feel myself smile.

My mom comes over and taps me on the shoulder, <Why so happy?>

I turn my laptop towards her and show her the email. As she reads it a smile grows on her face and then she hugs me and says, “Bzbzbz!”

I can't understand what she said, but I know she's happy for me. Sometimes words don't matter. 

There's only one problem…

“I don't have any ideas, mom. I haven't written a word since I got hurt. I'm worried more of my brain got hurt than we thought. The creative part.”

My mom breaks the hug with a frown and asks me to pass over the laptop. I don't know why at first, and then she opens up Word and starts to type slowly, with one finger, while she looks down at the keys.

Is she trying to be like Ms. Mikado? That woman can type really fast. I imagine she talks really fast too, though I can't really verify that.

I laugh, “Mom, you're terrible at typing. Just write it. It would be faster. Heck, fingerspelling might be faster.”

She waves a hand at me dismissively and keeps typing. If we can call it that. I cross my arms and wait patiently as she hunts-and-pecks each individual key. Then she finally shows me her message.

You'll think of something, sweetie. For now, just enjoy the recognition. You're a very gifted writer. This is even more proof of that. They want you to write for them! This is amazing!

I smile at my mom's message, <You're right. Thank you.>

My mom nods and then takes the laptop back and starts hunt-and-pecking again.

I scoff, “If you're going to insist on this, we need to get you some typing lessons on top of the sign language. Maybe Ms. Mikado can come an hour earlier.”

She glares playfully at me as she continues composing her message at a snail’s pace. Eventually, she reveals it to me.

And it's even yuri, so you'll really get to express yourself. No more only having the women in your stories just be really close friends!

I feel a little emotional when I read her message. It almost makes waiting so long for her to type it worth it.

She's right. My short stories so far have all been period dramas about intense friendships between women. I always stop short of making them openly romantic, because I've been writing for various university competitions and publications that would frown upon it at best. I also didn't love the idea of using my real name and screaming ‘I'M A LESBIAN!’ at the entire world.

Other gay people would understand the subtext in the stories I've written so far, but most people don't pick up on it. This time, I'm writing for an audience that expects there to be romance for women.  That's really exciting.

Now I just need to think of a story. Let's hope it turns out that part of my brain made it through my accident unscathed.

…

Once again, I'm in bed with Haru and I can't sleep. But for good reasons.

I think I feel…giddy. It's not an emotion I know very well, so I can't be sure. I tried to think of ideas for a story for a couple of hours and didn't get anywhere. Normally I would let that weigh me down, but just the fact a major publisher is asking me to pitch a story idea is just…amazing.

It's all I've ever wanted - to write stories about women falling in love with one another. Even if I don't think it's something I'll ever get to experience myself. 

I mean, I've been in love with a girl before. But I don't think one will ever love me back. I accepted that a long time ago. But I can live vicariously through my characters. I'm happy to, even.

All that matters is that I get to write some lesbian romance. And get paid for it! Not a lot, but getting paid at all makes me a professional right?

I'm a professional writer!

At least, I will be as long as I can come up with a pitch and they like it. I have time. I'll think of something.

<Ms. Mikado is bringing lunch today. Be nice.>

It's breakfast, and while I'm trying to enjoy my current meal my mom hits me with some news about our next meal that has me very worried. I'm a creature of habit. I have eaten a lunch my mom made me almost every single day of my life. And she's such a good cook. 

Who knows what that silly woman will bring? Can she even cook? She doesn't exactly seem the type.

Of course, I've never even TRIED to cook. But that's not the point…

I shake my head to throw away my childish feelings, <I'm not a kid.>

My mom smiles wryly, <You eat like one.>

Hard to argue with that…

<I won't be one today.>

<Good. She feels->, she pauses and slowly fingerspells a word we haven't learned the sign for yet, <...guilty…always eating our food. It's nice of her to bring lunch.>

Fed up with signing for the moment, I say, “How do you know she's bringing lunch anyway? She didn't say she would yesterday.”

My mom holds up her phone and shows me the text conversation with Ms. Mikado. It makes me feel a little jealous. Of both of them. I didn't know they were talking outside of our class. 

I bet my mom wishes she had a daughter more like her.

…

It's time for lunch. We learned a lot of food  and other meal-related terms for our lesson, so I think she is somehow making lunch a learning experience today. I'm not sure how I feel about that. It doesn't sound very relaxing.

Right now Ms. Mikado is reheating the food she brought. My mom is looking at me pointedly. She doesn't need sign language to say ‘Do you remember what we talked about earlier?’ She's doing it with her eyes.

But it makes me want to be even more defiant. It bugs me that these two are talking outside of class and didn't even invite me into the group text. They probably talk about me and how difficult I always am. My mom is always on Ms. Mikado's side about things too. It’s getting old.

Ms. Mikado comes over to the table and serves each of us rice before placing a large plate in the middle of the table. I don't recognize the dish at all. The good news is, it looks like little thumb-sized rolls of meat. The bad news is, at the center of those rolls is something green and leafy that looks suspiciously like a vegetable.

<What is it?>

With a proud smile, Ms. Mikado signs one of the words we learned today, <Negimaki.>

I was embarrassed that I didn't know what it was when we learned and was going to ask my mom later, so I didn't say anything.

I reply, <What's in it?>

She replies with two more words we learned today, <Beef and scallions.>

You had to go and ruin some perfectly good beef, didn't you?

My mom gives me another pointed look, and it's the last straw for me. Knowing she thinks I'm such a child only makes me want to be more of one. If I don’t like this, I shouldn't have to pretend. And shoot, I can use some of what we learned today to communicate my feelings. Isn't that the point?

< I don’t like scallions. Thank you, though. I'll eat something else.>

Ms. Mikado grimaces and her smile almost disappears. It's still there. Faintly. But it's the smallest I've ever seen. And it's because of me.

I immediately regret being so defiant.

When I get up the nerve and turn to look at my mom, she looks furious. Her eyebrows are knit and her jaw is clenched. She crosses her arms and says something. Her buzzing sounds more aggressive than usual.

I look at the screen on Ms. Mikado’s computer, which is always set up with voice recognition software at lunchtime so I can sort of stay in the loop if they are using speech. It says, 

Win was the last thyme you tied them?

Even with the garbled translation, I know what my mom is trying to say. And she’s right.

I look down at the table, ashamed for being the child my mom told me not to be. And for clearly hurting Ms. Mikado's feelings when she didn't do anything wrong.

I make eye contact with Ms. Mikado, something very hard for me normally, and doubly so because she's so freaking pretty. But, I owe her this for being so childish all the time.

“I-it's been a long time since I tried scallions. I don't actually know if I like them. But I'm going to try them now. A-and…I can eat around them even if I don’t! The meat looks delicious. I…should have just said…thank you for making us lunch today.”

Ms. Mikado's smile rebounds, making me feel relieved. But there is definitely some worry in her eyes. She quickly plates me some of the food and thrusts it in front of me. She gets my mom a plate too. I look down at the meat-wrapped scallions on my plate and try to psych myself up. But then I feel eyes burning into me.

I look up and see Ms. Mikado watching me closely with a furrowed brow and her hands anxiously folded together.

Well…no getting around really trying this now. Apparently she's going to watch. 

I pick up one of the negimaki with my chopsticks. I hesitate a little, and then put the whole thing into my mouth, hoping I can just taste the meat and swallow without the scallion ever touching my tongue.

I start to chew.

Oh. My. God.

This might be the best meat I've ever tasted.

The meat is in lots of little strips and it’s really well-cooked and tender with a perfect teriyaki glaze. 

And…there's this subtle peppery, herby taste too that goes so well with the meat. Is that in the sauce?

As I continue to chew, I feel the crunchiness of the scallions. As the peppery taste intensifies, I realize that's where that subtle taste I'm enjoying so much is coming from. I start to feel even more embarrassed for my behavior earlier.

Well…guess my mom was right. I wonder if there is any other food that I haven't tried since childhood that I would like now.

When I open my eyes, I see Ms. Mikado still looking on anxiously. She looks a little more confident, probably because she could tell I was savoring it. 

But she still looks worried when she signs, <Do you like it?>

<I do. I really really do. Even the scallions.> I put another meat-rolled scallion in my mouth for emphasis.

Ms. Mikado's face lights up and it gives me a twinge in my chest. I guess the upside of making her smile go so dim is that I get to see it return to its normal, bright configuration. 

After that, lunch is less tense. My mom and Ms. Mikado discuss the dish, which is apparently Japanese-American. Ms. Mikado has a Japanese-American friend who gave her the recipe.

I have a hard time really focusing on the conversation though. Partly because the food is so good. But mostly because all I can think about is how nice it was to make Ms. Mikado really smile. 

Now we’ve finished cleaning up after the meal, and we’re having a bit of tea before my mom leaves and Ms. Mikado and I begin our lip reading lesson for the day.

Suddenly, an unexpected visitor arrives. With a chirp-like meow, Haru jumps on the table and inquisitively walks towards Ms. Mikado, before stopping a good distance away from her. 

We’ve told Ms. Mikado about Haru, and in the past she’s been disappointed that she hasn’t gotten to see her. Now that Haru is making an appearance, I can see in her golden eyes that she wants nothing more than to pick up the cute little calico and squeeze it to her ample chest. But she restrains herself and looks to me as if asking what she should do.

I sign, <Be calm. She will come to you.>

Ms. Mikado hesitantly reaches out her hand a few centimeters away from Haru. She examines her hand, and I feel like I can see the gears turning in her head. Then she steps forward a few steps, and rubs the top of her head on Ms. Mikado’s hand. Then, she lets Ms. Mikado pet her a few times, before running off.

Ms. Mikado beams with pride. It's pretty cute that she's that happy about Haru's apparent acceptance of her.

I guess I’m not the only one warming up to her.

Chapter Text

There are two more months left in our intensive course with Ms. Mikado. And she just made a bombshell announcement.

<Starting today we only use sign language. No typing. No speaking. No writing.>

Ugh. 

<Why?>

<It’s better to learn all in sign and you two have the vocabulary now to do it.>

That doesn’t make any sense to me. We know a lot, sure – but gaps have to be filled in somehow. But whatever. We'll see how it goes.

As class begins, we start with some basic conversation.

Ms. Mikado signs, <What did you do last night?>

<I studied. And watched television with my mom. And I ate dinner. And I read->

“How do I sign-”

Ms. Mikado narrows her eyes and puffs out her cheeks while she signs aggressively, <Stop! Sign language only!>

I sigh in frustration and ask my question by fingerspelling the word ‘manga.’ Ms. Mikado's cheeks unpuff and she shows me how to sign the word.

…

Later in the class, we start learning terms relating to travel. After we have practiced them a bit, Ms. Mikado asks me, <What's the best vacation  you ever had?>

It's not that hard of a question. We haven't been on that many.

<We Went to Nagano. We stayed-> 

“How do I sign ‘in a cabin’?”

Her cheeks puff out again and she puts her hands on her hips before signing, <Reina! Sign only!>

I roll my eyes at her and cross my arms, “There’s too much we don’t know for that. How am I supposed to put sentences together when I’m missing half the words I want to use. We barely know half the particles!”

My mom clicks her tongue at me and shakes her head like I'm the most disappointing daughter in the world.

She's such a freaking teacher's pet. 

Any time the two of them gang up on me it just makes me want to be a complete asshole to both of them. But…I hurt Ms. Mikado’s feelings last time I gave into that urge. Plus her puffed out cheeks are way too cute for me to stay mad. 

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and calm myself down.

<Sorry. It’s just hard for me. I'll do better.>

She smirks at me, <You're such a writer.>

I narrow my eyes at her, <What do you mean?>

<You're just so worried about grammar and vocabulary!>

I roll my eyes at her, <How stupid of I. Me forget we not need those.>

She gives me a smile that is equal parts bemused and exasperated, <Reina, I get that you want to be perfect. But you aren’t writing. You have the words to say what you need to.> She gives me a big smile before signing, <I Promise!>

<Sure. A few hundred words is plenty for me to never speak again.>

Ms. Mikado lets out a frustrated sigh and furrows her brow for a moment. Then she signs, <Tomorrow, you and I are going on a…> She pauses and finger spells <...field…trip…>.

I start to feel dizzy at the thought of heading out into the world and leaving the protective cocoon that is my home. I hope I misunderstood.

<Field…trip?>

Ms. Mikado nods, <Yes. There is someone I want you to talk to.>

<Another student?>

<Kind of.>

I start to feel very stressed and anxious, so I abandon signing and blurt out, “I-I don't want to go anywhere!”

Ms. Mikado looks at me with concern and thankfully doesn't berate me for speaking this time. 

My mom steps in and deftly signs, <Ms. Mikado, can the field trip be to my cafe?>

I feel some of my anxiety dissipate at this suggestion. If there is somewhere I have to go, at least it's a place I'm familiar with.

Ms. Mikado studies me for a moment and then looks back at my mom with a smile, <Yes. Let's go there.>

…

When my mom gets home later that evening and finds me studying at the dining table, she immediately thrusts a lengthy note at me with a gruff expression on her face.

I know you and Ms. Mikado clash sometimes, but you need to show her respect. You didn't listen to her rules today and you were very rude to her. She would never tell you this, but I know that it hurt her feelings. I don't want to see that from you again.

 

I slam her stupid note on the table, “I swear , you like her more than you like me. You two are always ganging up on me and talking behind my back. It’s like middle school all over again. I’m even getting bullied by the pretty popular girls. It's getting really freaking old.”

In a huff, I go back to looking at my computer. But I notice my mom hasn't moved from where she was standing. I sigh and look at her, expecting her to be seething, but that's not what I see at all.

Her lip is trembling and she's wringing her hands together while looking at them. I can tell she's on the verge of tears.

That's when I realize what I just said.

Aw, shit. I went way over the line.

I stand up and hug her, “I don't really feel that way. You're not like those girls at all. Neither of you. I shouldn’t have said that. I'm sorry.”

My mom pulls back and sniffles while she signs, <But are you mad at us?>

I shrug, “Not really. I deserve to be scolded every time it happens. I'm a brat.”

I expect my mom to laugh, but she is still looking at me with seriousness in her eyes. <Are you sure there's nothing else?>

I sigh, embarrassed at the feelings I’m about to express,  “I guess…I’m…a little jealous of both of you. It feels like…you both like one another more than you like me. And I'm just like…this annoying little girl you have to put up with.”

My mom looks shocked, <Why would you say that?>

<You two text all the time,> “I feel left out…I guess.”

My mom smiles, <We thought you'd hate it. We talk about silly things.>

I shrug, <Maybe I WILL hate it,> "--but let me decide."

My mom nods, <I'm sorry. We should have invited you.>

…

Once again, I’m staring up at the ceiling because I can’t sleep. The last couple of times this happened it was because I was so happy. But not this time. I’m very anxious about the field trip tomorrow.

I got added to the text conversation with my mom and Ms. Mikado tonight. And they were both chatting about the field trip. And a lot of it IS pretty dumb - like Ms. Mikado basically going through the entire menu and exclaiming, ‘Ooo, this sounds good!’ about every item on it.

But it is nice to be included. Even when she's annoying. 

But it also made it harder for me to keep my mind off of having to leave the house tomorrow. 

I'm glad that at least Ms. Mikado's field trip isn't somewhere completely alien to me. But I'm still very anxious. I haven't left my home since returning from the hospital, and I've gotten very comfortable. I've kind of reverted to who I was before university. At best, I was one step above hikikomori. I know it's not good for me. But at the same time it's comfortable.

I'm already bad with other people when I'm at my best. My disability is going to make it even worse.

But…I'm going to have to leave my house at some point. And if I keep just staying home, it's only going to get harder to go out. So, I need to do this. I have a feeling Ms. Mikado knows I need to do this for mental health reasons. She knows what a mess I am.

I sigh.

The cafe is somewhere I'm familiar with, and going there means that my mom will be close by. But it's not exactly my favorite place in the world. 

Some cafes are sleepy little places where you can go and relax while enjoying a snack. But that's not true of this cafe. It's super popular and always pretty crowded with loud people.

My mom started working there about 15 years ago. It was not doing well at the time. In fact, she was hired out of desperation, because the owner didn't know what to do because his kissaten that had been there for years was suddenly failing. So my mom's job was mostly to stand outside in a cute uniform and flirt to get peoples’ attention. I didn't really get that at the time even though I went to work with her a lot. I was 7, so I just thought her uniform was cute. It makes me a little bit mad, now, that she was being used like that.

But even my mom's good looks and charisma couldn’t save the place. So the owner asked if she had any other ideas. He must really have been desperate, since he was a very traditional older man and he was asking for help from an uneducated single mother in her 20s who had no experience doing anything but waitressing. 

But it turned out my mom did have an idea. A good one. She pointed out that this part of the city was becoming younger. A new Tohoku University campus opened nearby, and so did a train station. The train station shopping area was frequented mostly by university students, and they were moving into the neighborhood more and more. 

So, she suggested moving away from a more traditional kissaten toward a very modern coffee shop with a massive drink menu and all kinds of offerings that would appeal to younger clientele - like sugary frappuccinos and caffeine-infused espressos. Basically, she suggested modeling the place after western coffee chains, but without the sterile, corporate feel those places have. She even suggested they rename the place “University Cafe.” 

With nothing left to lose, the owner followed her suggestions, and the place became popular almost over night. And it's been a favorite of young people in Sendai ever since. The owner was so happy that he made her co-owner a year later. I don't quite want to say it was rags to riches for us. We weren't quite in rags, and we certainly aren't rich. But things were pretty bad. And they are much better now.

It's really amazing that she accomplished so much. If it wasn't for that, we wouldn't have our nice apartment and I wouldn't be going to university. We probably wouldn't even be able to afford Ms. Mikado or medical care, and I would be pretty much screwed.

But as proud as I am of her success and as happy I am that she provides for us so well…deep down I wish it was a little less successful so it wasn’t always so freaking busy. It's simply not a relaxing place for me.

But she’ll be there when we go on our ‘field trip.’ And that makes me feel a bit better. I hate to admit it, but I think Ms. Mikado being there will help me too.

When we enter the cafe, it's as busy as I feared. There is one open table among the three dozen, and lots of people waiting in line too.

Ms. Mikado looks around, and sees the waving hand of another woman. She excitedly waves back and gestures for me to follow her.

But I find myself utterly overtaken by the buzzing sound all around me. It’s like I'm surrounded by a swarm of angry bees. I start to hyperventilate, so I close my eyes and put my hand on my chest to try to steady my breathing. But it's not working well. My heart is pounding in my ears.

Why are we even doing this? Just so she can meet some friends? Can't she be a social butterfly on her own time, and not put me in a panic attack-inducing situation? She probably isn't even aware that this is happening to me.

Just as I'm about to turn around and leave the cafe, I feel something soft and warm on my hand. I open my eyes and see Ms. Mikado wearing a warm smile. I notice she's holding my hand. My heart starts thumping hard for an entirely different reason.

This is the first time I've held hands with anyone but my mom.

She lets go of my hand and signs, <Are you okay?>

I'm definitely still in a heightened state, but I think the panic attack danger has passed thanks to her. I can try to tough this out. 

<It’s loud. But I'm okay.>

She nods, <You look dizzy. Hold on to me and I'll get you to where you can sit.> She outstretches her hand, and I take it. My heart starts thumping again.

She leads me to a table where two women are sitting and she lets go of my hand as I sit down.

One of the women gets up and hugs Ms. Mikado. She has long dark hair, glasses, and brown eyes. She also has on some sort of hearing aid. I briefly wonder whether this is the friend from high school she was the interpreter for. As those two are sharing the hug, the other woman, who is seated across from me, smiles and waves. I awkwardly wave back.

She looks foreign, or at least half-foreign. She has shoulder length blonde hair, light-green eyes, and very fair skin.

They are both very pretty. I'm a little surprised I don't feel more nervous around them. But I'm around Ms. Mikado all the time these days and she's even prettier. It must have helped build up my tolerance for pretty girls.

Ms. Mikado says something to both of them, and they say something back. Then she taps on my shoulder and she starts signing.

<This is my student.> Then she looks at me, <These are my friends. No speaking, okay?>

At first I think she's only talking to me, but the blond woman nods too.

Then Ms. Mikado and the dark-haired woman abruptly go off and sit at another table in the cafe.

I am beyond confused about what's happening and seething a little about the fact that Ms. Mikado just abandoned me without explaining what was happening. I look behind the counter hoping to see my mom to steady myself. Luckily I see her, smiling and laughing with a male customer as she takes his order. It calms me down. 

Then, the blond woman signs one of the first things I ever learned.

<What's your name?>

I spell it out, <Reina. What's yours?>

She slowly signs each of the kana in her name, <Ma> <Do> <Ka>.

Oh. She's slower than me. She must be learning too. 

<Nice to meet you.>

She smiles, <You too.>

Then, she signs only two words, <Why?> <Sign language.>

Not how I would have signed that. She left so many words out. But I know what she means.

I think about how to say what I need. There's no way I can sign all the details about my situation, but like she just did, I can sign enough to be understood.

<Got hurt. I'm deaf now.> I point at my ear and shake my head for emphasis.

That's not exactly accurate. And being that imprecise bothers me. But I think I'm starting to get why Ms. Mikado wanted me to do this.

Madoka frowns, <Sorry.>

<Thank you. Why are you learning sign language?>

She taps her finger on her chin and thinks for a moment. She points to the tall, dark-haired woman that Ms. Mikado is talking to and then signs a word I don't recognize.

<I don’t understand.>

Now she signs two words I do know.

<Girl.> <Friend.>

I can't help but smile when I put it together.

She's gay! And open about it. That's awesome! It's nice to know Ms. Mikado has gay friends. 

Or…maybe I'm interpreting it wrong. I should be careful just in case. Not like I'm fluent in sign language.

<Oh. Is she deaf?>

She nods, <Can hear because…> She taps on her own ear, and I know what she means. She is talking about her hearing aid.

I nod, to tell her I understand.

<Her family. Only sign language.>

I find myself smiling.

Okay. She's definitely gay. 

She's learning sign language to talk to her girlfriend's family. I don't think she would do that for a friend.

<That’s cool. What's her name?>

She slowly spells it out again, one syllable at a time, <A><Ka><Ne>, then she signs <How is…M___>

I only catch the first letter of what she's trying to spell, because the word is so strange.

<Can you spell that again?>

She nods and does it again, more slowly. I tilt my head to the side, <Misha? I don't know that word.>

Madoka laughs,  <Your teacher's name.>

Oh. That's her first name? That's an unusual one. Maybe she's half foreign. She doesn't really look it, though.

<She's good.> I pause for a moment, <Lots of energy.>

Madoka smiles, <Yes. Definitely.>

<Is she your teacher too?>

<Sometimes. Akane is my teacher.>

I nod, <How long have you known Ms. Mikado?>

She chuckles. I don't know why at first, but I guess hearing your good friend called ‘Ms.’ sounds funny.

<High school. Akane too.>

So maybe Akane IS the girl she was the interpreter for.

No wait…if her family is deaf, that means Akane was actually the older girl who was her tutor. Probably. Maybe.

<Wow! That's cool.>

My mom surprises me by coming over to our table with a breakfast sandwich with prosciutto and a chai latte for me. I avoid the more caffeinated stuff because of my anxiety. I realize that she's checking in on me. It's a little embarrassing, but I probably need it.

I introduce my mom and Madoka, and my mom refills Madoka’s coffee.

After my mom leaves, Madoka signs, <This cafe.> <Your mom's?>

I nod, <She owns some of it.>

Again…super imprecise. But I don't have to be exact, as this conversation has taught me.

<We come here sometimes. We like it.>

I'm tempted to brag about my mom, but definitely don't have the vocabulary to do it justice. But again…that's probably okay.

<She works hard. I'm glad you like it.>

She nods and checks the time, <Need to go soon.>

I feel a little let down.

Then she signs, <Talk again?> She pauses for a moment as she formulates her next statement, <Nice to sign with you. Same level.>

She seems nice. And she's also gay…I don't know anyone else who is. So even though I'm not normally very social, I've really enjoyed this. So…

<Yes. I'd like that too.>

…

Madoka and Akane just left. The place has emptied out some. It's only about 75% full now. It's still a little stressful because of all the people, but I think I'm learning to tune out the buzzing. In a setting like this it kind of becomes white noise. Still, I'd much rather be at home.

Ms. Mikado has just joined me at the same table. She is smiling broadly at the drink she just ordered. It's some super sugary frappuccino, with whipped cream spilling out of the top and chocolate drizzle. If I was going to guess what drink she gets at a place like this, that would be it. She looks like a little kid who is about to eat their birthday cake.

She takes a long drink and then sighs happily before signing, <How was it?>

<Good. I know why you wanted me to talk to her. Thank you.>

She smirks, <I knew you would understand. You're super smart!> She narrows her eyes, < Too smart, sometimes. So, you'll follow the rules now?>

I nod, <I will. I can sign enough with what I know. I'm sorry.>

She shrugs and then smiles, <It’s fine. Everyone learns differently. Most students follow the rule. You just needed to be shown why because you're so smart.>

<'Smart' or ‘difficult’?>

She lets out a “Wahahaha~” and then signs <Maybe both!> with a wink. 

But then her face gets serious. Well, as serious as it ever does. Her smile is less playful as she locks eyes with me. <Good job today. I know this was hard.>

I look down at the plate that once held my breakfast sandwich, embarrassed that she saw through my neurosis again. But,I guess I shouldn't be. She doesn't look down on me for it. And she comforted me earlier when I was about to lose it. 

She even held my hand. She definitely didn't have to do that. She goes above and beyond for me.

I look back up at her, <It was. But I'm glad I did it. Thank you for helping me.>

Chapter Text

<How about another field trip?>

It's been a week since our field trip to the cafe. Ms. Mikado and I just finished lip reading for the day and she's packing up.

<Tomorrow?>

She shakes her head, <Today.>

I feel my stomach turn over. But much to my surprise, it isn't just from negative feelings.

Doing this completely spur of the moment is not ideal for me. It makes me very anxious. 

But I also kind of like the idea of doing something with Ms. Mikado because the last field trip went so well. It made me feel so much better about leaving the house and resuming my old life. So I think I also feel…excited, underneath the anxiety.

<Class is over.>

<Okay so it's-> She pauses and fingerspells, <...Extra…curricular.>

<Where do you want to go?>

She beams, <The supermarket!>

I feel myself get less excited but also less nervous about this outing.

One of the few household things I used to do was the grocery shopping. But I haven't since I got hurt. The supermarket is somewhere I know well. And not a place where I need to talk very much. And it shouldn't be very crowded at this time. 

And actually, tomorrow is…

She notices my hesitation, <Is it too much?>

<No. My mom's birthday is tomorrow. Shopping for her would be nice.>

Ms. Mikado gasps dramatically and puts her hand to her chest before signing, <She didn't tell me! Is she shy about her age?>

I laugh and shake my head, <She's doesn't tell people because she doesn't like when people do things for her.>

It's because she focuses all of her energy on doing things for me. To a fault. But that's embarrassing to say and I'm not sure how to sign it anyway.

Ms. Mikado beams and taps a finger on her chin as she looks off to the side. For a moment, I swear I can see her eyes twinkling like she's a manga character. I start to worry she's going to suggest something crazy that neither me nor my mom would be comfortable with. 

Just when I'm about to pull her back to reality she excitedly signs, <Let's have a little surprise meal for her at lunch tomorrow.>

I'm so surprised by her reasonable suggestion that I'm momentarily stunned. But Ms. Mikado must take my hesitancy as a sign that I think it's a bad idea.

Her smile droops a little, <Would she hate that?>

<No, I think it's a good idea.>

Her smile grows, <Great! This will also be good practice for lip reading. That's what I had in mind originally.> She gives me a playful wink.

I sigh, <Now I'm nervous.>

I haven't really done any lip reading other than with Ms. Mikado. It is something I need to practice if I'm going to start doing the shopping again or going to university, though.

<I'll be there if things go bad. But I bet they won't! You have practiced a lot. Time to put it to use.>

…

We're at the supermarket. As expected, it's not too crowded.

<What's your mom's favorite dish?>

I slowly fingerspell, <Filet…mignon.>

Ms. Mikado lets out a “Wahaha~,” before signing <She likes meat a lot too?>

<She likes it a lot. But she doesn't have a problem like I do.>

She puts her hand over her mouth and chuckles before signing, <What's in that?> 

I fingerspell, <Beef…tenderloin and…bacon.>

She points to the butcher counter which happens to be about 5 meters away, <Go get it.>

She must see the anxiety I'm feeling on my face, <I'll be right here if you need me. But give it your best shot, okay?> She gives me a smile and pats me on the shoulder, and it makes me feel more courageous. I take a deep breath and approach the butcher counter.

The man behind it doesn't look up from packaging ground beef when he says, “Bzbzbzbzjbzbzj.”

I feel my pulse quicken. I couldn't see his lips at all. I panic and take a look at Ms. Mikado. She calmly signs, <Repeat.>

I feel embarrassed that I didn't think of it myself, but panic will do that to you. 

“What was that, sir?”

This time he looks up at me and more slowly says, “Bzbzbzbzbzbzbj.”

Okay, I only picked up about two words - ‘What’ and 'today,’ but based on what someone would normally say here, I think he asked ‘What can I get for you today?’

I point at what I want under the glass, “C-can I have that cut of beef tenderloin and 400 grams of bacon, please?”

He nods and goes about packaging up my meat. Then he says something else while his head is down.

I do what I did before.

“What was that, sir?”

He looks at me this time and repeats himself. I missed everything except what I think was ‘mignon.’ I again use the context to fill in everything else. At least, I hope I filled it in. Lip reading is kind of a guessing game where I have to use the little evidence I have to figure out what someone might have said. And right now the evidence is especially limited. If I'm wrong, he's going to look at me like I'm crazy. But…that's just part of it.

“Y-yes we're making filet mignon.”

He smiles and gives me a thumbs up before handing me the packages of the meat. 

As I take the meat, I feel far too proud at being able to make it through that. When I turn around I see Ms. Mikado is literally jumping for joy and applauding. It’s a little embarrassing, but it also makes me smile and it validates my proud feeling.

After that, we go about getting some vegetables and other groceries that my mom had written down on a list at home. And Ms. Mikado gets a few things she needs. It's largely uneventful, and I don't have to talk with anyone else.

Now we're about to check out, and Ms. Mikado nudges me ahead to deal with the cashier.

As he scans our items, he says “Bzbzbzbzbzjbzbz.”

I watch his lips closely and from the couple of words I pick up, plus the context I figure out he probably asked ‘Will that be all today?’

“Yes sir, thank you.”

When I go to pay for everything with the debit card for my mom's bank account, Ms. Mikado bumps me out of the way with her shoulder and swipes hers.

“B-but it's expensive.”

She holds up a finger to me as she puts in her PIN. I wouldn't be able to understand her response, so there's no point in arguing right now.

After we finish, we divvy up the bags. I get the ones that are for our house, while Ms. Mikado takes her groceries as well as the tenderloin and bacon.

Crap. I just realized she's going to have to make the filet mignon too. I'm so useless.

I put the bags down on a bench outside the supermarket, <I'm sorry. You paid and you also have to cook.>

She slides her bags down her forearm and signs, <It's all good! I had to pay or your mom would have found out.>

<But…you bought all our groceries and the expensive meat.>

She nods, <It’s fine! Your mom can pay me back if she wants to.>

<That’s very nice of you…but I wish I could help. You're doing everything. Even cooking.>

<Well, you couldn't make it at home without her finding out anyway.> She looks down at the bag dangling from her arm for a moment and then smiles, before signing, <Actually, why don't you->

She stops signing and her eyes get wide and she shakes her head. If I didn't know better, I'd say she's a little embarrassed. But I don't think she feels that emotion.

<Why don't I…what?>

<Nothing. See you tomorrow!> She quickly turns around and walks off before I can respond.

What a weirdo. But what she's doing is very sweet. So she can be weird all she wants.

…

<You really did get groceries!>

My mom just got home from work and after looking in the refrigerator in wonder, communicated her delight.

<Did you think I lied?>

She shrugs, <No. But it's very nice to see. Thank you.>

I nod, <It’s an early birthday present,> “I'll get back to doing it more often.”

My mom looks pleased by this development, <I'm glad you're doing so well.>

I nod, <Ms. Mikado is pretty amazing. Even manages to drag me to the grocery store.>

My mom puts her hand on my shoulder, <Give yourself some credit too.>

I nod, <Okay. I will.>

After that she makes dinner, we eat, and then study for a while. 

Once I'm at my limit I sign, <I'm going to take my bath.>

My mom nods, <Okay. I'll make tomorrow's lunch. What do you want?>

Shit. I don't want to tell her Ms. Mikado is bringing lunch because it would spoil the surprise. And if she finds out she'll probably try to shut it down. 

We did not think this part through.

That means I just have to let her do this.

I should suggest something that is easy to make and that keeps well.

<Rice balls and pickled vegetables.>

My mom looks at me like she's never met me before. I don't blame her. I've never requested such a lunch. 

< That is what you want?>

<Yes. Trying to eat healthier.>

My mom narrows her eyes at me for what seems like an eternity. But then she shrugs, <Fine by me. Have a good bath.>

Thank God we're actually having meat for lunch tomorrow and not just pickled vegetables and rice balls.

The next morning I wake up to a text from Ms. Mikado, “I'm outside your apartment building. Text me when it's a good time to sneak the food in.”

It's 8 a.m. and she's already out there? She must really love my mom.

When I head out into the hall, I can hear my mom getting ready in her room. And when I get downstairs, I see that my mom has already made breakfast. 

Realizing this is the perfect time, I text Ms. Mikado. When I let her in I see she has packaged the filet mignon into bento boxes that I can already smell heavenly. She also has a small store bought cake that she must have grabbed this morning.

We silently start to put things into the fridge, hiding them behind other stuff. But then I hear the sound of my mom heading down the stairs. Ms. Mikado uses her eyes alone to tell me ‘Do something!’

I rush over to the stairs and say, “Happy birthday!” Then I awkwardly hug my mom on the stairs, when she's in between steps.

She laughs and hugs me back despite the awkward positioning. I hold the hug until my mom starts patting me on the back to say, ‘That's enough.’

I hope that gave her enough time.

When we get downstairs, Ms. Mikado is gone and I breathe a sigh of relief.

My mom gives me a look and signs, <Couldn't wait to hug me?>

I laugh awkwardly, <No. It was a special birthday hug.>

My mom narrows her eyes at me for a moment. This is now two days in a row when I did some out of character stuff. She might be suspicious. But as long as she doesn't know exactly what's going on, that's fine.

…

It's lunch time. Once the lesson is over both Ms. Mikado and I dart to the kitchen before my mom can even stand up.

We start reheating the filet mignon and my mom walks into the kitchen with her arms crossed and a funny look on her face. She looks confused and frustrated, but also curious.

I sign, <Go sit down. We'll bring you your lunch.>

My mom sighs and does as she's asked.

A few minutes later, Ms. Mikado and I join her. We bring the pickled vegetables she made as well as the filets, so that the meal is a little more balanced.

I put my mom's plate down in front of her and she smiles at me, but it doesn't really reach her eyes.

That's how she always looks when I do something like this for her. It drives me crazy. 

Just enjoy that we did something for you, woman!

Once we're all seated Ms. Mikado and I sign, <Happy birthday!>

My mom replies, <Thank you, but you shouldn't have.>

When most people say ‘you shouldn't have’ they don't mean it. But my mom does. I'm not going to tell Ms. Mikado, though. 

Ms. Mikado pats me on the shoulder, <Reina requested the meat on her own.>

My mom's smile looks a little more legitimate now, <That’s great!>

My mom takes a bite and signs to Ms. Mikado, <It’s delicious. Thank you.>

After that we eat in uncharacteristic silence. I mean, I guess we're always silent now that we switched to sign 100% of the time, but usually we manage to have a conversation while we do it, even if it can be a little stunted by us holding utensils.

I know the situation is awkward when I have a hard time enjoying steak wrapped in bacon, which would normally be delicious.

Crap. This WAS too much for my mom. I didn't think it would be. Ms. Mikado is almost family at this point, so I thought it would be okay.

I look over at Ms. Mikado who is just smiling and enjoying her meal. It doesn't look like she noticed anything. I'm glad. I don't want her to know that my mom isn't thrilled that we did this.

…

When my mom gets home from work later that evening, she hands me a note. We can communicate most day-to-day stuff by sign at this point. So, any time she gives me a note, I know it's something important and complex that is tough for us to communicate in sign language. I have a feeling I know what it's about, so I sigh as I begin to read it.

On the first day of class, I never would have guessed you and Ms. Mikado would work together to give me a surprise birthday meal. I'm glad to see you two are getting along. In fact, I can't remember the last time you had such a friendly relationship with someone. And that's great.

But what you two did today made me very uncomfortable. You know I don't like that kind of thing. Please don't do it again.

I sigh and put her note down, “I thought it was small enough that you would be okay with it. Sorry.”

Normally I just let this slide. But it's bothering me more this time. I don't know why.  

She replies, <It’s fine. What do you want for->

I interrupt her, “But can I ask why you don't like that kind of thing? I mean, I don't like it either when it's a lot of people. But I'm a social outcast and you're a social butterfly. And it was just us and a woman you really like. Who is at our house constantly. And it was just food.”

My mom sighs and asks me to hand her the paper she wrote her note on. She sits down, turns it over and starts writing on the other side. After a couple of minutes she hands me her note.

I just don't like being fussed over. It doesn't feel right to me. Ms. Mikado worked very hard to cook that and sneak it over here this morning and she's a very busy woman. I don't want her spending her time that way. Or her money. I can't believe you let her pay!

My mom insisted on paying her back. And she did. But I guess she's still mad about it happening at all.

After I read it I sigh, “I agree that she shouldn't have paid. That was all her. She literally pushed me out of the way to do it.”

My mom nods approvingly. 

“But mom, it's your birthday. It's okay to be fussed over on your birthday. At least a little. You fuss over me every second of every day. You deserve it too sometimes.”

She shakes her head, <I don't want it.>

<But why ? You still haven't said.>

She stands up and signs, <It's just how I am.> Then she turns toward the kitchen, signaling this conversation is over.

…

I just got in bed for the night. As I'm setting my alarm clock for the next morning, I get a text from Ms. Mikado,“We messed up today didn't we. :(“

I sigh.

Dammit. I thought she didn't notice. She's more observant than I think. Those smiles of hers can be like camouflage. I saw it and assumed she was blissfully ignorant.

I reply, “A little. My mom is hard to do nice stuff for. She always gets like that. But I know she enjoyed it. She just also feels guilty that someone did something for her.”

Ms. Mikado replies, “That's annoying. But it's good to know she's not perfect! I was starting to wonder! Oh well! I'm gonna do nice stuff if I feel like it, and she just has to accept it!”

I laugh at Ms. Mikado's brazenness. I'm not sure that’s the best approach. But I don't want to discourage her either. 

I've never really talked to someone else about this side of my mom. Or even talked to her about it as much as I did today. But it made me realize something.

Deep down, my mom's unhappy. At least a little bit. Otherwise she wouldn't be so uncomfortable when people do things for her. I have no idea what she would be unhappy about, though. 

I'm glad Ms. Mikado is here to help me figure this out. 

Chapter Text

<How old is your mom?>

<She just turned 42.>

Right now, I'm at my mom's café with Madoka. We've met up here a couple of times since the field trip a few weeks ago. It's been good to practice with someone other than my mom and Ms. Mikado. And I genuinely enjoy talking to her. She’s progressed a lot over the last few weeks, and it makes me happy that she’s doing all this just so she can be a good girlfriend. I’m only doing it because I have to. She’s doing it because she wants to.

Today we are talking about our families. It gives us lots of different vocabulary to use, plus it's interesting to hear about her family. She must think it's interesting too because she has asked many questions about my mom.

<What's her name?>

I fingerspell, <Asami Kato.>

<That's pretty. Where is she from?>

<A small town in Hokkaido. She moved her when she turned 18, though.>

Now I ask her, <How old is your mom?>

<58, I think.>

I sometimes forget how much older most people's parents are. It seems weird to me since all I’ve ever known is a mom who is only a couple decades older than me. I can't even fathom my mom being almost 60. But Madoka probably thinks it's weird my mom is barely out of her 30s.

<Where is she from?>

<Sendai. Her family has been here forever. But my dad is the opposite.> She laughs, <He's American.>

<Oh. Is that where your blonde hair comes from?>

She giggles, <No, it's fake. Dad has dark hair. He is half-Japanese. So I'm 3/4s.>

<Your green eyes are his, though?>

She nods, <Yes, those are real,> she opens her eyes wide as if I should somehow confirm their legitimacy. It makes me laugh.

<Where in the U.S. is he from?>

She fingerspells, <Hawaii.>

<Oh, wow. Have you been?>

She nods, <Once a year. It's pretty. Where is your dad from?>

Oh. We both talked about our moms first, so it makes sense she thinks we're doing the same with our dads. I don't have much to say, though.

I take a moment to think about what I want to say, and how I need to sign it, <It's just me and my mom. And our cat, Haru. That's my whole family.>

From her curious expression, I can tell Madoka has many questions she isn't sure she should ask. I decide to head her off at the pass.

<My dad got my mom pregnant and didn't stick around. They weren't married.>

She frowns, <Sorry.>

<For what?>

She shrugs, <I assumed. I shouldn’t have.> She smiles, <You might have had two moms, too!>

I laugh, <Do you and Akane want to be two moms some day?>

Madoka suddenly turns crimson and chews on her lip. I haven't seen her get embarrassed yet. It's pretty cute. The blush really shows on her fair skin.

She signs, <I hope so,> and then she puts a finger to her lips. It's not officially sign language for ‘Keep it secret, she doesn't know I feel that way yet,’ but it may as well be.

I nod to indicate I get her meaning, <How long have you been together?>

Madoka looks off to the side as she thinks, <About a year and a half.>

I tilt my head to the side, <I thought it was since high school.>

Madoka shakes her head, <I've been in love with her since high school. But we just got together a year and a half ago.>

Wow. Madoka is really patient. At least it paid off.

She's sharing a lot about herself. Maybe I should tell her I'm gay too. I've never willingly told anyone but my mom. Madoka's obviously a safe person to tell.

I feel my heart start to race as I consider how to communicate my biggest secret.

Madoka looks at her phone and frowns, <I have to go.>

I relax a little, because I don't have time to tell her now. But there's also some disappointment mixed in.

Maybe next time.

There's a mischievous glint in her eyes as she signs, <Before I go, I want to show you something.>

She picks up her phone and points to it. I nod.

She smiles, <This will be fun.> 

She taps on her phone a few times and then puts it down on the table so we can look at it together.

 It's two young women. One of them is clearly Akane. She doesn’t look that much different from her appearance today, but it must be a picture from 7 or 8 years ago, because it looks like she’s graduating from high school based on her uniform and the diploma case she is holding. She's smiling really wide and has her arm around an utterly ridiculous-looking woman who is also smiling.

The first thing I notice about the other woman is her bubblegum pink hair. But that's not even the craziest thing about it. That would be the fact that her hair is styled into two huge spirals that hang over each of her shoulders. It looks like pink spaghetti twirled on the end of a fork.

How did she even make it look like that? I've always had short hair and keeping it longer and styling it normally sounds exhausting to me. But those spirals must REALLY take forever.

As I start to look at this woman more closely, I see she has light brown, almost golden eyes, and a very familiar smile.

I'm so surprised that I blurt out, “M-ms. Mikado!?”

Madoka laughs at my outburst, <Yep. That’s her.>

I shake my head, <That hair!>

Madoka chuckles, <It's very interesting.>

I chuckle, <More like crazy. Was she crazy?>

Madoka shrugs, <She was Misha.>

I chuckle, <So, that's a yes?>

<More or less. She can be a lot. But it's worth it. You already know that.>

I think on this for a moment. That's a pretty damn good way of summing her up. ‘A lot, but worth it.’ I'll have to remember that.

<You're right. That hair is a lot too. So it kind of suits her.> I hesitate for a moment,  <Can you send that to me?>

She laughs, <Sure thing.>

Ms. Mikado and I are on another field trip, this time to the university library. It's another important step in helping me feel like I can resume my normal life, so I'm excited about it, but also pretty anxious as I always am when I have to do this kind of thing. But I have to escape the comfort of my house or I’ll never get to put lip reading into practice.

We just arrived and Ms. Mikado is looking around the library lobby in awe. It's really not that impressive. It's mostly a big room filled with computer stations and a few help desks. The very center of the building, where the stacks are, is transparent glass, so you can see floors and floors of books even in the lobby if you look up. It's kind of cool, I guess, but not awe-inspiring, even to me. And I like books. It's like she's never been in a library before.

Wait a minute…

I smirk at her, <First time in a library?>

Ms. Mikado scoffs at me and her cheeks turn a little pink, <No!>

<So you're a big reader?>

She rolls her eyes, <Maybe I'm not much of a reader, but I went to the library in high school and university a lot, okay! This is just a lot bigger.>

<Where did you go to university?>

She fingerspells, <Tsukuba.>

I know that's a medium-sized city in Ibaraki Prefecture, but I've never even heard of the university.

My confusion must show on my face because she adds, <It’s a school for the deaf.>

Well, I'm a jerk. Didn't even know Japan had one of those. And now I'm basically deaf. I should probably do better learning about that kind of thing. It's like…part of who I am, now.

<Ohhh. Got it.>

She nods and I can detect a hint of annoyance in her eyes as she signs, <Anyway - we aren't here for you to make fun of me. We're here to get a book, right?>

Well crap. I think I really hurt her feelings. Not that she'd ever show it in a big way, but even looking a little annoyed means a lot with her.

I nod, feeling embarrassed, <Sorry. I was just joking around. I'm a bookworm who never goes outside. Not like I have any room to make fun of you.>

She sighs, <I know, I know. I was a little snappy. I'm a little on edge. But let's focus on our goal here.>

She's on edge? I wonder why? Clearly she wants us to move on from this topic, but I can't help but wonder.

She starts to look around, as if she'll see a sign that says ‘Reina gets her books here’ or something. Then she looks at me and says, <Lead the way.>

I nod, and head towards the circulation desk. I requested a book that is ready for me to pick it up.  She follows closely behind me with her arms crossed.

I stop a few meters from the desk and point, <That’s where I go.>

I'm relieved when she looks more like herself as she signs, <Okay. I'll be here like at the supermarket. But do your best.>

I nod and walk up to the desk, where a male student is working. He's very tall, and has his long dark hair in a ponytail. He's so much bigger than me that it intimidates me a little. But it shouldn't. I get out my student ID and place it down on the desk, “E-excuse me. I am here to pick up a book.”

He nods and takes my ID and says, “Bzbzbzjzbzbzbzjbz.”

Huh. Him being taller actually kind of makes it easier to read his lips, since there's no way for him to look down where I can't see them. Still, I only picked up about half of what he said.

I make a guess using the context and the words I picked up, “The book should be Women's Lives during the Meiji Restoration .”

He nods and looks at his computer screen, says what must have been ‘be back in a second,’ and heads to the shelves that are behind him. He comes back, scans the book and hands it to me. I thank him and then turn around. Ms. Mikado is smiling and giving me a thumbs up, but she's definitely more muted than normal.

Between how easily I annoyed her earlier and her less joyful demeanor, I'm starting to worry about her.

As I move to join her while thinking of how I might be able to cheer her up, I hear someone say “Bzbzbbzbzjzbz.” I ignore it, as I'm starting to learn to do in these settings. People are never talking to me, so it's worked out. 

But then the owner of the voice gets closer to me and says something again. In my peripheral vision, I see someone walking towards me. I turn towards the sound, and recognize the person, who is looking right at me and saying something. 

She's talking to me.

It's Sakura, the student I sit next to in my Creative Writing capstone. She's a small, friendly girl with chestnut-colored shoulder length hair and brown eyes.

She's a writer like me. We've had several classes together over the years. We really only talk in class, but every now and then we run into each other like this and chat.

Even though I know her - or maybe because I do - I start to panic. I try to say something. But I just end up opening and closing my mouth. I feel like a fish gasping for air. 

Lipreading so far has been a lot more predictable. Situations I have been in a lot. But this is completely spontaneous. I have no idea what she's saying.

My acquaintance now looks up at me with concern and says something else I have no way of understanding. It sends me spiraling even more as I fail to understand even one syllable of her speech.

Just as I'm about to really lose it, I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder and turn to see Ms. Mikado standing next to me. She says something to the girl and then signs, <Do you want to talk to her?>

I nod, and take a deep breath. Ms. Mikado's presence and the physical contact help me calm down.  Now I think I can actually speak. 

“H-hi Sakura. Sorry. I know it sounds weird but I um…got hurt, and c-can't understand speech anymore.”

Sakura replies, and Ms. Mikado immediately begins signing.

This is what it would be like to have her as an interpreter. It sure is convenient.

<Oh. I'm so sorry to hear that. It's good to see you. I've missed you in class.>

“Y-yeah, it's been a bummer not being able to go.” I gesture towards Ms. Mikado, “B-but um, this is my t-teacher, Ms. Mikado, and sh-she's helping me get ready to c-come back. And translating right now.”

The two of them exchange what must be introductions, and then Sakura says something else.

<So, you'll still graduate?>

“I hope so. Probably a semester late, though.”

She nods, <Well, that's amazing. You're the best in our class, you deserve to graduate already as far as I'm concerned.> She smiles, <Have a good evening. I hope I see you soon.>

I nod, “N-nice talking to you.” 

She walks off and I feel completely exhausted by the ordeal.

It's so pathetic that a short conversation qualifies as an ‘ordeal’ for me. Talking to her outside of class would already have stressed me out, but now with this new barrier it feels ten times worse.

I look at Ms. Mikado, who is giving me a warm smile now, <Are you okay?>

I nod, <Thank you so much.>

She smiles, <Of course.>

I think that makes it three panic attacks she saved me from. Too bad I don't get to have her with me full time. 

We go outside and take a seat on a bench outside the library before we part for the day. I feel pretty shitty about everything, and I must not be hiding it, because Ms. Mikado looks worried. 

After some silence she signs, <Lip reading is hard when it's a random conversation like that, don't get down on yourself. You did really well today.>

<It’s never going to be easy to have conversations with people, is it?>

<Well, it can be hard. But if you know the subject of conversation and the person talks slowly it's doable. You kind of have to get people to let you know the subject first, which can be awkward, but it helps a lot.>

I nod, <Okay. You'll help me with that?>

She smiles, <Of course. You've got day-to-day lip reading down. Our last month will be how best to approach more spontaneous stuff.>

<Okay. Again…thank you. You do so much for me. I'd be lost without you.>

She smiles, <Glad you didn't get rid of me on day one like you wanted?>

I grimace and look down, cringing at my behavior on the day we met.

I look back up at her and smile, <Very, very glad.>

As I look at her, I notice she looks more worn out than usual. She looks a little tired around the eyes, and her smile isn't as sharp as it usually is.

She said she was on edge about something. And she hasn't quite been herself all day. Something must be bothering her.

She does so much for me and I never do anything for her. Maybe I can help.

<If you ever need to talk about something, let me know.>

She raises an eyebrow, <Talk about something?>

I nod, <You said you were on edge.>

She raises both of her eyebrows now, <Thank you. That's sweet. But it's personal stuff. And you're my student.>

I feel my heart sink.

I somehow forgot she's my teacher. Not my friend. And now I feel hurt that she won't talk to me when I have no right to feel that way. I'm so freaking stupid.

After that, I quickly apologize and we part ways. As I head home, I remember that she said our class has a month left. I start to get a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach about our class only having a month left. I'm not sure why.

Maybe I'm nervous about being on my own with this disability, and unsure whether or not I can make enough progress to be functional in the amount of time we have left.

Whatever it is, I don't feel good. 

I'm depressed, stressed, and anxious. It's a horrible cocktail of emotions. So horrible that I'm unable to take my afternoon nap.

After giving up on my nap, I head downstairs to the kitchen table and start studying. When I open my laptop, I find an email waiting for me.

Dear Ms. Kato,

There's been a little bit of a schedule change around here. Due to some internal restructuring, our Yuri volume has switched places with one originally scheduled for August. This means we'll be needing your pitch one week from today, instead of in another six weeks. I apologize for the inconvenience.

We look forward to working with you!

“UGH!,” I slam both of my fists on the dining table, on either side of my laptop, feeling completely overwhelmed.

Could this day get any worse? I already feel horrible because I'm worried about rejoining society. I already feel like a pathetic piece of shit because I mistook what Ms. Mikado and I have as an actual friendship when she's just my freaking teacher.

Now I'm reminded that I'm no longer able to do the one thing in life I'm supposed to be good at. 

I can't do anything right. I'm not good at anything. I can't even write anymore.

No one likes me. I don't have any friends. Between my disability and my social anxiety, why am I even trying to be a normal person? I'm not normal. I should just give up.

I glance towards the stairs, and feel a strong desire to run up them and lock myself in my room. Away from everything. At a time like this I'm very tempted to go back to who I was in middle school. 

Realizing I'm on the edge of a total meltdown, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I'm embarrassed to feel a tear run down my cheek when I do.

I count to ten, and then open my eyes again, feeling a little better.

I'm not out of time yet. I have a week left to figure something out. I got that book from the library hoping it would shake an idea loose.

If I don't figure something out in time, maybe I'll lock myself in my room. At that point, I'll be sure that I can't write anymore. I'll be sure that there's nothing about me that's worthwhile. And I can give up.

But right now, I still have time. 

I get out the book I got from the library and begin poring over it, hoping to find some desperately needed inspiration.

Chapter Text

There are 3 days until the deadline for my story pitch. I still don't have any ideas. This, despite the fact that I've only slept a few hours the last couple of nights as I've tried my hardest to extract something from my stupid brain. No luck so far.

It has me in a horrible mood. I so desperately want to be a writer, but I can't even come up with a basic story idea right now. I'm seriously starting to worry that my brain damage might be affecting things, as I've never once had such extreme writer's block.

It's breakfast now, but I'm not very hungry. Even with my mom's grilled salmon in front of me. My mom always gets extra worried when I don't eat as much as I usually do.

<Sweetie, I know you're stressed, but you'll think better if you eat and get a good night's sleep.>

I scoff, <I can sleep once I come up with something. Or after the deadline passes,> “Actually, if I miss the deadline, sleeping is probably all I'll be doing.”

My mom sets her coffee down with a frown, <Is there anything at all I can do to help?>

I shrug, <Have any story ideas?>

My mom laughs, <No.>

<Then no.>

My mom looks at me for a moment, clearly worried. But she knows I'm not going to budge.

<Maybe we can cancel Ms. Mikado for a couple of days, so I have more time.>

Things have been awkward between us ever since I treated her like my friend a few days ago. Class has been fine, but it really feels like she has pulled away from me. And my mom. She isn't texting us at all, and my mom has noticed she isn't herself too. So now we're both worried.

Plus I'm still embarrassed I offered to help her when I shouldn't have. And…still a little hurt that she rejected my help, as unfair as that is.

A couple days without that awkwardness might free up my brain a little bit. And my schedule.

My mom thinks for a moment but then shakes her head, <We need to keep at it. You know that. It's better in the long run.>

I sigh and lean back in my chair, “Fine.”

…

We are eating lunch. My mom made her pork cutlets again so I'm very happy. Even with my diminished appetite, I devoured mine. Although I was surprisingly full after just one.

Now I'm doing the dishes and thinking about Ms. Mikado.

She isn't eating with us. She hasn't since the day at the library. I think I need to give her a better apology or something to make things how they were. I miss eating with her. And texting with her. And I think it's my fault she doesn't do those things anymore. Maybe I should-

My mom taps on my shoulder and gives me a wry smile, <That dish is very clean.>

I laugh awkwardly, realizing that I've been spacing out and thinking about Ms. MIkado while I clean the same dish for several minutes. After that, I pull myself together and finish the dishes.

Then my mom asks, <Can you take out the trash?>

I nod, and get the garbage bag out of the kitchen trash can. I head outside and throw it in the dumpster. On the way back, I see Ms. Mikado pacing on the lawn of the apartment building and talking on the phone while gesturing aggressively. 

When she turns around, I see something I've never seen before.

She isn't smiling. At all.

And not only that, she's very upset. I even think she might be crying. But I'm too far away to tell. I start to feel a pressure in my throat, and an ache in my chest.

If anyone looked how she did right now, I would be worried. With her, I'm way beyond that. I feel the urge to yell at whoever it might be who is making her feel this way.

Just as I'm observing her, she notices me and hangs up the phone. Only now do I realize I've been stock still staring at her. After a brief second, her face lights up how it always does. 

It pisses me off.

She excitedly signs, <Ready for lip reading?>

<Is everything okay?>

She beams, <You know it!>

Something boils over inside of me as I see through her stupid fake smile.

<Just stop faking it! I saw you. You're upset. Very upset. You don't have to lie to me!>

She sighs and looks down at the ground. For a moment, I think I got through to her. And that she might talk to me. Or at least stop with the faux cheeriness and acknowledge that she's upset about something.

But then she looks up at me with the same stupid smile,   <It’s time for our lesson! Let's go.> She heads back to our apartment.

As she does, I want to scream at her. Tell her that it's okay for her to be upset. Tell her that even though I'm just her student, I want to help her. Tell her that she can talk to me.

But I swallow down all of those urges. If I do any of that, I think I will have really crossed a line. And probably just upset her more. 

Instead, I click my tongue and shake my head before following her back to the apartment.

…

Our lesson is over. It was awkward as hell. There's this suffocating tension hanging over us. She knows I want to try to help her. I know she doesn't want me to. Even though we didn't bring the topic up the whole hour, it was on my mind the entire time. And I think it was on hers, too.

Now that she's packing up, I can see some very evident sadness in her eyes, even as she's smiling. It makes me want to try one last time.

<I know I'm just your student. But I want to repay you for how much you've helped me. So…really, if you ever want to talk about->

I stop signing when she thrusts her palm out towards me. For the first time ever, I see anger on her face. She's clenching her jaw, her eyes are narrowed, and there's no smile to be found.

Her hands also move aggressively as she signs, emphasizing every word with an extra flourish showing just how fed up with me she is, <I. Don't. Want. To. I made it clear at the library, didn't I? And after lunch? How many times do you need me to tell you for you to stop? Do you need it in writing? Because I'm getting sick of having to remind you.>

I just look on, stunned by the transformation in her demeanor. I also feel very hurt, like the pathetic loser I am. Only someone as socially inept as me would keep thinking her teacher is her friend.

She slings her bag over her shoulder, <Don't bring this up again. Promise me that you won't.> She looks at me pointedly.

I nod, doing my best to conceal how personally I'm taking it. I could cry right now if I really let myself go. But that would be even more pathetic. 

She gives me her usual smile. It makes me even more upset because I know for sure it isn't real.

 <Okay. See you tomorrow!>

…

It's bedtime. I wanted to actually get some sleep tonight. But instead I'm staring up at the ceiling unable to lose consciousness.

This was a pretty shitty day. On top of everything that happened with Ms. Mikado, I still have nothing when it comes to my story pitch. I wasn't very focused tonight. I was mostly ruminating about Ms. Mikado.

I feel pretty useless. There are two things I desperately want to do – Help Ms. Mikado feel better and write a story. But I can't do either of them. 

What am I even good for?

I can't stop thinking about how angry with me she was. I don't blame her. I really did cross a line that she made clear she didn't want me to cross. 

But I also can't stop thinking about her face when she was on the phone. I wanted to help her so badly. And now I can't stop worrying about what might be troubling her. Or who might be making her feel this way.

She's such a wonderful, beautiful person, and the idea that anyone would make her upset just makes me mad. She deserves to be happy. And she isn't right now.

As I think about her, I start to feel an intense emotion. It's like…a pressure in my stomach, and tightness in my chest, and I'm lightheaded too. It's sort of familiar. But when did I feel like this before?

Oh no. Please…no.

As I realize the terrible cause of this feeling, I cover my face with my arms. The movement prompts a dissatisfied chirp out of Haru. But I'm too distracted by my realization to comfort her.

Oh God. This is even more intense than last time. Probably because I'm not 13.

How did this even happen?

I mean sure, she's the prettiest woman I've ever seen. I've thought that from the beginning. But this…this goes well beyond that objective fact. There's a very strong emotional component.

I want to do whatever I can to help her when she's sad. I want to be there for her. I want to hold her, and comfort her. I enjoy being around her so much.

I really care about her. More than a student should care about their teacher or mentor.

I shake my head at myself.

No, no, no. This can't be right.

She's one of the most infuriating people I know! She's the kind of woman I would just roll my eyes at and judge for being loud and obnoxious and unnecessarily bubbly. In fact, I HAVE done those things to her.

How can I possibly feel this way? Have I lost my freaking mind?!

I sigh and shake my head at myself and whisper, “She's annoying! She's infuriating! She's ridiculous!”

She's…also the sweetest, most caring person I know.

And I swear she's gotten even prettier lately. Her golden eyes are so captivating, and I've even started to love her smiles. The whole range of them. And her body-

 Aw, shit. Shit shit shit. 

I pound the mattress with my fist, “SHIT!”

Haru jumps off the bed with an angry meow.

I put my hand over my mouth, realizing that I just said that out loud. And really loudly. I start to come up with what I'll say to my mom if she comes running as a result of my outburst.

I was just dreaming. Yeah, that'll work.

Luckily, she doesn't come. I breathe a sigh of relief, but the relief doesn't last long once I return to my dilemma.

This is exactly what I was afraid of when I first met her. Having to deal with this. She was so annoying I figured it would never, ever happen. Why does she also have to be a good person?

I finally sigh in resignation, and openly admit to myself what I've so far only been dancing around.

I'm in love with her. Now what?

Just as I'm lamenting my situation, I feel a familiar sensation. One I've been longing for. The feeling of a story idea crystallizing in my mind. And the urge to write it down. I quickly sit up in bed, grab my laptop off the floor, and open up the email from the publisher and I start typing at a blinding speed. When this happens, it's almost like I've been possessed.

Thank you so much for your offer. I do have an idea for a story that I hope you'll consider.

It is set in the 1870s right after the Meiji Restoration. It will focus on a Japanese noblewoman in her early 20s who is learning English from a private tutor. The noblewoman is the quiet, introverted, gloomy type, who isn't very happy in her life. Partly because she's hiding that she is gay from everyone.

Her tutor is the exact opposite. A bubbly, energetic extrovert who always seems to be happy. She lights up the room wherever she goes.

Their personalities clash at first. But over time they come to understand one another, and against all odds the two of them fall in love.

I read it over once and hit send.

Just as I send the email, my phone buzzes.

It's a text message from Ms. Mikado. It's not in the text chat with my mom. It's just to me. 

“I'm so sorry I snapped at you today. I went way too far and you didn't deserve it :(“

My heart starts pounding just from her text. If I had any doubts about whether I was in love with her, they are long gone now. I wouldn't have such a strong reaction to this text otherwise.

I sigh and lay back in bed as I respond,  “It's okay. I'm sorry too. I snapped at you first. And I'm your student. I won't overstep anymore.”

Her reply comes quickly, “You ARE my student. It wouldn’t be right of me to tell you all about my personal life.” She finishes her text with an animation of a cartoon cat shaking its head.

It's okay if I'm only a student to her. At least I still get to be with her a lot.

But then, a realization dawns me.

If I'm just her student…that means when our class is done I'll never see her again.

I feel a pang in my chest when I think that.

I know she won’t ever love me the same way. But…not ever seeing her again…

Just as I’m starting to become uncharacteristically emotional about things, Ms. Mikado sends another text.

“BUT…once our class is over, I might tell you about it if it's still bothering me. For now though, just try to forget you saw me on the phone today and stuff.”

Despite being embarrassed with how happy I am that she might want to tell me more about herself someday, I respond, “I would like that.”

“YAYYY! Goodnight, future (but definitely not until our class is over) friend.”

I laugh and shake my head. We didn't talk about what is upsetting her. But it's only because right now we have a relationship where it would be inappropriate.

And…I mean enough to her that we're going to be friends after our class ends. That makes me happy. It means I'll still see her sometimes. And maybe she'll confide in me in the end. 

And somehow I managed to turn all of this emotional turmoil into a pretty good story idea.

And I like how I feel about her. It's a little scary, given what happened to me last time I felt just a little bit like this. But…I'm older now. I'll handle it better. She won't find out.

Of course, if she ever reads the story I'm planning on writing she might figure it out. But luckily for me she's not much of a reader. And she has never once asked about my writing and I don't see that changing.

I'm just really happy to spend time with her. That's all I want. I'm really looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. And I'm excited to be her friend.

Maybe this wasn't such a shitty day after all.

It’s breakfast, and my mom can already tell that I’m feeling much better than the last time she saw me.

<You look like a new woman this morning. Get some sleep?>

I nod, <And I sent in my story pitch. And they accepted it,> “So, crisis averted.”

My mom claps her hands together happily, <I knew you would figure it out. What's the pitch?>

As I pick up my hands to sign, I realize that I can't tell my mom all the details. There's no way she won't figure out my inspiration.

I didn't think this through. I was too happy about having a story idea to think about consequences like this. Maybe Ms. Mikado doesn’t read or ask about my writing, but that’s not true of my mom. She reads everything I write and is often a sounding board for me.

I decide to be vague, <It’s about two women right after the Meiji Restoration who meet, become friends, and fall in love.>

My mom nods with a smile, and luckily doesn't ask any follow-up questions, making me feel relieved.

She'll find out eventually. I don't really want to hide it from her forever anyway, but I definitely don't want her to know until our class is over.

Chapter Text

Tomorrow is the last day of my class with Ms. Mikado. I have very mixed feelings about that. I'm proud of what I've managed to accomplish in three months, and I'm glad I am proficient enough in sign language and lip reading to resume a somewhat normal life. 

But I've gotten so used to seeing Ms. Mikado 6 days a week. And now I'm in love with her. So the idea of not seeing her as much is a pretty big downer.

I've been doing my best to distract myself from that reality. The good news is, I have a lot of distractions. I'm writing my story and getting ready to complete my course work. They keep my mind off of things to a degree.

Of course, I think about Ms. Mikado all the time when I'm writing too…but somehow I can compartmentalize things. 

Right now, I'm distracting myself with a meeting with Madoka at my mom's café. Today we are sitting outside on the patio. It wasn't my idea. I generally like being indoors. But Madoka was excited to sit outside since as she puts it, ‘It's a beautiful day.’ 

I'm not sure what's so beautiful about it. It’s getting hot. I'm an indoor kind of gal. It’s not very comfortable out here in my hoodie, but I'm not going to tell her that.

She smirks, <So, you survived Misha.>

I laugh, <Yep! She is ‘a lot’ as you once said. But also a good teacher.>

She smiles, <I know she is. But you two are very different.>

I chuckle, <Picked up on that, did you?>

She nods, <But I'm really glad you two are going to be friends.>

I feel my cheeks get a little warm, <She told you about that?>

<Well, she told Akane. Akane told me. Misha asked her for advice.>

<Advice about what? Me?>

Madoka looks off to the side for a moment, <Nothing. Forget I said that.>

I'm about to push her to tell me, but then she looks down at her phone and gets a complicated expression on her face. She looks annoyed, angry, and maybe a little bit ashamed too.

When she looks back up at me I ask,  <Why did you just pull a face?>

<I didn't.>

I laugh, <You did. You looked angry and annoyed.>

Madoka pouts, <I was trying to hide it.>

<And failing.>

She sighs and taps her fingers on the table for a moment before another long look at her phone, <We're friends, right?>

I guess we are. Over the last few months I've talked more with her than just about anyone outside of Ms. Mikado and my mom.

<I think so, yeah.>

She raises an eyebrow, <You don't sound very sure.>

I shrug, <I've never had very many friends. So, I guess I'm unsure what it feels like.>

I see a brief flash of pity on Madoka's face. It pisses me off, but it's gone in an instant so I let it go.

<Well, you're my friend. We talk about our lives and stuff. And I like talking to you. You even know one of my secrets!>

I laugh, <That's true. Okay. You're my friend too. Why do you ask anyway?>

<Because I need to vent about something. It's friend stuff.>

I laugh, <Okay. Is it about whatever you made that face about?>

She nods and taps her fingers on the table for a moment again before signing, <Akane's out of town visiting her best friend.>

<Isn't that nice?>

She sighs, <It is. But I'm a jealous-> She pauses for a moment and then signs <...female dog.>

It takes me a second but then I get her meaning, <You're worried there's something between them?>

She nods, <Akane used to be in love with her.>

<Oh. I can understand your feelings, then.>

She smiles wryly and seemingly cringes at herself, <Only because I haven't told you everything.>

<What do you mean?>

<The other girl is straight and married. And just had a baby. That's why Akane is visiting. And Akane hasn't loved her in years.>

<Oh.>

I do my best to keep my face neutral even though I'm surprised Madoka is being so irrational about this. She already seems to know that, so it won't help if I make her feel bad.

<See! It's stupid! I'm such a mess.> 

Apparently I didn't do a very good job hiding my feelings.

She sighs and slumps her shoulders. She starts fidgeting with a paper straw wrapper.

She's really upset. More with herself for feeling how she does, I think, than with Akane. Maybe I can distract her a little.

I take a deep breath, <Since we're friends. And you told me a couple secrets, I want to tell you one.>

Her face brightens up a little.

I take another deep breath, to steady myself. Then I look around, just in case someone who knows sign is watching. When I'm satisfied there isn't I sign, <I'm gay.>

Her eyebrows go up a little, but she doesn't look quite as shocked as I expected. I've read that gay people can spot one another. But I've never put much stock in it. Well, even if she already suspected, there's something important I need to say.

<Please, don't tell anyone.>

She puts her hand to her chest and shakes her head, <I would never out someone. Thank you for sharing that.> She looks uneasy as her eyes drift in the general direction of the counter inside the cafe. Then she looks back at me, <Does your mom know?>

I nod, <She's the only one.>

<She's good with it?>

I nod.

She relaxes a little, <Good. Parents can be the hardest.>

<Were yours?>

She nods, <My dad's fine with it. My mom…tries to be, at least.>

<I'm sorry. That's hard.>

Madoka exhales, <It is. I had boyfriends before. Didn't like it. Mom just thinks I didn't try.>

<She told you that?>

<More or less.>

I am once again very thankful for my mom.

<Is it always…hard being out? Like…with strangers too?>

She nods grimly, <We don't act like girlfriends in public. It sucks. I just wanna hold her hand sometimes. Japan's dumb.>

<America is a lot better?>

She nods, <Not perfect. But better, yeah. Gay marriage is legal in Hawaii now.>

<Wow. Would you move?>

She puts her finger to her lips to let me know it's a secret, <I wanna move one day. I can't live my whole life hiding who I am.>

I frown, <Makes sense.>

<Sorry. I don't mean to say you can't be gay and stay in Japan.>

<Oh. I wasn't thinking about that. I don't think I'll ever find someone, so it doesn't matter for me.>

Now the pity from earlier makes a reappearance on her face. So does my anger.

<What? Why?>

I shrug, <That stuff just doesn't work out for me. I think I'm supposed to be alone.>

She studies me for a moment, <If…that's what you want. Is it?>

I really don't want to elaborate on how I feel. So I'll simplify things.

<Yep. It is.>

It's the last hour of the last class with Ms. Mikado.

<Okay, so for our last lesson - let's just make sure you are prepared for your meeting with your professor on Monday.>

I nod.

For the last month the lipreading section of our course focused on strategies for lipreading. Like how to put myself in a situation where I can be most successful. It's good to review all that, because I'm nervous about a meeting with my adviser where we will discuss how to finish my course work.

<So, what should you do ahead of the meeting?>

<Email her, make sure she understands my limitations, let her know the topic of our meeting.>

Ms. Mikado nods, <And what should you bring?>

<Pen and paper.>

<And what do you do if you aren't able to read her lips?>

<Ask her to stop and switch to writing.>

She smiles, <Yep. Just do your best. People are pretty understanding.>

I love that she's so optimistic. Even if it feels a little naive sometimes. 

In this case, I think it's true that my professor will be understanding. She has always been patient with me and all of my problems. There's just a new one in the mix now.

…

Our class is officially over. I'm seeing Ms. Mikado to the door. I'm feeling very emotional about the end of our class, but doing my best to hide it.

I was dreading this class with her at the beginning. Now I'm all broken up about it ending. Life is funny.

She turns around after putting her shoes back on and giving me a stiff bow, <Well, congratulations. You worked really hard and I think it really paid off.>

I smile, <Thank you. Your hard work paid off too. You were an amazing teacher.>

She nods and bows again, <Thank you. And good luck in your future endeavors.>

She quickly turns around and opens the door and is gone in an instant, leaving me feeling dumbfounded. She was oddly formal at the end, and left so abruptly. 

Maybe she's having second thoughts about us being friends? That was too weird not to mean something.

I sigh, and turn around to head back to the living room, feeling the need to shed a few tears.

But then I'm surprised to hear a knock on the door. I freeze in place, filled with anxiety. I really do not want to talk to some random person right now.

I take another step towards the living room and there's another knock.

Seriously? Just go away. Sell your stuff somewhere else.

There's another knock. This time, it's silly and rhythmic, to the rhythm of a child's nursery rhyme.

Wait a second…

This time I go and look through the peep hole, and I'm not surprised to see a smiling Ms. Mikado. 

I guess she forgot something.

I sigh and open the door and her smile gets even wider, <Took you long enough. I just got off work and I was in the area. Do you want to get some coffee with me, friend?>

I laugh and shake my head at her, feeling very relieved that her weird demeanor earlier was all part of a silly joke.

I should have known she'd do something like this.

<Sure, let's go.>

…

We've just taken a seat at the cafe.

Predictably, Ms. Mikado has a giant milkshake-looking coffee drink in front of her. It's dark brown and covered in chocolate syrup, so I'm sure it's a mocha frappuccino or something.

It's getting pretty warm, so I don't blame her for selecting a cold drink. But isn't she embarrassed to drink something like that in public?

Of course, I think one of the things I like about her is that she doesn't seem to give a damn what people think. 

I have a more sensible iced Chai latte and a breakfast sandwich. 

<So Reina, what are you going to do now that you finished your class?> She grins,  <How will you go on without me?>

She's joking. But there's some truth to what she's saying. Both because I'm in love with her and will miss seeing her as much AND because I'm kind of scared about living life with this disability.

I laugh off my real feelings and then sign, <It'll be tough, but I'll manage. What about you, Ms. Mikado? How will you survive without your favorite student?>

“Wahahaha!~”, <I'll manage too. Barely. By the way, you don't have to call me ‘Ms. Mikado’ anymore. We're friends now!>

<What should I call you, then.> I pause for a moment and then fingerspell, <Misha?>

She lets out another “Wahahaha~” but this time I don't get the joke.

That's her name isn't it?

<That’s a nickname I used in high school, so my friends from back then still use it. But I don't want you to call me that.>

<So your name is…>

<Shiina. You can call me that if you like.>

It feels weird not to call her the same thing I've called her for months. And I'm a little scared of getting too close with her because of my feelings. And calling her Shiina will definitely make us closer. 

But she's right, she isn't my teacher. We are on even footing now. As friends. And that's really great. I can handle this.

I quietly say, “Shiina.”

She nods happily.

I think for a moment before asking, <How do you get ‘Misha’ from your name?>

She laughs and fingerspells her first and last name, emphasizing part of it, < Mi kado Sh ina>.

I narrow my eyes, <Seems like a bit of a stretch.>

She crosses her arms dramatically and then signs, <I was trying to be creative, okay! We don't all make good choices at 16.> She looks bashful for a moment, <Now then, what should I call you?>

<You already call me Reina.>

She pouts, <No fair! I want a new name to call you too!>

<Sorry.>

She taps her finger on her chin for a moment while looking off to the side, <What about…Rei-chan?> 

My negative feelings about that nickname must have been evident on my face, because she almost immediately asks, <Don't like it?>

<My mom called me that until I was like 14. I don't know if I want you calling me that.>

Her pout intensifies, <Okay, but she didn't call you that in sign language, right?>

Her adorable pout and animated signing breaks down some of my resistance, but I still don't like the nickname, so I show her with my face.

Her pout intensifies further still and she looks at me for a moment, <What about…Rei…kun?>

No one's ever called me that. I kind of like her having her own thing to call me. And I think -kun suits me much better than -chan.

<Okay. You can call me that.>

She beams, <Okay, Rei-kun it is.>

I'm on campus and standing in front of my adviser's closed office door with lots of butterflies in my stomach. It's almost time for our meeting. Ms. Mikado-

Oh, woops. It's hard to stop thinking of her by that name. Let's start over.

SHIINA prepared me for this. And I like my adviser. She's a very nice woman. We have a good relationship. And I know she isn't going to be mad at me or anything. She's been very understanding about my absence via email. 

But this is still the first time I have seen one of my instructors since everything, and I'm worried things will go horribly wrong.

And even if we can make it work, having to communicate so slowly might be a huge pain even to a very nice woman. She is busy after all. Does she have time to cater to a single disabled student?

I close my eyes and take a deep breath and give myself encouragement.

I can do this. Shiina prepared me. Professor Yoshitaka is very nice. She's not overly serious and she makes stupid jokes. She'll be understanding. I can do th-

I hear the click of the door opening and grimace as I come face to face with my professor, who is giving me a bemused look.

<Hello Ms. Kato. Are you just going to stand there all day or come in?>

I'm stunned by what I just saw and think I might be hallucinating. 

Maybe the brain damage is worse than I thought, because there's no way that she-

She laughs, interrupting my train of thought and deftly signs, <If you don't close your mouth, an insect might fly in.>

I close my mouth and blink several times, “H-how do you know sign language?”

She steps aside and extends her arm welcomingly, <Have a seat and I'll tell you.>

I nod and sit down in front of her, across from her desk. I've had lots of good talks with her here. It feels good to be back in her office. It's one of the few places outside of my house where I feel somewhat comfortable.

Professor Yoshitaka is probably in her 50s, with wavy, shoulder length salt and pepper hair. She has glasses, but they mostly stay on top of her head, unless she has to read something. She has very kind brown eyes and eternally looks curious or amused by something.

Right now though, I'm the one who is curious. Luckily, she answers my question from earlier.

<My father is deaf. So, I learned it growing up. It's my father tongue, you might say.>

I chuckle, “Wow you…can even do your…usual jokes in sign language.”

She puts her hand to her mouth and laughs softly, <People say I get my sense of humor from my dad, so I might actually be better at it this way.>

One thing I've learned since the accident is that there are way more hearing impaired people than I ever realized. They were kind of invisible to me before, which makes me feel pretty bad and self-centered. I have only learned about universities for the deaf, hearing aides, people who learn sign language to talk to their partner's family, and people with deaf parents since then. But they've been around all along.

I decide to switch to sign language. I wasn't really thinking this was even a possibility, but as comfortable as she is with it, I may as well.

<It is a relief to know you can sign. I was worried about how we'd talk. It was going to be slow.>

<It’s actually nice to sign with a student.  I don't get to do it very often these days. My first job out of grad school was at Tsubuka, so it’s sort of nostalgic.>

<Oh! My->, I pause for a moment, unsure what word I should use, <friend went there. She taught me sign, actually.>

My professor smiles, <That’s great! It's a good school.>

I won't mention I was completely ignorant of its existence until quite recently.

<You seem to be doing well.  Do you feel ready to complete your coursework?>

I nod.

She nods back and puts her glasses on the end of her nose as she looks at something on her desk. She nods to herself, then pushes her glasses back up, <Looks to me like you've completed your requirements for graduation.>

I blink several times, thinking for the second time today I must be imagining things.

She laughs in response, <What do you need to finish the capstone for? You're having a story published, right?>

I nod.

<What publication is it?>

I start to panic. I was hoping she wouldn't ask about the details. But…she'll know when it comes out. And she's nice. And probably smart enough to know there is subtext in most of my stories.

<It’s an anthology being published by Kodamsha. A yuri anthology.>

She nods, <Great. That's great. Well see, the last unit in the capstone was about preparing a story for publication. Sounds like you did it. And Professor Shimata was satisfied with your work in Advanced Poetry. And the rest of the department agrees that you're all done!>

I'm so stunned by these developments I mutter, “I…wow. Thank you.”

She waves her hands at me, <No need for ‘thank you's. You've been an exemplary student. You've done more than enough for your degree. No need to make you do more after all you've been through and what you've already accomplished.>

We've always had a good relationship, but she's still never really openly praised me like this.

 She and the other writing professors all think I'm a good writer. That makes me so happy. And so much more confident.

Much to my embarrassment, I start to sniffle and a few tears make their way down my cheeks. I wipe them on my hoodie sleeve and reply, <Even if you don't want me to thank you, I do want to express my gratitude. This is all a big relief for me, and you didn't have to do it.>

She smiles and gives me a wink, <Well, I won't say no to a ‘thank you’ in the dedication of your first book.> She pauses for a moment and looks more amused than usual, <Or some store credit at the cafe.>

I laugh at her silly joke, feeling a weight off my shoulders.

If someone like her believes in me this much…I know I can do it. I can be a professional writer. 

Chapter Text

I'm at the kitchen table working on my story. I'm having a particularly productive day. I've written 5,000 words and I know there are more coming. When this happens I just have to get the words written. There will be lots of editing later to be sure, but right now the story almost feels like it's spilling out of me and it feels actively uncomfortable if I don’t let it out.

As I'm engrossed in my work, I hear a loud knocking sound.

It makes me jump and let out a ridiculous sound, “Eep!”

Embarrassed, I look up and see my mischievously smiling mom, with her knuckles on the table.

<Sorry. I couldn't get your attention. I thought this would scare you less than me touching you.>

“I-it's okay.”

<Writing again?>

I nod, eager to end the conversation and get back to typing.

My mom pouts, <Are you ever going to let me read it?>

This fully pulls my attention away from my screen, where I've just written a scene where the gloomy woman tries to get her energetic English teacher fired by questioning her experience. 

I clear my throat, “Th-this time I think I want to wait until it's done.”

She lets out a dejected sigh and signs, <Okay. That's fine. Anyway, I got home a while ago and was trying not to disturb you. But it's getting late. You need to eat.>

I look at the time on my computer. It is way later than I thought it was. I really lose track of time when I'm like this. I honestly still thought she hadn't gotten home, but she's probably been home for two hours.

I take a deep breath and close my laptop, realizing that it's probably for the best right now.

…

We just finished another great meal courtesy of my mom.

Just as I'm about to head to my room to continue writing, she asks,  <Are you sure you'll be okay for a few days on your own?>

I sigh, “Yes mom. I'm a big girl. I know I don't always act that way. But I am. Besides, you've left me home alone when you go on these trips before, right?”

My mom is going out of town for a few days. She does this every year in the summer. The cafe slows way down because there are a lot fewer classes at the university, so they close it for a few days and she takes the employees to a work retreat at an onsen in the countryside.

So, In addition to being an amazing mom, she's also a pretty amazing boss. 

I mean, an onsen retreat with my coworkers sounds like hell on earth to me, but I understand most people like that kind of thing.

She frowns, <I know you can handle yourself. And be home alone for a few days. But this is the first time since you got hurt. I worry.>

I am a tiny bit anxious about that myself. But I need to do this. And so does she.

<I know. But I'll be okay. I can do it.>

My mom's been gone a couple of days and so far so good. I've been continuing to write. I actually just got back home from the library where I was getting some more reference material about women in the time after the Meiji Restoration.

It's around midday now, and I'm feeling a little sleepy. I head up to my room to take a nap. As usual, Haru is already on the bed, laying on her side facing away from me. But she doesn't give me her usual greeting.

I sit down on the bed, “Someone's sleepy today. You didn't even chirp at me, huh?”

I put my hand on her. She doesn't respond to me at all. Even though her eyes are open. I also notice that her mouth is open and she's panting, almost like a dog.

“H-Haru?”

I try petting her some more and nothing changes. 

“H-haru? Are you okay?”

I try petting her again, hoping she'll just hop up and be her usual self. But my hopes aren't fulfilled.

I need to get her to the vet. And fast.

I get out my cell phone and dial the number for her vet. 

After a few rings, they pick up, “Bzbzbzbzbzj.”

Shit. I kind of forgot about my stupid brain because I'm panicking.

I hang up and bite my lip as I try to decide what to do next. I decide to call my mom. She’ll know what’s going on. She knows I won’t be able to understand her. But I can ask her to call the vet.

I call my mom, but it rings several times and goes to voicemail. It does the same thing when I try again. She’s probably busy with her work retreat, and who knows when she’ll be able to call me back. I'm way too worried to wait.

I look over at Haru, who is still panting and not reacting to anything. I feel bile rising in my throat as I feel completely useless for being unable to take care of my cat, who is also pretty much my best friend.

She trusts me to take care of her. And here I am unable to do anything for her. 

But I can't wallow in self-pity and fall to pieces. I don't have the time for that.

I take a few deep breaths, and I start to think more quickly. I decide to try to ask someone else for help. The very first person I thought of after my mother. 

I look at the clock and frown, realizing that she’s still with a student. But I don’t know who else to turn to.

It rings several times, and just as I think it’s about to go to voice mail, she picks up and says, “Bzbzbzbzj,” even hearing her voice the distorted way I do soothes me a little. Someone can finally help me.

“H-hi Shiina u-um…something is really wrong with Haru. She’s panting and acting strange and not responding. A-and my mom is out of town, and I can’t talk to the vet office on the phone so I don’t know what to do.”

She replies, “Bzbzbzbzj,” and hangs up. 

Seconds later, she sends me a text ,”Hang on. I have to make a couple of calls, but I think I know a vet who will see her on short notice.”

I feel relieved, but also a little mystified. 

Shiina doesn't have pets. How does she know a vet?

After about five minutes there's another text, “It's Matsuzaka Vet Clinic. Here's the address.”

After thanking her, I gently pick up Haru, who at least now almost seems to be sleeping peacefully and not panting. I load her into her carrier, and head to the vet.

 …

When I get to the clinic, I'm surprised to see Shiina waiting outside.

I'm so relieved I could cry. Not only did she somehow find a vet that would see Haru on short notice, she's here for the appointment! That's a huge relief. It was going to be challenging communicating with the vet. 

She jogs over to me and checks on Haru in her carrier.

<Still the same?>

I nod, prompting a rare frown out of Shiina.

“Did you leave work? You didn't have to.”

She looks at me like I'm the biggest idiot in the world, <I told them there was an emergency. And there is, isn't there?>

I nod.

She smiles and says, <Come on then, they are ready for you.>

“Th-thank you. This will be much easier with you here.”

For more reasons than just your skill as an interpreter. When you're around I just feel better. I'm so tempted to tell her that…

But I shouldn't. 

She nods and opens the door for me. 

…

We're in the waiting room now. I gently take Haru out of her carrier and place her on the examining table. She's panting and unresponsive like before. I pet her nervously, more for my comfort than hers. Although I hope it's helping her some, I sort of feel like she's unaware of it. 

I explain everything that happened to Shiina, who starts to look worried. All the more so when she sees how Haru is behaving.

Not long after that the vet himself comes into the room. I was kind of expecting a tech, but this is an emergency and with the urgency in his eyes and posture, he knows it.

He says something to me, and Shiina intercepts. I'm guessing she's explaining my situation. The man nods and then looks at Shiina and then back at me and back at Shiina. I guess he's not sure who to talk to. Finally he settles on me.

As he speaks, Shiina signs, <Can you tell me what happened?>

I nod and explain how I found her. He examines Haru while I do.

If I saw him anywhere else he would be an intimidating man. He's quite tall and bald, and seems kind of gruff, but from the way he's delicately examining Haru, I can tell that he's not as scary as he looks. 

After he examines her, he says something else.

<Has she had any different symptoms or behaviors before today?>

“N-no. I don't think so.”

<She hasn't been thirstier, or hungrier, or more tired than usual?>

I think for a moment, but ultimately shake my head, “Not that I have noticed.”

He nods, <I'm going to take some of her blood to test. Is that okay?>

“Y-yeah, whatever you need to do to help her.”

He sticks his head out the door of the exam room and says something, and when he turns around he has a syringe, some vials, and some sort of handheld electronic device. A woman comes into the room too. She must be the tech.

She's a small woman, shorter than me, with curly chestnut colored hair. She's probably in her 50s.

With her help, he draws some blood from Haru's front leg. He fills a vial with it and hands it to her, and she leaves the room. Then he takes the handheld device he has and sticks it on the less furry part of Haru's ear. There's a popping sound, and I see a little pin prick on her ear that is bleeding.

“Wh-what's that?”

As he responds I look to Shiina, who to my surprise isn't signing. She's just staring at the vet with a blank expression. After a moment, she signs, <It’s to check her blood glucose levels. She might have diabetes.>

As I look back to Haru and the vet, I notice the device has a small piece of paper that he put some of her blood on. Now it's displaying a number. 

The vet nods and then clicks his tongue, <Her blood sugar is dangerously high and she's very dehydrated. She's in a diabetic coma.>

“C-coma?”

Once again, the vet says something and there is an uncharacteristic delay from Shiina, <Yes, but it's reversible if we lower her blood sugar. We need to give her some IV fluids, electrolytes and insulin, and keep her here for observation for about 24 hours.>

“A-and she'll be okay?”

<Most likely. I need to get her the medication as soon as possible though.>

I nod, “O-okay. Thank you.”

With a nod, he gently picks up Haru and takes her out of the room. 

After he leaves, I look over at Shiina, who looks just about the most shaken I've ever seen her. It reminds me a little of when she was upset and talking on the phone outside of our apartment as few weeks back.

“H-he said she's going to probably be okay, right? Did I misunderstand?”

In an instant, her distraught expression transforms into a bright smile, <Yep! You understood.>

After that, the vet tech from before comes back with a bunch of literature about diabetes in cats. I'm going to have to get her special food, check her blood sugar, and administer insulin once she comes home. It's all a little overwhelming. 

She tells us that Haru is now receiving medication, and that we can call if we have any questions or even if we just want to check on Haru.

The whole time Shiina is relaying info to me, she doesn't seem like her usual self.

Shiina and I just got back to the apartment. I invited her in for some barley tea and snacks to thank her, even though it isn't anywhere close to enough.

When I get back from the kitchen with our tea I hear Shiina sniffling, and I see a few tears on her face. She hastily wipes them away when she notices me.

After I set down the tea I ask, <Are you worried about Haru?>

She takes her tea and stirs it,  <A little.>

<You were crying. That's not a little.>

She sighs, <Saw that, did ya?>

I nod.

She frowns and stares down at her tea for a moment. Without looking up, she signs, <Remember how near the end of our class I was really snappy with you, and upset and stuff?>

“Yeah.”

She looks up from her tea, <Do you still want to know about that?>

Despite being utterly flummoxed about how these things are related, I also feel elated that she is ready to share this with me. I've wanted to ask so many times since we became friends, but I've held my tongue.

<Of course I do. If you want to tell me.>

<My dad has diabetes too.>

<Oh, I see. Is he in bad health?>

<Not yet. But he isn't doing anything about it. He refuses to. Everything with Haru reminded me how bad that is. What if he loses consciousness like that?>

<Yeah, that wouldn't be good.>

<We were fighting about it a lot. Almost constantly, actually. To the point that he won’t even speak to me now. Ever since that day you saw me arguing with him on the phone.>

I frown, <I'm so sorry. That sounds very hard.>

She nods and fiddles with the fabric of her napkin, <He says all I do is nag him about his health. And until I stop doing that, he doesn’t want to hear from me. I'm so worried about losing him, but it feels like I already have.> Her hands are shaking by the end of her sentence.

She starts to sniffle, but I can tell she's holding back tears. 

“Shiina…please just cry if you need to. You don't have to hold back. I'm here for you. You can show me how you really feel.”

My words seem to break the dam that was holding her tears in. Her lip starts to tremble and then tears start streaming down her face in earnest. She sits back in her chair and starts to sob. 

It's a sight that makes my heart ache. Before I know what I'm doing, I've moved next to her and put my arms around her. She leans into me and continues to cry. She puts her arms around me and holds me tight.

As she cries and we hold each other, I find myself feeling ashamed. Even in this situation, my heart starts thumping from being so close to her. From touching her and feeling her warmth. I also find myself thinking of how beautiful she is, even when she's crying.

I do my best to ignore those thoughts and feelings. Instead, I focus on how good it feels to help her, after how much she has helped me.

After a little while she lets go of me and sits up, giving me a bashful smile.

“Feel any better?”

She nods guiltily, <Sorry I made this about me, Rei-kun. Haru is probably still in a coma right now and here I am relying on you.>

I scoff, <I relied on you a lot today. And the last several months. I'm glad you felt you could rely on me too.>

She smiles, <I do. I really do. Especially after today.>

<You don't have to deal with the Haru stuff anymore.>

She waves a hand at me, <I think about my dad all the time anyway. I want to help. Plus if I need to cry again I know I can.>

<But->

She takes my hand mid-sign and my heart starts pounding again. She gives it a squeeze and smiles before letting go, <You…and your mom…and Haru, you're some of my favorite people. So I'm helping. That's that.>

<Okay. Thank you. You're one of my favorite people too.>

She smiles and gives me a wink, <I know.>

I just roll my eyes at her in response, but then she signs, <Do you want me to call and check on her?>

I shake my head, <Let's wait until morning. I think we'll know more then.> Then, thinking about the vet reminds me of something, <How did you get her in to that vet so fast?>

<Oh, I just have connections.>

I laugh, <That's vague. Sounds like you're in the Yakuza.>

“Wahaha~”, <It really isn't that interesting. It's one of those six degrees of separation things.>

<Six degrees of…?>

<I don't know him directly but I know people who do.>

I narrow my eyes at her, trying to communicate that I want more information. It works.

Now she rolls her eyes at me, <If you have to know, the vet and the tech we saw are Akane's best friend's husband's parents.>

I take a minute to string all these relationships together in my head.

So, that's the husband of the woman Madoka told me about. 

I nod, <I'll have to thank everyone in the chain at some point.>

By then, our barley tea is no longer cold, so I head back to the kitchen to pour some new glasses. As I do, I think about things with a smile. 

I'm one of her favorite people. That's so nice to hear. And she's finally confiding in me.

It's amazing she was so willing to drop everything for Haru and I. And help us so much. I don't know what I would have done without her today.

The only bad part is I think I'm falling even more deeply in love with her.

The next day, Shiina goes with me to check on Haru.

When the vet brings her into the examination room, she looks and sounds like her usual self. Complete with her whole range of crazy different chirps. Unfortunately, that also means she’s very anxious to be somewhere that isn’t her home.

I’m so happy when I see her that I reach out, pick her up, and hug her to my chest, prompting the usual chirps out of her. Normally she’d be super annoyed about me snuggling her on my own terms like this, but she’s clearly been through a lot, since she starts purring in my arms.

With a smile on his face, the vet starts explaining things while Shiina signs, <She has already made a full recovery. She shouldn’t have any major ill effects as long as you stick to her new treatment plan. I know it’s a lot but->

“That’s fine. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The vet nods, <Okay. You can get her new medication and food when you check out.> The vet turns to leave the room.

“Thank you, sir. I was really scared and…you definitely saved her life a-and, I couldn’t be any more thankful.”  

He turns back around and smiles at me, <It’s no problem. I was happy to help.>

After he leaves, I put Haru back down on the table as I turn to ready her carrier. When I turn around, she's purring and happily rubbing herself against a very happy Shiina.

I’m just sitting down to write the ending to my story. My rough draft is almost complete, and that’s good – because the final draft is due in about two weeks.

I take a deep breath, open my Word document, and start typing.

Anzu pleaded with Sayuri, “But…I love you. I don’t want you to go away!”

She shook her head with a blank expression, devoid of its usual effervescence, “I’m sorry. I’m starting a new job in the countryside, and I have to leave tomorrow. You’ve already completed your studies. You no longer have need of me.”

She turned away coldly. In that moment, Anzu thought her heart might explode if she let her leave. So she did the only thing she could.

She rushed up to Sayuri and hugged her around the waist from behind. The older woman stopped in her tracks.

Tears ran down her face as Anzu said, “P-please…why are you treating me like this? You told me you loved me. W-we’ve…made love. And now you want to leave me? What did I do wrong?”

Sayuri sighed. She turned around and placed her hand on the cheek of her former lover.  “I heard you’re getting married to Count Ishijo in the Spring. Is it true?”

Anzu bit her lip as her tears continued to flow, “I-it is true. But only because I have to for my family.”

Sayuri moved away from Anzu and with acid in her voice she asked, “So…who is really leaving whom?”

“I'm not leaving you! I want to bring you with me. As my teacher. And adviser. And also…much more.” Anzu stumbled forward, and gripped Anzu's kimono sleeve, “Please, Sayuri. I don’t want to be without you.”

Sayuri looked down at the ground, where her tears started to gather, “I'm sorry. I can't. If your husband o-or anyone ever found out-”

“No one will find out!”

She sighs, and places a hand on Anzu's cheek, “You can't promise that. I'm so sorry. I don't want you to get hurt, or lose your position in society because of me. This…has to be goodbye. It breaks my heart to say. Because I love you very much. But that's how it is.”

Anzu wanted to fight back. She wanted to argue with Sayuri like in the earliest days of their relationship. Tell her she's being an idiot. But she couldn't. For once, it was Anzu who was being naively optimistic and Sayuri who was the realist.

Being together would endanger their very lives, and Anzu didn't want anything to happen to Sayuri.

Anzu gathered herself, and wiped away her tears on her kimono sleeve, “Y-you're right.” She took Sayuri's hand in hers, "But…will you stay with me one more night?”

Sayuri briefly hesitated, but then she nodded. Anzu took her hand, and they took a seat at the table where they have shared many cups of tea over the last several months.

There was silence as Anzu thought for a few minutes. She wanted to tell Sayuri what she meant to her. But she had to gather her thoughts. She was thankful that Sayuri was being so patient. Once she felt she had formulated everything she wanted to say. She locked eyes with the woman that she loved.

“You taught me English. Something that will help me in this changing world of ours. But it's how you taught me to look at the world that I'll always remember. Before I met you…I had a negative outlook about everything. My world was gray.  But now I can see color. You helped me come out of my shell and be a real person. I'll always, always love you.”

Sayuri smiled at Anzu and took her hand, “I'm so honored by your love. And to know I helped you. You're a beautiful, bright, kind-hearted woman and the whole world deserves you. Rest assured, for the rest of my life, you won't be far from my mind.”

Sayuri and Anzu, now both in tears, embraced each other for the final time. Both wishing that their time together could stretch on forever.

FIN

After saving the file, I close my laptop and wipe away my tears. I know I wrote these characters and they aren’t real people. But I still hurt for them.  It sucks to give them such a sad ending, but it's realistic. I think having them be together in the shadows would be even worse than the ending I wrote.

What matters is that their love will endure in their hearts, even if they can't be together. And they both changed one another for the better.

I wish I had the kind of courage that Anzu does. Even in a world where she could be killed just because of who she loves, she told Sayuri her feelings. And they had a relationship while they could.

I don't even have that kind of courage in modern Japan. That's probably why I wrote her that way.

Chapter Text

I just woke up with butterflies in my stomach. As I get out of bed and look out my window, I see the trees starting to change to yellow. It's certainly an early fall scene.

And it's a very special day, because the book with my story in it hits the shelves today. I'm very excited about that. Also a little nervous, because it means my mom is finally going to find out about my feelings for Shiina.

The publisher sent me a few copies, and I'll give one to her and tell her everything tonight after dinner. Or maybe I'll let her read it first. Either way, it will be nice telling someone about my feelings.

Shiina and I have continued spending time together one or two times a week. Sometimes at the cafe, sometimes she comes over to the apartment. It's been really nice. 

Between spending time with her and Madoka, I've somehow become more social since losing the ability to understand speech. Of course, that bar was pretty freaking low. 

I'm actually going to the cafe with Shiina this evening. As always, I'm very excited to see her.

…

Shiina and I are at the cafe. After our usual greetings, she says something I didn't expect at all.

<So, your story came out today->

Oh. God.

I interrupt her, <How do you know about that?>

<Your mom.>

Shit. Shit shit shit.

<Yeah. It did come out. But you don't need to read it or anything. I'm sure you're really, really busy! In fact, you should definitely not read it ever !>

Shiina just smiles at me even though I'm self-destructing in a big way. Her smile seems a little different than usual somehow. But I can't put my finger on it.

She scratches her cheek for a moment and then tentatively signs, <I…already read it. I had the day off. So I went and got it this morning.>

I'm so overwhelmed by what she said that I am at a loss for words. I can't form them. Not with my mouth or my hands. Everything around me feels hazy.

If she read it, then…she knows…

I get vivid flashes of a terrible memory of mine - a girl calling me disgusting and throwing torn shreds of paper at me. 

I feel tears welling up. And I have a terrible feeling in my stomach. A mixture of nausea, panic, and abject fear.

My body and my mind are telling me to do one thing. And I have to listen. I have to protect myself.

Run!

I get up and leave the cafe without saying or signing another word to Shiina, making my way back to our apartment as fast as I can. 

Once home, I feel relieved to be back in the safety of my apartment. I lean against the door with an exhausted sigh. But then I hear my mom making dinner, and the feelings from before convert into hot, boiling rage.

I clench my fists and head to the kitchen to scream at her, “WHY DID YOU TELL HER ABOUT MY STORY!?”

My startled mother winces at my raised voice, <Calm down.>

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!? THIS IS LIKE MIDDLE SCHOOL ALL OVER AGAIN! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?”

My legs get weak, so I fall to my knees and sob, much to my embarrassment. My mom gets on her knees and tries to hug me. I resist at first, slapping her hands away, because I feel too angry to let her touch me. But she keeps trying and I eventually let her. As I cry in my mother's arms, I remember the last time a girl found out I wrote something about her.

…

I had a really big crush on the girl who sat in front of me in middle school. Her name was Mako. She was always very nice to me. And basically no one was nice to me. Not to the weird tomboy in the corner who rarely spoke to anyone. But she always asked me how I was doing, and what I did over the weekend. She even defended me from bullies a few times. She made me feel normal.

Mako had such a cute face. And long, fluffy black hair. She had light brown eyes that were almost…golden.

I hadn't realized they had that in common until now. 

The moment I met her was when I first realized I was gay. And then she was so nice to me that I couldn't help but fall for her.

That's when I first started writing. We were writing poetry in class, so I wrote…I don't know, two dozen poems about her in my notebook. Poems about how beautiful she was. Poems about how I wanted to be by her side forever. Poems about how I wanted to hold her, and stroke her hair.

I never planned to show them to her. Or anyone. They were just a way for me to express how I felt about her. To get it out. I always kept the notebook with me to make sure no one would ever see them. Little did I know, always carrying a notebook around and closely guarding it just makes people more interested in it. 

One day I wasn't careful. It was chicken karaage day in the cafeteria, and I was really excited. I left class in a hurry so I could get some before it ran out.

But in my excitement, I left my notebook behind. When I realized, I rushed back to the classroom. But I was too late. And it was worse than I could ever have imagined.

The popular girls, including Mako, always ate lunch together in the classroom. And they were reading my poems out loud and laughing. I was horrified. As I stood outside the classroom, petrified by fear, I listened to what they said about me.

“I knew she was in love with you, Mako. Didn't I tell you? That pathetic little freak wants to hold you.”

I held my breath and clenched my fists, hoping Mako would defend me. I didn't have any illusions that she would like me and declare her love for me. Why would anyone ever feel that way about me ?

But she was a nice, decent person. I at least thought she'd say that the other girls were being too mean and that they should put my notebook back.

But she didn't.

Mako sighed, “I know. You were right. I just…I didn't think girls could really like other girls. It's so… disgusting .” She made a gagging noise and then said, “I don't ever want to talk to her again. I'm going to ask the teacher to move my seat because I don't feel safe being near her. Who knows what she might try to do to me!?”

I held my breath and listened to every word. And when she finished, despite my best efforts to hold in my tears, I started sobbing in the hallway. I felt devastated and heartbroken. Not only had a secret I was ashamed of been found out. I had also lost the only person at school who was nice to me. She hated me now.

But things got even worse.

The girls heard me in the hall. So they came out into the hallway and laughed at me while hurling slurs. Mako took my notebook, tore all the pages out of it, ripped them in half, and threw them in my face while repeating what she said in the classroom.

“Don't ever talk to me again! You're disgusting!”

By the end of the day everyone at school knew I was gay. And the bullying got worse than it had ever been. Other girls left mean notes in my shoe locker. Some wrote slurs on my desk. Others pushed me in the hallways. 

Teachers didn't do anything significant to stop it. The next day, I went to one teacher I really trusted and admired and asked what I should do. To my horror, she said I brought it all on myself and that I should just ‘straighten out.’

I tried to just go to school and pretend it had never happened. But no one else was willing to do that. Every day after that was the same hell as the first day. After a few days of trying my hardest, I stopped going to school. 

I wouldn't tell my mom what happened. And she was okay with that for a while. She could tell I was really upset and let me stay home because of that.

I didn't want to tell her. I was so afraid she would react the same way as Mako or my teacher did if she knew about me. And I couldn’t survive that. Not my mom looking down on me. Not when she was the most important person in the world to me.

But one day she lured me out of my room with some hamburg steaks that she would only let me have if I ate at the dinner table with her. She even held them outside my door so I could smell them. She set up a fan to blow the smell into my room. They smelled so good that I gave in and ate dinner with her for the first time in weeks.

We ate in silence. And when I was done eating, I headed for the stairs.

“Rei-chan.”

“ What , mom? I want to get back to my room.” 

I had my foot on the first step when she said,  “I know you do. But I just…I want you to know that whatever happened at school…whatever has you so upset. You can tell me about it. When you're ready.”

“I-it isn’t really anything. I just don't want to go anymore. It’s dumb.”

My mom locked her eyes on me, and when she did I could see how exhausted she looked. And how upset and desperate she was. I knew it was because of me.

“I love you so much Rei-chan. You know you can tell me anything, and I'll still love you. No matter what it is.”

I removed my foot from the bottom stair and sat back down at the table. I started to wring my hands.

“R-really? Even if I…killed someone?”

My mom snorted, “Did you kill someone?”

“N-no. But you said-”

“I would still love you. I would also think you needed to go to jail, but I would still love you as my daughter.”

I sighed and looked down at the table, “O-okay…it's pretty bad though. Not …murder bad but…bad.”

My mom started to look worried. But then I told her everything. That I was gay. That I liked a girl in class. That people found out and I was being bullied.

By the end she looked angry. I started to think that she was going to have the reaction I was so afraid of. That she was going to yell at me for liking girls even though I can't help it.

But then she said,  “What those awful girls did is what's bad, Rei-chan. You didn't do anything wrong.”

I looked up at my mom, “R-really? You don't think…it's wrong? To be…how I am? G-gay?”

Without any hesitation, she shook her head and said, “No, I don't.”

When she told me that, I burst into relieved tears. My mom came and sat next to me and hugged me while I cried. We were already really close at this point, but now I had told her my deepest, darkest secret, and she still loved me. And she didn't think there was anything wrong with me. So we became even closer.

From then on, I did homeschooling. My mom suggested transferring schools at first, but I was just too scared. I didn't ever want to like another girl and have everyone find out. I didn't want to go through everything all over again. I didn't leave the apartment again or talk to someone other than my mother for several years.

It wasn't until university that I really went out into the world again. And even then my mom had to work very hard to convince me that it would be okay. That university would be different. And I did want to study writing, so eventually I agreed.

But I still kept everyone at arm's length. Especially girls I felt attracted to. I never wanted to like another girl again. I didn't want to feel the pain like what had happened with Mako. I didn't think I could survive it if it happened again.

And it was working.

But then…I had my accident and Ms. Mikado – Shiina – came into my life…

…

I have finally cried myself out. I sit up and my mom lets me go. I can see she has been crying too.

<I'm so sorry. I didn't know what the story was about. I haven't read it. I was just bragging. I didn't even tell her the title. She must have Googled it.>

Oh…yeah. I never let my mom see it precisely because I didn't want her to know I'm in love with Shiina. Bad move, past Reina.

I look up at my mom and she gives me a bittersweet smile, <You're in love with her? And the story is about that?>

I start to feel tears coming again, “P-pretty much, yeah. That's why it's like middle school all over again.”

My mom starts to sign something, but then shakes her head. She gets up and grabs her notebook and starts to write. After a few moments she shows me her note:

“This isn't like what happened in middle school. This is different. Shiina is a very sweet person and would never do to you what those girls did. She even has gay friends, right?”

Oh yeah. She does. If I was thinking rationally I would have realized that…Man, I really lost it there, didn't I? 

I sniffle, “Well…okay. You're right it won't be as bad. B-but…I still didn't want her to know.”

My mom signs, <Why?>

 “Because…even if she's fine with gay people, it doesn't mean she wants a mousy little tomboy shut-in fawning over her. Or secretly writing a love story that’s clearly about the two of us. She won't want to be my friend anymore.”

<She read your story and still met with you. I think she still wants to be your friend.>

“O-oh. I…guess that's true. As soon as she said she read it I just…ran away. I couldn't help it.”

My mom grimaces, <I'm sorry. I should have checked with you before I told her.>

I sigh, “It's okay. It's all my fault. I chose to write something that is so obviously about us. And I chose to hide it from you. If I had let you read it, this wouldn't have happened.”

She nods, <I still think things will be okay between you two.>

I nod, “I think maybe you're right ” I sigh and stand up, “I'll…talk to her about it. But not today.”

…

The next morning when I wake up and look at my phone, I notice I have a text from Misha. It's only one simple sentence and no smiley faces.

“I hope you're doing okay.”

I sigh and respond, “I am. My mom helped. I'm sorry I left how I did. I freaked out because of…some personal stuff.” 

She responds almost immediately, “It's okay. :)”

“Can we meet again? I won't run away this time. I promise. I want to explain things.”

…

Later that afternoon, Shiina comes to the apartment.

To my surprise, she hugs me when she walks through the door. And it's a long hug. I enjoy the feeling of our bodies being so close, as well as her usual floral scent.

We sit down on the couch together, and I tell her everything that happened to me in middle school. She listens intently, and looks angry by the end. 

<I can see why the situation reminded you of that.> She smiles mischievously, <I'm gonna go back in time and punch those girls.>  She punches the air playfully.

I laugh, <I didn't know you were the kind of girl who beat up 13-year-olds.>

She winks, <Only when they deserve it!>  She punctuates her sentence with a loud, “Wahaha!”

I laugh with her, but when I come out of it, I notice she looks very serious. And a little nervous.

<Is it okay if I ask you some questions about the story? It's okay if you'd rather wait until another time.>

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before nodding.

I know what she wants to ask. And she deserves to know.

<Is it based on us?>

I take another deep breath and nod.

She tilts her head,<Is it really how you feel? Or is it just a story? Like…are the things Anzu thinks and says about Sayuri…are they how you feel about me ?>

I look away, embarassed, <Yes. Almost exactly.>

She tilts her head a little further, <You really thought I was beautiful the moment we met?>

I give her a bashful nod as I feel my face heat up. She smiles, and I think I see her cheeks flush a little.

She narrows her eyes <But you also thought I was an annoying airhead?>

I nod.

She laughs, <But then you realized you were wrong?>

I laugh, “Yes.”

<Do you really feel like I helped you see the world in color?>

<Yes. Like I said…it's almost all exactly the same as how I feel.>

She taps her fingers on the couch for a moment, as if she's not sure what to ask next. Or whether she should ask it. But then she nods her head, looking resolved. She locks eyes with me as she signs,  <Are you in love with me?>

<Yes. I am. I'm sorry. And I'm especially sorry for writing that story without your permission.>

She smiles and shakes her head with her hand to her chest, <Don't be sorry. It was a really beautiful love story. It really moved me. Even if you made the character based on me really annoying sometimes.>

I laugh, <Sorry.>

<Stop apologizing! It's beautiful to love someone. And the way you expressed it in your story. Well…it's pretty much the best confession anyone could ever receive…>

<Thank you. I'm glad you're not upset.>

<Nope! Not upset at all.> She pauses and then fidgets for a moment before she asks, <Do you want to go out with me?>

My jaw drops and she giggles. I pull myself together and sign, <I can't tell if you're making fun of me or not.>

<I'm not.> She points at her face and puffs out her cheeks. <This is my serious face.>

<It doesn't look very serious. Are you even gay?>

She laughs, <1000%.>

I cross my arms and study her before signing, <I don't know…>

She scoffs, <I am! I am! I am! I've had lots of girlfriends. And slept with-> She stops signing. Her face flushes and she looks away. I’m pretty sure my face just turned bright red too.

She really is gay. Wow. I mean it's surprising. But not as surprising as…

<You…you like me? Why?>

She nods, <I just think…we really connect with one another. I can’t explain it.>

I laugh wryly, <You’ll have to do better than that.>

She chews on her lip for a minute, <I said I can’t explain it!>

<Try.>

She sighs, and thinks for a minute, <Okay, well…I’ll tell you how I feel about you. Does that work?>

I nod.

<Well…first, I got closer to you than I ever have to a student. So close that I had to pull back sometimes.>

<That’s news to me.>

She laughs, <That’s because I held back! I had to talk to Akane about it because I almost crossed a line a few times.>

<Examples, please.>

She scoffs, <I almost invited you over to my place when we made that meal for your mom. And every single time you tried to get me to talk when I was upset, my instinct was to talk to you. And I wanted to text you pretty much every single day, but had to stop myself.>

I think back to all her examples, and realize that they add up.

<Wow.>

She smiles, <I hadn’t really thought of you romantically. But…that changed after I read the story.>

Ah…now it makes sense.

I sit silently, unsure how to respond.

<Oh, and you’re super cute, too! Or…handsome, if you prefer.>

Her compliments bring me out of my stupor, <Now I know you're making fun of me.>

She frowns, <Why do you think that?>

I switch to speech to make sure I get my point across, “It doesn't add up. Maybe I wrote some pretty words that made you feel a little something for me. But…you’re beautiful, fashionable, bubbly and fun. And I’m a mousy tomboy with crippling anxiety and a putrid personality. You’re just…mistaken about your feelings. You said yourself you didn’t feel that way until you read the story.”

She looks sad as she shakes her head, <Is this because of those girls too?>

I shake my head, <I just know what I am. And I know what you are. And I know we don’t go together as more than friends. There's a reason that story is fiction. Someone like me doesn't find love.>

She looks equal parts angry and sad, with no smile to be found. Then, the angry side wins out. She knits her eyebrows and clenches her jaw as she signs, <You think I'm so stupid I don't know my own feelings?>

<That’s not what I->

<It’s what you said, Rei-kun. That I read your pretty words and I'm so stupid that they tricked me into liking you.>

I sigh, trying to think of a way to dig myself out of this hole. 

She isn't stupid. I don't think that. But I DO think she's emotional and wrapped up in the story. That's the only thing that makes sense. Because no one would want to be with me.

I have a feeling if I told her that, things would get even worse, though. So, I stay silent. As I do, I see the anger fade from her face.

<I know how I feel. And I also know you deserve to find love. Why wouldn't you?>

All I do is shake my head at her.

She shakes her head back, some of the anger from earlier flickering on her face.

<Will you at least talk with me about it?>

<I told you how I feel. That's all I have to say.>

She stands up and looks down at me. I look away. She walks off in a huff, and I hear the apartment door open and close. 

I breathe a sigh of relief now that she's gone.

She just needs some time to think. Then she'll realize that I'm right.

Chapter Text

My mom just got home from work. The first thing she asked about was Shiina, since she knew we were meeting today.

So, I just told her everything that happened with her. To say she is annoyed with me would be an understatement.

Her eyes are practically popping out of her head as she aggressively signs, <So, she likes you too. And you…rejected her!?>

I shrug, <Kind of, I guess.>

She throws her arms up in frustration before signing, <But you love her!>

<I do. But I don't want to be with her.>

My mom looks dumbfounded, <Huh? Why? How? What?>

I sigh dramatically and then switch to speech, as this is complex enough and important enough that I want to make sure she understands.

“Mom. She's too good for me. I'll just get hurt when she realizes.”

<That’s ridiculous. She's a great girl but so are you!>

“I'm not meant to be with someone.”

<What does that even mean?>

“It means…I don't bring anything to the table. I'm an anxious wreck. I don't like going out. I'm terrible at talking to people. I'm a jerk. I'm just going to make her life worse . And I want her to be who she is. That's who I love. Not some version of her weighed down by her fucked up girlfriend.”

My mom frowns, <I thought that might be what you'd say.> She shakes her head, <Why do you always do this? Why do you think so little of yourself?>

I shrug, “I'm just realistic. I know what will happen.”

<You don't know unless you can see the future. And I happen to know you can't.>

“I don't need to. I just know her and I know myself. I don't want to make her life worse. And I know I would.”

My mom clicks her tongue, <That’s not true. Give her a chance and you'll find out. And hey, if it's true you aren't right for each other you can break up! But you aren’t even trying! You're just assuming the worst.>

I roll my eyes, “Can we be done with this? I get that I didn't make the decision you wanted. But it's done. And it was my decision.”

My mom clearly isn't ready to let this go. In fact, she suddenly looks like she might cry. 

<You're such an amazing girl. But you just don't see it. You never have. And I think I know why.>

I'm beyond confused by my mom's mood. And I have no idea what she means, either. 

Just before I have a chance to ask what she means, she signs, <It’s because your father left, isn't it?>

My mom's surprising question hangs over us for a long moment.

We have never even gotten close to talking about this, at least not since I was very little. I stopped asking about him about 15 years ago because I could tell my mom didn't like it when I did.

I hadn't considered this consciously before. I basically never think of the man who ditched my mom when she got pregnant with me. But…maybe my mom's right. My father choosing to leave because of me certainly doesn't make me feel good about myself.

And from the way she asked it, I think my mom has thought this was the case for a long time.

<Maybe.> I decide to use this rare opening to ask about him, <So, he just left when you got pregnant?>

My mom looks very uneasy, just like she always did when I used to ask her about my dad when I was younger. Her jaw is clenched, her eyebrows are knit, and her hands are balled into fists. Her nicely manicured nails must be doing a number on her palm. She takes a deep breath and exhales. When she starts to sign again, her hands are shaking.

<He…he…didn't leave. Not exactly.>

“What!? But that's what you always said!”

My mom nods, <I know. But it's not exactly true. I'm sorry. I didn't know what to tell you when you were little.>

I cross my arms, “So…you lied to me?”

She closes her eyes for a moment and signs, <Yes. And…you’re probably old enough to know the truth. More than old enough. Especially if that lie is hurting you.> She takes another deep breath, <Give me a minute to gather my thoughts.>

I nod, and sit in silence while my mom furrows her brow and wrings her hands together. She sniffles a few times too, but as far as I can tell she hasn’t started crying. But she must still be on the verge of tears.

I consider telling my mom she doesn’t need to tell me if it’s hurting this much. It’s truly not so important to me that I want to see her so upset. But before I can she nods, locks eyes with me and starts signing.

<My first job was working at a hostess club.>

I smile, <I can see that working for you.>

She closes her eyes and signs, <Don’t interrupt please. What I’m trying to say is hard and I just need to do it without stopping, otherwise I’ll lose my nerve.>

I was just trying to lighten this mood because this intensity is scaring me. But I guess I shouldn't. Some things are supposed to be intense.

Since her eyes are still closed, I respond verbally, “Okay, sorry.”

She opens her eyes and I see a tear fall down her cheek. She takes a deep breath, <I had some regulars, who really liked me and came almost every day. They tipped really well. I brought them drinks and flirted with them. That was the whole job.>

She pauses with her hands balled into fists in front of her, and now I notice a few more tears on her face.

<Some of them started offering me money to do…more than just flirt with them. Really, really good money. I said no at first, but they kept offering more. And I needed the money.>

She closes her eyes again and takes a deep breath, more tears fall down her cheeks. When she opens her eyes again, her hands are shaking more than ever before and her lip is trembling so much that if she were using her mouth to speak, I don’t think she would be able to.

<What I'm saying is…I was sleeping with several different men. For money. I don’t even know who your father is. I’m so sorry I lied to you for so long.> Her hands drop and she bursts into tears. She falls forward on the table and cries into her arms.

I'm certainly surprised by what I just learned. But my first instinct is to comfort my mother, who I have never once seen this upset.

I immediately get up and move to the chair next to her. I put my arms around her and pull her over to me. She cries into my chest.

She held this inside for so long.  But she didn't need to.

When she starts to calm down enough that I know she can hear me I say, “You once told me that you would love me no matter what I did. I feel the same. I love you, mom.”

She sniffles and pulls back from me so she can sign, <But it’s my fault you don't have a dad. And then I lied and made it sound like some man rejected you. And that means it's my fault you feel bad about yourself.>

I shake my head,  <I don't blame you for anything. I don't even know if that's really why I'm like this. But…it looks like you and I are doing the same thing to ourselves. You think really badly about yourself because of all this, don't you?>

She shakes her head, but it isn't very convincing.

I roll my eyes, <You just ruined your make up crying.>  She puts her hand to face to confirm my assertion and then frowns.

After thinking for a moment I say, “This is why you don't let anyone fuss over you, isn’t it? You think you wronged me and that you don’t deserve it. Or that you're a bad person or something who doesn't deserve to be treated well. But you're not. You're the best mom I could ever have. And everyone who meets you knows you're amazing too.”

My mom shakes her head and looks away from me.

It isn't much, but shaking her head about that proves she thinks badly about herself for what happened back then. I’ll just spell it out to her.

“Mom, you raised me all alone when you were barely more than a kid yourself. You worked your ass off to provide for us.  You accepted me when I came out. You've supported me through getting bullied, having mental health struggles, all of it. You learned sign language for me. You still financially support me and make all of my food and I'm almost 23. And that's just what you've done for me . I don't care how I was conceived or who my dad is. But I care about you and I love you . More than anyone. You're the best mom any one could ever have.” I take a deep breath, “And…we should...both try not to think so little of ourselves.”

My mom sits in silence as she processes everything I said. After a moment she exhales deeply and  takes my hand with a small smile, her face still tear-stained. Then she signs, <You're right. About all of it. But I'll only move on if you go on a date with Shiina.>

I can't help but laugh at the jarring tonal shift. But it's cathartic. The woman still has tear stains on her face. Her voice is raw from crying. But now that my mom is on me about this again, I know she's feeling a little better.

<I will. If she still wants to. This conversation helped me decide that. I'm doing the same thing I'm scolding you for. I'm not letting myself have things because I think I don't deserve them. But I should try. If Shiina says she likes me then…then I’ll go out with her.>

My mom claps happily and hugs me. 

As I hug her back, I realize it feels really good to have helped her for once.

The next morning when I wake up, I grab my phone, hoping to have a text from Shiina. I do most mornings since we became friends. But I don't have one today. I'm not sure what I expected after being kind of a jerk yesterday. 

I consider texting her for a moment, but I shake my head at myself.

Maybe she doesn't even want to talk to me. I don't want to bother her.

I am surprised when I see that I have a text from someone else though – Madoka. We don't text much other than arranging times to meet at the cafe.

“Hey, how are you?”

I reply, “I'm okay. You?”

“I'm good. I heard what happened with Misha.”

I sigh loudly to myself. I should have known the word would get out in my shockingly small social circle. But I really don't want to talk about it. She's probably just gathering intel for Shiina anyway.

I decide to just ignore her for now. As I'm about to set my phone down, it vibrates with a new message from her.

“I get it if you don’t want to talk. But I just wanted to say I'm here for you, if you do. And I also support you. Do what's best for you…is all I wanted to say. Okay, I'll shut up now.”

I smile as I read her text. She really is my friend, if she's saying that.

I reply with a “Thank you. I'll talk to you about it soonish.”

Now feeling new motivation to reach out to Shiina, I lay back down and start texting her.

“Good morning. I'm sorry for trying to tell you how you felt yesterday. And for refusing to talk to you about us. It wasn't fair of me.”

I read it over once and hit send. Just as I'm about to get up, my phone vibrates in my hand. I have a text from her.

“Whatever.”

I blink several times at the uncharacteristic response. This is the shortest and least animated she's ever been with me. In person, in text message, or otherwise.

Well…I guess that's it then. My next story should be about how to make a girl go from  confessing to hating you in half a day.

Step 1: Call her stupid.

Step 2: Refuse to talk to her.

Okay, it would be a pretty short book.

I let out a wry laugh, set my phone down, sigh, and take my glasses off and rub my eyes. As I do, I hear my phone vibrate. I put my glasses back on quickly.

“By the way, if one of us is an airhead, it's you. Get it right in your next story.”

I let out a relieved laugh. Sure, she's insulting me. Which is not very Shiina-like, but at least she's talking to me. 

“Okay. I will. It wouldn’t be believable though. Anzu would have to be the biggest airhead who ever lived to reject Sayuri.”

“THAT'S for sure. Sayuri is so beautiful.”

I laugh again, glad that she's playing along with this.

“She really is. The most beautiful girl in the world, I think. I especially like her golden eyes.”

“Wait, doesn't she have dark eyes?”

I sigh to myself. 

Okay, she wasn't getting it after all. Maybe she IS a bit of an airhead. But…I love that part of her too.

“Nope. The most beautiful girl in the world has golden eyes, wears her light brown hair in a shaggy bob that frames her pretty face, always wears a heart barette, and has a really cute laugh.”

Her immediate response is a million blushing emojis, making me laugh.

“I really am sorry I tried to tell you how you feel. And I was an idiot to turn you down. I'm the dumb one. If you still want to go out with me, in spite of my stupidity, I would love to go out with you.”

“Jeez, you really are good with words. I really want to say yes. But I think we need to talk it out in person first.”

It's the next day. Shiina is coming by the apartment after she finishes with her student for the day. I haven't been very productive myself. I wanted to brainstorm some new story ideas, but I can't focus.

I am encouraged that she wants to meet. And I want to date her. But I'm also really scared in so many ways.

Scared she'll reject me now that she knows I'm even more damaged than she thought.

But also scared she won't reject me and that we'll get together and then I really will hurt her. Or she'll hurt me.

Also scared of the whole idea of dating. I've never even gotten close to that world. My writing is the closest I've been. 

My phone alarm goes off, and I'm thankful for the distraction. It's time to check Haru's blood sugar. 

I grab her diabetes-friendly treats, the lancets and the blood glucose monitor, and head upstairs to my bedroom. 

It's taken some getting used to for both of us, but now this is a pretty routine process. 

When I enter the room, she stands up on the bed and gives me an excited chirp. I shake the treat bag and she sits down and gives me a demanding meow. I chuckle at her and sit down next to her. 

I pet her a few times and put a couple of treats in front of her. When she starts munching on them, I gently fold her ear back, and place the lancet over her bare skin and hit the button.  A tiny needle shoots out and pricks her ear, drawing some blood. Haru doesn't even respond, which always surprises me. I guess cats don't have a ton of feeling in their ears.

Then I get a test strip out and put it in the blood sugar monitor. I put some of Haru's blood on it, and wait for the number to display. 

The number 140 shows on the screen, along with a green light to let me know that's a good level. I'm relieved, because giving her insulin is more of an ordeal and she's not the biggest fan. I've had to do it about twice a week, and it involves a much bigger needle jabbing into her skin behind her shoulders. She definitely feels it, and is never very happy with me afterwards.

For the most part, though, her new food seems to be keeping her blood sugar at a good level. 

After she finishes her treats, she rubs up against me before laying down in my lap.

I smile down at her, as she purrs happily. 

My mom got me Haru not long after I stopped going to school. And since I was always home, the two of us quickly became very close. I actually feel even closer to her now that she's got health problems, just because I can relate. 

Her life suddenly changed one day because of her health. Just like mine. And now she has these new limitations. And she was even in a coma.

But we're both doing our best and things are going just fine. 

There's a knock on the door, and Haru bolts upright and hides under my bed.

I laugh, “It's only Shiina. You like her! Scaredy cat.”

Although, perhaps she could sense how rapidly my heart just started beating.

Of course, she doesn't understand that I'm teasing her, and she remains under the bed.

…

Shiina and I are sitting on the couch together. We made some small talk, but now there's an awkward silence.

When she came in today, she didn't give me a long hug like she did last time we talked. Just a smile, and now she seems very guarded. I can guess what she wants to talk about, but I'm also not sure I should assume. So I'm just waiting for her to get the ball rolling.

Although, if we sit around awkwardly like this for much longer I might have to do something.

Just as I'm considering how to bring up the topic she asks, <It’s okay if I ask questions today?>

I nod, <Yes. I won't shut down like the other day.>

Probably. 

She nods and narrows her eyes, <Can you explain what you meant when you said you aren't meant to be with someone?>

Straight to the point. I guess it's good to get it out of the way. After all, why would she want to be with someone who doesn't think they deserve love?

I shift in my chair, <I just…have always had a low opinion about myself.  And then the bullying didn't help.>

Shiina nods, clearly wanting me to divulge some more.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. 

I just have to tell her. Be completely honest.

<A long time ago I decided that I wouldn't ever try to find a partner. I felt like…my mental health, my antisocial nature…just meant it wasn't for me. I didn't want to make someone else deal with my issues.>

Shiina furrows her brow for a moment, <So you don't feel that way anymore? What changed?>

<I just had a really candid talk with my mom about all of it. And it encouraged me to try to move past it.>

I reach my arm out, then jerk it back awkwardly before reaching it out again and placing it on her hand, “I’m going to try my hardest not to think that way. That's…all I can say. I can't promise it won't ever come up again. So I understand if you-”

She moves her hand out from under mine, making my heart sink. I knew it might not be enough. But at least I was honest. I'm not magically going to have a super positive self-image. All I can do is try my best.

But then, she gives me the warm smile I haven't seen much of lately and she starts to sign.

<I'm not perfect either, you know.> Her smile becomes more of a smirk, <I'm a bit of an airhead, after all.>

I laugh and she continues, <We both have our flaws. But so does any couple. And air heads and anxious people deserve love too, okay!>

<You're right.>

Now she's absolutely beaming. She asks the same thing she asked a few days ago, <Will you want to go out with me?>

Her smile alone makes me feel warm in my chest, <Yes. I want to. Very much.>

Somehow her smile gets even brighter, <Saturday night. My place. I'm making you dinner. Okay?>

I nod, with a tempest of anxiety and excitement swirling in my stomach.

<Thank you for giving me another chance.>

She takes my hand in hers. I notice there's just a hint of pink on her cheeks.

She gives my hand a squeeze and lets go so she can sign, <I think we both would have really regretted not taking a chance on each other. I know I would have. I think there's a chance for us to be something…really special.> She gives me a playful wink, <As long as you promise not to get married to Count Ishijo.>

I laugh and shake my head at her joke. She knows my story so well. More importantly, she knows me so well. The real me. And she still wants to be with me.

The happiness I feel right now…just might be the best feeling in the world.

I just hope I don't mess it up.

Chapter Text

<We should go shopping!>

I just got home and told my mom the news about my date with Shiina. After jumping around victoriously all over the living room, she has settled down and now seems to be plotting something. 

<I hate shopping.>

She rolls her eyes, <I know. But we can get you some new clothes.>

<Can we afford that?>

She rolls her eyes, <It’s my daughter's first date. It’s very exciting. I'll find room in the budget.>

I look down at the tattered black hoodie that is one of two almost identical black hoodies I have worn every single time I’ve been around Shiina.

I probably SHOULD get a new outfit for this. If I show up in what I always wear, she won't think I'm trying. And I do want to try.

<Fine. But you know I'm not trying on anything girly, right?>

My mother scoffs, <Of course I do. Give me more credit as your mother. When's the last time I tried to get you to wear a dress or skirt?>

<I dunno. 10 years?>

<Exactly. We'll stay with the kind of clothes you like. But there are clothes other than hoodies, sweetie. And…maybe we can get you some contacts?>

I sigh. This is quickly sounding really annoying. I pointedly push them up my nose, <You don't like my glasses?>

My mom shrugs, <They’re fine. But don’t you want her to see a different side of you?>

This is such a new sensation. I actually really care about how I look for the first time in…ever, maybe? It's stressful.

I do want this date to go well. And my mom knows more about this kind of thing than I do. She looks like she's going on a first date every day of her life. Meanwhile, I eternally look like I just woke up from a nap.

I grumble, “I guess so. F-fine.”

<We can get you a haircut too. Yay!> She claps her hands excitedly.

I have cut my own hair since middle school. I don't style it or anything. Just cut it enough to stay out of my eyes. My mom's been trying to get me to get a real haircut for a long time. 

This time, she's going to win.

I sigh, <At this point, it's sounding like a makeover.>

<That’s because it is!>

What have I gotten myself into?  I probably need this. But I wish this could all be over after a three minute montage, like in the movies.

It’s the next day. My mom and I are out shopping for my date with Shiina. My mom is beyond excited. I've found myself enjoying it more than I expected. Now that I actually care how I look, the possibilities are kind of exciting.

My mom and I are in the dressing room. I'm currently wearing a flannel shirt over a t-shirt, and I think I like it. These layered looks still make me feel casual, safe, and cozy, but it's several steps above wearing a tattered old hoodie when it comes to aesthetics. 

“I like this. Maybe more button up shirts like this?”

My mom's been wearing a smile all day. She nods and heads out to find me more shirts.

After she returns, I try on some others and feel really good about them. But then I notice my mom is studying me thoughtfully.

“You don't like this one?”

<I do. But…well, maybe it’s weird for your mom to say->

<Then don't say it!>

She ignores me, <We Kato women have great rear ends.>

I feel my face flush immediately and I prepare to berate my mom for saying something so weird.

<Sorry, but it's just a fact! I'm just saying…some tighter, high-waisted jeans would really accentuate that feature.>

I sigh, feeling defeated, but also curious, “F-fine.”

My mom runs off excitedly, as I look at my butt in the mirror. It's honestly not something I've ever really done before. For about the tenth time today, I realize I haven't ever cared very much whether I look attractive to people, but that has definitely changed. 

I guess my butt is kind of nice. It's like…plump and soft.  But not too plump. And it has a nice peach shape. It sticks out more than my boobs, that's for sure. But I'm kind of glad, because I like wearing guy's clothes anyway. This button-up shirt wouldn't work as well if I had big boobs.

My mom returns with a pair of jeans to try on, and when I put them on, I see what she meant. The high waist makes my waist look smaller, which makes my butt even more prominent. They aren't the most comfortable jeans ever but…for once comfort isn't the number one thing on my mind when choosing an outfit.

I want Shiina to like my butt.

God, I can't believe I just thought that.

I look at my mom, “Thank you. They look good.”

My mom looks me up and down and nods, <I agree. Your outfit is perfect. It's still very you but…sexier, you know?>

I sigh and shake my head, <I guess so. But you're saying weird stuff for a mom again.>

She giggles, <Sorry.>

…

The next stop is my hair cut. I feel kind of like a child, having my mom with me when I'm so old. But the truth is this would be doable, but much more challenging without her as an interpreter.

I'm sitting in the chair now, while my mom and the stylist are chatting to my side. No doubt my mom is explaining the situation.

The stylist has short hair too, which puts me at ease about what she might want to do. Her hair is way prettier than mine though. It's short but also fluffy and wavy. The back and sides are shorter, and the top is brushed back. 

Then, the stylist turns to me with a smile. She says, “Bzbzbzjbz.” My mom starts signing, but I don't look at her because I think I understood. From the context, the few words I lipread, and her hand gestures, I figure out that she said, “Is it okay if I touch your hair?”

“Y-yeah, go ahead.”

She nods, and starts feeling and touching my hair. Nodding to herself as she does. It makes me feel a little uncomfortable. She says something else, but this time I don't see her lips because she's behind me. I look to my mom, who translates.

<She says your hair would hold volume really well.>

I'm not 100% sure what volume even is, but-

“C-can short hair have volume?”

She nods, and then gestures to her own hair with a smile.

“C-can my hair actually look like that ? It looks so good.”

She laughs and gives me a nod.

How lame would it be if I asked for the same hair cut?

My mom smiles, <Do you want it like hers?>

I nod bashfully while my mom relays the information. It’s a little less embarrassing when I don't have to actually say the words.

…

My hair cut is finished, and I'm more than a little amazed that this is really my hair. It's got so much more texture and personality now. The shorter back and sides really make the top look very voluminous. We ended up deciding to part mine to the side, instead of brushing it back like hers.

The stylist looks very proud of her work, and I don't blame her.

I'm able to read her lips when she asks, “What do you think?”

“Wh-what is this hair cut called?”

She says something I can't understand, and my mom slowly fingerspells, “Parted…undercut.”

I nod to her, “Thank you. I really like it.”

She nods and looks completely overjoyed by my response. This lady is almost as excited as my mom about this. My hair must have looked really bad.

My mom translates as she says, <It looks great on you. Come back any time.>

…

My mom and I are at the cafe, just having a snack and some coffee before we head home.

That was the plan, anyway. As often happens when she tries to come here as a customer, she ended up helping her employees who are dealing with a rush.

However, as she's heading back to our table now that things have died down, she stops to talk to someone. Not a coworker, but a customer who is seated. He gestures to her, making it clear he would like it if she sat with him. My mother politely says no and points in my direction, but then the two start chatting. They both have big smiles and laugh together several times. I realize I've seen her laughing and smiling with this man before, back during the first field trip.

He's a well put together man in his 40s. At first I thought he was a salaryman, but now that I look at him more closely, he has a more relaxed and less stuffy vibe. He's wearing a navy blue blazer but no tie, and he has longer hair than you see on most men from his generation, hanging almost to his shoulders. 

I find myself smiling as I watch them talk, because my mom looks like she's having a nice time. Eventually though, their conversation ends, and she comes back to our table.

When she greets me, I respond with only a smile. It makes her uneasy.

<What?>

<You like that man, don't you?>

She turns bright red, confirming my suspicions.

<Stop! He's right there.>

<And what, he'll hear us?>

My mom laughs, <No. But it’s awkward.> She sighs, <I'll talk about him. But wait until we get home.>

…

We just walked in the door of her apartment. Unable to contain myself anymore, I blurt out, "Romance is one of those things you weren't letting yourself have, isn't it? I mean…you haven't had a boyfriend or anything my whole life.”

She nods, <When I got pregnant with you, I told myself I would just focus on you. And do everything I could to give you a great life.>

“Mom…thank you, but-”

<I know. I took it way too far. That's what I realized recently.>

I nod, relieved that she's trying to change.

<I've just been so focused on the cafe and being a mom for so long that…I kind of neglected that part of myself. I mean, men have asked me out before->

I laugh, “Of course they have. It's that Kato family butt.”

My mom laughs, looking pleasantly surprised I'm bringing that up. I'm a little surprised too, but I knew it would cheer her up.

<Anyway, I've never really wanted to say yes to any of them. That guy - Kaz - has been a regular at the cafe for a long time. He asked me out once about a year ago, and I considered it for a while, but said ‘no’ to him too.>

I take my mom's hand, “Well…you should consider it more if you like him. You deserve love too. Just like me. And I know I'm a mess-”.

She clicks her tongue in protest.

“-but I'll be okay if you spend more time dating and stuff.”

My mom sighs and then nods, <You're right. It's scary but…I should put myself out there more. Try it, at least. After all…you are.>

I nod, “And I can even give you a makeover! I'll cut your hair.”

My mom laughs and rolls her eyes, <Speaking of, why don't you try on a few of those outfits with the new haircut? We can choose which one is best for your date.>

I sigh, feigning annoyance. But the truth is I'm pretty anxious about what I should go with, and her input will help.

…

We ended up choosing the flannel, t-shirt, and high-waisted jeans.

My mom asks, <So, what do you think, now that you have the outfit and the new haircut together?>

I look at myself in the mirror and what I see is a little startling. For the first time since I can remember…

Art by  Lucio Neru

“I really like how I look. Thank you, mom.”

My mom hugs me from behind and says something I can't understand, but it's not hard to figure out that she's saying ‘you're welcome’ and ‘I love you.’

I'm standing in front of Shiina's apartment door. My heart is beating so fast and hard that I can feel it in my head. But it isn't like it usually is, when my heart does this. There are some positive feelings mixed in with the anxiety. I'm excited. Really excited. 

I take a deep breath and knock on the door.

She opens the door and looks me up and down several times and then signs, <Wow!>

I laugh nervously, <Is that a good ‘wow?’>

She smiles and nods energetically, <A very good wow.>

In an instant, she says, <Come in,> and takes my hand and jerks me inside before I have a chance to do it myself. She leads me by the hand without letting me even get my bearings or look around. 

Before I know it, we're in the kitchen.

She places me in front of a cutting board with a very familiar vegetable on it.

Scallions.

<Chop those up for me.>

“Wh-what!?”

She grins, <I know you understand sign language. I taught you, remember?>

Only now do I notice that she's dressed a little bit differently than usual too. I have really only seen her in her work outfits, and what she's wearing now definitely isn't one she would wear to teach. I've never seen so much of her skin.

She has on a pink pleated skirt that goes just below her knees and a white top that has a plunging neckline, showing more than a hint of cleavage. She looks so good that I find myself staring. After a moment, I panic and pull my eyes away from her chest. When I look up at her face, she thankfully doesn't seem to have noticed my lingering eyes.

For some reason, I blurt out, “You look really nice!”

This gets a cute “Wahaha~” and a wink out of her, and then she signs, <Thank you. Flattery won't save you from the scallions, though.>

Oh man. I completely forgot I was standing in front of this cutting board. She has me all out of sorts.

As I look down at the scallions and the knife, I try to pull myself together. 

Wait a minute…

<Are you punishing me for when I was rude about scallions?>

She winks, <’Punishing’ is such a strong word!>

I narrow my eyes, <You're not really denying it, though.>

She laughs, <I remembered you really liked it when I made negimaki, so I decided to make it for you again.> She puffs out her cheeks and pouts, <I just thought it would be fun to make it together.>

Oh man. That pout makes me want to do anything for her. I'm in trouble here.

Her pout turns into a mischievous grin, <But yes, I did decide you should chop the scallions because of what you said that day.>

<Fair enough. Will you show me how?>

She nods and then comes to my side and puts the knife in my hand, and then guides it over the scallions. Then she presses down on my hand holding the knife, and it cuts about a 6 centimeter piece.

Somehow I thought it would be more complicated than…literally just cutting them. But I guess it’s pretty straightforward.

“Okay. I can do that.”

She gives my hand a little squeeze and then gets out another cutting board next to me. She puts some steak on it, which she starts cutting into thin strips. It's a small kitchen, so we're almost shoulder to shoulder.

She can't really communicate with me while her hands are busy, but she looks over at me and gives me an encouraging nod every now and then. I find I really like doing this next to her. This little kitchen and the sounds of our knives on the cutting boards feels like the whole world, for just a moment.

After we both finish, she shows me how to assemble each negimaki. You take a piece of scallion and put it on the strip of meat, and then roll the meat around the scallion. We make 8 of them.

Once again, this is much easier than I imagined.

<Time to cook them!>

Okay, surely this part will be hard.

Shiina gets out a pan and puts some sesame oil in it. It warms up a little. Then she puts the negimaki in it, and covers the pan.

<Now we wait.>

<That’s it?>

She shrugs, <Mostly. A couple more little steps. Not complicated enough for you?>

I laugh, <I dunno. Everything was simpler than I expected.>

She nudges me with her hip and gives me a wink, <It’s because I'm such a good teacher.>

I laugh, <That's true.>

After a few minutes, she uncovers the negimaki and turns them over. As she watches them, she guides me through mixing mirin and soy sauce together. Then, we pour that mixture into the pan.

Just then, her rice cooker chimes and she puts two servings on plates. Not long after that, the negimaki are done and we sit down to eat together.

As I enjoy the delicious pepperiness of the scallions along with the marinated meat, I'm transported back to the last time I had this meal, and I feel pretty embarrassed.

<I am sorry I was such a jerk the first time you made this.>

She smiles, <That’s okay. You tried it for me in the end. And you liked it! Your mom said that's more than she could ever get you to try.>

I feel my cheeks flush when I realize how childish the truth sounds.

Shiina taps her fingers on the table a few times and narrows her eyes, <I've been wondering…when did you first know you had feelings for me? Like, is that why you tried the negimaki that day?>

I shake my head, <I did feel bad because I hurt your feelings, but I wasn't in love with you yet.>

<So, when?>

<When you were upset, but wouldn't talk to me about it. That's when I realized that I cared so much about you.>

She frowns, <I'll apologize for being a jerk this time.>

I laugh, <I think we've both forgiven one another. Since we're on a date and all.>

She beams at me, <Yes, we sure are.> She rests her chin on her hand and gazes at me across the table for a long moment, with an expression I don't quite recognize. She does it for so long that I start to feel nervous.

Finally, she breaks the silence, <I really like hoodie Rei-kun. But it’s nice seeing you in something else. And I love the hair. A lot. You did that all for me?>

Now my face is absolutely burning. So much that the only way I can respond is with a flustered nod.

She's still gazing at me with the same look. I guess I'd describe it as…happy, maybe? But there's a different air to it. She also seems very relaxed and…content in all things.

There's two things I know for sure, though. No one's ever looked at me that way before, and I like it when she looks at me that way.

<Well, I appreciate it.>

<I…really like your outfit too.>

She smiles, <I know, I saw you staring when you got here.>

I swallow so hard there's an audible gulp sound. At least…audible to me. And I've been blushing for so long now that my face is numb.

<Sorry.>

She smiles, <Don't be. You can look. Just like you dressed like that for me, I dressed like this for you.> She juts her chest out and gives me a look that says, ‘Go ahead, look.’

I find my eyes drifting to her chest again. But then I get embarrassed and look away.

She giggles and lets out what I can only describe as a contented sigh, and then stands up. <Let's do the dishes. Then we'll watch a movie.>

While we're cleaning up, Shiina's cell phone starts ringing. I'm closer to it, so I hand it to her. She looks at the display and frowns, <It's my dad.>

<Isn't it good that he's reaching out?>

She shrugs, <Hard to say. He might just be calling to yell at me.> 

I want to tell her that she should answer, that maybe it would be good to talk things out.

She puts it down and gives me a hug, <I'm on a very important first date, so I don't feel like talking to him.>

Tough to argue with that when she's hugging me like this.

…

<What are we watching?>

She shows me the DVD case, it says “Chutney Popcorn,” in English. I feel more than a little mystified, as I don't even know what the first word means. But I'm not going to object.

She puts the DVD in the player, and then comes and sits next to me on the couch. I'm a little surprised, but also very happy when she immediately nuzzles into me, resting her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her, and she giggles and nuzzles in even more, and puts her arms around my waist.

I do my best to pay attention to the movie while also enjoying the very new and very pleasant sensation of Shiina's warm, soft body against mine.

I'm surprised when the movie has a lesbian protagonist. She's a first generation American whose parents emigrated from India. Apparently ‘chutney’ is an Indian condiment, one she likes to eat with her popcorn.

The movie focuses on her struggling to be accepted as a lesbian by her very traditional parents. When her older sister is struggling to have kids with her husband, she volunteers as a surrogate, and that helps bring the family back together. In the last scene, the main character and her girlfriend are having dinner with the whole family. 

Shiina, who remained snuggled into me throughout the whole movie sits up when it's over, <So, what did you think?>

<It was really, really good. And so relatable. I don't think I've seen another movie where I felt so…seen. And I had never even heard of it.>

<It was good! I wouldn't have heard of it either, if it weren't for Madoka.>

<That makes sense. It's amazing they just have lesbian movies over there.>

Shiina nods, <Madoka says they aren't super mainstream, but there are lots of low-budget indy ones, like this one!>

<I'd like to watch more. I am glad this one had Japanese subtitles.>

Shiina smiles, <You can thank Madoka for that.>

“Huh?”

Shiina looks confused. She points at the TV, <She…did those subtitles.>

I repeat, “Huh?”

Shiina laughs, <That’s her job. She does Japanese subtitles for American DVDs. I assumed you knew.>

We've actually never talked about our jobs. I was embarrassed to bring it up since I only sort of have one.

<That’s cool! Did she do any more lesbian movies?>

<No. This is literally the only one. It's the movie she's most proud of. So yeah, you can thank her for the movie!> She looks back toward the kitchen and laughs, <She gave me the negimaki recipe too. So you can thank her for the whole date!> She smiles mischievously, <Maybe you should be going out with her?>

I laugh, <No. I only want to go out with you. I will thank her, though.>

She loops her arm with mine, <Good answer.>

We chat and cuddle for a little longer, and soon we realize it's gotten late. 

She guides me to the door. As I turn to open it, I notice she is gripping the front of my flannel tightly. When I turn to look at her, she pulls me toward her by yanking on the fabric, and our lips meet. I'm a little startled and confused for a moment because it happened so suddenly, but then I realize what's happening.

I'm kissing Shiina.

I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of her soft, full lips on mine. She puts her arms around me, so I do the same. My legs start to tremble, but I don't think she notices.

She pulls back and looks at me with concern, while still keeping a tight hold on the fabric of my flannel, <You're shaking. Is this okay?>

Dammit. She notices everything. 

I nod, “I-I'm sorry, I'm new to all this a-and nervous but…also excited. Th-that was just…so amazing. I couldn't help it.”

She smiles, <I kissed you so good I made you shake?>

I blush, “P-pretty much.”

<Is it okay if I do it again?>

I nod without hesitation.

She leans back in and this time I meet her halfway. As my head goes fuzzy with happiness and pleasure we hug each other even more tightly this time. She gently slides her tongue into my mouth, and I meet hers with mine.

I start to feel my mind wander to what might come next. I imagine what she looks like without clothes, and how our bodies would feel together.

I didn't think I had much of a sex drive. But I can feel it right now. I really want her. It's kind of scary how overwhelming that feeling is. I didn't think I could feel this way.

I pull away as my desires become more and more intense. 

I'm definitely not ready for that. And she may not be either.

Then I see she's holding my glasses case and twirling it in her hand with a silly smile on her face. She must have felt it when we were kissing. It was in the pocket of my flannel. I brought them in case the contacts were bothering me.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

She smiles mischievously and opens the case and pulls out my glasses. Then she slides them on over my eyes. With contacts and glasses, everything is blurry. So I can't really tell what kind of face she's making.

“Y-you don't like the contacts?”

Shiina giggles and starts to sign. I push the glasses up so I can see, <You look great in them. But I…kind of have a thing for girls with glasses.> She looks away bashfully, her cheeks turning red.

Yep, definitely never wearing contacts again. Sorry, mom. 

I laugh, “I need you to tell my mom that. She insisted I get contacts for this.”

Shiina lets out a “Wahaha~” and leans in for a hug, and rubs her cheek against mine. It's a nice, intimate sensation I hadn't even considered before. Then she pulls back and signs, <I'll be sure to tell her that you'll be wearing glasses on our next date.>

Chapter Text

<Come on! Those are the ruins, right!?>

Shiina excitedly runs off ahead, making me shake my head and laugh at her enthusiasm. Of course, it makes my heart flutter too.

We're on our third date. So far, we've gone on one every weekend since we got together. The second one was much like our first one - dinner at Shiina's, a movie, some making out. It was amazing. But I realized I was being way too passive, so I said I'd plan our third date.

It took me a while to come up with something. After all, I've basically never planned an outing before – date or otherwise.

But in the end, I decided to just take her to one of the places in the city I really like - the ruins of Aoba Castle, and the park around it. It's situated on a hill in the center of the city, and it has really pretty views, especially at sunset. I come up here to think sometimes.

It also happens to be way less crowded than basically anywhere else, which is a big plus for me.

When I catch up to Shiina, she's standing in the midst of the ruins. Basically all that's left of the original castle is the base of part of the outer wall. There's also one reconstructed tower.

She looks up at me expectantly when I catch up to her, <So, tell me about these ruins.>

I laugh, <Am I your tour guide?>

She grins, <I just know you know about all this history stuff.>

<You're from here. I'm sure you know it all too.>

<Kind of. Maybe. I never had the best memory for this stuff.> She pouts, <And I just want you to show me how smart you are, okay! It's kinda sexy.>

I feel my face turn bright red and all of my resistance fades. I can't very well turn her down when she's pouting and complimenting me.

<So, the castle was built here in 1600 at the beginning of the Tokugawa Shogunate, by the daimyo of Sendai - Date Masamune.>

She laughs, <You took me on a date to a place built by a guy named Date?>

I laugh, <I guess I did. I didn't think about that. That's him over there.> I point at the monumental bronze sculpture of Masamune on his horse.

Shiina looks over and nods, <So like, why did he want to build a castle?>

<Well, it gave him a fortress to oversee the region, and made it hard for anyone else to attack him. He and his descendants used it for hundreds of years.>

Shiina nods, <I see. What happened to it? Why is it gone now?>

<All kinds of stuff happened. Earthquakes, wars and fires. World War II was what really did it in, though. Bombs hit it during the war, and then the Americans occupied this hill after the war. They got rid of what was left.>

Shiina frowns, <That’s sad.>

I nod, and then she suddenly smiles and asks, <Were there lesbians back when this castle was built?>

I laugh, startled by the sudden shift in her line of questioning.

<There have always been lesbians.>

She winks and nudges me with her hip, something she's done a lot since we started dating, <Obviously. Have you written a story about that period though?>

<No. I've stayed more modern so far.>

<Meiji Restoration is modern? It's forever ago!”

<Compared to this, yeah. The beginning of the Tokugawa Shogunate was an interesting time for women though…>

Actually, that might not be a bad setting for my next story. Women lost a lot of status in the Shogunate, especially as warriors…two former warrior women forced to stay at home while their male family members went to war might be a really good premise-

I feel something warm and soft around my arm. I look and see that Shiina has looped her arm with mine very tightly. The softness I'm feeling is definitely one of her breasts. When I realize that, I feel my face flush.

She's giving me the smile she always gives me when she gets me all flustered, but she also looks a little put out. She releases my arm and signs, <You spaced out for like 30 seconds. > She breaks out her pouty face again, <Am I that boring?>

I shake my head, <You're the opposite of boring.>

She narrows her eyes, <Is that a compliment?>

I take her hand and say, “I think it is.”

She gives my hand a squeeze and signs, <What happened, though? Where'd you go?>

I laugh awkwardly and scratch the back of my head before signing, <Sometimes when I think about writing I space out like that. Your comment about stories set when this castle was standing got the gears turning. Sorry, I should have stayed focused on our date.>

She smiles, <No, it's okay. Now that I know what it is, it's actually pretty cute. You're disappearing into a world you're creating! Just don't spend too much time thinking about those historical girls.>

I laugh, <Are you actually jealous of my characters?>

She looks away bashfully, <A little. You think a lot about how they look and act and stuff, don’t you?>

<I kind of have to or I can’t write about them.>

She still looks a little annoyed. I think she’s mostly kidding, but there’s a kernel of truth to all this. She really is a little jealous. She doesn’t need to be, though.

I smile, <Shiina, there's no character as good as you. So don't worry. Even Sayuri was a pale imitation.>

She smiles, <Don't you forget it!>

I notice that the light is starting to turn very orange.

<Hey, let's go look out over the city while the sun sets.>

Shiina nods, and we approach the edge of the palace complex. As the city and the open area around us starts to turn orange, I feel Shiina take my hand. I smile at her and squeeze her hand, finding myself more captivated with how beautiful she is than with the cityscape below.

…

<So! Tell me all about it! How are things? You seem super happy!>

Madoka and I are having lunch at the cafe for the first time since Shiina and I started dating. And apparently she can already tell that I'm in a good mood.

I have moments where I feel like this all has to be some cruel practical joke - after all, why else would a girl this beautiful and wonderful want to spend time with me and make out with a loser like me?

But I am doing my best to keep those thoughts at bay. And I feel a little more confident about things every day. 

I blush, <I am. She's great.>

She clenches her hands together excitedly, “Awww, <Damn that's cute.>

I laugh, <Thanks. For a lot of things, actually.>

She looks at me quizzically, <What did I do?>

<Well, first, you helped me be more comfortable being gay. I never thought I'd come out to anyone but my mom.>

Madoka smiles, <Well…I'm glad I helped.>

I nod, <As badly as I handled things when she confessed, I think it would have been even worse if I hadn't already talked to you about that stuff.>

<Well, I'm glad I played some small part in helping two of my friends get together.>

<And you were also really respectful about how I felt about relationships and stuff. It really meant a lot when you texted me to see how I was, without demanding anything from me.>

<Hey, it's no problem. That's what friends do!>

I nod, and then remember, <Oh! And thanks for giving Shiina the recipe for negimaki, and for doing the subtitles on Chutney Popcorn !>

She laughs, <Misha told me that's what you watched on your first date. Glad you enjoyed it. That kind of makes my day. Helping a young hearing-impaired Japanese lesbian enjoy that movie is what I imagined when I was working on it. Akane told me not to get my hopes up.>

I laugh, <Well, mission accomplished. I'll tell her for you. And I bet you've helped lots more than me. Which is really cool.>

She smiles, <I've read your work too, you know. I bet you're helping lots of Japanese lesbians too! Actually, I wish everything I worked on was for the community - your stuff really is!>

I've somehow never thought of it that way. And a few weeks ago I would have denied that my writing is capable of helping anyone beyond entertaining them. But I think my newfound confidence is allowing me to accept what she's saying.

<Thank you. I hope you're right.>

It's Thursday. It's been a busy week for both me and Shiina, so we haven't seen one another much this week. We have another date planned on Saturday. We're going to the aquarium, which I'm a little anxious about because of the crowds, but I do like the animals and Shiina, so I should be okay.

Also, we've talked about me spending the night, which I think might mean sex. I'm a little nervous about that too, but surprisingly a lot less nervous than I am about the aquarium. The last few times when we've been making out, I've really wanted to go that extra step, but held back.

It's a little embarrassing to admit, but I miss Shiina, even though I just saw her a few days ago.

My phone vibrates and I see I have a text from her. I'm very happy about the contents of her message.

“Hey, are you free this afternoon?”

I quickly reply, “Yeah, want to do something?”

“I do! But it might not be very fun.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I'm meeting up with an old high school friend. We haven't talked in a long time and it's kind of weird, and I just want you there for support. Is that okay? I know it's…social stuff.”

“I'm a little anxious. But I'll feel better with you. I'll come if you think I can help.”

She replies with “You will definitely help!” and a kiss emoji. 

…

We're meeting Shiina's friend at the cafe. I wanted to get more information about them, but we were running late, so I'm going in blind. I'm just here to support her, so I don't really need to know anything anyway. I'm not even sure I'll be able to understand what's going on, since they may not use sign language. But I'm by Shiina's side, and that's what matters.

We just entered the cafe, and it's as busy as ever. It stresses me out in a big way, but Shiina grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. It helps me calm down, just like the first time we came here together, which makes me smile. She must see her friend, because she seems to have a destination in mind. 

We emerge from the scrum of people, where I see a lone woman at a table. She has short, dark blue hair, and wears glasses. She looks small and somewhat unassuming at first, but she has sharp, blue, commanding eyes.

She smiles when she sees her old friend, and gets up to greet her. It looks like the friend wants to hug, but Shiina claps her on the shoulder and signs, <It’s nice to see you.> Then she gestures towards me,  <This is my girlfriend, Reina.> She looks at me, <Rei-kun, this is Shizune.>

She just called me her girlfriend! I wasn't sure we were using that. But I'm glad we are.

Shizune gives me a warm smile and we both sign, <It’s nice to meet you.>

Shiina quickly sits down at the table, and Shizune and I follow suit.

When I take my seat next to Shiina, I can feel her giving off a very different aura than usual. Her usual welcoming, jovial air is gone. Her arms are crossed, and she's scowling. She looks like the gloomy one right now, and it's unsettling.

When Shizune sits down across from us, I see that she's picked up on that too.

Shiina doesn't waste any time, <So, let's get to the point. It's been more than two years since we spoke. Why did you decide I was worth talking to again?>

Shizune's shoulders slump, <I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall out of contact.>

Shiina grits her teeth, <Is that supposed to make me feel better? You didn't stop talking to me on purpose ? Great, so you forgot I existed, instead?>

I see a fire light in Shizune's sharp eyes, and for a moment I can almost feel electricity crackling in the air as these two stare each other down. But then Shizune closes her eyes for a moment and sighs 

<Do we have to fight? You're right. I should have tried to stay in touch. But…that's exactly what I'm trying to do right now, and you're attacking me for it.>

Some of the tension in Shiina's posture and face dissipates, <Fine. You're right. Sorry I was like that.>

Shizune shakes her head, <It’s fine. I understand.>

Shizune's eyes drift over to me. I feel pretty lost about everything, and she must notice, because she fills me in, <Misha was my best friend and interpreter in high school. We were on student council together.>

Oh. This is THAT friend. No wonder Shiina is so hurt. From what Shiina has told me before, it sounds like they were very close.

Shiina smiles, <Yep. We ruled the school with an iron fist. Well, Shizune did, anyway.>

Shizune frowns, <It’s so odd for you to use my whole name.>

Shiina narrows her eyes for a moment but then smiles, <I guess…it feels weird to me too, Shicchan.>

Shizune smiles, <That's better.>

Her eyes drift to me again, and then back to Shiina, <How did you two meet?>

Shiina grimaces and looks at me as her entire face turns red, <You tell her.>

I laugh, <She was my teacher.>

Shizune smiles mischievously at Shiina, who signs, <We only got together like a few months after our class was over, okay! There was no funny business!>

Shizune looks at me now, clearly wanting me to confirm. I laugh, <It’s true.>

Shizune really knows how to keep her on her toes. I could maybe use a lesson from her.

<That’s good. You two looks nice together.>

Shiina takes my hand, <Thanks.> 

Shizune takes an envelope out, <You were right that I wanted to meet for a specific reason. I wanted to hand deliver your invitation to my wedding.>

She places an envelope on the table with Shiina's name on it. When she does, Shiina releases my hand and the tense mood from earlier returns. Shiina's body stiffens back up, and her face is uncharacteristically tense too, with knitted eyebrows and a clenched jaw.

<We haven't talked in two years. Why do you even want me to come?>

Shizune frowns, and looks over at me, clearly feeling embarrassed, <We may not talk as much. But you're still important to me. I still think of you as my best friend. I really want you to meet my fiance. And be there on the big day.> Shizune pauses and looks down at the table, <It’s just an invitation. You don’t have to come.>

Shiina sighs, <I'll come.>

Shizune smiles, <Great. Bring Reina.>

Shiina, <Yeah. Alright, well…we need to go.>

Shiina gets up without waiting for Shizune to respond, and she leaves the invitation.

I grab the envelope, give Shizune a nod and get up from the table, unsure of what's happening. I don't see Shiina, but I know she's upset and that motivates me enough to make my way through the crowd on my own.

I know they haven't talked in a long time, but it seemed like there was something else going on in there. 

When I get outside, I find Shiina waiting in front of the cafe with crossed arms. She doesn't seem interested in talking, which is really unusual.

She's even more upset than I thought.

We walk a couple of blocks without saying anything, and then Shiina sits down on a bench and I follow suit.

She looks…shaken, not something I've ever seen before. Not quite like this anyway.

<Are you okay?>

She sighs, <I'm fine.>

<It doesn't seem like it. What's wr->

<I'm telling you I'm fine.>

I sit silently with her for a few more minutes, trying to decide what I can possibly do to help her. She raises her hands to sign several times, but each time she puts them back down. She looks like she's afraid or worried about something, and while I desperately want to ask her about it, I already know she'll shut me down. So I continue to sit quietly.

After a few more minutes she abruptly stands up and signs, <I'm going home.>

<Do you want me to walk with->

She interrupts, <No.>

I drop my hands, feeling defeated. Then she hurries away without saying anything else. She looks like she can't wait to get away from me.

Well, guess she finally realized what a loser I am. It was bound to happen. I should have seen it-

I shake my head at myself, close my eyes and take a deep breath. I wrench my thoughts away from the negative spiral they were headed for, and try to look at things more positively.

She just needs some space. I don't know exactly what's going on, but it's okay that she wants to be on her own. She'll talk to me about it when she's ready, like she did with her dad.

I just hope she's okay.

Chapter Text

When I get home from the meeting with Shizune, my mom gives me a big smile, <I'm going on a date this weekend!>

I feel happy for my mom, but it's quickly swallowed by the uncertainty and confusion I'm feeling about what just happened with Shiina.

I try to hide it. I force a smile, “That’s great, mom.”

My mom immediately frowns, <Is everything okay?>

I need to learn to hide my feelings better.

I sigh, <You're happy. I don't want to weigh you down.>

My mom takes a seat on the couch and pats on the space next to her. I really need someone to talk to about this, since I'm so confused. I wish I wasn't such a wet blanket though. She did something really great by deciding to go on her first date in 23 years. Still, I can't turn her down. She's always so great to talk to.

I sit down and explain everything that happened. At the end, my mom scrunches up her face and narrows her eyes, <I'm disappointed in her. She shouldn't treat you like that.>

“She was just upset. I'll talk to her about it tomorrow.”

My mom furrows her brow and then signs, <Do you…think they have a history?>

I grimace, “Well…shit, now I do.” 

My mom puts her hand on my shoulder.

I bow my head and start thinking about everything I know about the two of them. 

Shiina was best friends with Shizune in high school. And later her interpreter. They were really close. Spent all their time together in class and on student council. Being able to talk with Shizune helped motivate Shiina to get better at sign language…

A theory starts to coalesce in my mind. Maybe I read and write too much yuri romance but…

Shiina likes girls with glasses…Shizune wears glasses…They were really close for three years at a boarding high school.

There's definitely something between them. Or, I guess there was once.

But what were they?

Exes that had a bad break up? Was it unrequited? Did Shizune hurt Shiina? Or the other way around?

I know so little about Shiina's past. Other than that she's had lots of girlfriends. Maybe Shizune was one of them. She's marrying a man now, but that doesn't mean she doesn't like girls t-

My mom squeezes my shoulder bringing me out of my head.

<You looked almost like you do when you're writing. Everything okay?>

“N-not…really. I was just thinking about everything. I think they definitely have some kind of history.”

My mom nods grimly.

I sigh, “Anyway, no use dwelling on it. Tell me about your date. I'm excited for you. And need something else to think about.”

She smiles as her cheeks flush, <It’s with that guy, Kaz. He's so cool. And dreamy.>

I laugh, “You sound like a Showa-era high school girl in love.”

My mom slaps my arm playfully,  <Well, last time I was in love I was a Showa-era high school girl, okay!>

<Fair enough. What will you be doing on this date?>

<Dinner. At some fancy French place. And then dancing at a jazz club.>

I whistle, “He's pulling out all the stops. He's a very high brow kind of guy, huh?”

My mom frowns, <Stop making fun of me. You're gonna make me self-conscious.>

I hug her, “I'm sorry. I'm just teasing. I'm really happy you're doing this.”

It's been three days since I met Shizune. And also three days since I have heard from Shiina. I have texted her and even tried calling her a few times despite my limitations, but I gave up after getting no response at all. Needless to say, we didn't have our planned date this weekend.

The only bright spot over the last few days is that my mom's date with Kaz went really well. She came home just about the happiest I've ever seen her.

Meanwhile, my love life feels the exact opposite. It hurts so much that Shiina won't even text me.

Does this mean we're broken up now? Is this how it happens? One of the people just disappears?

Maybe she decided…I'm not worth dating after all. I really wouldn't blame her. This was bound to happen.

I'm just a mousy little tombo-

No. Stop thinking like that!

It's getting a lot harder not to let myself spiral into self-loathing.

I'm trying my hardest to work on my next story at my mom's café. It's not my first choice of a place to work, but I've been moping around the house and my mom suggested I come here. And I figured it wouldn't hurt. It is harder to mope in public, that's for sure.

Just as I'm getting into a groove, I'm startled when someone taps on my shoulder. For a millisecond, I think it might be Shiina. But I'm also not surprised that it's not.

It is a somewhat familiar face, though. It's the tall, bespectacled, dark-haired girl who is friends with Shiina. Madoka's girlfriend.

She signs, <Sorry to interrupt. Can I sit here?>

I nod, and she sits down across from me.

<Do you remember me?>

I nod, <You're Madoka's girlfriend.>

She nods and fingerspells her name, <Akane.>

I nod, <Reina.>

There's an awkward moment or two and then she signs, <Are you writing?>

I'm tempted to say ‘I was, before you interrupted me.’ But I hold my tongue. Or, my fingers anyway.

I nod.

She smiles, <I read your story. It's really good.>

I can't help but put my hands over my face and let out an “Ugh…”

I peek through my fingers and see her giving me a warm, genuine smile, which makes me feel a little better, so I remove my hands.

She laughs, <It was amazing! Why are you embarrassed?>

<The…Misha connection.> it feels weird using their name for her. But also weird not to since I know that's what she calls her.

She smiles, <Yeah, I understand I guess. Is she first girl you've fallen in love with?>

Right to the point, this one.

I nod, <Pretty much. I liked a girl when I was 13. But…not like this.>

She smiles, <Misha was my first love too.>

I'm stunned enough by this revelation that it takes me a moment to respond.

<Really?>

She nods, <We dated for a few weeks in high school.>

Once again, I feel shaken by what I've learned.

Another girl with glasses. Shiina really does have a thing for them. 

Has she been with every lesbian with glasses in the Prefecture?

Ugh, that's really not fair of me. I hate myself for even thinking that. I'm just upset. I don't care who she's been with.

Akane must notice my introspection, because she looks worried now. She waves her hands, <Don't worry. I'm not a rival. It was a long, long time ago. But your story really did make me a little nostalgic.> She pauses for a moment and then signs,  <’It felt like getting caught up in a whirlwind that was equal parts chaotic and beautiful. She's like a force of nature that you can't help but be beguiled by.’ Isn't that how you put it?>

I laugh, impressed that she remembered that word for word. It must have struck a chord with her. Now I know she isn't just humoring me. She really read my story. And liked it.

She puts her hand on mine, surprising me a little, and then pulls her hand back to sign, <I know I don’t know you very well at all. But…I kind of feel like I do. Madoka and Misha talk about you a lot, and I read your story. So…I'm going to give you some advice as a friend, if that's okay.>

I hesitate for a moment, feeling a little bit annoyed that this woman I barely know thinks she knows me well enough to give me advice. But…she signed it with such genuine warmth. She really wants to help me.

I give her a small nod.

<Just…try to wait this storm out, okay?>

Given an opening to vent my feelings, words just start to come pouring out of my hands, <I'm trying my best. But I miss her so much and I don't know what's going on. Or how she really feels about me. Or if she loves someone else. Or if we're broken up. Or if I'll ever even see her again!> I realize how melodramatic I'm being, and look off to the side, <Sorry. It's hard having her just…ignore me for days.>

Akane gives me a sympathetic smile, <I know. But just hang on. That force of nature will be less chaotic soon. I promise.>

I study Akane and narrow my eyes at her.

Clearly she knows what's going on. She's one of Shiina's best friends and wouldn't be able to give me this advice if she didn't. I desperately want to ask her for details. But she isn’t giving me any for a reason. And I probably need to hear everything from Shiina.

She's saying I just need to be patient and everything will be okay. It's nice to at least have something to go on.

<Okay. I'll try and hang on. Thank you.>

The next morning when I wake up, I roll over and grab my phone, hoping to have a message from Shiina while simultaneously cursing myself for that hope. I don't know why I do this to myself after being disappointed the last three mornings.

However, this morning I actually have one.

“We need to talk. Can you come by my place around 5?”

I feel a maelstrom of emotions in my stomach. I'm happy she's done ignoring me. And happy I'll see her today. But I'm also really scared about what she might have to say.

But, I have to do this. I have to know what's going on. Even if it means I'm getting dumped.

…

I'm at Shiina's door. I just knocked and now I'm waiting. I'm an absolute ball of anxiety. But I'm proud of myself for facing this instead of running away.

When she opens the door, she gives me a smaller smile than usual, and gives me a shorter hug than she has these last few weeks. She gets us tea and we sit down at her table.

I have a hard time not thinking about the end of my story, when Anzu and Sayuri have to break up. They did it over tea.

We haven't really exchanged any meaningful words. I'm not sure what to say. Or how to start.

Meanwhile, she sits in quiet contemplation, her tea cup in her hand and her eyes closed, with a furrowed brow. I wasn't sure she had a quiet contemplation mode, so it's a little jarring. This is definitely going to be a very serious conversation.

She opens her eyes, <I'm so sorry for how I behaved the last few days. I was working through a lot, and just needed to be alone.>

I cross my arms, thankful she can understand speech so that I can maintain this pose, “You could have told me that. Or anything . But you wouldn't even talk to me. Or text me. I talked to Akane yesterday, that's the closest I've gotten to hearing from you.”

At the mention of Akane's name she grimaces and signs, <What did she tell you?>

<Well, she told me you were her first girlfriend. Was she yours?>

<Yes. But…well, that's sort of what I want to talk about. I want to be honest with you Rei-kun. About everything.>

“About time.”

She sighs and looks down at her tea, <You may not like me anymore. Once you know everything.>

“What does that mean?”

She looks up at me with sadness evident in her eyes, <I'm not a good person, Rei-kun.>

<Well, I'll be the judge of that. Just tell me what you mean.>

She looks down at her tea again for a long moment, <Akane was my first girlfriend. But I was terrible to her. I really hurt her.>

<But you're friends now, so it can't have been too bad.>

She sighs, <It was pretty bad.>

Now I start to worry, <Did you cheat on her?>

<Kind of.> She sighs again, <She confessed to me. When she did, I was in love with someone else, and heartbroken about it. But I didn't tell her that. I just…wanted to be with someone. To try and forget. So I accepted her confession. But she really loved me, and I was just using her. I was just trying to find comfort in her arms.>

She looks up at me and when she does, I see tears in her eyes, <That's the kind of girl I really am, Rei-kun.>

At the sight of her tears, I'm tempted to comfort her physically. But I hold myself back. I still don't know where this conversation is going when it comes to our relationship. Or if she even wants me to touch her. 

<That’s not…great. It's true. But you were what, 16? It's not that bad.>

She shakes her head, <It is too. I was so afraid, when she came back that I…I pushed you away.>

For a moment, I have a hard time deciphering her cryptic words. But then I put it all together.

<Wait…so the girl you were in love with back then was->

<Shizune.>

I feel my heart sink, and I can taste bile in my mouth. 

She's loved her for so long, of course whatever we have doesn't hold a candle to that kind of love. 

I'm tempted to get up and run away, to avoid hearing the rest. To go home and lock myself in my room. I'm pretty sure I know where this is going.

But I also think I deserve an explanation. Plus, even if she's dumping me, I really care about her. So I have to keep listening. I have to know…

“Wh-what were you afraid of, though? Why push me away?”

<I was afraid of myself. I was really hurt by that meeting with Shizune, and…every time I get hurt by her, or long for her…I look for comfort in someone else's arms.> She locks eyes with me and starts to sniffle, <Akane wasn't the only time I did it. Not even close. Just the first.>

<So…you didn't want to be around me because…> I can't really finish the sentence myself. I'm too stunned by everything I'm learning.

She nods, <I thought I might use you. And hurt you. Like I've done before.>

I scoff, <But you did hurt me. You know how self-conscious I am. My girlfriend suddenly disappearing certainly didn't help.>

She closes her eyes for a moment and I see a tear drip down her cheek, <You're right. Of course you are. I just got so scared, and told myself to stay away from you until I had sorted things out. I'm so sorry I hurt you.>

<What makes me different than the women in the past, anyway?>

Her hands are shaking now, <We're too close. I felt a special closeness with you even when you were my student. Even when we were friends. I couldn't stand the idea of using you that way. I couldn't have lived with myself.>

<Thank you. You…may have still hurt me. But you're right, that would have been way worse.>

I ask the question I've been dreading, but it needs to be asked.

I take a deep breath, <So…all of this means…you're still in love with Shizune, doesn't it?>

<That's what I've been thinking about these last few days. I've loved her…for a long time. Pretty much since the day I met her. Even though she's straight. And even though she rejected me a long, long time ago. I've longed for her for…so long.> 

I nod, looking down at my hands, trying my hardest to maintain my composure. But then, Shiina moves next to me and puts her hands on mine. I look up, and see her beautiful golden eyes locked with mine.

<But…I don't love her anymore. For the first time since I met her, I'm sure of that.>

<How are you so sure? You're upset she's getting married, aren't you? Doesn't that mean you still love her?>

<I did get upset when she showed us the invitation.>

<Why did you get upset, then? If not love?>

Shiina sighs, <Because she used to be my best friend. And she didn't even tell me she was engaged. I am hurt, but as her friend. Not as anything more.>

I fidget in my seat, <I don't know how you can be sure…with your history.>

She looks at me with a beautiful smile. All of her smiles are great, but this one seems extra somehow. It's so bright that saying she's ‘beaming’ doesn't really do it justice.

She puts her hands on mine for a moment, <Because I'm in love with you now, Rei-kun. Really, deeply in love. Head over heels crazy about you. You're such a sweet, smart girl, but so strong too - so much stronger than you think. And you mean the world to me.>

I feel overwhelmed with joy by her words. So much so that I'm stunned into silence, and briefly think I must be dreaming.

She takes my silence to mean something else. Her shoulders slump and her tears return, <I understand that I hurt you. And didn't handle this well. And now you know…my history.> She pauses to wipe away her tears, <So it's okay, if you just want to break up with m->

I grab her hands, push them aside, and plant my lips on hers. She's so startled that she falls back out of the chair and onto the floor. I land on top of her. 

I had a soft landing, because I fell on her. But it made a very loud noise when she hit the ground, so I'm worried she's hurt. I sit up to check on her, but she puts her arms around my neck and pulls me back down for a kiss.

Well, guess she's okay, then. 

She locks her legs around me as our kiss quickly becomes more passionate as our tongues become involved and our mouths get wider and wider. After a little while, she starts to roll on her side, and I follow her lead, and eventually we've switched places, with her on top.

As we continue to kiss, her hands start wandering places they haven't before. One of them snakes up my shirt, while the other lurks just above my waistband. My head starts getting very fuzzy as she caresses me and kisses me. We're both panting with anticipation.

Just as I start to realize I want to touch her too, she retracts her hands, sits up and brushes her hair back behind her ear. Her face and chest are bright red, and she's breathing heavy, <I-I'm sorry…is this too much?>

I shake my head.

She smiles, <So do you…want to?>

I really, really do. I feel like it's a need, more than a want…

But, now that her hands and lips are off of me, I'm thinking a little more clearly. I do have some concerns.

“I just want to be really sure. You aren't just comforting yourself, right? This…it means something?”

She gives me an animated nod, <It means everything. I love you so much that it's overwhelming and I feel like I have to show you with my body. I don't want anyone else. Not Shizune, not anyone. I only want you.>

Embarrassingly, I feel a few tears run down my cheek. She smiles at me and wipes them away.

Then, I pull her back on top of me, making her giggle. I whisper,  “P-please…show me how much you love me.”

I just woke up, and when I do, panic sets in for a moment, as I'm in a strange place, facing a wall I don't  recognize. As I recall the events of last night, I realize where I am. I roll over and see a very naked Shiina sound asleep right next to me. It makes me smile.

I came over here 99% sure I was getting dumped. But instead she told me so many wonderful things, and we had sex for the first time, and it was all really great, physically and emotionally.

I spend some time just enjoying being in bed with her, but then I realize I forgot to do something.

I get up and wade through the clothing strewn about, until I find my pants and my phone. I have one text from my mom from about 11 pm last night.

“I'm going to assume things went really, really well and that's why you're not home! But please text me when you see this to confirm.”

Crap, I totally forgot about the rest of the world for the last 12 hours or so.

I text my mom, “You're right it went really, really well. Everything is okay. We made up. Sorry I didn't text.”

My mom quickly replies with a hundred smiley emojis.

I hear Shiina start to shift in bed, and I'm suddenly very embarrassed that I'm naked. I got the feeling last night that Shiina definitely likes my body, but this is a different context. 

I awkwardly hold my jeans in front of myself.

Shiina's eyes slowly open. She looks at my side of the bed with disappointment, and then she looks around before finding me standing awkwardly with my pants. She smiles, <Aw, you're out of bed already? Trying to hit it and quit it?>

I laugh, <Yep. You know I'm the type. I always sneak out after I sleep with a girl.>

She pouts, <I know you're just joking but I still feel a little jealous.>

She sits up, not embarrassed at all that the blanket falls off of her, giving me a view of her breasts, which I learned last night are even more magnificent than I expected. They're somehow both very large and very perky. Her body is just as beautiful as her face is. 

She looks at me with what can only be described as bedroom eyes and pats on the bed next to her, <Put those pants down and come snuggle.>

I find it hard not to listen to her request. I'm pretty sure she wants to do a whole lot more than snuggle.

But…I definitely don't have a problem with that.

Chapter Text

<This really is the best thing ever.>

I laugh, “I told you!”

Shiina came over to the apartment today after she got off work. Ever since she told me more about her past and we spent the night together a couple weeks ago, we spend even more time together. I've stayed over at her place a few more times, but Shiina felt bad that we never hang out at the apartment, so she came here today.

I told Shiina that Haru is a great snuggler, so she has wanted to try it for awhile.

We are snuggling in my bed, along with the little calico. She's squeezed herself between us and is purring happily. I'm glad Haru and Shiina like one another so much. It might have been a deal breaker if they didn't get along. Plus, this is the coziest thing ever.

I hear Shiina's phone start to vibrate in her purse. Given our current configuration, I realize it'll be easier for me to grab it.

As I start to sit up, she holds on to me playfully and giggles, but then lets me go. When I pick it up, I see that it's her dad. She must see that over my shoulder because she scoffs.

“You don't want to answer?”

She scoots behind me and puts her arms around me, and starts kissing the back of my neck. 

Now all I can think about is her.

“G-guess that's a ‘no’ then?”

...

I just woke up to the sound of knocking, and I'm surprised when I notice I'm naked. I never sleep naked. But then, I notice the warm, shapely, naked body next to me.

Oh yeah, we had sex and then took a nap. My mom must be home now.

Another knock.

“J-just a second!”

I throw on one of my hoodies, because it's close at hand, and walk up to the door and crack it open. When I do, Haru runs through the opening with an annoyed chirp.

My mom laughs and gives me a smile that is a little too knowing, <She wanted in really badly. Sorry if I interrupted.>

I whisper as my face flushes, “W-we're just taking a nap!”

It's not really a lie. That is what we were doing! We just…did other stuff first. 

My mom laughs, <I bet you are. You always lock Haru out when you take a nap.>

“S-stop it!”

My mom smiles, <Is Shiina staying for dinner?>

I look back toward the bed, where my beautiful naked girlfriend is still entirely unconscious. Haru has jumped up on the bed and is eying her cautiously and curiously. Like she's some sort of alien intruder. It's a sight that almost makes me crack up laughing.

I turn back to mom, “Y-yeah, um…she will. Thank you.”

My mom nods, gives me one more knowing smile, and heads down the stairs. I breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm packing up my things to stay overnight with Shiina. My mom has a date with Kaz tonight. She's making him dinner here, so I thought she would appreciate it if her daughter was out of the way. He's been out of town for a few weeks, and she's very excited to see him.

Plus, I really like staying with Shiina. So it's a win-win. The only one who doesn't like the arrangement is Haru. She's sitting on the bed and looking at me disapprovingly. She knows that when I'm packing my bag in the evening it usually means I won't be here tonight.

Feeling the weight of her mood, I sit down on the bed and pet her, as a peace offering of sorts. She accepts the attention, but still isn't thrilled with me.

I check the time and realize it's later than I thought. Their date should be starting any minute. 

I better get going .

I quickly sling my bag over my shoulder. It's not too heavy. It just has a change of clothes, toiletries, and my laptop in it. 

I go down the stairs, and when I walk into the living room, I see my mom and Kaz on the couch. I catch a glimpse of my mom sitting in his lap while they make out, and immediately find myself throwing my arms up to avoid seeing any more

“Wh-whoa!"

My mom quickly peels herself off of him and bows her head apologetically, <Sorry. I thought you were gone.>

I smile at the man, despite this being an awkward first meeting. He smiles back, despite also clearly being very embarrassed.

I would normally be pretty anxious with a stranger, but catching the two of them like that somehow dispelled all of my anxiety. Probably because Kaz now looks very anxious himself.

“Hi Kaz, I'm Reina.”

He responds, “Bzbzbzbzbzj,” but then puts his hand over his mouth and shakes his head. I know that look. He responded verbally before remembering it doesn't do any good.

I look at my mom who signs, <He says…nice to meet you. And also…he's very sorry.>

I turn to him, “It’s okay.” I turn back to my mom, <Didn't the dinner date just start?>

My mom nods and her face turns even redder.

<Starting the meal with dessert, are we?>

My mom has reached a critical mass of embarrassment and now converts it into anger. She clicks her tongue, <Why are you teasing me?>

<Turnabout is fair play.>

She looks confused for a moment, but then she sighs and nods, <Yeah, okay. Fair enough.>

I laugh and turn back to my mom's boyfriend(?) who looks confused, embarrassed, and a little worried. He has no idea what we were saying, after all. 

I switch to speech, “I'll get out of your hair now. You two have a good date.”

It's morning at Shiina's apartment. The two of us have kind of a routine now when I stay over on a weeknight. We get up around 6:00, make breakfast, and then we both get out our laptops to get ready for the day.

For Shiina, that means planning out and going over the lesson she's teaching that day. I knew she was a hard worker who prepared a ton, but now that I'm seeing how much work she does to be ready every day, I'm very impressed. She usually looks stuff over for an hour at bedtime too. She has quite the work ethic.

For me, it means looking over what I wrote the day before and checking emails.

After my first story got published, I got contacted by the editor of a big web novel website, and right now I'm writing a serial yuri story that has a new chapter every week. It's a little stressful, always having a deadline looming, but it's also regular work that pays way better than writing for an anthology. I get paid a flat rate per chapter by the web novel company, and then a percentage of the ad revenue for the ads that run with my story. 

So far my current story has been pretty popular, too, and the money has been better than I expected. It still isn't really enough to be a legitimate income for full-time work, but it's about halfway there. 

It's a story about two former warrior women who lost their role on the battlefield with the rise of the Tokugawa Shogunate. An idea I got from talking with Shiina at the old Sendai Castle. I even decided to have it set partly in the palace complex.

I look over at her, as she's seriously looking at something on her computer with a furrowed brow, and I smile.

My last two stories came from her. She's my muse.

As I'm shaking my head at my overly romantic self, I get a notification that I have an email. It's from someone at a company whose name I recognize, but can't quite place.

“Dear Ms. Kato,

We have been closely following your web novel, and looked into some of your earlier work and we are very impressed. We were curious if you had any interest in scenario writing for visual novels. We are in the planning stages for our first yuri visual novel which will release next year, and we think you would be an excellent candidate. We would love to interview you. Get back with us if the interest is mutual.”

I sigh loudly, drawing the attention of my girlfriend. After I tell her the contents of the email, she asks, <What's a visual novel?>

Oh right. She doesn't know much about the otaku world.

<A video game that is a story, where you click and make choices to progress the story.>

She puts her finger to her chin for a moment and nods while looking off to the side. She looks like she's trying to imagine what that might be like.

Then she scratches her head and narrows her eyes, <I don't get why you're annoyed, though.  Aren't they going to interview you for a job? Like…a big one?>

I sigh, <They are, yeah.>

She beams, <Then isn't that great!?>

I shake my head, <Visual novels just aren't what I want to write.>

<Why? Because it's a video game?>

<No. It's because I don't like how yuri visual novels are made. There are a few exceptions, but most yuri visual novels fall in one of two categories.>

Shiina gestures for me to go on.

<The first kind only has subtext. And I've had my fill of writing that way in university. But honestly, those aren't the ones that piss me off. They just aren't my thing.>

Shiina looks even more confused now, <The other kind makes you angry?>

I nod, <They are written by straight men and aimed at teenage boys. And it's just about sex and eye candy for them . The stories just…aren't actually gay at all. They aren't stories about women in love. It's just a story of what straight men imagine lesbians to be like.>

Shiina deflates with an “Ugh,” <I get it now. Sorry, I didn't know it was like that. I hate that crap.> She rolls her eyes, <Yeah guys, we're just lesbians so you can watch us.>

After sitting with a sour look on her face for a minute, she brightens up again, <But wait, since they are asking you to write it, isn't that a good sign? They know what you write isn't in either of those categories. Maybe this is one of those exceptions.>

I ponder her point for a second, <Well…maybe, I guess.>

<Why don't you just email them back and get a feel. It couldn't hurt.>

I smile at her, <I love you.>

She smiles back, <I love you too, but where did that come from?>

<Well, my usual pessimism had me only seeing this one way. I was just going to delete the email and move on. Your optimism is what I needed.>

Shiina smiles wide, looking very proud as she goes back to her own work.

As I watch her and think about how positive she is about everything, I do find myself thinking about one area where she could maybe benefit from some more optimism. Maybe I'm a weird person to give it to her, given my gloomy nature, but I want to help her.

“Hey…have you talked to your dad at all? I've noticed you have ignored lots of his calls.”

To my surprise, Shiina suddenly hops into my lap and straddles me.

“Wh-what are you doing?! We don't have time for this. You leave in like 10 minutes.”

She smiles and traces her finger along my collarbone. I don't need words to understand the meaning of, “There's plenty of time.”

I grab her hand, prompting a pout out of her. I feel bad (and a little insane) for rejecting her advances, but I just realized something important.

“You do this every time your dad comes up, don't you? You distract me with physical affection.”

She even did it on our first date. And probably a half dozen times since then.

Her shoulders slump and her playful pout turns into a genuine frown. I let go of her hand and hug her.

“If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay. But…I want to help you any way I can.” I chuckle, “And this time you can't say it would be wrong because I'm your student.”

She gives me a wry laugh, then heaves a big sigh, breaks the hug, and climbs out of my lap.

She signs, <We can talk about it. But later, after work.>  

…

When I get home, I hear the sounds of cooking in the kitchen, and the smell of bacon is enough to make me hungry even though I just ate with Shiina.

I head to the kitchen, looking forward to another great breakfast from my mom. 

But when I get there, I find a man - Kaz - is actually doing the cooking.

Well, guess their date went well if he's making her breakfast. It's pretty late for breakfast too, so they must have been up late.

It's great she's letting him do something for her too.

I find myself feeling far more anxious around him today than last night. It's really weird to see someone cooking in this apartment that isn't my mom. I've lived in my insular little world for so long, and I have mixed feelings about how much that is changing lately.

Despite my misgivings,  I say,  “G-good morning.”

Kaz turns around with a smile. He does have a good one. He has dimples and a nice jawline. I'm not remotely straight of course, but he's definitely a classically attractive man, in an objective sort of way.

He responds with a wave and then holds his finger up for a second before then doing something I didn't see coming. He signs, “Welcome home.”

Or at least, he tries to. It wasn't perfect, but I figured it out from the context.

“Thank you. Did my mom teach you?”

He nods, and then holds out his hands in front of him palms down, before making a lateral motion with them. It isn't official sign language, but I know he means, “That’s all I've got.”

I laugh, “Well, thank you for learning at all.”

He nods, points at the bacon sizzling in the pan, and then points at me.

“S-sure, I'll have some.”

He nods and plates me some bacon, and we sit down at the table together. This is more than a little awkward.

I don't know very much about him other than that he likes my mom and her cafe. I'd like to ask him some stuff, but I know I mostly won't be able to understand, and I don't want him to deal with that.

As I'm contemplating all of this, he points to the bacon on my plate and gives me a thumbs up and a thumbs down in succession. I reply with a thumbs up, as I munch on his bacon, which is just the right amount of crispy.

Just as I'm considering trying to converse with him anyway, my mom comes down the stairs looking freshly showered. She looks a little surprised when she sees the two of us eating together, but then she smiles, gets her own plate of food, and sits down with us.

<How are you this morning?>

<Good. Hey, can you help me talk to Kaz? I just realized we have never talked and I'd like to.>

My mom looks over at Kaz and back at me, <Are you going to grill him?>

I laugh, <No, I just want to know more about him. Now that he's staying over and stuff.>

My mom nods and says something to him, he replies with a nod and my mom gives me the go ahead.

After that we have a nice conversation, where I learn he's a physics professor at the university, 45 years old, and has never been married, but has a son just a couple years younger than me.

He took the whole thing very seriously, like it was a job interview and he had to be on his best behavior. He clearly knows how close my mom and I are, and it is probably true that if I hated him it would be a problem. Hopefully he loosens up in the future.

But he seems like a nice, smart, sweet guy, one who makes my mom happy and even seems to want to learn some sign. He also doesn't seem to think there's any problem with me being gay.

So there's no complaints from me. I think my mom picked a good one.

It's the evening and I'm over at Shiina's. We just had a quick dinner and things were pretty light. I was beginning to wonder whether she still wanted to talk about her dad. I wasn't going to make her, of course.

But now the mood has taken a turn. She's in her little-used ‘quiet contemplation’ mode, which I've only seen once before - on the night she told me about her past, and that she loved me. So I know real talk is coming.

We're on the couch and she's sitting with her hands folded and her eyes closed. From my experience the other time she did this, I think she's just figuring out what to say, and how to say it.

I wait patiently a while longer and then she opens her eyes and signs, <When I was growing up, I was a daddy's girl. I love my mom too, but I'm more like my dad. We're both talkative people who like to laugh a lot. We get really loud when we're together. We can talk forever. He's really fun.>

Her dad's like her?! I'm kind of scared to experience them together now. I may not be able to understand speech, but that doesn't mean I won't hear them being loud.

I nod, but don't reply. I can tell this is the start of a longer story.

<So, we've always been pretty close.> She smiles at me, <I mean, not as close as you and your mom. But pretty close. We don't see each other a lot, but we have a good time when we do, and we used to talk a lot.>

I nod, smiling a little as I imagine their relationship is probably very cute.

<He was also really great, when I came out. My mom took some convincing, but he did most of it for me.>

<That’s awesome.>

I'm surprised when she doesn't nod.

She sighs, <Anyway…I haven't talked to my dad since that day months ago, when you saw me fighting with him on the phone.>

<At all?>

She shakes her head.

I bite my lip, unsure of how to proceed here. I'm hardly an expert on family matters. I know they had a big fight about his diabetes, but I don't know anything else.

<He won't take care of himself, right?>

She nods, <He got diagnosed with diabetes and isn't changing his lifestyle at all, or taking medication.>

I nod, thinking about Haru. She'd be dead without medical intervention. It makes sense that day shook her up so much. She was seeing what might happen to her dad.

<He's reaching out to you, though. Why don't you want to talk to him? Maybe he got his act together?>

She shakes her head and sighs, <There's a part of it I haven't told you.>

<There is?>

She nods, <When we were fighting and getting really heated on the phone, he said that I should let him live his life how he wants…>

She trails off and starts to sniffle, so I put my hand on my shoulder. She takes a moment to gather herself and signs, 

<He said…I date women even though he doesn't agree with it and he keeps his mouth shut about it. So even if I don't understand his choice, I owe him the same.>

“Oh.”

<That really hurt me. I thought he supported me. So, to find out that-> Her hands start to shake, <-he doesn't really, on top of everything else…>

She sighs and leans into me. I put my arm around her, she grips the fabric of my flannel and cries into my chest. I hold her tight while she cries, while thinking about the situation.

It would be like if my mom all of a sudden said, ‘Oh, I love you, but only in SPITE of you being a lesbian.’ That would crush me. And that's what she's dealing with.

Once her crying has started to slow down I say, “It was really, really messed up for him to say that.”

She sits up and nods, <I don't even know why I don't want to talk to him anymore. Is it because he's being an idiot about his health? Or because it turns out he thinks me being a lesbian is not only a choice, but the wrong choice?> She sighs, <Probably both.>

I put my hand on her cheek, and she smiles at me, tears still staining her cheeks. She can even smile at a time like this.

“You have every right to cut him out of your life, like you have. But…when you're ready, maybe try to talk to him when you're both not so upset. If he's still standing by being a bigot who doesn't take care of himself, then maybe it'll be the last time. But right now…the last time you two talked, you were both really upset. You need closure, at least. And he's been reaching out to you.”

She frowns and leans away from my hand and she tenses up.

<Are you telling me what to do?>

I laugh, <I wouldn't dare. That was just a suggestion. Take it or leave it, I'll support you all the same.>

Her body relaxes and she pinches my cheeks while letting out an “Ugh,” then she signs, <You're probably right that we should talk. Just like you sometimes need my optimistic perspective, sometimes I need your level-headed one.>

She nuzzles into me, and I put my arm around her, feeling very pleased that I was able to help her. Since I met her, she has done nothing but help me. First as my teacher, who helped prepare me for a life with new limitations. But she's helped me in so many ways beyond that.

Just as I'm thinking about that she abruptly sits up and signs, <I'll need your support. Before, during, and after. Talking to him will be hard no matter what happens.>

I nod, “O-of course. Whatever you need.”

She gives me a big smile, and then abruptly takes her top off, and her bra a second after that.

Somehow, even though I've seen her topless at least a dozen times by this point, my jaw still drops every time. And it always draws the same proud giggle out of her.

<For now though, you need to make up for rejecting me this morning.>

Chapter Text

I can't sleep. I have a job interview in a week. My first job interview ever. And I can hear my own heartbeat. And thinking about the interview makes me want to cry.

Most days I don't really feel the weight of my medical condition anymore. I can do most daily stuff. There's a mix up now and then, but I'm used to it at this point.

But a mix up at a job interview could be fatal. I haven't quite figured out how to approach that. 

Shiina stirs next to me and mumbles something. Well, I assume it was a mumble. I can't be sure. It's the same old buzzing to me. Maybe she speaks very clearly in her sleep. I have no way of knowing.

I sigh to myself and close my eyes in an attempt to calm my mind.

It doesn't work. Seconds later my eyes are open again.

Would most people be freaking out a full week before their job interview? 

I'm such an absolute train wreck of a human being. 

How will I make it through the actual interview?

There's no way I can. 

I just have to cancel. 

That's the only way I can stop feeling this sheer terror.

I sit up, and there's another mumble from Shiina. I normally think it's cute that she talks in her sleep, but right now I can't feel positively about anything.

I get ready to get out of bed, and send the email. But then I hear the lamp on Shiina's nightstand click on.

I turn around to see her sitting up and looking at me with concern. She sits up and signs, <Is everything okay, Rei-kun? I could tell something was wrong. But I was being an airhead and trying to talk to you when I was half-asleep.> 

Oh, so she wasn't mumbling.

“Y-yeah, just go back to sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

She frowns, <I know you, Rei-kun. You don't look like everything is okay.>

I bite my lip in frustration and clench my eyes shut.

This is the exact thing I was afraid of when she confessed to me. Weighing her down with how weak I am. I just have a job interview and I'm losing my freaking mind about it, so much so that I woke her up when she needs her rest.

I hate myself. I hate myself. I ha-

I feel something warm on my hand. Something very familiar. It pulls me out of my spiral of self-loathing.

I open my eyes and see she's scooted closer to me and has taken my hand. This has helped me calm down in the past. Even when she was my teacher.

And it's helping now.

She puts her hand on my cheek for a moment and studies me. I can almost see the gears turning in her head as she looks at me both lovingly and seriously.  Then she signs, <Is it the job interview?>

I nod, embarrassed that she has me figured out.

She nods, <Do you want to talk about it?>

I shake my head, <I'm just canceling. I can't do it. I'm losing my mind and it's a week away. I just can't do it.>

<But it’s such a good opportunity.>

“I-it doesn't matter. I'll make a complete fool of myself. I would have even before my disability b-but now I…” I shake my head and look down, bursting into tears.

On top of everything else, I'm keeping her awake when I shouldn't be. I just weigh her down, I-

I suddenly feel warmth and comfort all around me. I realize Shiina is hugging me from behind, resting her cheek on the back of my neck. 

I start to calm down and say, “I-I'm so sorry I'm like this.”

She scoffs, lets go of me and gets off the bed. She stands up in front of me with a confident look on her face, and I suddenly feel very much like I'm her student again, and I did something that deserves a scolding. Like speaking in class.

<Don't ever apologize for your feelings. There's nothing wrong with you. Nothing you need to apologize for. Everyone gets anxious about job interviews.>

I roll my eyes, <Oh yeah? I bet you think job interviews are fun .>

She lets out a “Wahaha~” that on its own erodes some of my negative feelings, <I do think they are kind of fun! But I still get anxious about them.>

<Not anxious like me, though. Not like this. Where you can't sleep, and your partner has to lose sleep too because you're an absolute basket case.>

She groans in frustration and pinches the bridge of her nose for a long moment, <You comfort me when I'm upset, don't you?>

I nod.

<How is this any different? I'm more than happy to help you when things are hard.> She winks, <Because I love you and stuff.>

I exhale, at least letting go of the idea that I'm doing nothing but weighing her down.

<You're right. I'm sorry. I get self-conscious sometimes. That I just cause you problems. I should do better.>

She laughs, <You don't have to apologize for that either, my silly little Rei-kun.>

She pinches my cheek and smiles at me and I find it hard not to smile back. The fact I feel like smiling at all tells me that I've come out of whatever heightened state I was in. Not even my mom is this good at pulling me out of it when my mind goes to dark places.

<Okay. I won't cancel. Not yet, anyway. I'm gonna freak out on and off, but hopefully there is more ‘off’ than ‘on.’>

She nods, <I'm thinking about going with you. Is that too helicopter-girlfriend of me?>

I laugh, <No. I could use the help because of the language barrier. And your support in general.> I sigh, <But->

She interrupts with a dramatic eye roll and a slap of my hands, <Yes, yes, I have work that day. I can take the afternoon off, though. No big deal.>

I take her hand, “Okay. Thank you. I love you.”

She responds with a kiss. One that starts pretty tame, but it quickly becomes more passionate. 

In the end, we don't go back to sleep for quite awhile.

Shiina and I are in the office of the video game company for my interview. We got here like 30 minutes early because I was so anxious. I knew I was being ridiculous, but Shiina just acted like it was perfectly normal. 

Of course, if I were her, I would have the interview time all wrong and be even earlier.

I chuckle softly.

Shiina looks at me in confusion.

<Remember how early you were on the day we met?>

She nods, looking just a tiny bit embarrassed.

<Were you secretly anxious?>

She smiles, <I was actually! A little. Meeting new students is nerve-wracking. But I was only early because I'm such an airhead.> She gives me a flirtatious wink.

Somehow airhead has become a term of endearment between us. We're weird.

While the little distraction was nice, my mind quickly goes back to the impending interview.

The woman who I have exchanged emails with - Ms. Sakimoto - seems nice enough. And she was understanding about my disability too. And she's the one who will be interviewing me. But this is still really scary.

I didn't realize it, but Kimako Games is actually a massive video game company. We're in a high rise building in Sendai, and they have two whole floors. They develop all kinds of games, and there are eight different “teams” of developers who are all working on different games in different genres. 

The receptionist says something, and Shiina pats on my shoulder and gives me a nod. I nod back, and we stand up and the receptionist guides us to a door. She knocks, and a voice from inside replies. The receptionist opens the door and says a few things, no doubt telling Ms. Sakimoto who we are.

The receptionist nods to me, and I nod back before heading in with Shiina right behind me.

I kind of imagined her office would be massive and impressive, especially after arriving here today and seeing what this office is like. But it's surprisingly modest. It reminds me of a university professor's office, because about all there is room for is her desk, a couple of chairs, and some book shelves. She does have a great view of the city, though.

When I walk in, I'm careful to bow and say, “I-It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Sakimoto. Thank you very much for this opportunity.”

She replies, and I look to Shiina and see that she just replied with the standard, “It's very nice to meet you too.”

The woman behind the desk is younger than I expected, probably not yet 40. She's wearing a very warm smile and is dressed very stylishly in a brightly colored blazer over a dress shirt, and her shoulder-length dark hair is voluminous and lustrous. Her stylishness and warmth kind of reminds me of my mom, which makes me feel a little more comfortable 

I stand back up and say, “As I said in the email, I have a disability that keeps me from understanding speech. Th-this is Ms. Mikado, my interpreter.”

After the two exchange greetings and briefly converse, Shiina stands next to Ms. Sakimoto, who makes a little room for her. This is what we planned, we decided it would be best for me to be able to quickly respond to questions, while also maintaining some eye contact with Ms. Sakimoto. I'm glad she was okay with it.

Ms. Sakimoto starts to speak, and Shiina relays the information to me, <I know we've talked a little bit over email, but let me introduce myself a little more, and what it is we're trying to do here.>

I nod and she continues.

<We are the newest, and smallest team here at Kimako - Team Hana. We are a team focused on yuri visual novels, and we are in the very earliest stage of development on our first, and we have our whole team, apart from a writer. I myself have worked on four visual novels in the past, as an editor and assistant writer. This will be my first one as a director and team head.>

I nod, “Th-that's really great that Team Hana will focus on yuri. We need more of it.”

She smiles, <Agreed. What can you tell me about your experience with yuri visual novels?>

Well, that was abrupt. And I was dreading this question. But I just have to be honest. They already know where I stand on this from our email exchange, but I should make it clearer.

“When I was younger I really loved Akai Ito. It was the first one I read and I probably read it five times. It has great writing and worldbuilding, and characters, but…I was always a little disappointed that the yuri part was so ambiguous. And that so many other yuri visual novels are like that.”

She nods and I study her for a moment to see if I can glean any information about how she feels about my answer. She doesn't look mad, at least.

“And I really don't like it when the main focus of a yuri story is just all the h-scenes, either. I like stories more like Solfege or Kindred Spirits on the Roof , where there is still a great story, but the romance is much more developed. And while there is h-content, it's heartfelt and meaningful.”

She nods from behind her desk thoughtfully, and lobs another question at me, <Would you say you're a fast writer? Deadlines here can be hell. I mean, we're looking for a 250,000 word script in about 8 months.>

“I'm pretty fast, yes. In fact, once I have an idea for a story it kind of consumes me and just comes spilling out of me.” I look at Shiina for a moment, “P-people say it's a little scary when I'm in the zone. And I have been writing that weekly web novel and the deadlines haven't been a problem.”

She smiles, <Those words are music to a director's ears.> She pauses for a moment as she looks from me to Shiina and back to me with a wry smile, and then she says something that makes Shiina freeze, wide-eyed, which spikes my blood pressure. After a brief delay she signs, <You two are an item, aren't you?>

Now my eyes get wide, unsure what I can possibly say as my heart thumps in my chest so hard I can feel it in my throat.

Shiina looks at me and all I can do is look back in terror. Then Ms. Sakimoto shakes her head, <Sorry, that wasn't a very professional question. But I've read everything you've written twice, and I couldn't help but think you two remind me of Anzu and Sayuri.>

Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why did I decide it was a good idea to write that stupid story? 

Ugh. Screw it. I'm not ashamed, and I shouldn't be. 

I write lesbian stories. It's why I'm being interviewed. It's time to own this.

I psych myself up as best as I can and cross my arms to make myself feel safe, but my voice still comes out squeaky and wavering, “Y-yes. She's my p-partner. Is that a problem?”

Ms. Sakimoto shakes her head and waves her hands. Shiina looks relieved while relaying her message, <Not at all. I'm sorry for alarming you. I can see why you would be worried. But my partner is a woman too. Our lead artist is also a lesbian. It's important to our little group to have some authentic voices, don't you think?>

I find myself smiling, “Y-yes, very. I'm sorry for snapping at you.”

She bows her head apologetically, <It’s all okay. I shouldn't have brought it up in this setting. I'm a little too nosy for my own good. I'll get back to being more professional. Back to interview mode.>

She clears her throat and asks, <What accommodations, if any, do you think you will need for your disability?

Another question I was dreading. But I planned for it.

“My colleagues will have a harder time communicating with me than they would with someone else. That's just how it is. I can lipread reasonably well, and I can do okay in one-on-one conversations in ideal conditions, but it still isn't perfect. And it won't ever be. So, sometimes people will have to write things down or send me emails instead of speaking. I think meetings where everyone is talking are going to be particularly difficult. Someone may have to type things out for me, or send me some kind of detailed summary before I can give my own input.”

She nods thoughtfully, <I think we would be able to accommodate those things. What would you say are your two greatest strengths as a writer?>

“I think I'm good at character writing. Writing two characters who slowly become closer, fall in love, and become better people because of it is really my bread and butter. And…as you know if you've read my stories, I really like writing historical fiction. I like doing the research and imagining women's lives in specific time periods.”

<What would you say is your biggest weakness?>

“Well…probably that I pretty much only write historical fiction. I don't have experience with fantasy, horror, science fiction, high school settings, or creating complex worlds or anything. I'm not averse to developing that ability, but right now I do lack the experience.”

Ms. Sakimoto nods and looks down at her desk for a long moment, making me think that maybe that last answer was a little too honest. I mean, a fantasy story probably sells better than historical fiction.

She looks back up with a smile and says something.  That smile is then matched by my girlfriend, who signs <Okay, you're hired!>

“I….huh?!”

Ms. Sakimoto laughs and Shiina is still smiling ear to ear as she signs her words, <You were our top candidate. And your interview made me like you even more. Do you want the job?>

I'm stunned into silence, as both Ms. Sakimoto and Shiina look at me in anticipation.

I was the top candidate? At a company this big!? I mean sure, it's the newest and smallest team, but still. I can't believe they want me this bad. 

I had my doubts about all this, but this interview has made it clear this is the exact place I want to work. There's only one thing to say.

“Y-yes. I would love the job. Thank you so much.”

Shiina and I are waiting for an important guest. She reached out to her dad, and they agreed to meet in person. The meeting place is Shiina's apartment.

Shiina is not normally an anxious person, so seeing her right now is pretty jarring. She's pacing all over the apartment and mumbling to herself. I've tried to get her to relax and sit down, but it didn't work. It doesn't work with me either, so I should have known.

As I'm watching her she suddenly looks at me, <When he gets here and we talk…I'll translate for you.>

I shake my head, <This is intense though. I don't want you to have to translate the whole time. I'll lipread and you can fill me in on what I missed later.>

She shakes her head, <You're my partner. I want you to know everything that's happening. I don't mind.> She winks, <I'm pretty good at it anyway, you know?>

I laugh. <I know.>

Not long after we finish the conversation, there's a knock on the door.

Shiina answers it and there's a brief discussion before he comes in. 

I would not have thought the man before me was Shiina's father. He doesn't look anything like her. He has dark eyes and what's left of his hair - just a little cul-de-sac- is dark too. He is also quite tall, and rather portly.

Shiina introduces us, <This is my girlfriend, Reina. She doesn't understand speech, so I'm going to be signing so she can keep up.> 

He studies me for a moment with a very guarded and slightly suspicious expression. At best it's like he's telling me “Are you good enough for my daughter?” with his eyes. At worst, he's saying “Why does my daughter have to date women?”

Shiina moves on, <Rei-kun, this is my dad.>

Apparently done examining me, he gives me an awkward nod, to which I respond with an awkward, “I-it's nice to meet you.”

Of course, that will only be true if this conversation goes well. But it's the polite thing to say.

We all sit down at Shiina's little dining table. Shiina almost immediately asks, <So, what do you want to say? You won't stop calling me, so there must be something.>

He frowns, <I'm sorry. That's all I've wanted to say. What I said to you was horrible, no matter how upset or angry I was.> He bows his head, <I'm so sorry, Shiina-chan.>

He looks as contrite as can be. To the point where I'm ready to forgive him, but Shiina doesn't look like she buys it.

She replies, <You wouldn't have said it if some part of you didn't believe it.>

Yeah, okay. Good point.

He runs his hand through his almost nonexistent hair and sighs, <I do worry about it. A lot. And sometimes I wish you were straight. Not because it's wrong to be gay, but because your life would be so much easier if you weren't. So…that's the part that's true.>

Shiina studies him for a moment and then sighs, much of the tension leaving her body, <Okay. You're right it isn't always easy. But I'm still way happier being with a woman I love than I would be with a man that I don't. So it's better, even if society sucks.>

He nods and glances at me, <I understand. And I support you. I should never have said it.>

<Apology accepted.>

He smiles, and for the first time he really looks like his daughter. He's got a smile that lights up a room, just like she does.

<Now, let's talk about your health.>

His demeanor changes completely, he knits his eyebrows, shakes his head, and throws his hands up <I didn't come here to talk about that.>

<Well, we're going to.>

<No, we're not.>

After that, the two of them become heated and Shiina stops translating. Her dad constantly interrupts her any time she tries to say something, clearly shutting her down.

They progressively get louder. And angrier. After a minute of this escalation, Shiina slams her fist on the table and turns to me, <I can't do this.>

She leaves the table in a huff, and goes to the bedroom and slams the door.

I'm about to follow her, but then I see Mr. Mikado's face. He looks really upset. Some of the contrition I saw when he apologized has reappeared. This leaves me feeling conflicted, and unsure what I should do.

It makes sense he's upset. He just had an intense argument with his daughter who he has lost contact with. But the argument is his fault. He's so unreasonable about this topic. I'm sure he's scared about his health and just wants to pretend everything's fine. But that's not doing anyone any favors.

I bite my lip for a moment as I look toward the bedroom and then back at him while deciding the best course of action.

My heart starts beating very fast as I decide what to do. Instead of thinking about it too much longer, I barrel ahead before anxiety can stop me.

I look at him and say, “I'm just g-going to say some things. A-and you're going to listen. And not interrupt. B-because I won't understand anything you say anyway.”

He turns toward me in surprise when I start speaking. He narrows his eyes at me for a moment and clenches his jaw. For a moment, I think he's going to tell me to go to hell. After all, that basically seems to be his go-to when it comes to this topic. But then, he relaxes and gives me a reluctant nod.

“I don't know you. I won't pretend I do. But I know Shiina, and how all of this has made her feel. S-so…let me tell you about that.”

He gives me another nod. 

“I found out about you when my cat almost died. It turned out she had diabetes. A-and without treatment she would have died. Shiina helped me at the vet and later that day she told me about you. It was the first time I ever saw her cry. She really loves you and misses you. A-and doesn't want to lose you.”

His face flinches a little at hearing how upset she was.

Maybe I'm getting through to him a little. I'm not done yet.

“I met Shiina because she was my teacher. She taught me sign and lip reading after I got hit by a car. I woke up in the hospital 10 days later and haven't understood a word of speech since then. What I'm saying is…I know that it s-sucks that one day something just…happened to you and now you have these new limitations. I know our situations aren't the same, exactly. But…for me to be happy and healthy, I had to learn to live with my new limitations. And respect them. And work hard. And sometimes it sucked. But I'm glad I did it all. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

He gives me an even more perfunctory nod this time. And he's starting to look aggravated. 

I better wrap things up.

“I don't know if I could have done it all, without your daughter's determination and optimism. But the good news is, you have her support too. If you'll take it.”

Suddenly all my courage leaves me, as he continues staring at me with serious anger behind his eyes. There are other emotions too, but there is definitely anger.

I look down at my hands, “O-okay, I'm done. Thank you for listening. S-sorry if it was annoying.”

Without stopping to see how he looks now, I stand up and turn around to head towards Shiina's room, worried that I left her alone too long when she's this upset.

After I take a couple of steps towards the room, the door cracks open and a tearful Shiina steps out. To my surprise, she runs towards me and hits me with a tackle-hug. 

“Oof!”

The force is more than I can take, and we end up on the ground, with her on top of me.

“Jeez, you trying to give me more brain damage?”

She laughs and wipes some tears, <Sorry. I kind of owed you one though, didn't I?>

I laugh wryly, “Yeah, you did.”

She plants a kiss on my lips and then signs, <I heard everything. Thank you.>

Her dad clears his throat in a very dad-like manner. I didn't have a dad of course, but it perfectly matched my conception of how a dad would clear his throat when catching his daughter in a compromising position that he wishes he wasn't seeing.

Shit. I kind of forgot he was still here. Must be from the head injury.

I start to feel embarrassed, but Shiina looks at him and lets out a “Wahaha!” She gets up, and then helps me up. She holds my hand for a long moment, and smiles at me. Then she starts speaking to her dad while signing for my benefit. 

<Everything Rei-kun said is true. And she's right about how I feel. I love you dad, I want to laugh and talk with you for a lot longer. Please take care of yourself.>

He nods, and lets out a long sigh. He says something, but his buzzing is barely audible to me, so I'm not surprised when Shiina doesn't sign anything.

<What?>

<I'll…do better with my health. Your mother's after me about it too.> He looks at me for a moment, <I just don't want to admit I've gotten old. And sick. But seeing you today shows me how grown up you are. And how old I am.> He grins, <You even finally have a serious girlfriend. Never thought I'd see the day.>

<Hey!>

He lets out a “Wahaha!” It’s deeper and less sing-songy than his daughter's laugh, but there's still no doubt who she got her laugh from.

He continues, <Anyway, I want to be around longer. I want to see more of you. So…I'll do better.>

Shiina leaves my side and goes to share a nice warm hug with her dad. He's much bigger and taller than she is. So it looks very cozy.

It's a very cute sight. I don't often feel like I'm missing something by not having a dad, but a big hug like that kind of has me feeling a little bit of envy.

Shiina must sense my feelings, because she gestures for me to come join the hug, which leads to me sputtering, “N-no, that's okay.”

The two of them let out a “Wahaha” in unison, and her dad gestures for me to come. I wasn't sure he was my biggest fan, but I guess he's decided I'm okay.

I sigh and make my way over to the pair of them. I try to only be on the periphery of the hug at first, but then Shiina pulls me into the very warm group hug.

…

Shiina and I are in bed for the night. I feel absolutely exhausted. It was my first week at my new job, which was incredibly draining, and then her father came over today. Thank God tomorrow is Sunday.

I'm very thankful to be in bed, and also very glad Haru is here too, purring happily on my stomach. I stay here more often than I do at home at this point, so Shiina suggested I just start bringing her with me. I was worried it would be hard for the old girl, but she's adapted quite well. It helps that she likes Shiina so much.

As I'm already starting to doze, Shiina taps me on the shoulder playfully.

I open my eyes and see her sitting up next to me with a smile. I close my eyes again and sign, <Too tired tonight. I'll make it up to you tomorrow.>

Now she scoffs and gives me a little shove, and when I open my eyes I see she has brought out her powerful pouty face, which always works to get me to do anything.

I sigh, “Let me go splash some cold water on my face. I'll wake up a little.”

She laughs, <That’s not what I want! Well, maybe after since you're offering.> She winks, <But I just wanted to talk.>

I close my eyes again, “Yes, and I just want to sleep.”

Shiina growls at me this time, making me laugh. 

I open my eyes again, <Okay, what is it?>

<I decided to go to Shizune's wedding.>

I close my eyes, “You're keeping me up to tell me you're going to your ex's wedding?”

This time she pinches my arm.

“Ow! Jeez.”

<She's not my ex! And you better not close your eyes again. I'm trying to say important stuff!>

I sit up to show her she has my attention, Haru gives me her annoyed meow and hops on the ground.

<Thank you for everything with my dad. It feels so good to have that off my chest after all these months. I need to do the same thing with Shizune. It hurts that we aren't as close as we were. But I need to get over it. She wants me to go to the wedding, so I'll go. Will you be my date?>

<Of course I will, but let me ask you something.>

Shiina nods, looking very serious.

<The wedding is in 6 months right? So couldn't you have let me sleep and told me tomorrow?>

She grits her teeth playfully and then I receive the second tackle-hug of the day as her response, but at least this time there was a soft landing.

Chapter Text

“A-are you sure this is okay?”

<Yeah, why wouldn't it be?>

Shiina and I are out shopping for our outfits for Shizune's wedding. It's a big western-style affair, so we have to dress formally. Shiina found a nice navy dress that she looks great in. But I'm having a harder time.

I bite my lip, <Won't it make some people mad?>

Shiina and I are in the dressing room now, and I'm trying on a charcoal gray suit jacket and slacks. 

Shiina shrugs, <Maybe a few people. What, are you going to put on a dress because of a few assholes?>

The mere thought of wearing a dress makes me shiver with disgust.

“N-no. I'm never wearing one.”

Shiina giggles, <So are you going to send me to a wedding without a date?>

I AM super anxious about this wedding. It will be the largest social event of my entire life. And there's a tiny voice in my head that wants to get out of going, but it's a lot quieter than it used to be. Especially when the alternative is sending Shiina to this important event all alone.

<No. Of course not.> I take a deep breath as I look at myself in the mirror. It's definitely a suit intended for a 12-year-old boy, but it fits me pretty nicely, and I feel comfortable in it. I try to focus on how much I like it. But anxiety about how people will perceive me bubbles back to the surface.

“Wh-what is Shizune's family like? That's who matters, right? Will it bother them?”

Shiina lets out an extra loud “Wahaha~”, <Not even a little bit.>

<You two look so good!> My mom enthusiastically signs before taking pictures of Shiina and I in our wedding garb.

“Thanks, mom.”

I'm at the apartment with my mom, Kaz, and Shiina. We're about to head to the wedding, and my mom wanted us to take pictures before we go. It's annoying, but I have refused to allow her to take pictures of me for a decade, so I guess I have to live with it now that I'm wearing fancy clothes and have a very photogenic girlfriend.

In the midst of the photography session, Kaz looks my way and signs, <You…look…sexy.>

“ I…what !?”

As Kaz looks taken aback by my reaction, Shiina and my mom laugh hysterically, making me sigh in frustration.

Any time the four of us are together, Shiina gives Kaz little sign language lessons, since he wants to learn so that he can communicate with me better. Clearly Shiina decided to have some fun with him when he asked how to tell me I look nice. 

I shake my head at my girlfriend, “That sweet man really wants to learn and you're giving him bad advice. I'm gonna have them take your teaching license away.”

Shiina laughs and speaks as she signs, <What? You do look sexy!>

I roll my eyes and reply, “Yes, and that’s an okay thing for my girlfriend to say. Not so much for my mom's boyfriend .”

Kaz looks horrified as all this is going on, and Shiina notices.

She frowns and speaks while signing, <Sorry. I thought it would be funny.>

My mom laughs, <It was!>

Kaz and I groan in unison, making the two of us laugh too.

We're both going out with women who are very free spirits. That's something we can bond over.

We're at the wedding ceremony. It's a church, which was a little surprising to me. One doesn't exactly meet a whole lot of Christians in Japan. They're around of course, but I've never met one.

Of course, before I met Shiina I didn't meet a whole lot of people in general.

As Shiina and I are sitting in a pew, I ask, <Is Shizune Christian?>

Shiina shrugs, with a hint of annoyance on her face, <She didn't used to be. But maybe she converted if her husband is.>

Hmm…a story where two Japanese women of different faiths fall in love might be interesting. Both of them struggling with their spiritual disagreements AND what their faiths have to say about homosexuality would be really dramatic and-

Shiina squeezes my hand, pulling me out of my head. She pouts, <Are you seriously thinking about your other girls right now?>

Woops. She doesn't mind when I do that when we're at home or whatever, but is not a fan of it when we're on a date. Which is fair.

I look around nervously. There are some other people here using sign language. Typically, we can use sign as a secret language and talk about whatever we want. But in this crowd, there are definitely people who understand what she just said. And if they did, it paints me in a very bad light.

I sign very clearly for anyone who might be eavesdropping, <Yes, I was thinking about a story idea.  Sorry. I don't need to do it right now.> I pat her hand, <I'll stay focused.>

She smiles with a nod, <If anything is ever overwhelming, tell me, okay?> She squeezes my hand.

I smile, <I will.>

Just as our conversation finishes, the music starts. Bridesmaids and groomsmen start to come down the aisle. One of the bridesmaids looks very much like Shizune. It must be her sister.

Eventually, the person we were all waiting for begins her procession down the aisle. She has her arm looped with a tall, intimidating looking man with wild, long blue hair. He's wearing a tight suit that makes it clear he is well-built. He looks kind of like he doesn't want to be here, which is not exactly the look I think most brides would want their father to have on their wedding day.

There's definitely a family resemblance. Especially their hair color and intimidating aura. But I don't think I would have guessed Shizune had a dad who looked like that.

I don't spend much time thinking about him, though. After all, Shizune is the bride. And she looks stunning. She's wearing a white wedding dress with a long train. The dress hugs her curvy figure, and bares her shoulders. She's wearing a headband with a very small net-like veil attached to it that doesn't go past her forehead. She's smiling broadly as she looks towards her almost-husband at the end of the aisle.

She isn't wearing her glasses, and I'm briefly tempted to ask Shiina if she's disappointed about that, but I think better of it.

When Shizune and her father reach the end of the aisle, the two briefly hug, and her father sits down in the front row with a bit of a scowl on his face.

What's the deal with this guy? Does he not like Shizune's fiancee?

As the priest begins the ceremony, a man off to the side signs as he speaks. I'm a little surprised by this, but really shouldn't be given that the bride (and maybe her husband?) are hearing impaired.

Man, life would be so much easier for me if there was always someone signing. Wait, why isn't that a thing? There are enough of us out there who need it.

As I stop paying attention to the words when the priest starts discussing the Bible and Sacraments, I study Shizune's soon-to-be husband.

He's a tall man with a trim physique and short, closely cropped black hair. He looks like he's probably in his 30s, so he must be several years older than Shizune. His brown eyes are sharp and confident. I imagine Shizune needs a partner who can match wits and words with her at a moment's notice, and while it's hard to know for sure just from his appearance, I'm pretty sure this man is a match for her.

Eventually the ceremony ends, and the two kiss, prompting a high-pitched celebratory squeal out of my date and many others in attendance. Even though I don't really know them, I find it hard not to smile and applaud myself.

 …

We're at the reception now. Shiina and I found our table, and then she ran off to the restroom. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now that lots of people are milling about I start to panic a little. 

Some of these people might expect me to talk to them.

I start to nervously look around for Shiina, hoping she comes back before anyone else sits down at our table. But, when I turn back around, I see my greatest fear has been realized - someone sat down two seats away from me when I wasn't looking.

She looks foreign, way more so than Madoka. She has light blue eyes, very fair skin, and beautiful long blond hair. She's sitting, but I get the impression that she's quite tall, too.

As I'm looking around and trying to decide what I should do, she looks my way, smiles warmly, and says, “Bzbzbzbzbzj.”

My heart rate goes up as I almost allow myself to be pulled into an anxiety attack. But I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and say,

“I-I'm sorry, I'm hearing impaired and can't understand speech very well. I can read lips reasonably well, but I'll do better if you can write.” I pull out my notepad and pen that I have in my suit jacket for exactly this purpose and brandish them toward her. But I'm puzzled when she doesn't reach out for them.

Instead, she nods without a hint of surprise on her face. Not the usual reaction I get. Then she gets out her phone and says something to it.

After a moment, she shows me the screen, which is showing the usual garbled voice recognition message that I have come to expect.

“I'm Lilly. Did you go two Xanadu?”

I squint as I read the message and try to make sense of it. It takes three attempts, but then I put it all together when I remember the name of the high school Shiina went to. 

“I'm Reina. And n-no, I didn't go to Yamaku. But u-um my girlfriend did. Shiin- …I mean, Misha.”

She smiles from ear to ear and claps her hands together and says something. Then her cheeks turn a little pink as she realizes I didn't understand her. 

She delicately moves her hand on the table, tapping it around, while still looking in my general direction. I'm not sure why at first, but then I see her hand touch her phone and she picks it up.

Ohhh. She's blind. No wonder she's using her phone this way. She probably can't write very easily. Deaf and blind people have a hell of a time communicating. She can't see sign language or write very well and I can't understand speech.

She says something into her phone and shows it to me,

“I adore Me Shah! I was on study cancel with her.”

It takes me a couple of reads, but I figure it out again. It's starting to feel like a word game. 

“Oh! That's really cool. Then that's how you know Shizune?”

She nods and says something else to her phone and shows it to me,

“I've know she zoo nay quite a bit lunker. I'm also her cuisine.”

As I squint at the message and try to make sense of it, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I look up to see Madoka. She says something to Lilly and then signs and speaks at the same time,  <Do you want some help talking to her?>

I laugh, “I think we're doing okay.”

Lilly nods with a smile, and then I look at the baffling message before me, so I say, “Actually, I think a little help would be nice.”

Madoka laughs and tells me that Lilly is Shizune's cousin, and suddenly things make a lot more sense.

Before long, Akane and Shiina join us at the table, which makes conversation so much easier. Everyone at the table knows sign language apart from Lilly, and they all keep me in the loop when they are speaking, and Shiina signs everything Lilly says.

I'm starting to settle in with this group of mostly-familiar faces. It's kind of like a cocoon protecting me from all the strangers around me.

But then, I'm startled by a slap on my shoulder. I turn to see a red-eyed woman with short blonde hair cut into a choppy bob standing over me. She's wearing a pin-striped suit and has a can of beer in her hand. She says something to me with a wry grin, and Shiina laughs before signing, <That’s Akira. Lilly's sister. She says there can only be one woman in a suit at every wedding, so you'll have to go.>

I start to feel overwhelmed.

I think she's joking but I'm not sure. Maybe she really doesn't like that I wore a suit? Did I steal her thunder? Is it her thing?

Shiina squeezes my hand, clearly reading my frantic mind, <She's just joking.>

I let out a relieved sigh, smile at Akira and say, “I'm kind of glad I'm not the only one.”

Akira winks and says something that Shiina translates for me, <You look great in it. Almost as good as me.>

I feel my cheeks get hot, “Th-thank you.” 

Akira gives me a smile and then takes a seat next to her sister.

…

It's a couple of hours later and we've eaten a delicious meal and enjoyed the festivities. I even let Shiina drag me on the dance floor for a few dances. I was pretty anxious about it, but having her pressed all against me in her dress mostly distracted me from my fear that everyone was watching me make a fool of myself. 

Shiina just came back to the table from the dance floor. She looks uncharacteristically nervous. She signs, <Apparently, Shizune has asked that we join she and her husband on the balcony.>

<We? As in…also me?>

Shiina laughs, <Yep. I don't know what it's about either.> She loops her arms with mine, clearly saying, “Shall we?” I do all I can to show her my support by squeezing her arm tight as we head towards the balcony.

As we head outside, there is a welcome blast of cooler air. The reception hall has gotten quite hot, and it's refreshing. Then, we see Shizune and her husband sitting at a table together. They've both dressed down a little. Shizune's veil is gone and her glasses are back, and her husband has removed his tie.

Shizune gestures for us to join them, so we do. Shiina starts jiggling her leg nervously as soon as we sit down. I remember how she got me to be distracted from my anxiety earlier, so I gently place my hand on her thigh under the table. It has the intended effect, as she smiles at me and looks a little less worried about this interaction.

Shizune gets the conversation started, <Thank you so much for coming, Misha. Really. It means so much to me that you're here.> 

Shiina replies, <Yeah, thanks for inviting us.>

Then Shizune looks at me, <You're a very lucky girl you know.>

I smile, <I know. Sometimes it doesn't seem real.>

Her smile grows, <I can see you really believe that. I'm very happy for both of you.>

Shiina smiles at Shizune and then looks to her husband, <I'm very happy for you two of course.>

Shizune's eyes get wide, <Oh! I should have introduced you.>

The husband smiles and signs, <It’s okay if you'd rather talk to Misha than introduce me. It's not like it's our wedding day or anything.>

Shizune shoots him a playful glare and signs, <This is Minato. Minato, this is Misha and her girlfriend, Reina.>

We all exchange the usual pleasantries and then Shizune signs, <I really regret not doing more to keep in touch with you, Misha, and I know this doesn't make up for it, but I thought it would be nice for the four of us to be alone together to get to know each other a little better.>

Shiina smiles, <It doesn't make up for it all the way. But it's close. You carved time out of your wedding day for me. That's big.>

Shiina looks at Minato for a moment and then signs, <How did you two meet?>

Shizune replies, <Minato runs a charity for the disabled, and when I was working towards starting my own, a mutual friend introduced us and he became my mentor. Before long he was my boyfriend.>

Minato frowns, <Do you have to put it like that? It makes me sound like a creep.>

Shiina and I both laugh and Shiina signs, <It’s okay. I'm a creep too.> She looks towards me, <I met Reina because she was my student.>

Shizune nods with a mischievous grin, <Yes, you're both creeps.> She shakes her head, <Going after your younger charges like that. Very distasteful.> She looks towards me with a smile and I get the message.

<Yep. Total creeps. But that's okay. We love you both anyway.>

…

Shiina and I are back in the main reception hall after spending some time with Shizune and Minato. Almost immediately after our return, I see Madoka coming my way with worry very evident on her face. 

Oh, crap. All of my own anxiety, and then Shiina's, pushed this very important thing clear out of my head. 

I send Shiina back to our table and tell her I'm going to the restroom. 

Madoka and I meet in the restroom as planned, and she signs, <Where have you been! It's almost time, I was looking everywhere for you.>

<Sorry. Shizune wanted to talk to us. Are you ready?>

She shakes her head, <I'm freaking out. I don't know if I can do it.>

<Well, you don't have to. You can do it another time.>

Madoka shakes her head and chews on her lip, <I don't know. This is a good opportunity with lots of our friends here and Shizune gave me her blessing. And it's a crowd who mostly won't have a problem with it.>

I roll my eyes, <You make it sound like I'm the one saying you shouldn't do it.>

Madoka giggles, <Sorry. I'm crazy.>

I put my hands on her shoulders and give them a squeeze, <I'll support you, whatever you decide. That's my point.>

She nods nervously and says, <I'm gonna do it. Do you have it?>

I nod, <Of course,> and I hand her something that was concealed in my suit jacket.

She takes the object in her hand, and then starts to tear up.

<What's wrong?>

She sniffles, <I'm glad about the move but…I'm gonna miss you.>

I hug her and say, “I'm going to miss you too. But save your tears for later. You don't want to ruin your make up right now.”

She nods, and breaks the hug. She gives herself a careful once-over in the mirror before nodding to herself, <Let's go.>

Not long after we get back to our table, Shizune appears on the stage where the band is performing and she starts to sign. The bridesmaid who looks like her (her sister?) speaks into the microphone, relaying her message I assume, but I focus on Shizune.

<I hope everyone here is having a wonderful night. Thank you so much for coming out to celebrate our marriage. While Minato and I are now married, there are two friends of mine who are just about to head down the same path.> She looks towards our table, <Akane, you were such a great mentor to me during our time at Yamaku. And we really became good friends. I'm a little sad you'll be moving overseas soon, but I know that you have a lovely life ahead of you.>

Akane looks beyond confused that her moving is worthy of an announcement at a wedding. But then her girlfriend stands up, and kneels next to her, holding the object I had in my suit jacket. Akane looks at her, clearly flabbergasted.

Shiina smiles as she sees what's happening, and she starts signing when Madoka starts speaking so that I can stay in the loop.

<Akane, you're the first and only person I've ever loved. And…I don't want to ever love anyone else. I just…I want to be with you forever. We're moving to Hawaii together but…I hope that's not all.> She opens the ring box, <Will you marry me?>

Akane looks stunned and for what feels like an eternity she doesn't say anything. But then she smiles and gives an energetic nod. She stands up and holds out her hand excitedly and Madoka puts the ring on her finger. Then she stands up and Akane pulls her towards her. They share a long kiss, resulting in applause and excitement all around them.

After enjoying the spectacle, I look at my beautiful, sweet, airheaded girlfriend standing next to me.

Before I met her, I didn't think a life like this was ever going to be possible for me. But it is. She helped me see that. I could never have imagined going to a wedding before I met her, but here I am.

We've seen some very big expressions of love today. We saw Shizune and Minato get married, and now Akane and Madoka are engaged. Both of these events have made me realize that I want to go down the same path as them.

I want to share my life with Shiina. Part of me wants to propose here and now, but I reel myself back in. We've only been together for a year. And I don't have a ring or anything, and I'm definitely not planning on proposing in front of hundreds of people. Or stealing Madoka's thunder.

So I suggest something a little less radical, and I do it quietly. After tapping on Shiina's shoulder I sign, <Do you want to move in together?>

She squeals and squeezes me tight for a long moment before excitedly signing, <I would love that.> 

She plants a quick kiss on my lips and then signs, <You know, you told Shizune that you can't believe you're with me sometimes. I feel just as lucky. I can't wait to start a life together with you. I love you so much, Rei-kun.>

She takes my hand and rests her head on my shoulder as we watch people come to congratulate the newly engaged couple.

For a very brief moment, I find it hard to believe that she could feel that way. But it quickly dissipates. She shows me all the time that she loves me and cherishes my presence in her life. 

I'm loved by such an amazing woman. A woman who has even helped me see value in myself that I didn't know was there.

I'm worthy of her love. I finally understand that.

I kiss the top of her head and say, “Well, I guess we're both lucky, then.”

FIN