‘If that were the case, she would have told me.’

Liyun chuckled. ‘Are you sure?’

He couldn’t respond. The truth was, more and more, Shoji had started to wonder if he did know Yoko, and if what they’d had had been real. He had wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but what about her? How had she felt about him?

Liyun looked into Shoji’s eyes. ‘Leaving without saying a word is one way to dump someone. Some women are bad with farewells, they slip away quietly. You should take the hint.’ She clapped her hands twice. ‘Wake up.’

He averted his eyes. ‘Direct, aren’t you?’

‘Just say it: “You’re not nice, Liyun.” I’m used to it. I’ve got a reputation for being blunt, and I plan to live up to that.’ Liyun topped up Shoji’s glass. ‘Drink up. It will make you feel better.’

‘I’m not sad.’ He had long ago graduated from that phase.

‘Actually, I’m not seeing anyone, and I’m getting old.’ She drank her beer, seemingly not paying attention to what he’d said. ‘Maybe we should pair up. Can I be your girlfriend?’

He ignored her.

Liyun pursed her lips, pretending to be upset. ‘That’s a flat rejection, isn’t it?’

Shoji finished his drink. ‘Some men are bad with rejections, they keep quiet.’

‘Ha!’ She laughed, and poured him more beer. ‘You’re good. You’re funny.’

He took another gulp. ‘I didn’t see you last year.’

‘I couldn’t come.’ She paused. ‘The reunion was in September instead of December. The date happened to fall around the same period as the anniversary of my brother’s death. I always return to Singapore that week.’

Her honest answer caught him by surprise. He wasn’t used to such candour, especially from women. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s all right. I mean, it’s been years.’ She gazed at the rows of bottles displayed behind the bar. ‘He used to travel a lot. I keep on imagining he’s away on another trip and, once he runs out of money, he’ll return, looking more ruffled and tanned.’

‘Uh-huh,’ he mumbled, not knowing how else to respond. He sometimes imagined Yoko returning, what she might look like now.

‘Have you heard of this saying? Often, we only realise how precious something is after we’ve lost it,’ Liyun continued, tilting her head with a thin smile.

He felt a familiar weight in his chest.

‘What have you been doing?’ Liyun turned to Shoji, jovial again, though he sensed it was forced. ‘Did you become a CEO too?’

‘I’m just a poor writer,’ he said.

Her face beamed. ‘You’re penning the great Japanese novel?’

‘Nothing as fancy,’ he said. ‘I write articles for magazines.’

‘What kind?’

‘All sorts of stuff. Travel, wine and dine, men’s magazines — you name it.’

‘That’s a range,’ Liyun said. ‘I just arrived in Tokyo a few weeks ago.’

Shoji finished his drink.

‘I had to return to Singapore because my mother had an operation. She’s fine. It was minor knee surgery, but she kept exaggerating how much it hurt. Perhaps that was her way of saying she wanted me to stay there longer.’ Liyun ordered another bottle. ‘I’m taking a break right now. I haven’t decided if I should finish my studies or find a job.’