‘Of course! I love it. This is the sort of place my brother …’ Her voice trailed off. She was quiet for a moment before continuing, ‘In the past, my brother and I would go for dinner at fancy places like this. He was quite a food connoisseur, really, and a meticulous planner too. He would make the booking months in advance, insisting on the best table in the restaurant. If you ask me, I wouldn’t bother. It’s not like the meat is juicier when you get the prettiest table.’

Shoji forced an uncomfortable smile.

‘But this is different.’ Her tone turned serious. She seemed to notice his unease. ‘This is a super-nice place. The food will taste better.’

He laughed. She tried too hard.

‘How did you manage to snag this spot?’ Liyun asked. ‘Are you a regular?’

‘Not really. I’ve only been here twice. The first was a celebratory treat from my senior after I got promoted to full-time. The second time I came alone.’

‘This is the third time?’

‘Uh-huh.’

The waiter came out with two glasses of wine. Liyun proposed a toast. Shoji swirled his glass, inhaling the aroma before taking the first sip. A medium-bodied red wine, it had a velvety texture and a nice backbone.

‘Are you familiar with the rambutan wood they use to smoke the meat?’ Liyun asked.

He tilted his head. ‘Rambutan is a fruit, isn’t it?’

She nodded. ‘It’s the name of the tropical tree, but also the fruit. Have you tried it?’

‘Not yet.’

‘I had one in Bali. The skin was red and leathery, and it was covered with short, pliable spines resembling hair. Once you peel the skin, you can see the white flesh. The fruit tastes sweet and juicy.’ She bit her lip, seemingly thinking hard. ‘Kind of similar to lychee.’

‘Interesting.’

‘The waiter who served me said he came from South Sulawesi. He said his parents live in a house on a street named Rambutan.’ She turned to him. ‘And guess what? In Singapore, there is another street called Rambutan.’

‘Uh-huh. Do you travel overseas often?’

‘Now and then. My brother was the traveller really,’ she said. ‘What about you?’

‘I’ve never been out of Japan,’ he said, and then he thought of Yoko.

Before they got together, she’d travelled out of the country alone a lot. Armed with a worn-out backpack and little money, with not much planned ahead of time, she had plenty of guts. Whenever she talked about her overseas trips, Shoji used to think she seemed invincible, as if she could do anything she put her mind to.