“No, I do know! I get it! And I love it! I mean, I admire it. I wish I could enjoy being with other people, the way you do. It’s wonderful to see it in real life. Seeing you today … it makes me think there’s hope for people like us. Like, there’s hope for me. Do you know what I mean?”

“I …” I pause. Maybe I do get what he means. Teaching doesn’t come naturally to everybody and working with kids doesn’t gel with everyone. How many people would recoil at a child like Hitomu leaping on top of them and burying their wet faces in their chests? Maybe this guy’s just paying me a genuine compliment. And let’s be fair, this isn’t the first time a total stranger has laid out their life story to me. But I still can’t help repressing a shudder when I think about how his face, even his name, has been plaguing me all day. It scares me. It scares me more that he’s still hanging around me. What possible interest can this super-cute guy have in someone like me?

I have to get out of here. It’s time.

“Gochisousama deshita,” I thank the fox man, and reach for my jacket and purse. When he sees me take out my wallet, the fox man waves his hands. I break out the English. “No, please! I had two bowls! I have to give you something!”

“No, no!” He replies in English and gestures to Zaniel. “Friend already pay. His treat! So kind, yes? Ah, wait! Maybe … not friend?” He holds up his pinky finger and gives us a sly wink. “Whoo!”

I can feel my face burning as I smile and bow my appreciation again. The fox man tells me to come back anytime.

Zaniel looks up at me from his stool. I can’t even look him in the eye. “Thanks for the food,” I blurt out.

Then I make a run for it. It’s raining now, not so hard that I have to stop and dig out my portable umbrella, but I don’t get very far.

“Hey, lady!” Someone yells in perfect English. “You forgot something!”

“I’m okay, thanks,” I shout back.

A bell rings right behind me. Zaniel is there, on my bike. There’s a white box in a tiny plastic bag sitting in the basket, along with my big umbrella. “You sure? This looks pretty important. You might want it back someday.”

“Give it back.”

His eyebrow lifts. “Ah, so it is important. How could you forget your bike, silly?”

“Get off and give it back.”

“Man, talk about ancient.” His long thin fingers fiddle with the bicycle bell. Everyone passing us gives him a dirty look for making so much unnecessary noise. “I’m surprised it hasn’t taken on a life of its own yet.”