Before I can stop myself, I throw my arms around his neck. He laughs, staggering against the scooter a little, but his reciprocal hug is stronger than the first. Without another word I run into my building. I can’t help peering through the glass of my front door to watch him go. He doesn’t move an inch until the door clicks locked. He gives a little wave goodbye with his long fingers, re-straps his helmet.

A sudden thought occurs to me. I throw open the door. “Get home safe,” I call out. His smile turns a little sad for a brief moment, but he nods yes before he takes off.

Upstairs, I lean against my genkan door, feeling tired and giddy all at once. I haven’t felt this amazing in years. My body slides down the door as I let out the biggest breath of air I didn’t know I’d been holding. What a week. I still don’t quite understand what happened today, aside from having the best date I’ve had my whole life. My eyes close, and I can still see his face — his sharp piercing eyes, his soft-looking mouth — and hear his voice, promising me I haven’t seen the last of him. I curl up on the floor and turn on the heater to get some warmth into my fingers and toes. Just a minute or two here, and then I’ll take a bath or find something to eat. Just another minute, here, on the floor …

I’m so sleepy.

But it’s okay. I’m home.

twelve and a half

Zaniel manages to get the scooter back to his grandmother’s place in Fuse, where she makes him a surfeit of food and wants to hear all about why he borrowed her scooter so last minute. She scolds him about why can he not be a real man and get his own car and a house, he is going to have to stop sponging off her eventually, and so on and so forth, the way all grandmothers tend to do. When he tells her about his date, she exclaims in shock. She wants to hear all about her. Zaniel shows her a picture of the girl on his phone. “She dream-walks, like me,” he tells her.

“Bijin!” his grandmother shouts over and over again. “Aitai, aitai!” She demands he bring her over for a meal. “Can she eat tempura?” she asks. “Can she use chopsticks? Can she speak Japanese? I can’t speak English! What will I do?” To Zaniel, it is one of those cute displays of youthfulness with which his grandmother spoils him every time he comes to visit.