“You have a really good ear!” The man stops bobbing back and forth, placing a hand on the small of my back as he leans in close. “Wanna get a drink?” He offers his arm. We pass by Yoshino on the way to the bar. She pauses in her grinding between two dudes to tap me on the shoulder and press her hand to her mouth, opening in an exaggerated mock gasp.

The salaryman leans up against the bar, murmurs something to Marcy as he holds up two fingers. While Marcy serves us our drinks, it hits me that I have no idea what I’m going to talk to this guy about that isn’t the usual line of questioning. When the salaryman asks, “How long will you stay in Japan?” I breathe a huge sigh of relief. We can keep this interaction short and sweet.

“I’m actually going back home in three months!” I take a proud sip of my drink. It’s a Fuzzy Navel. My first in months, come to think of it. It’s good, but it tastes … funny … almost like real peach juice. I guess after all that lotus-y sangria anything is bound to taste strange.

“What?! Aw, come on! Seriously? Why?! You got a boyfriend waiting for you back home? Nothing good enough to keep you here?”

For the first time in ages, my answer is all tied up in my tongue. “It’s just … time for me to go.”

The man leans forward, eyes glinting with the neon blue of the overhead lights. “What would it take to change your mind?”

I swallow half my drink to avoid coughing it back up in shock. What a question. “I’ve already signed the resignation form, dude.”

“No. I mean, what if you found a reason to stay? I mean, a really good reason. Would you change your mind?”

“Ha! It would have to be a freaking good reason.”

He smiles, pleased. Apparently, it was the answer he wanted to hear. “If I tell you something, promise you won’t be mad?”

“No.”

The man’s smile widens, like a Cheshire cat. He leans over, pressing his stubbled cheek against mine. “I have a confession to make: your sister sent me to come and get you. She’s waiting for you. Outside.”

“My WHAT?!”

“Ah, ah, you promised — oh wait, you didn’t promise. Well, she’s still outside. Waiting for you. She said you’d be mad.” He offers his arm again. “Come on.”