At First Sight

Mei glanced over her shoulder like a nervous child, worried her bodyguards had realized she’d snuck out of the hotel. She wanted nothing more than a few hours to be herself – Mei – before she’d have to put on the pink wig and become Sakura. Just a small sliver of time to explore this city as a normal Japanese tourist – not a J-pop star constantly harassed by paparazzi. And her agent Aina Sato had said American paparazzi were the worst.

‘Goldsman University station. Doors opening on the right.’

Mei stepped off the tram car and made her way up the escalator, out of the hot and humid underground metro tunnels and appearing at the street surface. A cold breeze caressed her hair, blowing black ribbons against her rosy cheeks. She brushed her bubblegum skirt and adjusted her knee-high socks, ensuring the little bows were facing forward. February in Washington D.C. was colder than Mei had thought it would be, so she shivered on her phone-guided walk to the university. The nipping winter air didn’t bother her though – she was determined to see the sakura before nightfall.

A few blocks from the station, the concrete streets transformed into cobblestone paths lined with old red brick buildings. Mei was amazed at the architecture – she heard this was a long-standing prestigious university in America, but she had no idea the campus so resembled olden times. White columns rose high above her head, creating narrow porches for brick castles with large colorful doors. Mei smiled from ear to ear, thinking this scene would be perfect for a music video.

But, which song should I film this scene for? Kawaii Girlii is too cutesy, and Love Letter is too dark –

Mei turned a corner and there it was – the famous American sakura orchard.

Frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, all Mei could do was stare at the hundreds of blossom-pink petals dancing like fairies, swaying with grace and finesse. She became so overwhelmed by the beautiful show that she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps thumping behind her.

Bump!

Mei fell to the ground, catching herself with her hands. She let out a cry as pain exploded in her knee.

“Oh my, I – I’m so sorry!”

“You better be,” Mei hissed. But when she turned around, all feelings of anger and rage melted away like snow.

His eyes were the perfect shade of blue – crystal but not icy, pale but not gray. His nose round but not bulbous, his lips bright red from the cold. Chestnut locks draped over his straight eyebrows, casting a playful shadow upon his shocked expression. A strong chin faded into high cheekbones that framed his face with perfection. This boy checked ever box for a male model to star in one of Mei’s music videos.

Am I… dreaming? Mei thought.

“Oh no, can you not hear?” the boy said. Mei snapped out of her fantasy.

“Sorry, no, I can hear you,” she said, suddenly realizing he was bending down towards her, arm extended.

“Let me help you up then,” the boy said. Mei gently took his hand – it was strong and warm with worn callouses.

“I’m sorry I ran into you,” the boy said in an accent Mei had only heard in movies. It was a type of American accent – what was it called? Appalachia?

“I was so consumed in thought, I guess I didn’t see you,” the boy said.

“It’s okay,” Mei said. “It happens. I get lost in my head too, ha ha.”

Stop it Mei, that was a dumb response.

“I’m Keaton,” the boy said, extending out his hand to shake Mei’s. But before his callouses could tickle her hand again, Keaton exclaimed:

“Oh no, you’re bleeding!”

Keaton pointed to Mei’s left knee. Red blood had soaked through her snowy sock.

“I’m so sorry,” he said frantically, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a faded maroon cloth. He knelt and tied the rag around Mei’s knee. Mei stood in bewilderment.

“I have some bandages and ointment in my dorm, it’s just around the corner,” Keaton said. “If you’re comfortable following me-”

“Okay,” Mei said, not fully realizing what she had just agreed to.

“Alright, well, it’s this way,” Keaton said, standing and motioning to the right. He and Mei began walking at a slow pace. As they walked, his name – Keaton – lingered on Mei’s lips like sweet candy. It was almost enough to keep her distracted from the cold.

And from the fact that she was going to be in so much trouble when Aina found out what she was about to do.

“You’re shivering,” Keaton said at the edge of the sakura orchard. “Here.”

He removed his navy-blue university jacket and placed it over Mei’s shoulders. Instantly, a fire erupted inside Mei’s chest, and she could feel her cheeks beginning to blush.

As a world-famous J-pop star, Mei had dated lots of men. Actors. Models. Athletes. But never had one of those crushes ignited a fire like this in her heart. It was brighter than anything she had ever experienced – bright as a star – she thought.

Mei began humming a tune in her head as she followed Keaton to his dormitory.