Chapter 2 - Problems

Me, I was staring above me at an azure dragon coiled around a silver star on a black silk banner. Below it were the words: Honor the past. Shape the future. The motto of Kyōto Seiryū High School.I could do one, but not the other.

It was three o’clock, which meant sōji—the daily after-school cleaning period. It also meant I had nine hours left.

“You look upset, cowboy.” Her English wasn’t bad. Actually, I’d say it was probably the best in our homeroom.

Amamiya Shizuki was the girl I was trying very hard not to fall for in this turn of the loop. But like all the others, she would soon be a memory. Snow Bird from the Black Hills, Rosa from Mexico, Yu Lien from Yong Cho.

All precious.

All gone.

“Hey! Are you listening, cowboy?”

“Sorry, Shizuki. My head’s not connected today. I’m lost in some memories.”

“Are you homesick?”

“Maybe a little. You know you can talk to me in Japanese if you feel more comfortable. I’m pretty damn good at it.”

“Yes, you are. Which raises the question: why? You say you’re from Texas. You certainly sound Texan, but you speak fluent Japanese. Not only that, I heard you speaking with the exchange students the other day. The Chinese and Indian exchange students said you spoke their languages fluently.”

“So, you were checking me out?”

Her face flushed red. “That’s not the point! How do you know so many languages?”

“The gods have smiled on me?”

“You’re impossible!”

“And yet here I stand, scientifically disproving your hypothesis.”

“You’re exhausting. Are we still going for boba after we finish here?”

“Fett or tea?”

She started to raise a fist, and I raised my hands in a placating gesture.

“Tea. Definitely tea. And yes, we’re still going.”

“All right, I’ll be waiting out front.”

I smiled as she walked away.

Then my smile faded

.I remembered the first time I saw her.

Shizuki Amamiya stood alone beneath the courtyard’s cherry tree. Her blue-black hair stirred in the wind, but her dark school uniform remained immaculate. A thin red cord circled her left wrist.

Everyone else hurried past without looking up.

Shizuki was staring directly at me.

Which should have been impossible.

I was still Dead Walking.

Even now, I didn’t know how she had seen me.

Back in the present, I returned my broom to the storage closet and went to meet her.

What can I say about the love that would never be mine?

Shizuki was sixteen, slender, and a little shorter than average. Her hair fell just past her shoulders, and her dark-gray eyes turned almost silver in strong light. She looked delicate.

She wasn’t.

People made that mistake all the time.

And yeah, she was hot. Center-of-the-sun hot. I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Most of the boys at school would have traded a kidney for one date with her.

Shizuki wasn’t interested.

She barely spoke to most of them.

But she spoke to me.

She was the straight woman in our little comedy duo, and the other guys hated me for it.

She also never removed the red cord around her left wrist. She never explained it, either.

Shizuki spoke softly, rarely wasted words, and had an unnerving habit of staring into empty spaces as though someone—or something—stood there. Whenever I asked about it, she claimed she was lost in thought.

I knew there was more to it than that.

And I had less than nine hours to convince her to tell me.

When I reached the main entrance, Hōjō Tetsuya was waiting with a pair of his yes-men.

Great.

I really didn’t have time for this pretty-boy asshole.

Hōjō was constantly trying to get Shizuki’s attention, and she shot him down every time. Somehow, he had decided that was my fault.

So, he tried to goad me into fights.

Usually, I used my quick wit and quicker mouth to make him look like an idiot. Then he stormed off in an embarrassed rage.

Today, he looked determined to skip the humiliation and proceed directly to the violence.“Mr. Texas,” he said. “You don’t have an audience to perform for this time. Why don’t we have a private discussion in the gym?”

It didn’t matter what language you spoke—smart-ass always sounded the same.

Arrogance was universal.

So was being a dick.

“What’s wrong, Hōjō?” I answered in perfect Japanese. “Did your reflection stop complimenting you?”

His jaw tightened, and he stepped toward me.

Then it hit me.

This was my last day.

I would never see this jerk again. I could kick the ever-loving shit out of him and never face a single consequence.

Oh.

This changed everything.

Come on, Ken doll. Make my last day memorable.

I settled into a fighting stance.

“Gentlemen, what seems to be the issue?”

The voice echoed through the entrance hall.We turned to find Tōdō-sensei standing in the doorway of the principal’s office.

Lovely.

Tōdō-sensei was Kyōto Seiryū High School’s martial arts coach. He had also been pretty-boy Hōjō’s karate instructor since the kid was three.

If my calculations were correct, we had both started training at the same age. That gave him thirteen years of experience.

I had started five hundred and seventy-two years ago, the first time I was three.

Granted, I hadn’t been alive for all of those years, but details.I liked my odds.Tōdō-sensei folded his arms and looked between us.

“I’m waiting for an answer.”

An evil grin spread across Hōjō’s face. “Steele claims karate is inferior to every other martial art. I offered to demonstrate karate’s superiority—with the help of two advanced students.”

“I see.” Tōdō-sensei’s face was impassive.

That was when Shizuki came through the doors. She saw the situation unfolding. I raised my hand, indicating for her to please wait.

“What are your thoughts on this, Steele-kun?”

“I already have plans for the evening. However, this shouldn’t take long, so I’m okay with it.” I looked at Shizuki. “Would that be all right with you?”

Her eyes widened. I smiled at her.

After a moment, she smiled back.

“That would be fine, cowboy.”

I could practically hear Hōjō’s blood boil when she called me that. Her familiarity with me drove him apeshit, and I was all in for that.

Tōdō-sensei looked between Hōjō and me. “If every participant agrees, this will be a supervised sparring demonstration. School rules apply. I stop the match the instant anyone loses control. Understood?”

Hōjō and his two friends nodded.

So did Shizuki.

She didn’t need to, but it was nice to know she agreed.

In fifteen minutes, we found ourselves facing each other in the gym. Oh, but it got more interesting. Somehow, in that short amount of time, text messages had blown up the universe, and a flood of students had entered the gym while we were changing.

Evidently, Hōjō wanted an audience while he attempted to kick my ass. This might be fun.

Hōjō stood proudly on the mat, his black belt still looking ironed and folded into a perfect knot. He was laughing and playing up to the students. His two yes-men had changed into karategi and wore brown belts. I decided to call them Ding and Dong.

They were about to get their bells rung.

Meanwhile I stood next to Shizuki. I was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a white tank top.Tōdō-sensei approached me.“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a karategi?”

“No, thank you, Tōdō-sensei.

”The instructor then lowered his voice. “Are you sure you wish to do this? Hōjō-kun may be an insufferable ass, but he earned that belt.”

“Yes.”

“Hōjō requested a three-man demonstration. His two classmates first, then him.”

“So, I have to unwrap the presents before I get to the disappointment inside? Yeah, whatever works.”

He nodded and stepped back.

“Are you prepared?”

 His voice was loud now.

“Yes!” I replied, just as loud.

He walked to the center of the matted area, and the crowd fell silent.

Tōdō-sensei indicated my three opponents.

“These are today’s demonstrators. Two are advanced students. The third considers himself a master.

”Hōjō’s smile twitched.

“No one truly masters the martial arts,” I said.

“Eh?” Hōjō laughed.

Tōdō-sensei silenced him with a raised hand, then looked at me.

“Explain.”

“The true opponent in martial arts is yourself. Every day, you strive to surpass the person you were yesterday. And you never forget that someone better is always out there.”

“And you’re about to meet him, gaijin!”

That came from Ding.Or maybe Dong.I didn’t know.

They were both morons.

Tōdō-sensei called Ding, whose real name was Nakumoto, and me to the center of the mat. 

“Rei,” he said.

Ding bent at the waist with a formal bow, his eyes never leaving me. I pressed my right fist into my open left palm and inclined my head.

“Matte! Return to your positions,” Tōdō-sensei called.

Ding looked confused. I had a pretty good idea what had caught Tōdō-sensei’s attention. We separated and walked back to our sides of the mat.

Tōdō-sensei approached me.

“That was a Chinese salute. Which style will you be demonstrating?”

“They’re using karate, so for the first match I’ll use Hop Gar to control the distance and Hou Quan to screw up his rhythm.”

“Hop Gar and Hou Quan?” His smile widened until I thought his cheeks might split. “Now this should be interesting.”

He looked toward the equipment rack. He raised his voice for everyone to hear. 

“Both fighters will wear open-finger sparring gloves and padded foot guards. Light contact to the head. No attacks to the eyes, throat, groin, knees, or small joints. Controlled joint locks and holds are permitted. The first fighter to score two points wins. A submission ends the match immediately. Understood?” 

“Understood,” I said.

Across the mat, Hōjō’s smile vanished. Apparently, he had expected an execution, not a fair fight.

As I strapped on the gloves and foot guards, a thought occurred to me. Maybe Tōdō-sensei had been waiting for someone to put Hōjō in his place. The arrogant dick had bullied people and gotten his way for far too long. Maybe his teacher had decided it was time to knock him down a peg—or drop him all the way to the bottom of the pecking order.

Then again, maybe Tōdō-sensei simply wanted Hōjō to learn that victory was never guaranteed.

Fine by me.

Consider it a going-away present from yours truly.

I looked at the clock on the wall. It had already eaten another twenty minutes.

Eight hours and change remained.

At least I’d spend some of them with Shizuki.

Tōdō-sensei called us back to the center of the mat.

“Fighters ready.”I smiled at Ding.This wouldn’t take long.

"Hajime!”

Ding came out strong.

Punch, punch, kick. Reset.

Punch, punch, kick.

I used Hop Gar’s long-range footwork and sweeping blocks to control the distance. Not one combination came close.

Ding was a one-two-three fighter.

Competent, but predictable.

Every block tightened his jaw. Every miss made his attacks sloppier. I let him burn through another half-dozen combinations, then changed tactics.

I dropped into a low Hou Quan stance.

Monkey-style gongfu looked bizarre. It was even stranger to fight.

Ding was completely lost.

He tried an axe kick, and I rolled away. He followed with three heel strikes.

Missed. Missed. And missed.

Finally, frustration took over. He threw a looping punch at my head with enough force to make a joke of the “light contact” rule.

As his fist came around, I dropped onto my right shoulder and tucked my right leg beneath me. Then I drove my left heel into his chest.

His face registered surprise first.

The pain arrived a moment later.

Ding stumbled backward, lost his footing, and landed hard on his shoulders.

“Point, Steele-kun!” Tōdō-sensei called out.

Ding rolled over and slammed his gloved fists down on the mat. Yeah, he was mad.

But Hōjō was furious.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll be with you in a minute.” I called out to him.

Why couldn’t this nonsense have happened yesterday, when I still had time to waste? I needed to move this along.

Dim was back on his feet, and we were back in the center of the mat. I took my Hop Gar stance once again.

“Hajime!”

Punch, punch…As the kick started to rise, I checked it with my shin. 

Then I unleashed Zhu Lian Pao—a chain of rapid punches.

The first two battered aside his guard. The third landed squarely against his chest.

“Yame!” Tōdō-sensei called.

I stopped instantly, my next fist hovering an inch from Ding’s sternum.

“Point and match—Steele-kun!”

Ding sagged with relief.

Tōdō-sensei guided him back toward his corner and then met me at center mat.

“Steele-kun, if I may, what rank do you hold?”

“Tōdō-sensei, the only thing I use a belt for is to hold up my pants and strap on my gun.”

Tōdō-sensei chuckled. “Will you be using the same technique this round?” 

“No, I think this time I’m going to use Tanglang Quan and Baiyuan Tongbeiquan. Mantis and white ape gongfu should move things along.”

"You have made my day, Steele-kun. I believe this will be educational for Hōjō and his friends. Would you like a break?”

“Nah. Send in the next one.”

He nodded and signaled Dong—whose real name was apparently Koshi—to the center of the mat.

“Are you both ready?”

I nodded.

Dong bounced on the balls of his feet. He couldn’t wait to hit me. He was so amped that I knew he would make a mistake.

“Rei”

Dong’s bow left a lot to be desired. It was borderline disrespectful, but whatever. I bowed in return.

Tōdō-sensei raised his hand and brought it quickly down.

“Hajime!”

Kick, kick, punch.Reset.

Kick, kick, punch.

Are you shitting me? Another one-two-three fighter, only in a different order.

Fine. Let’s end this one quickly also.

As the next sequence began, I sidestepped both kicks. The punch followed exactly as expected.

Using a white ape technique, I rooted my stance and used my outside forearm to redirect Dong’s punch down and across his body. My inside fist rose beneath his guard, rotating at the last instant before driving into his midsection. I put just enough force behind it to empty his lungs.

The exhalation of air was enormous and he crumpled.

“Point, Steele-kun!”

Dong just sat there on the mat trying to catch his breath.

“Koshi-kun, can you continue?” Tōdō-sensei asked.

Dong waved him off and shook his head.

“Koshi-kun withdraws. Winner—Steele-kun!”

About damn time.

Speaking of time…I looked at the clock. Still not quite four. If I dropped pretty boy I could still make it out of here with at least eight hours to spare.

How did you compress the rest of your life into eight hours?

The divine joke really wasn’t that fucking funny.

At least this part would be over in a few minutes.

It was shit heads turn.

Tōdō-sensei once again approached me. “Do you require a break before the next demonstration?”

“All good.”

“I fear karate is not making a very good showing. Your words seem to be correct.”

“I never said that. It was Hōjō-sans way of pushing this fight. Or demonstration,” I said, using air quotes. “Besides, I think karate is a fine art. I’ve just been doing this a very long time.”

Tōdō-sensei smiled, tiredly. “So have I.”

If only he knew.

“Well, it’s getting late, and I've got a very pretty girl waiting on me, so what do you say I demonstrate one or two more techniques for you?”

“New styles?”

“How does Bajiquan and Changquan grab you?”

His eyebrows rose. “Eight Extremities Fist and Long Fist. Bājíquán has historical ties to Chinese bodyguards, does it not?”

“Sure does.”

“I must thank you, Steele-kun. This has been a highly educational afternoon. Please visit me soon. I would enjoy speaking with you.”

All I could do was nod.

The clock was ticking, and soon I wouldn’t be there to talk to anyone.

Shizuki motioned me toward my corner.

“Did you notice all the students?”

I had mostly tuned them out, but now I looked. The gym was nearly silent. Most of the students had their phones raised and were recording the matches.

Some were even livestreaming.

Shizuki beamed. “Tomorrow, you’ll be famous, cowboy.”

No, I wouldn’t.

Every trace of my existence would be erased. It would be as though I had never been here.

And Hōjō would go on being an asshole.

This was all so cosmically fucked up.

“You know,” Shizuki said, “Hōjō-san is watching us. I know something that will make him even angrier.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll whisper it.”

At six feet tall, I had to bend down to bring my ear level with her mouth.

Instead, she grabbed my shoulders and kissed my cheek.

Not a peck, either. Her lips lingered before she wrapped her arms around me.

“Good luck, cowboy.”

I didn’t know who was more surprised, Hōjō or me.

I knew which one of us was happier.

Judging by his expression, Hōjō knew it too.

Every phone in the gym caught the whole thing.

I smiled. Time to kick some ass.

Tomorrow, Hōjō wouldn’t remember I’d ever existed.

But today, he’d never forget me.

Hōjō met me in the center of the mat. He leaned close enough that Tōdō-sensei couldn’t hear.

“I hope you enjoyed that kiss, asshole. You’re leaving here in an ambulance.”

“Wow. I can’t believe my love life bothers you this much.” I smiled. “In that case, I probably shouldn’t tell you what Shizuki and I have planned for later.”

The kiss had pissed him off. Implying there would be more afterward pushed him over the edge.

“You’re finished, Texas.”

“Don’t be mad. You’ll find love someday. Maybe Nakamoto-san or Toshi-san can introduce you to someone.” I paused. “You know, after you find a personality.”

Tōdō-sensei stepped between us.

“Is there a problem? Do I need to stop this?”

“No. I’m good.”

“No,” Hōjō spat.

Tōdō-sensei watched him for a moment, then shook his head and stepped back.

“Rei!”

I bowed.

Hōjō remained upright.

“You will bow,” Tōdō-sensei said sharply.

“No, I will not! I won’t show respect to a worthless gaijin.

”Okay. New plan.

I straightened. “It’s all right, Tōdō-sensei. He can’t respect me if he doesn’t respect himself.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the gym.

“Let’s get this over with, Hōjō. Shizuki and I have plans later.”

From my corner, Shizuki covered a smile.

Tōdō-sensei’s expression hardened. I’d spent enough lifetimes reading men to recognize the anger in his eyes. Hōjō hadn’t merely insulted me. He had disgraced his teacher and the traditions of his own art.

Tōdō-sensei raised one arm.

“Hajime!”

Hōjō exploded forward.

Two punches. A spinning back kick. A wheel kick followed by a vicious heel strike.

None of them landed.

Rage and adrenaline drove him. He kept coming, throwing punches and kicks as if possessed. I deflected each one with almost insulting ease.

Hōjō had no intention of showing restraint or humility. He would land something brutal and call it an accident.

All right, asshole. You want to play? Let’s play.

His next combination was fast and built for power rather than strategy. The punches were a distraction from the front snap kick that followed.

I saw it coming.

The kick went high.

I went low.

Dropping to one knee, I spun and swept his supporting leg out from under him. As he fell, I drove a short punch into his thigh.

A deluxe charley horse would arrive momentarily.

Hōjō slammed into the mat.

“Point, Steele-kun!” Tōdō-sensei called.

Hōjō screamed and lurched upright. He clawed at his gloves, tearing open the Velcro straps.

Tōdō-sensei stepped toward him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to kill that bastard!” Hōjō ripped off the second glove.

“The match is over.”

“Fuck you, old man!”

Tōdō-sensei reached for his shoulder.

Hōjō spun without warning.

His heel struck Tōdō-sensei in the side of the head.

The instructor collapsed.

A collective gasp tore through the gym.

Nakamoto and Toshi were beside him in seconds.

“Call an ambulance!” someone shouted.

“Hōjō-san, stop!” Nakamoto pleaded.

“This has gone too far!” Toshi cradled Tōdō-sensei’s head.

“Shut up, you pathetic losers!”

The humor drained out of me.

Hōjō had lost whatever little control he’d possessed.

Time to put him down before he hurt anyone else.

He screamed toward the ceiling, then turned his gaze on Shizuki.

“You had to have the gaijin, didn’t you, bitch? Watch what I do to him now!”

“Hey, shithead.”

He looked at me.“

You pick on girls and sucker-kick your own teacher. Your douchebag meter is turned all the way up.”

“I’m going to kill you!”

“I hear a lot of talk, but you’re still standing there with your dick in your hand.”

Hōjō charged.

His attacks were fast, rage-fueled, and sloppy. I didn’t need to disrupt his rhythm. His fury did it for me.

All I had to do was watch and wait.

The perfect moment was coming.

I needed one straight punch. Fast. Hard. Predictable.

I would meet it with one of my own—his bare fist against my glove, his mediocre technique against a strike honed across lifetimes.

It would break his hand. Maybe his wrist.

Better that than letting him reach Shizuki.

His supposed immovable object was about to meet my unstoppable force.

The immovable object would move.

Hōjō circled, searching for an opening, but I wasn’t going to give him one. Rage could fuel a man for only so long, and I could see his tank running dry.

The punch would come soon.

When it did, I was ready.

Hōjō drove his bare fist straight at my face. My gloved fist shot forward to meet it.

My strike landed at full extension, wrist straight and shoulder behind it. His didn’t. His timing was late, his alignment sloppy, and his shoulder never completed the rotation.

My fist crashed into his like a forge hammer.

Bones snapped.

Hōjō screamed.

That was also when the charley horse finally seized his thigh.

He staggered backward, clutching his useless hand as his injured leg buckled beneath him.

“You cheating bastard!”

“That’s for calling Shizuki a bitch.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” His words collapsed into an almost unintelligible scream.

He charged, swinging his remaining fist wildly.

I’m done.

I pivoted and whipped a wheel kick into the side of his head.

Hōjō hit the mat and didn’t move.

I looked down at him.

“That was for Tōdō-sensei.”

Things moved quickly after that.

An ambulance arrived for Tōdō-sensei, though he had already regained consciousness. The paramedics examined him and determined that he had likely suffered a mild concussion.

They also had to deal with Hōjō. My kick had left him with a concussion of his own, and his hand was already swelling grotesquely. I’d broken more than one bone. Probably several.

I hadn’t meant to go that far.

It wouldn’t matter for long. By tomorrow, he would be fine. When the cycle erased me from the world, it would erase the injuries I had inflicted along with me.

At least, that was what was supposed to happen.

Shizuki and I hid in a corner behind the bleachers, trying to avoid the post-fight circus still unfolding around us. A few students managed to find us and started our way.

One look from Shizuki persuaded them that the opposite side of the gym was suddenly more interesting.

We stood together without saying much, occasionally glancing toward the chaos. Several students were still livestreaming.

Tōdō-sensei tore into Hōjō as the paramedics rolled him toward the exit. Even through the cacophony, every word carried across the gym.

Hōjō had disgraced him. He had struck his own sensei. He was expelled from the dojo and forbidden from ever returning.

Then Tōdō-sensei delivered the final blow.

“From this moment forward, you are dead to me. I will never acknowledge you again.”

He turned and walked away.

One of the paramedics strapped Hōjō’s injured arm against his chest while another secured him to the gurney. His hand had swollen to nearly twice its normal size.

His phone began vibrating on the floor beside him.

A student picked it up and glanced at the screen.“Hōjō-san. It’s your father.”

“Give it to me.”

With one hand useless and the other restrained by the blood-pressure cuff, Hōjō fumbled the phone. The paramedic took it from him.

“I can hold it for you.”

“Put it on speaker.”

The instant the call connected, his father’s voice thundered through the gym.

“Tetsuya!”

Everyone nearby went silent.

Hōjō flinched. “Father, listen—”

“No. You will listen! I have already seen the videos.”

Hōjō’s face went pale.

“You refused to bow. You insulted your opponent. You attacked Tōdō-sensei—the man who taught you, trusted you, and gave you that belt!”

“The gaijin provoked me!”

“Do not blame the American!”

His father’s voice was loud enough to carry across the gym.

“He defeated you. That is all. Your defeat belongs to him. Your disgrace belongs to you.”

Hōjō strained against the gurney straps. “You don’t understand what he did!”

“I understand exactly what you did. You behaved like an animal in front of your school. You shamed your teacher. You shamed our family. And now the entire city can watch you do it!”

“Father—”

“Do not call me that.”

Hōjō froze.

Even the paramedics stopped for a moment.

His father continued, each word colder than the last.

“I could forgive a son who lost. I will not acknowledge one who strikes his own teacher and then blames another man for it.”

“But—”

“You will apologize to Tōdō-sensei, to the school, and to our family. Whether they forgive you is their decision. Until you accept responsibility for what you have done, you are no son of mine.”

The call ended.

For a moment, Hōjō stared at the phone in the paramedic’s hand.

Then his face twisted toward me.

"This is your fault!” he screamed.

Hōjō screamed that it was all my fault as the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance.

Loop much?

The guy had no sense of personal responsibility. Nothing would ever be his fault.

I checked the clock.

Four o’clock.

“Ready to get out of here?” I asked.

“Don’t you need to change?” Shizuki wrinkled her nose. “And perhaps use deodorant?”

“Yeah, I’m probably a little ripe. Give me a minute.”

I slipped into the changing room. The school had no showers, so I cleaned up with sanitizing wipes, changed, and came back out a few minutes later.

If I’d been desperate for a shower, I could have popped over to the Locker Room. But this was my final day, and I wanted every minute I could get with Shizuki.

A cluster of students waited near one of the gym exits.

“They want to get you on video for their LINE VOOM,” Shizuki said.

“Then let’s use another exit.”

I took her hand, and we slipped through the door beside the coach’s office. We ran until the campus disappeared behind us, then slowed to a walk.

Neither of us spoke.

Our hands remained locked together, swinging between us.

“No one’s ever stood up for me like that,” she finally said.

“So you were checking me out?”

She stopped and tugged on my arm, turning me to face her.

“Seriously. Thank you.”

“Hōjō’s an asshole who’s been pushing this since I arrived. It was time somebody knocked him down a peg—or seven.” I shrugged. “Besides, nobody gets to treat you like that.”

She smiled. “Oh? And what makes me so special?”

Oh, shit.

She had trapped me.

Heat crept into my face. “You just are, okay?”

Her smile widened.

“So you were checking me out?”

Damn it. She’d thrown my own words back at me.

I had fewer than eight hours left, and somehow she had me blushing like a first-time high school kid.

Why was that?

Maybe my final few hours really could be fun. Whatever happened, I would make the most of them with Shizuki.

But first, it was time to turn the tables.

“Yeah, okay. I’ve been checking you out since the first time we met.”Ha. Take that.

Her eyes widened.

“Eh?”

“I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful girl in school. You’re amazing, and you’re a wonderful person. Any man you chose would be lucky to have you.” I turned and started down the street, still holding her hand. “Now, are we getting boba or not?”