VIII

“How are you doing, Akari?” Sachi asked, folding me in a hug as I opened the door for her. I hugged her back gratefully, my heart speeding up curiously as she folded me in her arms. She was my rock in an unfamiliar and constantly shifting sea, a safe port from the tempest blowing through the hole in my mind where my memories of the past year once lived. Holding her close I felt calm and safe but also strangely anxious in an oddly exciting way.

“I’m good, Sacchan,” I lied. She was at least 15 cm taller than I was so I contented myself with laying my forehead against her shoulder and let the stress wash away.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Sachi finally said, holding me at arm’s length and staring at me. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t. I talked to Hiroto yesterday and he agreed to postpone the tour. I really still think that would be for the best, you know.”

“I can do it!” I exclaimed, though after watching the shows we’d done more recently I wasn’t feeling overly confidant of it anymore. The choreography had become very complicated over the past few months, much more than I had imagined. I’d hoped that muscle memory would save me and, initially, at least, I’d been mostly right, but the longer the dance had gone on while I was practicing last night the more strained I’d become until about a minute and a half into the song I’d had to rush to the bathroom to throw up. This was definitely going to be more challenging than I’d thought. “At least, I have to try.”

“Same old Akari,” Sachi replied, shaking her head in amazement. “Trying four times too hard for reasons only you understand. Ok, let’s get going, then.” I smiled and grabbed the small duffel bag I’d already packed, and followed Sachi as she went through the door, closing it behind me.

I had tried to learn how to drive but I simply didn’t see the need, but I always admired Sachi’s skill. Truth be told, though, she usually scared me when she drove. Her normal assertiveness seemed to take on a whole new life of its own when she got behind the wheel of a car and she had an almost crazed light in her eyes sometimes that worried me.

I did my best to keep the conversation as light as I could as Sachi’s Mercedes slipped through traffic on its way through Ota and into Kawasaki. My legs were still shaking from last night and I was feeling nauseous again. Sachi could spot a lie from a mile away and I was a rotten liar anyway so, I reasoned, if I kept the conversation breezy she wouldn’t ask questions I wouldn’t have good answers to. It felt, for all intents and purposes, that I was interviewing for a job. Which, I suppose, I was.

“It went poorly last night, didn’t it?” Sachi asked guiding the car onto the K6 and angling into the middle lane.

“Pfft!” I replied, waving my hand easily as if to dismiss the question.

“Oh, so it went well, then?” Sachi glanced over at my face and smiled.

“Your dimples are sooo cute!” I enthused with a grin.

“You’re avoiding the question, Akari,” Sachi replied, eyes returning to the road as the Tokyo Bay Aqua Line interchange loomed in the distance. I gulped. I hated that bridge monstrosity. I wasn’t fond of heights, especially bridges, but I was absolutely terrified of enclosed spaces. Two of my least favorite things wrapped into one horrible, 24 km long ribbon of steel and concrete waited ahead of me and I found myself tensing unconsciously.

“It could have gone better, I guess,” I replied sullenly, puffing my cheeks out in disapproval.

“Don’t try to be cute with me, youngster,” Sachi returned easily. Even though she was only three years older than I was she exuded an aura of calm dignity and composure I doubted I could ever match. “Besides, you’re cute and you know it. There’s no need to flaunt it.” She slowed down slightly as she went through the ETC lane before speeding up and onto the open expanse of the bridge over Tokyo Bay. I felt my breath catch in my throat and I whimpered slightly, staring down at my feet.

“Speaking of cute,” I choked in a small voice, my heart fluttering in fear. “Did I have cosmetic surgery, do you think?”

“Huh?” Sachi asked, glancing at me worriedly as I clutched my duffel bag in my fingers with a death grip.

“It’s just that I was looking at my face last night and it seemed different,” I replied. “It’s like my lips seem fuller, I guess. I don’t know. I just thought maybe I’d had cosmetic surgery or something.”

“No, Akari, you didn’t have plastic surgery,” Sachi replied, patting my knee comfortingly. “You just fully grew into your own beauty.” I blushed fiercely and smiled.

“Oh!” I exclaimed brightly. “I have a butt!”

“Eh?” Sachi cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

“I always had, like, no butt but I’ve got one, now!” I enthused. “I looked at it in the mirror, last night! It used to always be just a fatter part of my upper thigh but it actually curves out, now! I have a butt, Sacchan!”

“Yes,” Sachi giggled, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound as well as she was able. “You have a good butt. I’ve seen and marveled at it many times.”

“Don’t tease me, Sacchan,” I pouted. “This is a big deal for me, you know.”

“Who says I’m teasing?” Sachi flashed her dimples at me in a lascivious grin I’d never seen her make which caused my blush to deepen to a bright red. “We’re getting ready to go in the tunnel, hold my hand, Akari.” I nodded and grabbed onto Sachi’s warm hand tightly with both of my hands as I closed my eyes tight. “You need to never drive with Mari across the bridge. Seriously. You wouldn’t survive the trip.”