Chapter 38:

Couple (Part 1) / 二人、その1

Transgression

December twenty-fourth. A special day for special people. A time of celebration. A cold—at least here in the northern hemisphere—yet still packed night. Cities sporting ostentatious supplementary illuminations. Meals that extend until dawn, to the chagrin of our own stomachs. And Fukuoka was no exception.

After leaving the comfort and warmness of home, I was appreciating the urban scenery with my girlfriend.

“I think we escaped their clutches for now,” I giggled.

“I know, right? Knowing those two, I bet they were planning on making us put on those revealing Santa costumes.”

She turned to me, “So, any ideas for dinner?”

“I… may have forgotten we were eating out.”

“And I already suspected that’d happen, so I reserved a place for us.”

“How close are we?”

“Close enough to spot the abnormally large line at the entrance.”

When we arrived at the restaurant, I commented on its refined air inside and flamboyant decoration.

“Oh, a fancy one.”

“That’s why I insisted on bringing formal wear, dummy.”

I gazed at her outfit from bottom to top, now with better lighting. An elegant black suit with a dark grey shirt, accompanied by an equally black waistcoat and a red tie—fitting with my scarlet evening gown (but not with my coat). Crimson low heels and a singular ponytail completed her look.

“‘All according to plan’, huh?”

A waiter politely approached us.

“Excuse me, Misses. Do you, perchance, have a table reserved?”

“Table for two scheduled for 9 PM, in the name of Akira Natsuko.”

The man checked the list in his hand. Acknowledging the reservation, he escorted us to our designated location. Luckily for us, we were positioned next to the wall—a transparent window of large proportions where we could observe the city from above.

The waitperson stopped walking and signaled our arrival.

“Please, take a seat. I’ll return shortly.”

I took off my coat, placed it on the chairback, and sat down.

“I feel like baroque French nobility,” I remarked, looking around.

“Mhm.”

Not having had an opportunity to beforehand, I verbalized something that piqued my curiosity since we left home.

“What’s up with the suit?”

“Ah, I was surprised you hadn’t said anything about it yet. I've never worn one in my life, hence I wanted to give it a try and see how I looked in it.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Yeah. At least I have plenty of pockets at my disposal.”

“Y-Yes…,” I stared down at my attire.

She did the same.

“I still think you should’ve taken my advice and worn the halter dress I chose.”

“At this time of year when it’s freezing outside? My back would’ve been completely exposed.”

“But, it’d be prettier,” she responded with a natural voice.

“Unfortunately, the weather doesn’t care about beauty.”

“I do though. Besides, it’s not like the difference between this one and the other is that considerable. You would’ve also had to bring a coat either way.”

“Am I not beautiful enough tonight?”, I wondered, slightly worried.

“On the contrary, you’re stunning! Even more so than with a wedding dress, in my humble opinion.”

“Thanks,” I blushed a bit, “Say, do the earrings look good on me?”

“Of course they do. After all, I picked them myself,” she smiled.

I grabbed the menu.

“We should probably quit the small talk and start picking so we can make our order, in case the food takes a while.”

“Yes, yes,” she picked up hers.

We read through the menu.

“I’m leaning towards the Carbonara. And you?”

“Frankly, I’m torn. Meatballs or Italian food?”

“I suggest giving the meatballs a try,” she advised.

“Is that Chef Akira’s suggestion?”

“Indeed. We’re in a European cuisine restaurant, therefore we shouldn’t limit ourselves to a single country’s cuisine.”

“Alright, then it can’t be helped. Meatballs it is.”

“Want to risk it and order an alcoholic drink?”

“Sure. What were you thinking of?”

“Well, wine and beer are too commonplace. I have my eyes set on this one here instead,” she pointed to it, “The name stood out.”

“Oh, this one?”

“Exactly.”

“If I'm not mistaken, ‘Sangre’ means ‘blood’ in Spanish. Are you feeling extra bold tonight?”

“Perhaps I am. In any case, I'm sure we can both handle it. I'm eighteen and you'll soon be too. Plus, it's listed as moderately alcoholic.”

“Alright, then go for it.”

“I would've gone ahead with it anyway.”

“So you are feeling extra bold.”

A couple of seconds later, the same waiter who welcomed us addressed our table.

“Hello, misses. My apologies for the delay. In the meantime, have you decided on what you’ll be having?”

“Spaghetti a la Carbonara.”

“Swedish Meatballs for me.”

“And what drinks will the ladies be having?”

“An ‘Iberian Sangria’ for two,” Natsuko replied.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you very much.”

He noted it all.

“Understood. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

And so our wait began.

“Have you decided which university you’ll be aiming for?”

“Naturally. During the time you were hospitalized, we had to make a definitive decision and deliver our application form. I chose Kyoto University as my first option and Fukuoka University as my second.”

“Ah, that's a good first option. If all goes well, you'll have them at your side when I'm gone…,” I vaguely gazed at the wide glass panel.

“Cut it out,” she pinched my cheek, “Today's supposed to be a day to celebrate, so don't bring those things up.”

“Shorry.”

She let go of it.

“Smile,” she demanded with a soft voice, “You're on a date with your wonderful girlfriend on Christmas night. Show me how happy you are.”

“Unimaginably happy and blessed to be by your side.”

“Prove it. As an example… compliment my look.”

“Are you that desperate?”

“Yes," she stated with an entitled attitude, effortlessly switching to a normal one, “And… well, we've got to do something while we're waiting.”

“I'll go with the latter,” I sketched a slight grin.

Following a few fleeting seconds of silence, she reminded me of what I was tasked with earlier.

“You still haven't complimented me,” she reaffirmed with a straight face.

“My sincerest apologies, Akira. I was so mesmerized by your appearance, I forgot it.”

“If you're joking, I'll pinch both cheeks this time.”

“It's the truth. You really do look incredible in a suit.”

I wasn’t lying.

“Then you’re safe. For now.”

“I’m thankful.”

Warfare has been successfully avoided.

“However, in case the other cheek’s feeling lonely, I can always fix that.”

“You really developed a liking to them, didn’t you.”

After roughly thirty minutes, a waitress walked to our table, carrying our main dishes, and gracefully served them to each of us.

“Misses, here are the dishes you ordered. Bon Appétit. If either of the misses needs anything else, simply raise your hand.”

Before leaving, we ordered a dessert each.

The otherwise dark wintry sky was just as alight by the omnipresent illumination and traffic as when we stepped outside two hours ago. We aimlessly ambled around the city, gradually approaching the former’s main attraction, which seemingly had fewer observing eyes than we imagined.

“This chilly wind I feel in my legs reminds me of the morning I returned to school.”

“Is that a good thing?”, she wondered.

“Yes. It’s uncomfortable, yet I don’t really mind it. It sounds silly, no?”

“Not really. I sometimes use dresses or long skirts in Winter without anything beneath them. The freedom of movement makes me forget it’s freezing down there,” she giggled, “therefore, we can be silly together.”

I glanced at her suit again.

“That’s unfair. How can you say that when you’re strolling down the streets in trousers and I’m in an evening dress?”

“You have a point. Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes,” I retorted confidently, “I require further proof. You’ll have to prove it with your actions in the coming days.”

“Alright.”

“But don’t worry, you won’t be alone in it. I’ll do it as well.”

“Can I pick your outfits then?”

“You always love to do that, don’t you?”, I laughed.

“I do it for you and me. Well, that and the fact I can’t bear to see your excessively faulty fashion sense on full display.”

“Ouch. That hurt. Even though it’s true, it still hurt.”

We stopped a few hundred of meters away from the city’s gigantic Christmas tree, on a spot where one could observe its full splendor.

Natsuko let go of my hand and slowly turned around to face me. Seeing how neither of us wanted to take the initiative, she took the first step and grabbed a small cubic box from her wallet.

“Yuki,” she called my attention lovingly.

“Yes…?”, I hesitantly asked.

“Here. Merry Christmas,” she said, handing it to me.

I opened it only to find what I thought would never happen.

“A ring???”

“If you don't want it, I'll take it back.”

“No, I wholeheartedly accept it. Thanks, Akira.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I… put it on?”

“Yeah.”

I carefully removed it from the box and placed it on my middle finger.

“This kind of feels surreal.”