I Went on a Date With God, I Think

The first thing I noticed was the lack of scissors in her hair. Was it shorter, too?

"Hey, what're you up to?"

The girl named Haruko Arakawa sat cross-legged by the river, dragging her hand through the grass. As soon as she looked up at me, I knew I'd made a mistake. The look she gave was utterly different from the one at school. She reminded me of a bird of prey before it swooped down and snatched up its next meal.

She sprung to her feet. "YOU! Come with me!"

Taking off before I could ask any questions, she forced me into a speed walk. She seemed to move at that pace by default, arms swaying back and forth. I had to switch between a light jog and a frantic scuttle to keep up.

"Hm? I'm just supposed to follow you?" I asked.

No answer.

"Hello?"

She stopped and spun on the spot like a teacup. "What do you mean?"

I was barely able to avoid running into her. "Huh?"

What do I mean? What do you mean what do I mean? It's as if she did this every other day and the normal reaction was to blindly follow along. I don't know who usually walks up to you but I sure hope you're not leading random salary men off like this.

She stared right at me, gave a prompt "hmph" and darted off again.

I wasn't sure what it meant, but despite my better judgment, I continued in her wake. I caught the quickest glance over her shoulder, and I swear I saw that same devious grin of hers from earlier in the day.

"So you're not telling me where we're going?"

"Ten points!" she said.

Oh, I get points?

"Then, do you wash your own clothes?" I asked.

"That's a dumb question."

No points?

"Watch your step," she said, hopping over a small drainage ditch. "My parents don't wash them if that's what you're asking."

Is that what I was asking? "What do they do?"

She kept trudging along, but her reply was delayed for a while before she answered: "They give me money."

"They don't mind?"

"Well it was their idea, I'd hope they didn't mind."

"Their idea? You didn't have to ask for an allowance?" I asked.

"Not that." She looked at me. "Having a kid."

"Huh?"

Before she had the chance to explain, she pointed towards the sign of a Sayzoriyo. "We're here."

"Do you like Italian or something?"

"No, they have free refills." She stepped in through the front door, neglecting to hold it open for me.

Inside, Haruko sat comfortably at one of those tiny booths that claims to fit two people. I'd have preferred a larger one, and despite being the only two customers, I thought it best not to complain. Haruko ordered her refillable drink and I got an appetizer. Better to play it safe than get left with an unfinished meal, not that my stomach would be able to handle that anyway.

The girl sat across from me silently, leaving me to suffer through a couple of awkward attempts to start a conversation or get information out of her. The more I talked, the more I got the impression she was testing me. No… not testing. Analyzing. Carefully paying attention to every one of my feeble attempts at communication. She remained stone-faced until the waiter delivered her drink.

"Nothing I'm about to say will ever be repeated out of your mouth, do you understand?"

What an opener. "So long as you explain what's going on."

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and leaned in across the table, that same gaze pierced my soul. I could feel her breath pushing against my face. It hadn't occurred to me until precisely that moment how poorly this situation could turn. In that split second, before she uttered a word, my mind raced through a thousand different doomsday scenarios.

What would I do if she told me she'd killed someone and needed help hiding the body? What if she uncovered a nasty secret about one of our teachers and wanted me to expose it to the class? She could've claimed love at first sight and declared her undying passion for me, what then? What if she dug up my junior high short film and tried to blackmail me into being her butler with it? Hmm, that one sounds a lot like a plot straight out of a Shoujo Manga.

Either way, none of that happened. Instead, looming over top of me, in total sincerity, she only uttered three words.

"I am God," she proclaimed.

Before I had the chance to reply, I noticed a man looking over the both of us, aghast. He held a plate of food.

"Uhm… Here's your potato wedges." It was the waiter who'd arrived with my appetizer.

Somehow, Haruko had kept a straight face and continued her stare, even as I apologized, accepted my food, and let the poor waiter scurry off. Lucky him. God sat back down in her chair and crossed her legs, waiting for my reply. At the very least, her patience was impressive enough to be classified as divine.

What was I supposed to answer? Playing it off as a joke was well out of the question. Taking her seriously didn't seem too wise either. I could always ignore her and try to change the subject. That might bear some fruit? The longer I waited, the more answering seemed like an altogether poor idea. So, what if I didn't?

I reached for my food in an attempt to prolong my deliberation process, instead, it shortened to nonexistence. The problem sitting in front of me had grabbed my plate and pulled it away from me. My shocked expression must have inspired her reply.

"So?" Her fingers fluttered over my potato wedges.

"Yes?"

She retreated from the plate as I answered. Is she trying to condition me? I'll have you know I'm not a dog.

"Do you believe me?" she asked.

I sighed, eyes lingering on my plate of food. You know what? I wasn't hungry to begin with. "Not really…"

"I can prove it."

My shock knew no bounds.

"But I can't show you now," she said. "Later, at school."

I wasn't so sure any of this was worth the mental effort, but once again, I felt a mysterious desire to discover more. Like a moth fluttering dangerously close to a flame, I worked desperately against the heat to set myself ablaze.

I rested my arms on the table. "If I were to consider you a god—"

"Just God," she interrupted.

"Uhm, yeah. What would that mean for me?"

She looked at me as if my question were completely nonsensical.

"Am I expected to pray five times a day? Do I need to recite any scriptures? Will you be punishing me for my sins?"

She gave off an obvious grin and nodded along. "Oh! I like those ideas."

Wonderful.

And with that, she stood up, cheery as could be, never having bothered to refill her drink, and ready to leave. Realizing I wouldn't be eating most of my meal, I scarfed down a few wedges and stood to follow.

"Oh and the drink was two hundred yen," I said.

"Doesn't the guy always pay on a first date?" She must have sensed my distress, though not for the right reason because she added: "Don't worry, I'll cover it next time," then skipped out of the restaurant.

Left there alone, I paid for her drink, followed outside, and found she had already made her way well down the street. I went home that night and couldn't help but wonder if I'd just been on a date with God. Well, even if she were God, that definitely wouldn't count as a date… Right?