Archive of Our Own

I.

It was normal for Daichi to post on her Instagram story. So posting during her week-long trip to Tokyo should have been normal, too. A given.

But she angsted over what picture to choose and what stickers to put on it. Should she use text, or let it speak for itself? What would be cooler? What would be most nonchalant?

She recognized that she was being ridiculous. Suga barely even went on Instagram. And even if she saw Daichi was in Tokyo, it’s not like she’d ask to hang out. Suga probably had no desire to see her. Surely she was busy with her own college life.

Also, Daichi and her eleven fellow students were there for a college class. They’d all had to apply to take the class (which was competitive, because who wouldn’t want a free trip to Japan), and their professor was very clear that they were there for academics and culture, not partying. They had a full schedule and a strict nine pm curfew. So Daichi’s quiet thoughts of a reunion with Suga were nothing more than daydreams. 

Until Suga replied to one of Daichi’s stories:

hey! i can’t believe you’re here

my friend’s having a party tonight, want to come?

Daichi did. Which brought her (and her friend from class, Angela) to the doorstep of a slightly shoddy apartment building, well past curfew.

“Just ring it,” Angela said. She reached past Daichi to press the doorbell. “Don’t be nervous.”

Easy for Angela to say. Daichi had spent all afternoon deciding what to wear, then took a very comprehensive shower, then spent an hour getting ready (and another hour toning down her look so she didn’t appear to be trying too hard). She looked good. Black jeans, a basic black going-out top she’d bought that afternoon that clung to her nicely. Daichi could admit that she was considered pretty in high school, but twenty-one year old Daichi put seventeen year old Daichi to shame. Not that Suga would be surprised by this; Daichi’s life was well-documented on social media. But she still hoped to impress, to make Suga want her. It was so pathetic, and probably nothing would come of it, and she and Suga would be friendly and Daichi would feel like an idiot.

The door swung open and the party sucked them inward. Plenty of boys wanted to bring them drinks, and Angela wasted no time in wandering off with the tallest, cutest one. Daichi tried not to sweat and focused on chatting with the people around her instead of desperately scanning the packed room--

A hand on her shoulder. “Daichi?”

Daichi turned around. She opened her mouth, presumably to say something normal like ‘Suga!’ or ‘it’s good to see you.’ 

“Uhh.”

“It is you!” Suga threw her arms around Daichi. By the time Daichi had registered that they were hugging, Suga was pulling away. “Wow, it’s so good to see you! I can’t believe you came! Why are you here? Like here in Tokyo? Wait, I want to introduce you to everyone—“

Thankfully, Suga’s excitement covered for Daichi’s inability to speak.

When they’d first met, Suga looked like a gay kid. Not that Daichi had the awareness to realize it at the time. 

So Daichi’s brain wasn’t like ‘wow, Suga looks so gay now.’ But she was more freely herself. She was embodying her queerness. It wasn’t an awkward part of her anymore. Suga was a confident, happy, beautiful gay person. And Daichi wasn’t prepared for how hot that was. She’d always been attracted to Suga, obviously, but Suga at twenty-one was…wow.

She wasn’t even wearing anything special! A loose t shirt and some baggy jeans. And cartilage piercings. And a fucking septum ring. Oh god, Suga was so pretty. How was Daichi going to survive this party without making a complete fool of herself?

She decided to just lean into it. After all, one of the things she’d always loved about their short relationship was their ability to be honest with each other. And it’s not like they were going to see each other again. So—

Daichi stopped walking. Suga, who had Daichi by the wrist and was pulling her through the crowd, turned around. 

She leaned close to Suga’s ear. “Dude. You look really good and it’s making me nervous.”

Suga got flustered for a second. Then she smiled and looked Daichi up and down. “You’ve got some nerve saying that. When you show up looking like this .” She let her eyes linger on Daichi’s body. Then tightened her grip on Daichi’s wrist. “C’mon.”

Daichi was glad it was dark, because her ears were on fire.

The next almost-two hours were a performance. A one-woman show, written, directed, produced by, and starring Daichi. Suga’s friends loved it. She told them about university in the US, why she was in Tokyo and what she thought of the city, what LA was like. They complimented her Japanese, excitedly saying it ‘was really good for a foreigner,’ which only stung a little. A lot of them wanted to speak English to her to show off, and she happily praised them. And, of course, Daichi did what she did best: made other people feel important. She asked questions, not enough to be rude, but enough to draw others out of their shells. 

Daichi enjoyed parties as much as any extravert. Under normal circumstances, she’d be relaxed and having fun. But tonight her friendly, charming exterior was carefully calibrated and executed. She was navigating an unfamiliar social scene with grace and speaking eloquently in her second language. And she was constantly looking-not-looking at Suga without gay panicking. Then flirting with her in a way that could just barely be platonic. Then pretending to be absorbed in the party and ignoring Suga again. 

A one-woman show, performed to perfection, for an audience of one. And Daichi wanted it to be over desperately. Suga’s casual touches were getting more frequent. At last the two of them meandered away from the group to talk by themselves.

In the morning, Daichi would barely remember the conversation. Being close to Suga was heady. So many small, electrifying touches: Suga’s hands casually, casually on Dachi’s arm, shoulder, waist, hair, hip. 

Time for a little more honesty. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Suga smiled.

“It’s hard to focus with you so close to me like this.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I mean. Your lips are right there.”

“Ugh, Daichi.” Suga rolled her eyes. “The nerve of you.”

“Mm.”

Suga’s voice got low. “You’re making me want you so much it’s indecent.”

“Ah. I can leave if that’s easier.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Suga said. Their faces were very, very close. “You know what, come with me.”

Daichi would have followed her anywhere. Again through the crowd of people, down a hallway, into someone’s room. And then, the most beautiful sound in the world: the little click of Suga locking the door behind them.

II.

The woman who looked like Daichi met Suga’s eyes. She slowed her purposeful pace. “...Suga?”

“Daichi.” 

They stared at each other for a moment before Suga got up from her seat. Daichi let go of her carefully balanced luggage, which was good, because Suga got closer and asked can I hug you , and Daichi responded by smiling and wrapping strong arms around her. Suga hugged back, tighter than she should have, probably. And for longer than was normal for two old friends running into each other, probably. 

Daichi didn’t seem to mind, just held her back. She smelled so good. Suga was surely imagining it, but she smelled a little familiar. The same from when they were younger, underneath new deodorant and soap and shampoo.

And she looked great. Suga pulled back and held her at arms length so she could look again. “You look great.” It wasn’t even flirtatious, just honest. She looked like an adult with her life together.

“Oh my god, I just got off the plane. I’m sure I look gross. And smell bad.”

“You don’t,” Suga blurted out. Which was weirdly intrusive, but Daichi just smiled.

“It’s so good to see you.” Daichi was doing the same thing, taking Suga in. Suga really hoped she didn’t look too disheveled. “Wow. What are you doing here?”

“It was my dad’s birthday. He said what he wanted as his present was for me to visit. And he paid for the plane ticket, so.” Daichi raised her eyebrows. “I’m working on being more forgiving.”

“And you’re going back to Tokyo now?” Daichi asked, craning her head to see the sign at the gate.

“Yeah. What about you? What brings you to LAX?”

“Visiting too, actually. It’s Kosuke’s middle school promotion.” 

“No it’s not. There’s no way he’s--what, thirteen?”

“Fourteen,” Daichi sighed ruefully. “I know. Wait--he is fourteen, right? If I’m twenty-five, and he’s had his birthday already...yes. Yes, he is. Just had to check there.”

“I don’t blame you. I barely know how old I am.” Daichi snorted. “Hey...do you want to sit for a second? I know you must be tired from the flight and you want to get home--”

“No, no. It’s not a long flight at all, compared to yours. I don’t mind delaying a little.” She pulled her stuff over to the seats and plopped down gracefully. “Am I going to make you miss your flight?”

“I’m pretty sure I still have--” Suga checked the time on her phone. “Yeah, an hour before I board. So we should be fine.”

“Okay!” They looked at each other for an awkward beat and both laughed. “It really is so good to see you.”

“You too.” Suga smiled at Daichi. “You’ve been up to a lot. I check Instagram.”

“And yet, you never post on it.” 

“I do so.”

“Like, every six months.”

“Are you stalking my page?”

“No! I just never see anything from you. Anyway. Yeah, I moved to DC. Started working at a think tank.”

“Fancy.”

“Not really. It mostly focuses on how to make the public more engaged with the government. So people are better informed about issues, and what politicians are actually voting on and accomplishing.”

“That’s kind of cool.”

“Eh. I work with a lot of obnoxious, liberal white people who think every problem would be solved if they could just elect more Democrats. But that was pretty common in college too. And the think tank is well funded, which is nice. We’re in a fancy modern building with a lot of glass. And there’s a lot of free food and free t-shirts. So. It’s not my dream job, but life could be a lot worse.”

“That sounds like it’s a good place to be, for starting out. And it looks like other areas of life are developing well too. For you. Judging by some of your latest content.”

“Oh.” Daichi blushed. “Um. Yeah, my girlfriend and I just had our one year anniversary. So that’s exciting.”

“I’m really happy for you,” Suga said honestly. “You’re adorable together.”

“Thanks. Yeah, she’s amazing. I’m really lucky. But I want to hear about you.”

“Nothing as interesting. I teach in an elementary school.” Daichi made a cute little ‘wooo!’ sound and Suga smiled. “It’s Tokyo, but like, a ways out. Almost the suburbs. Sorry, this is just so weird running into you like this, I can’t get over it.”

“Seriously,” Daichi agreed. There was an awkward beat. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

“No, I’m definitely done with relationships for a while. They’re sort of draining. Have you noticed that women have a lot of emotional needs?”

Daichi laughed. Her eyes were fond. “You know what, I have noticed that.”

“I’m not saying dating men would be preferable, but there would definitely be less to unpack.”

“You’re funny.”

Suga smiled. You’re beautiful. Daichi’s skin was moisturized and glowy. Her hair looked healthy as fuck. Honestly, Suga wouldn’t have been surprised if she did CrossFit. She was wearing a simple white t shirt and blue jeans, but she looked like a Lululemon girl. She probably had the matching workout sets. Suga hoped Daichi’s girlfriend appreciated her.

Daichi looked away, embarrassed. “You’re staring.”

“Sorry. I was just thinking you look good.”

“Oh.” Daichi tried not to smile. It was cute. “Hey, if I say something really weird, will you judge me?”

“Probably.”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say!”

“How about, I might judge you but I won’t think any less of you.”

“Those are the same thing. You know what, never mind.”

“You can’t just leave me in suspense like this, though. What were you going to say?” Daichi hesitated, so Suga kept talking. “We literally live on different continents. This is actually probably the best time to say something weird. No consequences.” You can’t mess up our relationship, because we don’t have one.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Suga laughed. “Uh. I mean, yeah.” Daichi was too close to her face to lie to. Too beautiful to lie to.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You have a girlfriend.”

“Just one kiss. The kind that’s acceptable to do in public. So small. It doesn’t count. It won’t count.”

“...Okay.”

Suga wasn’t lonely. She had dates and flings, hookups and fuckbuddies. But it was different, with someone who used to love her and know her so well. A coming-home feeling. When Suga was eighteen, she’d accepted that she would be able to move on someday. Find her true love and be happy. But even so, a tiny part of her would always be in love with Daichi. No matter how happy and committed Suga was. 

So Daichi’s soft lips made it easy for her heart to spiral out of control. This is what I need, I can’t be without this. What if she feels the same way? What if she wants me too? What if we could be like this always? It’s been enough waiting, Daichi, dump the stupid girlfriend and come home to me. 

They pulled apart. Daichi’s eyes were dark, intense, hungry. “Would it be possible to be alone with you right now?”

“Daichi.”

“Please don’t look so disappointed in me.”

“What about your girlfriend?”

“This is just...a freak coincidence, that we met here. It’s not our real lives. It doesn’t count. She doesn’t need to know. And it’s you. I’m not doing this because I think you’re prettier than her or because I don’t love her. It’s you, and if I have a chance to be close to you like this, before we go back to our separate lives, it’s an incredible gift and I don’t want to waste it. For old times’ sake, right?”

A moment passed. Daichi shrank a little. “I’m sorry for being so pushy. I really shouldn’t have assumed that you felt--I’m sorry, Suga. I ruined this. Really, just getting to see you in person is--I’m just happy to see you at all. I’m sorry for overstepping--”

“Daichi. Stop talking.” Suga stood and picked up her things. “I’m pretty sure I passed one of those one-person bathrooms farther down that way.” Daichi opened her mouth, concerned; Suga cut her off before she could speak. “Yes, I’m sure. No, I don’t feel pressured. I want this.” She looked at Daichi meaningfully.

Maybe it made Suga a bad person, to take advantage of an immoral opportunity. And to not question it too hard. And to do it even though she knew the other person might regret it. With her friends, she was often the voice of reason, the moral compass. But Daichi was an adult who could make her own decisions, and right now, her decision was this. She was asking Suga for this, and Suga wanted this, and she didn’t want to be the better person, and she didn’t want to be Daichi’s moral compass, she wanted to kiss her. And touch her. And fuck, they were never going to see each other again, right? So might as well make it good. Might as well make it good. And if Daichi hated her for it afterwards--it wouldn’t matter, right? They would never see each other again.

Daichi groaned and pressed her forehead on Suga’s soft inner thigh. “Oh my god, I’m so turned on I’m gonna die.”

Suga, leaning back against the sink with her pants around her ankles, ran her fingers over Daichi’s scalp. “Mm, no dying. Just keep doing--ah, yeah, like that….”

Daichi kissed Suga’s clit. “Miss your flight.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Suga tried to catch her breath. “If you don’t put a finger in me right now--”

Afterward, as Suga stood alone in boarding line, she reviewed the bullet points. 

*Suga came.

*Suga kissed Daichi’s wet, sloppy mouth. It tasted like Suga.

*Suga fingerfucked Daichi while Daichi touched herself.

*Daichi came.

*They said goodbye.

It was difficult to believe that she, Suga, had been the one living those moments.

She hadn’t been able to stop herself from saying something she shouldn’t.

“Good to know you’re even better than I remember.”

Daichi’d laughed. Said, “I’m happy for your future partner. Or partners.” 

“We should probably say goodbye here.”

“Good luck with everything. Not that you need it.”

“I’m really glad we ran into each other.”

“It was really good to see you.”

“You too.”

“I should let you go.”

“Alright.” They kissed chastely.

“Stay out of trouble.”

Suga laughed.

Suga showed her ticket and passport to the gate agent, and thought about Daichi alone in the bathroom, washing her face off so no one would know what they’d done.

Suga sat in her assigned seat. Her tears overflowed then, like they’d been politely waiting for permission. 

III.

Years later, Daichi remembered the airport hookup as one of the happiest, saddest, hottest times of her life. She cringed at how forward she’d been with Suga and double cringed at them having sex and triple cringed at them doing it in an airport bathroom. As she neared thirty, she looked back and chalked it up to her being young and wild. She’d even make light of it when everyone else was sharing crazy ex stories. A funny memory.

It had been a long day of panels, presentations, and networking. As a reward, Daichi strolled into a stationary store. She wanted to get her intern some cute Japanese pens or something as a little gift; the younger woman hadn’t been invited to the conference. She looked down at her phone as she browsed, texting another office friend for her opinion--

SMACK. Plop. Fsssss.

She’d bumped into something solid. Once Daichi had a moment to register what had happened, her heart sank when she realized the other person had dropped a box of notecards, and now all of them--all one hundred of them?--were scattered out on the ground.

“Shit,” the other person muttered, and began to pick them up.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” Daichi dropped to her knees as well to help.

The other person didn’t acknowledge her. They seemed pissed. Daichi handed her stack over when she couldn’t find any more on the ground. “Sorry again.”

“I’m sorry too. I was walking too quickly.” The other person took the cards and looked up to meet Daichi’s eyes.

Daichi had the words prepared to explain why she’d been staring: ‘I’m sorry, you looked like an old friend for a moment.’ But she kept searching and searching the other person’s face, looking for something that would confirm that this was not Suga--but everything about her looked so much like Suga--

“Daichi?”

Dachi’s mouth dropped. “Suga?”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Work trip.”

“For how long?”

“Last Saturday until this Saturday.”

“As in tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

They both kept staring. “I can’t believe this. The odds are--” Suga stopped. “Wait. Are you stalking me?”

Daichi laughed. “I promise I’m not. It didn’t even cross my mind that I might run into you here.”

“Well, normally you wouldn’t have. I’m never downtown. Just doing a favor for a friend, and stopped here on my way back.”

They kept staring. 

“Here, pinch me.” Daichi stuck out her hand. “Ow!”

“You’ve always been such a baby.” Suga stuck out her own hand for a pinch back. “Well. This seems to be real.”

“Is it really you ?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. It’s very much me. You can even ask me a question only I would know, if you want.”

“Uh. What was the mascot of the high school we went to?”

“God, I don’t know. I just remember it was stupid. Like not even an animate object.”

“Yep. The Dunes.”

“Okay...what was the worst thing I got in trouble for? At your school.”

“Wow, let’s see. Getting in trouble was like, your life’s calling. They almost expelled you. Uh, skipping too much class? Disrespecting a teacher?”

“Nope, worse. It was something that caused some drama.”

“Drama...not smoking outside of school, that’s too tame. You never did end up setting fire to the building...OH. That kid! What’s-his-name! You know what I mean. You broke his nose!”

“Yep.”

“Geez! Suga!”

“I had a good reason. I don’t regret it.”

“I mean, I’m glad you did it. It’s just...I don’t know. Life was very exciting back in high school.”

“Exciting?”

“Well, eventful, compared to life now. Unless you’ve broken any noses recently, I don’t know.”

“Ha, no. I do more wiping noses these days.”

“Oh!” Daichi’s heart bottomed out. “Do you have...kids?” 

Suga stared for a second, confused. “Do I have--oh! Not my kids. The kids at school. I teach--well. I guess it’s the equivalent of American third grade.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Don’t scare me like that. I’m, like, nineteen.”

Daichi laughed. “Pretty sure you’re twenty-nine.”

“Same difference. I’m too young to subject myself to parenthood. I would never take care of children if I didn’t get paid for it. Being a parent is awful, honestly. You do all this work you don’t get paid for, but not only that, you yourself pay to maintain the kids.”

“I’m sure the parents of your students love hearing that take.”

“They do. They’re like, ‘great idea, Sugawara-san! Where’s the nearest orphanage?’”

Daichi snorted. “Oh my god. Hey, are you busy right now? I could buy you a beer. So we can stop standing here in the stationary store.”

“Oh.” Suga looked down as if she’d forgotten she was holding things she wanted to buy, then looked up and smiled. “Yes. Let’s do that.”

We are friendly, mature adults. We’re two old friends catching up. This is normal, to catch up with someone. And we are mature. We are only thinking about catching up. We are mature enough to not be thinking about sex, even if we’ve had sex before. Mature adults move past these things. Mature adults know that friendship is more valuable than sex, and they know that having sex with someone in the past has nothing to do with the present.

Daichi chanted this over and over to herself. She’d been doing just fine up until they moved on to dinner, when Suga finished up her third beer of the night and started touching Daichi’s arm more. This is fun. Getting a little tipsy and more touchy? This is normal. Just having platonic fun.

She kept reassuring herself of that on the walk from the train to Suga’s apartment. And when they had kissed soft and sweet before they’d even taken their shoes off.

Sometimes adults had sex, Daichi thought, head spinning as Suga’s hands trailed over her body to hold her waist. That was fine. It didn’t mean anything. Adults could be mature about these things. It was just sex.

Just sex, just fun, in Suga’s bedroom. The whole apartment was so Suga. Art and photographs on the walls in an informal, eclectic way. Cozy, lived in. A little cluttered. Daichi wanted to know the stories behind every tchotchke. Wanted to sit at the small kitchen table. 

The two of them were unhurried. Soft, with just an undercurrent of desperation. The setting-up and pre-foreplay and even the foreplay were peppered with them asking the same insecure questions of each other--’are you sure?’ ‘we don’t have to do this’ ‘do you feel sober enough?’ ‘I don’t want to take advantage’ ‘we can stop, it’s fine, truly’ ‘you’re sure you want this?’ ‘I don’t want to go too far and make you uncomfortable’ ‘I don’t want to be too intense for you’ ‘will tell me if it doesn’t feel good?’ ‘will you tell me if you want to stop?’ ‘you know we can stop whenever, no questions asked?’ ‘I just want you to enjoy it’ ‘I won’t be offended if you want to stop’ ‘I can leave whenever, even if it’s in the middle of the night’ ‘you know I wasn’t trying to seduce you, right? You know I just want to be in your company’ ‘you know you’re way more important to me than sex?’ 

Eventually they were both convinced that they were allowed to want each other. And that yes, the other person wanted them in the same way (a lot). And that it was okay to let go and do what they wanted. To stare and grab and use selfishly. A switch flipped for Daichi when she realized that she wasn’t the only one who wanted voraciously and, as improbable as it sounded, she wasn’t the only one who wanted to plunge into this headfirst, reckless, intense, messy, uncomposed, greedy. They found each other in the middle. 

“Daichi, baby--fuck, that’s so good, come up here, I need to kiss you--” So she did. “It’s so good, you’re so good--it shouldn’t feel like this--”

“What?”

“Why do you feel so good?” Suga looked like an angel, all flushed with her short silver hair splayed out on the pillow. “We’re basically strangers.”

Daichi looked at her, breathing heavily. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No no. Don’t--” she interrupted herself with a moan-- “don’t you dare stop. Fuck. It’s just--why?”

“You’re thinking too hard.” All you need to know is that you’re mine right now.

IV.

It was cold as fuck. The scarf wrapped around her face helped, but Suga definitely wasn’t wearing enough clothing.

Hopefully the woman next to her wasn’t an asshole. “Hi. Sorry to bother you, but do you know if this train stops at 39th street?”

“It will, yeah.” 

Suga nodded. “Thank you.”

She must have still looked worried, because the woman (similarly bundled up, but in a classy New Yorker way) took pity on her. “If you lose track, just know you’ll pass through 42nd right before. It’s Times Square. A lot of people will get on and off.”

“Okay, that helps. Thanks.” Suga stared for a second too long and the woman gave her a weird look. “Sorry. You just resemble someone I know.”

“I’d call you racist for that, but you’re Asian too.”

Suga laughed. “No, this is one of those rare times when there is actually a resemblance and not just the same demographic.”

“It’s funny, you actually look like someone I know.”

“There’s nothing of me showing!”

The woman laughed. “The same eyes. And same mole.” She tapped next to her own left eye.

“Weird.”

“It’d be funny if we did somehow know each other.”

“Yeah. I’m not even from here, though. Obviously.”

“Short visit?”

“Yeah, I suppose. Are you from here?”

“Nah, I grew up on the West Coast.”

“Cool. On the coast-coast, or…?”

“I wish. No, in California, just a very boring part of it.”

“When I first visited California, I thought it would be like American tv and movies. But it ended up being boring too.”

“I hope you at least got to see the ocean before you went home.”

“Not really. Well, once. On an ill-advised road trip I took with my...friend. We were seventeen. And clueless.”

“Yeah, I did the same thing once or twice.”

“Is this--”

“No, we’ve got a while left.”

“Thanks. I feel really lucky I sat next to someone helpful. And nice.”

The woman laughed. “That’s funny. I always have to fight my inclination to be too nice here. The rule in this city is ‘mind your business and don’t get taken advantage of.’ But I’m naturally, like, very nice and friendly. I have to work hard to look mean.”

“It worked! Really, I was intimidated at first.”

“Oh good. But hey--let me ruin my image further.” She pulled a thick pair of gloves out of her bag. “Take these. You’re shivering.”

“Like, to keep? I couldn’t. They’re yours.”

“I’m already wearing some! Seriously, I have no space in my closet already. You’d be doing me a favor.”

“...Okay. Thank you.” She put the gloves on. “So warm.”

“Good.” 

Suga laughed. 

“What?”

“Sorry, you’re just very much like my friend. The one you resemble? The generosity, the caring for people. She’s even from California as well.”

“Huh. And she lives in the city?”

“No, DC. Well, I’m pretty sure she still does. We’re not really in touch anymore.”

“What’s her name? Maybe we’ve met.”

“Uhh. I feel like she wouldn’t want me giving her full name out to strangers on the subway.”

Laughter. “That’s true. Fair enough.”

“Let’s see. Well, I have a trivia question about her, and if you get it right you definitely know her.”

“Okay. Hit me.”

“Alright...Maiko is important to her. Who or what is Maiko?”

The woman went pale. “That’s my sister’s name.”

Weird. “Well, you don’t happen to have a brother named Kosuke, do you?” Suga said it jokingly, but the woman’s face looked even more scared.

“You’re not Suga.” The woman said it plainly.

“You can’t be Daichi.”

They stared at each other, terrified. “...Suga?”

“Um, yeah. It’s me.”

“I’m Daichi.”

“No fucking way. This is not happening right now.”

“Why the fuck are you in New York?!”

“Why the fuck are you in my subway car giving me your gloves!”

Daichi pinched an exposed part of Suga’s wrist and it hurt. Suga yanked one of her gloves off and returned the favor.

“It hurt.”

“Yeah.”

“This is not happening right now.”

“What the fuck.”

“Why are you here?”

“It’s a long story. It was a very weird, last minute thing--what stop is this--”

“58th, you’re okay. Do you have a place to stay?”

“I do, apparently. The friend of my friend’s cousin rents out his place as an AirBnB, and no one’s staying there tonight, and he’s letting me stay for free.”

“Is it close?”

“Um. It’s a little out of the way, apparently. My phone died, so I don’t have the directions up--I have the address, though. Once I transfer downtown, I’m going to take--fuck, what’s it called--oh, the Path? And get off after thirty minutes. And then his place is a straight shot from the station, just ten minutes’ walk--”

“You’re sure it’s the Path ? That’s the one that goes to New Jersey.”

“Yeah, that’s where he lives.”

“Suga. That’s an entirely different state.”

“But it’s close, they said. Barely in New Jersey.”

“And you know this guy.”

“Well, I’ve never met him personally. But my friend is very trustworthy, so her cousin probably is too. So his friend is probably trustworthy as well.”

“With all due respect. I know it’s not my business, but between it being so far away, you not being confident in how to get there, and never having met the man who’s hosting you...it seems like more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Well, maybe,” Suga said, annoyed. “But it makes more sense than getting an expensive hotel room.” It was none of Daichi’s damn business anyway.

“Well...would you stay in my apartment?” Daichi looked uncertain, but when Suga didn’t shoot her down immediately, she continued. “It’s ten percent selfishly wanting to see you, ninety percent concerned about your safety and comfort. Zero percent propositioning you.” Suga felt unsure, and it must have shown on her face. “You can leave anytime, if you don’t want to be there, and I’ll pay for your taxi, no questions asked. I’ll leave you completely alone, if you want. I have a guest room so you’ll have privacy. Everything is clean and comfy. I have food.”

“But...it’s such a big inconvenience for you. Especially with no notice.”

“Not at all. Really, it would make me happy. And we’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes--ten more minutes on the train, then just a three minute walk.”

“...Alright. If you’re really sure.”

“I am.” Daichi smiled at her-- the same smile, after all these years-- and Suga was confused by how to think about her. Daichi was a stranger who Suga was connected to with thin gossamer threads of history. By all accounts, they should have snapped a long time ago. We’re both thirty-five, Suga thought as they walked through the snow. We met when Daichi was sixteen. God, had she really been sixteen? We were kids, babies. We had no idea what we were doing.

It was normal for lovesick teenage passion to feel smaller and less serious from the perspective of adulthood. Suga had grown out of feelings that had once seemed too intense to ever fade. It was normal to be grateful for those times and think of them fondly as they dissipated from her memory. 

But the universe seemed stubbornly intent on not letting them forget each other. Did Daichi feel the same way? Or were their paths crossing only amusing anomalies to her?

It was hard to tell. She was her same lovely self: organized and thoughtful, hell-bent on making Suga welcome and comfortable. Her apartment was beautiful as well. Nicely decorated, but more importantly, it felt like a home.

They ate leftover fettuccine alfredo and some fancy lentil-vegetable thing while curled up on the couch in the living room. It was good, and Suga said so.

“I’m glad.”

“I feel like I’m finally starting to thaw out.” Suga squeezed one hand with the other and wiggled her fingers.

“You poor thing. This is the absolute worst time you could have visited.”

Suga laughed. “I hope this doesn’t start a pattern of the kid being stubbornly inconvenient.” 

“Whose kid?”

“My friends just had a baby. Like, just had a baby...twenty-four hours ago? Not only was he five weeks premature, he decided to come out while his moms were on a trip to another country. In the middle of a snowstorm.”

“No way.” Daichi’s eyes were wide. “So they’re Japanese, but the baby was born here?”

“Yup. It’s been very stressful for them, and that’s an understatement.”

“Oh my god, I can’t even imagine. Was this a planned trip?”

“Not at all. My friend--the one not carrying the baby--has family here in New York, and her uncle passed away unexpectedly. They were really close, so she wanted to make the trip for the funeral--but her wife was eight months pregnant.

“So she was going to go, but she didn’t want to leave her wife alone. So then she wasn’t going to go, but then the pregnant wife was like, ‘you’re going,’ and her wife was like, ‘I’m not leaving you,’ and her wife said, ‘well, guidelines say pregnant women can fly up until their thirty-seventh week, and I’m at my thirty-fifth, so we’re both going.’ Which would have been a fine solution, if she hadn’t gone into labor the day after the funeral.”

Daichi winced. “This is making me sweaty just thinking about it. So did they bring you along for support, or…?”

Suga smiled wryly. “They didn’t. I have off from school this week, and I was worried about them, and they’re both kind of anxious people. So I came to bring them a bunch of their baby stuff so they didn’t have to buy more. And so they--especially the one who’d just given birth--could have some familiar things from home. ‘Cause she’ll probably have to stay in the hospital for a week.”

“So you just...booked a flight?”

“Yep.” Suga laughed. “I’m very jetlagged.”

“Suga….” Daichi was staring at her, awed and concerned.

“The baby has my first name as his middle name now, so it was worth it. The funniest part was, they had to get married while she was in labor. A relative handled all the paperwork--and maybe bribed some people, because technically the couple is supposed to go in person. But they don’t have a Japanese marriage certificate, obviously, and they wanted to be able to put themselves down as spouses on the American birth certificate.” 

“This is too crazy to be real.” Daichi shook her head. “Well, I’m very happy for them, and secondhand-stressed for them. And you must be exhausted. How are you still upright?”

“Uh. Adrenaline? The energy drink I bought from a bodega?”

“Want to go crash? I can take your plate, if you’re done.”

“I was actually about to get more fettuccine alfredo.”

“Please do! Eat, eat--”

“And I think I’m too wired to fall asleep, unfortunately,” Suga called as she stepped into the kitchen. “But don’t let me interrupt whatever your evening routine is.”

“My evening routine is, ‘chill until ten, and then actually end up chilling until eleven, then go to bed.’ So don’t worry about that.”

“Ha. Alright.” Suga took her plate of creamy pasta back to the couch. “Your turn.”

“What?”

“Tell me something about you. I just gave you my story.”

“Not very much about you in it, though. Mostly about the new mothers.”

“Well, I’m eating,” Suga said through a mouthful of pasta. “You go.”

Daichi snorted. “Alright, let’s see. I’ve been living here and working at my current job for a year and half. I have a goldfish.” She nodded at the corner behind Suga where yes, there was a little glass bowl with a little orange fish. “Named Star. Um. My family is doing well. My mom started doing Zumba. My dad is the exact same as he’s always been. Maiko is a junior in college and Kosuke graduated in the spring.” Suga shook her head. “I know.”

“Do you like living here?”

“I do. I mean, I don’t feel like I’m going to stay here forever, but it’s good for where I am right now. I’ve made some friends, had some fun times. There’s frustrating things about New York but I feel like they’re outweighed by how much there is to do.”

Suga was deciding how rude she was allowed to be. She wanted to know if Daichi was seeing anyone, and how she afforded an apartment downtown with a guest room. “I can’t believe you found such a great place! When I think of people living in New York, I think ‘dark closet with rats that’s $5,000 a month.’”

Daichi laughed. “That’s not much of an overstatement. Yeah, I was scared of that, so I did some calculating about the salary I would need to be comfortable here. It took two years of sticking around at my old job in DC, but I finally got an offer at the salary I wanted. So I was pretty lucky.”

“Shit. You’re doing pretty well for yourself, Sawamura.” Suga leaned back and grinned. “You’re either at some huge financial corporation that screws poor people over, or you’ve got Elon Musk addicted to your feet pics.”

“Oh my god, ” Daichi said, trying not to laugh. “Funnily enough, it’s neither of those things. I work with what’s called ‘current population snapshots.’ It’s sort of like a public opinion poll, but more complex. We try to figure out what people care about and how they’re feeling.”

“Mind readers.”

“Mind reading but it’s based on, like, a thousand internet things. Like Google searches, and comment sections, and social media posts, and web traffic.”

“That must be so much data.”

“It is.” Daichi’s eyes gleamed. “But I developed a method for using it based on trend patterns from old data and sociological research. Of course, the method needs to be constantly updated because how people use the internet and social media is always changing. So I developed a model for that, too. And the method has been used to accurately understand how different populations are feeling.”

“That’s kind of terrifying. But it also makes complete sense for you.”

“Should I be offended?”

“No, you’re just persistent, detail-oriented, empathetic.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.” Daichi smiled and stood. “Can I take your plate?”

“Thank you--can I help clean up?”

“You can stay firmly seated and tell me whether or not you’d like tea.” The plates clanked together as she loaded them in the dishwasher.

“Yes please.”

Daichi grabbed a pillow and cuddled it to her chest when she sat back down. Cute. “You said you had a break from school. Are you still teaching?”

“I am. Still third grade. Different school, though. I’ve actually moved back to Miyagi.”

“Wow! That’s a big change.”

“It is, yeah...I’m in my second year of teaching there but I still feel like I’m adjusting to not living in Tokyo. I love it, though.”

“That’s so great.” Daichi’s sincere smile made Suga feel warm. “What do you like about it?”

“Slower pace, less smog, more community. A fair number of people I know still. And it still feels like home to me, more than any other place I’ve lived. There’s not a thriving queer dating scene, but I adopted a cat last summer so I don’t even need it.”

Daichi laughed. “Do you have a picture? I wanna see.”

“She looks exactly like every tabby you’ve ever seen, but yes, I have about a million pictures.” Suga pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Oh. I forgot my phone died.”

“I can plug it in for you.”

“Thanks.” She came back with two cups of tea. “Yum. Thank you.”

“Well,” Daichi took a small sip, “at least you can blame being single on living there. I have...absolutely no excuse.”

Suga laughed, feeling glad. “You really don’t, you lucky shit. Queer women probably throw themselves at you every time you walk outside.”

“I mean, I’m trying! I’m going on dates through apps, and my married friends keep setting me up with their other lonely gay friends. And sometimes there’s a second date, or maybe we hook up--”

“Poor Daichi. Hooking up with your date? What a horrible outcome--”

“Shut up--” Daichi kicked at Suga playfully. “ Maybe we hook up, and I’m not complaining about that--”

“Some of us live in the middle of rice fields,” Suga said with a dramatic sigh.

“You knew it was in the middle of rice fields and you moved there anyway. I don’t know what you want from me,” Daichi was trying and failing to hold a stern face. “The POINT is. I never like anyone enough to keep seeing them.”

“Can you tell why?”

Daichi gestured helplessly. “They’re all perfectly lovely people. I just--they’re not interesting to me. I don’t particularly want to get to know them better.”

“Maybe you just don’t want a girlfriend right now?”

“That’s the thing, though! I really do want a serious girlfriend. I just turned thirty-five and I’m looking for someone I can rely on. Someone who’ll support me and give me back rubs. I want a partner. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.” A moment of quiet fell between them.

“Sorry!” Daichi smiled and waved her hand dismissively. “My friends hear this every week. I didn’t mean to subject you to it.”

“That’s okay. And I don’t think it’s too much for you to ask either.”

“Thanks.” They both sipped their tea. Suga looked out the window and saw snow falling in the yellow streetlight. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh--” Suga looked for another moment before dragging her eyes away. “Why do you ask?”

Daichi smiled. “You just looked thoughtful.”

“It’s just hitting me that I’m here. It’s incredibly surreal.”

“I can imagine. ‘Here’ like New York?”

“Yeah. ‘Here’ like in a different country, ‘here’ like in this particular city. And ‘here’ like this apartment.”

“Yeah. I still don’t quite believe that you just plopped down next to me in the subway.”

“It’s really fucking weird.”

“Very fucking weird.”

A pause. “What’s weirder: us running into each other by chance four times in, what, fifteen years...or me feeling like it’s still comfortable and friendly to be with you after all this time even though I don’t know you at all?”

“It hasn’t been four times! This time and colliding at the stationary store.”

“And when we met up while you were on that trip in college.”

“...Oh yeah.”

“And the airport.”

“The air--OH.” Daichi blushed. “God. Don’t know how I forgot that one.”

“Yeah, honestly. What the fuck were we doing?”

“I have never come close to doing anything remotely like that again.”

“Well. I have. But in clubs, not a public place.”

“Yeah, that’s normal. Ish.” Suga laughed. “ Four times?”

Suga shook her head silently and shrugged her shoulders.

“You know, whenever I’ve looked back on those,” Daichi said, “I’ve always been a bit scandalized by how fast things escalated. And attributed it to me being young and stupid. But with how easy it is to talk to you...I can understand better. Why it happened like that. Please don’t take that the wrong way! I’m not trying to hint at something or say good rapport is a direct pathway to sex--”

“What if if it happened like that again?” Daichi looked at her with an adorably confused you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you? “Like, what if we ended up having sex in your apartment.” Daichi opened her mouth, but no words came out. “Seriously. Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t thought about us fucking tonight.”

Daichi’s cheeks were aflame. “I’ve thought about it. But it’s just because you’re an attractive woman--”

“So if one of your attractive, boring dates were sitting where I am, having sex with her would cross your mind the same way?”

“Fuck, Suga, what do you want me to say? ‘Yes, I’ve thought about us fucking tonight, because it’s you, someone who I used to love and someone who feels weirdly easy to talk to, who I like as a person so much, who I have a long history of having good sex with?’”

“We could. I’m thinking about it too.”

“No. Not again. Because--when we’re together, it’s too easy. If we like each other that much, and we’re that compatible, then having sex just makes it confusing.”

“Why? What’s wrong with good sex?”

“Because it makes it feel like we’re together!” Daichi stood up from the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “Six years ago, in Tokyo, in your apartment. It was three am and I had to leave to make my flight. I didn’t want to wake you, so I left you a little note and kissed your forehead. Only you woke up anyway, all hoarse and groggy and confused, saying my name and asking me why I was leaving. You weren’t tipsy or joking or being cute, you were--distressed, sad. Eyes wide open, pulling my arm, saying ‘please, Daichi, don’t leave, stay a little longer. Not yet. Come back to bed. Please hold me?’ And just three hours before that, you’d been inside me, gazing into my eyes, caressing my face, saying you loved how I felt and that I was yours. I don’t know, maybe you act like that to every bitch you fuck because it turns them on. Which is your choice, of course. Maybe I’m the idiot and us hooking up doesn’t mean anything to you. And this is perfectly platonic and not confusing at all. That’s fine. It doesn’t even matter, really, because the bottom line is I’m not having sex with you again.”

They stared at each other. Suga felt like she was about to cry.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so worked up.”

“Don’t apologize. I--I need a moment to collect my thoughts.” Suga stood.

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’ll be in the guest room.”

“I’ll be in my room.”

Tears started rolling down Suga’s face as soon as she shut the door behind her. She turned and saw her own pathetic, crumpling face in the mirror, then turned away in disgust. Hopefully she still had the half-full pack of tissues in her backpack.

Just a moment to breathe, and shed these tears. Suga sat on the bed and squeezed a pillow to her chest. Why was she crying?

She’d been a bit of a dick, pushing Daichi to admit that she wanted to have sex. And forcing Daichi to explain that their hookups were too...intense? emotional? romantic? and she wasn’t going to sleep with Suga again.

It felt like a rejection. Well, it was. But why did it hurt so bad? Suga wasn’t the type to take things personally or cry when she didn’t get her way. Especially because it’s not like Suga was dying to sleep with Daichi. 

Six years ago, Tokyo, Suga’s old apartment. She remembered it well because she journaled about it and often revisited it in her mind. It was hard to stop thinking about. There was an intimacy about it, as Daichi had alluded to. So when she woke up to find Daichi gone--it had hurt. Daichi hadn’t been imagining the closeness between them. Suga had jumped into the intimacy head first for the simple reason that it felt good. In retrospect, it was selfish: I can pretend we’re in love; look how good it feels. But the hours they’d spent together were a gift Suga had wanted to make the most of. It was a once-in-a-lifetime stroke of luck, so she wasn’t holding anything back.

It had never crossed her mind that their intimacy could have led to any further contact between them. To have Daichi for one night--that was enough. More than enough, more than she ever could have hoped for.

Which is why Suga was in favor of sleeping together again tonight. She’d rather be close for one night than none. But for Daichi, it hurt too much to open up that connection if it was immediately severed again. Suga could understand that. 

So they’d keep it platonic, even if that was a different kind of hurt. But there was something Suga needed to make clear.

She knocked lightly on Daichi’s bedroom door. Daichi opened it, looking at her not unkindly, but not welcoming her in either. “Hey.”

“Hi. I’m sorry for what I said. And I just want to explain, um.” Wow, this was easier in Suga’s head. “So, my heart just kind of opens when it’s around you. It’s not some seductive front I put on when I’m with a woman. It’s this special kind of intimacy ‘cause of our history, I guess, but I’m sorry for hurting you by overdoing it. Indulging in it. And I’m sorry for pushing you about having sex tonight. I think--” she cleared her throat. ‘I just wanted to hear you say that you  still care for me? And I wanted you to want me the same way I want you. Which isn’t fair, because I want you more than the normal amount, and that’s selfish of me, you’re not mine, it’s just whenever I see you I--yeah.”

Daichi frowned. Started to speak, then cut herself off. “Mm.” She furrowed her brow almost to the point of glaring. “So what’s your plan for tomorrow?”

“Oh. Um, tonight I’ll probably buy the cheapest flight I can get for tomorrow, then I’ll head over to see my friends in the late morning, and then I’ll fly home.”

“Hm.” Daichi kept frowning. “I need to do something. Can I meet you in the living room?”

“Uh, yeah.” Suga was a little miffed that Daichi hadn’t responded at all to her confession. Then again, it wasn’t like Daichi owed her anything.

It was almost five minutes before Daichi came out to the living room. She still had a strange look on her face.

Suga stood. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ll leave if you want.”

“What? No.”

“Okay. You just seem upset.”

“I’m not, I’m just--” Daichi sighed shakily. “I need to say something.”

Suga nodded.

“Look. I care about you. And you care about me. And something about this,” Daichi gestured at the space between the two of them, “for me, it’s hard. It’s okay when we’re apart. But everything falls apart when we’re together. It’s like you said. Something like your heart opens in a different way. And the intimacy feels better and realer than anything else. Than anyone else. I don’t know what that means, and it makes me feel stupid for being so sentimental. So attached. The whole thing is confusing, and all I know is I can’t watch you leave again.”

Daichi’s deep brown eyes burned a hole in Suga. “So. Let’s stop fucking around. Life is too short to let someone like you go. I want to try this. Fuck logistics. And fuck extending this period of uncertainty by dating and tiptoeing around each other trying to figure out our feelings. I know that I want you. I already know that I love you. I don’t think I ever stopped, really. I want to support you and every dream you have, I want to grow together. I think my life would be a lot better with your humor, your smile, the way you care for others, your irreverancy, your bravery. I admire you so much. I love how we fit together even after all of these years. I love that there’s so many stories from your life that I don’t know yet. I want to know everything. I want all of you. Suga. I don’t have it all figured out, but I know this sits right with me more than any job I’ve ever taken. You may think this is foolish, that I don’t know you at all. But I love what I do know. And I want to spend the rest of my life learning the rest.”

This sounds like a marriage proposal, Suga thought hysterically. Jesus, Suga, are you for real, why on earth would Daichi be proposing to you, what reality are you living in--

Daichi got down on one knee and pulled a tiny silver circle out of her sweatpants pocket. “Sugawara Koushi. Suga. Will you marry me?”

Suga’s mouth hung open. Her brain filled with static. “Huh?”

“Will you,” Daichi said, trying and failing to hold back a wide smile, “marry me?”

“Like, as a joke?”

Daichi laughed as her eyes welled up with tears. “I couldn’t joke about this. Not when I’ve dreamed about it for so many years.”

“Daichi.” Suga knelt down too and embraced her. They held each other tightly, afraid to let go. Both of them were sniffling.

“I know this is crazy,” Daichi whispered. “But I can’t just watch you walk away. The logistics make this sort of an all or nothing thing. I’m very certain that I’d rather have all of you than none of you.” 

Well, when she put it like that, it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “You think we should spend the rest of our lives together?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out. But I think it will.”

“Really?”

Daichi pulled back to look at her. “Yes. Do you?”

Suga smiled. “It seems so presumptuous to say yes. But objectively, if I had to put money on an outcome, I’d bet that we’ll make it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wanna see what you’re gonna look like as an old lady. I want--” Suga was truly crying now. She could see it so clearly, the two of them growing old together. Sitting outside with big grandma sunhats on. Walking slowly, a little hunched over, their wrinkled hands comfortably intertwined.

“Is that a yes? To the big question?”

“But I live in Japan!”

“Then I’ll come join you. If you’d have me.”

“Uprooting your whole life here?”

“Hey, they make planes for a reason. We can always come back and visit. And I’ve heard great things about Miyagi.”

“You’re really serious.”

“Very much so.”

Suga’s stomach was doing flips. Her arms were covered with goosebumps. “Then okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Yes to--”

“Yes, I would very much like to be your wife.”

Daichi’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Suga.”

“Sweetheart. Put the ring on my finger first.”

“Right.” Daichi sniffled . Suga’s hands were shaking. “There we go. We’ll pick out real ones together.”

“I like this one too.” It was a simple silver ring with a tiny circle of turquoise. It sat happily on the ring finger of her left hand. “Now get off the floor so we can kiss properly.”

They held each other for hours on the couch, laughing and crying. It was too exciting to sleep.

“Hey.” Suga kissed Daichi’s head.

“Hi.” Her fiancee’s ( fiancee’s !) voice was so sweet and sleepy.

“Guess what.”

Daichi looked up, an expression of pure contentment on her face. “What?”

“I’m engaged .” Suga held up her left hand to prove it.

“Wow! Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

“Not in the slightest.” Suga rubbed Daichi’s chest gently. “You’re going to be my bride, you know.”

Daichi let out a tiny happy squeal. “There’s nothing else in the world I’d rather be.”

“Except my wife.”

“Oh my god, I’m so excited to be your wife.”

The snow fell outside. Suga felt immensely lucky. She sent a secret love message to her heartbroken seventeen year old self. She could imagine it so easily, the hollowness while looking out the plane window, getting farther from Daichi every second. It’s gonna be okay. One day, you won’t have to miss her any longer.