After a tragedy, Amila Johnson abandons her life in New York and retreats back to her birthplace of Houston. She tries to start anew but she can't get far with the skills of being an almost classically trained ballerina.
Deciding to take up her fri...
*Justin's name has been changed to Savion Pryce. (Thanks to @readbydesiree and @GGCerise for the suggestions and everyone else who gave me helpful choices)
Some of the New Yorkers Amila encountered would look at her oddly when she told them her favorite sushi place was in Houston, some would even laugh in her face but she didn't care; she shrugged it off and went back to honing the craft that sent her to the Empire State. She didn't waste time telling that about how immensely diverse her hometown was, that it was a melting pot of cultures, ethnicities, and dialects. It wasn't just spurs, longhorns, and big buckles; one of which she'd never actually seen in person. One could be immersed in a culture thousands of miles away from distant lands; lands she'd read about in books and planned to visit once she joined a company.
As she sat at the thick bamboo table with study chairs to match she was reminded of one of the countries on that list. Japan. It was one of the few countries she attached to her list from word of mouth and not by diving deep into a book. Mrs. Takagi would always tell her eloquent stories about her youth in the island country and growing up as the daughter of a fisherman who went off to Tokyo for school and fell in love with a young chef.
That young chef was no longer as sprightly as he was when he first brought his new wife to Texas but he was still in his favorite place doing one of the things he loved more than his wife and three children. Amila didn't fight the curve of her lips as she glanced over at the man who felt almost like family from all the time she spent at the restaurant that also carried his family name. The Takagi's felt like family, his wife and her mom also set up a ploy to match her up with their eldest son. It didn't go far but it did get her a prom date so she didn't frown at it; proms were always better when you went with friends anyway.
They were also at the funeral. Her eyes were blurry with tears and she was still a bit drowsy from the cocktail her doctor injected her with after suffering from a heartbeat too rapid and hyperventilation but she remembered them being there. She remembered the comforting hugs they bestowed her with and the gestures of kindness they treated her with. Even now, Mrs. Takagi cared for her like she was one of her daughters, insisting that she eat her fill and her money wasn't needed.
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The table was covered with Amila's favorites; sushi, donburi, onigiri, and gyoza with the promise of kasutera for dessert. A promise that Amila's lunch compadre will probably not take part in. She was sure of it as she took a sip of gyokuro tea from the blue ceramic yunomi. He was still feasting on edamame drizzled with sesame sauce. There was no way he was going to eat a spongy cake rich with sugar, flour, and syrup. But she was, she was even going to get some mochi to go.
"I love them, Mila." Savion beamed at the box that could fit in the palm of his hand but he used both of his hands; holding the gift as if it was something to behold and not just silver ballet slipper cufflinks. "I'll wear them of course." He delicately closed the box and set it back in the gift bag. "I understand that you can't make it to the opening."
