***
I giggled nervously as we entered an izakaya Shiro had chosen.
It was a small teppanyakiya san, one of those places where food is cooked in front of you on an iron grid table. I have never been to one before. I secretly did a somersault at the sight of food being tossed on the grill. I let out a relieved sigh at the thought that no dead fish eyes will stare at me accusingly tonight.
'Irashaimaseeee', a handful of employees greeted us at the door. There was some smoke in the air and a mouthwatering aroma of steak.
My belly rumbled at the deliciousness I saw and I remembered I haven't eaten anything since breakfast.
'I could eat a cow' I chuckled and looked up at Shiro. He was taller than me and I had to almost fall back to see his face. But I wanted to see it, so I skipped in front of him and did a signature pirouette to face him. I couldn't read him. I wanted to.
As if he could read my mind, he took one step and erased the distance between us. I was aware of every centimetre of my body that came in contact with him. It almost hurt where we touched. The veins on his neck flared up and I knew he felt the same. He exhaled slowly and I smelled sweet mint in his breath. Never have I wanted to kiss anybody this much in my life. It scared the living shit out of me. I didn't know this man standing in front of me but I wanted to be lost in his arms. I had to get away from him. I turned away.
'Then it's good I brought you here. They have the best steak in town,' he said to the back of my head.
Shiro took the lead and I followed. I saw people turning around to look at us. It could be because I'm a foreigner but by the cheeky looks of the women in the room I knew it's all about him. A sense of pride took over me as I walked next to this gorgeous guy.
As we took our seats at the counter, a young girl approached and handed us a couple of menus and a sheet of what seemed like the specials for the day. As soon as she landed her eyes on Shiro, her fake eyelashes fluttered in a seizure. He grabbed the menus and didn't give her as much as a glance, his features exuding disdain. He probably got this a lot because as much as I hated to admit it, she was cute and yet he didn't appear to be swayed at all.
'Do you mind if I order for the both of us. I know the chef here so-' he asked as I made myself comfortable in front of the teppan.
'Go ahead, I can't read it anyway'.
This wasn't a lie, I really cannot read them, but mostly I wanted to make every woman in this establishment jealous.
Stare as long as you want ladies, but he is mine tonight. Mmmwa ha ha ha!
The young server came back with two glasses of water and two little white towels folded neatly. I took one to clean my hands ignoring the deadly stare she gave me.
If looks could kill sweetheart, I leer at her, I'd crush you in a heartbeat.
The towel was wet and I made use of the opportunity to press it down to my neck. I purred in delight when the cold cloth made contact with my flushed skin. I opened my eyes to see Shiro studying me. He didn't avert his gaze and neither did I. Not this time. Five seconds, ten seconds, fifteen. He was the predator, I was the prey. I was mesmerizes by this man who is practically forcing me to fall for him.
I forbid myself to blink. My throat felt dry as I spotted him clenching his jaw. His face looked pained. For an unknown to me reason, I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to pull his head to my chest and tell him everything is alright. In this moment I am happy he chose the counter because I don't have to look at him for longer than I have to.
'You come here a lot?' I broke the silence pretending to be distracted by the traditional Japanese interior as I looked around. I was probably too obvious because for a split second half a grin shaded his perfect mouth.
'Sometimes,' he replied casually.
The chef behind the teppan turned around to ask something in Japanese and Shiro made the order.
'What do you want to drink?'
'Mmm, what do they have here?' I answered sheepishly.
I didn't want him to think I was a drinker but I could sure use a vodka martini right about now. This place looked good, but not good enough to be serving martinis.
'Wine. Red wine,' I blurted out, hoping it would make me look more sophisticated.
He passed on my order to the waitress and turned around to face me.
'So, how do you like Japan so far?'
At least he isn't asking me about the weather, I thought to myself.
I hated it when people asked me about how I like Japan. The culture was confusing to me, the people reserved, the language a curse and the men skinnier than Tara Reid and shorter than Tom Cruise. Not exactly my cup of tea, but I couldn't say that to him.
'Oh, it's a really beautiful country,' my voice was sweeter than Manuka honey. Even I couldn't fight the urge to cringe at the sound of it.
Shiro was not really buying my answer, but gave me a complacent nod.
Here goes sophisticated down the drain.
'Ok. It's been rough. I am really happy I made friends with your sister though.'
His brow creased in surprise, 'is that so?'
'Of course I do, she is a lovely person, kind and funny and-'
His evaluating squint stopped me from continuing my so called love confession to Miyu.
Oh, ok. We shall not go there. Obviously bipolar runs in the family, I told myself.
Luckily, the drinks arrived and I got the chance to shut up without making it uncomfortably evident.
I took a sip of the wine and let out a hum. God I needed this.
'It was a tough day,' I added, trying to disguise the obvious appeasement.
'I can see that'.
His hand reached out to my forehead and brushed away a couple of stray hairs that covered it. He stopped to look at me as if asking for permission to continue what he had in mind. I lowered my eyes and he took it as approval. His soft fingers slowly brushed my forehead, feeling up the protrusion. He was gentle, so gentle that ice-cream would last longer than me in this uncomfortably sweltering room.
I mustered some courage to look at him. Shiro was too engrossed into studying my bump. He looked sad. Genuinely.
'Ha ha,' I laughed theatrically, 'it's no big deal, doesn't even hurt,' and pushed his hand away. He quickly tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans, his breath hitched in his throat.
Don't blame me for acting irrationally around this guy, it was the freaking universe conspiring against me. First I stole his cookies, next thing I know I showed him my boobs. We were advancing a bit too fast.
I got saved by the arrival of our meat and the chef's skilful culinary performance as he masterfully chopped and diced the food and set the entire grill aflame in the blink of an eye. Shiro had ordered Kobe steak, which is like the most expensive type of meat in the whole world.
'This is so good,' I said as I downed one bite after another.
'Yeah, it'd better be,' he looked amused. 'Did you know these cows are fed beer instead of water? It's supposed to make their meat tender. So do we have your approval, Top Food Critic a.k.a. Amy?
'It's bloody marvellous,' I answered licking my lips in delight. His eyes darken at my involuntary act.
'They also get massages with rice wine and listen to classical music you know.'
'No, I didn't as a matter of fact. Lucky them. Who would give me a massage?' I smiled coyly. 'No surprise I'm such a dimwit because all I listen to is Beyonce and Katy Perry,' I continued as we both broke into a heartfelt laugh.
The Kobe steak was followed by grilled prawns, sautè shiitake mushrooms and broiled asparagus, and ended with mind-blowing sweet potato ice-cream. Damn, who knew that something like POTATO ice-cream could taste this good. I squirmed and moaned at every bite taking pleasure at the sight of a riveted Shiro.
He was right there listening to me, smiling warmly, telling me bits and pieces about him and yet he made sure of the distance between us. He wouldn't touch me after I brushed him away.
'This was lovely. Thank you very much,' I said to the chef, not sure that he understood anything of what I was saying. He smiled back and I knew that some things can get across the language barriers.
Shiro was standing behind me. I could feel his hand on my back.
Lightning stroke where he touched. I wondered if he felt it too. His face was statuesque. I couldn't help but pout.
The chef caught me but continued his conversation with Shiro. I didn't understand a thing of what they were which made me insecure.
Amy, learn some effing Japanese, damn it!
I wanted to know what they were talking about so I focused on making out at least a word or two. I froze at 'beautiful gafrendo'. That was the Japanese for 'girlfriend'.
Did he just call me Shiro's girlfriend? Why isn't Shiro denying it? I gasped and forcibly pushed the air to the pit of my stomach.
I squinted at both of them, oscillating from one to the other. Shiro's face was as unaffected as ever. He sure took the meaning of poker face to a whole new level.
He nodded in response to the chef's comments.
I continued being the involuntary witness to their exchange of pleasantries. Finally Shiro pointed towards the door.
'Ready to go?' he asked.
I tried to stand up. I reached for the counter, balancing myself but it was too late. Shiro was already holding me by the waist.
'Are you alright?' There was worry in his voice.
'Absolutely. It must be the wine,' I smiled shyly.
'Or the hit to your head. You should get this checked out,' he slid his thumb over my forehead, 'do you need a minute?'
'Yes, please. Let me splash some cold water onto my face. I'll be right back.'
The lady's room smelled of vanilla and I immediately relaxed. I leaned onto the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. It wasn't pretty. The room was spinning again.
I need to sit down.
I lowered myself onto the lid of the toilet, closed my eyes and that put a stop to the room sprinting in circles around me.
I sat like that for a few moments when the lid started making grunting noises as it shifted under me.
What the hell.
I jumped off. Suddenly the lid opened and music started playing.
Jesus Christ the toilet is singing to me.
I questioned whether I indeed had a serious concussion, when on cue the water flushed on its own.
It's possessed for fuck's sake! The demonic loo from hell!
I was even more confused now. These Japanese toilets will see the death of me. With their heated seats, built in bidets and atmosphere music, they were very comfortable but this one definitely took the gold for the freakiest loo ever.
Vade exiit daemonium, I grunted, still proud of the fact that I remembered the latin for ''begone demon".
I stared at it in disbelief. I have read about the magic toilets that can measure blood pressure and weight, but now was not the time to study this miraculous piece of technology.
I took a couple of deep breaths and pinched my cheeks to add some colour to them as I prepared to exit.
I wasn't sure if Shiro would still be waiting for me inside so I decided to pass by the counter before heading out to the parking lot.
The bill had been settled. Of course I had offered to split it, but he insisted on paying for everything and I gave in. Not something I would normally do, but I wanted to make sure I would see him again. So I offered to pay him back next time, meaning there was a next time because I would make damn sure of it.
I exited the lady's room in a hurry, just to be stopped in my tracks by a stone heard chest.
'Excuse me,' damn it.
'How are you feeling?' I am pleasantly surprised to see Shiro standing in front of me. Upon meeting my disheveled looks, he leaned leisurely into the wall in front of the restroom.
'I-I'm fine. Genki.' I stuttered. By the way he looks at me, I know he was concerned.
I took the lead this time and steadily walked towards the door. I caught another glimpse of the grinning chef waiving us good bye.
As we exited all the employees yell out 'Arigatou gozaimashita'. They're so loud that I can't help but smile awkwardly at them.
As we're walking towards the bike, I could hear Shiro's footsteps behind me, shielding me, studying me, pursuing me. I didn't stop, I couldn't. My head was pounding, as did my heart. I didn't know what it was, the hit to the head, the wine or Shiro's intoxicating smell.
'Let's get you home. You need some rest.' He hastily got onto the motorcycle, silently handing me the helmet.
'Thank you,' I answered.
The engine roared muffling my voice. I let my hands snake around his waist, hungry to touch him.
You confuse me Shiro.
In response his back arched, allowing me to sink deeper into him. I let my head rest onto his back and greedily breathed him in.