Yet Another Emirati Kinda Love Story Prologue Tokyo, Shibuya August 2013 Mansour stepped off the JR Yamanote line and went down the stairs. People milled about going in different directions while he tried to get his bearings. He swiped the train card, leaving the dimness of the station and went out into the sunlight. There was a thrumming in his blood as he heard the sound of laughter and loud music coming from screens as vans blared the latest J. Pop single. He picked up his step in time with the music and bumped into a few people as he walked. The traffic lights were green and he stood there mesmerized as the crowd crossed the streets. Some would head off diagonally and some in a helter-skelter of directions. He watched the wave of Japanese, assorted tourists and expats; the well-dressed, elegant, punk rock, and goth. He saw her smile in a child’s grin. He saw the wisdom of her eyes in an old woman’s crinkled eyes. He found fragments of her in a million strangers. It overwhelmed him suddenly to feel so close to her when he had only seen her once. Mansour realized then that the magic of the Shibuya Crossing no longer held him captive. Instead, he found himself searching for her. He hurried towards Starbucks which offered a vantage spot of the crossing ignoring puzzled looks. He ran up the steps to the second floor and took a seat in front of the window. He was maddened, heart pounding at every likeness. It was only later that he realized that he had been sitting there for hours and had forgotten to order coffee. He felt melancholy seeping into his bones wondering if he would ever see her again.