Midnight and the Meaning of Love by Souljah Sister

Author:Souljah, Sister [Souljah, Sister]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-21T21:53:34.178000+00:00

* * *

Using my new phone card, I cal ed Chiasa to check her. Instead of my on-point sentinel, my lucky charm, the one who had my wife’s diary and al the information completed by now, I reached a recording.

“Ryoshi, wait for me. I’m coming. Meet me at the station at seven p.m. Don’t eat without me!” she said in English, and then her voice mail began speaking in Japanese, I presumed for al other cal ers. I put the phone down. I should have known that Chiasa would fol ow me even though I told her to remain in Tokyo. I had thought about it, in fact. I had thought that the $300 roundtrip bul et train ticket, Tokyo to Kyoto, would separate her from her enthusiasm and determination. But it didn’t.

As I moved toward the station at 7:15 p.m., already past her meet-up time, I speculated on what she had told her grandfather for him to al ow her to travel here. Or if she had spoken with her own father on the phone before leaving Tokyo, and how much had she explained to him? Or had she kept every detail a secret, like I preferred her to do? Also, where would she sleep when I didn’t even choose a place to stay for myself? And what was her reason for coming?

Black Birkenstocks, black cargo pants, and a tight black tee. She had her pretty silver eyes outlined in black eyeliner and something else on her was also switched, but I broke my stare.

On her back she carried a purple backpack stuffed with two weeks’ worth of items, it seemed. Her sterling silver belt buckle was embossed with two clashing swords modeled after the patch I got from Yuka. She smiled as soon as she saw me. I smiled too.

“What’s happening?” I asked her, my curiosity very elevated.

“Did you eat?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“Good, let’s go,” she said, bumping me with her elbow.

“Let me take that from you,” I said, with my hand already on one of her backpack straps.

“Where’s your backpack?” she asked.

“Here in a locker. I didn’t get a room yet,” I told her.

“We got a room. I have a lot to report to you,” she said with serious excitement.

Everything moved ten times faster with Chiasa here. We picked up my backpack and jumped on the bus to what she said was the Kyoto downtown area. Rocking two backpacks, one on my back, the other in my hand, we pressed ourselves further into the packed bus.

The night breeze was warm, a rush of heated air massaging our faces. We walked among medium-sized continuous crowds on a main strip of shops of every imaginable kind. Some boasted 500,000 yen silk kimonos that could not have been more perfect unless designed by my Umma!

There were stores exclusively sel ing wooden shoes of every style. There were restaurants of sushi and sashimi, yakitori and taki yaki, sake bars, teahouses, and even burger joints. Most canopies, awnings, and signs were written in kanji.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.