I miss the rest of the term, but the school allows me to study from home. I just have to pass the final or I'll be stuck in school during the summer break. Kioko-chan is a top student. She comes over every day with my school assignments and helps me study. She probably eats dinner in my house at least as often, if not more often, than her own. I frequently see her helping mom prepare dinner in the kitchen like a model daughter-in-law.

The next Saturday is an off day at school so Kioko-chan and I spend most of the day playing video games together. Dad comes home a little early and in a good mood. We order pizza and pop some popcorn and watch a couple of movies together. The hour is late when the last movie ends and mom calls Kioko-chan's mom in a panic, apologizing for keeping her out so late. Kioko-chan's mom tells her not to worry and, since it's so late, they don't need to bring her back until tomorrow.

I go to my room and change into my pajamas then I'm surprised to find Kioko-chan in the bathroom brushing her teeth, wearing little more than a long T-shirt she borrowed from my mom. Mom had found an extra toothbrush for her and told her we'd keep it there in the bathroom just for her use. Kioko-chan smiles at me, starts to drip toothpaste and hastily spits in the sink.

"I'll come back later," I say.

"Don't be silly. Go ahead and brush." Kioko-chan returns to brushing. She steps aside for me, then helps me prepare my toothbrush since I'm having to do everything one handed. I start brushing, feeling very uncertain.

We stand there, our bodies just inches apart, brushing our teeth like some sort of married couple. I try not to notice how the front of her shirt shakes as she brushes, though I'm pretty sure she's not wearing a bra underneath. We look at each other in the mirror. Kioko-chan's eyes are happy little crescents, mine are wide open and alarmed. She finishes first and rinses, then turns to me, leaning close. For one moment I think she's going to kiss me again.

"Good night." She leaves.

I smell her minty breath and feel her hair gently brush me as she passes by and I'm anxious, happy and a little disappointed all at the same time. "Good night," I gurgle.

Kioko-chan sleeps in the guest room across the hall from me. I lie awake late into the night trying not to think about how my girlfriend is sleeping under the same roof as me. She's only a few feet away. I remember the smell of her hair and, as embarrassing as the thought is, I think I want to hold her. Other alien and unformed thoughts stir deep inside me. I feel like things that were unimaginable yesterday might soon be possible. I could probably get up and go into her room right now and I wonder if anyone would care. I can even almost imagine our mothers being pleased, though I'm pretty sure the rest of the bridal gifts would suddenly make an appearance.

I roll over and try to concentrate on how I want to re-work my character's skills in the game we had been playing. Eventually, I fall asleep.

* * *

At the end of term I go to school on a Saturday afternoon while the other kids are in clubs and take my term final test. Having enjoyed Kioko-chan's constant help, I do better than I have ever done on any of my other tests, so instead of having to go to summer school I only have to spend the summer in physical therapy. I once asked Kioko-chan if she had joined any clubs and she said, "Yes, the go-home club," and laughed. I worry that she is spending so much time with me, that she doesn't have a chance to make friends at school. I also worry that she doesn't seem to care.

Supposedly, as a reward for my good performance, our parents decide that we're all going to go together to the Tanabata festival at night and dress up in traditional clothes. That's all fine for mom and dad, but I'm not too enthusiastic even before I pull my old yukata out of the closet. I've had it for years. It's worn, faded and barely comes down to my knees.

"Mom!" OK, I'll admit that came out as a bit of a whine. "I can't wear this!" I'm hoping she'll let me go in my regular clothes.

"Don't worry," she calls back. "You've got some new clothes in the box on the bed."

I turn around to find a big, wide, flat, white box on my bed and open it. I pull out a short dark kimono. I can tell just by the feel of the fabric and the detail of the stitching that someone spend a lot of money on this. I can't imagine my parents doing this. "When did we get this?"

"The Fukui's sent it over as a thank you for saving their daughter."

Not for the first time, my suspicions are aroused. "Did we get her anything?"

"Of course. You have to reciprocate."

"Did you get her a kimono?"

"They wouldn't let us. Too expensive."

"So what did you get her?"

"Just an obi."

I pull the hakama out of the box and all of my doubts fall away. The hakama is either a set of very wide legged trousers or a divided skirt, take your pick. The obi is the decorative sash that goes around the waist of a kimono or yukata. They were also the two most significant gifts exchanged between families during a yuino or engagement party.

I sigh and lower the hakama. I'm not sure I remember how to even put one on.

It's not that I would hate being married to Kioko-chan. She is beautiful, kind, hardworking and always helping others. She is pretty much the ideal girl. Any guy would love to have her as his wife and the mother of his children. It's just, that... I don't know.

I toss the hakama on the bed and take off my trousers.

I'm afraid I'm just going to wake up one day and find myself married and not have any idea of how or when it happened. I'm too young to have to be thinking about this stuff. But when it does happen, I'd prefer it was our idea and not just our parents'.

Mom comes in wearing a yukata as I struggle with the hakama's ties. "You're not dressed yet? We don't want to be late. Let me help you with that."

She's more excited than she has any right to be. She's practically bouncing in the car seat as we drive to the festival, turning back to me and telling stories of the first time she and my dad went to a Tanabata festival while dating. Dad took her first kiss during the fireworks display. It was all very romantic. She said this last part while aiming a knowing smile at me as if she were giving advice.

I'm only a few weeks into my physical therapy, but I refuse to take a crutch. Dad hands me a rather nice wooden walking stick with a circling dragon carved into it to use as a cane.

We all meet outside the festival's gate. "Oh! Michi-kun!" Kioko-chan's mother hurries over, Kioko-chan and her father following some distance behind as if they couldn't keep up with her. Kioko-chan has an excuse as her kimono only allows her to take small steps. I can hear the clack of her wooden geta as she walks toward us.

Kioko-chan's mother leans back to look at me. "You look so distinguished."

I bow. "Thank you for the gift."

She waves away my thank you. "It was nothing." She steps back and spreads her arms as if presenting Kioko-chan to my parents. "And thank you for the lovely obi."

Kioko-chan bows to my parents. "Thank you."

She really is lovely in her colorful kimono. Her mother even fixed hair up with combs in a traditional style-oh crap! The combs, even the little decorative bits dangling from her kanzashi hair decoration look like they're made of sea shells. I'm guessing Abalone. I glance at mom who is looking at Kioko-chan with almost a proprietary smile confirming my suspicions. Naga-noshi, abalone, represents longevity. It's also one of the yuino gifts.

"It was our pleasure," my mother coos.

"Oh! We must have a picture," Kioko-chan's mother says.

I sigh, knowing what is going to come next. My mother has been known to capture innocent, long-suffering passers-by and hold them almost against their will to take just one more picture of the family in an effort to get the perfect composition of form, balance and light.

The mothers shove me and Kioko-chan together, step back and hit us with a fusillade of blinding camera flashes. It takes me several minutes to blink my vision back.

Dad looks at his watch. "How about we all meet back up at the center stage about half an hour before the fireworks start." The others agree.

"What?" I squint in his direction. "We're splitting up?"

"Well, you don't want a bunch of old people slowing you two down, do you?" My mom shoves a white fan in my and Kioko-chan's sash. "Here. It's a warm night. You might need these."

She couldn't have been any more obvious. They're called suehiro and they represent happiness, and yes, they are also bridal presents. Our parents turn to leave, our mother's telling us to have fun with cheery teasing voices.

Dad stops and turns back to us. "Oh. You may need some money for food or games or something." He pulls a white envelope out of his yukata and holds it out to me. I start to lean the walking stick against my waist and reach for it when he holds it back. "Maybe we should let Kioko-chan hold onto it." He hands it to her and then our parents practically run away like a group of teenagers who've pulled a prank and don't want to get caught. Our mothers are looking at each other, fu-fu-ing behind their hands.

Kioko-chan turns the envelope over. It's made of fancy red and white paper and is tied closed with silver and gold thread. The threads are braided in a long elaborate strip that is folded back on itself like a wreath and finished with a complicated decorative knot. It would probably take us all night to disentangle it. Nothing about marriage should be easy to undo. I don't have to open it to know it contains an odd amount of money. Again, like a good marriage, it won't be easily divisible. I look closer at the envelope containing the yuino-kin, or yuino gift money. I see a little wear and fading, especially on the corners of the envelope. These envelopes are often handed down from one generation to the next to ensure good luck. This one was probably given to my mom by my dad's family with her yuino-kin.

I sigh and look at Kioko-chan who looks up at me and blushes. It's got to be obvious what's going on. "Don't worry," I say. "I've got money." We walk into the festival. But if I see a willow cask or a dried cuttlefish or dried bonito or dried kelp, regardless of my leg, I will run.

* * *

I'm still limping by the end of summer, but I refuse to take a cane or a walking stick to school with me when the new term starts. Kioko-chan's mom doesn't want me straining my leg, so she and Kioko-chan pick me up in their car and take us both to school. Our classmates are surprised and excited to see us as we enter our homeroom. Apparently the story has made the rounds and been magnified in the retelling.

Even Kurosawa-san, who had been so skeptical about our dating, wants to hear what happened. "Is it true that you grabbed her and leaped out the window before the crash?" He looks like he's ready to believe it.

"I wish." I shake my head. "We were in the bus when it got hit. I didn't have time to do anything."

"Except grab me." Kioko-chan hugs my arm.

I'm a little shocked at her forwardness. Embarrassed, I look around at the crowd of amazed boys and girls.

"He protected my life with his own body." Kioko-chan turns her smile from me to the girls listening breathlessly around us. "I woke up in his broken arms."

"Awww!" The girls all whine.

I glance at the guys, fearing their looks of disgust, but they look equally amazed. I lower my eyes in embarrassment. I'd almost rather be caught kissing in a storage shed like the vice president did with her gaijin boyfriend.

Everyone wants to talk about it. We don't even notice the bell ringing in the start of homeroom and the beginning of the school day. Takasagi-sensei, our homeroom teacher enters, shouting for everyone to be quiet. "Class representative!"

The class representative repeats his call to be quiet and to go back to our desks. As soon as everyone is seated he tells us to stand up and bow. We bow and greet the teacher, then sit again.

"We are all glad to see you back, Ametsuchi-kun," Takasagi-sensei says. "I'm sure everyone will want to hear your story. I am pleased to announce that I have your final test results and you got the fourth highest score in the class. Well done. It looks like you should break your legs more often."

The class laughs and Takasagi-sensei walks around his desk. "I have another announcement. From now on we will have a new member in our class. A student has transferred in from out of town." He pauses and gestures to the open doorway. "Would you please come in, write your name on the board and introduce yourself?"

A girl walks in, her long black hair flowing out behind her like a cape that falls to just below her waist. She turns and writes three kanji on the board with impeccable precision, then turns to face the class. The entire classroom gasps.

"This is Tamashii Shizuku," she says in a soft voice which still carries to my desk near the back of the room. "Tamashi is spelled with the kanji for soul and Shizuku is spelled with the kanji for quiet and emptiness."

She stops and the classroom remains as quiet as a tomb. No one talks, no one ruffles a paper or shifts in their seat. All eyes are fixed on her.

Her height and her figure are slightly above average, but there is nothing average about her face. The first thing I-or probably anyone-notice about her are her eyes. They are large almond-shaped white ovals framed in long dark lashes. Her Irises are of a brown so dark that it is hard to say where they end and her pupils begin. Her skin is pale and flawlessly smooth. Her nose is slim and straight. Her mouth is small, yet her lips are a full red bow poised above a narrow pointed chin. Her beauty would cause most fashion models to turn away in embarrassment of their own appearance.

"Can you tell us something about yourself?"Takasagi-sensei prompts.

"This is from Izumo," she says in a flat voice as if she were disinterested in the subject.

The teacher pauses, waiting for more information.

Izumo? The name sounds familiar, then I remember I did some research on it as part of a report in junior high. Izumo, though not a very large town, is one of the oldest. It is home to the oldest Shinto shrines in Japan where, it is said the gods gather every October to plan the coming year's births, deaths and marriages.

"Thank you,"Takasagi-sensei says when it becomes clear that Shizuku-san has no more to say.

Shizuku-san bows to the class. "This is in your care."

Takasagi-sensei looks out over the class. "Since Shizuku-san is new, she will need someone to show her around the school. Would anyone like to-"

"Me!"

"Let Me!"

"I'll do it!"

All the boys and about half the girls shout and raise their hands. Some leap up out of their seats, waving to get the teacher's attention. I can see he wasn't prepared for this. I just lean back in my seat and smile.

"This wants him!" Shizuku-san suddenly thrusts her finger in my direction.

"Watanabe-san?"Takasagi-sensei asks, naming the big guy sitting in front of me.

"No. Ametsuchi-san."

Everyone turns shocked and accusing stares at me and I wonder how I had suddenly got dragged into the commotion.

"He has promised to show Tamashii love."