Nick glanced at his GPS and turned into the driveway that was indicated. He was technically in Beverly Hills, he knew, though it was on the edge of Beverly Hills, and definitely the modest section. He saw Sumire's blue Honda parked in front of a three car garage and pulled in behind it, cutting the engine to his English roadster. Immediately, the air was filled with the sounds of mornings of his youth, of lawn mowers, sprinklers, children, and birdsong. He could hear traffic from Wilshire Boulevard, which was about half a mile away.

Sumire came out on to the balcony of the apartment on top of the garage and waved him up, so he grabbed his stuff and loped up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and let himself in through the front door, which was on the screen.

Sumire's apartment was sort of a cross between a loft and a studio, with one large room that served as a living room, eat-in kitchen, and a sleeping area that was separated by large, floral panels, and a door that presumably led to a bathroom. Nearly every area of wall space was taken up by built-in bookshelves, which were covered by books or framed artwork of some kind. It was an airy, sunny space, at odds with the serious person who inhabited it, Nick thought.

"This is a nice place," he told Sumire, who gestured to the round table in the kitchen area. "Really cheerful."

"Thank you," she answered as she poured them glasses of iced tea. "I was super lucky to find this place so close to school, and for the price, too. The woman who lives in the main house, Mrs. Nishimura, knew one of my teachers, and she wanted a reliable student to help her run errands and help out with her gardening and stuff? So I got a huge break on the rent. She doesn't like a lot of noise, but that's not a problem for me, and we really get along. She doesn't ask me to do much, either. Lucky, like I said."

She turned and set the glasses down as she took a seat herself. "Thanks for agreeing to meet here," she added. "Louie's really feeling the heat, I'm afraid. I think I'm going to have to actually take him in and get him repaired. I checked my paperwork with your agency, and I get my first payment in a month, so if I can make it to the end of June, I'll be okay, you know? "

Nick took a long drink of iced tea. "The end of June?" he repeated. "It doesn't sound like you're going to make it to the end of the week, Purple. I mean, will Louie even get you back and forth to school?"

Sumire smiled slightly at his use of her nickname. "I actually ride my bike when the weather's nice," she responded. "Which in LA, luckily, is most of the year."

"But it's like ninety-five degrees this week!" he protested. "I got hot just driving here! And it's only May!"

"I only have a week of classes left, Nick, stop yelling," she entreated. "I'll be fine. I mean, was it a bother for you to come here today?"

Nick waved a hand. "I was downtown at my manager's office, it was no problem, but that's not the point.

"Look," he continued. "Why don't you let me give you a little advance? Just enough to get Louie repaired?" He kept talking in a rush. "Stop, don't start shaking your head! You can pay me back when you get paid. What? I said I'll let you pay me back!"

"You'll let me pay you back?" she repeated. "Wow, that's really white of you."

"I can't believe you just said that," he gasped with a laugh. "It's so fucking racist.

"I'm allowed, I'm a minority, a person of color," she retorted.

"Please, you're half Japanese, you're hardly repressed," he snorted.

"Says the big, tall, white man."

"Oh brother."

They both drank their iced tea in silence, smiling into their glasses.

"Okay, let's get started, shall we?"

Their scripts came out, and they began the arduous task of memorizing the dialogue phonetically, getting lost in the plot, the dialogue, the world of samurai era Japan.

"Knock knock? Konnichiwa?"

Nick and Sumire looked over toward the screen door, which was being opened by a tiny woman holding a plate of something. She bowed toward the two young people.

"Nishimura-san, what are you doing here?" Sumira asked, rising and walking over to where she stood, looking with undisguised curiosity at Nick.

"Well, I went shopping at Nijiya this morning and they had fresh mochi, look!" She held the plate out and bowed. "So, I went crazy and bought too many, and thought I'd bring you some, if that's okay. And my cousins sent me some osembei, so I thought I'd bring some of those for you also, because they're the kind you like remember, with the nori wrapped around?" She pointed to something else on the plate.

"Of course, of course, and thank you so much," Sumire said, putting an arm around the woman's shoulder. "Why don't you have a seat and have some with us?"

Nick was surprised, because Sumire didn't seem like a social person to him, but she was transformed in front of this little Asian woman with the snowy white hair who hadn't stopped bowing since she'd walked in.

"No, no, I know you're working, Sumire-chan, I know you're teaching this young man Nihongo for the movie, but I wanted you two to have something to nibble on while you were working, you know, something Japanese to inspire you." She smiled hugely, giving another little bow as she handed the plate to Sumire.

She waved to Nick, who had also risen, to sit back down. "Sit, sit, please, keep working, please. Such exciting work." She smiled as she pushed the screen door open, inclining her head one last time. "Sayonara, Nick-san, Sumire-chan, work hard."

And she was gone.

Sumire smiled as she set the plate of goodies down between them.

"That was Mrs. Nishimura," she said with a laugh. "As kind as she is nosy. She wanted to see you so badly." She gestured to the plate. "Consider this her ticket to the show."

"She wanted to see me?" Nick repeated as he dug into the mochi. "Mm, these are fantastic. What are they?"

"Sticky rice, pounded to paste, stuffed with sweetened mung beans," Sumire replied. "And I don't have usually have people over, so she was dying of curiosity. Throw in the fact that you're a boy, and she was all in a lather, you know?"

"But you told her it was for work, right?" he asked, his words made chewy and indistinct from his mouth full of the sticky mochi.

"She's an old lady, do you think she cares?"

Nick washed his food down with a swallow of tea, and asked, "So what's the difference between san and chan? She called you Sumire-chan but me Nick-san? Is it a boy-girl thing? No, right? Because you called her Nishimura-san?"

"No, it's politeness and familiarity," Sumire answered, grabbing a mochi herself. "San is respectful, like for another adult, or someone you don't know very well. Chan is for a child, or someone you're very familiar with, like your cousin or a really good friend, like a term of endearment? There's also sama, which is a term of reverence, for someone exalted, like the emperor or the pope, then there's kun, which is usually only for a little boy."

Nick was staring at Sumire, another mochi half way to his mouth. "Are you kidding me? Just to address people? Before you've even said anything?"

Sumire shrugged. "The Japanese language is all about hierarchy, just like the culture. Americans like to equalize, Japanese like to stratify."

They got back to work, going over dialogue from the movie, getting into the nuance of what was happening, plot-wise, and really forgot the time.

Nick's phone buzzed with an incoming call. He checked who it was and shook his head. "Oh, shit," he said. "I'm sorry, I have to take this, okay?" he said to Sumire. "Hopefully it won't take long."

"Hey, angel, no, sorry, I told you I couldn't make it," he said easily after greeting the caller.

Sumire could kind of hear the caller's side of the conversation, and she could tell that she was getting tearful.

Nick was implacable, however, in saying no to whatever she was suggesting, finally getting a little upset with her.

"Now look, Monique, I told you I wasn't looking for anything serious," he told her.

The caller, presumably Monique, blasted Nick, causing him to hold the phone away from his ear. He shook his head and gave Sumire an apologetic smile.

"No, no, wait a minute, you said that, not me. Don't put words in my mouth."

Again, he waited while Monique unloaded on him.

"Well, I guess all history is revisionist, isn't it?" he replied. "Hey, I've been nothing but honest with you. I didn't blow you off, either. I took this call, I thought we could end things cordially. Please stop calling, okay? Yeah. Yeah. I'm sorry. I have to go. Yes. Bye." He hung up.

"Jesus." He looked at Sumire, who was looking back at him.

"Should I have left?" she asked.

"Nah. I didn't know it would get that ugly. Man, some people just don't get it, you know?" He shook his head again.

"Monique?" Sumire questioned.

"Yeah?" Nick looked at her. "Why?"

Sumire shrugged. "At the very least it must be hard for these women, you know? I mean, when we met it was that singer, right? Meredith? She's a singer, right?" At Nick's nod, she continued. "And since then, there have been at least three others, haven't there? In what, five weeks?" She shrugged again. "You can see how it would be, uh, confusing for them, no?"

"Confusing?" Nick repeated. "Why? I never, ever lie to them. I always tell them, right up front, that I'm not looking for a relationship, I don't want anything long term, I just want something for right now, something fun and easy. What's wrong with that?" He looked indignant. "I've even gotten dressed and left, or had them leave, when they've told me that they want something more. I mean, I can't do anything more than that, can I?"

"I'll paraphrase what I said before," Sumire said. "That's mighty big of you, very kind."

"What?" Nick was really worked up now. "What's the fucking problem?"

"What is it you're looking for, Nick?" Sumire asked, looking at him unblinkingly. "What is it that you can't find, that you keep searching for, in woman after woman?"

"Please, spare me the dime store psycho babble," Nick responded with a sneer. "I mean really, that's rich, coming from the genderless wonder!"

Sumire sat back, eyes wide.

"Lashing out at me doesn't change my question, though, does it?" she replied, taking a drink of her tea. "Think about it. There must be something you want, that you keep looking for every time, don't you think?"

Nick leaned forward, smacking the table with his palm.

"Okay, you know what I'm looking for in all these women? I'll tell you what it is, all right? It's no mystery to me, I know exactly what it is. The thing I want from all these women, that I can't find in any one of them?

"Variety."

He looked at her with a small smile and shrugged his shoulders.

"There you have it. The thing that most men are too chickenshit to admit. I get bored, okay? I get tired of being with the same bodies, the same women." He gestured toward Sumire, where she sat, motionless. "What's your excuse?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You don't respond to men at all," he pointed out. "Why? Are you gay?"

Sumire sat back, eyes narrowed. "Are you kidding me?"

"I only meant that--"

"I know what you meant," Sumire interrupted him. "You meant that I don't respond to you at all."

"That's not what I meant," he said hotly.

Sumire rose. "I think we're through for today. You can go now."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Nick rose without another word and left, letting the screen door close with a bang as he once again took the stairs two at a time on his way down.