The Art of Learning to Love

5

He looked down at himself, not thinking too much of his chosen outfit. Like he did everyday, he wore something he was comfortable in yet presentable.

"What is wrong with what I am wearing?"

She shook her head, accepting the English menu placed before her with a soft Thanks in Japanese, before turning her attention back to him.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it. You have a nice fashion sense, your look screams I know what I like to wear and what looks good on me."

"So you are saying I am predictable?"
He chuckled when she rolled her eyes and then nodded.

"There's nothing wrong with that. Anyway, we aren't here to discuss your fashion sense or my perceptions of you, not entirely. I-"

"You should walk away, Annabel. I meant it when I said it the first time. I don't think that you understand how dangerous-"

"You really think I don't?! Why haven't I called the police? I watch enough movies, thank you very much. How do you know it's so dangerous?"

"I watch movies too. I read the newspaper. I work in finance, we hear rumors. Things nobody wants to believe are true... If what you believe is true, that Tom is his own sisters himo, nikibi... whatever you want to call it, then he is worse than scum and he will not hesitate to hurt you or anyone who gets in his way. I do not know you, Annabel, but you look like a nice girl, I'm sure you have a family at home, a husband, maybe a child. Think of them."

She shook her head, her lower lip trembling before she blinked back tears. He had subconsciously ordered for both of them when the waitress had approached a few minutes earlier, dismissing the girl with a sharp look when she lingered a second too long. Which left them with more than enough privacy as the tea parlor did not seem to be too busy.

"I'm alone. It's why I care what happens to her!"

Hiroshi frowned, watching her as she managed to look everywhere but at him. She wasn't lying. That much he knew.

"Nobody is completely alone. You must have someone."

"No. I am an only child. My parents died when I was 19. My husband died 2 years ago. I don't know any aunts or uncles or cousins. Megan has really been my only constant in the past 10 years."

He sighed with understanding. He knew that feeling, had dealt with it all his life. But he didn't say anything, watching as the waitress returned with their breakfast, the small smile that Annabel gave the food tugging at his heart strings.

They chatted as they ate, Hiroshi asking her questions about herself and her life, her job and her friends. She had traveled a lot since her husband had died, doing things she'd only dreamt of doing when she planned her future, thinking she'd be too busy with a home and children to take time out to travel.

"I never, in a million years, thought that this would happen to me. That I would be a widow at 27, that I would lose my best friend and my soulmate. But here I am, still standing, breathing, living."

He nodded in agreement, she was a survivor. Smiling as he looked at her plate, she'd eaten everything, had taken one of his fluffy pancakes and had drank enough tea for them both, he was surprised she wasn't in a food coma.

He watched her motion the waitress over and ask for the check in Japanese, the young girl surprised before nodding and hurrying off, seemingly embarrassed at assuming Annabel didn't speak Japanese. But the woman with him didn't seem at all bothered, smiling placidly as she placed the correct amount of money on to the tray, looking up at him once she'd finished.

"Thank you for bringing me here. It was really nice to have a long breakfast and not by myself either. You're not much for conversation but-"

"Have you been to any temples?"
***
He checked his watch discreetly, happily surprised he didn't have any calls from work. He'd taken care of his responsibilities before he'd hit the gym earlier that morning and had told his guys to call him if anything needed his attention.

It was 3:30pm, and he watched Annabel giggle happily at her reflection. She'd somehow conned him into going souvenir shopping, playing up on his pride, using his self proclaimed expertise at negotiations as a battering ram to get him to open up to her.

Which was why they stood, shopping for a kimono. They had stopped for lunch earlier, which he'd insisted on paying for, despite her protests. Hiroshi had watched her eat with pleasure, laughing as she'd inquired about dessert halfway through the meal, innocently.

He discovered she was witty and sarcastic, with a big heart full of love and compassion. She laughed a lot, loved bright colors and intricate patterns, and had an obsession with anything celestially inspired. Not once had he found himself bored in her company. She was intrigued by everything she saw, and despite her penchant for asking questions he found he didn't mind sharing whatever knowledge he had, his voice full of pride for his country.

Hiroshi waited until she'd returned to the dressing room, motioning the owner over to pay for two of the kimonos. She'd tried on 3, had liked all 3 but reasoned she could only take one home, as these were expensive originals sewn by hand and made of silk fabrics.

He didn't know what possessed him to spend a few thousand yen on a woman he didn't know. Nor was he going to bed. But he had more than enough money and he wanted to do something nice for once in his life. He instructed them to keep it a secret before she returned to the front to have her measurements confirmed for the yukata she'd chosen to purchase. It was a more affordable option for her, and she'd chosen a very pretty cotton fabric that went well with her caramel skin.

He led her outside once they'd thanked the owner's, who had promised she could pick up her yukata in 2 days time.

"I've taken up your entire day today Hiroshi! I'm so sorry! Let me buy you dinner to-"

"No. Have a good afternoon."