“Do you
want to go to the ramen shop again?” June asked, blotting dirt off of a
photograph. “It was really fun last time, except when you drank too much and we
almost rode into a cat on the way back,” she chuckled until she realized there
was no response. “Mina-chan?” She
turned around on her bed.
Mina was
rummaging through her closet. When she re-emerged she had something red
clutched in her hand. “Sumimasen,
but, could take care of dinner by yourself today?” Abruptly, she opened the
bedroom door, left, and slid it closed behind her.
June stared
at where Mina was a second before. That was hardly an apology; more like a
command, June could feel a catch in her throat. The Japanese really use sumimasen, “sorry”, much too liberally.
She pulled herself together by
rationalizing that she, too had things to do and so it was really okay not go
to out anywhere today, to eat dinner alone.
The last few days had been the
same—Mina seemed to leave the house at every opportunity. June knew why, Mina’s
savior was here.
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