I feel like I'm going to throw up. My face is hot. I'm sweating and my whole body trembles like I have a high fever. Before me stands Fukui Kyoko. Fukui the beautiful, Fukui the kind, Fukui the girl who has haunted my every thought for the last three years. I wipe my sweaty hands on my pants and struggle to take a breath as I walk toward her.

I've watched her throughout all of junior high school. I even talked to her on rare occasions and we seemed to get along. For three years I dreamed of telling her my feelings, but every time I had gathered the courage to do so, I would hear of another guy who had confessed his feelings to her and asked her to be his girlfriend. Every time she said no. She said she had feelings for someone else. This happened over and over again until the whole school wondered who this mysterious person was. Gossip ran wild. If it weren't for the fact that she was admired by the whole school, the rumors could have gotten ugly. We never did find out who this guy—or girl—was, not even at graduation.

I tried to forget about her after graduation. But then on the first day of high school, I found that not only had we gone to the same high school, she was in my class. I admit that I stared at the back of her head throughout that first morning. I watched her wavy auburn hair brush back and forth across her shoulders as she bent over her books, or sat up to watch the teacher, or turned to talk to the girls sitting to either side... I wondered if she still liked that mysterious person from junior high, or if that had all ended now that she was in a new school. If that were the case and I were to ever confess to her, I should do it soon, before the other guys could swoop in. Sure the very idea was embarrassing, but after three years of regret,I wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

I think some of her friends noticed me watching her. At the start of lunch break, as I got up to get a drink from the vending machines, I passed by her desk. She had pushed her desk together with Himura's and Shimura's, making a table to eat at. Both of her friends watched me with curious expressions. Shimura tapped on Fukui's desk to get her attention. Fukui looked up, followed her gaze to me, and stopped my feet with a smile.

"Hello, Ametsuchi-san," she said.

"Hi, Fukui-san." I stood there silently, my thoughts too scatter to say anything further.

"I'm glad we're in class together this year."

Fukui's smile grew even brighter and my breath caught in my throat. I cleared it to reply. "Yes. Me too." I smiled nervously at the three girl's, my brain having locked up. I suddenly couldn't remember what I had wanted to say or why I had stopped in the first place. Wasn't I going to go get a drink?

"Did Ametsuchi-kun want to say something to Kyoko-chan?" Himura suggested, her gaze darting back and forth between us as we smiled awkwardly at each other.

"Ah! Yes. I had something I wanted to ask you," I managed.

Fukui looked at me expectantly. "OK."

Shimura watched with curiosity. Himura's eyes narrowed.

"Not here, though," I said. There's no way I could say anything like that in front of them.

"OK..." Fukui looked puzzled.

"After school?" I suggested. Wasn't that when these sorts of things were done? At least if she rejected me, I wouldn't have to endure the rest of the day with her and her friends staring at me.

Fukui cocked her head sideways. "Where shall we meet?"

"Um." I hadn't thought this out. I hadn't even planned on talking to her today except that the opportunity had suddenly presented itself. I stared out the window trying to think of a place where we could be alone.

"Outside?" Himura suggested. "Perhaps by the tennis courts?"

It was the perfect place. Behind the gym, the school had no windows facing that direction. Since clubs hadn't started, the tennis courts should be empty--at least there shouldn't be any first-years who might recognize us. "Yes." I grinned in relief.

Fukui's eyebrows rose, then she ducked her head, hiding her eyes behind her fringe of hair. She must have remembered at the same moment I did, that that particular spot had a notorious reputation as the place where boys and girls did kokuhaku or confessed their love to each other. I looked up at Himura, feeling betrayed. Shock and glee fought for control of Himura's and Shimura's open mouths. Had I accidentally confessed to her in public by implication?

"O-O-OK." Fukui kept her head down, her face glowing red with embarrassment.

Himura and Shimura turned surprised expressions on her.

"I'll s-see you then," I stammer and fled the room. I ate lunch alone in the small area we call the cafeteria then spent the rest of the day cowering in my seat. Every now and then I would sneak a look at Fukui but she spent the rest of the day staring down at her desk. Himura and Shimura kept looking my way and exchanging whispers. Occasionally they would try to talk to Fukui but she didn't respond.

Whenschool ended we had osoji and stayed to clean.I volunteeredfortrash duty, fleeingthe room with bags of trash, andtook my time walking to the incinerator and back. The girls had leftby the time I returned so I grabbed my things and, with much fear andtrembling, headed toward the tennis courts.

* * *

I feel breathless as if I had just run the length of the school grounds rather than walked slowly around the building in fear. I can't believe Fukui actually came. She must suspect why I called her out here. If she was going to say no it would have been kinder of her to refuse to come, but she is honest enough that if she were going to refuse me, she'd find a way to say it directly to me. She is also kind enough to do it somewhere private to spare me the embarrassment.

"I'm s-s-sorry I made you wait." My voice shakes. "Were you waiting long?"

"No." She sounds nervous herself. I suppose turning people down is not something one ever gets used to. "I-I just got here."

I scratch the back of my head nervously. "Thanks for coming out."

"It's not a problem."

She stares down at her feet, flicking up an occasional glance as if making sure I'm still here. I must be making her feel terrible. Guilt and shame battle for control within me, but terror wins out.

I take a big breath--what's happening to the air and why does it seem so thin? My heart pounds against my ribs like a bird killing itself against the bars of its cage trying to escape. I decide the whole thing is a mistake. I should never have asked her out here. I want to tell her the whole thing was a joke, but I couldn't hurt her feelings. I'll just have to get this over with as quickly as possible, like jerking off a bandage. I can only hope my pain will fade as quickly.

"I know a lot of guys have asked you out..."

At those words, Fukui seems to almost shrink into herself. She must know what is coming next. Her head somehow bows lower, her shoulders tense up and she trembles slightly.

"...and I know you've always turned them down because you had someone you liked..." I listen in shock to the words coming out of my mouth, feeling as if I'm standing somewhere outside my own body. I think, if my soul could flee, it would have. People do die from fear, right?

"...but I thought...now that we're in high school...your feelings might have changed..."

Fukui shakes her head and the bottom drops out of my stomach. I should have known. Any girl who could reject as many guys as she did, for a guy who wasn't even her boyfriend yet, wouldn't be so fickle as to change her mind just because she was going to a new school. It really had been hopeless after all.

I feel like a fool. I try to take comfort in knowing that I've only joined the long list of guys she's rejected, but I still feel like an idiot. Baka! Baka! Baka!

I press on, not knowing what else to do, my mouth moving while my brain spins uselessly trying to catch up. "Ah. So. Well, then, I just wanted to say that I've watched Fukui-san for three years now and I really like you. If your feelings weren't already for someone else, I would have asked if we could go out."

"OK."

My brain and heart skip a beat. "What?"

"We can go out."

"But I thought you had feelings for someone else?" That last sentence came out as a wheeze because I had forgotten to breathe.

"No."

"But...that means...all this time...that person was..."

She peeks up at me, her face the darkest red I've ever seen. "My Michi."

A sharp pain stabs my chest. I'm pretty sure my heart skips a couple of beats and I coughed as if to start it again. My Michi! My first name--and without an honorific. Only my mother or grandmother call me that.

I stagger back, my legs suddenly weak. I catch myself before I fall. She likes me. She admitted she likes me and I told her that I liked her. We are basically a couple now, but the idea is so impossible I have to make sure. "W-w-will you be my girlfriend?"

Fukui starts to duck her head, then seems to force herself to look up at me. "Yes." Her blush darkens until it is almost purple.

My head spins. I'm totally lost. I hadn't planned on asking her so soon and hadn't considered what would happen if she had said yes. I feel like I've just climbed an unclimbable mountain. What am I supposed to do next? What do boyfriends and girlfriends do?

We stand, silently blushing and staring at each other, listening to our schoolmates laughing and calling out to each other as they leave the school. I get an idea. "May I walk you home?"

Fukui smiles and nods. We toward the school's front gate. It is the start of the school year and the main walkway is lined with cherry trees so of course, the sakura are in full bloom. The branches sway overhead in the light breeze showering us with hundreds of pink, heart-shaped, flower petals.

I don't know, maybe it's because none of this seems real, or maybe I suddenly feel bold, or maybe deep down inside I want to shout to the world that I'm dating Fukui, but I lean my head toward hers. "May I carry your book bag?"

The blush that had started to fade returns, but she hands me her bag. We walk across the school grounds toward the main gate and it's as if we were waving a giant flag emblazoned with the words "Hey! We're dating now!"

Heads turn toward us from every direction. We pass a group of first-year boys watching us and not bothering to hide their curiosity.

"Hey, is that Fukui-san?"

"It is!"

"Is she dating someone?"

"No way."

"I heard she was engaged to a pop idol."

"Well, I heard she was secretly married and that was the reason she won't talk to any of the guys at school."

"So who is that guy she's with?"

We keep our heads down and continue walking. Her house is a fifteen-minute walk from school in the opposite direction from my home. We stop on the sidewalk in front of her house.

"Thank you for walking me home," she says.

"May I do it again tomorrow?"

"Yes."

She bows, her hands clasped together before her. "I am in your care."

I bow in return. "And I am in your care." I hand Fukui's book bag to her and watch her leave, waving to her as she closes the door. A curtain moves and I see a small face disappear from a window. I think I remember she had a little brother who could tax even her great patience and I worry about what he may have seen. Even so, I feel like I'm floating as I start for home, but I still take the bus.

***

Author's note:

I realized I should probably explain Michi's behavior to those who might not be as familiar with certain aspects of Japanese culture. 

To understand it,  take a child and raise him in a culture that teaches him from birth to suppress his personal wants and desires for the good of the group and, above all, to not stand out or draw attention to himself, add to that the belief that it is rude or at least very crude to explicitly express certain strong emotions like love rather than simply "read the atmosphere," then give him a naturally ambiguous language where what is not said can be more important than what is said (and the most common word for love also simply translates as "like"), and then multiply that normal  teenage insecurity and anxiety by 1,000 (maybe even "over 9,000").

Thus the need for a kokuhaku or "confession." Before any romantic relationship can truly begin, there must be an explicit expression of feelings. Regular readers of Japanese manga or watchers of anime have probably already noticed this. Now you know why.