My mom asks if I am feeling well at dinner because I seem to be acting strangely. She worries that I may be getting sick. I assure her I'm feeling fine, but I barely sleep at night. I'm out of bed and in my school uniform before my alarm can sound its second beep. I race to school. I'll see Fukui again. I'm dating Fukui Kyoko! The guy she liked all along is me! Part of me is disappointed that we waited three years admiring each other from afar and not saying anything, but the rest of me is too excited to listen.

News of our dating has reached our classroom before me.

"Hey! Ametsuchi-san!" Kurosawa calls out from across the room where he and his friends are laughing together. His short bleach-blond hair is technically a violation of school policy since it is an unnatural color for Japanese and is associated with punks and troublemakers. He claims to have some non-Japanese ancestry and since he is a good student and athlete, nobody challenges him. Though he may be popular with the teachers and the girls, I think his pointed nose and narrow chin makes him look like a ferret.

"Someone says they saw you walking Fukui-san home yesterday. Are you going out with Fukui-san?" His tone is sarcastic. He knows that is impossible.

I smile as I reply. "Yes."

The whole classroom sucks in a breath of air at the same time. "Eh?"

"No way."

"Liar!"

Himura and Shimura watch me with crooked smiles. They don't seem surprised.

"How did you trick her?" one of Kurosawa's friend Yamazuki demands.

"I just asked her and she said yes."

"She doesn't date anyone," another guy insists. "She's in love with some guy who's dying from cancer."

"I heard he died in a motorcycle accident and she's still grieving for him," the next guy says.

"Apparently, I was that other guy." I try to keep the pride out of my voice as I say it. I actually can't quite believe it's true.

"Fukui-san, are you really dating him?" Kurosawa calls out over my shoulder.

I turn around to see a startled Fukui standing in the doorway. "Ohaio," she mutters, ducking her head and stepping into the room. She looks up and nods to him.

"Really!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Why him?"

I admit I'm curious about the answer to that last question. I may not be especially ugly, but I'm definitely not one of the beautiful people. On my very best day I might rate a B-. Not too embarrassing, but nothing to brag about. Fukui, on the other hand, may not be the school's idol, but she easily walks in the same company with her.

Himura and Shimura lean in with predatory smiles as Fukui sits at her desk. "We really want to know why too," Shimura says.

"Yeah," Himura adds. "When did you start liking him?"

Fukui keeps her head down and blushes, but she surprises us all with an answer. "It was our first year of junior high, during open house. A young child got lost and he calmed her and took care of her and helped her find her mother."

I did that? I tried to recall that first year, and the open house, and remembered I had been stuck on safety patrol. That mostly consisted of welcoming people to the school and pointing them to the entrance. In theory, I was also supposed to make sure people obeyed the nearby traffic light when crossing the street, but I never knew how I was supposed to enforce that. Then I remembered the lost little girl. Her crying had annoyed me as I tried to get a name out of her, but I did manage to get it and hand her over to a teacher who called for her parents over the public address system.

Himura and Shimura give me evaluating looks. The boy's faces display varying degrees of puzzlement and disgust.

"Then there was the time you stopped those boys from bullying Masami-chan."

"Ah, yes." I remember that one. I didn't like the way the boys had bullied her but I mostly got tired of hearing their noisy endless taunts. "You became friends with her, didn't you? You helped her fit into the class."

Fukui smiles and nods. "I thought of it as a way to be closer to you."

We stare at each other in wonder. I'm wondering how she could have watched me so closely for three years and yet I didn't notice while watching her.

"That's so gay," one of the boys says.

"He's a wimp. She must like wimps."

"Who'd have thought that was the type of guy she was looking for?"

"More like a girl than a guy..."

The boys lose interest in us and turn away. Fukui smiles at me almost apologetically. I don't care. Nothing could ruin my mood.

* * *

The girls push their desks together at lunch. Shimura catches my attention. "Come sit with us," She has large heavy-lidded eyes that appear to know secrets that others don't. Her full thick hair falls just below her shoulders and, along with her makeup, is always carefully styled. She gives off a mature and worldly air and there are rumors that she was quite experienced with the boys in her junior high before becoming bored with them. She is said to be dating a university student, though she never talks about her love life.

"Yeah, come eat lunch with your girlfriend." Himura joins in, smirking. Himura is just the opposite of Shimura. With big hands and big feet. She even has big breasts though she seems skinny because she is so tall. A star basketball player, she is rumored to have a temper and to have beaten up as many boys in junior high as Shimura has supposedly slept with. It doesn't help that she tends to speak in a male register so that she comes across as rough and aggressive like a boy or a lesbian.

Fukui smiles hopefully at me and I can't refuse. My face burns and all the guys watch me as I move my desk next to theirs. We open our bentos, or lunch boxes, and say "Itadakimasu" to express our thanks for the food.

Shimura looks at my bento of rice and leftover fried chicken and some apple slices. "Did you make your bento?"

"No. My mom made it, but she's really busy so I usually eat a pre-packaged bento."

"That's no good," Himura chimes in. "You need to eat healthily. Kyoko-chan is depending on you now."

I peer at Fukui,blushing. She's quietly eating a carefully packed bento of rice sprinkled with furikake, some grilled salmon and little colorful servings of steamed vegetables and fruits.

"Did your mom make that?" Shimura asks Fukui.

Fukui shakes her head and swallows. She covers her mouth as she speaks. "I made it."

Himura tosses a smile to Shimura. "Then perhaps you can help Ametsuchi-kun's mother out and make a bento for him from now on."

Fukui shoots a surprised glance my way and looks back.

"No," I say. "You don't have to do that."

Fukui nods. "I can do that."

"Really," I insist. "I don't want to cause you trouble."

Fukui shakes her head. "I want to do it."

I don't know what to say. I look around wishing I could sneak away. Everyone is watching and listing to us, snickering. My embarrassment grows. It feels like we're putting on a show for them.  Are Himura and Shimura trying to turn us into one of those stupid-in-love couples that are so embarrassing to watch? I nod in surrender.

Himura puts her elbows on the desk and leans forward, trying to look us both in the eyes. Fukui and I keep our heads bowed. "So have you made plans for your first date yet?"

Fukui and I exchange startled glances and shake our heads. We only discovered our mutual feelings yesterday afternoon!

"Well you're dating now," Shimura says sweetly. "You should actually go on a date."

Our heads still bowed, Fukui and I slip each other frightened looks. I think if we had dared we would both have run away.

"An amusement park!" Himura decides.

"Isn't that a bit much for a first date?" Shimura says. "They should start with something simple and work up to that."

"Oh, OK. But they must have a meal together."

"Absolutely."

"A movie?" Himura suggests.

Shimura looks skeptical. "They should do something where they can still talk to each other."

Himura frowns and says uncertainly. "Shopping?"

Shimura shakes her head. "This is going to be hard enough on Ametsuchi-kun as it is. You have to think of him too."

"Well, you suggest something." Himura folds her arms and scowls at Shimura. "I can't do all the work."

"OK." Shimura leans back in her chair and stares up at the ceiling and slowly turns to look out the window.

I remember my lunch and take a bite. I have no idea why we're letting them decide things for us. It's not like they're the ones that are going to—

"Hanami!" Shimura shouts, startling the class.

"Oh! That's perfect!" Himura says

Shimura turns on us. "You can both go sakura viewing this weekend since we don't have school this Saturday."

Fukui's eyes light up. I can tell she's excited.

"It's nearly mid-April so the trees have already hit peak bloom and the crowds have begun to die down," Himura suggests as if she still has to sell us on the idea.

I tell Fukui. "I do know a nice big park in Tokyo that has lots of cherry trees. Our family sometimes goes there. I can take you."

Fukui beams at me. "And I can pack a bento and we can have a picnic."

Himura claps her hands together and rubs them vigorously. "Oh, this is so exciting. We're going to have such fun!"

Shimura looks at her. "We?"

Himura waves her hand at us. "You two. I meant you two are going to have such fun."

* * *

The remaining days pass in a blur. A rumor spreads through the school that the student council vice president has started dating a foreigner who goes to our school and shamelessly kissed him in public on school grounds. Suddenly Fukui and I are old news and most people leave us alone, not that it stops Himura and Shimura from continuing to plan our date.

We meet outside the bus station early Saturday morning. Fukui is wearing a light sundress of bright yellow, a pink top and a white wide-brimmed hat. She is easily ten times cuter than in her school uniform. It almost feels like she is someone else. Fukui holds a shopping bag in both hands which I assume contains our bento. She smiles and waves to me and hurries over.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

"Don't worry. I didn't wait long. I just had time to buy our tickets." I show them to her.

She reaches for a handbag hanging on one elbow. "Oh, let me pay for mine."

"Don't be ridiculous. We're boyfriend and girlfriend now," I try to say it casually but the novelty of those words tangle my tongue. "It's my job to take care of you."

Fukui grins happily and bows. "Then I am in your care."

"Besides, I already feel bad that you're paying for lunch."

Fukui glances down at her shopping bag. "It's only a bento."

"And I'm sure it will be wonderful." I smile and try to look reliable.

Despite the good start, things grow awkwardly silent as we wait for our bus. I search my limited--meaning zero--knowledge of dating for a topic to discuss. In desperation, I even try to dig up some of the unwanted advice Himura kept tossing at us. Eventually, the bus arrives.

We board and are soon on our way. We don't talk at all as we pass through town, then Fukui offers a casual observation and mentions her mother. I ask about her family. She asks about mine and soon the floodgates of conversation open and we sit laughing and chatting all the way to the reservoir near the park. Time passes quickly.

I remember what I thought must be her brother peering at us through her living room window the first day I walked her home. I start to ask her if he had said anything to her parents and whether they know about me yet or not. "You know, Fukui-san—"

Fukui giggles. "You don't have to speak to me so formally. We are boyfriend and girlfriend, you know."

"Ah, yes."

"You should call me by my first name from now on."

I smile awkwardly and scratch at the back of my head. Everything seems to be progressing so rapidly. How can I be so frightened and so excited at the same time? "OK. Then you have to call me by my first name."

"Say it."

"What?"

Fukui leans forward smiling. I notice she's wearing a light shade of lipstick that is somewhere between pink and red. Her lips glisten frighteningly close to mine and I really want to kiss her right now. Is that what she wants, or is she teasing me?

"Say my name," she says. "I want to hear the sound of it in your mouth."

I take a nervous breath. "Kyo—"

A few women in the back see it first. They barely have time to scream. Their thin screams sound more like cries of surprise than terror. No one has time to turn around and see what it's about because everything happens so fast. I'm staring into Kyoko's upturned face. I only see it begin out of the corner of my eye, but it doesn't register in my mind.

The semi in the oncoming lane swerves to avoid a car and slams into a broken down truck on the shoulder by the median barrier. The semi's cab wedges between the truck and the concrete barricade flipping its trailer up into the air. A mountain of steel and aluminum rises up just outside our window.

Kyoko is smiling up at me waiting to hear her name. The light reflected from the reservoir below sparkles in her eyes like stars. She is the very soul of pure innocent joy and why not? We're both young. We're both in love, and we have our whole futures ahead of us.

Outside our window, everything grows dark as if a cloud is passing over the sun. I know what's coming but I don't even have time to flinch. Somehow, impossibly, the tractor trailer doesn't come down on top of us but crushes two cars in the next lane, bounces, and slams into the side of the bus.

The side of the bus slams into Kyoko. Her hair flies forward in a spray of splintered glass. Inertia smashes me into her other side and the bus and I crush her between us until I am thrust in the opposite direction. The bus rocks up on its wheels on one side and somehow, like a stunt-driver, the bus driver manages to keep it from tipping over.

One second, two seconds...I'm sliding off my seat into the aisle, Kyoko's limp body flopping against me. I feel the tipping point as the bus goes over. We don't even notice the guardrail as we smash through it, then suddenly we are weightless.

The sun, the sky, the blue reservoir, the green slope of the ravine bordering it all spin around us. The passengers float out of their seats. Shopping bags with picnic supplies and tourist trinkets spray their contents upwards in slow motion.

The bus hits the steep embankment with the sound of worlds colliding and rolls downhill, accelerating. The chrome handrails and seat backs suddenly spin around me in a blur like the blades of a blender and blood sprays everywhere, blinding me. But, fortunately, darkness claims me.