i was grateful that Kohaku was japanese

because him and Otousan easily spoke to each other

in their mother tongue.

Otousan was surprisingly happy to meet another friend of mine

and welcomed him eagerly into our little house.

Kohaku and i sat on my bed

as we waited for supper.

the stars were still there

waiting upon us.

i almost wanted to reach out to them

to take me back to the other night

so i could change the words i had spoken.

Kohaku was strangely quiet.

“i don’t think she hates you,” he said

giving my shoulder a gentle nudge.

“if anything, she probably regrets what she said.”

i doubt it.

but i just nodded.

“hey, you want to do something on friday?” he asked.

“like what?”

“there’s a summer market happening downtown.”

“sure. will she-”

“just us,” he smiled. “i want to get to know my friend.”