“What are you two doing?” Emmy asked, still in her Pink Girl disguise. Jenna and Angela followed her into the suite. After them came Grant and Tiny, rapidly filling the suite’s living room with people.

“Oh, hey!” Andy said, looking up from the floor.

“Why are you two half naked?” Emmy asked.

“Sit-up contest,” I said from my spot on the floor near Andy.

“Of course- because that’s exactly what it looks like,” Jenna said with a laugh.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Grant said, setting down his load of shopping bags on the counter and indicating to Tiny that he should do the same.

“How many sit-ups have you done?” Angela asked after the two guys left.

“We were up to seventy-two,” Andy said.

“Only seventy-two? Is that all?” Angela demanded, her hands on her hips.

“Well, we did just do a ton of pushups,” I said.

“And drank a lot,” Andy added.

Emmy smiled in amusement as Jenna shook her head in mock disappointment.

“Can’t leave you two alone for even a minute,” Jenna said.

Giving up on the sit-ups, I stood and kissed Emmy and Angela. “How was shopping?” I asked. “I thought you guys would’ve bought a lot more than just that,” I said, indicating the heap of shopping bags on the table, getting a laugh from Jenna.

“Oh, no, we bought a lot more,” Emmy said, and Angela agreed. “The hotel staff is loading the rest into large boxes to be shipped back to Los Angeles with all the touring equipment.”

“That makes sense,” I admitted. “How large a box are we talking?”

“Large,” Angela said, emphasizing the word. “Boxes,” she added.

“What did I tell you?” Andy asked me, and all I could do was groan in dismay.

We all had dinner at the top floor restaurant that night, since the girls were in no mood to go back out again. At first it seemed strange to have Italian food in Tokyo, but then, why not in Tokyo? We have Italian food in Los Angeles, after all, and that isn’t any more Italy than Tokyo is, right?

Jenna, Angela and Emmy talked about their day shopping, sharing stories of the many shops in Kappa-something Town, which wasn’t really a town at all, but just one street. They talked about the colorful carved wooden bowls, the shop that had the largest selection of different kinds of kitchen knives they’d ever seen, and so on. I’ll admit that I was still feeling a bit buzzed from all the alcohol that Andy and I had consumed over the course of the day so I had a hard time paying much attention, but that didn’t seem to matter at all. Andy and I weren’t really all that necessary as far as the conversation went, so the two of us just asked questions every now and then or made vague approval noises, and that was good enough.

Soaking in the tub with Emmy that night while Angela (who had lost our Rochambeau contest) took her shower, I found myself holding her tight and kissing her behind her ear.

“I’m glad you guys had a good time today,” I said.

“It seems as if you and Andy did, too,” Emmy replied, angling her head to give me better access.

“We did,” I agreed. “We went to the old imperial palace gardens and saw all the ancient fortifications, and that was cool. Then we just sort of wandered around off the beaten path, you know?”

“Have I told you how happy it makes me to see you and Andy getting along so well? After hearing about how you were such good friends when you were kids, but then drifting apart… Now you are back to really good friends, and that is… I am just very glad you have somebody like him,” Emmy said, laying her head back on my shoulder.

“I am, too,” I admitted. “It sounds stupid, but I hadn’t realized how much I missed him, you know?”

Emmy sat up and turned around in the tub to face me. She took my hands in hers and held them up to her lips, kissing them several times.

“Leah,” she said. “Angela and I love you, you know that. We love you so much it hurts sometimes. But we know that we cannot be everything for you. You need Andy. You need Donny, and your driving friends. Angela and I, we like it when you spend time with your friends. Do not ever feel guilty about taking time away from us. Never feel guilty.”

“Thanks,” I said, and I could feel tears welling up. I don’t know what I did to deserve such love, but I was grateful to whatever fate had decided to put this beautiful woman in my life.

I fell asleep quickly that night, sleeping in the middle for once. Emmy and Angela were snuggled up on either side, making me a little too warm, but I wouldn’t trade the feeling away for anything.

Stephanie had arranged a Mt Fuji tour for the next day, so eighteen of us piled into a bus first thing in the morning for the drive. We’d been warned there was hiking to do, so we all had comfortable shoes and clothes appropriate for the cool and rainy weather. Our tour guide warned us that the views might not be great because of low clouds, but nobody bowed out because of that.

When the bus got moving the guide announced it was going to be a two and a half hour drive, which prompted some groans, but it didn’t take long for Jackson to rope Lee and Emmy (and a couple of the touring musicians) into a sing-along.

Soon enough phones began to appear to record the proceedings, but of course that didn’t bother any of the band at all. After posting the a cappella version of ‘Money Can’ to her social media, Angela leaned against my side with a sigh.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Hey, babe,” I said, resting my hand on her leg. “You doing O.K.?”

“Yeah, I am,” she replied.

“So what’s up?”

“Well, you know I, um, came out on my socials when we were in Singapore, right?” Angela asked. “I posted that I was in love with you and Em- remember that?”

“Of course,” I replied. “I was really proud of you. You know that.”

“I know,” she agreed. “And mostly, people have been good. Sure, a few post some negative stuff about me, and you and Em, but those posts mostly get drowned by other replies calling them out for being homophobic assholes, so I don’t let them get to me.”

“So what’s bothering you?”

“I really hate it when people accuse me of… of just being with you guys for the money. Like my post from yesterday about shopping on Kappabashi. All I did was post some pictures of a few of the shops, and one of me with a bunch of shopping bags, and a little reel of Em, Jenna and me walking down the street. Just simple stuff, you know? But a bunch of comments said that I would never be able to travel and spend money like I do without Emmy’s money. Like I’m somehow taking advantage of her,” Angela said, her shoulders slumping.

“You know who doesn’t think that?” I asked her.

“Who?”

“Everyone who actually knows you and cares for you,” I told her. “And I don’t just mean Em and me. Do you think Jenna or Andy believes you’re with us for the money? Or your parents?”

“No, I know they don’t,” Angela admitted.

“How about the Saturday crew? Or the Porsche club folks?” I asked.

“I don’t know, maybe some of the guys in the Porsche club do, but I don’t think any of the driving guys do,” Angela said.

“The driving guys- they all love you,” I said. “But you know what? Everybody that actually knows you does love you. Those are the people who actually matter, babe. None of those assholes online matter in any way at all.”

Angela squeezed my hand. “Thanks,” she said. There was nothing else for me to say, so I just held her, hoping she could feel the love I was feeling for her.

The bus finally arrived at our destination, a collection of cafes, gift shops and the like at the trailhead.

There was only one other bus in the parking lot, no doubt a result of the inclement weather. We wandered around the nearly empty tourist area, then out to a viewing platform. I’m sure it would have been amazing- if we could have actually seen anything besides drizzle and clouds.

The Shinto shrine was beautiful, and pretty much deserted except for a few of us from our tour. We took some photos, enjoying the stillness of the place.

Wandering around, I was pleased to see the signage was in English as well as Japanese. The map indicated it was a serious hike to the top of the volcano- clearly not on the agenda for that day, but something I’d like to do at some point in the future. ‘On a nice, sunny day’, I promised myself.

Eventually we all piled back into the bus for the forty-five minute drive to a pretty little lake where we had lunch at a restaurant that made a point of traditional Japanese food. They seemed appalled when I asked to have non-seafood dishes, but the udon with fried tofu was excellent, so I had no complaints.

After lunch we boarded a fake Western-style pirate ship for a scenic cruise around the lake. Thankfully the weather had cleared up by this time and we got the great views of the mountain we hadn’t been able to see when we were actually halfway up the slope.

The lakeshore was dotted with those Shinto temple gate things. Except for them and a few other scattered structures, the lake was surrounded by forests covering the slopes of the hills forming the lake valley. It amazed me that a small country with a high population density like Japan could still have such open, undeveloped spaces, and I was very glad that it did.

After the cruise we rode a gondola up a tramway (they called it a ‘ropeway’) to a viewing station on top of the largest peak next to the lake. From on top we could see the lake, the hills, and the ocean off in the distance. Facing the other way we got to see Mt Fuji in all its conical glory, the top still covered in snow. It was pretty, but to be honest, not enough to justify the pain in the ass of having built the tramway to begin with.

We were looking down at the lake when my phone rang, to my surprise. The caller ID showed a Japanese phone number, so I answered it.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Hello,” came the man’s voice. “This is- we met two days ago in your hotel. My grandfather and I came to speak with Emmy Lascaux.”

“I remember. I also remember that we never exchanged names. My name is Leah, Farmer is my family name,” I said, turning away from the wind to make talking easier.

“I am Oshida. My grandfather is Oshida Touki, and my name is Oshida Hayate.”

“Pleased to officially meet you, Mr Oshida,” I said.

“The honor is mine, Mrs Farmer,” he replied.

“How may I help you?” I asked.

“Our council has discussed… They have discussed your position and desire to speak, and agree to meet. They have many questions.”

“I do, too,” I replied. “I’ve given it some thought, too, and I think we may have much to offer each other.”

“The council feels that may be the case,” Hayate replied. “They think that there may be… opportunities.”

“Are they still located in Iga Province?” I asked, taking a gamble.

Hayate paused a bit longer than one might expect before replying, the line going quiet enough that I was sure I’d been put on mute. “The council’s representatives would be willing to meet you in Tokyo,” he finally said.

“That makes life easy for me, but I will admit that I’m curious about how you’ve maintained your identity for so long. I imagine it’s similar to the way Night Children do in Europe, by secluding themselves in small, isolated villages and living fairly traditional lifestyles. Those who choose to live in cities do so by hiding their nature, as you and your grandfather did when you came to my hotel.”

“I think we will have a lot to speak about,” Hayate said, after absorbing my words.

“We leave Japan in three days,” I said. “So this meeting will need to happen soon.”

After a long pause on mute, Hayate said, “Saturday night would be acceptable.”

“How many people will you bring?” I asked. “I will bring two others.”

“Four members of the council and myself,” he replied.

“Alright. I’ll reserve us a private dining room at my hotel for the eight of us,” I said. “Will eight o’clock work for you?”

After a long muted pause, Hayate said, “That is acceptable.”

“Tell the concierge you’re there for dinner with the Farmer party. I’ll arrange everything.”

“This is acceptable,” Hayate said.

“I’ll see you then,” I agreed. We said goodbye and hung up.

“Well, it looks as if I have my meeting with the local Night Children after all,” I told Emmy.

“Saturday night?” she asked. “I will not be able to attend.”

“I didn’t want you there anyway,” I told her. “It could be dangerous, and I don’t want you anywhere near the pointy end of anybody’s knife.”

“You said you would bring two others,” Emmy objected. “If not me, then who will you bring?”

“Tiny and Andy,” I replied. “Tiny, because he’s obviously a Night Child and is also obviously my guy, and Andy to act as a translator.”

“Andy is O.K. with this?” Emmy asked, concerned.

“I’m pretty sure he will be,” I replied.

On the bus ride back to the hotel I dragged Andy back to the rear of the bus, away from everybody else.

“Hey, the shinobi called me. They want to talk. We’re gonna have dinner on Saturday night. I’d really appreciate it if you could be there,” I told him in a low voice when we sat down.

“Dude, there are all kinds of ways this sounds like a bad idea,” Andy said.

“Aren’t the Japanese supposed to be big on honor? Wouldn’t a… meeting to talk be some sort of safe ground for all parties?” I asked.

“Um, a big complaint the samurai had about the shinobi, and also why they hired ‘em, is because they were, as they said, ‘without honor’. Of course, that was the noble class trash-talking commoners, so take it for what you will, but that was the slam.”

“Fair enough, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “But it’s going to be in a somewhat public place, so there’s not much they can do.”

“What public place?” Andy asked.

“The restaurant at our hotel. I wanted a place they’d be unable to game, you know? I figured a private room at our hotel’s restaurant would be perfect,” I said.

“They have some sort of way in,” Andy cautioned. “They did find out your room number, and I’m sure that isn’t something the front desk volunteers.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “But bribing a desk clerk or maid is different than planting agents in the hotel security staff.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Andy admitted.