Chapter six (segment five), 2016, September, Yukio

“And they're quite angry with us now,” Kyoko said.

Yukio looked at her. “Why?”

“Well, the cafés all went to the second and third years, and 4:2 got the haunted house.”

He shrugged. “Same here,” he said. “Class was a bit miffed about the café.”

“But you at least got the play.”

“Only because the club had the fashion show approved.” Yukio heard how hollow that argument sounded. A day earlier a roar of jubilation rushed out of their club room when both their applications won approval from the student council.

“Yukio!”

“I know, I know. At least 8:1 had their Himekaizen history approved.” And that was the only freshman class to get full access to a classroom for the entire festival. A full six freshman classes were assigned to food stalls and other booths, apart from the students involved with club activities.

And then there was the Himekaizen Cultural Exchange Club, with Principal Nakagawa as advisor, who got a main event approved plus what only initially looked like a food stall. The large area set aside for the barbecue wasn't lost on anyone.

“They're jealous much?” Yukio asked.

“You ask me. It's 3:1. We're used to being the centre of attention, and I don't think my classmates ever saw this let-down coming.”

They should have. Ryu had even said as much. But Yukio didn't say that aloud. 6:1 had one out of two major events allocated to freshman classes. The reaction hadn't exactly been ecstatic, but after lunch when the freshmen were able to compare notes his classmates started to understand how lucky they had been. In a way it was a good thing that 3:1 had drawn blank, but he wasn't about to say that to Kyoko.

Yukio tightened his grip on her hand. They were heading to cram school. For once he had managed to get his parents to agree on something, and they paid half each for his cram school. For his extended time together with Kyoko if he wanted to be honest with himself.

It meant a few missed club hours, but time together with Kyoko was more important than the club. Sure, he'd have to show some results or his parents would pull the plug.

It was the old route he walked. The one he had walked with Urufu during spring term, but they almost never spent their Friday evenings at their old mall these days.

“I miss it in a strange way,” Kyoko said when they rounded the last corner and saw the mall ahead of them. It was as if she had read his mind.

Yukio stared ahead of him, and when he looked over his shoulder he saw Kyoko's eyes searching the same empty spot. Urufu's gaudy bike wasn't locked to the stand. It wouldn't be; Yukio had known that from the start, but it was Friday and old habits were hard to forget.

“So do I,” he admitted. “He's going to Haven Café after club hours.”

“You met here before?”

“Uhum.”

“Before high school I mean.”

“Yeah, I know. That you meant middle school. We did, even after he was expelled.” In fact we started meeting here long after he was expelled, but that's too complicated to explain. “He had this stupid stunt where he pretended he didn't know they waited tables there.” Yukio started walking in a wide circle.

“Yes, exactly like that,” Kyoko said and giggled. “And he'd come almost to the counter before he returned. Did you always take the same table?”

Yukio nodded. “If it was free, but it almost always was.” Second term and we're already talking memories. So much happened.

“I wonder how she's doing.” Kyoko's voice had gone silent.

He didn't answer and they walked hand in hand until they reached the mall and turned left. From now on they wouldn't have to part ways here, and Yukio intended to enjoy the most of it.

Cram school wasn't exactly fun, but being with Kyoko was.

“I wonder as well. They're so tied up now,” Yukio said and continued the conversation that had died a few minutes earlier. He liked how they had grown together enough for him to be able to do that.

“I worry a little. She doesn't exactly have good grades, and now she's juggling both her modelling job and the club.”

Yukio grimaced. He knew the feeling all too well, and Urufu had it a lot easier than Kuri. “I'll ask him to take more responsibility for the culture festival.”

“Is that fair?” Kyoko asked.

They were coming up to their cram school, and climbing the stairs gave Yukio a few more moments to mull over her question. “It's not a matter of fair any longer, is it? We have to make sure the club does a good job, and there's only Urufu to lead us now.” That wasn't entirely true. Ryu had shown what kind of man he would grow up to become during the workshops at the resort.

“I'll ask Noriko,” Kyoko said and verified what he had just thought.

Chapter six (segment four), 2016, September, Ryu

“And with that I leave the word to your class representative,” Kondo-sensei said.

Their popular home-room teacher was replaced by their not so popular class representative by the blackboard.

She wasn't mean or anything, and Ryu appreciated how she refused to have anything to do with him or Kuri. It felt refreshing if nothing else.

Outside the classroom windows small clouds played on a blue sky, and it was still hot enough to be called summer.

“Our votes have left us with a cos-play café, haunted house and mud wrestling. I hope you'll kill that last one quickly today,” the class rep said. A loud murmur of agreement told him half their class had absolutely nothing to do with the mud wrestling idea.

She placed a ballot box on the teachers desk and had empty slips of paper passed around in the classroom.

“Now, before you vote, we'll apply for two events. If none of them pass it's either food stalls or competition booths. Understood?”

Ryu grinned. Harsh but efficient. You just killed the wrestling all on your own. He stared at the perpetually sulking class rep as she oversaw the casting of the votes.

When they were all done she marked up three sections on the black board, and long before half of the votes were counted it was clear that the café would win by a wide margin with the haunted house in second place.

Ryu suspected it would be the stalls for them in the end anyway. From what he heard the second years had priority for the more popular events with the third years running any larger arrangements. Well, they'd fight for a slot in the gym for the fashion show, but that was the club and not 3:1.

The bell rang and their class rep went for the student council room. Beginning tomorrow the festival would get their own planning area in an empty classroom, and they'd see very little of the class reps and the club presidents for those clubs who managed to get an attractive event depending on other events for timeslots in temporary locations.

As he wasn't caught up is student council business he headed over to their club room. On his way there he glanced into 6:1 to see if Yukio or Ulf was there. They weren't, but a few girls gave him hopeful giggles. He smiled back at them, waved for some extra brownie points and walked another two classrooms.

When he entered he arrived into a minor commotion. From the voices it was clear 6:1 hadn't made a choice to the satisfaction of the entire class. At least not those who were members of the club.

Hiroyuki-kun and Hitomi-chan stood by a table in the office area. Another member from 6:1 sat in a chair beside Yukio and Urufu took down notes on a whiteboard.

Whiteboard? When did we get one? Ryu looked around. There were three of them mounted on the walls and another two on wheels. Damn, did Urufu open those deep pockets of his once again?

“What's up,” Ryu asked.

“Huh? Oh it's you.” Urufu finished jotting down whatever it was he was doing. When he turned Ryu could see he was nursing an aching back. “We've got a play on our hands, well that or a café of some kind.”

“And he just doesn't understand how important this is,” Hitomi-chan complained.

Ryu looked at Urufu, but Yukio got in first. “Hitomi-chan, Urufu has never done a culture festival before. He doesn't know, but I think we can make him understand.”

Always prepared to defend your friend. Still weren't you in the same class last year? No, that's right. He got expelled, which makes it my problem as well. “Urufu, it's the biggest happening during the year, and Himekaizen runs it for two days.”

Urufu shrugged. “They told me. So it's an all important annual event. I've seen those you know, in Sweden.”

Yeah, I bet you have. But we can't tell. “What's the problem?”

“If we don't get the café we're stuck with a play!” Hitomi-chan said, and Hiroyuki-kun nodded agreement with her.

“To be honest I'd give up on the café,” Ryu suggested. “Second years will get most of those.”

“You're just as bad as Urufu.”

So that was the problem. When Ryu looked closer at the whiteboard he could see that most of Urufu's notes concerned a play. You think you can land that one? “Urufu, you're planning for the play?”

“Yeah, as I told them, if we go for something modern, say West Side Story, we could integrate the play with the show the club applies for. Thematic cohesion should give both applications a greater chance for approval.”

Thematic cohesion. Yes, that's Urufu all right. Ryu decided against voicing his thoughts. “Sounds like an idea. Probably won't get shot down like our café and haunted house.”

“You applied for one as well?”

Ryu nodded at Hiroyuki-kun who had asked the question. “Fat chance though. We'll be doing food stalls this year.”

“Ah, on that topic. Try to get something foreign. We'll apply for the barbecue to be the centrepiece of some kind of international cuisine area.”

“Huh?”

“If we can get enough of the food stalls to serve foreign food we can make a thing out of it and concentrate it to one area separate from the rest of the stalls.”

Ryu stared at Urufu. “Why would we want to?”

“Because it's more fun that way, and we could have a small stage and run mini events as well.”

Yeah, that definitely was Urufu. Always planning a little bit further than anyone else. “There's more to it as well I guess,” Ryu said.

Urufu nodded. “Yes. Everyone involved will feel like a part of something larger locally. We'll get an excuse to carry out a lot of tables, and in the end the freshmen will have their café anyway.”

Yes, definitely Urufu. Father said he would make a good CEO. Ryu suspected he had already been one.

Chapter six (segment three), 2016, August, Noriko

What a pain! Admittedly a very good looking pain, but still. Noriko slid the door open to their room and entered. Normal club activities were partially suspended now when they had to come up with an idea for the impending cultural festival. Most of the members would be dragged into whatever their class decided to do as well, so they didn't plan anything more advanced than a food-stall or two, or would have but for the sheer size of the club.

Now there were two new ideas floating around, and one of them had a depressingly good chance of survival. Between her idiot bro, Kuri, Hitomi-chan and Nao-sempai they could probably pull the fashion show off. In a pinch even Urufu could be used depending on what kind of clothes they wanted to show off. Even the budget looked fine, as in not a single yen spent fine, because Kuri said she could get all clothes for free.

“Noriko, wait!”

And there he was again. The good looking pain. Calling her Noriko like they had know each other all their life, but with Urufu in the club no one noticed anyway as he didn't use honorifics with anyone.

“Yes, what is it? You don't need to shout.”

“Just wanted to talk with you.”

“No, you want to touch me, and there's no touching between us two.”

Some nervous laughter broke out from further inside the room. Takado Nao had arrived just days earlier and called her out for a confession almost the first thing. Now she was known all around the school as the whirlwind rejection, and still he persisted.

“I can wait with the touching. Kissing comes before that anyway.”

“There's no kissing between us either. Nao-sempai, there's nothing nothing between us.”

“There's a conversation between us,” he said and grinned.

“Gah! That's only because you called to me to… Why do I even bother explaining to you?”

Noriko threw up her arms in exasperation. She rolled her eyes, but inwardly she smiled. She didn't exactly like him or anything, but he always behaved like a perfect gentleman whenever he didn't exchange banter with her. And he was very, very good looking, and she did feel more than a little flattered.

“Look, the only thing between us is planning our participation in the cultural festival,” she said.

“See, that's more than nothing,” Nao-sempai said and laughed.

“Whatever.” She wasn't angry with him, not really. She just made sure he kept a minimum of distance.

Less than a week, and Nao-sempai already made as much an impact on the club as the motor mouth. Noriko saw how the girls in the club made advances, and she knew that the second year floor in the left wing was ablaze as well.

“Kuri?”

“Uhum, you two finished with your lover's quarrel?”

“Yes,” Nao-sempai answered.

“No, I mean there never was one… there can't be one… we're not...” Damn you Kuri! Despite the embarrassment Noriko smiled to herself again. I haven't let Urufu off the hook just yet. But somewhere deep inside Noriko admitted that she was slowly doing just that. She still loved him, but he was too far away for her to reach.

“Kuri, are we going with the show?”

Kuri shrugged, as did Nao-sempai. “We can run with it. I'll handle the details. But I'd prefer we apply for the barbecue as well. Ulf can run that one.”

You've grown considerably considerate about his feelings. What happened last week? Kyoko and Yukio were tight-lipped about it, but something had definitely happened. Enough to take Kuri down a peg or two, well the recent idiotic attempt at bringing renewed bullying to bear excepted of course.

“Fine. I'll draw up the plans and have the groups go through it,” Noriko said. She turned her head to face Nao-sempai. “That means you and Kuri are responsible for our application for the show.”

He grinned, but then he turned serious. “We'll take care of it.” There was nothing of his playful flirting left now.

In that sense he was very different from her brother. Ryu simply couldn't resist an attempt to flirt, and he was living proof that good looks alone wasn't enough to make a prince of Himekaizen. When it came to popularity he and Nao-sempai played in different leagues.

“Good,” she said. That left the barbecue, but if Urufu got himself involved in planning that request they'd end up with a written application far beyond anything anyone else in Himekaizen had the competence to produce. Especially if she helped him with writing it. His Japanese was still sub-par.

“Hitomi-chan, if we get the show, would you like to show off some clothes?” It wasn't really a question, but Noriko had to give the beauty from Urufu's class some kind of mental candy after the episode downstairs earlier.

Hitomi-chan popped out from nowhere, just as Noriko assumed she would. “Yes, I'd like that very much!”

You're just too easy to read. “Then start planning with Kuri and Nao-sempai. We wouldn't want the event to be declined, would we?” And, 3… 2… 1...

“Of course, I'll just get my bag.”

Sheesh! Well, she's taller than I am and she got the looks. Guess all of us are born with different gifts. Noriko shook her head as she listened to the airhead rummaging around in the lounging part of their club room. Moments later she arrived with her bag wildly looking for Kuri.

Nao-sempai had already followed Kuri to the office area and Noriko just pointed Hitomi-chan in the right direction.

That left handling her brother, but he shouldn't be a problem. Problems came in the form of their class representative. That girl had stood up by her bench when those roles were assigned rather than duck as much as possible like Noriko. Which worked for half of the spring term. By now the entire class knew who was the brightest, and Noriko had no interest in being dragged into student council business. She avoided it as much as possible, but it would be impossible to do so when the festival drew closer.

Each class had to do something, and a class with both Kuri and Ryu was expected to deliver something outstanding, even if they were only freshmen. Ryu's sister, especially a sister who scored solidly among the top three of all eight freshman classes put together, was bound to be dragged into something sooner or later.

But we have Principal Nakagawa. He's still our advisor. The worst of the heat should pass me by.

Chapter six (segment two), 2016, August, Christina

Summer break came to an end, and school started anew with all the promises and problems that came with change.

In this case problems came to Christina a few days into the new term. It came in the form of some seniors with more time on their hands than brains.

Christina passed the vending machines outside the cafeteria and headed for the stairwell to their new club room. In her tow Hitomi-chan and Noriko followed, which gave the three of them the airs of a high school queen with her entourage. Entirely unintended as Christina and Noriko ran into the beauty from Ulf's class just moments earlier.

Christina was about to climb the stairs when someone suddenly called to her from the corridor.

“You there, the idiot who don't know proper Japanese!” Apparently a someone who suffered from a defunct short term memory given how the last attempt at bullying Christina eventually went down.

She walked over to the senior who made the call. “Can I help you big sister?” she said using children's Japanese. This time she didn't plan to allow anything to degenerate as far as it had done late spring.

The speaker and her friend rolled their eyes, and behind them a few of their classmates started giggling. “You? Help us?”

Morons. Don't they ever learn when they're beaten? Well, it's time to kill this one immediately. She hadn't expected anyone to try bullying her so quickly after the last attempt. “My Japanese is bad. You are ugly. I can learn Japanese surprisingly fast, but can you learn to be beautiful?” Christina made an effort to put on her best smile while the two seniors in front of her blanched.

The corridor had gone eerie silent when it was clear that a freshman had not only accepted the challenge but also delivered a counter-attack. Christina decided to make the most of it and walked close enough to the two girls that she had to bow slightly to look down at their faces.

Behind her she heard Hitomi-chan gasp. She was an airhead, so it couldn't be helped, but she was an exceptionally beautiful airhead. Christina doubted even the seniors would dare to push this too far if two out of the three celebrated freshmen beauties were involved.

Christina listened to Noriko laugh her heart out. She must have come to the same conclusion. The sound of a sharp slap told Christina she had cajoled Hitomi-chan into a high-five. Good girl, Noriko.

A tiny package filled with brains and good looks. How did you become such an important friend to me? It was strange, especially as Noriko was hell-bent on stealing Ulf from her. But I can respect that. You told me so to my face.

Well, time to maim these girls for a long time coming. Definitely so now that Noriko had set up the scene for Queen Bitch with retinue going to shop. I almost feel sorry for you, but I'm not taking any more crap.

“My, my,” Christina said and turned her attention to the other girl. Christina grabbed her arm before she had time to protest. Yes, it was a skin condition, and one she knew the girl had fought for a long time.

Pretending to study the arm Christina thought of a killer. And had one. She looked the girls straight in her eyes and summoned up all false concern she could conjure. “I'd recommend Tanshin's premium moisture lotion. It could almost help even someone like you.” There's no way she can afford anything Tanshin's.

The eyes Christina held locked with her own filled with tears. “You bastard!”

Christina just smiled falsely. Relentless. I have to be relentless. “You know, I can ask my agency for some. They'll give it to me if I tell them I need to help a destitute friend with a skin problem.”

The third year capitulated and sagged. Both friends had to rely on each other for support as they walked away through the corridor in defeat.

“What the hell?” Christina heard from another third year who had stood there waiting for a freshman to be humiliated.

“What happened?” Noriko asked.

Christina turned to answer, but Hitomi-chan beat her to it. “Kuri-chan was really awful.” Hitomi-chan shuddered before she continued her explanation. “She saw how dry skin that girl had, and then she suggested that the most expensive lotion I've heard of won't be enough to fix it.”

“Sums it up pretty well,” Christina agreed when Noriko gave her a questioning look. No wonder Hitomi-chan knew. She's got the looks to explain an avid interest in cosmetics.

“Kuri-chan, I don't agree with what you did. Couldn't you see how much treatment she was using already?” Hitomi-chan said.

You've got it easy. No one ever tried to bully you. Christina placed her hands on Hitomi-chan's shoulders and bowed down to meet the beauty's eyes. “I did. I'm a professional after all. I did exactly what would hurt her the most, wouldn't you agree?”

She received a glare filled with distaste. “Just remind me never to make an enemy of you,” Hitomi-chan murmured before Christina let her go.

They climbed the stairs. In a way Hitomi-chan was right. With her sudden fame came a need not to make an enemy of her, something the seniors just earlier hadn't understood. But what about friends? Those she had were all in the club, and she couldn't even call all of them her friends.

She was respected. Christina truly felt she was, but that was her meticulously arranged beauty in action, and when that wasn't true she still held the position as president for the club. Together with Ulf as vice-president there were very few complaints about how the club was run.

So why was it so much easier to attract resentment than friendship? She was since long openly a couple with Ulf, so it couldn't be that the seniors thought she was pilfering their hunting grounds.

“Noriko, wait!”

And the only one anyone could have thought she would pilfer just showed up below them. The latest addition to their club, Nao-sempai who had just transferred in from Irishima High. He was Nao-kun when they worked as models but Nao-sempai in school. Class 7:2 where the girls were going hysterical over the new addition to the class. And he had his sights on Noriko.

“Not waiting for the likes of you,” she called downstairs and hurried up.

Christina shook her head and climbed another step. If what Ulf had told her was true this was going to be even more fun to watch than Yukio and Kyoko earlier. Nao-sempai had already confessed and been rejected once.

Chapter six (segment one), 2016, August, Yukio

The first call came around ten in the evening, and after the third he convinced his mother to drive him to Kuri's apartment.

For a while he thought of calling Kyoko, but her parents would most likely have gone ballistic if he tried a stunt like that.

Traffic was bad with a lot of people in their twenties driving to parties celebrating that summer was about to end. A lot of university students flocked the streets as well. All in all it took his mother the better part of half an hour to get there. Eleven pm.'

It was still warm in the air, so the shuddering couldn't be because he was freezing. Yukio ran up the stairs and grabbed Urufu's shoulders. “What's wrong, man?”

“She's not here. She doesn't take calls and she doesn't reply to emails. I don't know where she's gone. Amaya's coming. She's a police and there has to be something she can do.”

Yukio let the flood of words roll over him. Urufu was frantic, and he probably didn't even know he was talking constantly.

“Man, calm down. Mom's here and Sato-sensei is coming. We'll be fine,” he said. Truth be told he didn't have a clue what the emergency was about. Kuri was out, she had flipped her phone off and thus she couldn't be reached. End of problem. Both Urufu and Kuri were grown ups anyway. They just looked like high schoolers.

But then crap with Urufu seldom was that easy.

Yukio looked down the stairs. His mother stood there looking back up. She pointed towards a line of vending machines and Yukio nodded. She vanished out of sight, and Yukio sat down beside his friend. There wasn't much else to do?

From outside the railings he could hear the muted metallic thumps of cans dropping to the bottom of a machine. Shortly afterwards his mother came up with some canned coffee. When she looked at him Yukio just shook his head. There wasn't anything more she could do, and she walked back down again. A bit later a thin line of white in the dark rose above the railings. He smelled the cigarettes she smoked whenever she felt awkward or nervous.

Urufu remained strangely silent throughout all this. When he was done with his first outburst it was as if he didn't have anything more to say, and a silent Urufu wasn't anything Yukio was prepared to handle. It was outright unnatural.

The sound of an engine save Yukio from his problem. He rose and leaned over the railing. Just as he had hoped Sato-sensei opened the door and stepped out. He saw her and his mother exchange a few words and then he heard Urufu's guardian make her way up the stairs.

“What's going on kids?”

Not a 'hello', no 'how are you doing' or even a 'good to see you again'. But maybe that was Sato-sensei when all was said and done.

“Don't know to be honest, sensei,” he said. That wasn't entirely true, was it? “Seems Urufu can't contact Kuri, and he's worried,” Yukio added. This time he had told her all he had to add.

Sato-sensei looked at him. “You're a good friend, but I don't think you have to worry so much.” Then she smiled at him, a friendly smile but very much the kind of smile a grown-up gives a child.

Yukio wasn't comfortable with that, but he had involved adults because he was uncertain what to do. “It's not that Kuri's gone I'm worried about,” he tried to explain. “But Urufu didn't feel all that well earlier, well you know.” More like he had gone totally under the surface for some time, and that did worry Yukio. It was doubly frustrating as he wasn't certain how much the adults had learned or how much he could tell them.

“Thank you for caring. I'll take it from here. I think you can go home with your mother now.”

At that moment Urufu's phone blared to life, and Yukio watched his friend frantically dig around in his pockets for it.

Listening to half a conversation in Swedish was bewildering. Yukio only understood Kuri's name, or rather the unpronounceable version of it Urufu used. His voice rose from concern and worry to anger and irritation; it hovered on frustration, balancing on the edge between resentment and reconciliation until the latter won and Urufu's voice sank back to some kind of mutual understanding and promises. After that it petered out into soft sounds Yukio didn't need to know Swedish to understand anyway.

He watched Urufu hang up the call, slide the phone back into the pocket where it belonged and stretch out on the concrete outside Kuri's door. He sagged, shrunk as worry ran off him and met the eyes of his guardian.

“I think we can go home,” he said. “She was only working late.”

You should have called earlier, Yukio thought. Dammit Kuri, Urufu deserves better. “You OK with me going home, man?”

Urufu nodded and accepted the hand Sato-sensei stretched out to him. “I'll be fine. Thanks for being here, Yukio.”

Yukio grinned. “You'll be there for me next time. Just go home man.”

There was no smell of cigarettes from below, so Yukio knew his mother already sat in the car waiting for him. He grabbed Urufu's shoulder and walked down the stairs. Somehow he didn't think this was the last of it. Rather a beginning of something he wasn't sure he wanted to see through.

Midsummer's eve, sunset

Christina left the barbecue behind her. She needed some time on her own and climbed up the small hill she had visited earlier that evening.

The sun was finally setting. Half past ten already? Yukio will go bonkers. For some reason that thought was hilarious and she laughed into the summer evening.

With the sun setting temperature dropped rapidly. It wasn't like Japan where summer nights were warm, even though you couldn't trust June at all. A lot like April in Sweden with the weather gods playing the lottery most every day.

A clean slab of weather-beaten stone made do as a bench, and she stared across the sea. Seeing everyone back together like this brought a lot of memories to her. Some good and some not so good.

Right now she mulled over some of the latter. What she had done, and how those deeds eventually found her here a quarter of a century later, because there was a connection between what she had done as a teenager and where she ended up as an adult.

Christina pulled her shawl tighter around her. A lingering wind brought salt and sea to her nose, but she couldn't feel as childishly nostalgic as she had done earlier. Because of what had happened back then.

Some had been accidents, but some had been poor and selfish choices from her part, and those haunted her still. She had paid for them in full, but redemption was still an open question.

Did she want them undone? Yes, but she had already been given a second chance at life, so she had no right to complain.

Still, what if?

Chapter five (segment twelve), 2016, August, Ulf

Ulf rode his bike to the square feeling giddy with joy. It was over an hours worth of cycling, but it was worth it if he could have a full day with Christina to himself.

Tomorrow would be the traditional dating day for teenagers, but Saturday morning wasn't as packed, so he brought the bike all the way to the statue and leaned on it while he waited.

Half an hour early was maybe a bit excessive, but he didn't want to risk being late and last time she had waited for him here. Besides the morning was warm, and he enjoyed watching the street-life even when there wasn't all that much of it to watch.

There was something he needed to clear with himself as well. Maria. The reason he flinched whenever Christina came too close was because he felt he was cheating on his wife, but she was lost forever in that other world. Did it count as cheating if they could never meet? Did it count as breaking up, or divorcing, if you walked out the door one day never able to return?

And he couldn't even send her a message. He couldn't let her know he was fine, or at least mostly fine. He couldn't tell his children that he wasn't lying dead in a ditch.

And because of all that he couldn't tell Christina that he loved her. But he did. Maybe more than life itself. And there was that other thing. She couldn't know how he lived for her, because she had become his reason for living. Guilty thoughts of Maria be damned, and there just was no way he could load Christina with that kind of a burden. No one should feel responsible for someone else's life. OK, your own children, but not a grown up person.

Ulf chewed on his lower lip. If it made him look girlie so be it. He hadn't cared much the last thirty years, and his attitude garnered him both enemies and admirers during his university years. It permanently built him a reputation as someone with integrity. He had spent half his life deserving it.

Lost in thoughts he didn't notice how half an hour had passed, so now the real wait started. Last time she had been early. He could as well kill some time while he waited, so he rolled up his arms and gave his bike some much needed maintenance. It didn't make him too dirty and it was kind of fun working with his hands for a change.

When he was done there was still no sign of Christina, and now she was half an hour late. Ulf called her but only got the message that her unit was off service. He emailed her in case she could read but not talk.

Another half an hour passed, and another, but she never arrived. After two hours and five failed attempts to call her he gave up. By now he was more than a little afraid and also a bit angry, so he rode to her apartment and knocked on her door in a very pre mobile phone era style. There was no response but her door was locked.

Ulf was scared enough now to entertain the idea of entering by force, but it was unlikely she'd be inside unable to hear him hammering on her door, so in the end he abandoned that idea.

He did call Kyoko, but she knew nothing. On a whim he called Ryu and Midori as well, but neither of them had heard anything.

There was nothing to do. He walked down the stairs, locked his bike and returned back up. Some time he could spend looking over the railings, but there was nothing to see but the equally dull apartment complex across the street and in the end he sat down outside Christina's door and prepared himself for a long wait.