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Chapter 93: Reflections in Warm Water

As the evening fell and dinner was cleared away, the family went for their booking in the private onsen. The staff had laid out fresh towels. Steam drifted in curls across the stone floor. A warm quiet settled in, inviting the slow confession of secrets.

Hikaru helped Eimi step carefully into the bath.

Pia moved like a woman with no burdens. She sat with her shoulders sunk into the water, eyes closed for a moment, face turned toward the faint sound of frogs beyond the wooden walls.

Hikaru looked at her. “So,” she said, low and curious, “what’s got you in such a good mood today?” She paused, and added with a smile, “You’ve been singing The Look of Love under your breath for two hours.”

"I have not!" Pia looked surprised. "Have I? Well, I'll sing you something else after the bath, if I can use the piano they have in reception. If I'm still in a good mood. So get the beers in, Yancy. Not right now. Afterwards, to help us cool down."

Pia watched the family unit relax and enjoy the bath. Yancy, solid and reliable, a man in his prime, with a full life ahead of him. Hikaru, young and beautiful despite the strain and the scars of her pregnancy. Juggling the management of a toddler with a high-power career in robotics. Very much in love, and united as a couple by such a cute daughter!

And one more on the way, hopefully. Pia crossed her fingers for luck. *It's worth it, isn't it?* she thought. *The difficulties and dangers of pregnancy, giving birth, becoming a mother. I won't ask because part of the secret of not being afraid is not to know all the hazards. But surely most of it is good or people wouldn’t do it. Maybe I should ask.*

"I want children one day,” she said, suddenly out of nowhere. “Watching you guys I can see all the good things. I know there are bad things as well."

Hikaru looked up at that, her arms resting along the rim of the onsen, dark lashes heavy with moisture. For a moment, she didn’t speak, just let the warm steam settle over them, letting Pia’s words float between them like fresh petals on water.

Yancy opened one eye and snorted gently. “There are many bad things,” he muttered from his spot opposite. “Mostly involving getting peed on. Also dirty nappies and vomit and sleepless nights. That’s just from a father’s perspective. Hikaru can tell you about everything else.”

Eimi, currently building something odd from bath buckets, chirped, “I made a lake mountain!”

“Cracked nipples!” Hikaru winced. “But you’re right,” she said quietly, “There are good things, too.”

She turned her gaze toward Pia, calm and direct. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Every type of stress; physical, emotional, hormonal, existential. I didn’t know if I was strong enough until I’d got through it. Doing it was like standing at the edge of a cliff, and stepping off because I was too scared not to. Some days, I still don’t know how to cope.”

Her hand reached out without thinking, and brushed a damp curl back from Eimi’s forehead.

“But when I see her? Or when Yancy makes her laugh until she hiccups? Or when I know this small person has already learned love and kindness, and some of that came from me.” She gave a soft, rueful smile. “It’s like being broken open and poured into something new. And the new thing matters.”

Yancy gave a small grunt of agreement, his eyes soft on his daughter.

Hikaru let her voice drop even softer. “I think you’d be a good mother, Pia. Not just because you’re brave. But because you care. You’d protect your child with everything you have. And that’s what it takes.”

She didn’t say anything about the scars. Or the trauma. Or the times Pia had cried in her sleep in the guest futon back in Shinyurigaoka. She just reached for Pia’s hand under the water and gave it a light squeeze. “And the good bits?” Hikaru added, winking now. “They start small. But they grow fast.”

Pia got out of the bath and went naked to look over the surrounding privacy fence and see the dark sky, the stars, the moon reflected in the lake. There was a gentle wind in the trees. The cicadas and frogs were chirping.

"They're looking for love too. Or actually just sex, I suppose. It's not the same thing. That's a mistake I won't make again."

The wind rustled through the pine trees like a whispered agreement. The faint shimmer of the lake below echoed the quiet ache of cicadas, eternal seekers in the night.

Yancy leaned his head against the stone rim of the bath, eyes closed, murmuring, “Pia Reese, queen of existential nudity.”

Hikaru rolled her eyes fondly. “She’s not wrong, though.”

Pia turned and got back in the bath, unconcerned for her nakedness. It was nothing the others hadn't seen before. This was the family bath. A place where you could deepen bonds through 'skinship'.

“I've had such a good holiday. It's a shame we have to go back to Shinyuri tomorrow. But let's enjoy it as much as we can now. Live in the zen moment."

“You’ve changed, you know,” Hikaru said gently, drawing one knee up against her chest. “Not just today. Not just this week. You’re more you. Like you stopped hiding from yourself.”

Yancy opened one eye, shrugged. “She’s still bossy.”

“But the right kind of bossy,” Hikaru said with a grin.

Eimi, now sprawled on a warm towel beside the bath, like a sleepy otter, gave a murmur of agreement, "Pian is nice", before falling asleep.

Steam drifted from the surface of the water, and the stars shimmered above the mountains. The long moment out of time was interrupted by a timer alarm from Pia’s phone. She sighed.

"Our time is almost up, and your daughter needs her bed. We had better go back inside. I'm going to ask reception if I can play the piano. I'm in the mood."

Hikaru gave a nod, rising gracefully from the bath and squeezing water from her navy-blue hair as she reached for a towel.

“Eimi’ll be snoring before we’ve dried off,” she said softly, bundling Eimi into her arms with practiced care. “Pian, you really have been her favourite part of this trip.”

Yancy hauled himself up from the bath with a grunt. “I’m her favourite part of every trip.”

Eimi murmured something incoherent into her mother’s shoulder, one hand still holding a small towel as if she might need it again in a dream.

Hikaru glanced sideways at Pia as they stepped out into the changing area, where soft towels waited and the scent of hinoki filled the air. “You should absolutely ask,” she said. “There’s no one else playing tonight. I think you’ve earned a recital.” She gave a small, wry smile. “Play something romantic. Just in case the gods are listening.”

Back in their suite, as Yancy tucked Eimi in, Hikaru opened a tin of chilled beer with a click-hiss.

Pia walked to Reception, moonlight caught in her skin and a tune dancing somewhere in her mind.

The front desk staff were surprised at the tall blonde gaijin, hot from the onsen, dressed in a yukata and slippers, asking in excellent, polite Japanese, for permission to play on the hotel's piano.

"Yes, of course, please enjoy. We request you play quiet tunes, though, as some of the guests may have gone to sleep already."

Pia sat down and looked over the instrument. It was a good quality baby grand, very different in size and mechanism to her electric Yamaha back in Surry Hills, though the keyboard was the same. She played some chords, scales, and arpeggios to warm up and get the feel of the keys and pedals. Then she took a deep breath and began to play Alicia Keys's Fallin'. She joined in with the lyrics after a couple of bars of vocal noodling to get into the mood.

Her voice, low and intimate, wrapped around the opening lines like silk, aching and a little weary, but laced with something else too; resilience, tenderness, that unmistakable Pia edge of emotion restrained just enough to tease.

“I keep on fallin’… in and out… of love… with you…”

Behind the front desk, the young attendant who’d given permission froze mid-paper-stack, then sat down to listen. The melody curled around the lobby’s timber beams like incense. A little smoky, a little sad. A little bit magic.

Hikaru stood just outside the door of their suite, hair still damp, holding a sleeping Eimi against her chest. She could only just hear the piano. The notes reached her like a whisper through steam and memory.

*She’s not playing for us. She’s playing for him. Wherever he is tonight. And he had better be on his way or I’m going to have words to say.*

The lobby had grown still. A sleepy hum of vending machines, the distant creak of the pine trees, and cicadas outside. The night was deep now, among the pine-clad mountain slopes.

Pia brushed a hand through her short, damp hair, exhaled once, and settled her fingers on the keys again. This time, she didn’t play with the smooth fluidity of the Alicia Keys number. This was different, delicate, less familiar territory. But it was the one that meant something special here.

First Love, by Utada Hikaru.

She struck the opening chord a little hesitantly, the melody blooming with unmistakable melancholy, the way the notes seemed to fold in on themselves, like breath caught short by memory. Her voice entered softly, uncertain on the opening lines, growing steadier with every bar.

"Saigo no kisu wa… tabako no flavor ga shita…" (Our last kiss tasted of tobacco)

She sang most of it in the original Japanese, syllables rounded carefully, like someone who knew it and meant it. A few staff had quietly stepped out from behind their counters. An elderly couple in the corner held hands. She reached the chorus, faltered slightly, and pushed on without flinching.

“You are always gonna be my love…” Then, almost whispering it, “Itsuka dareka to mata koi ni ochitemo…” (Even if I fall in love again…)

It wasn’t technically brilliant. She hit a few flat notes. Missed a chord here and there. But her heart was in every line. That fragile, yearning tenderness of first love, and maybe a last one, too, a forever love. When Pia finished, she sat there for a moment, her foot on the sustain pedal, letting the final note resonate in the warm hush.

No one clapped. Not from rudeness. Because it didn’t feel like a performance. It felt like a gift. The receptionist bowed deeply from behind the counter.

“Arigatou gozaimashita,” she said softly. “That was very beautiful.” Another voice, from a guest near the staircase, “Sugoi.”

Pia smiled quietly, bowed her head once, and closed the piano lid. Feeling happy and a bit emotion-wobbly, she returned to the room, where she hoped for Yancy's sake he had not drunk all the beer. The sliding door creaked softly as she stepped inside, her yukata tapping at her ankles, her cheeks warm from a blend of applause, adrenaline, and the lingering emotion of the song.

"I enjoyed that. I've been practicing for open mic nights but I haven’t done one yet. It was good to have a real audience even if there were only a few people there. Is Eimi fast asleep? Has Yancy drunk all the beer?

Yancy, sprawled on the floor with a pillow under his head and a manga open on his chest, lifted a hand without looking. “There’s one beer left. I stared at it for a while and decided not to be that guy. But if you want more, I’ll go to the vending machine.”

“I never thought you could drink it that fast. I only sang two songs!” Pia was mock outraged.

Hikaru, curled up beside the sleeping form of Eimi in a blanket cocoon, smiled over her shoulder. “Eimi’s completely out. Slept through Yancy dropping his phone on his own face. Twice.”

Yancy groaned faintly. “Your singing travelled all the way up here. You do know First Love is a public cry of emotional ruin, right?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Hikaru murmured, sitting up to pour Pia a small chilled glass of beer. “It was beautiful.” She handed it over gently. “You looked very alive.”

The beer hissed softly as Pia took it in both hands. The tatami was still cool, with enough texture and give to feel wonderfully relaxing under her body. The night outside hummed with frogs and cicadas, and the deep-breathing rhythm of the hills. Somewhere, a monkey and a cat might be fighting over a slice of cheesecake.

“It doesn’t necessarily say exactly what I feel, but it’s still very beautiful. Anyway, I can’t write music or lyrics for toffee, so I have to use other people’s work. Or something. I can still put my heart into it.”

“Maybe you could do an open mic when you get back?” Hikaru said, her voice light but interested.

"Back in Sydney? Or do you mean something in Shinyurigaoka, Hikaru? There’s a music university, isn't there? I hadn't thought of that. It would be fun. I don't think I’ve got time on this visit, but I'm sure I'll come again." Pia smiled, "At least, if you'll have me back."

Hikaru’s face softened into a quiet, luminous expression. “You’ll always have a place here,” she said simply. “You’re family. Not the kind who drifts in and out. The kind who leaves a toothbrush.”

Yancy grunted from the floor, flipping a page. “You do have a toothbrush here. You left it in a caddy in the kitchen with the cooking chopsticks. Which is very bad manners.”

Pia laughed into her beer. “Great Goddess! I didn’t really.” The tatami creaked as she shifted to sit cross-legged, the fizz still tickling the rim of the glass.

“There is a university in Shinyurigaoka,” Hikaru said, circling back. “Showa University of Music. You’d fit in. Beautiful voice, dangerous eyes.” She winked. “Maybe next visit,” she added softly. “Maybe you’ll stay for longer.”

Eimi murmured in her sleep and rolled over. She tucked her little hands under her cheek.

The room dimmed as Hikaru lowered the lights. The only sound now was the sparkle of the beer, and the voices of nature in the gentle wind.

<<To be continued...>>

Chapter 94: Approach Vectors

Bronte NSW, Sunday, late morning

Vic stood at his kitchen bench, staring at a half mug of instant coffee like it might try and talk him out of what he was doing. His phone was in speaker mode. The ring box sat beside it. No dramatic velvet case, just a small, clean, navy blue box with a chrome hinge.

His overnight suitcase lay nearly ready on the couch; jeans, shoes, underwear, toiletries, and two carefully folded shirts Pia had admired. He slipped in the cologne she said she liked the best on him. The apartment was messier than usual. So was he. But his eyes were very alive.

Dan was on the other end of the call. “Bro. You’re really gonna do it?”

“I’m really gonna do it.”

“You’re flying ten hours to surprise her?”

“Yep.”

“To propose.”

Vic laughed. “I know. Who am I?”

“Wow! Pia, she’s a fething menace but she’s a solid gold keeper. Kiri said so and she’s always right. So get in there. You better got a good ring. Listen, mate.”

“Yeah?”

“Good luck.”

Hakone Yumoto Station

The Reese family boarded the Romance Car with a bag of ekiben lunchboxes, drinks and snacks, and another bag of hastily purchased souvenirs; speciality local food and craft items.

Pia and Yancy rotated the bench seats to make a little family pod, a cosy four person space where they could eat and chat on the 90 minute journey to Shinyurigaoka. The train pulled out, lunchboxes were handed round, and everyone began to eat. Once the edge of their hunger was off, Pia coughed in a significant way.

"Er, I want to say thank you for coming on this trip. It's been the most tremendous fun. I'm really happy we spent the time together as a family."

Yancy gave Pia a side-eyed grin. “You’re not dying, are you?”

“Don’t be a troll,” Hikaru murmured, nudging his leg with her foot. She looked at Pia over the rim of her bottled barley tea and smiled softly. “It’s been really special. And you’ve been wonderful with Eimi. She won’t shut up about you now. You may be contractually obligated to return.”

Eimi, curled up beside Pia with a half-eaten inarizushi cradled in a serviette, nodded solemnly. “Pian is in the family now.”

“Well,” Yancy said, reaching into the snack bag for a packet of senbei, “If this is your dramatic preamble to saying you’re not coming back to Japan any time soon, you picked a weird tone.”

The train flexed gently around a curve.

"Of course I'm coming back!” Pia exclaimed. “I only stayed away because I had to. You'll probably get fed up with me asking to come and stay with you. That's not the point, though. What I wanted to say is that I've decided to return to Sydney a day early. I'm missing Vic an awful lot more than I expected. I've changed my ticket to fly tomorrow night instead of on Tuesday, and I'll surprise him. So tonight will be my last evening with you. For now, at any rate. I'm sorry to upset everyone's plans suddenly."

Yancy blinked. “Wait! What? Tomorrow?” He set down his rice cracker with exaggerated care, as though worried it might break under the emotional pressure.

Hikaru froze mid-sip of her tea, and lowered the bottle slowly. Her brows lifted, with surprise not judgement, and something else, curiosity threaded with dawning understanding. “I knew something was going on,” she said quietly. “That’s why you’ve been floating around like a romcom heroine since yesterday.”

Eimi looked between the adults, confused but content, then reached into Pia’s lunchbox and stole a grape.

Yancy scratched the back of his neck. “Well, damn. I mean, I was planning to beat you at Hanafuda again tomorrow night, but I guess true love trumps that.” He gave Pia a big grin. “Go. With my blessing, for what it’s worth. Knock him flat.”

Hikaru nodded slowly, then smiled with real warmth. “You must really love him.”

“And bring him back here for a holiday as soon as you can,” Yancy said firmly.

The cabin lights came on automatically as the train rolled into another tunnel. In the dim reflection of the window, their faces flickered with the anticipation of goodbyes, and something new that was about to begin.

Pia looked surprised at their calm reaction. "I thought you would give me a piece of your mind for making such a big last minute change. So thanks again. We've got one evening left. Any ideas for what to do?”

Hikaru's mind was racing. *Vic’s already on his way, arriving some time tomorrow. What if Pia leaves before he gets here? Should I tell her he's coming? Maybe I can delay her somehow. Maybe it will all work out by itself. I suppose I can wait until the morning and see what happens.*

Yancy shrugged and gave a lazy smile. “You’ve always been a last-minute agent of chaos. What’s one more international plot twist between siblings?” He leaned back in his seat. “Let’s just do something easy at home. Takeway dumplings, saké, ice cream, a film Eimi won’t understand but will commentate over anyway. The weather forecast is pretty bad. What looks like the last typhoon of the year is zooming up on us. It’ll rain hard tonight.”

“Popcorn!” Eimi added, already half-asleep against Pia’s arm. She hadn’t understood that Tia Pian was going to leave her soon.

Hikaru nodded slowly, carefully masking her rapid thoughts with a relaxed expression. “That sounds perfect,” she said. “Low key. Just us.” But her mind was churning under the surface. Circling and circling the dilemma. *Pia’s serious. She’s really going. If she leaves on Monday, Vic could arrive too late. Do I tell her now? Even though it would ruin the surprise.*

She sighed.

*No. Wait. Breathe. Nothing’s going to happen for hours and hours. He’s on a plane. She’s got to sleep. She’ll still be here in the morning. Just buy time then if you need to.*

She turned to Pia with a gentle smile. “Let’s make the most of tonight. You can get sentimental again at the airport.”

"You don't have to come with me,” Pia said. “Just see me off from the coach stop in Shinyuri. I'll be fine from there. Now, tonight's film, maybe a Studio Ghibli? One of the gentler ones, Our Neighbour Totoro, or Kiki's Delivery Service? Or something educational, like Cells At Work."

Yancy gave a theatrical groan. “Not Cells At Work again. If I have to watch anthropomorphised blood cells flirting while fighting bacteria one more time…”

“You’ll finally learn what a neutrophil does,” Hikaru cut in sweetly.

“I know what a neutrophil does. I just don’t need it yelling and doing parkour.”

Eimi had perked up at the word Totoro, even in her drowsy state. “Totoro, Totoroooo,” she sang softly, as if summoning him.

“I vote for Kiki’s Delivery Service,” Hikaru said, slipping her phone from her bag to check what was available on streaming. “Magic, baked goods, and a cat. You can’t do better than that.”

The train rocked gently into an outer stretch of the vast conurbation, lights flickering through the windows, Shinyurigaoka drawing closer. Yancy reached into the snack bag and tossed Pia a wrapped cracker. “Alright, pirate queen. One last family film night before you fly off to ambush your Aussie surfer. But you’d better not make a habit of sneak-attack farewells like this.”

Hikaru didn’t say anything else right away. She was scrolling mentally through options, calculating flight times, and the disruption a typhoon might cause to transport. *One more night,* she told herself. *Just keep her here until lunchtime. And see what miracles arrive.*

Sunday evening, Sydney Airport

Fluorescent terminal light buzzed above Vic as he cleared security. No fanfare. Just a boarding pass, a backpack, a small suitcase, and a heart beating too fast. He texted Hikaru, brief and cryptic: “@Hikaru: Wheels up in 40. You’re a menace and I owe you a drink.” Then switched to airplane mode. He spent half the flight asleep, the other half rehearsing what he might say. None of it felt right. He’d know when he saw her.

<<To be continued...>>

Chapter 95: Diversions

Monday morning, Somewhere above the Pacific

The announcement came over the cabin speakers, polite and professional, in Japanese first, then in heavily accented English.

“This is your captain speaking. I regret that due to a strong typhoon over the Tokyo metropolitan area, this flight has been diverted to Sendai. New expected landing time is 09:15. The local weather in Sendai is 36 degrees, cloudy, with light rain. Ground staff will be available to assist you with your onward journey to Tokyo. We apologise for this interruption of your journey."

Vic’s eyes snapped open.

He checked the real-time flight map on his seatback display. The red swirl off the Pacific coast of Japan looked as furious as the Eye of Sauron. His little cartoon plane was heading north, trying to get round the eastern edge of the storm and outrun it to wherever the hell Sendai was. The fasten seatbelts sign lit up, lurid orange. The aircraft began to dance jerkily in turbulence, and some passengers cried out in alarm. “No, no, no!” he muttered, and tried to relax.

Shinyurogaoka

Pia was up early, packing furiously, checking her new passport, visa, and her flight reservation. But there was a growing worry. The weather had turned grim.

*This typhoon... How bad's it going to be? Could the airport actually get shut down? What should I do?*

She felt uncharacteristically flustered, as though the unexpected problem exceeded her capacity to cope with events. *Maybe it’ll blow over before anything bad happens.* She looked out of the window. Monsoon-like rain was drenching the view, whirled around by strong winds. Eimi's playschool was cancelled. Yancy and Hikaru had both decided to work from home.

*Sho ga nai. (It can’t be helped.) I'll play with Eimi.* “What you do want to play, little monkey?"

Eimi, still in her strawberry-print pyjamas and bouncing on a floor cushion with a reckless lack of concern for natural disasters, beamed. “Pirates!”

She swung an invisible cutlass in a wide arc. “You have to chase me, Captain Pian! The treasure is under the laundry basket!” Pia forced a smile, though her fingers twitched with the need to check the airline app again.

Hikaru, stood by the kitchen counter with her laptop open, and a cup of green tea cradled in her hands, watched the rain lash against the veranda. Her face remained composed, but her shoulders were tense.

“Haneda is still open for now,” she said carefully. “But there’s talk of cancellations. Inbound flights are being re-directed, so those planes won’t be in position for their return flights.”

Yancy wandered in with a towel slung over his shoulder. “The typhoon’s heading straight for Tokyo. Could blow past by evening. But probably not.”

Pia looked from one to the other, biting her lip, as if she was caught between decisions and didn’t trust herself not to make the wrong one twice.

Hikaru stepped a little closer, voice low but warm. “No matter what happens, we’ll adjust. In the worst case, you can fly tomorrow as originally planned.”

*Or in the better case,* she added silently, *Because then you stay long enough.* She glanced down at her phone, waiting for a message from Vic. Surely he must be in Japan by now. *Just hold on, Pia,* she thought. *One more delay. One storm.*

Eimi squealed and pulled on Pia’s hand. “Come on, Captain! We have to sail away!

Once Vic cleared Immigration he found a bench seat near the baggage claim carousels and turned his phone back on. It locked onto the DoCoMo network, and suddenly he had blazing fast 5G data. His thumbs moved quickly.

“@Hikaru: Landed. Sort of. Diverted to Sendai. Bloody typhoon. I’ll get to Shinyurigaoka, just not sure how or when. Don’t tell Pia anything yet. She’s still in the dark, right?"

He glanced at the pocket on his backpack where the ring box was safely hidden, grabbed his little suitcase, and headed for customs inspection.

Pia played with Eimi until lunchtime. They made pirate hats from old newspapers, and built a ship out of sofa cushions under the dining table, with a mop for a mast and a Pride tea-towel for their banner. She drew a treasure map, which Eimi followed all over the little house. It led to a packet of exotic Tim Tam biscuits.

Eventually the junior pirate's energy was sapped. She became floppy and unresponsive. Pia put her down for a nap in the tatami room and closed the sliding door most of the way. She checked the travel news. Lots of incoming planes were being diverted from the Tokyo airports to cities in the north or south of Japan. That would mean more delays at crowded airports and all sorts of other difficulties.

"I'm giving up on flying tonight,” she announced. “I'll message Vic that I'll try to get home on Wednesday." Pia took out her phone and sent the DM. "@Vic, terrible storm right now. You would not believe it. I'm glad you're safe in Oz. Lots of flights are being cancelled. I hope I'll get home okay on Wednesday. I'll update you when I know. <emojis: three kisses, jet plane, lightning, rain cloud.>" The message went off into the void, and the screen lit briefly with a ‘Delivered’ notification, but there was no reply.

Hikaru looked up from her phone, where she was reading Vic’s message. *It’s going to be all right!* she thought with relief.

“That’s the wisest call, Pian,” she said gently, pushing aside a sheaf of schematics. “If you tried to get to the airport now, you’d probably get drenched, re-routed, and end up sleeping on a bench with nothing to eat but vending machine peanuts.”

“As if!” Pia snorted. “I’d be in the JAL lounge eating their famous curry and drinking bottomless cocktails. But I’m not going, so that’s that.” She shelved the issue, and turned her mind to a more practical matter. “What are we going to do for dinner?”

Yancy shuffled in with a book in his hand and a resigned look. “The typhoon’s sitting right on Tokyo Bay. Like a very wet cat who refuses to move. JR have suspended the east coast Shinkansen line.”

“Pia’s staying, dear. There won’t be any flights tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Then our Hanafuda showdown is on after all.”

From the tatami room came the soft rustle of Eimi shifting in her nap cocoon.

Vic made it as far as somewhere called Utsunomiya, where everyone was disembarked from the Shinkansen and given some paperwork for refunds of their tickets. He stuffed it in a pocket and began to search frantically for a local train. 30 minutes later, thanks to Google Maps, he was heading south on the Shonan-Shinjuku line, hood down, earbuds in. His suitcase was on the luggage rack. His carry-on bag was tucked between his legs, the ring box buried under a charger cable and spare socks. A Japanese grandma type stared at him suspiciously from the opposite side of the carriage.

He smiled nervously and concentrated on his phone screen, his thumb hovering over Pia’s last message. @Vic, terrible storm right now… Vic grinned. Pia didn’t know where he was. He typed quickly, “@Pia: Glad you’re safe. Hang in there. Hope the storm clears soon. You’ll see me before you know it. <emojis: blue heart, airliner, sun coming out>" He paused, then added: “Miss you.” And sent it.

Rain streaked horizontally across the window as the train raced past rice paddies and dark green hills. Two more hours to go, if he could make it through the insane complexity of Shinjuku Station to the Odakyu Line platforms. Vic had given up reading the official guide map because it was too scary. He planned to depend on luck, intuition, and the kindness of strangers.

Pia stood up and stretched. "Do we need anything from the supermarket for dinner, Hikarin? It's Capital F wet out there but I don't mind going. It would be a bit exciting, actually. How about I make my famous fish pie?”

Hikaru looked up from her screen, one eyebrow raised in polite disbelief. “Famous fish pie? I don’t recall ever tasting this legendary dish.”

“Then this is your chance. Carpe diem.”

Yancy sipped his tea and said, “She made it once when she was twelve, and used cinnamon instead of nutmeg. It haunts me still.”

“Rude! I’ve improved it a lot since then,” Pia said. “Diss my fish pies and I won’t cook you another Croque Monsieur ever.” Yancy winced and held up his hands in surrender. “What else do we need?” she asked. “I may as well get everything in one go.”

Hikaru chuckled. “Alright, brave sailor. We’re out of milk, we need something green, spinach or pak choi, and if you’re really making fish pie, grab white fish, cream, and not-cinnamon.” She tapped a note into her phone. “Also, Eimi will expect custard pudding or chocolate cake.”

“Both,” came a sleepy voice from the tatami room.

Hikaru smiled. “Both.”

“My niece seems to have hollow legs.”

Impossibly, the rain was lashing the veranda harder now, but the warm light inside made the idea of a hearty home-cooked dinner very appealing. Pia changed into a short sleeve miniskirt dress and borrowed a rain poncho. She stepped out into the weather with bare legs and her reef shoes from Slappy Surf. Hikaru closed the door behind Pia and whispered to herself, “Not long now.”

Pia forced her way through the howling storm to the Aeon supermarket on the south-west side of the transport hub. It had a good bottle shop and she wanted some decent wine. The streets were almost empty. Only a few bedraggled pedestrians staggered around, buffeted by the strong winds like soldiers under heavy artillery bombardment. The rain was warm but savage. Her legs were soaked by the back-splash off the pavement, but the poncho kept her head and body mostly dry.

*This actually is pretty brutal! But I'm here now, so I had better complete the mission.*

The store was still open. A lot of the people had made their way in according to duty. Pia cruised the aisles to gather milk, potatoes, cheese, eggs, a variety of fish and shellfish, and fresh spinach. *I'm going to make supper my way, whatever Hikaru says.* She added bottles of red and white wine, a carton of double cream, and strawberries, to her haul. Pia sent a photo of her shopping to Hikaru, and the message, "Anything else? Apart from cakes."

Inside the warm house, Hikaru's phone buzzed beside her keyboard. She picked it up and opened Pia’s message, a shopping basket heaving with fresh food and love, blazing in the sterile glow of supermarket lighting.

She smiled and typed back, “That looks amazing. Get whatever you want for dessert, you’ve earned it. Maybe something Eimi can decorate? Also, get butter if you haven't already.” A second later, she added, “Try not to get washed away. If you get stuck, I’ll send Yancy with a rope. Or maybe a boat.”

In the tatami room, Eimi stirred under Pia’s covers and muttered something about pirate pengins.

Hikaru chuckled to herself, shook her head, and checked Vic’s last update: “I survived Shinjuku Station. Should buy the tee-shirt. Apparently Noborito is the next stop. No more delays.” She tapped her fingers on the edge of the screen. *He’s almost here, Pian, * she thought. She sent Vic a pic of herself doing Guts Pose, to encourage him.

Meanwhile, Pia was feeling seriously bedraggled. Choosing cakes had begun to seem like mission creep, but she went over to the OPA store, which had better patissieries, rather than disappoint Eimi. She decided to drop into the Dean & Deluca coffee shop near the station and recharge herself before the final push back up the hill. It was the only place she had found in Shinyurigaoka where she could get a decent flat white.

<To be continued...>>

Chapter 96: Lost and Found in Shinyurigaoka

Victor Davern was not a man who scared easily. But he'd never been in a typhoon before.

He had clutched his rucksack like a life-raft on a nightmare journey through sheets of warm rain. Eastern Japan half shut down. Flights grounded. Shinkansen suspended. And a ring, tucked in a socks-and-USBs pocket of his bag, probably still glowing faintly from its showdown with the airport scanner. He could still hear the baffled customs officer.

“Sir, this jewellery.”

“Er, yeah?”

“You… wear this?”

“No. It’s for my girlfriend. Fiancée, I hope.”

They’d shared a confused look. Vic had smiled. The official had nodded, comprehension blooming on his face like a rose in spring.

“Ahhhhhh...! Wakarimashita. Ganbatte kudasai!” (I understand. Good luck!)

Five hours and 400 kilometres later, damp, blinking away raindrops under a hastily bought FamilyMart poncho, Vic was trying to trace a path through the multilevel maze of pedestrian bridges, walkways and subnades in central Shinyurigaoka. The GPS on his phone was thoroughly confused by the storm and the high rise buildings. Pia’s locator pin was jumping around erratically when it appeared at all.

“‘Turn left at the covered shopping street,’ it says,” he muttered. “Which covered shopping street, mate? There's about six!” He shook the phone in frustration.

He paused by the lower ground level of the Aeon building, where the storm was pushing hard at the swing doors of the hueg food hall. He knew that Hikaru had sent Pia out for groceries, a convenient errand, but he thought she must have moved on. He didn’t dare go inside. There were too many aisles and definitely no GPS signal.

The pavement beyond Aeon was a dead end. Well, not exactly, the red and white sign of a post office glowed to the right, and beyond it, a multi-storey carpark where a miserable looking man with a light sabre was directing a car safely into non-existent traffic. In front of him was a huge multi-level Konami gym, its static cycles and running machines brightly lit and unoccupied in the picture windows. It all looked so clean and yet so apocalyptic. Like the start of 28 Days Later without any of the rubbish and abandoned cars. Only much wetter. To the left was another stairway to the upper deck of the pedestrian precinct. Where the storm raged. A gust caught Vic’s hood and flipped it back, slapping wet nylon against his cheeks.

“Awesome. Soaked, lost, and I’ve got a bloody ring box digging into me like I’m trying to smuggle something through a drug checkpoint.”

His phone buzzed. He glanced down and saw Hikaru’s name flash up with a location pin and a note. “Pia is in Dean & Deluca. It’s right on the corner of the OPA building, facing the south exit of the train station. If you’re lost, go back to the station and begin again.”

He gulped. His heart beat sped up. The map was now telling him he had to go all the way back where he had come from. He almost didn’t go. Almost turned away to dry off and regroup.

But the thought of her, sitting there with wet hair, unbroken but lonely, sipping coffee and wondering if she would even be able to return to Sydney on Wednesday, was the compass. His feet moved before he could second-guess himself. He climbed the stairs and slogged into the teeth of the warm rain, back towards the station entrance. The surprisingly modest sign of the OPA building slid into view as he cleared a row of small trees.

Vic paused to look up at a weird metal statue of two human-size anthropomorphised insects holding aloft an abundant stem of lilies. He blinked up at it for a moment, then refocussed on the entrance to the OPA vertical mall. His phone buzzed again. Still a few steps from the doors, dripping rain and adrenaline, he glanced down.

A selfie from Pia. Hair damp and tousled. Cheeks flushed from wind and warmth. A smear of icing sugar on her cheek. Smiling despite the weather. A steaming cup lifted to the camera.

“Shopping in a typhoon chic. I bet you’re drier than me! <emoji: annoyed face> Unless you’re catching some waves? <emoji: surfer>”

He grinned. Big and helpless. Like a man struck by lightning. She didn’t know. She had no idea he was only meters away. He tucked the phone back into his pocket with a breath that was half laugh, half sob, and pushed the door open.

An electronic bell tinkled. Warmth rolled out in a wave, and the smell of coffee, pastries, and a Bossa Nova soundtrack for BGM. The staff gave the ritual irasshaimase greeting. Vic peeled off his plastic poncho and tried not to look like a half-drowned golden retriever. Other customers pretended to ignore the tall, shaggy blond foreigner. The storm made everyone strange.

And there was Pia. At the window counter. Her phone on the tabletop. Bags of shopping on the stool next to her. A cup in her hand. She hadn’t seen him.

He took a slow step forward.

And another.

And said, “I think I’m lost. Can you tell me the way to Shinyurigaoka’s most beautiful woman?”

Pia drained her cup. *Time to go.* She picked up her phone. But there was a sudden presence behind her, a tall figure limned in reflection in the plate glass window, a Pepper's Ghost of someone whose features were dissolved in rainy streaks, but the voice... Male, Australian accent?

I think I’m lost. Can you tell me the way to Shinyurigaoka’s most beautiful woman? Pia spun on her stool.

"What? Vic!? But you're in Sydney!"

Vic stood there, hair damp and curling at the ends, his tee-shirt clinging to him under a half-zipped hoodie, jeans darkened by the storm. He looked wet, wind-blown, worn out, and absolutely real. A small puddle was forming around his boots. One of the baristas blinked and nudged another. The whole café hushed to a perceptible degree. The rain was still seething outside, but inside there was a sudden bubble of wonder. Someone was filming on their phone.

He gave her a sheepish, lopsided grin.

“Changed my plans, didn’t I.”

He stepped closer cautiously, as if he was afraid she might vanish if he moved too fast. “You were gonna surprise me, weren’t you? Come back early. But I figured… maybe I should be the one doing the surprises this time.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. “Also, I’ve got this stupid ring that set off security, and your sister-in-law may have masterminded an entire emotional heist, so… Yeah. Surprise.” He was breathing fast. From the travel. The storm. The nerves. But his eyes were locked on hers. Waiting. Hoping. Her mouth was still open with shock. He spread his arms.

“Hi, Pia.”

She leapt up and suddenly she was clinging to Vic like a monkey, her bare legs around his hips, her arms warm and strong across his back, her breath urgent and hot into the crook of his neck.

Vic staggered back half a step with an “oof!”, but he caught her, his arms circling instinctively, greedily, lifting to carry her weight. She was damp and alive and radiant, and her athletic body pressed into him with such fierce longing it made his knees tremble. He could feel her heartbeat hammering against his chest, her breath against his throat, her thighs locked around his hips like she couldn’t bear to let him go again. She smelled like damp cloth and coffee and a hint of her sea-salt perfume, like home, like freedom.

“Bloody hell, Pia!” he gasped, dazed, grinning. “You trying to kill me?”

One of the baristas clapped her hands over her mouth. Another pointed and whispered in excited Japanese. Two or three people were filming now. Victor never noticed. He leant into Pia’s hair, whispering rough against her ear.

“I’ve missed you so much it’s stupid. I came here thinking I’d do some big speech and drop to one knee. Now I’m just praying I don’t drop you. Will you let me hold you like this forever?”

Pia was crying hot and happy tears. "You're stupid, Vic! Why did you come here when I'm going back tonight? I mean tomorrow. But probably not until Thursday. It's so good to see you!" She nearly wailed, and her tears flooded Vic’s hoodie. The full force of her toned physique was clenching him into her core, her vulnerability. "Oh, Vic!"

He held her tighter, his arms drawing around her like he could shield her from everything, storms, sorrow, the awful ache of missing someone so much it twisted in your gut. Her tears hit his shoulder in staccato bursts, sneaking past his hoodie, into him. He didn’t care. Not even a little.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, breath catching. “It’s stupid. It’s reckless. I should’ve waited. But Hikaru texted and, Pia, I needed to see you. I couldn’t sit still another bloody day.” Her grip on him was ferocious, almost trembling with the effort. He rocked her a little, their bodies a single tangle now, damp and shivering and incandescent with everything they knew about each other unspoken between them. “I kept dreaming of you. Even when I was awake.” He eased her down safely, and cupped her face in both hands, thumbs brushing the tears from her cheekbones. Her hazel-gold eyes were shining like jewels, alight with joy and disbelief. “If you were going to surprise me,” he whispered, “then I had to beat you to it.” A pulse of humour tugged at the edge of his mouth.

“Besides. You said you weren’t going to shake me out of my tree but I reckon I need to get out of my rut. Thought I’d show you I could do it.” He bent forward and pressed his forehead to hers. “And now we’re stuck in a café in a typhoon with half of Shinyurigaoka watching us like it’s a Netflix show.”

“Yeah, because you’re an idiot.” But Pia smiled like the sun.

He grinned softly. “Yeah, I am. So… What do we do now, Pia?”

Her mind swarmed with questions, which immediately spilled from her mouth.

"When did you get here? Have you got somewhere to stay? Have you eaten, Vic? I bet it was something junky. There's a nice hotel right above us, or maybe you can come and stay with Yancy and Hikaru. And me. I mean. I'm staying with them because they're family." She took his hand. "Come on, Vic. I'm on fish pie duty tonight. There'll be enough for you too. I always overcater because I can’t stand to look mean. Come and meet them. We’ll work it out. Double rations of cakes. Eimi can’t eat it all, even with her hollow legs."

Vic blinked as the whirlwind of Pia-logic hit him, concern and chaos and care all tangled in one unfiltered outburst.

“Pie duty, huh. Is that your new signature move? I got in about five hours ago. Flight diverted to Sendai. I’ve basically eaten convenience store sandwiches and despair,” he admitted, his eyes crinkling with affection. He squeezed her hand, grounding himself with the feel of her fingers, warm, slim, still trembling a little from the adrenaline. “I was gonna stay in a hotel but, honestly, I didn’t plan anything. I figured I’d just wander the streets like a drenched romantic idiot ‘til I found you.”

“Achievement unlocked, Vic!” she teased him.

The rain battered the windows like a living thing, but inside the café, time had curled around the scene. They were a tableau now. A couple glowing with improbable joy. The baristas had stopped even pretending to work.

Vic looked down at her, utterly disarmed. She was flushed and beautiful and alive in a way that made his chest feel too small for his heart. “I’d love to meet your family. I mean. Properly. If they’ll have me. Even if it means a hill hike in a monsoon.”

“It’s not that far, Vic, even in this weather!”

He touched her cheek gently. “Then lead the way, Pia Reese. Let’s go home.”

<<To be continued...>>

Chapter 97: After the Deluge

Pia picked up her bags of groceries, gave the sack of Eimi’s cakes to Vic, and took his hand to lead him out into the storm. Despite the appalling weather her steps were light and joyful as she led Vic along the pedestrian plaza, across the access road, and up the Maple arcade. Vic toted his luggage, hoping some clothes inside were still dry. But all that really mattered was Pia’s hand in his; firm, warm, pulling him forward with the confidence of someone who knew the way.

The storm hadn’t let up. The wind tugged at their ponchos and sent little rivers racing along the narrow roads, but Pia, hair damp and clinging to her cheeks, moved with joy. Light on her feet, despite the squelch of soaked shoes, as though the typhoon was just another song she’d decided to dance to.

Vic kept pace beside her, their joined hands swinging slightly between them. They ducked into the cover of the Maple shotengai, the wind howling and clutching at the awning. A tanuki statue with a chipped sake jug watched them from the entrance of a noodle bar. The smell of broth and soy wafted out, but Pia barely paused.

“Not far now,” she said brightly, glancing back. Her eyes sparkled. A turn or two up the hill, still out of view, the pink stucco of the little Reese family home practically glowed in the murky storm light.

Vic followed her without question. Past a convenience store, across the road under the buzz of an old neon pharmacy sign, then up another narrow street, where the hedges were dripping and rainwater rushed down the gutter like a stream.

A left turn, and a right, and there it was. The Reese house. Pink stucco, cheerful and unexpected against the dark grey skies, like it had been painted during a happier season and refused to fade. The name sign was in English and Japanese, moulded into a metal plaque the shape of a perky Squirrel Nutkin.

“That’s it?” Vic asked softly. They paused for a New York minute.

Pia nodded. “That’s home. For now. For one more day. Maybe two, or three, depending on how the flight disruption will shake out after the storm. Did you get an open return?”

Vic shook his head absently, ignoring her query for another sudden mental hook.

“Why is the sign a squirrel?”

Pia grinned. “It’s a visual pun. The Japanese word for squirrel is risu. The Japanese pronunciation of Reese is riisu. Also squirrels are cute.”

Vic looked at her. Her sparkling eyes, storm-slicked face, the flushed cheeks, the way she was smiling at him. He stepped closer.

“You’re mad. And you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now,” he said simply. “Soggy. Smudged. Storm-blown.” His face broke into a crooked grin. “I think I’m gonna propose. But maybe not with a dripping bag of cakes in my hand.”

"Just fuccing do it, Vic!" Pia said vehemently. Her leg jerked as if it wanted to stamp her foot for emphasis.

Vic froze for a second. His eyes widened. Then a disbelieving, radiant grin broke across his face like the sun punching through clouds.

“What!? Right here? Right now?”

She was defiant, soaked, glorious. Her chest heaved from the emotion, her cheeks were flushed, her hair was plastered to her skull, and he had never loved anyone more fiercely. He handed her his shopping bag and reached into his hoodie pocket. Then paused.

“Wait, nope, wrong side, hang on, it’s somewhere…”

Vic fumbled into the side-pocket of his rucksack, yanked free a ring box that was damp from the weather, and very much jostled by public transport. He dropped to one knee on the wet, narrow pavement.

The storm roared. He looked up at her, utterly soaked, his heart in his throat.

“Olympe Viola Reese,” he said, breath catching, voice cracking on the edges of laughter and wonder. “Pia, you wild, brilliant, stubborn, beautiful woman. Will you marry me?”

"How many babies do you want?”

Vic blinked. His mouth fell open. A beat of stunned silence. The rain lashed harder.

“Sorry, is that yes?”

Pia was looking at him with storm fire in her eyes, serious and full of mischief, with her heart cracked open and glowing. He let out a breathless laugh, still on one knee in a stream of rainwater, the ring box trembling slightly in his hand.

“God, I love you.” Still kneeling, grinning up at her: “I dunno. Two? Three? I mean, you’re competitive, you’ll probably say four just to win. I’ll take however many come with your eyes and your stubborn streak.”

A moment.

“But we could start with one. Or maybe a dog? Or a cat that hates me and sleeps on your side of the bed.” He held up the ring box again. Water dripped from his sleeve. “Just say yes before I get washed away and drown.”

"Two or three is what I was thinking, Vic. More if we feel like it. Yes!” She laughed in her joy. “Put your ring on my finger. Even if it's just from a tin of sardines. I say yes!" She pulled him up from his kneeling pose, to stand next to her.

Vic let out a raw, beautiful sound, half-laugh, half-sob, as if her yes punched the air out of his lungs in the best possible way. He fumbled the box open with trembling fingers. “It’s not from a tin of sardines, but that would’ve been on brand for me.”

Inside was a distinctive ring, a platinum band set with a sea-green emerald, Asscher cut to best reveal the gold inclusions which sparkled like her eyes in sunlight. The kind of ring that whispered unique instead of shouting expensive. Mindful. Unmistakably Pia.

Hands shaking, he slid it onto her finger, the fit perfect, thanks to Hikaru’s advice. He cupped her face in both hands, forehead to hers again, their breaths mingling.

The ring wasn't anything like the art deco piece Pia had envisaged but instantly it was absolutely, totally right. Completely Vic and Pia. She began to cry again, happy tears mixing with the rain on her cheeks.

“You said yes. We’re getting married.” He kissed her.

Right there in the street, under a typhoon sky. With wet luggage at their feet, pink stucco glowing behind them, and the whole mad, miraculous world suddenly lined up like a conjunction of lucky stars.

She pointed wordlessly at the entry phone, making button pressing gestures.

Vic glanced at her finger, the emerald winking under the stormy sky, the water running down her arm, and then up at her face. Tears again, the kind people cried when they realised they were safe. When they'd come through the fire and somehow found a garden on the other side. He didn’t speak. Just held her hand, kissed her knuckles, and nodded.

“Yeah. Me too.”

She gestured wildly at the intercom and her eyebrows jiggled urgently like her brain had temporarily fallen out of her head. Vic grinned, stepped back, and pressed the call button for the Reese household like a man announcing his destiny.

The tinny speaker crackled to life.

“Moshi moshi?” came Hikaru’s bright voice, undercut by what might have been a squeal of toddler laughter and a kitchen timer going off.

Vic leaned in and spoke, his voice pitched casually, “Hi, it’s Victor. I’ve just proposed to your sister-in-law in the street. May we come in and bake a pie?”

A moment’s silence.

Then a burst of sound, laughter, shocked Japanese, more laughter, and a tiny voice in the background shouting “Pia pie! Pia pie!”

“Come in!” Hikaru said. “Quickly! Before you dissolve.”

Vic turned back to Pia, hsi face bright, wet, overwhelmed.

“Shall we?”

"Come on."

Hikaru flung the front door open, beaming like she’d been holding in this joy for days. She wore an apron over yoga pants and a tee-shirt. Behind her, Eimi was bouncing barefoot in the hallway chanting something that sounded suspiciously like “Uncle Bee-kuuuuu!”

Pia nudged Vic up the last step with the flat of her palm, practically shoving him into the genkan.

“Here’s my fiancé. Vic. He’s a big idiot but we love each other.”

Hikaru gasped in mock outrage and threw her arms around him anyway, tight and warm and squeezed hard. “O-kaeri!” she said, fierce and tender all at once. “Welcome home, idiot fiancé. You’re soaked. You must have a bath.”

“Hi,” Vic said, dazed, grinning. “I’m carrying pie ingredients and emotional baggage.”

Hikaru cackled, grabbed a towel, and began patting his hair with maternal efficiency. Pia was immediately handed a pair of fluffy socks by a tiny, shrieking Eimi, who then flung her arms around both of them in a toddler hug that almost knocked Vic backwards again.

Yancy appeared in the hallway, blinking and flexing an eyebrow.

“So, this is the surprise visitor,” he said dryly. “Didn’t think you’d propose in the middle of a typhoon. Well played.” He held out his hand for a man-to-man shake. “I’m Yancy.”

Vic huffed a breathless laugh. “I didn’t think I’d do anything right up until she told me to.”

Pia, flushed and damp and radiant, looked around the little hallway of her borrowed home. Her brother watching with warm eyes, her dear sister-in-law beginning to cry with joy, and her little niece wrapped around Vic’s leg.

Vic, her idiot, her rock, her future.

Pia’s voice cracked, quiet and proud.

“We’re getting married.”

The End