Free Tokyo Love by Diana Jean

done it to win over Michiko herself, she had only wanted to help. But things just seemed to fall easily into place, at that time.
    “
Ne, Yuri-chan
,”
Michiko had said, turning to her. They had been sitting on a bench in a city park, not far from their work building. The
sakura
had just bloomed, the trees bursting with pale pink and white blossoms. The petals gusted down with every breeze and the walkway and grass were dusted with them. Other people were spread out on the grass around them, mostly eating or chatting and admiring the petals.
    “
Hn?
” Yuriko looked at her.
    They had eaten lunch together every day for the last two months. Yuriko had gotten into the habit of taking Michiko's train, despite it being the wrong direction for Yuriko’s apartment. Michiko had curled her hair, framing soft waves around her face. An errant blossom had snagged itself in her fringe ten minutes ago. Yuriko hadn’t said anything about it.
    “
Have you ever kissed a girl?
”
    Yuriko had flushed, but couldn't take her eyes away from Michiko. She had never kissed anyone, but she was too shy to just come out to someone like that. She shook her head.
    Michiko smiled and slid her hand along the bench, fingers lacing with Yuriko’s. “
Do you want to kiss me?
”
    “Yes. I-I mean,
hai.
” She had said it in English. A strange habit whenever she was nervous. Her brain seemed to cross wires, switching to English when she meant Japanese and Japanese when she meant English.
    Michiko was grinning, fingers tight. “Good. Me too,” she answered in English.
    Yuriko let out a gasping giggle and Michiko leaned into her, resting her head on Yuriko’s shoulder. A strange country they lived in, where this girl that she cared about, that she wanted to kiss, could cuddle into her in such a public place. If Michiko had been a man, the old couple currently strolling easily through the park probably would be giving them dirty looks. As it was, they were ignored.
    Yuriko would kiss Michiko later, after walking her all the way to her apartment. Michiko had stood on her toes, too short even in heels, straining in the lamplight towards Yuriko.
    Yuriko tried not to think about Michiko too much. She wasn’t even working for Mashida anymore, and Michiko was married to Kenji-
san
. He was a fine man, and would take care of Michiko just as well as Yuriko had. He was someone she could introduce to her parents. He was someone that, despite not being able to touch as freely in public, she could really
be
with. No secret touches, no masquerading as just “good friends.” A real boyfriend and husband.
    It was strange to Yuriko, now that her time with Michiko had come and gone, that what she had missed the most was not the kisses in the dark or stolen touches at a
nomikai
when everyone was too drunk to care, or putting her arm around her on the train to steady her, or even holding her hand on that bench in the park. She missed that
sakura
petal stuck in Michiko’s hair and how she had never reached up to remove it.
    She wasn’t sure why she wanted to go back to that
sakura
season. What difference would it have made? Would Michiko have been too distracted to ask Yuriko the question that started their relationship? Or would Yuriko, so taken in the moment, have kissed her then? Not caring of the public space, not caring if people understood or didn’t understand that two girls could love each other, in this country that thought it was impossible. That two girls or two guys could share something as sacred and beautiful as a husband and wife. That letting them hold hands in public was almost as suffocating as shaming them for it.
    Instead what Yuriko had learned in that moment was how to hold herself in. Deny the beauty and impulse to act as she really wanted. She understood what it meant to appreciate the
sakura
for just a few short weeks, and then to hope they would come again next year.
    Yuriko opened her eyes to the early dawn light. She had opened her