Chapter 06


    Natsuo gently laid the girl down on his futon. With the strap torn, the bodice of her dress hung down, leaving her bra exposed. He glanced away as he pulled the fabric back up. His eyes narrowed at the wound on her lip that looked as if someone had bitten her.


    Did someone attack her? Would she think he was the one that did it when she woke up?


    He opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. Adrenaline was pumping through his body and his heart raced. He paced on the balcony, looking over at the girl every minute.


    Finally, the knock on the door he had been waiting for came. He hurried across the apartment to the door.


    “Ishii-sensei! I’m so sorry to call you this late. Thank you for coming,” Natsuo greeted the middle-aged Japanese woman with the honorific term sensei, reserved for teachers and doctors.


    “It’s alright. I was just finishing my shift at the hospital. Where is she?” she asked, slipping off her shoes and stepping into his apartment. In the small space, she spotted the girl on the futon immediately. She sat down next to her, picking up her wrist to check her vitals. A small gasp escaped as she noticed the bruises. “Tell me again what happened.”


    As she bandaged the wound on her head, he told her everything he knew. He got a lecture for moving her from the street, as she could’ve had a serious injury. Then, he told her his thoughts on what happened to her before she ran out of the station.


    “I was thinking the same thing. I’m hoping we find out we’re wrong when she wakes up, though.” She looked at him with a frown on her face. “Why don’t you step outside and I can check if…”


    “No!” Natsuo protested. “She should have a choice in being checked…there.”


    She chuckled a little, seeing the blush that appeared on his face. “If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t leave this poor girl here. If you treat her with even a small percent of the kindness and respect that you treat my Sayuri with, then she is in wonderful hands. I haven’t thanked you for helping with that problem with her manager.”


    “It’s nothing. Anyone would’ve done it,” he replied.


    “Not everyone. There were plenty of people in the room who did nothing when he demonstrated how it was an accident and he grabbed her chest a second time.”


    “He did it again? In front of everyone?” Natsuo felt the disgust in him growing.


    “That disgust in your voice is how I know this girl will be okay in your care.” She smiled. “Now, I don’t see any serious signs of worry except the obvious, but that can be dealt with once she wakes up and can tell her story. Do you have a large shirt or something I could put her in? She can’t wear this dress anymore.”


    He hurried over to the dresser, thumbing through the shirts in the top drawer. Pulling out a large black shirt from their concert tour last winter. Unfolding the shirt revealed on the back, a pair of large white angel wings designed to resemble those of the wearer. The front of the shirt had the words ''Sacred Boys'' written in gold, along with the image of the back of a blonde-haired angel, nestled between the words. Holding up the shirt to himself, he turned to show her.


    “That’s perfect. It’s only a little shorter than the dress she has on now,” she said.


    Handing the shirt to her, he walked out onto the balcony. He looked out at the city, his heart still racing. He replayed what had happened again in his mind. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been standing outside the station?


    “You can come back in,” she called to him.


    He walked back into the room, seeing that the girl was now covered in a blanket. Ishii-sensei had folded up the purple starlight dress and placed it next to the futon. She stood frowning at the sleeping girl.


    “When she wakes, try to keep her calm. Call me if anything changes, or if she doesn’t wake up by lunch tomorrow,” she instructed, as she headed for the door.


    “Thank you again for coming,” he said, following her.


    “For now, I won’t tell anyone in the company. Quite a scandal, popular idol injures foreigner. I don’t think that poor girl needs that added to her troubles.”


    “I will. Thank you,” Natsuo said, bowing as she walked out the door.


    He stared at the door after he locked it. It didn’t occur to him there could be negative consequences on her because of who he was. Maybe he should’ve just taken her to the hospital and left her in Ishii-sensei’s care. She would have kept everything confidential. What was he thinking? What was he going to do when she woke up?


    He looked over at the girl. Pooky had curled up next to her. It felt like she was protecting her, just in case he got any ideas. That was why she was there. He wanted to protect her, make sure she was safe. He didn’t know if the person she might’ve been running from would find her in the hospital. At least when she woke up, she could decide for herself.


    He picked up his Walkman and earphones from the floor, slipping the earphones in his ears. Pressing play, he sat down on the couch. He always listened to his burned disk of American songs when he was feeling down or needed to capture the feeling of love for a role or song.


    He looked down at the girl in his bed. Even before Ishii-sensei said anything, he worried it might’ve been a suicide attempt. The ripped dress hinted that something bad enough just might’ve happened to her.


    Seven’s head hurt. She moved her hand up from under the blanket to touch her forehead and felt a bandage. Her eyes shot open. Through the slowly growing light, she stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above her. As the fog in her vision cleared she turned her head to the side and he gaze fell on an unknown man sleeping on the couch next to her.


    She sat up in shock, grabbing her head as the quick motion made her head throb. Seeing her dress folded on the floor next to her, she jerked her head down to see what she was wearing. A T-Shirt she had never seen before. She could only assume that the man who was asleep put it on her. One of her hands pressed against her shoulder while the other against her hip. She sighed in relief, feeling the bumps of her bra and underwear.


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    She stood up quietly, trying not to wake him. She looked around, seeing that there was no one else in the small apartment except the dog that was sitting at her feet, staring up at her.


    Making her way to the door, she saw her shoes placed neatly next to the man’s shoes. She picked up the shoes and as she tried to open the door as quietly as she could. The dog barked loudly at her. She turned towards the dog, holding her finger to her mouth to hush it, but her eyes fell on a gray, white-nosed stuffed rabbit sitting on top of the television.


    A memory flashed in her mind: being carried and a stuffed rabbit slipping out of her hands. The memory made her head spin, and she fell towards the ground.


    “Daijoubu?” The man caught her before she hit the ground. Seeing she didn’t understand Japanese, he switched to English. “Are you okay?”


    Seven opened her eyes, looking at the unfamiliar ceiling again. A second later, remembering she was in a strange place with a strange man, she sat up. The little brown dog jumped up on her lap, stretching to lick Seven’s face.


    “Be careful or you’ll fall again.”


    The man’s voice caused her breath to catch and fear washed over her. Her eyes shot to him as he stepped cautiously out of the kitchen towards her. He held his hands up, seeing he was scaring her.


    “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. That’s Pooky,” he said, motioning for the dog to get down.


    “A-and who are you?” she asked, raising a hand to her aching head as Pooky jumped up onto the couch.


    “My name’s Natsuo. You hit your head last night, so I took you home.” He sat down on the couch.


    “Home?” she repeated, her fingers exploring the bandage on her forehead again.


    “After you hit your head, a friend who is a doctor came to check you. She put the bandage on and told me to watch you.” He noticed her glance down at his shirt that she was wearing, then at the dress folded next to her. “She also put you in one of my shirts… your dress was ripped...”


    “Ripped?” A sudden memory of pressure around her wrist caused her to look down at them. The phantom sensation passed as her eyes focused on the bruises. Her other hand quickly grabbed her wrist to cover it, but there were bruises around her other wrist as well. She took a deep breath as her hands shook. “W-what was your name again?”


    “Natsuo. What hap-” He stopped himself as the pit in his stomach grew deeper, watching the memories return to her. He wanted to know, but this wasn’t the time. “What’s your name?”


    “It’s-” A phone rang, cutting her off.


    He picked up his phone from the couch, seeing it was Sayuri. He answered, knowing if he didn’t, she’d come over.


    “What do you want?” he asked sternly in Japanese, as he jumped over the couch to talk by the front door. He hoped if she thought he was in a bad mood, she’d keep the call short.


    As he talked on the phone in Japanese, Seven looked around the apartment, trying to get her bearings. The little dog was staring demandingly at her from the couch, wanting to be petted.


    “Pooky was it? Am I okay here?” she asked the dog as she pet her.


    She noticed the gray white nosed rabbit sitting on the television near her. Standing, she took the rabbit in her hands, but dropped it as dizziness washed over her. She made her way to the couch, grabbing her head again as it throbbed.


    “Are you okay?” Natsuo asked, hanging up his phone.


    “Yeah, just a little dizzy,” she answered, pulling at the shirt to cover more of her thighs.


    “I just want to make sure you know you’re safe here,” he said, slowly sitting on the couch next to Pooky.


    “I feel that.” She smiled as she petted Pooky between them. “Can you tell me how I hit my head?”


    “I was outside the train station when I saw you run out into the street. A motorcycle was heading right for you. I ran out and pushed you out of the way. You hit your head when you hit the ground.”


    She looked down at her hand, still pulling at the shirt. Seeing the blood from scratches on her thigh, more flashes of what happened with David rushed back to her. Her body shook, and she felt tears welling up. She never wanted to cry in front of anyone, so she took another breath to push the memory away.


    His heart broke watching her shake, and the worry inside him built up again. He had to know what happened.


    “I hope you don’t mind, but can you tell me what you were doing in the middle of the street?” he asked as gently as he could.


    “I had a fight with a friend of mine,” she said, looking at the futon at their feet. “When I… tried to get away, they tried to stop me… my dress ripped. I felt scared… I ran. My legs stopped working...”


    She let that much of the truth in, not wanting to believe that her childhood friend did what he had.


    He felt that was only part of the truth, but pushing her didn’t seem the best thing to do. “Is that what happened? I thought you were trying suicide!” He feigned relief in his voice, closely watching her reaction.


    “What? No! My legs just gave out,” she assured him.


    Her reaction seemed genuine, so she hadn’t tried to hurt herself. He needed to know more. “Your friend didn’t hurt you, did he?”


    He noted the flicker of her eyes when he said ‘he’ before she looked at him with a baffled expression.


    “Why do you care?” she asked, suspicious.


    Her reply caught him off guard, and his thoughts froze. He couldn’t tell her he’d been dreaming about her all his life. “Well, since fate threw you in my path, I just wondered who you were, and what happened that made our paths cross.”


    “Who I am?” she repeated. Her face filled with dread. “I need to get back!”


    She stood up quickly, but sat back down, overwhelmed with dizziness.


    “Relax! Just sit back a little longer. Where do you need to go?” he asked.


    “The apartment we’re staying at. I’m on a trip with my friends and we have to go back home. My friends… Aya must be so worried about me.” Her head pounded again.


    “Where are you going back to?” he asked.


    “California,” she replied.


    “Okay, first, when are you leaving?” His heart sank. He just met the girl of his dreams, literally, and she was going back to another country.


    “If it’s Friday now, then the plane is tomorrow night.”


    “You have time, so sit back and relax with me, okay? You need to rest.” He smiled, trying to reassure her.


    She let out a deep breath. “You’re right…”


    “Good. Now, where are you from?” he asked.


    “Um a little town in California.” She nervously scooped her hair behind her ear.


    Her long blonde hair laid across her shoulders, framing her face bringing out her green eyes. She looked so cute in his T-shirt that had to be two sizes too big on her petite frame.


    “Hello?” she said, waving her hand in front of his face.


    “Sorry… what did you ask?” He blushed a little.


    “Can I use your bathroom?” She looked at him suspiciously again.


    “Yes, it’s the door over there,” he answered, pointing.


    “Thanks.” She stood, unsteady at first, as she crossed the apartment to the bathroom.


    He watched her, nervous that she was going to fall over again. His eyes drifted down and he noticed that with each step, the shirt was scrunching up on her hips. He stared at her thighs for a heartbeat before realizing that he’d soon have a great view of her underwear.


    “Wait!” he called after her.


    “What is it?” She looked back at him from the opened door to the bathroom.


    He quickly grabbed a pair of black sweatpants from his dresser, scolding himself for looking at her as long as he had. He told her she was safe, but he was no better than the person who left those marks on her wrists.


    “Wear these...” His voice faded as he looked away from her, holding the sweats out for her to take.


    “Thank you.” Her hand shook a little as she took them. “Anything else?”


    “Yes…” He looked at her, realizing he hadn’t gotten an answer yet. “What’s your name?”


    “Seven,” she answered.


    “Seven? What a great name.” He smiled.


    She smiled back and walked into the bathroom.


    His phone rang again. He looked at his phone, seeing it was Sayuri again.


    “What?” The smile on his face was in his voice as well.


    “Natsunii! What’s going on? You hung up on me before!” She sounded mad.


    “I’m busy!” His smile only widened. He walked over to the couch, picking up the rabbit. “Isn’t that right, bunny?”


    “Tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded.


    “Well, the truth is...” His eyes fell on the rabbit’s right bottom paw. His mouth dropped open.


    “Natsunii?”


    “I’ll call you later Sayuri…” He hung up the phone and dropped it on the futon. He stared at the rabbit’s right bottom paw. “Seven…”


    “Yeah?” she said, closing the bathroom door.


    “Nothing.” He quickly put the rabbit back on the sofa. “How are you feeling?”


    “I’m feeling better. I think I should get back to my friends soon.” She picked up her dress from the ground.


    “Please stay a little longer,” he pleaded as his phone rang again.


    “What?!” he answered, exasperated, and turning his back to Seven.


    “I-I’ve bothered you enough…” Seven quietly said, walking to the door and putting her shoes on.


    He talked to Sayuri quickly in Japanese, telling her he’d tell her everything someday, but now wasn’t the time.


    Seven opened the door to leave, catching the word itsuka from what he was saying.


    “Itsuka isshoni…” she whispered as her face filled with shock. That voice…it couldn’t be.


    Panicked, she walked out into the hall, shutting the door behind her. She stopped only when she got outside the apartment, having no idea where she was.


    Natsuo hung up on Sayuri again and hurried after Seven. He caught up with her staring at the ground in front of the apartment. Her face was pale, and she clenched the shirt she wore with both hands.


    “What is it?” he asked.


    “I don’t know where I am,” she replied. She turned to him and smiled sheepishly.


    “I can take-” His stomach growled. “I’ll take you where you need to go, but can you do me a favor? I haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday, and I’m starving. Will you have breakfast with me?” He coaxed, not waiting to let this moment slip out of his fingers. He had to confirm if he was right about who she was.


    “I really need to go…”


    “Please! Payment for saving your life… have breakfast with me,” he pleaded.