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The bookshop smelled faintly of coffee and paper, a scent that made Kiriko’s chest ache with nostalgia. She trailed her fingers along the spines of paperbacks, eyes skimming titles she barely read. It was easier to focus on the quiet hum of the shop than on the dull throb of disappointment in her ribs.
Soon she’ll be back to Tokyo. Back to the same grey streets, the same routine, the same stifling hierarchy that had decided, in its infinite wisdom, that her investigation into Ainosuke Shindo had “run its course.” She had uprooted her life for this. Moved back across the ocean from the city, even endured her mother’s knowing sighs and neighbours’ gossip about the “career woman who’d come home again.”
All for nothing.
“Brilliant,” she murmured, picking up a paperback and putting it back down again.
Her reflection in the display glass looked tired, the corners of her mouth tugged downward, the set of her jaw too tight. Worse, she was single. All that overworking to be demoted by circumstance.
She turned into the next aisle, eyes flicking between covers, pretending to care about the blurbs. Maybe something to distract her for the flight. A romance maybe, though even that thought felt like salt rubbed into a wound. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone on a date, let alone fallen asleep next to someone.
Then she rounded the corner and stopped.
At first, she thought she’d walked into the wrong section. In front of the manga display, stood a woman with a gentle posture and an air of quiet calm about her. She looked like she’d make bento lunches with care and laugh at her own jokes. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail that brushed her shoulder, and she wore a pale cardigan over a sundress.
Kiriko felt her stomach twist. She was... cute. Exactly the sort of lovely, grounded beauty Kiriko had convinced herself she didn’t deserve.
Her throat went dry. She forced herself to look away, to stare at the spines of nearby books as if they suddenly demanded her full attention. But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw the woman was holding a girl's love manga.
Kiriko’s heart gave an absurd little leap that startled her enough to make her pulse stumble. She glanced away, then back, curiosity pricking despite herself. The woman was reading the back cover with a faintly amused smile, one that hinted at something private, something knowing.
Kiriko’s hand hovered near a random volume, before she held the book just high enough to make it look like she was reading, though her eyes kept sliding to the side. If she was reading GL, could that mean what Kiriko hoped it meant?
She edged a little closer, trying to look casual, pretending to compare titles. Then a little closer again. Each step both mortifying and exhilarating. She hadn’t met another queer woman in years, not in any way that mattered. At the very least, she could start a conversation.
Right. A conversation. Or flirt, even.
Uh. How did that work again?
Before she could think it through, she found herself standing far too near, practically peering over the woman’s shoulder. The manga was open to a page where two young women were kissing, and the ridiculousness of the proximity hit her a little too late.
The woman turned, surprised but composed, eyes widening only slightly before settling into polite warmth. “Ah, sorry,” she said lightly, holding up the manga. “Were you wanting to buy this?”
Kiriko jerked back so hard she nearly dropped the book. Heat rushed up her neck. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to get so close,” she blurted. “I was just… looking around.”
The woman however smiled, sweetly and unbothered. But only made the flush on Kiriko’s cheeks deepen. It wasn’t fair. Her smile was exactly the kind that could make someone forget what they were saying halfway through a sentence.
Desperate to recover, Kiriko cleared her throat. “Those books,” she said, nodding toward the manga in the woman’s hand, “they’re very cute, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” the woman replied as she closed the volume and placed it neatly back on the shelf. “I was just trying to see what new love is like these days. It’s so different than when I was younger.”
Kiriko felt a flicker of recognition that tugged at a knowing feeling old and tender inside her. “I get that. It’s definitely changing. Seems to be getting easier, at least a little, but there are still obstacles.”
She turned the book in her hands, trying not to stare too obviously, willing the heat in her face to fade. The silence that followed stretched long enough to make her nerves hum. Then, before she could stop herself, the question slipped out.
“If you’re looking at new love… does that mean you’re single?”
The woman’s eyebrows raised a fraction, eyes widening slightly again, and Kiriko’s stomach dropped. The realisation of what she’d just said hit all at once, heavy and clumsy. “Ah, I’m sorry,” she continued quickly, stepping back a little too fast. “That was far too forward of me, especially before I’ve even introduced myself.” She fumbled for composure, dipping her head. “Kamata Kiriko.”
The woman’s expression softened, her tone calm and kind. “Hasegawa Nanako.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Hasegawa-san.”
“Same here.” Nanako’s eyes then lowered for a moment before she spoke again, “But yes. I am single. My husband died a little while ago.”
Kiriko froze, mortification flooding her in a wave that made her entire body stiffen. “Oh,” she breathed. She wanted to kick herself. What a thing to ask. Of course she was probably straight. Of course.
Nanako continued thoughtfully, as if sensing the awkwardness and choosing to ease it away. She gestured lightly to the shelf beside them, where boy’s love manga were lined up next to the GL. “My interest in this,” she said, “was more-so for my son.”
Oh. A gay son? That would explain reading BL. Not...
Kiriko nodded, her mind racing with half-finished thoughts. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she managed and meant it. “And for making assumptions.”
“It’s all right. Really.” Nanako replied gently. Until, her expression brightened suddenly, eyes flicking between the row of GL manga and back at Kiriko. There was a spark of curiosity igniting almost visibly. “If it’s all right, may I ask you something a bit personal?”
Kiriko blinked, startled out of her own thoughts. “Uh… sure?”
Nanako took a step closer, and Kiriko caught the faint scent of her perfume. It was subtle and floral with something sweeter beneath it. Lavender? No, not exactly. Close to lavender. Lilacs? Violets? Whatever it was, it fit her perfectly. Kiriko’s back straightened as the smell hit her, her pulse quickening.
There was hesitation for only a moment before Nanako asked, “Are you gay?”
Kiriko almost choked. “I-I… what?” She could feel her face heating fast as the words tripped over themselves. “I mean, yes. I am?”
At that, Nanako’s whole face lit up, her hands coming together in delight. “Ah! That’s wonderful!”
Nanako’s sudden brightness drew Kiriko in before she could think to step back. The next thing she knew, her hands were caught in Nanako’s, warm and small, the touch so unexpected that it jolted through her like static. Nanako’s grin was so dazzling up close, her eyes creased with delight, her voice bubbling as she spoke.
“You’ll have to teach me,” she beamed, still holding on, as if the idea had just struck her and she couldn’t possibly let it go.
Kiriko’s brain stopped. Completely. Steam might as well have been blowing from her ears. Whatever remained of her calm professionalism shrivelled into nothing, leaving behind a heartbeat that was too loud and a mouth that didn’t know what to do with words.
“Teach… you?” she echoed faintly, half question, half survival instinct.
“Yes,” Nanako said, nodding, still too close, still radiant. Her enthusiasm seemed to spill into the air around them. “I want to understand. What it’s really like. Growing up, living as you are, loving as you do. How to be there for someone if they ever tell me the same. What to say, what not to say, how to make sure they know it’s safe.”
Kiriko could only stare. Her thoughts had scattered somewhere between the warmth of Nanako’s fingers and the sweetness of her perfume. The sound of her voice carried far too easily in the quiet shop. To the point a few heads turned.
The embarrassment snapped Kiriko back just enough to function. “Maybe,” she said carefully, forcing air into her lungs, “maybe we could talk about it somewhere more private. Like over coffee?”
Nanako stopped mid-word, blinking as though she’d just realised how much attention she was drawing. She let go of Kiriko’s hands and stepped back in a small flurry, her composure cracking just enough to be endearing.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to get so worked up.” Her voice calmed, and the corner of her mouth lifted again, but this time in a shyer smile. “But yes, I’d love to.” A pause. She looked down, then back up, a dusting of pink on her nose as she flashed a wink. “It isn’t every day I meet such a beautiful woman willing to humour me after all.”
Kiriko immediately forgot how to breathe. And for one terrifying moment she thought she might actually pass out.