Page 34 of Away We Go

Her blue eyes spit fire at me and I smother a chuckle. The woman is determined, I’ll give her that.

“Seriously, you can just leave it.”

We’ve been roaming the city of Kyoto for over three hours now. My travel companion has been on a mission to see and do as much as her feet will allow her, and I’ve been happy to just follow along. So far, we’ve seen the cherry blossoms in all their glory, made the trek up to Fushimi Inari Taisha, and then explored the streets of the Gion entertainment district in search of a real-life Geisha. Cherry has been soaking in every moment with the wonder of a child in Disneyland, and I’ve been soaking in the delight that is just watching her.

I’m so screwed.

“I will not be one of those tourists who insults the locals,” she says now, looking down at the mystery meat in front of her and swallowing hard. She’d wanted to go off the beaten track and eat outside the tourist traps. That’s how we found ourselves here, in a restaurant with a menu only in Japanese and a smorgasbord of unknown food in front of us. Some we can identify as salmon and tuna, but the one currently dangling from her chopsticks…it could be anything.

“I’m not sure they’ll care if you eat it or not,” I point out.

“Nope.” She pulls in a deep breath and pops the food into her mouth.

I watch her chew and chew and chew some more, clearly reluctant to swallow. I raise my brow in question as she discreetly spits her mouthful into a napkin.

“Don’t say a word.”

My hands are up in surrender. “Here, drink this.”

She grabs the bottle of Coke from my hand and finishes it in one gulp.

“Shall we go?”

We’ve demolished most of the food in front of us and I don’t want her feeling obliged to eat anything else. The last thing I want is for her to get sick.

“Yes.”

Cherry skims over the list in her hand, deciding where to go next. We established early that this day of playing tourist is all about her; given this is my third time in Kyoto, I don’t need to see or do anything while I’m here. Except, I guess, to see her happy.

“Then let’s go.”

As we leave the restaurant, Cherry is effusive with her praise. She tells the servers who I’m not sure can understand her, how amazing the food was. The servers in turn bow in a sign of respect. She bows in return to show them respect and then they bow again, and I have to pull her away before we get stuck in a never-ending loop of politeness.

“I love it here,” she sighs as we walk down a small side street. “And with the cherry blossoms blooming, it adds a magical quality to it. Don’t you think?”

She stops and looks up to me and I’m once again lost in her eyes. I’ve known her most of my life, and yet all of a sudden, I’m losing my breath from a mere glimpse of her long eyelashes. Or the way her blue eyes sparkle. Or how kissable her lips are.

Matteo would kill me if he knew the thoughts crowding in my head.

“Magical? Yes, it is.”

Yes, she is.

We stare at each other for a long moment, before I pull myself together. “Where to next?”

“The Yasaka Shrine.”

We meander down the main street towards our destination, stopping every few steps for Cherry to take a photo. She must have taken a thousand photos already today, but from the way her face lights up whenever that camera is in her hand, I just know it’s what makes her the happiest.

“Hey, what do you think that is? There are billboards about it all over Japan.”

I follow her finger to where she’s pointing. “Pocari Sweat? It’s a drink.”

“Obviously.” Her tone is droll and I grin. “But what sort of drink? It kinda sounds like they’re selling sweat.”

A laugh escapes me at this observation. I’d never thought of it that way. But then, I’m closer to the drink than she is.

“It’s a sports drink. Like Gatorade or Powerade. It’s got electrolytes to help you replenish after you sweat.”

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