“Like that sun baby; melt my heart with a bright smile – Like That Sun”

BK slowly opened his eyes.

It felt different this time.

It was warmer, more comfortable.

His eyes adjusted to his surroundings.

He could tell it was daytime, judging from the soft sunlight from the window, lending its warmth to the room.

The room was small yet cosy.

The tatami floor met with paper paned double doors and the window was adorned with sheer white curtains.

A sliding door sat at the far corner of the room.

A cupboard, he presumed.

Another single door on another side.

And nothing more.

Sparse yet strangely comforting.

He was lying on a thick warm mattress with his head on a typical hard rectangular pillow.

Japan, I am in Japan, he thought. That much I know.

But I’m from Seoul Korea.

And I remember my name. So again, why am I here? And how did I get to this room?

As if on cue, the single door to the room opened and a middle-aged lady walked in with a tub of water.

“Oh..? Okitemasuka?" She asked, noticing his opened eyes.

“Huh?”

“Aah... mate, choto mate okudasai," the little lady said

She went to the door and called out, 'Mo-chan, hayaku kite kudasai!!' and a host of other Japanese he could not understood.

I understood only ‘Mo-chan, come quickly!', he thought.

“Okasan, nani?" a voice heeded her call

Again, rapid fire Japanese ensued.

"Oh," the newcomer exclaimed, bursting into the room to come forward and kneel beside him.

It’s the little angel, he remembered.

“Okiteru?” She asked wide eyed. “I mean, you are awake?”

He could only nod.

“Come sit. Can you sit?”

And she helped him.

I’m dressed, he thought suddenly.

In a Japanese shirt of sorts.

What is it called again?

Yukata?

Aah, molla.

He ran his hand through his hair.

At least the headache was gone.

“Hajimemashite, I am Aihara Momose. This is Okasan, my mother,” the girl introduced herself.

She was small with straight china doll hair that cupped her elfin face.

Her eyes bright with curiosity and concern.

“Oh, hello,” was best he could manage.

“Your name?”

She spoke in stilted but legible English, in that cute way only Japanese girls can speak.

“Bryan, my name is Bryan.”

“Bryan…” she cocked her head, prompting him to supply his surname.

“Just Bryan,” BK replied.

She looked a little taken aback, but just barely.

“Ok, ‘Just Bryan’, how you feel?"

"I feel ok... I think."

He was still disoriented but somehow well rested.

“Where am I?”

“You not remember?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I found you, at sanpuku. Uhm… mountain, ski,” Momose explained, gesturing with her hands.

“I was skiing?”

“No, no, I found you at ski centre, mountain, on snow.”

“Really?”

“With no clothes.”

“Whaat?!”

“You have bath…” Momose struggled finding the right word, moving her arms in a closing fashion instead, “…towel.”

“Bathrobe,” BK supplied, remembering vaguely what happened.

The motel, he suddenly thought, and flashes of the love motel he ran away from, came back.

And how he got onto a truck and passing out.

The next thing he remembered was that it was cold and the truck was parked somewhere and he stumbled out to get help.

He was probably walking through the snow to the ski centre the girl mentioned.

God, BK thought, where are the boys?

Another thing he remembered was that they were all in Tokyo before, but from the looks of this place and the mention of a ski centre, certainly pointed out that he was far from the bustling cosmopolitan.

He looked down at the girl in front of him.

She was busy with the items her mother just brought in – a bowl, some lemon and soap, a wash cloth.

She spoke to her mother again, to which the older lady nodded and left.

“I wash you,” she announced without preamble, briskly pulling up her sleeves.

Unlike his and her mother’s traditional attire, the girl was simply dressed in pleated skirts and sweater.

“Whaat..?” Bryan asked in alarm, pulling his body away automatically.

Not that he would have any objections on other occasions, but given the circumstances…

Ok, let’s not go there, he thought.

“Ohh… sumimasen,” she blushed and apologised. “You wash… wash.”

She hastily pushed the big bowl of water towards him and started to get up.

Gosh, this girl is cute, he suddenly thought. Then beating himself silently.

Dude, you do not have the luxury of thinking anyone is cute at the moment.

His head was whirling with questions.

The boys. I have to find the boys?

“Excuse me, Momose? Right? Phone, can I borrow a phone?”

“Oh,” she said. “Yes, of course.”

Momose ran out of the room before stopping at the door and gave him a bright smile, “ohhh… you can call me Momo.”

And she left.

Which weirdly created a slight pang in him, making him stare at the door, willing her to come back quickly.

And she did, with a cell phone.

“Here… telephone,” Momo said before leaving him to his privacy.

“Thank you,” BK called out gratefully at Momo’s retreating figure.

After she left for the second time, he quickly dialled a Japanese number, which was met with a ‘the number you have dialled is no longer in service.’

He then dialled the only number that was at the top of his mind.

Starting with the Korean country code.

Jay.