“So, we’re all gay. What the hell are the odds of that?” I stared at her wordlessly. She had a point. “This table must encompass literally 70% of the lesbians in Japan. We’re like a messed up American TV show.”

“Huh?” I asked the woman in confusion.

“Yeah! We’re like ‘Lickin’ the Beaver’ or the ‘Gaydy Bunch’.” She enthused.  “Ow!” She yelped as Akira’s elbow jabbed her in the ribs. “What’d I do?”

“Please excuse her. She’s…broken.”

“Wait,” Mirai held her hands up in alarm. “Who’s gay, now?”

“See?” Sachi growled, jabbing her glass of whiskey meaningfully toward the rest of us. “That’s what I’m talking about. We are not unicorns. There are quite a few lesbians in Japan and the world! Why should we hide ourselves?”

“Sacchan, you really shouldn’t drink that sort of thing when we have a speech to give,” Akari scowled. I couldn’t help but agree. Sacchan was fiercely protective of those she was close to at the best of times. When she drank whiskey, she became something akin to a tigress protecting her kittens whether they needed or wanted said protection. While, in theory, that wasn’t such a bad thing, in practice it inevitably caused problems.

“I’m fine, Akari,” Sachi patted Akari’s hand reassuringly. A statement which, judging by the look on her face, Akari did not believe in the slightest. “But what you said, Minji, you are righter than you know.”

“I am? Damn right I am! See?” Minji grinned at Akira.

“We are pushed down,” Sachi drained her glass and leaned forward. “We are buried under a trillion tons of societal bullshit and ‘normal’ expectations.”

“I never said that but preach on, sister!” Minji giggled.

“Goddammit, Minji,” Akira sighed, raising her eyebrows meaningfully toward Sachi.

“What?” Minji asked, her face a mask of innocence.

“Did you know many Samurai were in pederastic relationships?” Sachi turned to me and I shrugged, not entirely sure what a ‘pederastic’ relationship was, but relatively certain it was not something I wanted to look up. “Hell, it was common! Oda Nobunaga himself had a relationship with some page or something. Up until Japan embraced ‘modernity’ homosexuality was not a big deal. It wasn’t encouraged, but it certainly wasn’t discouraged. Now? We’re hammered every day. Every single godfuckingdamn day with this idea we need to conform with what a bunch of old fucks have decided is the ‘proper’ way to do things.

“Now we’re expected to pop out a goddamn pup every two years like a fucking baby factory,” Sachi had seriously begun to rant, and I sat back with my drink to watch the show. She often made good points, but as her anger level increased her use of colorful descriptors also increased exponentially. I had once watched her go on a two-hour long rant against the higher prices of pink razors that ended with literally every word she said having some derivation of ‘fuck’ in it.

“Why was it good enough for Oda Nobunaga but we’re treated like second-class citizens because we’re gay? Why?” Sachi stared at each of us in turn. “Because he had a dick? Is that it? Is it a male thing?”

“Fucking BL shit,” Minji mumbled angrily. “You’d think in a group of lesbians I could get away from that crap. Is nothing sacred?”

“That’s what you get,” Akira sighed at her, returning to her own drink.

“Eh…onee chan, you may want to curb your…sass,” Koemi hissed.

“Why?” Sachi growled. “You should back me up with this, Koemi! You of all people! Besides, what do I care what a bunch of oppressive culture wonks think?”

“Because those ‘wonks’ are the press and I will become more than a bit cross at my wife if she continues down this particular path at this wholly inappropriate time, Sacchan,” Akari smiled, her words belying the warmth in her smile. “This is not a courtroom debate; this is a celebration.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Sachi sighed, Akari pulling her successfully from the edge in a way only she could. “But this isn’t over! Mark my words!”

“Yes, yes, consider them marked, Sacchan,” Akari patted her hand patiently.

“What have you been up to since taking the midnight train out of Tottori, your Highness?” Komari asked me as Akari finished defusing the Sacchan bomb.

“I took the midday train, thank you very much,” I sniffed. “I finished high school and college and now work in the…art…industry.”

“Ah, cool. What kind of art?” Komari fixed me with the stare I had grown accustomed to when I worked at her manga shop. The stare which said in no uncertain terms she knew unequivocally I was not be wholly truthful.

“Well, you know…er…this and that,” I mumbled, digging into my egg rolls.

“You’re a porn actress, aren’t you?” Komari blinked at me.

“Who’s a porn actress?” Minji interjected quickly.

“This one,” Komari gestured to me.

“I am not a porn actress!” I snapped.

“She’s not, I would recognize her,” Minji nodded.

“See?” I gestured to the Korean girl.

“True, Minji would know,” Komari peered closely at me. Uncomfortably close. “So, if you’re not a porn actress what are you? A nude model?”

“No! I-I draw females for some porn games is all,” I finished lamely.

“Anything I would know?” Komari asked, eyes flashing with interest.

“Eh…Waifu Breed Village, maybe?” I shrugged, unable to meet her eyes and fully incapable, suddenly, of lying.

“Oh! I like that one! Coulda done without the dude, but it is what it is. Like Nekopara. Fuck that baker prick, I’d pay to get a lesbian version without his gimpy ass. Wait!” Minji suddenly realized what I’d said and clapped her hands excitedly. “You did the female nudes for Waifu Breed Village? Those were amazing! Aunty Chika should have had pubic hair, though. Just saying.”

“I said that!” I snapped. “You get it!”

“Of course! She’s an auntie who works on a farm! What would be the point of shaving? She works all day with goats and cows and yaks and shit and then comes home to wash off the grime and just happens to shave the kitty. I think not. Immersion breaking, I tell you,” Minji nodded. “Other than that, the artwork was amazing!”

“You get it! Thank you,” I smiled at her warmly. “Evidently focus groups seem to think most people who buy the game want everything shaved.”

“You mean middle-aged men who want to pretend Auntie Chika’s 12, right? Sick fucks,” Minji shook her head. “’Focus group’ my ass. Give me a woman with some cushion! Right Akira?”

“Don’t drag me into your depravity,” Akira shot her a look of displeasure.

“She agrees,” Minji shrugged. “She’s just shy.”

“So, outside of drawing hairless mons pubis what else do you do?” Komari asked, dragging the conversation back precisely where I did not want it to be.

“Well, I work a lot. I still do karate, I teach from time to time at a dojo near my apartment and that’s about it,” I replied with a sigh, not surprised by people’s disdain for my current profession.

“You never came back to Tottori,” Komari said flatly, a statement more than a question.

“Oh! We live in Tottori!” Minji grinned, gesturing to Akira. “If you ever get back in town, come to the café! We’ll hook you up with a room, too! You’ll…absolutely…ehhh…tolerate, Sayuri!”

“Stop butting into other people’s conversations,” Akira snapped at Minji.

“I was invited into the conversation, thank you very much!” Minji sniffed.

“Whatever. Come on, let’s get something sweet, I’m falling asleep,” Akira grumbled, dragging Minji with her.

“You should come back once in a while,” Komari said, sipping her drink while Rei went back for another plate of sausages.

“Why?” I asked, the word coming out far more harshly than I intended.

“Why not?” Komari asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I know shit didn’t end well but sometimes a little closure can go a long way. Besides, you have friends there.”

“No,” I retorted, my anger rising unbidden. What the hell did she know? It wasn’t her life that was ripped up and tossed away like an out-of-date bus route. “I had friends there. They turned their back on me or were exiled when they didn’t.”

“What about me?” Komari leaned forward. “What about Mizuki? What about your sister? Look, I get I don’t know what exactly happened and you didn’t ask for my advice. I’ll let it go and won’t burden you with my phone number, but Rei has it if you ever need it. I promised I’d keep your secrets and I’ll continue to do so, but six years is a long time, Princess.” She smiled at me and climbed to her feet. “Time for some cake, I think.”

“Are you ok?” Nanami asked, pulling herself away from the conversation Koemi and Sachi had roped her into.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Just need to go to the bathroom.” She smiled wanly at me, plainly not believing a word I said. “Excuse me.”

When did I become such a terrible liar? I asked myself as I made my way through the throngs of people toward the restroom at the far end of the ballroom. I used to be much better, I thought as I got into the inevitable line.

Despite what Komari said I wasn’t running away from Tottori. At least not anymore. That was years ago and not running toward something was not the same as running away from it. What good would going back achieve? What could I say if I even wanted to go back? My parents wanted nothing to do with me and Komari was right in one thing: six years was a long time.

A long time to move on. To set aside what had happened and get on with my life. Sure, things hadn’t gone exactly to plan thus far, but I had done it mostly on my own. My life wasn’t perfect, but it was my life, and no one could take that away from me.

Going back would accomplish nothing but dredge up rotten memories that were best left buried at the bottom of the sea and ancient wounds that a trip to the sand dunes were not likely to heal. The world moved on whether we wanted it to or not, and we moved with it or were crushed under its weight. No, Tottori was something best left where it was. My life wasn’t perfect, but a stroll down memory lane certainly wouldn’t make it any better.  

The line to the bathroom was moving at a glacial pace and there were a pair of older women in front of me who had, evidently, bathed in a floral perfume I was unfamiliar with. By the time the Disneyland-sized queue reached the elegant interior of the bathroom itself I was light-headed and feeling rather nauseous.

“Sensei?” A voice behind me said as I was washing my hands. I glanced up out of curiosity as I certainly wasn’t anyone’s teacher and found a small, wide-eyed girl dressed in an elegant gown staring at me. My mind instantly searched for a match for the girl’s face. Please, I thought, don’t let her be an ex. There was no way I could handle that sort of drama right now, I decided. No matter how hard I tried I simply couldn’t place her. Which made things a bit awkward, but certainly no less so than if she was to turn out to be an almost certainly jilted former lover.