“Me?” I asked after a long moment, glancing both left and right.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She shook her head sadly. At one point I would have been conflicted on how best to answer. Was it better to lie and try to play it off as if I, of course, knew precisely who she was and try skirting through unscathed by bluffing, but risk potentially catastrophic levels of social awkwardness should my ploy fail? Or should I simply come clean and get the awkwardness over immediately? At one point in my life, I may have pursued the first path but seeing no benefit to it, I chose the latter almost without hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” I admitted.

“Takara!” She moved past her sadness in record time and beamed at me brightly. She scowled as I blinked at her blankly. “Kitashi? From karate class last year?”

“Kitashi-san?” I asked, the girl before me certainly looking nothing like the frightened creature who had first walked into the dojo where I taught.

“You remember!” The girl grinned broadly. “It’s been months! How are you?”

“I’m…well,” I replied, trying to find a way to dry my hands that didn’t involve shaking them off like a dog. “What brings you here, Kitashi-san?”

“Oh, my sister, she’s always wanting to go to these sorts of things but can’t, so she makes me go in her place.” Takara shrugged breezily. “How about you? You look amazing in that dress, by the way! I can’t recall ever seeing you in anything except your gi.”

“Ah, well,” I felt a slight blush paint my cheeks. It’s for this precise reason I didn’t want to come, though I couldn’t imagine running into someone I knew here of all places. The few people I had any sort of social interaction with most certainly did not attend these sorts of functions. “You can’t wear a gi the whole time.”

“You clean up nicely, sensei!” Takara chuckled.

“Thank you,” I smiled hesitantly at a loss for what to say in return, deciding eventually to simply go with the stock answer. “As do you! I love that skirt!” It really did look nice, I thought.

“Thank you! In my line of business, you must nail the look!”

“Ah…so you are in fashion, then?” I asked, knowing nothing and desperately hoping she’d say she was and leave it at that. I knew virtually nothing about fashion and preferred to avoid that black hole lest its event horizon drag me into the abyss.

“Sensei, sensei, sensei,” Takara shook her head sadly. “You never paid attention! I told you a few times that I’m an influencer!” I stared at her blankly. She had always been a timid girl in lessons. Once, literally, fainting before a practice spar. To think that person was a public figure of some note was quite a surprise.

Still, had she told me something like that? I couldn’t recall. I had only talked to her a handful of times and, honestly, I’d only been half paying attention as per the usual. I also had no idea what an influencer was or did. I supposed the answer was in the word itself but who did they influence and how did they influence them and for what purpose? All questions I, honestly, didn’t have an answer to. Nor did I particularly care to have the answer.

“The mind’s not what it once was,” I chuckled, tapping my head. In situations like this, I’d found self-effacing comments were usually best. Besides, it wasn’t like the statement wasn’t fundamentally true.

“You are so sexy! Your boyfriend is one lucky guy!” Takara giggled.

Ugh, I thought, straight girls. There was a woman at the bar I sometimes went to who was locked in an eternal cycle of straight girl hell. She would fall madly in love with a straight girl and start spewing all the useless tropes about how pasta was straight until it got wet and all that gibberish and then two days later would be sobbing over the latest in a long, long…long line of straight girls who wouldn’t return her affections.

I supposed it was a testament to her pig-headed determination that she would climb back onto the roof of the straight girl shinkansen a few days later only to face plant into yet another tunnel wall a short time after that, but that sort of thing just seemed like stupidity to me. It was like smashing your boob with a sledgehammer. There was no point and would only end with you looking very foolish and in pain.

Personally, I had no time for or interest in straight girls anymore. I had traveled down that road a time or two and knew exactly where it led. There were a few cabins along the straight girl road with signs like “kids”, “I was just experimenting”, “my family doesn’t approve”, and “I thought this was what I wanted.” However, at the end of the road was always the same sheer cliff face called ‘It didn’t work out”, and I had no interest in driving that highway to hell anymore.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, but thanks for saying so,” I answered, praying to whatever god happened to be close she wouldn’t say anything else about the matter.

“That’s insane! You are so beautiful! I bet the guys are beating down your door to get with you!” Takara exclaimed breathlessly, touching my arm familiarly.

“Ah ha ha,” I fake chuckled awkwardly, cursing every god in the area for not having my back. I wondered whether she was fishing for a compliment in return. “Well, I’m super busy so I don’t have the time for that sort of thing even if I was interested.” I fixed her with what I hoped was a meaningful glance. “Which I’m not.”

“I get it! I get it! I’m unattached, myself. I need to focus on me, you know?” Takara smiled, waving her hand airily. “So, what are you doing here? This is the last place I’d ever think to run into you! Excuse me saying, this doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

“You’re not wrong,” I replied. “I have family here, and was kind of forced into coming,” I replied.

This girl confused me. I never would have thought we’d had any sort of relationship, let alone the type which would allow her to correctly guess what my type of event was. Had I gotten stoned on cold medicine and developed a deep friendship with this girl I couldn’t remember? The possibility was unlikely, but, unfortunately, not necessarily zero.

“Ah! We simply must get together again! You were the best teacher I ever had! I mean, I learned so much from you!” Takara touched my arm familiarly again, her soft breast brushing against my skin. Damn treacherous straight girls, I scowled. Just because she knows me does not mean she can just grab and tease me, no matter how innocent it was.

“Oh, uh, sure, yeah,” I replied as more women strolled through the restroom to the stalls. “I really should get back to the table before whatever this announcement is happens.”

“Right? Totally! I should head back, too,” Takara smiled, sliding her arms around mine and holding it tight. “I’ll escort you!”

“Uh,” I glanced down as she took control of my arm, the soft skin of her chest visible beneath the low-cut blouse she was wearing, the swell of her breast pressed tight against my arm.

It’s unfair, I thought. It was simply monumentally unfair to be tempted like this. My sympathy for the woman at the bar traveling eternally down the straight girl road swelled. The way I figured it I could either extricate myself and give out some half-assed excuse about how I was a germaphobe, thus marking me as a suspicious person, or simply pretend I wasn’t flushing from desire to take a few steps down the straight girl road and humiliate myself.

No, I thought. I can pretend not to be a raging inferno of hormones and lust. I was human. I could control myself and laugh this off as a straight girl doing straight girl things. Just because she was grabbing my arm did not mean I could lust after her. Just because her well-shaped breast was pressing against my arm did not mean I was going to proposition her. Besides, I’d promised not to pick up on anyone.

“Ah, y-yes, that’s fine, I’d appreciate the company,” I stammered. She grinned at me broadly.

“You are so adorable, sensei!” Takara giggled. “And you have very nice breasts! They’re soft but firm! Has anyone ever told you that? How do you do it? It must be because you work out all the time! Right?”

“Uh…p-probably,” I stammered again. I will ignore this. I am a stone in the waterfall. I am an island standing firm against the raging sea. I am…I glanced over at her chest once again and sighed…I am so fucking horny, I finished the thought lamely.

We pushed through the restroom door and back into the ballroom. Fortunately, the announcement hadn’t begun yet, and people were still milling about in small knots mingling with each other. The lights were suitably low, but I could see the preparations on the stage for what would come next. As we made our way deeper into the ballroom, I felt Takara’s arm tighten about my own familiarly, giving it a squeeze. I was grateful for the low lighting as I’m certain my face was flushed with a desire to partake in what lay beneath the gauzy blouse and fashionable skirt she was wearing. Straight girls are like chocolate to a dog, I reminded myself repeatedly. Tasty and sweet, but ultimately deadly poison.

“Which table are you at, Sensei?” Takara asked curiously, glancing at me with a particularly innocent and strangely alluring look on her face.

“Uh…the, uh, the Kunoichi table,” I replied. Deadly poison, I reminded myself. Straight girls are deadly poison to lesbians.

“No way! I didn’t know you were related to someone in Kunoichi!” Takara gasped in shock, hugging my arm even tighter, pressing it now between her breasts. “Please forgive me, but I must know! Who?”

“Er…I’m Sachi and Koemi’s niece,” I replied distractedly, gaze drawn back to her chest like a moth to a flame. “More or less.”

“Here!” She fished in her bag for a moment before retrieving her phone. “Here’s my number! Give me your phone!”

“Now I have you forever!” Takara giggled as our contact information was exchanged. “We are getting together this week! We need to! Ok?”

“Uh…ok?” I returned my phone woodenly to my purse.

“Don’t forget me again! Ok?” Takara pulled away from me in what appeared to be some reluctance.

“Oh, uh, sure. No, I mean, I won’t,” I felt and, most likely, looked like a complete fool as she waved once to me and returned to a table by the window.

“Kasumi…” Nanami sighed as I returned to my seat. “I thought we discussed this.”

“What?” I hissed defensively. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Hmmm? That sounds suspicious to me. How about you, Koemi?” Nanami turned to Koemi who was plainly distracted.

“Sus af,” Koemi murmured, looking over some notes she’d written.

“I swear! I didn’t do anything this time!” I protested.

“Who was the girl, then?” She returned, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Just a student in my karate class,” I brushed her insinuation off indignantly. She considered me for a long moment, eyes narrowed.

“You two seemed pretty close after spending ten minutes in a bathroom together,” Nanami continued. “Tell me you didn’t do anything you said you wouldn’t.”

“What kind of monster do you think I am?” I gaped at her, feigning indignance. “Koemi, talk some sense into her! She’s gone crazy!”

“It’s fine, Nanami,” Koemi soothed her distractedly. “She didn’t do anything.”

“Kasumi,” Nanami sighed. “I get that you’re in that stage of your life where you’re like the jelly of the month club.”

“Huh?” I tilted my head to the side curiously.

“You want a new flavor every thirty days,” Nanami giggled. “Just, please, think of these poor girls and your own long-term mental health. It’s not good to play with people’s affections.”

“Ha!” I laughed mockingly. “I am not in the jelly of the month club! And if anything, she was toying with mine! I am the victim! I am innocent!”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Kunoichi’s manager, Hana Amano, a cheerful looking yet dangerously shrewd woman interrupted, speaking into the microphone, her voice echoing throughout the room from the speakers. “Please take your seats.” Apparently, this mysterious announcement was about to happen, I thought, glaring once more at Nanami before sitting back in my chair. Sacchan was already two sakes too deep, and I was suddenly a bit nervous over what she’d say. Well, I thought, at the very least this should be different.