My elbow was leaned on my knee, one leg over the other. My cellphone was in my hand, and I was watching Sana on it as he performed with his band. He looked so pretty here. A light blonde wig to his mid-back, curled in towards the bottom, a 1940's sort of style, reminded me of the starlet Veronica Lake. He wore a tipped red hat, and he wore a 1940's kind of dress, a cranberry color. His stockings were a dark color, and his shoes were smart looking patent black pumps. He wore his pearl necklace, and a small gold colored bracelet. His lips were a wine color, his eyes done in a classic style which matched his outfit, his eyeshadow a deep plum color as purely an accent. On his finger was a pretty ring, which I admired, gold with a pink colored stone. And his nails. No detail gone overlooked, I could see they were done in a nude color. He looked like he'd just stepped out of a film noir. 

The sound was off. I didn't want to wake him up. But, even so, I could hear his voice. It was a dusky thing for a song of this style. I watched him touch his hand to his face, close his eyes in the emotion of the song, and I let out a sigh, admiring him. He was singing "Heaven, Have Mercy" by Edith Piaf. He said Edith Piaf was like his god. He was singing an Edith Piaf song when I fell in love with him. 

He honestly was the best person who'd ever been interested in me. I remember when I told him about that. He was so shocked, appalled, when I told him about my past relationships. 

"How could anyone ever treat you like that? I can't imagine it. I don't want to imagine it. Oh, no... It won't ever happen again. I promise. I'll protect you."

I'll protect you.

I told him things that not even my mom or sisters knew. I was too ashamed to tell them. About how Kenji had cheated on me throughout our whole relationship and I just let him, because I thought I was in love. How Souta had ignored me around his friends, pretended like he didn't know me, but in private he was the nicest guy. How Goro just wanted me for sex, because he had a fetish for feminine men, and told me he was straight so we couldn't be in a relationship, but strung me along for years. How Keisuke once whipped me with a radio antenna, just snapped it right off my radio in a fit of rage, because I was too tired after traveling to go out to a movie with him. How I was single for years, because I didn't want to be treated like that anymore. Pretended like I didn't care about love anymore.

But every time Sana looked at me, I could tell he was checking on me, just this simple act, a show of love. Curious, searching eyes. Seeing if I was okay. Sometimes, I would catch him staring at me, and he'd nervously look away, like he shouldn't be looking at me, stealing a glance almost. That's how precious I am to him, and I'm grateful every day. 

Sana is so different. He doesn't think he's anything special, but he is the most special to me. When he first found me, I admit I had been depressed. Wondering why people always treated me like an object rather than someone to adore. 

I came down with the flu at the start of October. I talk to my mom on the phone every day, and she was concerned. But that's so different than having someone you romantically love. Mostly, I was hungry. A lot of times, I go out to eat with people. I don't cook for myself much. I wished someone would make miso soup for me. It's so comforting when I'm sick. So, in tears, I wrote a blog post about having the flu. I had to cancel a performance for the next day, so I apologized to fans who would have come to that. At the end of it, I mentioned wanting miso soup.

Less than an hour later, I got an email that wasn't from anyone I knew, an unfamiliar name. I opened it, and well... There he was. 

"Hello, there. How are you doing? I hope you're feeling better. My name is Morita Hiroki. I'm a jazz singer like you. I'm a good cook, and I know how to make pretty good miso soup."

I don't know why he didn't just say his name was Sana. Sana is his stage name, but he prefers it to Hiroki, which is the name he chose for himself. I don't know what his given name is, and I don't want to know. It's not important. Maybe he told me his name is Hiroki in an attempt to be formal. 

But I responded so quickly. I was intrigued. A jazz singer like me? If he was a Japanese jazz singer, how come I'd never heard of him before? I thought I knew everyone on the scene. At the very least, I betted we'd have a lot in common, both of us being jazz singers. So, I gave him my phone number in my response. Maybe I was being too trusting or naive, but I was so curious. The last sentence in the email seemed almost like a flirtatious wink, I thought. Could it be? 

After I sent it, after a few minutes, I let out a small noise of regret, my hand over my mouth. That email could have been from anybody. I didn't know this person. Why would I give out my personal phone number to them? I kind of hoped they wouldn't call. 

But then. 

My phone rang, and...there he was. I answered, and he said, "hello, this is Morita Hiroki. I'm sorry to impose, but I saw your blog post, and...are you okay?" 

He sounded just like a girl. I thought I was being duped at first, but through our conversation it became clear that he was part of the LGBTQ community, and I relaxed. He was so friendly and gentle over the phone. He talked about cooking, what he would cook for me if he could, wondered if I was getting enough nutrition with me being sick. He said he was so worried about me, this perfect stranger. We talked for an hour. Intrigued further, I asked if we could video call on the computer. I wanted to see what he looked like. He sounded so kind on the phone. I thought maybe I was moving too fast. But, there was just something... Something about him. He sounded so sincere.

When his camera turned on, I was taken aback. Sana has no idea how handsome he is. What I saw was a young man wearing a white collared button up that was cuffed up at his elbows, a silver necklace with a ball pendant around his neck. His hair was cut mid-neck length, pulled back half up and half down, flipped bangs swept just above his right eye, all a platinum bleach blonde color. He wore black eyeliner, and his ears were pierced, silver ball studs in. When he waved to me as a greeting, I could see on his wrist and extending to his forearm was a black and grey scale tattooed rose, and I'd later learn it was part of a pair, another on the other forearm. 

I was immediately attracted. My eyes must have been dinner plate sized, and my mouth was slightly open. I wondered like crazy how I'd never seen him before on the jazz scene. 

But I quickly got my answer. He told me he'd been in visual kei most of the whole time, a small local band in Osaka. They weren't very popular, and only did live performances. He didn't like to record anything, but there were a lot of their live performances on their Youtube channel. They weren't signed to any company, and mostly played the same small live houses over and over again. Now they lived in Tokyo, and had changed their style to jazz, because that was the music they liked the most, but were even less popular due to that. He even had a "day job", as he put it. He was a private violin teacher for kids, though he claimed to not have many students, and he had a front desk job at a local college. 

He told me he actually categorized himself as a classical musician. That made my curiosity level go to ten. I asked him to show me what he could do. He tapped his chin and looked to the side, and told me to wait a moment. I thought him tapping his chin was the cutest thing. 

When he came back, I leaned in to my computer. He was rosining a violin bow. Without using a tuner, he tuned his violin, listening for what he determined were the right notes. He asked me what he should play. I said to play his favorite song.

And he just... He played one of my songs. But I thought it sounded odd at first. And then I realized. 

He was playing my song, but it was my vocal part. 

I already liked him. But that sent me over the top. He was so casual about it. He'd seemed so casual the whole time. I later learned he was positively freaking out inside, and thought maybe he might creep me out by playing that song. But he was wrong. For him to have learned that for his violin. That meant so much to me. It also, I thought, meant that he was a friend. I admit, I let my guard down. Maybe, I should have been more cautious. It was honestly stupid of me to give him my address. 

But he just positively beamed on camera, his smile so kind. "I'll go buy some groceries. I'll make you some miso soup. Do you need anything else? Are you running out of anything, or want some snacks?"

I just said, "what?! Am I running out of anything? Who are you?!" Just laughing. He laughed with me, this adorable giggle. He said he was serious, and I tried to be as casual as he was, saying no, I was okay.