Sana was breathing comfortably now. It was getting on into the night, but I didn't want to move him. He seemed so peaceful now. Essentially, earlier in the evening, he'd woken up suddenly. This alarmed my mom, who'd looked up from her mending. Her nurse instincts had flared up. My papa asked what was wrong.

Sana said it felt like his throat was closing up. We already had his purse in the living room, so my mom got his inhaler. Luckily, that's all that we'd needed to do. He took two puffs, and laid down again, all comfy and cozy. 

It worried me that he was having asthma attacks in his sleep. I wondered what we could do to make his sleeping safer. It scared me to death every time, and worrying about that whenever he slept scared me to death, too. I knew there were machines that could be used to make someone's breathing in one's sleep safer, but I didn't know if these applied to him. How do you make it safer for someone to breathe when they're having a silent asthma attack while they slept? It's something we'd have to bring up to Yokohara-sensei, and soon. What concerned me also, is that the humidifier didn't seem to be preventing anything at all. An idea that hadn't worked. This devastated me.

Now, Sana was sleeping, and I was watching him. Feeling his breaths on my body, measuring them. I felt this was all I could do. Pay more attention. Was there a difference when he started to have an attack? Maybe, shallower movements? But I couldn't have him sleep on top of me every time. Even if I figured that out, there'd still be plenty of times when we weren't sleeping in this position. And what about when I needed to sleep, too? I still felt so helpless.

I was holding my cellphone, searching on a website. I was trying to calm myself down. 

I used to really like shopping. Just spending my money on useless things that I thought made me happy. In that way, I suppose, they weren't really useless. Filling my apartment with things that made me smile. But now, I wasn't living in an apartment. My apartment was still there, still being paid for, but I was starting to think about what came next. 

I wasn't sure I'd ever go back there. The idea of going back there, being alone with Sana, honestly scared me so much. Having no one to help me if things went bad. My mom had been essential this past month or so. If I hadn't had her, I don't know what I would have done. Sana of course wanted to help take care of himself, but that was quickly not becoming an option, and I knew mentally it was hard for him to accept. 

But I also knew we couldn't stay at my parents' house forever. So, what could we do? 

So, I found myself on Amazon, looking at furniture. A big, red, velvet couch. A comfortable looking sleigh style bed. A pink armchair. 

I began thinking about our own place. Maybe, our own place near to my parents' place. A place surrounded by my family on all sides, so we could be safer. We wouldn't be alone in Tokyo, so far from everyone. It brought me comfort to think about. 

But, what would Sana want? Would Sana want that? Would it devastate him to be away from Tokyo? Away from his friends? Away from music opportunities? He'd have to quit his jobs, no more giving lessons to the students he'd come to love. No more being front desk at the college he worked for. I wasn't even sure if he was capable of doing those things anymore anyway, but was he mentally able to conceptualize that? How sad would that make him?

Because of these things, I had to be careful. I couldn't let him know what I was doing, thinking about these things. I thought maybe I might know what was best for us, a logical next step, but I had to consider his feelings. He was the most important in this, his feelings, though, knowing him, he'd be the most concerned about me and how I felt. In that way, we were taking care of each other, and this brought me comfort, too. 

As I clicked around the website, I suddenly was staring at an object which brought me pause. My eyebrows raised, and my mouth went slightly open. This was a facial expression that Sana loved on me. So cute, he'd said. 

The record player was a cherry color, standing on legs. A beautiful piece of furniture. It was an older style, something you'd find in a living room in the 1950's. The record player itself was complex, boasting that it could play any kind of record, plus it had slots for CD's and tape cassettes. Anything you could want, from MP3's to records, this could play it all. It even had a radio built in. There was even storage underneath for your record collection. 

My brain just went back to a dream. A misty thing, seeming to be from so long ago. 

In late October, I'd knocked on Sana's door. A wispy sound was coming from his apartment, and the beautiful smells of cooking. It seemed like the door to heaven in that regard. I knew he was in there, among these lovely smells, and that sound. I was so eager. I wanted to knock again. So excited to see him. I wanted to enter through the window, because he wasn't being fast enough opening the door. 

I heard the lock click, and the door handle turned. I was practically bouncing in my shoes in anticipation. He opened the door, and I let out a loud, happy noise, my smile beaming from ear to ear. His face lit up, like a star, and I almost barreled him over with my hug. 

He looked so beautiful. He was wearing a long, platinum blonde wig that was very curly. A blue bow in lolita fashion style just behind his bangs, a color called sax. His outfit was a casual lolita dress in the same color. A frilly thing, with a bow on the chest and white lace trim, with a sensible style of skirt that wasn't supported by an underskirt. He looked almost embarrassed, his face too cute, blushing a little. 

"I wanted to dress up kind of fancy for you," he'd admitted. I told him how beautiful he looked, and his blush deepened, so awkward. His smile was so adorable, as he slightly looked to the ground. 

He took my hand and pulled me inside his apartment, and the cooking smell overwhelmed me. He explained he was making something called brisket, which I'd already known from what he'd said yesterday. There were also roasted potatoes, and French cut green beans. I was going to be in for a very delicious dinner. However, he said, the brisket was still cooking. It was a slow cooked thing, and it wasn't quite ready. We still had some time. 

To be honest, all I wanted to do was shove him to the wall, pick him up, and make sweet, slow love to him. I'd been thinking about it all day. I'd been at meetings all day. Every year, my band came out with an album, and it was that time of the year where we were starting to plan it out for next year. My band members had some pretty good ideas, and my cellist told me he was thinking about a concept that could work. Something new and inviting, that our fans could get excited about. But, my mind had been far away from that stuffy office. It had been full of images of Sana, his smile, his thighs, his hands around my waist, what the soft skin of his neck felt like on my lips. My violinist had even poked my shoulder, asked where my mind was lately. I hadn't answered.

Some of my band members and a couple of staff from the office had wanted to go out after work, to an izakaya, as we often did. I'd declined this time, saying I already had somewhere I needed to go. They were intensely curious. I normally never said no. But, lately, I'd been declining. I used to be the life of the party. They said it just wasn't fun without me, that I was the loudest one in the group, with the best ideas. My violinist had begged me this time after I declined. "Please, Tetsu, let's go to karaoke afterward. You're the greatest at karaoke. Sing some Akina Nakamori for us. I want to hear 'Tattoo'." He was trying to butter me up, to get me to go out. 

But, no. I knew that Sana was already waiting for me. He'd told me he was making brisket. I'd never had brisket before. He said he'd been working on it since yesterday, slow cooking it, just for me. It made me feel so special. 

So, I'd decided to tease everybody. "I have a date," I'd said, trying not to laugh. One of our staff members had gasped at this, louder than everybody else. 

"Don't let any of corporate know!" She'd exclaimed. "That's against your contract!" 

I just told her I was joking, and she calmed down. Still, my band members wanted to know what I was really doing. Where was I going? What could possibly be more fun than going out with them? 

But, it was true. I did have a date. And now here I was, and here Sana was, looking so adorable. He seemed to be a little awkward, even. Just standing there in front of the oven, looking as a picture of perfection to me. He looked at the floor, his mouth curled a little in a smile. What was he thinking about? Why was he being so adorably shy?

I noticed the music that was playing. Ah, yes, the song that was starting up was Etta James. She belonged to a genre of music which Sana and I both enjoyed. I didn't understand what she was singing about word for word, but I knew the meaning of the song from having read translated lyrics. 

Sana made a small noise in his throat, starting to say something, but instead, he just moved towards me, his arms outstretched. He took me around the waist, and pressed himself to me. My arms wrapped around his back. He put his face against my neck, and I leaned mine against his forehead. I closed my eyes, feeling his warmth, his weight, finally after thinking about this intoxicating moment all day. 

His hips began to sway, and mine followed with his. His movements matched the rhythm of the song. 

Suddenly, we were dancing together. He sighed deeply, against me. I breathed in the soap smell of his skin, making my heart beat faster. Very quietly, I heard him start to sing, and I let out a small noise of love. 

He was singing the translated lyrics to me, just for me. His sweet little voice. My eyes pricked with tears, so in love with him in that moment. I hugged him closer, as we swayed about the kitchen slowly together. The most romantic moment of my life. 

I stared at the vinyl record player on Amazon now, thinking about that moment. How perfect of a gift this would be for him. I put it in my cart, and clicked "buy". I didn't care how much it cost. To me, it was just a number. For him, I'd do anything. Just to see that smile. And maybe, some day, we could dance together again, whatever that looked like. 

In so doing, I realized, I was essentially buying the first piece of our lives together as a couple. It filled me with a warm feeling. Our first piece of furniture that we owned together. And that meant more than anything in the world to me. A strange feeling, the most contented feeling in the world. It meant I wasn't going anywhere. I was in it for the long haul. Completely, totally devoted to him. That we were a family.