“Do you see Kotaro yet?” Asked Alan as we stood back to back searching the crowds.
“Not yet. I can barely see anyone in this sea of people.”
“That’s a bit ironic isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is.”
“I think I see him.”
“Where?” I asked looking over his shoulder. “I don’t see him.”
“By the vending machine. To the left of the restrooms.” Alan pointed out.
It took me a moment, but I finally saw Kotaro holding the sign reading Dyson Electric. Suitcases in hand, we assimilated into the columns of busy bodies until emerging on the other side before Kotaro.
“Welcome to Sapporo Mr. Dyson. I hope the flight was well for you and your companion.” Kotaro spoke with a broken accent before bowing.
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Alan reciprocated the bow before stating “The flight was well my friend, but please allow me to introduce you to my companion James.”
Kotaro bowed to me and I quickly bowed back unsure of how far I should bend. After he led us outside and flagged a cab. The three of us crammed into the back seats and Kotaro told the driver our destination. With Kotaro and Alan talking in Japanese, most likely about the company, I found myself looking out the window at the city around me. Seeing the lights of the city from above hardly compared to being in their glow at the beginnings of night. Yet even with the moon above the city seemed as alive as day. People filled the sidewalks and cars plowed the streets. Coming to a red at an intersection I found my eyes upon a woman in front of a bakery.
Her hair was shortly cut and painted in the blackest hue. Her skin showed youth and beauty through its radiant texture of pale snow that brought with it a sense of nostalgia. This nostalgia ignored my flesh and bone piercing straight through my heart. Only when she turned towards me and I saw her deep blue eyes did I know why I felt this longing. I wanted to get out of the car, to hold her, and talk to her one more time, but the cab drove on. She faded into the night as I watched through the back window. Turning towards the front my vision throbbed with the rapid beat of my heart. It was for the best I wanted to say, but my heart held my throat.