'I don't mind,' I tell her.
'Your older sister was adopted. They got her from somewhere before you were born, right?'
'That's right,' I reply. 'I don't know why, but my parents adopted her. After that I was born. Not exactly what they had in mind, I imagine.'
'So you're definitely the child of your mother and father.'
'As far I know,' I tell her.
'But when your mother left, she didn't take you, but took your sister, who's unrelated to her,' Sakura says. 'Not what you'd normally expect a woman to do.'
I don't say anything.
'Why'd she do that?'
I shake my head. 'I have no idea,' I tell her. 'I've asked myself the same question a million times.'
'That must have hurt.'
Did it? 'I don't know. But if I get married someday I don't think I'll have any kids. I wouldn't have any idea how to get along with them if I did.'
'My situation wasn't as complicated as yours,' she says, 'but I didn't get along with my folks for a long time, and I got mixed up in a lot of stupid things because of it. So I know how you feel. But it's not a good idea to make decisions so soon. There's no such thing as absolutes.'
She stands in front of the kitchen stove and sips her Nescafe, steam rising from the large cup. The cup has a drawing of the Moomin cartoon characters on it. She doesn't say anything, and neither do I.
'Do you have anybody, relatives or someone, who can help?' she asks after a while.
'No,' I say. 'My father's parents died a long time ago, and he doesn't have any brothers, sisters, uncles, or aunts. Not a one. Not that I can prove this. But I do know he never had anything to do with any relatives. And I never heard anything about relatives on my mother's side. I mean, I don't even know my mother's name-so how was I supposed to know about her relatives?'
'Your father sounds like an alien from outer space or something,' Sakura says. 'Like he came from some far-off planet, took on human form, kidnapped an Earth woman, and then had you. Just so he could have more descendants. Your mother found out, got frightened, and ran away. Like in some film noir science-fiction flick.'
I have no idea what to say.
'All joking aside,' she says, and smiles broadly to show that she means it, 'my point is, in this whole wide world the only person you can depend on is you.'
'I guess so.'
She stands there leaning against the sink, drinking her coffee.
'I have to get some sleep,' she says, as if suddenly remembering. It's past three. 'I have to get up at seven- thirty so I won't get much, but a little's better than none. I hate going to work on no sleep at all. So what're you going to do?'
'I have my sleeping bag with me,' I tell her, 'so if it's no bother I'll just sack out in a corner.' I take my tightly rolled-up sleeping bag out of my backpack, spread it out, and fluff it up.
She watches, impressed. 'A regular Boy Scout,' she says.
After she turns out the light and gets in bed, I climb into my sleeping bag, shut my eyes, and try to go to sleep. But I can't stop picturing that bloody white T-shirt. I still feel that burning sensation in my palm. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. A floor creaks somewhere. Somebody turns on a faucet. And again I hear an ambulance in the night, far off but echoing sharply in the darkness.
'Can't fall asleep?' she whispers in the dark.
'No,' I say.
'Me neither. Shouldn't have had that coffee. That was dumb.' She switches on her bedside light, checks the time, then turns the light off. 'Don't get me wrong,' she says, 'but if you'd like to come over here you can. I can't get to sleep either.'
I slip out of my sleeping bag and climb in bed with her. I'm wearing boxers and the T-shirt. She has on a pair of light pink pajamas.
'I have a steady boyfriend in Tokyo,' she tells me. 'He's not much to brag about, but he's my guy. So I don't have sex with anybody else. I might not look like it, but when it comes to sex I'm pretty straightlaced. Call me old- fashioned. I wasn't always that way-I used to be pretty wild-but I don't fool around anymore. So don't get any ideas, okay? Just think of us as brother and sister. You understand?'
'Gotcha,' I tell her.
She puts her arms around me, hugs me close, and rests her cheek on my forehead. 'You poor thing,' she says.
I don't need to tell you that I get a hard-on right away. Big time. And it couldn't help rubbing up against her thigh.
'My oh my!' she says.
'Sorry,' I tell her. 'I didn't mean to.'
'It's okay,' she says. 'I know what an inconvenience it is. Nothing you can do to stop it.'
I nod in the darkness.
She hesitates for a moment, then lowers my boxers, pulls out my rock-hard cock, and cradles it gently in her hand. Like she's making sure of something, the way a doctor takes a pulse. With her soft hand touching me, I feel something-a stray thought, maybe-spring up in my crotch.
'How old would your sister be now?'
'Twenty-one,' I say. 'Six years older than me.'
She thinks about this for a while. 'Do you want to see her?'
'Maybe,' I say.
'Maybe?' Her hand grasps my cock a little harder. 'What do you mean, maybe? You really don't want to see her that much?'
'I don't know what we'd talk about, and she might not want to see me. Same thing with my mother. Maybe neither one of them wants to have anything to do with me. No one's searching for me. I mean, they left and everything.' Without me, I silently complete the thought.
She doesn't say anything. Her hand on my cock loosens a bit, then tightens. In time with this my cock relaxes, then gets even harder.
'You want to come?' she asks.
'Maybe,' I say.
'Again with the maybes?'
'Very much,' I correct myself.
She sighs lightly and slowly begins to move her hand. It feels out of this world. Not just an up-and-down motion, but more of an all-over massage. Her fingers gently stroke my cock and my balls. I close my eyes and let out a big sigh.
'You can't touch me. And when you're about to come let me know so you don't mess up the sheets.'
'Okay,' I say.
'How is it? I'm pretty good, huh?'
'Fantastic.'
'Like I was telling you, I'm very nimble-fingered. But this isn't sex, okay? I'm just-helping you relax, is what it is. You've had a rough day, you're all tense, and you're not going to sleep well unless we do something about it. Got it?'
'Yeah, I get it,' I say. 'But I do have one request.'
'What's that?'
'Is it okay if I imagine you naked?'
Her hand stops and she looks me in the eyes. 'You want to imagine me naked while we're doing this?'
'Yeah. I've been trying to keep from imagining that, but I can't.'
'Really?'
'It's like a TV you can't turn off.'
She laughs. 'I don't get it. You didn't have to tell me that! Why don't you just go ahead and imagine what you
