Once the details were taken care of, the shooting in the manor house sailed by, so smoothly it was almost eerie. No mention was made of the soft condition stipulated by Murakami-sensei, and only Nick knew of the slight nausea experienced by Sumire when she started taking the pill.

"You know, you don't need to take them," Nick suggested after she'd been taking them about a week. They were sitting in the onsen one night after shooting, having a night cap of sake. "You don't need them, and no one would ever know, right?"

The ryokan had lit the outside with dozens of little lanterns, and their hot pool reflected them, creating a warm, intimate effect, like an old movie.

Sumire looked over at Nick, and he was taken aback by her beauty, as he always was when she was sitting in the hot, steamy water with her hair piled on top of her head. A few wispy tendrils curled around her neck, her cheeks had a little color, and her eyes were bright. The friendship necklace he'd given her on her birthday hung around her neck, emphasizing how fragile and delicate her jaw looked. She had to take it off every day for filming, but he knew she put it back on immediately every evening when they were finished. He found this very touching.

"I would know, Nick-san," she replied, picking up her cup. "I don't like to lie unless I have to, you know?"

"Understood," he answered, finishing off his sake, and pouring himself another.

"I got complimented again today on my accent," Nick told her.

"Oh yeah? By whom?"

"The script writers. They came around with some changes for next month, for the scenes that happen in the palace? You know, after we're trying to escape?" Nick smiled. "Yeah, one of them actually thought I spoke Japanese and tried to talk to me. She was shocked all to hell when she found out I didn't speak the language and couldn't understand anything she was saying."

Sumire laughed. "Oh yeah, but Nick, that woman? She was born and raised here."

"What, in Shikoku?"

"Not just in Shikoku, I mean in Ehime Prefecture," Sumire explained. "It's one of the most extreme accents in all of Japan. We're talking, like, someone from the Ozarks, you understand? Even I had a hard time understanding her."

"Oh, you sound so elitist, Mimi-chan," Nick said, laughing as he flicked some water on her.

"Please, I'm the least elitist person you'll ever meet, I'm speaking strictly as a linguist, you understand?"

"Yeah, right," Nick agreed, nodding ostentatiously.

"Nick! Stop!" Sumire flicked some water back at Nick, and in doing so, she caused the strap of her suit to slide down her arm, though she didn't notice.

She looked very winsome to Nick this way, though she was showing nothing but a bare shoulder and a tiny bit of cleavage; he'd seen entire platoons of women way more scantily clad than this. However, none of them looked half as charming as the young woman in front of him, with her slender neck and shy smile.

He knew, however, that she would not want to be displayed thus, so he slowly leaned across the space that separated them and slid his finger under the strap so he could lift it back over her pretty shoulder.

She looked down at what he was doing, showing him her profile; he watched her throat work as she swallowed, and observed her long lashes on her cheeks as she slowly blinked. She looked up and made eye contact with him as he slipped his finger out from under the strap.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"My pleasure."

They sat and drank their sake in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the relaxation, the warmth, the liquor, the company.

"Nick?"

"Mm?"

"Don't you miss your female company?"

"What do you mean? You're female, and you're great company."

She nudged him with her foot under the water.

"Don't be obtuse on purpose, Nick-san. You know what I mean." She filled her cup. "You haven't had any spice in your life since the golden girl in the Village back in New York."

Nick shrugged. "I usually lay off, or at least go easy, when I'm working. I like to keep focus, you know?"

Sumire took a deep breath. "Look, I don't want you to, you know, feel like you have to, uh, curtail your activities because of me, because I did what I did the other night, you know?"

"Curtail my activities? Is that what you said?"

"If you laugh at me I'm going to make your Japanese sound so fucked up during filming tomorrow, Nick, I swear--"

"No, no, I'm not laughing, I promise, I promise!"

Sumire set her cup down and ducked lower in the water, so her shoulders were immersed. "I mean, I'd be sad if our friendship ended just because I kissed you, you know? I'd hate for it to be, like, Meredith, Monique, Beverly, Audra, Sally, uh--Linda, who came after that?"

She looked at Nick, who looked back at her blankly.

"Oh, Rosa? Then Victoria, then me, Sumire, then on to the next, you know?"

"Jesus, how did you remember all of them?" Nick asked, amazed.

Sumire shrugged, her shoulders appearing momentarily above the water before disappearing again.

"Anyway, I know you haven't slept with me, nowhere near, but still, I don't want to be on that list. Please tell me I won't be on that list?"

Nick looked at her, his expression softening as he shook his head. "Never, Mimi-chan, never ever. I told you, I'm in love with you. I don't know if that's a one month thing or a one year thing, or a forever thing, to be honest, but it puts you in a category all by yourself, and I can't imagine just swapping you out like a pair of socks, ever."

Sumire bit her lips together and nodded, giving Nick a small smile of gratitude.

They remained in the pool a few minutes longer, then, on some unspoken signal, they got out and went to prepare for bed. Like that other night, Nick waited for her on the couch, by now knowing how her mind worked.

And like that night, after her light went out, the shoji slid open, and she came into his room, smelling of toothpaste and shampoo, to stand before him. This time, however, instead of rising to stand before her, he pulled her so she was sitting on his lap, straddling his legs in her yukata, which was heavier cotton than the other one, now that the weather was a bit colder.

He wove his fingers between hers in the darkness of the room; he could barely see her, as there was no moon tonight. He could hear her quiet breaths, and feel her warm exhalations on his face. They sat this way for nearly a minute before he released her hands and put his hands on her waist, over the cotton of her yukata, loving how her torso tapered to slenderness below her ribs before flowing to the richness of her hips where she sat on his legs. If she was uncomfortable, either with the position or by her proximity to him, she didn't show it.

Once his hands were on her, however, he made no move to pull her closer, merely enjoying the intimacy of their position, of being able to inhale the fragrance of her, of knowing she was inhaling the scent of him as well.

"Nick," she whispered, leaning in. "Oh, Nick."

And again, that swooning sensation when her lips touched his made him feel like he was taking flight. He could picture her mouth, dark red and soft, touching his, as her head tilted and her eyes closed.

This time she was the one who made a noise, a soft sound between a moan and a groan that began in her tummy and made its way up her throat to escape from her nose as they kissed. Her hands were on his shoulders, and she squeezed him as the sound came out; the combination made him start to get hard, as the blood began to leave his brain at an astonishingly fast rate. He could almost feel it sizzling as it raced downward to create the throbbing that he hadn't felt in so long. She had to feel his length between her thighs, how could she not? He wasn't small, not in height, not in any way, many women had told him so.

Again, it took every ounce of self control not to use his tongue to wedge her lips open and lick into her really hard. He could imagine how hot and wet the inside of her mouth would be. He wanted to kiss her over and over, to use his teeth and bite those soft lips of hers, to suck her tongue and welcome it into his mouth as well.

She broke the kiss herself, backed off a little, and came back in, using her small, neat teeth to bite his bottom lip and pull on it a little, and her tongue snaked out to swipe along the line where his lips met.

Nick felt it, and opened his mouth, meeting her tongue with his, hoping this wouldn't shock her too much, wouldn't scare her into withdrawing or leaping off his lap and running away.

He felt her lips curve up in the little smile he loved, and he knew he was safe, that he was going to be okay. He let his hands slide up from her waist, to slip under her hair and grasp her neck so he could turn her head even more and get a better angle. And even though he told himself that this was plenty, that he really, really needed not to be greedy, he couldn't get the image of her with her shoulder strap down out of his mind, and his other hand slid around to her front as if it had a mind of its own. He tried to stop it as it moved under her arm, but it kept going, along the soft fabric of her yukata, and it didn't stop moving until it could feel the round, curved flesh of her breast through the cloth, with the hard-soft gumdrop of her nipple right in the center. It filled his palm perfectly like it had been made to fill it, and if someone had been holding a gun to his head, he couldn't have stopped himself from giving it a gentle squeeze.

Again, though, he felt her lips move up in that tiny smile, and he exhaled with relief. This was going to be okay.

He felt her hands slide around to his neck, and the unmistakable feeling of her pulling him closer.

"Nick," she sighed again, into his mouth. "Oh, Nick."

This was heaven. This was bliss.

Finally, after a few more minutes,

"Oyasuminasai."

"Oyasuminasai."