Sumire and Nick spent New Year's Eve quietly, just the two of them, refusing all invitations, including the one from their director to join him at his home in Tokyo. They watched Kohaku Uta Gassen on TV, which Sumire explained was a New Year's Eve tradition in Japan. In it, Japan's top singers performed, with the women on the red team and the men on the white, and a panel of judges and the audience would vote and decide which team performed better at the end of the night.

As Nick pointed out, it was more funny than anything, especially for a gaijin, or foreigner, like he was, especially when liquor was involved, but that was okay.

"I mean, you must admit, they do tend to, uh, over emote just a little," he said as he took a drink of his sake.

"Why must you be so judgmental?" Sumire asked, taking another drink herself. She gestured toward the TV, where a woman was belting out a song in the traditional Japanese style, which was known as enka. It would almost be the Japanese equivalent of country music. "This is my childhood you're mocking, Nick Pensieri, I'll have you know."

They were dressed in their yukatas, sitting in a kotatsu, a low table with a blanket where a table cloth would be. There was a heating element on the underside of the table top, so the space where one put one's legs was heated. It was another bit of nostalgia from Sumire's childhood, but it had evolved somewhat from the Formica tabletops that she remembered. The one the kind ladies had set up for them came with a remote control, adjustable heat, and the most amazing "kotatsu sofa;" it was a cushioned chair that went all the way around the kotatsu, providing back support and cushy comfort, no matter where one chose to sit.

"You know, when I was little, our kotatsu was either off, or burn your legs hot, and we had to sit on cushions with no back support, so we ended up lying down in it after a while," she told Nick, as if imparting some ages old folklore. "This thing we're sitting in is amazing," she added, patting the cushions with appreciation.

"You're so, so cute when you're drunk," Nick told her, leaning in to give her an affectionate kiss.

"Hey! I'm not drunk," Sumire informed him with dignity. "You're drunk." She gave Nick a shove, misjudged her strength and the distance, and pushed him over.

"Whoa! Purple! Why?" Nick asked in an aggrieved voice. He pulled her on top of himself. "You know, this contraption we're sitting in is perfect for making out, isn't it? Way better than a couch. It's warm, soft, wide, and weirdly sexy." He slid his hands under Sumire's sweater, palms against her smooth skin. "Or do I mean sexual?" He thought for a moment. "I don't even know."

Sumire lay on top of him, legs under the kotatsu, and kissed him soundly. "You've had way more to drink than I have, sir," she informed him. "When are they bringing the food?" she asked.

Nick shrugged without removing his hands. "How should I know? You're the one who speaks the language."

Sumire lifted her head from Nick's chest to look at him. "Oh. Yeah. You're right."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of dinner.

"Yum!" Sumire declared, rising to let them in.

Ten minutes later they were all tucked into their warm table with their traditional New Year's Eve meal of toshikoshisoba.

"Holy shit, this is so beautiful it looks like a work of art," Nick declared, taking a quick picture to send to Darcie. "And you're telling me that people are eating this all over Japan?"

Sumire shook her head. "Not this fancy, no," she said. "The noodles are the important thing. "Toshikoshisoba means, uh, "the passage of the year noodles," I guess. To symbolize the passing of the old year. But this is nothing compared to how beautiful tomorrow's food will look." She patted Nick's tummy. "Come on, Nick-san, let's eat."

So they tucked in, laughing at the TV, drinking their sake and getting happily drunk as the evening progressed. They stacked the dishes outside their door so the ladies wouldn't have to come in, and Sumire called out, requesting that the kotatsu be left out and that their bedding be laid in the smaller room, just for tonight.

"Wakarimashita, I understand, Sumire-san," the nice woman responded. "It's very cold tonight, and the kotatsu is nice to have, isn't it?"

"Okay, we won't be bothered for the rest of the night," she gleefully told Nick when she hung up the phone.

"Great, so get your beautiful ass back here where it's warm," Nick said, lifting the edge of the kotatsu blanket invitingly.

Sumire scooted in and snuggled into Nick's side, knocking them both over in the process. They lay together for a while, not saying anything, when suddenly Nick gave an almighty sniff, a sniff that indicated rare tears.

Sumire sat up in surprise, trying to see his face. He had his hand over his eyes, however, and wouldn't let her see.

"Nick-san, are you crying?" she asked. "Why?"

"I never believed we'd be at this place," he explained. "I mean, look at us, look at you. You just ran across the room and practically jumped into my arms, Mimi-chan! You snuggled into me, you like to be with me. You're the girl who didn't want to hold my fucking hand when we were walking in New York City four months ago, you know?" He sniffed again, releasing her and rolling to face the other way. "I'm just so fucking happy." He shrugged. "Just ignore me, okay? I'm more than a little drunk right now, it makes me kind of maudlin."

Sumire looked at his broad back for a few moments, then reached out her hand and laid it between his shoulder blades. She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss right above it, on the fabric of his yukata.

"I know, Nick, I know, and I'm happy, too, you better believe it," she assured him. "I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd be this close to someone, that I'd be someone's lover. I thought I was destined to live my life alone. You changed my life in so many wonderful ways, so thank you for that.

"And," she continued, her voice growing hesitant, "I want you to know that I haven't forgotten the conversation we had so long ago, about variety, Nick. If you're feeling stifled, like you want some more variety in your life, I understand, okay? I don't mind if you don't want to be my lover anymore. I'll be so sad and miserable if you don't want to be my friend anymore, but I'll survive if you don't want to have sex with me, I want to make sure you know that, Nick."

She patted his back again for emphasis. "I can probably find someone else who wants to be my lover, if I ever want another lover, but I could never replace you as a friend, Nick-san, so please don't make me." She took a deep, heaving breath to indicate that she was finished.

Nick turned around to face her, and the intensity on his face shocked her. He pulled her close and kissed her, a fierce, burning kiss that she felt to her core.

"Mimi-chan, I told you, I don't want to stop being your lover. And I certainly don't want you to find yourself some other lover." He gave an involuntary shudder. "God, just the thought of you with someone else makes me want to die." He kissed her again, gentler this time, but no less imperative. "I mean, it makes me want to kill him first, then it makes me want to die."

"Please," and he kissed her again. "Please--" kiss. "Never--" kiss. "Ever--" kiss. "Take--" kiss. "Another--" kiss. "Lover--" kiss. "Please." And one, last, emphatic kiss, as he reached with his tongue, parting her warm lips to reach inside and claim her, turning his head to angle in deeper, groaning with need as he bent her head back with the strength of it.

"I want to be your friend and lover forever, okay? Please believe me," he murmured urgently against her lips. "I've had enough variety to last me a lifetime."

He suddenly opened his eyes and pulled back. "Unless you're saying you want that? Do you want variety?"

Sumire could hear the vulnerability in his voice, and it moved her like nothing else ever had.

She reached her arms round his neck, pulling him on top of her, spreading her legs to give him room to settle between them. Their yukatas spread easily. She dug her fingers into the short hairs at the base of his neck as she tipped her head up so their foreheads were touching.

"You're all the spice my life will ever need, Nick-san," she assured him with her little smile. "I swear it."

Nick let out a great breath of relief. "I'm going to hold you to those words, make no mistake," he assured her.

He could feel her on the tip of him, already warm and wet, ready and inviting. He pushed in just a little after probing between her thighs, letting out a sound of pleasure at how good it felt.

Sumire, too, rolled her hips outward, just a little, rising to meet him as she arched her body up into his, sighing with the relief and bliss she always felt when he entered her.

"Can you take me a bit farther, baby?" Nick whispered.

Sumire nodded, lifting her pelvis to accommodate him, pressing upward until she couldn't anymore.

"Oh fuck, oh god, baby, feels so good, you feel so good," Nick groaned into her ear as he began to move inside her.

They created a syncopated rhythm, hands clasped next to Sumire's head, eyes locked together until Sumire couldn't take the intensity of his gaze and had to look away and close her eyes. Her thirsty hips kept up their motions, driving Nick insane with the sensations she created on him, especially the sensitive tip of him at the apex of each thrust.

He reached his climax all too soon, though he tried to hold on, if not for her sake, for his own, but it was impossible.

"I'm coming, baby, I'm coming now," he said into her open mouth as they kissed and his hips sped up of their own accord.

"Yes, Nick, come to me," Sumire responded, releasing his hands and raking her fingers down his back as she pressed her pelvis up onto him as hard as she could.

He put his hand between them and rubbed her as he remained motionless, grinding their pubic bones together, knowing that he could sometimes climax this way.

Today was one of those days, and he felt her draw in her breath and hold it as she tensed up, thighs clenching as she curled her small body into him.

"Nick, Nick, Nick," she called as she clung to him.

Finally, the two of them relaxed, lying down next to each other. They didn't have to cover up or worry about getting chilled because they were still under the kotatsu.

"You know, we can just sleep here if you want," Sumire suggested.

"Nah, I'd rather sleep in our futons," Nick said. "Unless you really want to?"

No, I prefer the futons, too," she agreed. "And that way they can come in an lay our New Year's Day feast and not bother us, right?"

"It's really called a feast?"

Sumire grinned at him. "You ain't seen nothing yet, Nick-san."

So, hand in hand, they went to bed, where Sumire dreamed of New Year's feasts, and Nick dreamed of Sumire.