I found myself lying on the cold ground, tiny stones digging into my back and moisture seeping into my clothes. Rain was falling from the sky, soft like a whisper, wetting my lashes. I groaned as I tried to move and opened my eyes. My gaze travelled across my blurry surroundings and I recognised the garden of the shrine I used to pass by every morning. My dorm was only a block away. Grimacing, I fought to remember how I had got here, the last thing I knew was almost dozing off in the uni library this afternoon. I had lost several hours.

Again.

I dragged my hands over my face and through my hair, only to find them sticky and dirty. With a start, my pulse accelerated as I tried to clear my head to form a coherent thought, to breathe. I stirred and wanted to sit. I should leave and hide until I manage to reconstruct the happenings of the last few hours, remember what I had done this time. But my body wouldn't comply, my limbs were laden and trembling with pain.

Wincing, I fell back against the gravel. I felt like crying, struggling to breathe through my rising panic. It was not the first time I had found myself in strange places, injured, disoriented and unable to tell how I had got there and what I had been doing for hours, days sometimes. But it was the first time in a long time and unknowingly, I had allowed myself the luxury to think that maybe it was finally over and I got to be normal again.

And this time, it felt worse. My blood was pumping in my veins like a sledgehammer and I tried desperately to calm down, but failed. Every muscle in my body ached, down to the dull throb in my gums. I felt as if my skull might melt away and dissolve right into the ground beneath me.

As I was lying there, unmoving, my thoughts wandering everywhere and nowhere at once, I heard the shuffle of quiet feet, the creaking of wooden floorboards and a door sliding open. My head turned to see who had come out into the garden and if I'd been spotted when I was answered with a sharp intake of breath.

"I'll just be a few minutes, obaasan," she said, shutting the door again. A rustle reached my ear as she came closer and her shadow fell upon me. Dark eyes were staring back at me, contrasting starkly against her pale face, illuminated by the dozen little lanterns swinging from overhanging roofs. It was the shrine maiden, who I knew worked and lived here. I had been seeing her in the crowd of faces around me for quite a long while. Her shiny black hair and narrow eyes were not special, but something about her had drawn me in from the beginning, like no other girl back home ever had. And it made me want to know her. My mind was full of scenarios of what it would be like to just talk to her but I could never bring myself to gather my courage and even learn her name. And now it was her, who approached me instead.

The sound of raindrops hitting a puddle near my head was the only noise for a few seconds. The miko's eyes trailed over my form sprawled out on the ground before her, narrowing almost imperceptibly as she assessed me. Her nose twitched as if she had smelled something bad, and she muttered something under her breath I failed to understand. But before I could blink or reply, her body was tilted towards mine, her knees resting on the wet gravel beside me. Cool fingers came to touch my cheek. Her hair, that had come undone from her ponytail, fanned out like a curtain, blocking the light from my face.

"Can you move?" she whispered. Her fingers pressed down onto the side of my neck as if she was worried I might die then and there, feeling instead for a pulse that was escalating, not only from the helplessness of my situation but more so from her sudden proximity. I wasn't a creep — or maybe I was, it was hard to tell when you kept hearing voices — but she smelled nice, floral and slightly spicy.

"Barely," I managed to rasp, teeth already clattering from being exposed to the chilly night air for so long.

I groaned when her arms lifted me into a sitting position and then slowly, cautiously pulled me up to my feet. I leant onto her more than I probably should as she steered me across the garden, away from the door she had come through and into another smaller building.

Soft light flooded the room in front of me, but I barely paid attention to the interior, too engrossed in the warmth of the girl beside me. Too soon she guided me to a quilted bench and helped me sit down.

When I looked up, my gaze was met by a pair of eyes the colour of chestnuts, framed by black eyeliner. She pursed her lips and I found myself wondering what she might say. It was not every day that you found a strange guy lying passed out in your backyard in the middle of the night. But she seemed to have changed her mind and instead, turned her back to me. I looked around the room. Cupboards and cardboard boxes filled every corner, brightly coloured brochures and the little tokens they used to sell in the shop to visitors and tourists littered every surface. It seemed to be some kind of storage room.

The miko bent down and rummaged around in one of the drawers. She looked different. I was used to seeing her either in her traditional attire — wide red pants and white kimono top — or in formal wear at uni, but tonight she was wearing jeans and a loose-fitting red hoodie. She turned around again and a stack of folded clothes landed in my lap.

"You can take these until your clothes have dried," she told me. "I'll bring you some food and water later."

I was at a loss for words, I could only stare at her. "Aren't you going to ask me what I was doing in the middle of the night in your garden?"

She just smiled, one corner of her lips lifting and a tiny dimple forming in her cheek. It looked a little smug.

"You're not the first drunk I've had to pick up from the pavement. You Americans don't take well to the sake, it seems." Her voice was light, teasing but something in the way she looked at me, how her eyes swept over my hunched form, told me she was searching for something. And it was not to make sure I wouldn't throw up in the storeroom.

"I'm not—"

"Listen," she said, "Ben, right?" I nodded, taken aback once again, this time by the fact that she knew my name when I was still in the dark about hers. "You can have a rest here until you feel better, but you can't stay. When my grandma opens the shop in the morning, you have to be gone. Understood?"

I nodded again, still unable to manage more than just that tiny movement. She mirrored it and then turned towards the door, ready to leave and mind her own business again.

"Wait!" My voice came out louder than intended, making her jump a little and me cringe, but she turned her head toward me once again. I cleared my throat. "I never caught your name," I said, finally coming out of my stupor.

"I never told you." She eyed me for a second, teeth pulling at her lower lip as if she was contemplating and drawing my attention to her mouth. "It's Sakura," she said then and smiled the same grin she had before. And then she pulled her red hood over her damp hair and stepped out into the rainy night.