“How have you been this week, Marianna?” asked Pedro. He sat opposite her in a cushioned chair, clipboard and pen in hand.

  “All right,” Marianna said, leaning against the back of the couch she was sitting on. “A bit hectic, I guess.”

  Pedro continued watching her in silence, every line of his relatively young face kind and open. He couldn’t have been more than forty, with a bald head and kind brown eyes. More often than not, Pedro wore black-rimmed glasses during their session. He didn’t need to wear them all the time, he’d told Marianna once, during one of their more casual conversations. Rather, they helped him read better and to avoid unnecessary headaches.

  The casual talks they had was Pedro’s way of helping Marianna wind down at the end of their sessions. As much as it helped, therapy could be emotionally draining. On many occasions, Marianna became teary or outright had a breakdown. Talking about the movie she’d seen the other day or what she’d done with her friends over the weekend helped Marianna regain her composure before leaving the room.

  After a brief hesitation, in which time she debated if she should say anything at all, Marianna admitted, “My parents are furious with me.”

  “And why is that?” Pedro’s eyes lacked any hint of judgement. It made talking to him much easier.

  “I went out with my girlfriend the other day,” Marianna explained with a small sigh. Her eyes fixed itself on the light brown candle flickering on the small table, the flame mesmerizing. The scent, according to the label, was pipe-smoke. “I didn’t exactly ask for permission and just went with her after work. My parents weren’t too happy about that in the first place”––they never were––”but when I ended getting home after nine o’clock, they were really mad.” That was an understatement, but Marianna wasn’t sure she wanted to detail how explosive the ensuing argument had been. She rubbed the scar on her left shoulder.

  Realizing what she was doing, Marianna placed her hand in her lap.

  Pedro's eyes followed the motion. Marianna shifted in her seat.

  “I see,” Pedro hummed. He scribbled something on his clipboard. Marianna wondered what it was. “Irresponsible, thinks she’s always in the right”? If her circumstances had been different, Marianna might agree with the “irresponsible” part. Her ego hadn’t gotten so big that she thought it was a good idea to regularly disobey her parents’ wishes. But if she were to listen to them, Marianna knew for a fact she would be shoved back into the metaphorical closet faster than she could blink, with an iron door positioned outside. And that wasn’t something she was willing to go through.

  “Have you seen Alna since then?” Pedro asked. Marianna redirected her gaze to him.

  “Yeah, I visited her house yesterday. She helped me with some homework.”

  Pedro hummed and nodded, scribbling away once more. “Are you forbidden from seeing her?”

  Marianna could feel her face twist itself into a grimace at that. “I’ve pretty much been forbidden from seeing her for months now. It hasn’t been very effective.”

  Pedro scribbled away once more. “Do you think the reason your parents don’t want you to see Alna is out of concern for your wellbeing?”

  Marianna blew an exasperated breath, reminding herself that this could go a lot worse. She’d ended up having to switch therapists months ago when her parents had convinced her to bring up Marianna’s “urges.” Alna had had no qualms with helping her find a new therapist after that, thus leading her to Pedro.

  “I know that’s part of why they’re so against our relationship––in a way. It’s just so misguided and I wish…” Instead of continuing, Marianna sighed. She resisted the urge to press a hand over eyes to forestall the headache she could feel coming.

  “You wish what?” Pedro urged in a gentle voice.

  They’d had this discussion before, Marianna thought with some annoyance. What was the point in repeating it?

  She reigned in her frustration. Pedro’s questions were professional, despite their repetition. He didn’t deserve her ire.

  “I wish they’d see there’s nothing wrong with our relationship. There’s nothing sick or wrong about it, despite what they think.”

  More writing. Marianna wondered, again, what observations he was making about her.

  Pedro hummed at that, nodding thoughtfully before glancing back up at her. “And how have your nightmares been?”

  Marianna felt herself relax a bit, tension that she hadn’t even noticed melting away. “Pretty good, actually. I haven’t had any this week, so far.”

  The entire session lasted a half an hour (significantly less time than it had been in the beginning) and when it was over, Marianna met Hikari in the lobby. Upon catching sight of her friend, Hikari grinned, turning off her phone and hopping up from the chair she had been sitting in.

  “How’d it go?” she asked, arms swinging by her side a few times in an almost childlike manner. Marianna felt a spark of affection.

  “Good,” she replied, following Hikari outside into the frigid outdoors. She shivered at the blast of cold air that hit her at full force. The weather didn’t seem too keen on improving. “Intense, but good.”

  Hikari voiced her approval as the two girls reached the car Hikari had driven over in, otherwise known as her mother’s car. After the fight yesterday, Marianna knew she needed to get out of her house and had called Hikari to see if a sleepover would be a good idea. Hikari, whose mother was sympathetic to her home life situation, had readily agreed. Even though their last sleepover had been less than a week ago.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to quit therapy soon?” Hikari inquired as she started up the car. Marianna’s phone vibrated as she opened her mouth to answer. She muttered a quick apology as she pulled it out of her purse. Alna had texted, asking how the session had gone. Marianna typed back a hasty response, holding her phone loosely in her hand in case Alna texted again.

  “Maybe?” Marianna replied as Hikari drove out of the parking lot. Her response came out as more of a question. “I’m not sure. I mean, I’m not having nightmares as much as I used to.” She decided not to add that last Wednesday, a nightmare had awoken her around two-thirty in the morning. This had led to a frantic call to Alna, as Marianna assured herself that her girlfriend was, indeed, still alive. Afterward, Marianna had wandered to the kitchen, planning to get herself something warm to drink. Her mother had been in there, leading to a rather awkward––and heartbreaking––exchange that left Marianna feeling frustrated with a healthy dose of guilt.

  “But I’m not sure if I’m ready to stop going yet,” Marianna continued. “I might be able to cut it back a bit more, though. Like once a month.” As Hikari drove through a green light, Marianna heaved a sigh. “I’d probably have to take that up with my parents, though.”

  Seeing as they were the ones paying for her sessions, it was more or less up to them how often she went or when she stopped going altogether. Not that Marianna thought they would prevent her from going to therapy. Misguided as they were, Edward and Farren weren’t heartless.

  Hikari was frowning in sympathy. When she stopped at a red light, she reached over and squeezed Marianna’s hand.

  “Okay, so fair warning,” Hikari said sometime later as she pulled into the Funais’ garage. “My mom’s trying some bizarre new recipe for supper tonight, so if you get food poisoning, don’t blame me.”

  “I’d never dream of it,” Marianna replied with exaggerated innocence. When Hikari looked over at her with a playfully threatening glare, Marianna batted her eyes. In response, Hikari rolled her own before hopping out of the truck and slamming the door behind her. Marianna picked up her overnight bag and followed.

  “Okaasan,” Hikari called as she and Marinna entered through the garage. “We’re home, and no one died.”

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  Marianna pressed a hand to her mouth at that. She knew for a fact that Hikari’s mother, Karin, hated it when she made crude jokes about driving. Which was exactly why she kept doing it.

  “Hikari,” Karin sighed from the kitchen. She sounded equal parts exasperated and amused. “Honestly.” She reached out to tug a strand of Hikari’s hair in playful reprimand, shooting Marianna a kind look as she did so.

  Karin Funai was an attractive lady in her early forties. Her inky black hair had been cropped short since the day Marianna had met her, which was somewhere around a decade ago. She had sharp cheekbones that any girl would die to have, an hourglass figure, and kind honey eyes framed with thick lashes.

  She had also been divorced for somewhere around four years and seemed quite happy raising Hikari by herself.

  “How was school today, Mary?” Karin asked as she walked back over to an old-fashioned oven––a black, metal one that looked like it should be heated with a fire. She’d bought it online, Hikari explained once. Karin seemed to have an affinity for old-fashioned objects. Hikari, as she’d once told Marianna, would never understand it.

  “It was okay,” Marianna replied as she set her bag next to a china cabinet. Normally, she would drop it off in Hikari’s room, but considering their sleepovers had become semi-regular, she’d allowed herself to become a little lenient. “It’s school. Nothing too special.”

  “I’ll say,” Hikari grumbled, walking over to inspect whatever was boiling on the stovetop. She snatched a spoon from a nearby counter, trying to dip it in the pot, only to have her hand smacked away by her mother. Karin scolded her in Japanese.

  Hikari, obviously for Marianna’s sake, continued to speak in English. “But, Okaasan, I’m starving.”

  “I very much doubt that,” Karin shot back, unsympathetic. She narrowed her eyes in reproach. “You can wait ten more minutes.”

  Hikari hovered by the stove a moment longer, gazing longingly at the pot. Karin wouldn’t be bargained with, though. She stirred the pot once, adding some spices, before grasping her daughter’s shoulders and turning her away.

  Marianna tried to stifle a smile without success. Hiakari, seeing this, gave her a scowl and flopped into one of the cushioned chairs surrounding the medium-sized, round table. Marianna walked across the room and picked up her overnight bag, heading off to Hikari’s bedroom.

  The first time she’d slept over after coming out, Marianna had implied that it would be all right if Hikari didn’t feel comfortable sharing the bed with her. Hikari had given Marianna a look of complete befuddlement, as if the thought had never even occurred to her.

  “Why wouldn’t we? Isn’t it practically a law that girls have to share beds on sleepovers?”

  Marianna drew in a calming breath, intending to explain herself, when Hikari’s eyes flashed with understanding.

  “Wait, you think I’d be uncomfortable? Because you find girls attractive?”

  Marianna nodded her head wordlessly, biting her lip.

  Hikari stared at her for a moment, speechless. And then, she glanced downward, muttering something in Japanese before looking back up.

  “Are you attracted to me?” she’d asked, point blank. Marianna startled a bit at that.

  “Oh, uh, no,” she’d told her. “No offense or anything.”

  “Right,” Hikari had said, tilting her head. There was an angry set to her mouth. “Then I see no problem here. I don’t have a problem with it, my mom doesn’t have a problem with it; you shouldn’t, either.” Hikari paused then, allowing Marianna to process her words, before adding, “Honestly, Mary, I’d be comfortable sharing a bed with Blaze, if the situation ever came up. I’ve known him for years; I’ve known you and Sadie for years. I trust you. That’s all that matters to me.”

  Despite that conversation, Marianna had spent the last five sleepovers sleeping on a miniature blow-up mattress. As comfortable as she and Hikari were with each other, Hikari’s bed wasn’t all that big to begin with, and they’d both missed sleeping solo.

  The blow-up mattress was comfortable enough, anyway. Karin had even prepared for her ahead of time––again. Marianna would never stop feeling touched by how thoughtful she was.

  After shooting Alna a quick text, asking if they could talk later––to which she received a confirmation––Marianna returned to the kitchen. Hikari, having apparently gotten over her play argument with Karin, was now sitting at the table, playing on her phone. She didn’t acknowledge Marianna’s presence as she took a seat across from the other girl, but she didn’t mind. With the amount of time Marianna alternated between her friends’ and Alna’s place, it probably felt like she lived here part time.

  “How’d the therapy go?” Karin asked from the stove. She crouched down, opening the oven to check on what appeared to be buns.

  “All right,” Marianna responded. Given the confidentiality that was assured to every patient, Marianna knew that Karin wouldn’t press for more specific answers. She was too respectful to do something like that.

  “That’s good,” Karin commented, straightening back up. “Would you two mind setting the table? This should be ready pretty soon.”

  Pleased at being given such a simple task, Marianna stood almost immediately and walked over to a cabinet. Opening it, Marianna selected three bowels and brought them over to the table. For herself, Marianna had selected a white bowel with pink cherry blossom design. Throughout the entire house, there was evidence of Karin and Hikari’s culture sprinkled about. The bowels were just one of them––with their intricate designs and painted pictures. In the living room, one could find pictures of a younger Hikari with her grandparents, who still lived in Japan themselves, and a low coffee table with cushions situated around it. There was a couch in there, too.

  Setting her bowl on the table, Marianna couldn’t help but think the cherry blossoms looked beautiful. She didn’t even care if that made her stereotypical.

  Mere minutes after both Hikari and Marianna had set the table, dinner was ready.

  The soup that Karin cooked up was… interesting, to say the least. It contained something she called butternut, along with sausage and cauliflower. She’d sprinkled in a few spices, paired with small pieces of onion. In all honesty, when Marianna heard Karin list the ingredients, it didn’t sound all that appetizing. She was soon proven wrong when it turned out that not only did she find the taste pleasant, but Hikari did, too.

  “This is pretty good,” Hikari mumbled, a bit grudgingly. Marianna reached for a bun from the large bowel in the center of the table. After testing its heat, she picked it up and set it next to her soup, deciding to give another minute to cool down.

  “You girls,” Karin said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You need to have more faith in me.”

  “That’s not always easy when it comes to your cooking,” Hikari quipped, flashing a smile.

  Karin narrowed her eyes, pointing her spoon at Hikari in a playfully threatening manner. “You watch yourself, misshī.”

  Marianna dipped her bun in her soup, trying to hold back her giggles.

  After dinner, Marianna and Hikari assisted Karin in clean-up before pulling out their homework. As Marianna had learned at the beginning of high school, Hikari seemed to be fluent in Shakespearean English. Not only could she seem to understand ninety-five percent of what was being said, she seemed to actually enjoy studying the plays as well. It was a fact that would forever baffle Marianna.

  That was how Marianna found herself sitting in the Funai kitchen, Macbeth opened in front of her, taking notes as Hikari explained a rather long monologue from Macbeth himself.

  She would have preferred to work on math. It was much easier.

  “Why can’t I look up the meaning online?” Marianna muttered about five minutes into Hikari’s explanation. There was probably a whine in her voice. She couldn’t bring herself to care all that much.

  Hikari stopped mid-sentence and rolled her eyes at Marianna. “Because this is more fun. It forces us to, you know, interact with each other. Like friends are supposed to do.”

  “But don’t you have chemistry homework to do?” Marianna asked, an edge of desperation in her voice. She cast her thoughts about, looking for any excuse she could use.

  Hikari frowned at her. “I doubt you complain this much when Alna helps you.”

  Marianna flushed a bit at that, crossing her arms and eyeing a picture of a younger Karin with her arms around a ten-year-old Hikari. She made no move to rebuke her.

  “Thought so,” Hikari said, sounding smug. When Marianna looked back at her, Hikari’s expression matched her tone. She took another moment to eye Marianna with a sly smile, causing the girl in question to shift in her seat. “Look, I know I’m not your hot girlfriend,” Hikari continued, ignoring Marianna’s flush, “but I don’t think I’m a horrible tutor. So let’s do this.”

  Marianna sighed, intending to relent, when Karin reappeared in the kitchen. “Hikari, you need to stop tormenting the poor girl,” she ordered, hands on her hips.

  Hikari looked up, widening her eyes. “But, Okasaan, I’m always nice.”

  “Of course you are––” Karin added something in Japanese, which Hikari grimaced at. “Now play nice.”

  Marianna couldn’t help the short laugh that worked its way past her lips. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle it.

  “Did she just…” Hikari trailed off, sounding flummoxed. “I’m not a child.”

  “You sure about that?” When Hikari directed a glare at her, Marianna gave her an innocent smile. Hikari’s green eyes narrowed before she rolled them again.

  “Whatever,” she muttered, turning back to Marianna’s Macbeth textbook. “Now––” And she started another torturously long explanation.

  Marianna wanted to slam her head against the table.