“Are you sure you want to go?”

  “I only went once before. Never wished to visit again.”

  “But why? I've been paying this heavy membership fee since graduation without ever using it. Thanks for coming with me.”

  “Hm… I’m only here because you begged.”

  “Akina, don’t be so stiff.”

  “Consider this your warning.”

  We stepped into the private club. Faces I half-remembered, some softened and changed by time, others untouched and familiar, greeted us with polite smiles and formal bows. Quiet waves of recognition rippled between us, mingling subtly with restrained laughter and respectful nods. The air was alive with a mingling of languages—Japanese, English, and Chinese, woven seamlessly into the conversation.

  ☆

  “Dr. Hoshino, as elegant as ever. Welcome back to the alumni reunion.”

  “Dr. Honma, still as pretty as I recall. Your first time, isn’t it?”

  Akina drew them like sunflowers turning toward warmth.

  Some had become investment bankers in New York, others surgeons, still others had forged paths as entrepreneurs, lawyers, or fund managers.

  “I have twenty-two cars now, adding two more in the upcoming release. Come join my ride sometime?”

  “I made something like US$50 million in the market last year”

  “My firm manage about US$2.5 billion, bonus is nothing to sneeze at”

  “I keep a collection of Romanée-Conti at home, some Domaine Leroy too. Mostly burgundy wines. Valued at around US$10 million”

  “Thats a nice Birkin bag ”

  “Yea, Its my 20th Birkin collection”

  Attention slowly shifted to Akina again.

  A female alumni asked, “What did you make, Hoshino sensei ?”

  Akina calmly and confidently answered, “I made a difference”

  The meal was quite elegant. Wines from the alumni cellar were shared freely. Groups gathered, their voices low and earnest as they spoke of aging vintages and subtle bouquets, sharing their extensive knowledge in wine.

  Akina declined politely as she had to drive. I’m lucky enough to sit beside her, take small, careful sips, savoring each glass despite myself.

  I am not a fan of alcohol. Low doses ethanol causes impaired cognition, lower inhibition and impaired judgement. Thus making some people more talkative, aggressive or less sexually inhibited. Higher doses cause increasingly impaired reflexes, respiratory depression and depression. Ethanol is a foreign substance and presumably a toxin and so oxidizes it to make it more water soluble and thus more easily excretable. Acetaldehyde buildup can occur in certain cases and this molecule is quite toxic, it causes flushed face and nausea and is responsible for some of the effects of hango–

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Excuse me, I’m rambling. Sorry.

  Gentle hands offered to escort me home, kind words promising safe passage. I felt their touch, soft and considerate. Akina interrupted softly, pulled me away and kindly told them I’ll be in her care.

  “Akina, why are you so endearing?”

  ★

  She walked me to her car.

  “Here—just in case,” she said, handing me a plastic bag and a bottle of water.

  “Haha… thanks. Seems I’m low on aldehyde dehydrogenase.”

  “I can tell—you’re red as a tomato. So, did you enjoy the party?”

  “Yeah. I think I did.”

  “Really?...”

  “Yes. Especially when Akina roasted them all.”

  “You’re quite the sadist.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “People talking without speaking. Seeing but not truly looking. Listening without hearing. Feeling but not caring. Honestly, if not for you, I’d rather be with my students.”

  I closed my eyes. Silence settled briefly in the car.

  “Miyuki, want to go for round two at my place? Takoyaki ?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  “Akina, love you,”

  “Sigh, yeah, yeah.”

  The car grew warm; I loosened my clothes and kicked off my shoes. Kisses found her cheeks.

  “Stop, please. It’s dangerous, I’m driving.”

  Heh. “You’re looking pretty tomato-like too.”

  “That was your lipstick”

  A deep sigh escaped her lips.

  The city lights slid past as Akina’s car drove forward, carrying us away from the noise and into the night.

  I followed the radio and hummed a country melody that carried the scent of home, Akina’s body swaying gently to its rhythm, my voice spilling into the words — take me home, to the place I belong ?

  ☆

  To be fair, many in those high-earning roles do bear responsibilities to society. Whether they fulfill them well is another question. And we must not forget those who labor quietly behind the scenes, the hands that keep life turning, the hands that are dirty and keep the world clean.

  All familiar faces, some changed, some not.

  Don’t lose yourself in the gleam of gold and paper.

  They change people or reveal who they truly are. Even after death.

  Akina explained over takoyaki, “Society is twofold, those with money seeking returns, and those without money seeking capital to realize their goals, be it for business, a home, or a clinic.”

  Obviously, if money can be safely and efficiently mobilized from the former to the latter, rather than lying dormant, the public interest will be well served, in that the economy will then prosper.

  But is it spent wisely on our people?

  Are these engines of the economy really running—or just idling under the influence?”

  I hope they’re not as drunk as we are.

  She raised an eyebrow with a sly smile.

  “This disease, spreading silent and unseen.”

  “Social Neurosis Syndrome,” I added, “one of the toxic contagions of our time — SNS doing its subtle work.”

  ☆

  A cool towel touched my forehead, gentle hands smoothing back my hair.

  “Akina”

  “What?”

  “I love you”

  “Sleep now, you drunkard”

  Laughter filled the night

  What came after is a blur, some things perhaps better left unspoken.

  It was a long night

  Afterword:

  The night gathered their laughter, folding it into the hush as if to keep it for itself. What followed blurred, like the thin seam between dream and waking. Fragile, shifting, and best left untouched. Beyond the walls, the long night waited, holding its secrets close, the air heavy with things yet to come.