This morning she'd told Tamayo as she left for work, "I'll be a little late tonight." She realized now that ever since then she'd been telling herself, over and over, that this was nothing to get all worked up over.

She'd e-mailed Yuichi, promising to meet him. He'd asked her where would be a good place, and she'd answered back. He'd asked her what time would work for her, and she'd replied. Simple enough, but as soon as she put down her cell phone, she started to feel uneasy, wondering whether she was really going through with it. Making a date had been easy, but she'd never given any thought to how she really felt about it.

No way am I going through with this, Mitsuyo murmured. I'm not that brave I'm not that brave.

Perhaps she wasn't, but she did think about what she should wear. And she did imagine the two of them meeting up at the station.

As morning dawned she couldn't see herself actually going on the date. Couldn't see herself going, yet she told Tamayo she'd be late. Couldn't see herself going, yet she changed her clothes and left the house. Wasn't brave enough to actually meet him, but now here she was standing right across from the station.

She must have been standing there for a while, for people rushing to the station passed her. Mitsuyo stepped to one side and sat back on a railing. A middle-aged woman behind her, thinking perhaps that she wasn't feeling well, shot her a sympathetic look. The sun was strong, so she didn't feel the cold. Just the railing digging painfully into her rear end.

It was already past eleven, the time they'd agreed to meet. From her perch on the railing, she could see the traffic circle in front of the station. People were going in and out of the station entrance but none were likely candidates. Just then a white car roared into the traffic circle. The car's tires squealed so loudly as it took the corner that Mitsuyo, some distance away, instinctively stood up. There was no doubt about it-this was the car whose photo Yuichi had shown her in an e-mail the night before. "I can't go through with this," Mitsuyo said softly. But despite her words, her right leg took a small step forward.

What do I do if he isn't happy with what he sees? If he's disappointed by me-what then? These thoughts in mind, she started walking.

"It's no big deal. Seeing a guy I met online is no big deal," no big deal," she repeated, forcing her feet to move forward. She found it incredibly strange that she'd be approaching the car of some man she didn't know. She was surprised that she had this much courage. she repeated, forcing her feet to move forward. She found it incredibly strange that she'd be approaching the car of some man she didn't know. She was surprised that she had this much courage.

The door of the white car opened just as Mitsuyo was about to enter the traffic circle. She stopped, and watched as a tall blond man came out. In the winter sunlight his hair looked several shades lighter than the pictures he'd sent her.

The man glanced in her direction, but soon looked back toward the entrance to the station. He shut the car door and leaped over the railing. Mitsuyo steadily watched this from behind one of the trees that lined the road. The man was younger than she'd thought. Thinner, too, and kinder looking. She was sure she would take it no further. She didn't think she'd find the courage no matter how hard she looked within herself.

The man disappeared inside the station for a moment, then emerged again, cell phone in hand. For an instant her eyes met his. She turned away and sat back down on the railing.

I'll count to thirty and if he hasn't come here by then I'll go home, she thought. He must have seen her face. She wanted him to make the next move. She was afraid that he'd be disappointed once he met her. But she also would hate to run away after coming this far and later regret it.

In the end, she counted to five but then the numbers wouldn't come. She didn't know how long she sat there, but as she stared at her feet a shadow fell over her legs.

"Hey ..." a timid voice said from above her. She looked up and saw the man standing there in the sunlight filtering down through the leaves of the trees.

"My name is Shimizu...."

Maybe it was the way he stood there, all shy. Maybe it was the way the winter sun shone on his skin. Or maybe it was the fearful look in his eyes. But in that instant something changed for her. She felt as if her life up to that point was now over. Something new was about to begin-she had no idea what-but Mitsuyo was sure of one thing. She was glad she had come.

Mitsuyo tensely smiled at him, and that tension seemed to infect Yuichi as he nervously looked around.

"You're going to get towed if you park there," she said, her first words to Yuichi, and Mitsuyo surprised herself at how calm she sounded.

"You're right." Rattled, Yuichi started to head back to the car but remembered Mitsuyo was there and came to an abrupt halt. His long limbs made his movements look exaggerated and Mitsuyo couldn't help but smile.

After he left the railing, Yuichi constantly glanced behind him, like someone worried that his child might not follow.

"Your hair looks blonder than in the photos," Mitsuyo called out to him.

Yuichi slowed down so he was walking beside her, and scratched his head. "'Bout a year ago I was looking at myself in the mirror one night, and I suddenly wanted to change something," he mumbled. "Not to look fashionable or anything ..."

"So you went with blond hair?"

"Couldn't think of anything else," he replied, looking serious.

They came up to the car and Yuichi opened the passenger door.

"I think I know how you feel," Mitsuyo said, and with no hesitation at all got in.

Yuichi walked around to the driver's side. He must use some kind of air freshener in the car He must use some kind of air freshener in the car, Mitsuyo thought, because there was a scent of roses. From the moment she climbed inside she could tell he took very good care of his car.

Yuichi settled into the driver's seat, quickly started the engine, and pulled away. She thought he was going to smash into the taxi in front of them, but he accelerated as if he was sure, down to a fraction of an inch, how much clearance he had. His car barely missed the cab. His fingers gripping the steering wheel looked as if he'd just finished fighting somebody. Not that Mitsuyo had ever seen somebody's hands right after a fight, but the long, knobby, gnarled fingers looked terribly beat up.

As the car moved halfway through the traffic circle, Mitsuyo saw the usual scene of the front of the station. Here she was, riding around in a car with a man she'd just met, yet she didn't feel at all uneasy. It was rather the scenery of the front of the station that looked cold and distant to her. After just a few minutes she trusted Yuichi's driving more than she trusted what she saw outside the window.

"I never imagined I'd be driving around with someone like you," Mitsuyo said as the car drove on, the words escaping her.

Yuichi shot her a glance. "Someone like me?" he asked, inclining his head.

"You know ... a blond."

Yuichi scratched his head again.

The words had come out inadvertently, but nothing else could express the way she felt.

Cars with local license plates crawled down the road ahead of them, and Yuichi passed them one after another. He changed lanes smoothly, and every time he accelerated Mitsuyo was sucked back into the soft seat. Whenever she was in a taxi and the driver sped up, Mitsuyo tensed up, but strangely enough with Yuichi's driving she didn't feel nervous. His timing cut everything close when he changed lanes, but she was certain that, like opposite poles of magnets never touching, they'd never hit anything.

"You're really a good driver," she said as Yuichi swung around another car. "I have a license but I never really drive much."

"It's 'cause I drive all the time," Yuichi replied.

They were soon approaching the intersection with Highway 34. If they turned left they'd go past the menswear shop where Mitsuyo worked, go straight and they'd connect up with the Saga Yamato interchange on the interstate.

"So what are we doing?" Mitsuyo asked, not looking at Yuichi, as they stopped for a time at a red light. "Should we go straight to the Yobuko lighthouse? Or have lunch first around here?" It was strange how smoothly the words came out. She had no idea what kind of man this was sitting beside her, and was amazed at her own boldness.

Yuichi clutched the steering wheel hard. Mitsuyo looked at his fists and felt as if it were her body he was squeezing.

"How about we go to a hotel?" Yuichi said as he stared at his fists. For a second it didn't hit her what he was asking and she stared vacantly at him. "We can eat and go for a drive ... after that," Yuichi muttered, his eyes down. He looked just like a child who knew he was going to get scolded but went ahead and begged for a toy anyway.

"What are you talking about?" Mitsuyo gave a quick laugh. Dumbfounded, she turned toward Yuichi and punched him on the shoulder.

Yuichi grabbed her hand. The light had changed and the car behind them blew its horn. He let go of her hand and slowly stepped on the gas.

That's not why I came here! I just wanted to see the lighthouse, she thought. She could think of a number of things to say, but in front of the silent, awkward Yuichi they all felt phony.

"Are you serious?" she replied, so tense her chest hurt, feeling as if the man beside her was already tugging her clothes off. She'd met this guy less than ten minutes ago and yet she was acting this bold. She felt as if she were watching herself from a distance.

Yuichi, eyes fixed forward, nodded. She waited for him to say something, some clever, enticing words, but nothing came.

It had been a long time since she'd seen such open sexual desire. The last time she met a man who'd wanted her this much was back when she worked in the factory and one of the men on the same line who'd been there longer suddenly grabbed her in the parking lot. Mitsuyo had been friendly with him, but still she had struggled and run away. It had all been too sudden; but at the same time, she'd been hoping that something like that would happen, and was afraid he'd find out. She didn't want to admit that that's who she was, a girl waiting for a man to make his sudden, aggressive move.

Almost ten years had passed since then, and she'd mentally replayed that incident over and over. That moment may have decided the kind of life she had now. She felt as if it had changed her into the type of woman who sought out fierce sexual desire from men.

"Going to a hotel is fine with me," Mitsuyo said calmly. Up ahead was a sign for the Saga Yamato interchange.

For some reason she pictured the apartment she shared with Tamayo-their comfortable, snug little place. But today the last thing she wanted was to go back there.

After their car passed the interchange, they headed over a highway overpass that tied all the rice fields below in a large bow and headed in the direction of Fukuoka. They must have been traveling fast, for the billboards and signs they passed sped by in shreds.

"There's a hotel just up ahead." As Yuichi murmured this, it hit Mitsuyo again: Soon I'm going to have sex Soon I'm going to have sex.

Just then she spotted the sign for a love hotel, beyond the fallow fields. Mitsuyo turned to look at Yuichi. His hair wasn't all that thick, and there was a small mole on his chin.

"Do you always take girls to a hotel right away?" she asked, not really caring about the answer. Yuichi had invited her to a hotel as soon as he met her and she'd accepted. That was all that was certain at this moment. Between the two of them right now, that was all that mattered.

"I don't mind ... if you always take girls to a hotel like this."

A narrow road, almost hidden behind the sign, led to the hotel. Their car slowed down. Potted plants lined the road, not a single one with any flowers. The road led directly to the half-underground parking lot. They hadn't passed any other cars on the way over from the interchange, but still the lot was nearly full.

They parked in the last space they could find. When Yuichi turned off the engine it was so silent they could hear each other swallow.

"It's pretty crowded, isn't it?" Mitsuyo said to break the silence. "Guess 'cause it's Saturday." As she said this she remembered last Saturday, and how a customer had complained because they'd made a mistake with the delivery date on some clothes that were being altered.

Yuichi had sped here without hesitating, but now that the car was stopped he didn't make a move. He just sat there, staring at the key in his hand.

"I hope they have a room open," Mitsuyo said, as casually as she could manage.

Yuichi, still looking down, muttered, "Yeah."

"It's kind of a strange feeling, since we just met and now look where we are."

Mitsuyo's voice sounded muffled in the closed car. The more she tried to convince herself that this was no big deal, the weaker her voice sounded.

"I'm sorry," Yuichi suddenly said in a low voice.

"Why are you apologizing?" Mitsuyo was taken aback. "There's no need to apologize," she said. "It's just that it was kind of sudden, so I was surprised. Women get those feelings, too, sometimes. And when they do, they want to hook up with somebody."

The words came out all of a sudden. She couldn't believe it was she saying this. Women want to have sex, too, she was saying, and when they want sex they go out looking for a guy. And she was telling this to a man she'd just met.

Yuichi stared right at her, his eyes seeming to want to say more. Mitsuyo felt herself blushing. It felt as if all her co-workers were eavesdropping. Not her present co-workers, but all her colleagues back at the factory, even her classmates from high school-all of them listening in and laughing at her.

"Anyway," she said, "let's go in and check it out. Who knows, it may be full."

Mitsuyo quickly opened the door and left the car, as if she were fleeing from the confines of the two of them inside together. As soon as she opened the door, the chilly air from the parking lot flowed in.

Once out of the car her body, warmed by the heater in the car, quickly grew cold. Yuichi got out right away and headed toward the entrance of the hotel.

Sex I can take or leave. I just want somebody to hold me. For years that's what I've been looking for. Somebody to hold me. Mitsuyo said this to herself as she stared at Yuichi's back. This is how I really feel, she wanted to tell him. I don't want just anybody to hold me. It's got to be someone who wants me and I want him to hold me tight.

A panel at the self-service check-in counter showed that two rooms were vacant. Yuichi chose the one named Firenze. He hesitated for a moment, then selected "Short Time" above the panel. Immediately the panel indicated the price, 4,800.

Mitsuyo was sick of the kind of life where all she did was look for ways to drown her loneliness.

They rode the elevator to the second floor, to the room right in front of them with the nameplate Firenze Firenze.

The lock was stuck and it took Yuichi several tries before he could get it open. As soon as the door opened, the bright colors of the room leaped out at them. Yellow walls, an orange bedspread, a domed ceiling with a pseudo fresco painted on it. Despite the bright colors, nothing about it looked fresh.

As Mitsuyo entered, she reached back and shut the door. The heater was on high and the air was stuffy and she felt as if she was going to start sweating.

Yuichi strode over to the bed and tossed the key on top of it. The key didn't bounce at all, but sank into the down comforter.

All they could hear was the heater. The room was less a silent place than one from which all other sounds had been sucked away.

"Kind of a gaudy room," Mitsuyo said to Yuichi, who was still facing away from her. Yuichi turned around and suddenly came over to her.

It all happened in a flash. Mitsuyo had been standing there, arms dangling at her sides, when Yuichi grabbed her and held her tight. His hot breath grazed the back of her neck, his stiff penis pushing against her stomach. Through their clothes, they could feel the other's heart beating. Mitsuyo wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. The tighter she held him the more she could feel his hard penis against her soft belly.

A room called Firenze, 4,800 for a short-time stay. A room in a love hotel that tried to have its own personality, but from which all sense of the personal had vanished.

"Promise you won't laugh," Mitsuyo murmured against Yuichi's chest. He started to draw away, but she clung to him so he wouldn't see her face.

"I'm going to tell you the truth, but you have to promise you won't laugh," Mitsuyo said. "I'm ... I'm serious when I send out e-mails. Other people might just send them out to kill time ... but I really wanted to meet somebody. This is sort of lame, huh? And kind of sad? ... Go ahead and make fun of me. But don't laugh laugh at me, okay? If you do, I don't know what I'll ..." at me, okay? If you do, I don't know what I'll ..."

Yuichi was still holding on to her. She knew it was kind of a rash thing to say, but she felt she had to say it now or she'd never ever say it to anyone.

"Me, too," Yuichi said. "I ... was serious, too, about the e-mails."

Mitsuyo, cheek pressed against him, heard his voice through his chest.

Water dripped in the bathroom, splashing against the tiles. It must have collected in the faucet and then gushed out. That was the only other sound she heard, besides the beating of his heart as she pressed her face up against him.

Yuichi suddenly moved and crushed his mouth on hers. A rough, hard kiss, his dry lips scraping her. He sucked at her lips, stuck his tongue inside her mouth. Clinging to his shirt, she held his tongue in her mouth. That burning hot tongue felt as if it were wrapped around her whole body.

She felt weak in the knees. Yuichi moved his tongue from her mouth to her ear, his hot breath reaching deep inside and exciting her.

He roughly pulled off her shirt, then her bra, and standing there she let him kiss her breasts. In front of her was the cheap love hotel bed, and she pictured herself sinking down, half naked, onto the down comforter.

He was rough, except for the gentle fingers that stroked her behind. Her body wanted it even rougher. Was she the violent one, or Yuichi? She couldn't tell. It was as if she was simply manipulating Yuichi, using him to roughly, violently caress herself.

She was naked now, in front of this man. Under the too-bright fluorescent lights, she felt him stroke her thighs, grab her butt, and Mitsuyo felt that any minute now she would cry out.

Yuichi lightly lifted her up and carried her over to the bed. He almost tossed her on top of the comforter, then tore off his shirt and T-shirt. Yuichi's hard chest crushed her breasts. Every time he moved, Mitsuyo's nipples slipped across his skin.

Before she knew it she was lying facedown on the bed, sunk deep in the comforter, as if she were floating on air. Yuichi's hot tongue traced a line down her spine. He stuck his knees between her legs and no matter how much she resisted, her legs opened wide.

She buried her face in the pillow, which smelled of detergent. All the strength drained away from her. Yuichi caressed her roughly, almost as if he were trying to break her. At the same time, he held on to her tightly, as if to repair the damage.

He destroyed her, repaired her, and repeated the process. Mitsuyo no longer knew if she'd gotten destroyed, or if she'd been destroyed from the very beginning. If it was Yuichi doing the breaking, she wanted him to break her even more violently. If her body was broken from the beginning, she wanted his gentle hands to restore her.

"I don't need to see him ever again. Just this one time. This is just for today," she murmured as he caressed her. She didn't really feel this way, but she had to tell herself this, or else she couldn't accept this shameless self, the one she'd never really seen before, the one writhing in ecstasy on the bed.

She heard the metallic sound as Yuichi undid his belt. She had no idea how long she'd been like this on the bed, but it seemed as if Yuichi had been caressing her for a long time. Fifteen minutes? Thirty minutes? No, it felt more like he'd been stroking her with his fingers, his hot body crushing her, for a whole night-or was it two?

She felt her body grow lighter. The bed creaked and the vibration made her head fall off the pillow. She opened her eyes and saw Yuichi standing there, naked.