Page 101 of From Beijing, With Love

“Come to Japan,” Poppy said, not a question but a demand.

“What happened?” Yang asked as he pushed himself up in bed. His grip tightened around his phone. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, but he’s not okay.”

“That doesn’t make as much sense as you think it does.” Yang ran a hand down his face. “Look, it’s late. Sorry if I sound—”

“He’s in love with you, so you need to come to Tokyo before he flies back home.”

Hearing those words—he’s in love with you—tore open Yang’s barely sutured heart. The last few days had left their claw marks on him, and now she was asking him to fly halfway across Asia with the promise of … of what? Nothing had changed since their last goodbye.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it? He had changed.

“You owe him a face-to-face goodbye, at the very least.”

“Does he even know you are calling me right now?”

“Maybe not,” Poppy said, managing to sound more self-righteous than contrite.

Staring out the window, Yang saw the flash of lightning before he heard the thunder. The silence that hung over the phone line felt a lot like a stalemate. He had nothing to say, yet he couldn’t bring himself to hang up. To let go of his last connection to Daniel.

“He loves you,” Poppy finally said. “As much as he pretends to be fine, I know he’s not, because as horribly inconvenient as it is, he’s fucking in love with you.” Her voice softened. “He told me what you said to him. Do you still feel that way?”

Her words rang louder than the thunder outside, splitting him open. He didn’t have an answer for her. He was done with lying—to other people, to himself—but what good would the truth do now?

“Goodbye, Poppy.” He said the only thing he could, and hung up.

He fell back onto his pillow. It had begun to downpour outside, like he’d wanted. If he just closed his eyes for long enough, maybe the sleep paralysis monsters would be quiet.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOURDaniel

The week had flown by in a blur. After the weekend, Poppy had to work again, which left Daniel to explore Tokyo by himself. She made him pinkie-promise that he would leave the hotel, daily. A promise he actually kept. Sure, there were a couple of days where he only left the hotel for a few hours—enough time to have lunch at a carefully selected and thoroughly researched restaurant—but he never spent a whole day hiding in his room. This was his first time traveling alone (that first night in Beijing didn’t count). When he pushed beyond the discomfort, there was something wondrous about exploring a new place by himself, not filtered through anyone else’s lenses.

But as much as Daniel adored Japan, he was ready to go home. With his Amsterdam-bound flight leaving at an ungodly hour the following Monday, this was his last weekend in Asia. The only thing on Poppy’s must-do list was an interactive exhibit, and Daniel happily booked the tickets. Whatever she wanted to do on their last weekend together, he was game.

They had an hour to kill before their timed entrance to the exhibit, and Daniel had a choice to make: a cat café or an owl café. Being on the receiving end of an owl’s death stare after the fucker rotated its head 180 degrees was apparently all it took to trigger the latent owl phobia he hadn’t known he had. That landed him in his current situation—sipping on a melon soda in a shade that could only be described as fluorescent green while being absolutely surrounded by cats.

“Having fun?” Daniel asked as he sank deeper into one of the massage chairs of the café. Beside him, Poppy sat with four cats clambering all over her like a horde of furry zombies for the cat-shaped lollipop in her hand.

“Maybe a little.”

“Don’t lie, I can see that glowing smile, and so can all the cats.” Daniel turned the intensity of the chair up to ten. Yes, please. He let out an audible sigh as four pairs of heated massage rollers kneaded his sore muscles, working out the knots one by one.

“What about you? You’re not bored?” Poppy asked, somehow managing to fit all four cats on her lap.

“Are you kidding? There’s AC, I’m getting massaged, and I get to watch you live your best cat-lady life. This might actually be the best thing I’ve done in Japan,” Daniel said, only half kidding. As much as he’d liked the places he’d visited—some historical, some futuristic, and some downright bizarre—and loved the food he’d eaten, he was always happiest to be somewhere where he could just relax.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, because we are leaving in exactly twenty minutes,” Poppy ordered.

“Yes, ma’am.” Daniel saluted. He sank deeper into the chair, relishing every last second of the air conditioning before they had to venture back out into the scorching heat.

Daniel pressed a water bottle to his neck. The coldness could not seep into his veins fast enough. The line snaked in front of them toward the three-story building that resembled a giant shipping container, completed with corrugated walls. It was fitting, since they were right by Tokyo Bay.

After they eventually made it into the exhibit, they were instructed to go barefoot, as the first two acts involved water. With their shoes stowed away in the lockers, they followed the prescribed route through the hallway, which was painted matte black from floor to ceiling. The distinct sound of rushing water echoed, its source concealed behind a heavy set of black velvet curtains.

On the wall, a glowing plaque read “ACT I—MIGRATION.”

“Ready?” Poppy asked, her hand poised on the curtain.