At school the next day, the VHS player came up when talking with Natalie.

Eyes wide and squirming in her seat, she said, “I’m coming over after school, okay?”

I chuckled, smile wry. “You have club, right?” I said.

She waved me off. “I’ll quit,” she said.

“You’re gonna be their ace, you think they’ll let you?” I asked.

She snorted, settling into a pout, arms crossed. “When can I come over, then, since you know everything?”

Trying not to laugh at her sulking, I glanced Sakura. “Well, Sunday? I’m free after lunch. Or Saturday afternoon, I guess? I don’t know if your parents will let you sleep over, but you can stay as late as you’re allowed.”

Natalie switched straight into a grin, pointing at me. “It’s a date!”

“Hime-chan and Sakura will be there too,” I said.

“Aww, I get to hang out with your little princess? I’ll def be there,” she said, and I only now realised we’d been talking in English.

Turning to Sakura and seeing her pout, I let out my amusement in a sigh. “Natalie’s going to come over Saturday or Sunday—”

“Or both!” Natalie happily interjected.

I rolled my eyes. “Or both to watch stuff,” I said.

Clued in now, Sakura’s expression softened and she said, “Oh, that’s great. The more the merrier.”

If “I” didn’t know her better, that would’ve sounded entirely sincere, but “I” did know her very well and something sounded off. I put it aside for now, thinking she was grumpy about us using English.

At the end of the day, I was reminded of that moment, Sakura a little clingy on the walk home. She walked so close we kept bumping, not really talking. It felt awkward in a way I didn’t understand, but I didn’t hate it, almost feeling excited? Like I was waiting for her to bump into me, wanting to giggle every time she did. I mean, she was being so silly.

As if that wasn’t enough, she negotiated with Himawari to have an English lesson with me. Apparently, after all I’d done, I was only worth a few sweets to my precious sister.

Jokes aside, it was nice to have someone else around. When it was just me and Himawari, I felt like I had to give her as much attention as I could, an invisible pressure. With Sakura around, it wasn’t so bad. Not to mention, Sakura also chatted with Himawari.

But thinking like that made me feel guilty. I’d only been here for a couple of weeks and already found looking after Himawari a chore, despite telling Toyama she didn’t have to worry, despite telling myself I was such a good person for doing the bare minimum to be a decent person. It didn’t matter that I was better than our parents, it only mattered that Himawari deserved better than they gave her, and maybe than I gave her.

Maybe having Sakura over wasn’t a good thing, giving me too much time to think.

Just kidding.

If Sakura noticed my fluctuating mood, she didn’t say anything. I didn’t think she did, looking too happy, apparently enjoying the English lesson. Well, “lesson”—I put on old Scooby Doo episodes and translated them with her. Himawari enjoyed it too, so two birds with one stone and all that.

We did that every afternoon for an hour or so until Saturday. Natalie, in her pursuit of British comedy, had asked to stay over at Sakura’s instead, an easier sell since Sakura’s parents were there. So Sakura, Himawari, and I helped Mrs Fujiyama prepare dinner, then Natalie came over after her club, had a shower, and joined us for dinner. The Fujiyamas’ house already cramped, us youngsters ate over at my house.

Then it was VHS time.

“Oh, my, gosh—I’d kiss your mom if she was here,” Natalie said, in complete awe at the extensive collection of tapes.

I chuckled, not at all bothered by the reminder of my mother. After that first time, when Sakura calmed me, I’d taken to paying respects to my mother once a day. The guilt and anxiety buried in this body had melted away since then.

To my surprise, Natalie wanted to watch the Wallace and Gomit movies. “I thought you’d want something like Jeeves and Wooster,” I said jokingly.

She smiled and it was a pretty smile. I didn’t really notice before, she usually sat to the side and her smiles were usually more like grins, but a small smile made her look mature. Well, that was partly because she looked more like an adult to begin with.

“You said Hima-tan liked them, right? I don’t want to bore her,” Natalie said.

Hearing her newly-given nickname, Himawari perked up, but didn’t understand what Natalie had said. I debated over arguing the point before accepting that, as American as Natalie looked, she still had Japanese manners in her blood. More seriously, I appreciated she cared about Himawari.

My expectations were again subverted when we began watching. I’d thought Natalie would want to talk to me about it, the same way she always wanted to chat about whatever show she’d watched at home. Instead, she sort of adopted Himawari, sitting together on the floor together, acting as translator, which left me and Sakura on the couch.

Although strange, Natalie had wished she had a cute little sister and moaned about never getting to come see Himawari.

It didn’t bother me or anything, and Sakura certainly didn’t mind, sitting close and whispering to me the whole time, either trying to translate it herself or asking me to. Since we’d already watched them, she remembered quite well and I couldn’t help but praise her, patting her head and whispering, “Good job.”

I expected her to fuss, but she just looked at me with a bright smile and slight blush.

Eventually time for Himawari to go to bed, I left Sakura and Natalie with free reign over what to watch and indulged Himawari for a while. Brushed out her hair, looked at her homework marks for the week, listened to her.

Once she quieted down, I asked, “Did you enjoy movie night?”

She thought for a moment, then nodded.

“How about, next Sunday, all of us go to the sentō and come back for pizza and movies?” I asked.

Her sleepy face instantly scrunched up into a smile. “Yeah,” she said, voice still soft with sleepiness.

“I’ll see if they want to, otherwise we can go by ourselves. Or should we invite Kiko-sensei?” I asked, that joke more for myself than Himawari—I would’ve loved to see Toyama embarrassed over it. Oh, but, she was Japanese, so it probably wouldn’t fluster her….

“I want… onee-san,” Himawari mumbled, the nuance of what she said telling me she meant Sakura and Natalie. Plurals weren’t always clear in Japanese and she called me onee-chan.

Stroking her head, I nodded. “I’ll ask them.”

She softly smiled, then said, “Oyasumi.”

That was strange: we didn’t normally say good night when I put her to bed. It was like parting words, but I stayed with her until she was asleep. So, I asked, “What’s that for?”

Her hand slipped out and squeezed mine. “You can go”—she yawned—“see your friends. I’ll be okay.”

“Sure?” I asked, not entirely believing her, but she was eleven, not exactly a baby.

“Mm, I’m sure,” she said, giving me a bright smile.

I still hesitated, but at least wanted to respect her decision. “Okay. Oyasumi,” I said, giving her forehead a kiss. At the door, I looked back, but she still had that smile. “I love you.”

Her mouth quirked into an even more precious smile. “I love you too,” she said.

Back in the lounge, I brought a silly smile of my own with me, fortunately the other two too interested in the TV to notice it. Strangely enough, the seating situation hadn’t changed: Sakura on the couch, Natalie still on the floor.

“Don’t you want to sit on the couch?” I asked, walking over.

Sakura’s head snapped around and she quickly said, “Welcome back.”

Natalie took longer to speak, her gaze lingering on the episode of Jeeves and Wooster until she paused it. “I’m fine here. Back in the States, I was pretty much banned from the couches ’cause I was always covered in mud.”

I chuckled, then, seeing Sakura’s curious expression, realised Natalie had slipped into English, so I translated for her. As I did, I sat down, back in place at Sakura’s side.

“How d’you like it?” I asked Sakura, gesturing at the TV.

“It’s, um, harder to follow,” she said, full of politeness.

Giving her shoulder a pat, I said, “Don’t worry, half the words don’t even mean anything in English.”

“Yes, it is quite hard to translate,” Natalie said; after her casual English, her Japanese sounded unusually polite, but that feeling quickly faded as she kept talking. “I don’t even know if I can explain half the jokes in Japanese, so it’s good you’re back.” Natalie giving me a grin, I responded with a wry smile; the only reason I could actually follow these shows was because the old me was English and grew up on some of them—“I” had fallen out of practice after my mother passed, but Natalie had helped “me” remember enough to chat.

Nothing else important to say, Natalie put the show back on. Both a native English and Japanese speaker, I helped Sakura with the jokes without a thought, giggles flowing from both my guests.

It was nice. Watching this old show, surrounded by laughter. Made me feel young again.

We kept going late into the night, Sakura’s parents lenient since we were just next door, but even that had a limit. On the way out, Sakura whispered, “I’ll try to keep her away until sensei leaves.”

Honestly, I didn’t care. I trusted Natalie not to spread it around. But it was more Toyama’s secret than mine, so I said, “Thank you, I’ll let you know when she goes.”

Our whispering not all that subtle, Natalie asked, “Haven’t you two flirted enough already?”

Sakura blushed, going all shy, while I laughed it off. “Oyasumi.”

“G’night,” Natalie said in English, Sakura returning my oyasumi with a little wave. Standing in the doorway, I watched them walk next door and enter—just in case Sakura forgot her keys.

Then I was alone. Well, not entirely alone. I still had my thoughts.

Back in the lounge, I plopped down, sort of unnerved at how the cushions barely moved, this body so light. Himawari was right to worry I wasn’t eating enough.

Not wanting to fixate on that, my gaze drifted to the box of VHS tapes. Having Natalie over really was nice. She was like my anchor to my old life: looked western, spoke English, liked the things I did.

And she didn’t ask much of me. Not that Sakura asked too much of me, but I was with her a lot. Natalie sort of just turned up and amused herself. Also, Sakura certainly liked Himawari, but Natalie seemed like she really did want to adopt Himawari.

Really, if both of them could just merge together, everything would be perfect.

Jokes aside, I knew I probably just “liked” Natalie more because it felt less weird to me. Even though they were the same age, Natalie looked more grown up, the way she teased Sakura also making her seem older. So, to me, Sakura was like a teen and Natalie was like a young adult, a subtle difference.

At my old job, we’d brought in kids like Natalie for work experience and summer placements and things—giving young women connections with female programmers, relevant experience in the industry, and references. I could imagine Natalie as one of them. Well, not that Natalie could use a PC, glued to her phone. There was a reason she hadn’t downloaded the shows and instead relied on DVDs (and now VHS tapes).

I didn’t really know where my thinking was headed. It wasn’t like I wanted to replace Sakura with Natalie, more that this new me wished Natalie had more time to spend with us. If her club wasn’t after school every day, if she was in our class, if she lived close enough to walk to school with us.

After all, it wasn’t like I could spend more time with Toyama. She was the only one I really saw as a peer. Not to mention, I wanted to tease her more, see her cute blush again.

Smiling to myself, my eyes fluttered closed and sleep took me.