Page 63 of Prickly Romance

Dejonae nervously shoves the menus at me. “You order.”

I smile at yet another display of uncertainty. Why do I find her shyness so endearing?

After ordering two bowls of miso soup and rice, I hand the menus back to the waitress. She dips her head again and shuffles into the kitchen.

Dejonae closes her eyes. “The music is really good.”

I take a moment to listen to the soft instrumental and realize that it is my grandparent’s song.

Curious, I peer at her. “What do you like about it?”

“It’s hard to put into words.” Eyes still closed, she lifts her hands and runs her fingers as if playing an invisible piano. “There’s something haunting about it. It gets into your head and it kind of… expands. But it doesn’t push anything away. The bigger it gets, the more it ties everything together.” Her eyes open and she winces. “That made no sense, did it?”

“It made sense to me,” I murmur.

“Really?”

I slide chopsticks from the bucket in the middle of the table and hand one over to her. “This song is my family’s.”

“No.” Her jaw drops. “Why didn’t I recognize it?”

“Most people would not be able to recognize it by the sound alone. We have no wish to be famous.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” She breaks her chopsticks apart cleanly. “Most bands would be touring the world, hitting every concert hall and television interview they can. It’s so weird that your family chooses not to step into the spotlight.”

“The music speaks for itself and this is all we need.” I shake my head. “The world has become so consumed with material things, flashy music, vapid connections that the things that lack substance seem to rise to the top simply because they’re louder or flashier. There is honor in stepping back and letting our work make the difference.”

She purses her lips. I am learning that this expression indicates her disagreement with a thought. “I don’t think flashy music is ‘vapid’ or lacking substance. Not every emotion has to be complex. Sometimes, there’s power in simplicity. Everyone can understand what it’s like to get their heart broken. Everyone can remember the happiness of summer. The simpler it is, the more people can relate to it. That’s important too. In my mind, music is supposed to bring people together. If we just use it to show how superior we are to the ‘vapid, flashy, material-obsessed’ people, then that just makes us snobs.”

I tilt my head. “An interesting take.”

“You’re talking to a future professional songwriter,” she says. “From what I’ve studied, your family is the exception, not the rule.”

“My family had a concentrated sound and the determination to work hard.”

“And the millions of singers around the world don’t?”

I lean back.

“Your family was unique enough to catch the eye of a huge movie producer. Your copyright lawyers are renowned for keeping your work safe. You made a killing by forging your own path and sticking to traditional music, but not everyone can afford an IP lawyer to hunt down the counterfeits. And not everyone can break out into the Sazuki family level of success by going against the grain.”

I watch her intently.

She licks her lips, her eyes darting to the side. “What?”

“You are very passionate about this.”

“Because it matters to me.”

I realize that I enjoy hearing her speak her mind. She has a clear point of view and a fervent way of expressing it.

Our food arrives. Steam pours from the miso soup and fried tofu. The rice is delivered in an iron pot.

Dejonae’s eyes widen. “Are we supposed to eat all of this?”

“You eat what you can handle.” I take my empty bowl, scoop rice into it and slide it over to her.

After sharing out my own food, I bring my hands together. “Itadakimasu.”

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