I was walking through Shibuya with my stream on, hunting down this steak bowl place I’d been craving since I first visited Japan three years ago. Suddenly, this guy stops me. He says something in Japanese that I don’t catch, then switches to English. “Where are you from?
”
“The UK. You? ”
He points at my phone. “Are you streaming?
”
“Yeah, I’m on Twitch. ”
Then he says two words that make my brain short-circuit: “Nampa. Kawaii. ”
I laughed nervously and kept moving, because I had zero idea what either of those words meant.
My chat, on the other hand, exploded. “Did he just call me kawaii? ”
“Yes, and he also said nampa, which means flirty. He was hitting on you.
”
“Wait, seriously? ”
“Look at his profile picture. He’s literally Nappa from Dragon Ball. ”
I squinted at my phone.
The guy’s avatar was a bald, angry-looking anime character with a huge beard. My chat was in hysterics. I had just been flirted with by someone I’d mistaken for a Gundam pilot, and I’d probably told him I live in a giant robot instead of saying I lived alone. I realized my mistake mid-sentence.
“Uh, I’m actually meeting my husband and son right now. Gotta run. ”
Classic. I dodged that one by pretending to be a married mother.
My chat was dying laughing. A few minutes later, I passed the exact Family Mart where I’d gotten into some trouble the day before. I didn’t want to relive that, so we speed-walked past it and kept going. That’s when I remembered something important.
I hadn’t eaten all day. I’d woken up at four in the afternoon, slept badly, and survived on two iron supplements and some makeup. My friend Pingy was being a legend, treating me to this steak bowl, and I was absolutely starving. We found the place.
Or at least, I thought we did. It had relocated so many times that I wasn’t even sure anymore. I walked up to the counter, and as I was getting ready to order, I looked at the menu screen and stopped talking mid-sentence. Because right there on the display, huge and glowing, was the thing I hadn’t touched in three years.
An egg. My voice went a little weird. “Uh, can I get an extra large? And can I add an egg on top, please?
”
“Sure. ”
“And extra whipped butter? ”
“Of course. ”
“And a small salad?
”
“No problem. ”
The girl taking my order spoke perfect English. I was impressed. Then my screen blew up.
“A girl just donated! A girl, a girl, a girl! ”
I blinked at the notification. Somebody named “Mom” had just sent me money.
“You really don’t have to. Pingy already said he was paying for this meal. ”
But the donation was already there, meant for my next meal. I smiled at the thought of having a snack later, totally warm and grateful.
Just then, the order came out. I looked down at the bowl and forgot about everything else. A huge serving of rice, topped with tender beef slices, a perfectly cooked egg on top, and a mountain of crispy fried garlic chips. And on the side, whipped butter so creamy it looked like it would melt in my mouth.
I was completely ready to dig in. I took one deep breath, ready to have my first proper meal of the day. And then I saw it. On the counter, in front of the steam rising off my bowl, there was a small piece of paper I hadn’t noticed before.
It had something written on it by hand, in careful block letters. My stomach dropped. I picked it up and read it.
I set the bowl down and slowly looked up.
