Jeez. I didn't expect the restaurant to be this crowded; I suppose I should have, considering the day.  I’m now really glad I made the reservation a month in advance.  We start to move through the crowd, led by a clearly bored host. He made a face at us when we came in, like he doesn't imagine I’d be the kind of guy who can afford a place like this. But I got a little bit of extra cash from my parents last week, so I can at least show Emi a bit of a good time. Also, Meiko slipped me a couple thousand yen while Emi was still getting ready as well, so that will help.  Finally, we reach our table and receive our menus.  I decide now is a good time to give Emi a bit of a surprise.
 
“Hey, Emi. I, um… I noticed you weren't wearing any earrings tonight.”
 
“Oh! Yeah, Mom said they weren't necessary. Did- did you think I should have? This is kind of a fancy restaurant, I didn't realize…”
 
“No no no, nothing like that. I actually asked her to say that. I, um, got you something. Here.  Happy Valentine’s Day, Emi.”
 
I pull out a small box from my overcoat on the back of my chair, and present it to Emi.  Her nervous expression quickly changes to a wide smile as she removes the small amount of extra packaging and opens the little black box. Within is a pair of small, dangly earrings, alternating red and blue stones set in white gold. They were a bit pricy, but Emi’s worth it.
 
“Oh my god! Hisao, they’re beautiful! Thank you!”
 
She immediately leans over the table and plants a kiss on my lips, an action I was not expecting until later.  While I experience a brief state of mental free fall, commonplace for Emi-kisses, she deftly puts the earrings on and poses for me. Her hair, tied up in a complex bun-like system that must have taken ages, allows a clear view. I must be psychic, as the she’s chosen blue hairpins that match the blue jewels almost exactly, and the red stones are strikingly similar to her dress, a short cut, strapless piece that very snugly fits Emi's lithe form all the way down, excepting a slight taper at the very bottom to allow movement. Nevertheless, it can’t be comfortable, but certainly not as uncomfortable as her high heels. She’s wearing long black stockings to cover her prosthetics, and the high heels are very pretty, but look like they might be awkward to control without delicate ankle muscles.  
 
Nevertheless, I don’t believe Emi really minds right now. She’s merely amused at the blank expression on my face as a struggle to take in her flawless beauty. Finally, I compose myself enough to speak.
 
“Wow. They look great on you, if I may say so. Almost enough to distract me from your eyes.”
 
At this, Emi blushes adorably, and it’s my turn to laugh a bit as she looks away in an unexpectedly shy manner.
 
“Flatterer.”
 
We share a smile, and finally look at our menus.   After about a minute of skimming through the menu, I realize this place is even more expensive than I thought. I panic slightly, but try to compose myself for Emi's sake. I don’t want her to think I can’t handle it. I glance up at her, preparing my smoothest smile, and find Emi is leaning over the table towards me with a similarly panicked expression.
 
“Hisao! This place is expensive! And I don’t think I've even heard of any of the appetizers….”
 
I let out a slight sigh of relief.  If she’s also noticed the insane prices, she’s probably not going to push any of the top-tier items. Nevertheless, I've got to play the gentleman, and pretend it’s no big deal.
 
“It’s nothing, Emi. I've got it covered, order whatever you want. Uh… maybe we could share an appetizer, though?”
 
The words slip out of my mouth with unintended nervousness. I’m trying to sound suave, but I’m also really hoping Emi doesn't decide to order a massive fish platter or something in the 5-digit range. Despite my bravest efforts, Emi sees through me. As always.
 
“Hah! You’re way out of your league here, Hisao. It’s okay, I appreciate the thought. This is a really nice place, I’m sure even the small stuff is tasty.”
 
I put on an honest grin, this time.
 
“Seriously, Emi, I got this. I've been saving up, and I got some extra cash from my parents for this very occasion. As long as you stay away from the top-tier items, I can pay for it.”
 
Luckily, Emi can feel my honesty shining through the nervousness. She beams at me, and that precious smile makes the inevitable blow to my wallet completely worth it.
 
Desperate to change the subject, however, I start scanning the restaurant. Emi continues browsing the menu, often with a confused look on her face – though I can’t tell if she doesn't know what an item is, or if she simply can’t believe a simple dish could be that price. I noticed many of both when I researched this place.  Eventually, I spot something I was looking for – a man, clearly in his 60’s yet with a deep orange tan and spiky hair, and wearing a gaudy Hawaiian shirt. He is accompanied by a young woman who can’t be much older than us, wearing a dress he must have paid for. I attempt to casually point them out to Emi, without drawing their attention, though a couple at the table next to us notices when we both start giggling.
 
“Oh my god!” Emi exclaims. “Does he know how ridiculous he looks?”
 
“I don’t think so. People are just crazy. Hey, look at them!”
 
I point out another couple on their way out: The man is wearing a suit, but with shorts, and his date has a strikingly large hairdo that seems reminiscent of 17th century France.
 
After we order – sharing a meat and cheese platter for the first course, and each getting one of the house special noodle dishes second - Emi points out a few more; a man with a Mohawk, a woman wearing a hat and long black gloves, even while eating, and various other couples in which one party is significantly older than the other. I guess even in high-class establishments, weirdoes find their way in.
 
Between bouts of giggling, and staring at people’s outfits, I notice one table near us, several middle aged people, keep glancing over at us.
 
“Hey, Emi?”
 
“Hm?”
 
 
“Do you think we stand out just as much as those people? Some of the older people keep staring at us, as well.”
 
“Are you sure it’s not just my legs, Hisao? You know people are always staring. I’m used to it; it’s not a big deal.”
 
“Emi, you’re wearing black stockings. And they’re under the table. I think we’re just too young to fit in.”
 
“Hey, maybe you’re right! But I love it, Hisao. Thanks for taking me here – even if it’s weird.”
 
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
 
This time, I’m the one with a massive grin on my face, and Emi gets to blush.
 
Finally, the food arrives, and we dig in, giving no more regard to the people around us. We give a token attempt to act “civilized”, but we still, as always, eat more food than seems humanly possible.
 
 
Eventually, we finish everything, and I manage to pay for it all. Emi wanted to help, but I didn't even let her look at the bill.
 
“You’re such a gentleman, Hisao.”
 
Emi giggles a bit and blushes deeply, as I pull out her chair and present her coat in a single flourish.  Seeing her impressed with me gives me a bit of extra confidence, and I accentuate the moment with a slight bow.
 
“At your service, milady.”
 
Emi plays along, and acts as graceful as possible as we leave the table – taking a hold on the crutch of my arm and taking light steps through the crowd. Unfortunately, the people around us are a bit careless of their movements, and Emi is pushed a bit too hard by someone backing away from the bar. With the act she was putting on, she was even less stable than just with the high heels, and it seems like disaster was inevitable.
 
“Hey- Ahhhhhh!”
 
Emi's scream is a terrible sound to hear; luckily I’m close enough to catch her before she hits the floor. However, given the strange angle of her fall, her right prosthetic has come off.  Emi quickly sits up and grabs it, attempting to put it back on, but a number of people have now noticed and are crowding around. Some people offer help, but Emi waves them off. She seems to be getting flustered under the pressure, though, and what is usually a natural maneuver becomes a clumsy, ineffective effort.  People around us are whispering. Not everything I hear is positive.  I don’t think I've ever seen Emi this vulnerable.   She’s always such a powerful force, never caring what “normal” people think, but now… she’s a scared little girl who can’t even walk out of a restaurant.
 
I snap out of my stupor.  I've helped Emi do this before, so I’m able to help her strap the leg back on and quickly lift her to her feet. She’s still a little wobbly, but I have her lean on my shoulder and we move as quickly as possible towards the door, despite me basically carrying her.  I vaguely hear the hostess apologizing to us, but I filter it out along with all the other chatter going on. I have one goal right now, and that is getting Emi to safety.  We make it out, I immediately hail a taxi, and we get in. I tell the driver to take us back to my house (my parents are out of town for the weekend), and finally take a breath. I look over at Emi, and notice something I completely did not expect.
 
She’s laughing.
 
Once more, I’m stunned.
 
“My hero!” Emi exclaims, between giggles. She’s deftly returned her right leg to a comfortable position and is sitting up next to me, acting all prim and proper like we had been playing at before the accident.  Her hands are folded in her lap, and as I look she swoons theatrically and kisses me on the cheek. “Darling, you were so very brave back there. Thank you for saving me.”
 
“Are… you mocking me? Come on, Emi!”
 
“Maybe a little.” She grins. “I mean, I barely tripped, and you carried me out of there like a bomb had gone off.”
 
“I was worried! I don’t ever want to see you hurt. I know you can take care of yourself, but I like taking care of you too.”
 
Emi blushes. “I know. I thought it was very sweet.” She kisses me again, more deeply. “Thank you, Hisao. I’m glad we’re out of there. I was really uncomfortable.” She fidgets a bit in her seat as she says this. It’s not the prosthetic bothering her, anymore, but rather the dress. It’s a beautiful piece, and I know she loves it, but it’s far more restricting than Emi likes. Funny, that despite her fall, she’s still more concerned about dinner itself.
 
“Yeah, I agree. The food was good, at least. Didn't you think?”
 
“It was! Even though you wouldn't let me get everything I wanted.”
 
“You wanted everything on the menu!”
 
“Not my fault. You’re the gentleman, you’re supposed to get it for me~”
 
“Next time, okay? For now, let’s just relax. I’d like to spend the rest of the evening without too much excitement.”
 
She grins wickedly. “Hisao, if there’s a ‘rest of the evening’ planned, I’m gonna make sure it’s as exciting as possible.”