Damn this medication, I couldn't get to sleep. Of course I was tired, spending the entire day with Miki isn't exactly a relaxing stroll.
        Bringing up the subject of the girl sleeping next to me wasn't very popular in the vast senate hall of my mind. Half of the representatives were angry at her because… well… she just did some things just to hide herself. Not literally, but she was close but distant at the same time, she was close but she was still keeping a tiny paper wall to cover her true face. It was both interesting and aggravating.
        So after a little senatorial drama was happening in my mind over the girl next to me, the girl next to me got up. I couldn't see because my eyes were closed, and I kept them closed, thinking Miki was just getting some water.
        But then, she did something unexpected, she kneeled on the bed, and sat right down on my thighs.
        She started to talk "Hey, Hisao, I know you're asleep, and that's probably the only way I could confess this to your face, and I think you deserve that, even though you are a chump." She laughed to herself, an airy, dry laugh. Good thing the room was dark, because I couldn't help smiling either.
        "Everybody wonders about my ethnicity, so I guess that's where I'll start. My father is a Japanese diplomat and my mother was a cop in Mexico. When I was six, I went to visit my mother, like I did every year. And she suggested she show me where she worked." Miki took a deep, shuddering breath. "We were driving in the patrol car until we came on a couple cars blocking the freeway. She went out and told me to stay inside. Several men came out of the cars and," another deep breath, more strained and airy than the last "they killed her, hacked her up with machetes. They came to the car and dragged me out, I screamed. They took me over to my mother, and said something in Spanish. They took the machete, and cut off my hand. The police came, and the men ran away. The men didn't speak Japanese so they took me to the embassy and I took the next flight to Japan. I took six years of therapy until I could be sent to middle school. On my first day of middle school, I broke a kid's arm because he asked me my last name. Three more years of therapy, and now Yamaku. And that's why I act tough, and aloof, and like I don't care. Because I'm scared, I'm scared I might lose you, or this place, or anyone." I could tell she was crying because I could feel the tears hit my shirt. "I don't want to lose you Hisao, I love you Hisao don't go… please!" It was too much, I sat up and hugged her. She sobbed into my arm. I said the only thing I could think of.
 
"I'm not going anywhere."
She smiled,
"Thanks, dork."
We lay back down on the bed, and she closed her eyes and went to sleep in my arms.
And I did the same in hers.
Maybe it was't the medication…