Kiyoko And Tanaka Novels & Stories

Traditional wooden beams arched overhead, and low wooden tables with cushioned zabuton seats invited patrons to linger. Aiko Tanaka moved gracefully between the tables in her elegant uniform: a soft pink kimono-style blouse that hugged her petite frame, a crisp white apron tied neatly at her waist, and a pleated skirt that swayed just above her knees. At 24, she was the picture of demure Japanese beauty. Porcelain skin, long black hair pinned up with delicate kanzashi ornaments, and large, doe-like eyes that rarely met a customer’s gaze for long. Yet beneath that polished politeness burned something deeper.

“Kitagawa Sakura. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The woman smiled kindly. “I’m Yamamura Yuriko. Welcome, Sakura-chan.” She gestured to the boy. “This is Kenta. Come on in—I’ve prepared some snacks.” Heri asked about Akari and his foster father. Yuriko explained that Akari had gone to the shopping street to buy a few things, while her husband was currently on assignment in Canada. “Oh, and I already told him you came,” Yuriko added with a playful laugh. “I may have also mentioned… you brought a girl.”

Sakura was praying very hard Jane would miraculously appear and sort out this mess when she heard a commotion on the other side. She looked up to see the famous Japanese designer Mr. Tachibana coming toward them, his long hair—dyed bleach blond—flying and his long white robe fluttering about him. Beside him was the woman Sakura had been waiting eagerly to meet in person, the woman who had given birth to her twenty-five years ago, Haruka Tanaka, also known simply as Ms. Ruka. She was tall, Sakura realized, with strong, angular face, and thin nose that sat nicely on her face. She was very beautiful.