In America, we have this saying: "One is lonely, two is company, three's a crowd, four on the sidewalk's not allowed." It's a kids' rhyme.

There's a surprising amount of accuracy in those old kids' rhymes!

I never knew just how much of a crowd three people could be until I traded the luxurious apartment in the Toyama 'salt tower' where I'd lived with Mom and Dad for Ryo's cabin in the woods of Azu. It'd always been three of us before- me, Mom and Dad- so I didn't think me, Ryo and Sage would be that big a change. 

Look up erroneous assumption in the dictionary and you'll see my reasoning there as an example of how to make one.

Just to begin with, I didn't stop to consider that one or both of my parents usually wasn't/weren't around half the time. We weren't 'three' often enough to feel crowded. More often than not, we were two or less, the less (of course) being me by my lonely. 

Then there was White Blaze. I wasn't counting him as a fourth person, him being non-human, but I should have. He had his own distinct personality and habits, his preferences and opinions, just like the rest of us, but in my mind I had demoted him to 'exotic pet' and more or less filed him under, 'well, he'll do what Ryo orders him to'. And I didn't give much thought at all to what it would be like to live with a tiger, particularly one as intelligent as the average human being. I did remember that the tiger in question didn't especially like me, and vice versa, but I figured we could just ignore each other for the week or two that I'd be around. 

So, if I had given it some thought, I would've concluded we might be in for a bumpy time of it. At the time, though, I was so glad to get away from the apartment and the unpaid rent and the neighbors who looked askance at me and the parents who couldn't be bothered to be 'Mom' and 'Dad' to me, that I wasn't giving it some thought. In fact, I'm not sure I was thinking much at all. My friends had taken care of me when I was sick, stayed with me while I recovered, and helped me start to get over my fear of that unnatural Inochi orb; they'd accepted me as one of them and explained some things that had puzzled and scared me for a long time. I had missed them a lot when they went back to Azu after I recovered, and I had wished more than a few times that they'd come and stay over again. And now they were taking me into their home. Getting me out of an embarrassing dilemma was the least of it; I was so glad to be with them that I just didn't have room in my head for thoughts, logical or otherwise. 

I was in for a...not a rude awakening, not in Japan, but definitely a disconcerting one.

I thoroughly enjoyed that first train ride out of Toyama. I was still a novice when it came to train-riding and didn't realize how atypical an experience that trip was until later. (It was the middle of the day, on a weekend, so there was plenty of room to sit down, which is not the case during the week.) I was fascinated by the fact that it was all above-ground rails, not like the underground subways in New York, and I was more aware of our speed as well. I don't know if we were actually moving faster, but it seemed that way, judging from the things zipping by outside the window. I also appreciated that while trains do stop at stations, they don't bother with intersections or get caught in traffic jams like cars and busses. (Not that I'd been in a car since I got to Japan, but I hadn't forgotten the streets of New York; and when it comes to traffic, Japan's no slouch either.) 

I also found it amusing to sit in the backwards-facing seat, though that wore off after a while. 

But mostly I enjoyed it because I was in an incredibly good mood anyway. I had this feeling of somehow escaping from the city, getting away from all the things that had upset me over the winter- the arguing, the divorce, the pneumonia, all that crap. I felt like someone had set me free, and looking at the faces of my friends beside me, I knew who had done it. I was so glad to be with them, and so grateful for what they'd done, that I almost didn't care if it took Mom a month to come fetch me. 

It wasn't the first time I've experienced an emotional high, but it certainly was one of the stronger ones I'd had. I made a note of it, then went back to looking out the windows, smiling at the beautiful sunny day. 

I was so keyed up that as soon as the conductor announced that the Azu station was next, I hopped up out of my seat, grabbed the nearest suitcase, and made a beeline for the closest door. Sage and Ryo, both looking amused, obligingly followed with my other two suitcases and we held on to a convenient pole until the train finally stopped. 

Would you believe it took almost forty-five seconds for those automatic doors to slide open? 

The town I saw when I finally got off the train didn't look much like the town I remembered from my one previous visit, and I stood still on the platform for a minute or two, taking it all in. Either I had forgotten it was so little, or I had been expecting it to look bigger now that all the ice and snow was gone. Either way I was in error. If anything it looked smaller. That, I realized after a moment, was because of the trees. I hadn't been so aware of them the last time, but now they were in leaf and the result was a huge sea of green that dominated the entire area. Everywhere I looked around the perimeter it was trees and more trees, their branches shifting and waving in the chilly spring breeze. It was like someone had chopped a clearing out of the middle of the woods, paved it, built a couple shops, threw in some houses, and then added some tracks for the railroad. 

"You must get major leaf storms up here in the autumn," I said to Ryo as we pulled my suitcases across the platform and down to the street.

"Oh yes," he agreed ruefully. "The place used to be bigger, back when people used wood for fuel- Azu did a pretty good business then. But now that it's all gas and electric heat, it's mainly the tourists and retirees that keep it going. Tourists want to know what it's like when they get away from the city, and retirees like peace and quiet- and maybe can't afford city prices."

I nodded; I knew a little something about city prices! "And it's handy, less than an hour from Toyama."

"Exactly." Ryo smiled and led the way to the dirt road that led to his house.

I'd forgotten about that road, but as soon as I saw it, I remembered. It was still a mile long, but at least all the ice was gone and we had room to walk abreast. I did sigh a little at the realization that I'd be walking it twice a day, but there was only a week of school left, and we wouldn't be pulling suitcases every morning and evening. Besides, it was pretty and the air was much sweeter than the city air. I could probably use the exercise anyway.

I was wondering just how early in the morning we'd have to get up to make the train on time when the forest abruptly ended at the edge of the meadow and the dirt road became a narrow path leading to the house. 

Like the town, the house wasn't as I remembered it, sitting in the middle of that wide green clearing and surrounded by tall trees. I hadn't gotten a very good look at it, what with arriving at night and leaving in knee-deep snow the next day, but I definitely did not remember it being a log cabin. Which is not a derogatory classification! Just the opposite, actually; I'd read about log cabins often enough, but never actually lived in one and was intrigued at the opportunity. It looked cute and cozy in a nice, rustic way, and if it didn't have all the amenities I took for granted in the city, at least it had indoor plumbing and a kitchen. 

We hit the first bump right as we walked in the door. Ryo went in first and I followed him- and stopped in mid-step when I saw what I was walking towards: White Blaze, standing in the middle of the room with his fur spiked, his ears back, and his fangs wide in a snarl. 

I suppose we were making a lot of unusual noise getting my suitcases up the steps, but I still say he was looking straight at me when he snarled. 

Confronted with an angry tiger, I did what I think anyone would have done: retreated. Fast. And of course I didn't turn my back on him, that would have been foolish. I backed up, stumbled over my suitcase, and then in trying to get my balance I somehow banged into Sage, who was still in the doorway. Before I knew quite what was going on, I was lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, blinking up at the blue sky. My head was ringing, my back felt like I'd been hit with a baseball bat, my ankle was twisted under me, and one of the suitcases was resting across my abdomen. 

I was actually lucky; I was a fraction of an inch from getting the other suitcase right in the- yeah, there- and that would NOT have made me happy. 

"Oh, Rowen- are you okay?" 

I looked over at Ryo as he hurried down the steps, musing that that might not be the brightest question I'd heard in my life. But I didn't say so- I didn't quite have the breath to. I shoved the suitcase off me and sat up carefully as Ryo crouched beside me. "I somehow don't think he's happy to see me," I observed instead, panting a little.

"It was the noise," Ryo explained as I untwisted my foot with a wince. "He hasn't heard suitcase wheels very often and it spooked him. Your foot? You hurt it?"

"Twisted." I wiggled it cautiously. "I think it's okay, though."

"We'll get some ice," he said. "And- you didn't hit your head, did you?" His hand hovered near my temple for a moment.

"Nah, my head's fine. Sage-?"

"Here." 

I looked up; he was standing on the little porch, one hand against the railing, the other on White Blaze's head. Like Ryo, he looked more concerned about my tumble than amused- in complete contrast to the tiger. Blaze's ears were up, his tail twitching, and his eyes were fixed on me. He was clearly enjoying my downfall immensely. "Well," I began, and then paused, realizing it might not be wise to toss any accusations his way. "Well, it could have been a lot worse. Now that we've thoroughly startled each other: hi, Byakuen."

His ears twitched and he sat down, tilting his head a little. I got up, only then noticing that my second suitcase- the one Sage had been pulling- had fallen wheels-down across the bottom step instead of smacking into that particular portion of anatomy I didn't mention before. There's nothing like realizing just how bad something could have been to help you conclude that what did happen is nothing to gripe about, and I felt glad that I hadn't made more of a fuss about it. Not that I hadn't been tempted for a minute. Falling down three stairs isn't really such a big deal, but being scared into falling down the stairs isn't too good for the dignity. On the other hand, neither is making a tempest in a teapot. 

Getting a grip on my suitcase, I made my second, and much more successful attempt at entering Ryo's house. 

My house, only I didn't know it then.