Page 76 of The P*ssy Next Door
HAYES
Holy shit. I was completely out of my depth in these crazy-ass busy streets of Tokyo. The neon signs, the towering skyscrapers, the sea of people rushing past us—it was all so overwhelming, so different from anything I'd ever experienced.
I didn't realize how absolutely unworldly I was until we were in the thick of it. I felt like a country mouse in the city.
But Willa? She was a goddess taking me on an adventure.
All I could do was hold on tight and be absolutely awed by the way she confidently led us through the maze of streets, her eyes sparkling with excitement and her smile never wavering. She seemed to have a sixth sense for where to go and what to do.
“Babe, I think we might be lost,” I said, trying to keep the unease from my voice as we turned down yet another alley. I always thought I had a pretty good sense of direction, but without my mountains to know which way was west, I didn't know my front from my back. “Are you sure this is the right way to the cat café?”
Willa just grinned, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “We're definitely lost. Also known as exploring. And look, I think we've stumbled onto something.”
She pointed to a small, unassuming storefront, its windows adorned with cutesy illustrations of cats. The sign above the door read “Neko no Jikan” in both Japanese and English.
Willa held up her phone and used Google Lens to translate.
“Cat Time?” I read off her screen, raising an eyebrow.
Willa's grin widened. “Sounds perfect. Come on, let's check it out.”
Inside, the café was a cozy oasis, filled with plush couches, colorful cat trees, and of course, dozens of adorable felines. The air smelled of coffee and floral teas and something distinctly furry, but not unpleasant.
A petite Japanese woman wearing cat ears, furry paw-looking mittens, with her face painted with whiskers, greeted us with a warm smile and a flurry of words I couldn't understand. But Willa, in her typical fashion, just smiled right back and managed to convey our intentions through a mix of enthusiastic gesturing and speaking slowly. “Can we buy drinks and meet cats?”
The woman smiled and shocked the shit out of me by replying in perfect English. “Yes, of course. Please follow me.”
Minutes later, we were settled on a couch, sipping matcha lattes, which tasted like milky grass to me, and playing with a pair of rambunctious pure white kittens.
“This is amazing,” I said, shaking my head in wonder. “How did you know she spoke English?”
Willa shrugged, her eyes twinkling. “I didn't. But we're lucky that English has become the international language. It used to be French. Did you know that?”
Willa was so animated and excited. The only other time I'd seen her like this was when she was telling me her ideas to get more business to the café. She was so fucking happy right now.
“Nope. I took Spanish.” Not that I could speak a lick of it. Guacamole, jalapeño, and tortilla was about it. Mmm. Colorado did have good mountain Mex food.
“Yeah, me too. A lot of people around the world study English in school, and not like we take Spanish and learn to say things like 'Dónde está el baño,' 'Una más margarita, por favor,' and 'Mi burro es muy perezosa.' Especially in a big city like this, and with younger people, you can usually find someone who speaks at least a little bit of English, or even someone who knows it better than we do.”
“Your donkey is very...”
“Lazy.” She scooped up a kitten, nuzzling its fur and cooing softly.
“Right. I'm sure it probably was. Donkeys are known to be like that.” But not Willa. She told me I was hard-working, but I had to work hard. She was a natural at so many things, and I wasn't sure she even knew it.
She was... incredible. This woman, this amazing, adventurous, free-spirited woman, had chosen me. She'd brought me halfway across the world, pushed me way out of my comfort zone knowing I needed it, and in a few hours has shown me a side of life I'd never even dreamed of.
Another couple of cats came over to check us out, and one crawled right up on Willa's shoulders and wrapped itself around her like a travel pillow. She scratched its head like this was the most natural thing in the world. “But even if she didn't speak any English, it probably wouldn't be hard to figure out what we wanted to do in a literal cat café.”
Willa smiled, so happy to be lost in Tokyo.
My stomach, chest, and head, everything inside of me went off kilter. I had the sensation that I was on a rollercoaster that had just hit the highest peak and was about to go flying down, spinning around, making everyone scream. And I was in the front row.
It wasn’t the concussion either. It was this moment, and a realization that as much as Willa loved running the coffee shop, as much as she cared for her uncles and the community she'd built, it wasn't enough for her. She needed more, needed the thrill of the unknown, the challenge of navigating new places and experiences. She needed to be free.
Denver, with its familiar streets and predictable routines, could never fully satisfy her wanderlust. No, it wasn't just wanderlust. But lust for life, for all of the new and different the world had to offer.
Just like being at the top of a literal rollercoaster, for a split second, I was scared. I didn't want to be threatened by that realization, but I was.