Nobody Marries a Fat Girl
Copyright© 2025 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 2: Falling
Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.
Brad spent Friday night researching restaurants in Osaka that would be special but not intimidating. He wanted somewhere nice enough to show Suki this was a real date, that he was serious, but not so fancy that she’d feel uncomfortable or out of place.
He finally settled on a small Italian place in the Umeda district—cozy, romantic, with good reviews and reasonable prices. He made a reservation for seven-thirty, giving them time to walk through the neighborhood’s lit-up streets first.
Emma had texted him approximately four hundred times since Thursday, demanding details. Brad had given her the basics: Suki’s name, her major, the cafeteria incident, their lunch conversation. He’d left out the more vulnerable parts—those felt like Suki’s story to tell, not his.
She sounds perfect for you, Emma had written. Gentle and kind. That’s what you always said you wanted.
She IS perfect, Brad had replied, then immediately felt like an idiot for moving so fast in his head. They’d barely spent two hours together. He needed to slow down.
But when Saturday evening arrived and Brad knocked on Suki’s dorm building door, all thoughts of taking it slow evaporated.
Suki opened the door wearing a simple navy blue dress that fell to just above her knees, her long dark hair loose around her shoulders. She’d done her makeup—just a touch, enough to make her eyes even more striking. She looked beautiful and nervous and terrified all at once.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi.” Brad realized he was staring. “You look ... wow. You look really beautiful, Suki.”
She blushed, glancing down at her dress. “Thank you. Is this okay? I wasn’t sure what to wear. I don’t ... I don’t go on dates very often.”
“You’re perfect,” Brad said, and meant it. He offered his arm. “Ready?”
Suki hesitated for just a moment before sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow. The gesture felt both formal and intimate, like something from an old movie.
They walked through campus and into the city beyond. The evening was cool but not cold, the streets alive with people and lights and the energy that Osaka always seemed to have after dark. Brad kept his pace slow, matching Suki’s shorter strides, hyperaware of her presence beside him.
“I’ve never been to Umeda at night,” Suki admitted as they crossed into the district. “It’s pretty.”
“Have you been in Osaka long?”
“All my life. I grew up here.” She glanced up at him. “But I don’t go out much. Mostly I just go between campus and home and sometimes the library.”
Brad filed that away—another piece of the picture of Suki’s isolation. “What about friends? Do you have people you hang out with?”
Suki was quiet for a moment. “Not really. I had a friend in high school, Yuki, but she moved to Tokyo for university. We text sometimes, but...” She shrugged. “It’s hard to make friends when people have already decided what they think of you.”
“Their loss,” Brad said firmly.
Suki gave him a sideways smile. “You’re very confident about that.”
“Because I’m right.”
The restaurant was tucked down a side street, its windows glowing warm and golden. Inside, it smelled like garlic and fresh bread and tomatoes. The hostess greeted them in Italian-accented Japanese and led them to a small table near the back.
Suki looked around with wide eyes. “This is really nice, Brad.”
“You deserve nice.”
She ducked her head, but Brad saw the pleased smile she tried to hide.
They ordered—Suki chose pasta with cream sauce, Brad got pizza—and settled into the comfortable rhythm of getting-to-know-you conversation. Brad asked about her family, and Suki told him about her parents who ran a small accounting firm in Osaka, about how they’d been supportive when she chose international finance, even though they’d hoped she might join the family business.
“They worry about me,” Suki said quietly, turning her water glass in slow circles. “About my weight, about marriage prospects. They don’t say it directly, but I know. My mother keeps suggesting diets, and my father gets this look on his face when I mention school like he’s worried I won’t find a husband.”
“Do you want to get married?” Brad asked. “Eventually, I mean?”
Suki’s laugh was bitter. “The title of my autobiography is going to be ‘Nobody Marries a Fat Girl.’ So I try not to think about it too much.”
Brad’s chest tightened. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Suki met his eyes. “I’m nineteen years old, and I’ve never been on a date before tonight. Never had a boyfriend. Never even been kissed. Japanese guys won’t look at me twice, and until you...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I thought maybe foreign guys would be different. That’s why I chose the international school. Pathetic, right?”
“It’s not pathetic. It’s strategic.” Brad leaned forward. “And for the record? You’re on a date right now. With someone who thinks you’re beautiful and smart and worth every second of his time.”
Suki’s eyes shimmered with tears, but she blinked them back. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Every word.”
Their food arrived, saving Suki from having to respond. Brad watched her take her first bite of pasta and saw the way her whole face lit up.
“Oh my god, this is amazing,” she said, then immediately looked embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m not usually so enthusiastic about food. I know I shouldn’t—”
“Stop,” Brad interrupted gently. “Suki, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying your food. Nothing wrong with eating. Nothing wrong with any of it. Okay?”
She nodded, but Brad could see the years of conditioning warring with his words. This was going to take time.
They ate and talked, and Brad told her about growing up in California, about his parents who’d made their money in tech and encouraged him to see the world. He told her about Emma, about watching his sister struggle with the same demons Suki faced.
“Does she know?” Suki asked. “That you’re ... that we’re on a date?”
“She knows I met someone special. I told her you remind me of her—the good parts. The kindness, the gentle heart. Not the self-doubt bullshit that society puts in your heads.”
“I’d like to meet her someday,” Suki said softly. “If ... I mean, if this continues. If you still want—”
“Suki.” Brad reached across the table and took her hand. “I want this to continue. I want to keep seeing you. I want to take you on more dates and learn everything about you and prove to you that you’re worth exactly what I see when I look at you.”
Her fingers tightened around his. “I don’t understand why. You could date anyone. Those girls on campus, the ones who whisper about me—they’d all say yes if you asked. Why would you choose me?”
“Because you’re real,” Brad said simply. “Because when you smile, you mean it. Because you held the door for an old man struggling with groceries. Because you have gentle eyes and a kind heart, and that matters more than anything else.” He paused. “And because yeah, I think you’re really pretty, and I like looking at you, and I’d like to kiss you someday if you’ll let me.”
Suki’s breath caught. “You want to kiss me?”
“Very much.”
“I’ve never—I told you I’ve never—”
“I know. And there’s no pressure. Whenever you’re ready, if you’re ever ready. I’m not going anywhere.”
They finished dinner in a warm haze of possibility. When the bill came, Brad paid despite Suki’s protests, and then they were back out in the cool evening air, walking slowly back toward campus.
“Thank you for tonight,” Suki said as they walked. “It was perfect.”
“First of many,” Brad promised.
At her dorm, Suki turned to face him, and Brad saw the war happening behind her eyes—want and fear and hope all tangled together.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” Brad asked. “There’s a park near campus. We could walk, maybe get coffee?”
“I’d like that.” Suki bit her lip. “Brad? Can I ... would it be okay if I hugged you?”
“You never have to ask permission for that.”
Suki stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. She was small against him, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. Brad’s arms came around her carefully, like she was something precious. She smelled like the restaurant and something floral—her shampoo, maybe.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest. “For seeing me.”
Brad rested his chin on top of her head. “Thank you for letting me.”
They stood like that for a long moment before Suki pulled back. Her eyes were bright, her smile soft and real.
“Goodnight, Brad.”
“Goodnight, Suki.”
He watched her go inside, just like Thursday. And just like Thursday, he felt like his world had shifted on its axis.
Sunday they walked through Osaka Castle Park. Monday they studied together in the library. Tuesday Brad brought her coffee before their accounting class, and Suki’s shy smile made every strange look from other students worth it.
Because there were looks. Whispers. The same girls who’d tormented Suki now turned their attention to Brad and Suki as a unit, and Brad could practically hear their thoughts: What is he doing with her?
Brad responded by holding Suki’s hand openly, by sitting next to her in every class they shared, by making it clear to anyone watching that he was exactly where he wanted to be.
On Wednesday, Suki’s phone rang during their library study session. She glanced at the screen and her face went pale.
“I need to take this,” she whispered, gathering her things with shaking hands. “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.”
She hurried toward the exit, and Brad heard her answer in Japanese: “Moshi moshi, Okaa-san...”
Her mother.
Suki didn’t come back for twenty minutes. When she did, her eyes were red and her hands were trembling.
“Hey,” Brad said softly, standing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just—” Suki’s voice broke. “Can we go somewhere private?”
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