Unexpected Souvenir

France Mochi

Paris is a city of lights and sounds. Of fun and laughter. Of fashion and glamour. Of love and desire. And that's exactly why you came to France. What's a better place to search for love than in the heart of romance itself? It's been a magical trip so far with gourmet food, elegant culture, and beautiful weather. It just couldn't get any better for you.

With one exception.

You still haven't found the man of your dreams. It's not like you've set ridiculously high standards or anything. You just want a nice guy that's fun loving, good with kids, and likes going on spontaneous adventures at the drop of a hat. He doesn't even have to be French! As long as he can speak English, you're fine.

A disappointed sigh escapes you as you think about your rather pathetic social life. You had been one of those people that was never too interested in boys until it was too late. Now you're scrambling to catch up on everything you've been missing. You also feel this twinge of loneliness in your heart that your friends could never soothe, especially when they're with their significant others.

Said twinge flares up when you see several couples walk past the small café you're sitting in. Why can't you be happy like them? You watch them enviously as they disappear from view, happy, bubbling, and laughing.

"Humph...." You rest your chin on your hand and huff. "Why can't I be happy too?"

"Why are you unhappy, ma chérie?"

The sultry voice pulls you out of your pity party, and you search around for its source. No one is standing remotely close to your small table. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. Who was talking to you just now?

"Par ici! Over here, ma chérie."

You finally locate the source of the voice, and it's definitely not what you expected. A white, round object is sitting in the chair across from you. It must have jumped up there while you were spacing out. You look at it carefully to make sure you're not seeing things. There's definitely no mistaking the bright blue eyes or the prickling looking stubble under the thing's smiling mouth.

"I couldn't help but overhear your troubles. Looks like you need a little amour et de romance (love and romance) in your life, am I right?" the object asks with a flirty wink.

"W-wha-? What are you?" you ask dumbfounded. Words cannot even express what is going on in your mind right now.

"I am what they call a mochi, some kind of dumpling. Je suis désolé (I'm sorry), but I don't know any more than that," it says apologetically.

"Are...are you a boy then?" you ask as you eye up what could be facial hair.

The thing gives off an airy laugh. "Ohhonhonhonhon! Oui, I suppose you can say I am a boy."

"So let me get this straight," you say while rubbing your temple with a slender hand. "You're some sort of talking dumpling that grows facial hair because you're a male. Do I have the right?"

"Oui."

"I've gone insane!" you say in a high voice. "I'm so desperate to find a boyfriend that I've gone insane!"

Other people in the café shoot you annoyed or worried looks, and you blush in embarrassment. It's bad enough that you think you're crazy. The last thing you need is for other people to think so too.

"I assure you, ma chérie, you are not fou (insane)," the mochi tells you. "I am very real."

"Okay, whatever you say, delusion my mind created," you say with a sigh. "Just tell me what to call you then since 'mental delusion' will probably earn me some weird looks."

"You can call me France Mochi!" He whips out a rose from seemingly nowhere. "It is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma chérie."

"At least my mind gives me a handsome and well mannered delusion," you say without enthusiasm.

"You think I'm élégant (handsome)?" France Mochi says with a suggestive raise of a curved brow. "I'm flattered! May I ask what I should call such a beautiful mademoiselle such as yourself?"

A small blush creeps up your face. You shouldn't be flattered by something you're imagining, right? "S-shouldn't you already know my name seeings how you're a figment of my imagination."

The mochi's rose disappears and he loses his charming demeanor. He glares at you with a rather annoyed look. "How many times do I have to say I'm not an illusion?"

"Then prove it!" you say rather loudly. People turn to look at you again, and you squirm uncomfortably under their gaze.

A smile spreads across France Mochi's face. "Il ya plus d'une façon, je peux prouver que vous n'êtes pas fou (there is more than one way I can prove you are not crazy)," he says very suggestively. His voice is like silk and hints at things that shouldn't be spoken out loud.

Your mouth drops open. That is probably the sexiest thing you've ever heard, and you don't even know what he said. To top it off, the mochi winks at you with one crystal blue eye.

"Oh my gosh......okay I admit it. There's no way my brain could have imagined that," you tell him.

"Well, it's about time, ma chérie!" the mochi exclaims. "Now, to move on to bigger and better things."

You can't help but hear the suggestiveness that saturates his voice like butter in French food. He can't seem to help himself from flirting.

"Like what?" you ask in confusion.

"Like why you are here," he answers. "You are searching for amour, oui?"

"H-how do you know?"

An amused expression flits across France Mochi's face. "I overheard you having a lovely conversation with yourself, remember?"

"Oh..." You blush in embarrassment. Somehow the mochi makes you feel like a nervous, giggly schoolgirl. "W-well, why are you here?"

"For not as extravagant as a reason as yourself," he replies. "I enjoy the view."

"The view?" You look out of the café to see what he could be talking about. Lo and behold, in the distance you can see the tall metal form of the Eiffel Tower. "How did I miss that?"

"Apitoiement peut rendre une personne aveugle (pity makes a person blind)," France Mochi murmurs. "Tis a shame for one so beautiful."

"What?"

"No, it's nothing," the mochi says with a smile. "Would you like to see the Tour Eiffel, ma chérie?"

You're about to decline his offer when you change your mind. It's not everyday you're in a beautiful city with a friend by your side to laugh with. A rather suggestive friend, but it's better than no friend. You smile widely at France Mochi.

"Yes, I think I'd like that."

"Magnifique! Allow me to show you my gorgeous city, mon amour (my love)!"