He does not pay for his pastry, or whatever the hell it was he had blindly pointed at. He also doesn't get it, so he is sure that it's fine. Inaho is long gone by the time the clerk even notices he has left the store. It doesn't matter even slightly. What does matter is the small child walking down the Paris street in front of him.
The rational side of him knows that he is being too obvious. He is tailing a ten year old in broad daylight; it is almost the definition of suspicious. The clerk at the pastry store could have seen him, and called the police. There are many problems with simply following, but Inaho does it none the less. He listens to the logical, rational part of his brain with calm indifference, and continues to follow the boy anyway. Inaho can't allow the child to get away, no matter what, he can't allow it. There are certainly less obvious ways of finding him again, but Inaho knows better. He's searched Paris several times, the documents, the pictures, the people. Numerous times in his seven years of searching, and he never once found this child. Never once laid his eye on him. If this child had been in Paris before, he would have known, but the child was not. This child is new here, has not been in Paris for too long, and might not be for long. Inaho cannot run the chance of missing him, not now when he is within Inaho's grasp.
Thus, he follows; there is no question or debate. What he can't decide on, is to catch up, to engage, or to simply remain a shadow until he has more information to go on. What he does know, is that the child is completely alone. There is no parent waiting outside, or down the street, or in a car somewhere. There is obviously none of that. He is only ten, small, breakable, and alone on a Paris street. It's enough to make Inaho mad, enough to make him want to hide the child away because obviously someone does not treasure him as they should. Where are his parents? They should know better than to let him wander alone like this. They should go with him, and hold his hand, and be there. They are not, and it is aggravating. The world is a dangerous place, and his parents should care. Inaho internally fumes as the child slips into a small market. Inaho follows him only a few moments later.
He decides to engage, because the store is an ideal place to do so. He can talk about menial things and have a legitimate reason for being in the same space without seeming like some form of creep or stalker or molester. But the decision to engage does bring about an entirely different problem; French. The child speaks French, and his French is lacking. He is going to have to stumble his way through a conversation with this child, and hope he understands what is said. He's going to have to get better at French in a rather short time to have any sort of meaningful conversation with the child, but of course that is no problem. Inaho has already spent years on this project, now with it so close to completion, with the child in his sights, a simple language barrier isn't going to deter him for long.
As it happens, he actually has nothing to worry about.
As Inaho enters the shop the attendant says something to him in French, and Inaho is so startled by the action, that he looks over at the man with a great deal of intensity. He is irritated that his thoughts were interrupted, but the clerk gives no indication of caring, and simply repeats his statement. Perhaps in a normal state of being, he would respond rationally. He might think of what the attendant might be asking him, he might even consider exactly what was said and try to determine what it meant. Normally, Inaho might do both of these things, but today he is too concerned with the very important child wandering over to the coffee section of the market. Instead, Inaho offers an uncharacteristically snappish "What?" in English. Of course, this wins him no points, and the attendant gives him a dirty look, and starts rattling off in French at him. Inaho has no patience for it then and there. This person should simply walk away and leave him alone, because the child is looking at them now in obvious curiosity, with those stunning eyes of his, and all Inaho wants to do is walk over and look at them for years. And talk, he'd like to talk too.
He is saved from the agony of the shop keeper, when the child hesitantly speaks up, in fluid English. "He was just greeting you, and welcoming you to the store." The clerk stops at that, and chatters kindly over at the child, who answers back softly in French before the clerk snubs his nose at Inaho, and walks away. Inaho takes this perfect opportunity, and walks over to the child. "Though he thinks it would be good if you learned French before coming to Paris..." The child states, fidgeting now that he is the center of Inaho's attention. Inaho is positive that this particular attendant had a lot more to say on the matter, and in less kind words, but that isn't really his concern. All he can think is 'Look at me. Look at me. Please look at me with those beautiful eyes of yours.' but that is too obvious. He schools himself before it comes tumbling out of his mouth, and he sounds like an irrational person.
"Thank you" is what does come out of his mouth. It is too abrupt; he does not say enough, it is obvious that his mind is a million miles away. He has to remind himself that this child does not know him, will not notice these things.
The child shakes his head, still looking downward. Is that a learned response? Is someone teaching him to keep his head down, to be demure and skittish? It is all wrong, but Inaho keeps that part of his brain as quiet as it can be. This is neither the time nor the place. The child moves his head to the side in obvious, nervous discomfort, and holds the bag in front of him nervously. Does he know that Inaho followed him? Is he worried? Or does he lack proper socializing? Do older people frighten him? There are so many questions that Inaho has, that he wants answers to. He wants to know every little detail that he can, but of course there is no time for such things. "No, you don't need to thank me..." Dismissal of deserved gratitude, another tell tale sign of lack of assertion. This is in no way acceptable. Where is this child's parents?
"Do I frighten you?" The statement is probably too blunt, but the child is fidgeting horribly, and refusing to look up. Inaho saw him not five minutes ago conversing happily with the clerk at the bakery. This shows either a decent amount of familiarity, or that his social skills are above what he is currently projecting, or, Inaho has already spooked him. He needs to know which variable he is dealing with, so best to handle it.
The child fidgets more under his gaze and question, and his shoulders rise in obvious discomfort. "N-no, sir. I'm sorry, sir." Obviously his choice of being obtuse is the wrong one. The child does not respond positively. This is something to note, so Inaho does just that, files the information away and knows that his tactics must change. There seems to be quite a bit of nurture in this situation vs. the nature that Inaho has been expecting, but it is within reasonable parameters. If he is being honest, anything is within reasonable parameters, but that is a minor detail. Inaho can handle this, and he will. He is capable of being less confrontational.
Inaho shakes his head in dismissal, hoping that the boy will look up at him. He is pleased when the boy gives him a shy upward glance, before those blue-green eyes dart back down to the ground. It is too quick, too skittish, but it is a glimpse and it is enough for now. "There is no need to apologize. I did not mean to startle or unnerve you in anyway." Inaho looks down at the box of instant coffee in the child's arm, and the oversized billfold his hands clutch tightly, and decides something very quickly. "At the bakery," Inaho states, and pulls out the 5 euro bill he was going to use to pay for the pastry. He is now very glad he did not. "You dropped this."
The child blinks down at the bill for a few seconds in confusion, before looking up at Inaho. He shakes his little head, and his light blond hair floats around him like feathers drifting in a blue-green ocean breeze. "It isn't mine."
Inaho blinks. "Pardon?"
The small child shakes his head again, but this time, he is looking up at Inaho without as much reservation. "I counted my money, sir, and I paid with a 5 euro note." He shakes his head again after the statement, but his eyes never leave Inaho's. It makes it very difficult to concentrate. "It can't be mine."
Inaho should know better than this. He isn't a good liar, he had gotten better over the years of hiding, but omitting truths or only telling half truths is not the same as outright lying. He is very skilled at the others, and less so at the more obvious one. This is of course all compounded by the fact that he is unmistakably shaken. Ten years of solitude are suddenly over, and now he had to move in to the more delicate phase. He has to somehow make himself a permanent fixture in this child's life. From now on, he needs to do this; it is the only thing he wants. Perhaps when he is a permanent fixture, when he has found his place again, and his pieces all match and fit together, he can start on other things. Maybe then, he can move forward, like Yuki wants him to. But now, now he must make sure this place is there for him. It is necessary, and he is not doing a decent job of it yet.
"I apologize." Inaho states simply, and means it. It is for lying, more than anything, but of course the child will not know that. "I was mistaken." Which is also true. He should not have come up with something so underhanded to commemorate this reuniting of souls. It was an unworthy gesture. Instead, he motions his head towards the box of instant coffee in the child's hand. "Are you purchasing that?"
The child nods sheepishly, perhaps unsure why Inaho is still talking to him. It doesn't matter. Inaho cocks his head a little to the left, before speaking. "That isn't a very good quality coffee. Let me show you a better one." He doesn't reach over and take the child's hand, that would be wrong, but he does almost smile, when the child briskly walks to keep up pace with him. Inaho cannot deny that he is happy.