It was fall, and both of them were quickly gaining an understanding of the others' language. Shotaro could now name everything he saw in the streets in English, and Alexandra was flying through Japanese, having the advantage that native-spoken Japanese being flung all around here, while Shotaro only knew of one person (her) that spoke English as a first language. But that didn't bother either of them, as they made it into a sort of contest to see who could learn the fastest, understand the best. Often, they would spend hours walking around, talking in a convoluted mixture of Japanese and English, weighing their losses and victories.
And that was here he was now: at her apartment complex, ready to play again with his new friend. But first there was the problem of the door. He frowned at the doorbell, so high up and so out of his five-year-old reach. He knocked instead.
Someday, he said to himself, his thoughts already morphing into that bilingual mixture, Someday I'll be big enough to reach the doorbell.
He waited for the sounds that meant that Lexi would open the door, waited for the quick conversation in English where she asked her babysitter if she could go play for a while, waited for the sound of her feet hitting the linoleum, waited for the sound her pushing the stool against the door so she could open it, and then her smile as she hopped down from the stool, shoved it against the wall, and shutting the door behind her as they began their playdate. He had never been inside her house; she had never been inside his. They used the city of Kyoto as their playground.
And so he jumped when, soundlessly, the door opened, and the little girl he was waiting for was replaced by a full-grown woman.
"You are Fuwa Shotaro, right?" she said in perfect, accent-less Japanese, "Alexandra's running an errand for me now, but she'll be back soon. I'm her mother, Elizabeth Palone." She looked him over. "Come in."
"Okay," he said, suspicion the last thing on his mind. (What was there to fear?) He walked through nonchalantly, head turning as he evaluated Lexi's living space.
Elizabeth shut the door behind him and turned to see him sitting down on the couch in the living room, uninvited. Elizabeth considered him, getting a feel for how to handle him. He may be a child, she thought, but that doesn't mean he can't get the better of me if I'm not prepared. She exhaled and summoned a vaguely pleasant look on her face.
"Your parents run a ryokan, right?"she asked, taking a seat in a chair across from the couch.
"Yeah," he said, completely trusting of this strange woman that he had only heard mentioned once or twice.
"Have you introduced Alexandra to them yet?" she asked, wondering if she should dumb down her speech for the kid. She was barely used to her own daughter, let alone any friend she might pick up. In the end, she decided to talk to him as she would an idiotic adult, since that was how she addressed Alexandra.
"No," he said, "Mommy and Daddy are always busy, and I want Lexi's Japanese to be really good when they see her."
"Lexi?" She was surprised – the idea of a nickname for her daughter had never occurred to her. Her daughter's name was Alexandra, and that was all there was to be said, in Elizabeth's mind. She brought her mind back to the topic at hand. "Have you introduced her to anyone else? Any other friends, any other adults?"
"No," he said, confused by her question. It was always just him and Lexi walking around Kyoto, playing in the parks, the forest behind his house – he had never thought to bring someone else into their friendship. And why would Lexi's mommy be worried about that? "Why, Palone-san?"
She blinked once. Palone-san. It was logical for the kid to call her this, she supposed, as she had introduced herself with the surname Palone, and he had most likely been taught to address adults as -san. But this was also the first time that her Western name had been followed by a Japanese honorific. Most of the adults she came in contact with would either say Mrs. Palone or her Japanese name. Interesting.
"Can you do me a favor, then?" she asked, waiting for his nod, "Could you give her a Japanese name? Just something that you can call her by to everyone you want to introduce her to?"
He frowned, more confused now than he was before. "Why does Lexi need two names, Palone-san?"
Damn, she thought, I hadn't thought of a reason to give the kid. "Because...Alexandra, or Lexi, is a difficult name to pronounce in Japanese. L's and X's aren't a natural part of the language. You're used to it so you probably haven't noticed, and children seem to be better at picking up that sort of thing. But your parents, and everyone else, won't be able to say her name as easily. I think she'd be less embarrassed if she had a name that was easy for them to pronounce." Was that a sufficient explanation?
"Oh," he said, the confusion sliding off his face. She breathed a small sigh of relief, one that wouldn't have been detected even in the Palone family meetings, much less by a brat, "Okay, Palone-san." He acquiesced easily enough – after all, it wasn't that difficult to give someone a name.
"Thank you...Fuwa-kun," she said, smiling at the Japanse honorific. She stood up, ready to end the conversation now that she had what she needed. And now there won't be any well-meaning busybody gossiping how some 'Alexandra Palone' is running the streets of Kyoto. God only knows how Catherine would react if we brought another tabloid frenzy on the Palones. "I apologize, but I don't own a television," stupid, annoying, fruitless things, "But Alexandra should be coming home from the mailbox across the street from Kitasaga Gakuen, if you'd like to meet up with her."
"Thanks, Palone-san," he said, and stood up to go. He paused, tilted his head as a question came to him. "Palone-san?"
"Yes?" she asked, turning to him once again. What kind of question is there that a kid would ask that I won't want to answer? Or am not prepared to answer?
"Why didn't you teach Lexi Japanese?"
I stand corrected.
"Because..." she began, and then stopped. This brat already knows Alexandra's full name, she thought, and, even if he was too innocent to realize it, he could ruin everything with just a few words. There is absolutely no reason to give him another weapon to use against me. And he probably wouldn't understand the fine details anyway. "Because...to me, she's American. And the most popular language in America is English. When I command her attention, I speak English to her. Just like when you command her attention, you speak Japanese."
He frowned, confused by her use of the word "command." You can only command something that belongs to you, so...
"So...when she's mine she speaks Japanese, and when she's yours she speaks English?" he asked, his childish mind not understanding the more twisted connotations to the query.
I suppose that is the farthest his comprehension goes. What is he, six years old? A bit young for all of this. "Yes, you could put it like that." Just go. Get out of my hair. Find Alexandra and play with her.
He nodded once, satisfied with that explanation. "Bye, Palone-san," he said.
She smiled, nodded in acknowledgment, and watched him leave.
So long as he lives up to the promise to give her a new name, I can't complain.
He walked along the streets, knowing that he had seen Kitasaga High School somewhere before, but not quite sure how to get there from Lexi's apartment. On a whim, he turned at a corner, and, recognizing the street, ran down it.
When she speaks English...
"Sho-chan!"
...she's her mommy's.
"Sho-chan! Miss Marina, there's Sho-chan!"
When she speaks English, she's her mommy's...
"Sho-chan, why are you here?"
But when she speaks Japanese...
"I was coming to get you. Can you play right now?"
When she speaks Japanese...
"Go ahead, Alexandra. I'll tell Mrs. Palone where you are."
When she speaks English, she's her mommy's...
"Thanks, Miss Marina!"
But when she speaks Japanese...
"Come on, Lexi. I have something to show you!"
...then, she's mine.
He took her hand and ran, and thought about what name would suit her.