Help Line

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Chapter 3

The 'clop', 'clop', 'clop' of my heels were accented by spikes of dull pain with every step, a cold wind spinning up leaves and gusting at my slacks. It was made only slightly better by the thick socks, but the grating of material on the blisters still made them pulse, even if they did warm me up.

The craving for kyay oh had been following me since I woke up that day and the cold had only promoted it. I sighed and shivered, glancing around at the sparse people bundled up in their thick coats, wishing that the season from where I am and once had remained the same.

My options were running low and so were my funds. I had tried all the numbers I remembered on the payphones, even the old, dusty ones of childhood friends in a desperate bid, but every dial was a dead end.

I walked around the corner and sighed, my last option in sight; Namimori police station.

It wasn't a great idea, despite how it sounded like common sense. I was going to a police station and claiming to have magically teleported into Japan with only my bust up learner's license and student ID to back my claim of identity. Now it doesn't sound so much like 'common sense', huh? As a matter of fact, I doubt they'll think I have any 'sense' at all. But it was honestly my last resort.

I bit my lip in anxiety but straightened my shoulders, set my face in determination and stepped into the station, the doors sliding open for me. Last effort or not, I was going to make it a best effort.

The click of my heels made the officer at the desk look up. An array of emotions flitted over the man's face in the instant he laid eyes on me; confusion, panic, realisation and then a cautious smile.

"Hello ma'am, can I help you?" he asked, a soft shudder in his voice.

I thinned my lips for a moment and deliberated my words carefully, eyes narrowing a bit as I thought about how to phrase the topic.

"I seem to have come across an...issue," I said slowly, barely catching the man press the number one on a caller. "I've found myself lost here with minimal identification."

Oh, gosh, I was being wordy. I get wordy when I'm nervous.

It was like a Pomeranian bristling its fur to look bigger, but I was just using big words to make myself look smart and like I had things under control. All lies, obviously. When have I ever had anything under control? It'd be news to me, I assure you.

"Of course," the officer smiled, looking a bit pale in the face. "I'll have someone qualified out to help you in a moment."

I blinked and nodded my head before turning to sit at one of the chairs which lined the wall. I knew my posture was stiff with tension, hands folded sharply in my lap as I stared at the far wall with careful apathy.

Oh God, I was nervous. Police stations made me nervous.

Come on, Mary, think of something else. How's the sporty bean doing? Should I text him? Oh, no, he's only got landline. Who has landline nowadays? Maybe, when I'm settled back at home (hopefully, please, God) I can get him a cheap mobile to keep on him, just in case. Download a communication app like Viber to talk across countries.

"Ma'am?" an aged voice hummed, and I turned to the new officer who stood before me.

This one was greying at the temples and had crow's feet in the corners of his eyes, weathered but sharp as he sized me up with his approach.

"You seem to be having some problems with your papers, correct?"

"Yes," I nodded, getting to my feet. "I can't seem to be able to get my hands on them since coming here. I can't get in contact with anyone either. This must be odd, huh?"

He watched me for a moment longer before offering a soft smile, an almost knowing tilt to it. Some part of me thought he made the wrong conclusion.

"Oh, not at all ma'am. Namimori is a town which is quite...well versed in handling people with your situation." I swore he winked at me then. Not flirtatiously, but co-conspiratorially. "I can get you in contact with someone who can help you get set up without fuss or fanfare. May I know your name?"

I took a moment to respond, startled, but quickly collected myself.

"Mary Smith, sir. Thank you for your help."

"Absolutely no problem, Mary-san," he nodded before disappearing back into his office.

I blinked and looked to the officer who sat at the desk, noticing how he ducked his head and avoided my eyes.

"Here we go," the old officer announced, handing me a discreet little business card, completely white save for a black square on one side; a number and an address on the other. "The woman's name is Fujimoto-san. She'll take care of you. Just tell her what you told me."

"Okay. Again, thank you for your help."

He nodded me and I walked from the station, intent on finding a map to get my bearings.

Once I understood where I was going, I began on the trail back to the main shopping plaza. I shifted my bag's strap from where it sat on my shoulder, feeling it dig in uncomfortably.

A sigh fell from my lips as I walked, the sky was overcast with ominous clouds, making it seem later than I was sure it was. My hands were cold even when I tucked them under my armpits, silken shirt not doing much to keep the warm in.

I was only, perhaps, halfway to my destination when a rumble shook the sky and a heavy sheet of rain came down as if shaken free from the clouds themselves. A gasp slipped from me and I ducked under the roof of the closest shop front.

I stared out at the heavy rain and bit back another sign, wondering if that Yamamoto boy would ever have the chance to give me back my umbrella, or if I had signed away that piece equipment. Shaking my head, I lowered myself until I crouched down in a ball, leaning back on my heels until I found a careful spot which didn't hurt as much.

I squatted there for maybe ten minutes in silence, wondering when the rain would let up and let me head to where I needed to go before the door to the shop opened and a man dressed in a chef's uniform stepped out.

"It's really coming down out there, huh?" the man commented, crossing his arms.

"Yeah," I agreed, wrapping my arms around my knees and gazing out.

"I don't mean to pry, but you seem stressed," he said after a moment. "Were you on your way somewhere?"

"Just some address given to me," I sighed, rubbing my nape for a moment before returning my arm back to wrap. "These past few days just...haven't been the easiest on me, I guess."

The chef hummed as if sympathising, a breath of mist coming from his mouth, showing how the temperature dropped further as time passed.

"Do you think the rain will let up soon?" I asked, glancing to the man out of the corner of my eye.

"Not according to the weather report," he answered, "It'll be like this until the end of next week at least."

"Damn it," I deflated, lowering my head onto my knees. "It'll be good for the plants at least, right?"

"Are going to ask your parents coming to pick you up, then?" the chef inquired, and a rumble of thunder boomed in the far distance.

I paused and curled tighter for a moment, trying to ignore how my internal, emotional box stirred at the mention.

"No…No, I can't," I uttered slowly, being very watchful of my tone. There was a pause before a laugh lurched out, smothering what would have been a gross sob. "Some things happened recently and I...I just found myself here. I have no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going half the time. These past days have just been utter...Utter chaos."

I swayed on my heels for a moment and watched a bird soar through the rain, desperate to escape the downfall.

"I spent the night in some shoddy hotel, and have been wearing these clothes for three days straight. I've only got the money in my wallet, I can't get in contact with any family or friends." Another laugh came and I put my cheek in my hand. "God, I don't even have my papers, haha...What a mess I am."

Another strike of thunder growled in the sky, and I listened to it with fading hope. The smile I had donned in my helpless laughter faded from my lips and I sighed - before pausing as a sniffle reached my ears and I turned to see the chef tearing up beside me.

I spluttered wordlessly as he rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, and a part of me thought the action similar to that boy in the park. Then he cleared his throat and stared off into the middle distance, a look of nostalgic determination clear in his expression.

"I too came here with only the clothes on my back and a dream of a fresh start," he began, and I blinked as he clenched his fist. "Running from my past, leaving everything behind. It can be hard to plant roots when you're all on your own."

"Uh, no wait that's not-"

"Do you want to work for me?" he offered, turning to look down at my squatting form with a bright smile. "Until you get back on your feet, I'll pay you."

I paused and pursed my lips, squinting slightly before I carefully uttered, "...With money?"

"That's usually how we pay people."

"Oh, thank God," I wheezed and the old chef laughed good-naturedly, patting my shoulder.

"Why not come into the shop and out of the rain? We'll get you a uniform and something warm to eat."

I looked after the chef as he pushed open the door and walked in, getting to my feet a moment after. I grabbed my messenger bag and put it back on my shoulder before entering the shop, instantly smelling soy sauce and some kind of broth.

"Oh! Before we start, it might be a good idea to tell me your name, huh?" the chef laughed, and I resisted the urge to smack myself in the head for forgetting something so simple.

"Sorry!" I winced and his smile stretched further. "My head's a bit all over the place, lately. I'm Mary Smith."

"European?"

"Eurasian," I corrected, scratching the corner of my jaw awkwardly. "So...may I know the name of my employer?"

"Yamamoto Tsuyoshi," the chef nodded, before gesturing around, "and this here is my sushi bar. And before you panic, young lady, I know you probably don't have experience with sushi. All I'll need you to do is wait tables, cashier and some kitchen hand tasks."

I closed my mouth, relief touching my mind as the tension was addressed. The action seemed to make the man amused, and he moved us along to sit down at the bar of his store, rather than one of the booths.

"So, Mary-san, what kinds of skills do you have?" Yamamoto asked, bringing out a bowl from what must have been the kitchen. "Tell me everything you can do, the more I know the better. Even if it seems irrelevant."

I winced as the man placed down the bowl in front of me, some kind of noodle soup. It made me feel guilty for not paying for it.

"I took food technology for four years in high school, so I know the basics of preparing meals and how to use appliances," I began, taking a spoon and sipping at the soup, letting it warm me from the inside. "I can talk to people pretty easy, so I can do customer service."

Yamamoto nodded as I continued to tell him what little I could do, barely a year of actual work experience and the bare beginnings of a degree under my belt. Despite this, he seemed like he was honestly trying to work with what little I had to give, and smiled whenever something else came to mind and I'd blurt it out hopefully.

"Yeah, that's about it," I sighed finally, soup bowl aside and empty, a can of cola in my hands. "Sorry I can't offer more."

"You have enough," he assured. "Maybe not enough for one of those big, fancy corporation jobs. But enough for a little waiting job down here."

"That's...good to know," I breathed a sigh a relief, "Thank you, Yamamoto-san."

"No problem," my new boss smiled. "It's good to finally be able to help someone."

I blinked and was about to ask what he meant when the sounds of feet came from overhead before they descended down some stairs. The door which was concealed by some curtains was pushed open and a young boy came stumbling out, strikingly familiar.

"Tou-san! I finished my homework so can I-"

I blinked down at Yamamoto Takeshi as he froze mid-step.

This was his home? Oh God, this was his father. The one who yelled and forgot and made him hide under the blankets.

His face drained of colour.

It took me a moment, but then my eyes widened when I realised what was going through this boy's mind; he was thinking I had tattled on him.

"Oh, Takeshi-kun!" Yamamoto - the elder one - began, smiling widely. "This is Mary Smith, she'll be helping us around the store."

The young boy stared at me wordlessly, still tense and still as he tried to assess his father's mood.

I bit my lip and waved at him, trying to express that I didn't know.

Like a flip was switched the young Yamamoto grinned and bounced on his feet, something in my stomach unsettling at the change.

"Can I show Mary-san my room!? Please?! I wanna show her my project!" he insisted and his father raised an eyebrow. "Please, tou-san!?"

He was being careful, but I could hear the faintest of hysterical edges in his voice. His father must have missed it, however, and shrugged before waving his hand absently.

"Go ahead, I guess. Only if Mary-san wants to though, don't force her."

"I'd love to," I said quickly, getting to my feet as the youth shuffled restlessly as if to try and hurry me. "Lead the way, Yamamoto-san...Junior?"

Wait, were the last names different? Were they the last names?

"Just call me Boss, to avoid confusion from here on out," Yamamoto - Boss - instructed, and I nodded before I was grabbed and hauled from the room.

Yamamoto dragged me up the stairs I had heard him come down before. He dug his nails in when he deemed me too slow, a hectic note in his breath that riddled me with guilt for inadvertently causing.

I was pushed into his room with surprising strength before Yamamoto slammed his door behind him and spun on my, face pale and eyes wide. I immediately crouched so he wouldn't need to tilt his head, and began to urge him to breath steady, keeping my voice low so it wouldn't travel to the Boss downstairs.

"Did you tell him? You said you wouldn't, you lied and-" he gasped.

"I didn't tell him anything, I promise," I interrupted, wanting to get that message across early. "I didn't even know he was your father. I didn't know this was your house."

Yamamoto didn't look completely convinced and huddled in on himself a bit, obviously trying to breathe properly despite how fear compressed his throat.

"Yamamoto-san," I began, tone firm. "I did not and will not tell anyone what you tell me, so long as you do not give me clear permission to do so."

Yamamoto held my gaze for what could have been two solid minutes, trying to pry me apart for any falsities or deception. Eventually, he let out a long sigh and unravelled, still wary, as if I'd jump up and scream 'sike! I told on you!'

"Why are you here, then?" he asked, taking a step forward until he stood an arm's length from me.

"Well, originally I was just ducking out of the rain, but then your dad and I got talking and...I think he just gave me a job?" I answered slowly, not quite sure myself. "Oh God, your dad just gave me a job."

"Haha, he does that sometimes," Yamamoto admitted, taking the final step that made him close to me like he was on the bench again. "I think most of the people working here are wandering. We're always getting new staff."

I paused at that before smiling as I put my cheek in my palm, elbow on my knee.

"Your father is a nice man," I admitted.

"I told you so," he huffed, puffing his chest. Then he hesitated for a moment before he curved his posture inward and said, "I'm sorry that I dragged you, Mary-san. I scratched you a bit, didn't I?"

"Huh? Oh," my eyes dropped to the arm he had grabbed downstairs and saw the angry red crescents where the boy's nails had dug in. "Yeah, but only a little. It'll be gone before the end of the day," I assured, tugging my sleeve until the cuff covered the inflictions.

"I'm still sorry, though," he murmured, "I panicked."

"I know, it's okay," I hummed, before smiling and looking about his room. "You said you had a project to show me, right? Lemme see!"

The little boy hesitated for a moment before bouncing off and guided me over to a beat up, paper mache solar system model which he had been going at with textas in order to colour in. He displayed and toured me around each lopsided sphere, naming them and their qualities to which I responded with the necessary amount of enthusiasm and interest.

"Ah...I better give you back to tou-san, huh?" the youth uttered, and I blinked at the sudden derail.

"Oh yeah, he's probably going to need me soon," I agreed, looking to my watch. Then I paused and crouched down in front of the boy where he sat on his desk chair, and I smiled up at him. "Thank you for showing me your project. I'm sure you'll get good marks with this; you've put in so much effort."

"You're welcome," he grinned, kicking his feet lightly and flexing his toes within his socks. "Thanks for...not telling tou-san."

"Oh, that's not something you need to thank me for, lil bean," I laughed, putting my cheek on my fist. "Are you going back down with me?"

"Yeah," Yamamoto nodded and shimmied off the chair to join me as we walked back down to the restaurant where his father looked up at our arrival.

"How's his model going?"

"He's putting in a lot of effort," I smiled, looking down at the boy who preened at the praise. "I'm sure it'll pay off."

"That's my boy," he grinned and proceeded to vigorously ruffle the child's hair, making Yamamoto whine in indignation and playfully fight against the grip.

I blinked and felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips as the youth complained light-heartedly, happy to see him so bouncy and at ease with his father despite everything.

"So, Mary," Boss began, looking up and making me stand to attention. "When are you able to start working?"

"Oh, um," I paused and pulled out the address card. I didn't see how the old Yamamoto snatched a recognising glance at the discrete card. "I think I should get my papers in order first. I'll come back soon though! Are you okay with me coming here tomorrow?"

"Of course, I totally understand," the man assured with a soft smile, making me relax a little. "Are you going now? Do you have an umbrella?"

"I...Well..."

"I have a spare one!" Yamamoto jumped up and announced, and we exchanged an unseen look before he bolted off and came scampering back with my umbrella. "Here you go, Mary-san!"

"...Thank you, Yamamoto-san," I said, taking the item that had been offered to me.

"You're welcome!"

"Where'd that umbrella come from, Takeshi-kun?" Boss asked, coming up behind his son. "Haven't seen it around the house before."

"I, uh," the boy blinked, before pulling his smile further and said, "It was in the lost property box for a while, so I didn't think anyone's coming back for it."

"It's fine if I borrow it, right?" I asked slowly - though it was mine. "I can bring it back afterwards, I just need to dodge the rain."

"How long has it been in the property box?" he asked.

"A couple months," Yamamoto shrugged, "I've been using it for a while."

"Okay, well," Boss hummed before reaching over to the counter and plucked up a card to give to me. "This is TakeSushi's number, give us a call ahead of time before you come in and we'll have a uniform ready for you."

"...Okay," I wheezed, taking the card with two hands. The little Yamamoto giggled at my reaction. "See you soon then."

"See you soon, Mary-san."

I kind of stumbled towards the door after that, perhaps a bit light headed from the whole situation - maybe I was catching a cold? Nonetheless, I managed to reach the front and opened my little pop-up umbrella against the downpour outside.

"Bye-bye, Mary-san," Yamamoto whispered, idling beside me.

"Bye-bye, sporty bean," I murmured with a smile, "Remember, you can still call me if you need someone to talk to."

"Yeah," he nodded, bouncing a bit.

I looked to the overcast sky and took a deep breath, before stepping out and began on my way, the little, inconspicuous business card leading me on.