Chapter Six
I really wasn’t very good at indirect approaches most of the time. Not when it came to social situations. I used to try to be polite, to follow rules of etiquette and use social niceties. And what I found was that while I can do it, I do still know those rules, using them in any but the most formal of contexts just never seemed to work for me. I will fumble over my words, say the wrong thing, struggle to convey my meaning. When people do the call-and-response pattern that characterizes a lot of small talk, I respond in ways that do not line up with the other person’s comment at all. This was overwhelmingly the lesson I had learned from trying.
So while I still remembered how those rules work, I didn’t really try to use them very much most of the time. I tried to avoid the social contexts where it really mattered if I was a little abrupt or overly direct, too, so it worked out fairly well. It’s not like I had to attend dinners with politicians or corporate executives anymore, thankfully.
So while I could, and perhaps should, have talked to the café staff, or otherwise provided a tentative inquiry first, I did not. I hopped the fence and walked directly over to her table. “Hi,” I said, once I was close enough that it was clear I was talking to her. “Mind if I join you?”
She didn’t look surprised, but she did look distinctly wary as she nodded. I grinned and grabbed the other chair at the table. It was in the corner, tucked against a wall and near enough to the fence to make a run for it easily. I appreciated the implicit vigilance in the choice.
To anyone watching, it probably looked completely innocent. Two Asian girls of about the same age meeting at a café, and if the observer were able to distinguish it, they’d even say we were both Japanese. Harmless, entirely straightforward to explain. This was actually important. She frequented this café often, and probably would not appreciate it if I made her look suspicious here. That would be actually rude, rather than just brash, and the difference was significant.
“Cool. Sorry if I’m interrupting. I’m Kyoko, by the way.”
“Saori,” she said. She sounded wary, too, but not hostile. I was willing to take it. “You walk up to people like this often?”
I shrugged. “Eh, not really. I’m not all that social most of the time. But I was walking by and I was curious. Fox Chapel is a little on the nose for a kitsune, isn’t it?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” she said sourly, in a tone that suggested she’d had the same thought numerous times. “So…what, you came to talk to me because kitsune are Japanese?”
I blinked. The notion of this as being linked to ethnicity genuinely had not occurred to me. “What? No. What? The hell would I care about that? I haven’t been in Japan in over fifteen years, and I’m in no hurry to go back. I only even know what kitsune smell like because I met a guy in New York at a convention.”
Immediately, a great deal of the tension ran out of Saori. “Good,” she said. “Tend to agree on that. What did get your attention, then?”
I shrugged again. “You seem interesting. You’re cute, and I haven’t gotten laid in a really long time. Also, you have good taste in music.” I gestured to the shirt she was wearing. The skeletons on it, black-on-white, were easy to make out. The logo above them…if you squinted just right, you might notice there were letters in it. If you were familiar with metal band logos and knew the name you were looking for, you might even be able to read it. “Is the food here good?”
She blinked. “Uh. Sandwiches are okay, yeah. That was very direct.” She didn’t sound displeased, exactly, just nonplussed. “Also, wait, you know Fleshgod Apocalypse?”
“Yeah, they’re on the harsher side for me, but when I’m in the right mood they’re pretty good. And I know, but it’s kinda…I’ve found that it’s better to be up front with things, I guess? I mean, obviously it’s more nuanced than that. You’re a person who seems interesting to chat with, not a hookup. But it’d be silly to pretend that didn’t cross my mind.” I looked around, trying to get the attention of someone on the wait staff. I wasn’t hungry, but I hadn’t eaten since dinner, and it would probably be a good idea to change that.
“I think I appreciate that, really,” Saori said. “Most of the people I meet are…really into spending time being boring and polite. Like, the hell do I care how your dog feels about the weather, get to the point already.”
I groaned. “Ugh, right? Tokyo was even worse. One of the reasons I don’t plan to go back.” I managed to flag down a waitress and confirm that they did, in fact, serve both Italian subs and soda.
“Still better than the rest of Japan,” Saori muttered darkly. “And don’t even get me started on kitsune high society.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “Unless you’re in the mood to bitch about it sometime, I guess. Anyway, yeah, I was curious. Oh,” I said in a much less bright tone as something occurred to me, “and I might have some bad news. Not totally sure it’s relevant to you but, uh, yeah.”
She tensed again. “What is it?”
“You happen to know a local guy named Chris? Little taller than me, maybe into something related to metalworking?” My tone sounded rather clearly like I was hoping the answer was no, and I was guessing she knew what the news was just from that.
“Yeah, we’re friends. Why?”
I winced. “Um. Shit. Don’t really know how to do this. He died last night.”
Saori’s expression went the kind of blank that strongly suggested there was something much less calm under it. “How’d he die?”
“Got killed by some kind of mage,” I said. “It’s, uh. Why I was in the area. Friend of mine was trying to figure out why, and thought you were a recent business contact, so I guess they thought you might be involved? Which you’re obviously not,” I added hastily, “already told them to piss off because it’s pretty fucking clear it wasn’t you, but. Yeah.”
Saori took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Alright. Well. Thanks for telling me.” She sipped her soda. “They’re still looking, then?”
“Yeah. They, uh. Are very much not happy with whoever did it.”
She nodded. “Alright. I’d like to know when they find said whoever. Setting them on fire sounds therapeutic.” The blank expression had faded out into a grin. It had a bloodthirsty edge to it, and I didn’t think she was kidding, but I also didn’t blame her. I’m not a great person, but there are limits.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I fidgeted a bit. “To be clear, the rest was totally sincere. That’s why I was in the area, but I came to talk to you because I was curious and you seem interesting. Sorry if this is awkward, I don’t…really know how to do this kinda thing.”
“It’s definitely awkward,” Saori said. “But so far you’re still in cute-awkward rather than actually-a-serial-killer-awkward, so it’s probably fine.”
“My apologies,” I said, more formally than either of us had been in the entire conversation so far. I even bowed a little. “I will endeavor to provide you with more variety of awkwardness, so as to avoid boring you.”
That got a laugh, which made me happy. I’d thought Saori would like it, but I wasn’t totally sure my read on her was accurate, and she deserved a laugh right now. It also just sounded nice, brighter and more burning-golden than most people’s laughter. I smiled a little, relieved.
My food got there before long. It was decent, not great, but decent. Once it was there the hunger hit and I ate with reasonable enthusiasm. She seemed to have already finished her meal, but she went through another three glasses of soda while I ate, and I was not a slow eater. The wait staff seemed pretty accustomed to this.
“I gotta say,” she said as I was finishing my food, “I’m kinda surprised by this. Most of the people I talk to struggle to keep up with me.”
I shrugged, ate the last bit of sandwich. “My connections are a little loose, I think. Not always this loose, been a long day, but they’re not exactly linear and goal-oriented in general. It’s easy to change gears when the gears in question are a little stripped, you know?”
Saori grinned. “Yeah, that tracks. Okay, so we’ve done the cold open meet cute, the very direct flirtation, the abrupt transition to delivering bad news, and the awkward transition back to flirting. What’s next?”
I opened my mouth, thinking I’d suggest exchanging phone numbers. Then I remembered that I did not currently have a phone. There was a backup at home, this really was something I had to be prepared for and I generally kept a spare lying around. But I didn’t remember the number offhand.
Then I remembered this also meant I did not have an easy way to arrange transportation.
“Um,” I said instead. “I think it’s the clumsy question about whether you can drive me home.”
Saori laughed her head off at that and said she could. I paid for lunch without asking.
Cherry
Kyoko and Saori both introduce themselves using only their personal names. This is very unusual in Japanese, and that they do this is important. You might think of it as a sort of informal handshake (in the computing sense, describing the process of establishing communication protocols) or shibboleth. It’s an understated way of communicating to each other that neither one is terribly attached to Japanese cultural norms.
Saori is pronounced with three syllables, Sa-oh-ri. The a is similar to the vowel in “gone” or “stalk”. Ri is the usual transliteration, but the sound is somewhat intermediate between English R and L; the vowel is similar to the vowel sound in “bee” or “deep”. In principle this does have a kanji representation as 早織, which is roughly “already woven”. She basically never uses that, though, and would find it weird if someone tried to write her name that way.
Kitsune is pronounced with three syllables, key-tsu-nay. This vowel pattern will hold true in Japanese. “A” is read as in “on”; “i” is pronounced with a long “e” sound as in “free” or “see”; “u” is similar to the vowel sound in “boot” or “soon”; “e” is pronounced with a long “a” sound compared to English, and an e at the end of the word is never silent; “o” is pronounced as in “oh” or “so”. This transliteration system is based on vowel sounds in Latin, not in English (if you’re curious, it’s called the Revised Hepburn romanization system, and the full rules can be readily found online). Japanese does not exactly have plural nouns, a convention I generally follow. Words that are directly drawn from Japanese (e.g., kitsune, raiju, ninja, katana) are the same form for singular and plural use. Kitsune directly translates as “fox”, but is typically used without translation to refer to foxes as depicted in Japanese folklore and literature.
Also, Fleshgod Apocalypse is an actual band, and their logo is practically indecipherable as text at a glance unless you’re familiar with metal album cover art. Not actually that bad by those standards, plenty are less legible, but their name is too good not to use.