One Kiss In Tokyo.... Scarlet Wilson
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too long. And now my local tour guide is being mean to me.’
She gave a snort. ‘Mean to you?’
He looked up through the floppy part of his hair—he really needed to get that cut. ‘Yes, mean to me.’
She folded her arms across her chest and he sat back up.
He liked her. She was smart. And direct. Maybe even a little bit quirky. This flirting could lead somewhere. He didn’t do long-term. But he could be here for up to six months. She could make those six months fun. ‘Victorious child. I like it. But it doesn’t quite have an elf-like ring to it. What was the other name they called you?’
She rolled her eyes and picked up her wine glass again. ‘Nothing.’
She didn’t like her nickname? Interesting. ‘It wasn’t nothing. It was faya-something.’
She sipped at her wine. ‘Only close friends get to call me that.’
He was curious. Could he get to be in that category?
‘Say it for me again?’
She sighed. ‘Faiyakuraka.’
He scrunched up his face and tried to concentrate on the sounds. ‘Fay-acure-aka.’ He leaned back, feeling pleased with himself. ‘Firecracker.’
‘Not even close. You need to work on your accent.’
He took a drink from his beer bottle. ‘Will you help me with that?’
This time Katsuko dropped her head on the table. ‘Give me strength. Do you ever stop?’
‘Not if I don’t have to.’
He pushed her head back up. ‘Hey, it’s my first time in Japan. I’m learning. Why shouldn’t I learn with a beautiful colleague?’
Something flashed across her face and he instantly knew it had been the wrong thing to say. Great. He tried to cover his tracks quickly.
‘Talking of accents, I thought you said you’d stayed here most of your life. Your accent is distinctly American.’
She gave a little nod. ‘And when I speak Japanese, my accent is distinctly Japanese.’
He was confused. ‘What do you mean?’
Her eyes fixed on the corner of the room. ‘Let’s just say I’m kind of caught between two worlds.’
It was a strange thing to say. And it wasn’t just the words. It was the delivery of them. As if she wasn’t entirely happy.
It felt too personal to pry. He barely knew her. He was brand new around here and he didn’t want to do anything that would upset a colleague.
He gave a smile. ‘So, what’s it like being the daughter of the commander?’
The unsettled feeling on her face vanished. She gave a little shake of her head. ‘Oh, you have no idea.’ She lifted her wine glass again and took a careful sip. ‘Let’s just say that the man you saw today is not the man that I live with.’
Avery set his beer bottle down. This conversation was getting more curious by the minute. The man he’d seen today had been like most other major generals he’d met in his career—someone not to be messed with.
Katsuko was biting her bottom lip as her fingers ran up the stem of her wine glass. It was as if she were contemplating what to say.
‘So he’s a different man behind closed doors? I just can’t imagine that.’ Avery leaned back against the booth.
She met his gaze. ‘He’s not really my father.’
‘He’s not?’ He couldn’t help it. The words just came out. ‘But Frank said...’ His voice tailed off.
‘I know. Everyone says that. Because that’s what everyone really knows. Don was a pilot—my dad was his RIO. They had to eject from a plane during a combat mission and my father hit his head on the cockpit. He died instantly.’
Avery felt his mouth instantly dry. ‘Wow. I’m sorry.’
She held up her hands. ‘Didn’t you spot the family resemblance?’ When he didn’t answer she shrugged. ‘My dad was African-American, my mother Japanese.’
‘What happened to your mom?’
‘She became unwell just after my dad died. Everyone thought she was grieving—maybe they even thought she was depressed. It turned out she had leukaemia.’
Avery shook his head. This story was getting worse and worse.
Katsuko flicked open her wallet. ‘Here they are.’ She turned her wallet around. Behind the plastic inset was an old photo. Even though it was behind the plastic it was a little weathered around the edges—as if it was pulled out frequently—and the colours were a little faded.
He leaned forward to get a better view. It was a close-up of a couple laughing together. The woman had her arms wrapped around the man’s neck. She was a petite, beautiful Japanese woman with long straight dark hair wearing a bright red top. The African-American man was much taller and dressed in his uniform. He was laughing too, staring straight at his wife. It was obvious they were in love. Even though the photo was old it was like a little moment captured in time. The love emanated from it.
He looked up. Katsuko was staring at the photo, lost in the memory. It was like a fist grasping inside his chest and squeezing his heart. He’d never experienced anything so intense. Her finger traced over the photo and she gave a sad smile. ‘They look really happy together,’ he said.
She looked up. ‘They were. My dad said that he had to court my mom. She pretended to be very traditional to begin with, even though she was secretly more like a rebel. He even learned some Japanese to try and win her round.’
‘What did he learn?’ He’d struggled to get his tongue around even a few words today. He’d have to learn the basics for working in the ER. No matter where he worked, he always tried to learn a few words of the language. Japanese just seemed a little trickier than most. Maybe Katsuko could help him?
She shook her head and met his gaze. ‘Oh, I don’t want to give away any of my dad’s secrets. Before I know it you’ll be using them on all the women in the base.’
‘Maybe not all the women.’ The words came out naturally. He couldn’t help but flirt with her. He’d be crazy not to.
She laughed at him. ‘You think you’re good at this, don’t you?’
He laughed back. ‘Only when I’m jet-lagged or drunk.’ He stared at his bottle. ‘I’m not sure which one I am right now.’
She gave a nod and glanced back at the photo, touching it with her index finger. ‘Kokoro no sokokara aishiteru.’ It was almost a whisper.
He bent forward. ‘What did you say?’
She shook her head. ‘Kokoro no sokokara aishiteru. It’s just something my dad used to say to me as a little girl.’
Now he was really curious. ‘What does it mean?’
She made a face. ‘I guess the literal translation would be, “I love you from the bottom of my heart.” But when my father used to say it he pressed his hand to my face and then to his chest. It was more like, “You have my heart.”’
‘That’s lovely.’ It wasn’t really an expression he used much. Most guys in the world didn’t describe things as lovely. But it seemed right. ‘You must miss them so much.’
She closed her wallet and pressed her lips together. ‘I do—just like any kid would. In a way, I was lucky, even though it didn’t feel like that. I didn’t lose them both together. That would have been worse. My mother helped me through the death of my father, and she helped prepare me for her own death. She, and Don.’
‘So, the General adopted