Sorry, I know that's too predictable for a title, but I can't think of anything better right now.

Um. Well. Here I am again. I was going to let Kento do this part, but he said he'd rather I did. It still bothers him to think about that afternoon- although, he says, the evening was a good one- and it'd bother him even more if he had to sit down, remember it in detail, and then write it all out. 

Looking at it that way, I can see why. It was a very frightening way to meet anyone. And Kento absolutely hates being in a situation like that anyway.

So, let me think... It was August, the eleventh, I think. A Monday, eight days after I got home from Toyama. I remember it was a scorchingly hot summer that year- we had record heat almost every day and the town had far more than its usual share of water-seeking tourists. All the shops and restaurants in town did very brisk business, and all the inns were full-up. Recreational vehicles and vans were everywhere, and the beaches were actually crowded, a rare thing for our little community. 

On the whole I don't mind Hagi's tourists. They're usually well-behaved, the sort of people who look for a small uncrowded beach-community to enjoy and don't complain about the lack of ultra-sophisticated entertainment. Also, they're good for business. We sell lots of vases and figurines and candle-holders and such during tourist season, things that tend to get dusty during the winter. We even have a few 'regular' tourist customers, people who return around the same time every year and who Mother considers more 'long-distance friend' than 'customer'. 

But that summer was an exception to the general rule. The sheer number of people would have made for crowds and delays and strained resources, even if all of them had been as well-behaved as our 'regulars'- which they were not. The littering reached epic proportions; there was widespread shoplifting; there were numerous loud beach parties (complete with booming music in the early hours of the morning). Public drunkenness and general rowdiness occured daily. Not to put too fine a point on it, the police force was kept pretty busy that summer. It wasn't really what I'd expected to come home to, and while I tried to ignore it, it wasn't always easy, which was frustrating.

On the other hand, I made a lifelong friend that month, so I guess everything evens out.... 

For me, that Monday began like any other day. We got up early, while it was...not cool, but less hot...and had breakfast together. Mother and Sayoko left right after breakfast to go open the shop; I stayed behind and did the few chores that Mother wanted done that day. It never took me long to finish, but it never took long to get quite hot, either, so by the time I was done, I was ready for a swim. I would stop on my way to the beach to tell Mother that I was done, and ask if there was anything she'd remembered in the meantime; Mother sometimes thought of things she'd forgotten after she'd been at work for a while, but as we didn't have a telephone in-

I know it sounds terribly uncivilized, but even if we'd had one we hardly would have used it; and as Mother said, there's no sense paying every month for something you don't use but once a week. We got along fine without it, though Sayoko talked sometimes about getting a cell-phone. She- um. Never mind. Back to what I was saying: Mother did occasionally remember something else that needed to be done, "when it's not so hot," and told me to have a pleasant swim. 

There was an additional chore to do that Monday: get some milk from the grocery for supper. That was something I didn't have any choice about waiting for, since the grocery was all out of milk (as well as a few dozen other things. Strained resources). There was supposed to be a morning delivery, though, so I hung out for a while in the shop, enjoying the coolness while I waited. It can get pretty fierce in there when the kilns are on, so during the summer we do the firing at night and leave them off during the day. The potters don't mind; they don't bake, and they have more time to experiment with shapes, designs and colors. 

I guess I was there for about an hour before the first customers began trickling in, but once they did, that was my cue to leave. Reluctantly. I always felt a little odd, leaving my mother and sister to do the work- not that it was particularly heavy or difficult work, wrapping the pottery people bought and charging them for it, but it did seem as though I ought to help somehow. But every time I tried, Mother or Sayoko shooed me away, saying I needn't help, they could handle it, and I should go do whatever it was I was planning to do. I still don't really understand why; it wasn't as though I had ever broken anything or offended anyone, and I didn't like that they seemed to think I was incapable of ringing a sale correctly.

That was what really started it: that day, Sayoko did more than just shoo me off. She pulled me off to the side while Mother was talking to a woman about a vase, and bluntly told me, "You're in the way, Shin, and it isn't professional behavior to stand around and talk when people want to make purchases. You need to leave now and let us work correctly. I shouldn't have to tell you this all the time."

I couldn't say a word. I pulled away, hurt and indignant, and walked out of the shop determined never to go in there while my sister was in there again. If she didn't want me there, I wouldn't go. All I wanted was to help, but if she wanted to do everything by herself, then fine. Let her. And while she was at it, let her get our milk and do all the other chores from now on! 

Walking wasn't getting me away from there fast enough, so at the end of the first block, I stopped walking and jogged instead- and that was a mistake. The sun was searing down, the heat reflecting back from every surface, the black roads softening and shimmering with heat waves. By the time I got to the house, I was covered in sweat, my head was aching and my pulse had accelerated uncomfortably, leaving me panting and a trifle shaky. I was too upset to care much, but I did gulp down a glass of tepid water before changing into my swim trunks. Then I did what I always did when my emotions got the better of me: I went straight for the sea. 

It was probably the best thing I could have done; if I'd been paying attention, I would have known that I was edging close to dehydration and heat exhaustion. 

The beach was crowded, which only added to my discontent. I'd been hoping to make the change to Torrent unnoticed and go visit my dolphin friends, if I could find them, but I didn't dare dive down and then not come up again, not with so many witnesses around. I'd have to do it the slow way and get far enough out that no one could see me. That was an additional irritation, for- thanks to all the crowds and commotion- the dolphins had moved farther offshore. That meant a longer swim, and it particularly meant that some well-meaning visitor might get alarmed at how far out I was and try to do something about it. Upset, annoyed, dizzy, headachy and weak, I crossly kicked off my shoes and walked into the water-

And felt my hurt ease at the sea's welcome. A few moments later I knew- subconsciously- that my body was adjusting to the change in temperature and environment with the chemical version of a sigh of relief, for I felt immensely better. My headache and dizziness were gone and I felt as though I could swim fifty miles. Whyever had I been annoyed at the thought of a long swim?

I must be the only person in the world who gets cured of dehydration by being dropped into salt water as well as by drinking fresh water. 

To my surprise and relief, no one did pay any attention to me and I was able to get quite far out in short order. I was perhaps a hundred yards from the shore when I heard the first cries. Someone nearby- a very young, very frightened someone- was screaming wildly for 'brother'. I turned quickly towards the voice and my startlement became alarm. 

The little girl who'd lost one of her arm-swimming devices was well off to my right, almost even with me, and clearly caught in the strong undertow. She was hanging on with both hands to the remaining inflated yellow float and screaming- and what was far worse, swallowing water with every wave. 

I was moving in her direction before I even thought about it. That silly toy wasn't a life-preserver, and she'd probably lose hold of it any time. No one else was anywhere near her; I couldn't even tell if anyone on the beach could hear her cries. Not that I stopped to check. I swam with all my strength, all my speed, but my progress seemed unbearably slow. I had a quick, hectic thought of summoning the armor, but even as I thought it the scream stopped with a gurgle and the little yellow toy sprang into the air and then bounced off across the waves. I pulled in a deep breath and dove, deep and fast, reaching out-

-and there was a thin little wrist in my grip. Thank God.

The first thing she did when I pulled her above the surface was to scream straight into my ear and try to fling her arms around my neck. I was enormously relieved at the first- she was conscious still- and had been expecting the second. It's the usual response of a panicking non-swimmer. I knew what to do, though, and fortunately she was small enough that I could restrain her without any difficulty. I put her back to my front, supporting her with my arm across her body and my hand under her chin. "Gently now, little sister," I said as calmly as I could- I was breathing rather fast. "It's all right, I've got you. Don't scream, just breathe through your nose so you won't get anymore water in your mouth. That's right," I encouraged as I felt her relax a little. "Good girl. Now, all you have to do is just stay calm like that and let me swim us back to shore." 

"O-o-k-kay-y," she stammered, and whimpered a little as I started moving. I think she was scared by the fact that all she could see was the wide-open ocean; I was swimming with a mix of side-stroke and back-stroke and that put the beach behind us. 

I was all ready for a long and exhausting swim to safety, but oddly enough, the powerful undertow that had been pulling the child out to sea seemed to have reversed without warning. I hazarded a look down into the water and wasn't entirely surprised to see a blue glow around my legs. Suiko, I thought gratefully. Somehow the armor had sensed my need and was responding to it, pushing us back towards shore. Now what did that do to Mother's theory that the warriors were only concerned with the world-wide view and not the lives of individuals? I was going to have to tell her that. After I got ashore! Then I put the highly-inappropriate-at-the-moment thought out of my head and concentrated on reaching that shore in the first place. 

It took less time than one might have thought to reach the shallows, and soon I dropped my feet and waded carefully through the diminishing waves. I didn't really want to put the little girl down- what was shallow for me was still deep for her, and she was probably too tired to wade anyway- so I lifted her around and balanced her on my hip as the water dropped below my waist. It seemed I was right, too, for she immediately put her arms around my neck and her head on my shoulder, and that trusting little gesture touched my heart.

It was as I was noticing the small crowd that had gathered and wondering who she belonged with that I was suddenly stopped in the most unusual way. A boy of about my own age came splashing through the knee-deep water; I had just enough time to notice that he was in shorts and a t-shirt instead of a swimsuit and that his face was almost gray. The next thing I knew, he had flung his arms around us- not just the little girl, but me as well.

'Taken aback' doesn't quite cover my reaction. I'd rarely been hugged in my life, and never by a complete stranger. But if he was related to the little girl, I could quite understand why he was reacting that way. And it seemed he was, for I heard the little one start to whimper again. "'Niisan. 'Niisan, Anmei scared. Anmei cold! Water take Anmei away, take my swim-swims!"

The elder brother let out his breath with a little shudder and then drew back a little, still holding out his hands. I felt the girl's weight shift and released her as her brother took her from me, settling her against his own side with a practiced movement. "Thank you," he said shakily, holding her close and gazing at me. "Thank you so much. My family can never repay you for this-"

"Oh," I said, feeling my cheeks get a bit red. "There's no need, I think anyone would have done the same- and I was glad to." I smiled at the little girl, Anmei, who was shivering. "Perhaps a towel would be good," I suggested. 

"Towel," the little one echoed. The boy looked at her and nodded, turning, and we walked through the water and up the sandy beach together. The people who had gathered drew back, seeing that the excitement was all over- and hopefully also motivated by a sense of privacy. The boy led the way up to where two other boys, both younger than him, though older than the girl, knelt anxiously by a pile of beach supplies. I sat down beside a brightly colored towel, suddenly aware of fatigue, and surreptitiously touched the waistband of my swimsuit to make sure the Torrent orb was still there. None of the kids noticed; the boys were bustling around their little sister, one bringing a small pink towel, the other a closed sippy-bottle of something. The oldest boy had sunk to his knees, still holding the child, and I smiled as I watched him wrap her up and cuddle her. Then a thought struck me and I looked around, suddenly puzzled as to where the the parents of these four might be.

"Anmei want some apple juice?" I heard one of the boys inquire, and turned- too late- to see the little girl gulping at the bottle. Then she stopped. And then what I'd expected to happen, happened. Salt water doesn't do well in the stomach, and adding a sugary juice on top of it had the effect of hurrying it straight back out. 

"Oh dear," I murmured when the poor kid stopped heaving and was crying softly into her big brother's shirt. "I'm sorry, I should've thought to warn you...just water, plain water, will help best. Juice isn't good right now- the sugar."

"Go get a bottle of water," the elder boy ordered the middle boy, who got up and ran off. "Shove some sand over that," he added to the youngest one, who made a face and obeyed, carefully. "There, Princess, it's okay. Do you feel better with all that nasty gone?"

"U-uh-huh," Anmei sobbed, and then started to calm down. I suspected she really did feel a lot better, though probably very tired and weak. 

"That's good. Ma and Pop will be here quick, and we'll go home and rest, okay? Just relax." Then he looked over at me, blinking a little. "Ah- would you want a towel, too? We have plenty."

"Thank you, but the sun is very warm. And I'm used to the water, I don't get cold easily," I responded, and suddenly noticed his eyes. Overall he looked like any other citizen of Japan, with his black hair and dark skin, but his eyes were deep blue instead of brown or black. A moment later I registered a few other things- the roundness of his face, the subtle shape of his eyes, the muscularity of his body. Somewhere in his past, I concluded, there was probably Chinese or Korean blood. I wondered if he really was my age; he might be several years younger. "I am Mouri Shin," I introduced myself. "I was born here."

"We're the family Shuu. An Mei-" he nodded at his little sister. "Shun Ryu over there...Yun, who left...Rinfi, our other sister, who's getting our parents...and I'm Lei Fan."

I blinked. Definitely Chinese names. "A pleasure," I said politely. 

"The honor is ours, believe me," Lei Fan said fervently, hugging his sister again. "Isn't it, Princess?"

The little girl peeked at me, then looked up at her brother. "He help me," she whispered. "He come get me- why brother not come? I call you! Call and call and call..."

The boy winced and his eyes closed for a moment. "I heard, and I tried," he murmured. "But I couldn't get there, baby, you know I can't swim..."

He couldn't swim? He couldn't swim?! I sat staring at him in astonishment that quickly turned into anger: what kind of parents left four or five little kids on the beach in the care of a boy who couldn't even swim?

I found out a minute later. The middle boy, Yun, came back, and with him were his older sister and two very upset-looking adults. The mother reached down and snatched her youngest into her arms, startling the poor thing; the father immediately demanded to know what had happened, how it happened, and why Lei Fan had 'allowed' it to happen. 

I hadn't been in a very good mood anyway, as you may recall, and now I was rather tired and a little unnerved. I'd had plenty of practice in life-saving but this was the first time I'd done it for real. And I definitely didn't like the automatic assumption that this kid was to blame when in fact it was the parents themselves who'd been shockingly careless. So I pretty much lost what was left of my temper. "What happened," I said quite sharply as Lei Fan was struggling to explain, "is that, because these children were left in the charge of one who is unable to swim, one of them was nearly taken by the sea. And that is why there is a sign at the parking lot which states, among other rules, that children must not ever be left without the supervision of an adult- theoretically, one who is a competant swimmer. For most people," I added waspishly, "such a requirement is a matter of plain good sense, but some people do need to be told such simple and necessary things." Then I turned to the boy, who was staring at me with a look I couldn't quite fathom. "You did the right thing in not trying to go after your sister by yourself. Even if you can swim well, life-saving is a very dangerous thing- you must know exactly what to do, and how, or both you and the person you're trying to save will die."

Lei Fan paled again, and his father, who looked about to say something cross, closed his mouth. "Y-you risked your life to save my sister?" the boy asked softly.

"Not so much." I looked up at the little girl. "She's little- and she was very good and brave. She did just what I told her to and didn't panic or struggle. And that was good, I didn't have to get tired trying to calm her down. I'm afraid those little arm-floaties are going to be visiting America, though- I didn't try to get them back." 

The mother made a little sound when I said that and hugged her daughter tighter. 

"The- the floats?" the father said, a bit hoarsely. "They were lost?"

"Better them than her!" I retorted, firing up again.

"Of course, of course, that was not what I meant," he answered quickly, moving to his wife's side and gently touching An Mei's hair. "And we are grateful, more grateful than one can properly say, that you were near enough to reach the little daughter. A plastic swimming toy, what is that compared to a daughter's life?"

I cooled off at that, understanding as much from the mother's expression as the father's words. They hadn't been thinking 'lost' in terms of 'drowned', unable to save herself when her only floatation was gone, only in terms of 'lost at sea', carried off by the tide. I glanced at the eldest boy and knew from his face that he hadn't suffered any such confusion. No wonder he'd hugged me when I brought her back.

"For the future," I said, much more politely, "other measures... as you see now, those little toys are not reliable things, and not meant to be used in such a serious way."

"For the future," the mother repeated. "The future indeed; she has a future, and it is you we thank for that." She straightened up and looked at me with such a mix of gratitude and respect that I nearly squirmed. "We, the family Shuu, place ourselves in your service, if such a humble thing could ever be of use to you. This gratitude we will carry to the ends of our days."

There's not a lot to say to something like that. I didn't feel I'd done anything particularly spectacular- a burning building, maybe, but I knew the sea and had a secret advantage, so I wasn't feeling very heroic. And surely anyone else who'd noticed would have done the same. It was a duty, in a way, the sempai duty of protecting the younger ones and enlightening the ignorant...

"I- apologize for my strong words," I ventured, suddenly realizing that the 'ignorant' ones I'd enlightened were not exactly my juniors. "It was not polite of me to speak so."

"It was truly spoken," the father admitted with a sigh. "We were most careless. The water was so calm, we did not think of danger."

I had to nod at that. "The sea is as treacherous as she is beautiful," I replied simply. "Today the water is calm because the sea-going current, the undertow, is especially strong. It makes the waves smaller."

"So big waves are safer?" the youngest boy inquired, easing some of the seriousness out of everyone's mood.

"Well, the big waves won't pull you out to sea so fast, but they do like to come down on your head with a crash," I informed him. 

"Oh." He rubbed the top of his head cautiously. "I don't think I'd like that."

"Not many do," I agreed, smiling. 

"You know much about the sea- you live here?" the father inquired.

"Yes, I was born here. My mother owns the pottery store in the town, and my elder sister helps run it. We're Mouri; I am Shin," I introduced myself.

The parents exchanged a glance. "We would be honored if you would join us for a meal this evening, Mouri-san. It is only a small token of our gratitude, a mere nothing, but we would be most pleased to have your company."

I did the polite thing and declined a few times, until the mother appealed to An Mei, who finished coaxing me into it. Then the family gathered up all their belongings and set off towards the parking area- all except the eldest son, who lingered to tell me where they were staying. He even gave me directions how to get there, to my amusement. 

"What time should I be there?" I inquired after he finished suggesting my route.

"Um...about five-thirty or six. We'll probably be ready to start by six-thirty, but Pop cooks fast, so it might be sooner." He paused, then added, "Anything special you like? Or any food allergies?" 

I looked over in surprise. The question was unexpected, but the reference to his father cooking surprised me more. I wasn't aware that any of the hotels had kitchens in the rooms. "I'm not allergic to any food- that I know of. And I like most of the usual stuff. Though one does get a lot of seafood around here." 

"Ah. Pop runs a restaurant. Food is kinda second-nature to us all," Lei Fan explained with a brief smile, then reached down to pick up a stray towel. "Thank you for what you said," he remarked suddenly, and I tried not to blush. 

"I didn't think he should be angry at you..."

"He wasn't really, he was scared, but he gets mad when he's scared. And since I'm the oldest-" He shrugged, but I didn't think he was as indifferent as he seemed. 

"I'm fourteen," I offered, keeping pace with him as he started to follow his family.

"I'm thirteen, next month," he replied, and reeled off the ages of his siblings. "We live in Yokohama, never been down here before. Actually, never been to the ocean before, ever. I like it."

I smiled. "I've never been to the mountains, myself- maybe someday I will."

"You should. They're beautiful," he said briefly, a slightly longing note in his voice. Then he gave himself a little shake and me a small smile. "I better catch up," he said quickly, nodding after his disappearing family. "See you in a few hours...?"

"Certainly. I'm looking forward to it," I answered, suddenly wondering what time it was and whether I was going to be able to use my armor today or not. Probably not- but I could always take a night-swim, and it would be easier to change unnoticed then anyway. Satisfied with that plan, I bowed in response to Lei Fan's bow, watched for a moment as he hurried off, then turned for home to clean up and find some acceptable dinner-clothes.