After we got back to the hotel, Ma gave Princess a bath and then put her straight down for a nap. Poor Baby needed it, she fell asleep on the walk back to the hotel and then again in the tub. 

Once she was done it was our turn, and we all found out quick that beach sand is pretty blasted difficult to get off you on the first or second try. So that took a while, particularly for Sprout, who was practically head-to-toe in the stuff but who hates baths or showers at any time. While we scrubbed, Pop went out on a grocery spree, came back with enough food for two armies, took half of it down to the row of grills behind the hotel building, and got to work. 

After we were all presentable again, we basically sat around, talking quietly and occasionally going down to see if Pop needed anything done or fetched. That wasn't normal- the quietness, I mean. As I may've mentioned, we're not usually a particularly subdued bunch. But that day was different. None of us felt very lively, and even Sprout didn't have nearly as much to say as usual. No one even had to remind him that the baby was sleeping- he was quiet all on his own, which told me how spooked he was feeling about the afternoon. 

But no one was feeling it more than I was. Right or wrong, I'd been left in charge, and a whole bunch of ugly 'ifs' were chasing around in my head. Actually, it was mostly one big 'if': If Mouri-san hadn't been there...

I suppose that was why I was so nervous about him coming over to eat with us. I don't usually get uptight at the thought of company, but that evening I was. I guess I had a little hero-worship thing going on. He had saved my little sister, and almost as important, he'd stood up to my parents and defended me- and standing up to Pop and getting him to back down takes some guts. So I was having that feeling you get when you like or admire someone so much that you feel kinda awkward and shy just thinking about them. My stomach kept getting butterflies every time I thought about it, and since I wasn't thinking about much else, that was a lot of butterflies. 

When I get nervous I fidget, and by five o'clock I had the fidgets so bad that Ma told me to go outside and use some energy before the place burst or something. So I did. I went down to the parking lot (we were on the second floor of a six-story hotel) and walked around and around the building- interrupted by Pop a few times, who seemed to think I'd been sent to be his messenger-boy- until I felt a little calmer. I was also feeling sweatier, since it was still pretty darn hot out, and the heat off those grills (he was using three of them) wasn't helping. I went back inside to get a cold drink, but I didn't stay there for long. For some reason, I still don't know why, it was very important to me that I meet our guest and sorta guide him inside. Maybe 'cause I know meeting our family can be a kinda overwhelming experience. The beach didn't really count, that wasn't a formal social-affair thing. 

You know how it is when you're expecting someone from a certain direction and you catch a movement from the corner of your eye and there they are walking up from a different direction entirely? Startling experience. And that was what happened, a minute or two after five-thirty. I'd stopped circling the building like a shark or whatever- a nervous shark- and was standing at the side of the hotel, watching the front parking lot with the ocean off to my left. Something moved off to the side and I turned to see someone walking up from the beach on my left. I knew it was him right away, of course, and it gave me a major jolt to see him there so suddenly, where I totally wasn't expecting him. He obviously hadn't gone the way I told him- and thinking that, I honestly believe I blushed, 'cause I felt like an idiot. A grade-A idiot with a stomach full of electrified butterflies. What the heck had I been thinking? Of course he knew his way there; he lived in this town! He must think my brain was full of sand!

There wasn't much to do about it at that point, though, so I sort of clenched my teeth and hurried over to bow, a little out of breath and more than a little flustered. "Hi, good to see you- should've known you'd know a shorter route- my father's over there-" I pointed at the grills, which probably wasn't necessary, considering all the smoke and sizzling that was coming from the area. "-but I don't think he's done quite yet. Everyone else is up in the room, if you want to go up." 

I got it all into one breath somehow, and the look Cye gave me is one he's had lotsa practice with since then: surprise and amusement mixed together.

"Ah- it smells good," Mouri-san observed. "I did as you said and brought a large appetite," he added cheerfully, and I grinned at that, relaxing a little. 

"Let's go ask how long before it's done," I suggested, and led the way over. Pop looked up from the grills long enough to bow and greet our guest and savior- not in quite those words, but close enough- then told me it would be another fifteen minutes before everything was ready. "Get the plates out," he added over his shoulder as we headed for the stairs.

"I wondered about that," Mouri-san remarked as we got to the top of the steps and walked down the hall. "You said he would be cooking, and I wondered if that meant there were kitchens in these rooms."

"That would be interesting," I reflected, "but it would probably make them too expensive to stay in."

"True," he agreed as I opened the door.

I suppose it really was too much to hope that bedlam hadn't got the upper hand again. Our family's incapable of controlling our chaos for very long.

The first thing I noticed was that Princess was up from her nap, sitting with Ma on the sofa and listening to a story. The brothers were making the majority of the racket, as usual, playing Gundams-Army-Trucks (it's one of their specialized games, very noisy) near the sofa. Sister was setting the table and telling the boys to keep out of her way, which always results in at least one of them making efforts to get IN her way. I had to raise my voice a bit before everyone noticed that our guest had come. My brothers- still holding their toys- bowed, Sister bowed; Ma got up, holding Princess, and bowed, formally welcoming Mouri-san. Baby, on the other hand, fixed her eyes on him, cuddled close to Ma, and put her finger in her mouth in a plain fit of the shy's. 

I knew how she felt.

Mouri-san readily returned the bows, thanked my mother, inquired what the boys were playing, complimented Sister's dress, then looked at my baby sister. "Hello," he said kindly. "Is it a good story?"

"Hime-chan, don't stare so," Ma told her, looking down. 

"Oh, it's all right- I guess I look a little different now," our guest remarked, sounding amused, and I silently felt that he had a point. His clothing wasn't precisely formal, just nice dark-blue half-pants...I think they call those culottes or something? or are those shoes?...and a white shirt with lighter-blue stripes on the sleeves. A big change from a pale-green swimsuit. His hair seemed lighter than I remembered, too, and redder. He really didn't look very Japanese at all.

"Hello," my little sister murmured at last.

"It's good to see you- are you feeling better now?"

Princess nodded, letting go of Ma's collar. And then, before I quite knew what had happened, our guest had taken a few steps forward and held out his arms- and Baby practically dove at him. 

Pop came up with the food a few minutes later- including the biggest steaks I'd ever seen in my life, and that's quite a few- and we all sat down to eat. Shin had the guest-spot and the first serving, as a guest should, and seemed a bit embarrassed about it. But he definitely enjoyed the food; he made Pop's week by wishing that 'someone who could cook like you, sir' would open a restaurant in the area. "But then, there probably aren't many who can," he added, in as nice a compliment as I'd heard in a while. Pop practically grinned, he always appreciates it when someone acknowledges his hard work. But what really got him going was when Shin started comparing recipes with him. Apparently our guest was no poor cook himself, though most of his experience was with seafood.

It got pretty rowdy after dinner. Princess got totally over her shy fit and it wasn't long before she was hanging all over Shin like he was another brother; she eventually fell asleep while he was holding her. Sprout was taken with him too, and kept tugging on his arm or sleeve to get his attention and tell him something 'very important'. Sister quizzed him for minutes at a time about sea life- dolphins and clams and otters and stuff- and Yun asked about pirates, which made our new friend laugh and explain that Hagi wasn't rich enough for pirates to pester. And when the kids weren't monopolizing him, Pop was. 

As for me, I sat back and watched, not saying much at all but smiling a lot. Mostly I was watching 'Mouri-san' as he slowly metamorphised into 'Shin'. And I don't mean just that I got a good idea of his personality, though that's true. He was a nice person, kinda quiet-shy and a little solemn, and it was nice to watch him start to talk more, laugh more, and eventually ask Ma please to call him by his first name. I liked that, it helped me relax, too. I can be formal when I have to, but it's not my thing and I hate the awkwardness it causes. Um, but anyway, what I mean is, I also got that 'hero' business mostly out of my system. I still admired him for what he'd done, and was grateful, but I'd stopped thinking of him as 'that stranger, the rescuer' and started thinking of him as 'Shin, a friend.' It makes all the difference in the world.

It was past eight-thirty when Shin regretfully announced that he really had to be going- he didn't want his mother and sister worrying about him- and everyone looked disappointed. I have to say I was probably the most disappointed, I'd hardly got any chance to talk to him at all and I really wanted to ask him a couple things. So while Pop was pressing the remains of the steak on him, 'for his family', and finding a carton big enough to put it all in, I went to the door and put my shoes on. I finished in time to see Shin trade our sleeping Princess for the box of food, and I sorta half-heard, half-saw him saying something quietly to Ma as he did. Ma nodded and said something back, looking down at the baby, and that kinda got my attention. Then it was out the door and down the stairs to the parking lot, and as Shin set off, I glanced back at my mother. Ma nodded, so I followed, running a couple steps to catch up with him. 

"Well, that was a very good night," I began, maybe a bit inanely.

"Oh! Ah...yes, it was- I enjoyed it very much. It was good of you to ask me." 

That was kinda formal. I couldn't tell if he was just surprised or if the shyness was creeping back in. After all, we had hardly talked, and I guess he hadn't been expecting an escort. "I'm glad. The kids sure enjoyed it- hope they weren't too rowdy for you?" I offered.

"Oh, not at all. It was amusing," he said seriously. "I have only one sister, much older than I am. I have always been curious about large families."

Hmm. What was up with this? He hadn't been so...stuffy before. "It's bedlam, is what it is," I tried again, ruefully. "But you fit right in. Princess doesn't usually get over her shy so fast..."

"Ah. I see now why you call her Princess- she's the most precious little thing." 

I looked over at him with a smile. Finally he was starting to loosen up a bit. "She's got you, doesn't she?" I teased lightly. "She winds everyone's heart around her little fingers..."

"She does." Shin nodded, smiling back. And then he just didn't say anything! We walked a few dozen steps in silence, the sand shifting under our feet, the last rays of the sunset flickering faintly over the rolling ocean waves. I was going to have to empty out my sneakers... Why wasn't he saying anything? He'd had plenty to say to everyone else, why wouldn't he talk to me? 

"What was it you said to Ma when you gave Baby to her?" I asked at last. 

"Mm? Oh. I was suggesting that she take Princess to a doctor in the morning. To be safe. It's normal to be sleepy and tired after so much excitement, even with a nap, but I heard her cough a couple times and that's something to check," Shin told me matter-of-factly. "It might just be her throat's irritated from the salt, but she might have actually got some water in her lungs, and if so, that's not too good."

I stopped walking, my heart suddenly beating harder, my attention all diverted. "Not- too good?"

"Salt water can cause a lung infection, like bronchitis or pneumonia. But don't worry, if there is anything amiss, they'll catch it before it can get serious. That's why she should go tomorrow, and not wait to see if it gets worse or not," Shin explained in the same calm way, stopping beside me.

"Oh," I said a little shakily, and couldn't quite say anything else. 

"Don't worry," he repeated, touching my arm. I looked at him and even in the growing dusk I could see the encouraging expression on his face. "If there's an infection starting, they'll give her some pink medicine to drink for four or five days and she'll be fine. It's not really so dangerous, it's just that you don't want to delay."

I let out my breath. "Thanks. Thank you, Shin- I think that's something else we owe you."

"Actually, your mother was going to take her there anyway. She said she heard the cough too."

"Ah." I took another breath and let it out, suddenly feeling a lot better. "I might have guessed. Ma's good like that."

"I didn't mean to alarm you, R-re- Rei-" Shin stuttered for a moment and looked away. "I'm sorry...I'm-"

It took me a minute to realize he was trying to say my name. Well, now we were gettin' somewhere. Away from the formality, to be specific. "Aw, don't worry about it. Call me Kento, it's easier and I like it better anyway."

"You have a good name, I wish I could say it right," my new friend murmured, plainly embarrassed. "But Kento is a good name, too...?"

"I picked it up at school," I answered the half-there question. "Got tired of being called uchiwa and ougi all the time," I added sourly, using two Japanese words for fan- the kinds you use to cool yourself off with, not the sports-fanatic kind. "Or Sneaker or something, for Shuu... being Kento reminds people that I do kendo, and makes 'em less likely to get smart with me."

"Sounds like good thinking," he replied, sounding amused. "I suppose I'm lucky no one's called me Leg yet..."

I laughed; I'd forgotten what an American 'shin' was until just then. "Could be worse."

"It could! But no one calls me Shin much, either- not at school. We have an unusual English teacher," he explained. "He gave us all English names...I got Cyrus, so now most everyone at school calls me Cye. I'm so used to it, I almost turned around to see who was behind me when I got home and Mother called me Shin." 

I chuckled again and Shin-Cye laughed with me. "So which one should I call you? Or maybe I should call you both so you don't forget either one?" I asked, half joking. That is, I was joking about the forgetting part.

"Well, let me see," he replied, pretending to sound thoughtful. "If I forget my birth name, my mother will remind me, but if I forget my English name, the teacher might give me a bad grade. So you better just call me Cye." 

"That's very sensible thinking," I commended him. "All right then, Cye and Kento we'll be."

"Sounds good." 

And then there was silence again. It was definitely almost dark now, but it was still very warm out, and of course salty-humid from the sea. There were clouds gathering offshore, I noticed, and wondered vaguely about evening thunderstorms. I wondered even more what it took to get Cye to talk for more than thirty seconds at a time. Shy was one thing, but really! 

Or maybe it wasn't shy, I thought suddenly. Maybe he just didn't like to talk much. Naw, that was silly, he'd spent the whole evening talking with my parents! AND my brothers and sisters. What was it about me that-

About me? Well. Maybe...the way I'd grabbed him and hugged him without warning this afternoon? Maybe that was enough to make him uncomfortable and a little distant? But, sheesh, it wasn't like I was gonna do it again! And it was a very special circumstance...

"How long will you be staying?" Cye broke the silence, startling me.

"Another two weeks- until the school break ends. We only got here yesterday," I explained, encouraged. 

"That long?" Cye seemed surprised, but I thought he also sounded pleased. "I hope you won't get bored, there's not as much to do around here as at some of the other beaches."

"I doubt I'll get bored, not with four brothers and sisters all creating a racket. Boredom isn't usually a problem for us, but sanity's another matter," I said wryly. "If you don't mind hanging around with me, I'd be glad for a little peace and some company my own age." And then I wondered what possessed me. There I was worrying that I'd made him uncomfortable that afternoon by being too familiar or whatever- and then I went and said something like that! 

"I wouldn't mind," he said, so mildly that I didn't know what to think. "My friends at school don't live around here." He hesitated. "And- well..."

"Ah, that's lonely?" I offered, not sure what else to say. "And a lot of people off somewhere else on vacation, huh? Where there's more stuff to do?"

"I'm...sure some of them are," he replied distantly. "But the ones that are here... You see, they like making trouble, and they never seem to know when to stop. And they don't think much of me for refusing to join them."

"Oh, people like that make me mad!" I declared, suddenly indignant. I'd known some fools like that. "Getting found by trouble is one thing, you just gotta deal with that, but going and looking for it- making it, on purpose- is stupid. Worse than stupid, 'cause other people can get dragged into it and maybe get hurt by it. Maybe not cut-and-bruised hurt," I added, thinking about it. "But get blamed or feel guilty. Or scared."

"That never bothers them," Cye said bitterly. I heard him stop walking, and stopped too. "They don't think about feelings, and as long as someone's not in the hospital, it's all fine."

"Rotten brats. Well, never mind them, they're all wrong in the head." 

"There's times when I believe that," he muttered. It was too dark to see his face now, he was just a tall, pale blur standing beside me, but his voice was so bitter and angry that I didn't know what more to say. So I didn't say anything, and for a minute or two the only sound was the waves. 

"Hey, you know, you probably ought to get that into the refrigerator soon," I observed at last, reaching over to tap the box under his arm. It was true, and also, it was time to change the subject.

"Mm? Oh- yes." Cye started walking again, angling away from the water, and I followed. "The road is up here," he explained, "and my house is just two blocks from there." 

One small sand dune later, we were standing by the side of the road in the glow of a old beat-up streetlight. There were a few trees scattered around- I could see them as dark shapes against the dark sky- but the majority of what there was to see was light shining out of house windows. They weren't exactly close, either. "Two blocks?" I repeated, somewhat doubtfully.

"Well, once you cross the road." Cye paused. "Odd, there aren't many lights on tonight. Either it's later than I think, or there's something going on in town."

I squinted into the darkness, shading my eyes from the streetlight overhead, and after a minute or two, realized that there were some big, blocky shapes on the far side of the road. Houses with the lights off, sure enough. "Oh, now I see. I wondered why they seemed to be all scattered around randomly, most blocks go in rows..."

"It's not a helpful time to be seeing much of anything," Cye observed, truthfully enough. "Kento, I'd ask you up to my house, but I think Mother will be asleep already. She's...her health is...weak."

"No problem. I should be getting back anyway." And I wasn't all that sure I wanted to go up to his house anyway. Not until I figured out what was going on and why and...

"You'll be able to find your way in the dark?"

Wouldn't it be something if I walked him home and then he turned around and walked me back again. We could spend the whole night escorting each other!

"I could find my way from here, easy," I boasted a little, smiling at my silly thought, "but I think your beach route is quicker, so I'll go that way. It's sure straighter."

Cye hesitated. "Well...all right..."

"I never get lost," I told him more seriously. "Never once, even in places I haven't been before. It's weird, but it's really useful!"

That's the total truth. I've never needed a map, I never lose my sense of direction, and even places I haven't been before I can figure my way around 'em in about three minutes. Less, if they're small places. As long as it's a place on Earth, that is.

Rowen says it must be part of my Ronin ability: to be able to tune in to the Earth's magnetic field and orient myself. Then he speculates about the poles and compasses and rotational spin and axes- er, axis plural, not the wood-chopping thingy- and other scientific stuff like that until my head's more disoriented than my body could ever be. Why, he started speculating about sunspot activity and solar flares once and didn't stop for an hour. So I go with Ryo's reasoning: he says I have the Ronin version of a built-in homing beacon. He says being so in tune with the Earth, it makes sense that I always know more or less where I am in relation to it. That's good enough for me.

"I see," Cye said a little blankly. Obviously he didn't, not really, but he didn't make an issue of it. Instead, he bowed. "Thank you for the evening, it was a great pleasure. And have a restful night."

Well. All right. Fine. If formality was what he wanted, formality was what I was gonna give him. I bowed back, lower than he had, and said stiffly, "The pleasure was our own. May your own night be peaceful, Mouri-san- and my family's regards to your honored family."

"Ah...of- course." Cye's green eyes were wide in the yellow glare of the streetlight. "Uh- I'm sure your Princess will be fine, but let me know anyway?" 

"Certainly," I agreed, wondering how I was going to manage that. "I- I'll look for you on the beach in the afternoon."

"All right; and I'll make it easy and walk down your way." 

I nodded, but before I could bow again he'd turned and disappeared into the darkness. I listened to his footsteps fade away, shook my head a few times, then turned and headed down the sand dune, feeling pretty confused and disapointed. What Rowen calls 'let down'. 

I'm no analyst; all I knew was it's hard to be friendly with someone when you gotta keep prying 'em open to get 'em to talk, and it's even harder when three-quarters of what they do say is all courteous formula. It's too frustrating to put up with for long. I don't have that kind of patience, and even less the patience to try and figure out what someone means when they don't come right out and just tell me. (It's not very Japanese of me, but then we aren't all subtle and indirect. Just the majority of us.) I was also a little annoyed with myself for not just asking him straight out what the deal was. 

So I decided I'd do that tomorrow.

I wasn't sure why I had an urge to persist, but I did, and it wasn't just from gratitude. It was a feeling that I was being too impatient, rushing headlong without making allowances. I reminded myself that one couldn't expect to make friends in just one day, especially with someone so plainly shy and quiet. Just because I talked a lot didn't mean he had to, and just 'cause my family was informal 99 percent of the time didn't make his formality a crime. A nuisance at most, and most people wouldn't even see it that way. 

I guess you could say I had a feeling that he might be a tough nut to crack, but once he did, he'd turn out to be a very good friend. Definitely worth some effort and patience. So I'd give it a try and see how it went.

Boy, can I call 'em or what?