salut et quoi de neuf (hi and what's new)! since Cold-Blooded already has about one volume done, i thought i'd put up this oneshot, Ciao, Hajime! now, i don't speak Italian, but i did some research on simple words i could incorporate where people could still understand what was going on (there's Japanese too, but if you don't understand, just PM me). it's just a oneshot i wrote for fun, and i might revise it or continue it someday... read, review, and enjoy, s'il vous plaît!

Italian words: (in order of appearance)

Ciao - hello (informal)Desolato - sorry

Grazie - thank you, Buon Giorno - good morning

Si - yes , Grazie Mille - a thousand thanks

Prego - you are welcome, Che - what

Mi dispiace - i'm sorry (formally), Perché - why and because

Ti amo (anche) - i love you (too)

Ciao, Hajime

The first day I set foot in Tokyo, I doubted that I would stay for five hours. I wanted out! There was no one I could understand, and no one who would help a poor foreigner like me. I was hopeless and felt the stares of the citizens burning through the back of my head. As soon as we reached the hotel, I was desperately begging my father to send me back to Italy.

“You know, Fiammetta, I can always hire a translator,” My dad offered as I moaned and complained on my bed. “At least stay one day.”

“I can’t do that! I’ll go crazy!” I crossed my arms and pouted, hoping he would cave in. “I’m completely miserable here!”

“But this is a vacation. Can you try not to be miserable?” Although he was as frustrated with the situation as I was, he kept his voice calm. “I’ll only be here for a few days, and your mother is going to stay in the U.S. until September.”

“I’ll just stay with-”

“No, Fiammetta Ludovica Amatore.” I flinched when he added my middle name. I had always hated my middle name, which wasn’t considered too embarrassing, but I just didn’t like it.

With one final moan, I got up and walked over to the bathroom, slamming the door once I was inside. Dad was not going to send me home, no matter how much I sulked.

I leaned over the sink, my palms flat on the counter. As I gazed into the mirror, I saw my face, crimson from trying to argue my point. Loose strands of hair dangled around my ponytail. There was no way around it - this was the appearance of defeat.

After I splashed some cool water on my face to relieve the stress, I sat down on the bathroom floor and leaned my head against the door. Being dragged around a country where I was an absolute alien was not a “fun experience” - as my father had advertised it.

“That’s it - I’m staying with Mom next time…”

- -

“Ugh…Dad, do I have to eat this?” I poked at what was supposed to be “breakfast” as he straightened his tie. Disgusted, I moved the tray off of my lap, and switched on the television to the Italian news channel. I was thankful that the hotel had international channels.

“It’s your choice, Fia, but you’ll be hungry later.” With his tie set, he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I’ll be fine…I think it’ll be good to diet over this vacation.” Taking a sip of my tea, which was the only delicious thing in my mind, I began flipping through the latest issue of one of my fashion magazines.

He gave a small sigh, and I heard him squirt some toothpaste onto his toothbrush. “Fia, you can’t die from it.”

“Excuse me? This stuff is raw! I won’t be surprised if-” My babbling was cut short by an unexpected knock at the door. I sat still like a statue, hoping I could pretend I didn’t hear it. While I waited to see if there would be another knock, I heard my father continuing to prepare for the day.

“Fia, can you get the door?”

Darn - he did hear it.

“Fia?” He repeated, ready to poke his head out from the bathroom.

“I’m getting there…” I gave in, and hopped off of the bed, my hands on my hips. If there was a Japanese-speaker at the door, I would have some trouble. I was learning English…but even that wasn’t going too well.

Timidly, I turned the knob, and peeked around the door. “Um…”

A Japanese boy probably the same age as me stood outside the door with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, still in his school uniform. My jaw dropped, and I was about to scream for my Dad.

“Ohayou gozaimasu! Hajimemashite, Amatore-san!” He bowed and was about to shake my hand, but I yelped and closed the door. Was this guy a stalker?

“Who was it, Fia?” My father came out of the bathroom and saw me panting by the door.

“W-well, I-I don’t know-” I could feel the shade of my cheeks steadily turn scarlet.

He chuckled, and ruffled my hair - which was something he stopped doing when I turned thirteen. “They were Japanese, weren’t they?”

Without another word, I simply nodded in return.

To my surprise, he turned around and opened the door. The boy was still there, with a puzzled expression.

“Desolato…come in, please.” He moved aside, and I began to shrink away, too embarrassed at what had happened.

“Grazie, buon giorno,” the boy replied in perfect Italian.

“Fia.” My father caught me trying to sneak off to the other side of the room, and I reluctantly turned around to see him.

“Si?” There was a peculiar scratchiness to my voice as I answered.

“This is Hajime, the translator I hired for you.”

“T-translator?” I echoed while I tried my hardest not to stare at him.

He checked his watch and picked up his briefcase - he was about to leave me! “Yes. Now, he will show you around Tokyo, and help make this vacation fun for you.” Great, it was almost as if he had hired me a babysitter.

“But I’m tired!” I tried to protest and rubbed my eyes to add emphasis on my words. “The time change - it’s taken its toll on me!”

“Fia, don’t pout. If you don’t like walking around and seeing the sites after one hour, Hajime will bring you back to the hotel.”

One hour? One hour?! If the gibberish surrounding me didn’t kill me, the people traffic would.

“Grazie mille,” my father thanked him and shook his hand as he continued to prepare to leave me.

“Prego,” Hajime replied politely. I rolled my eyes, knowing that my translator would kill all fun - even if it was already dead.

“Oh and Fia,” my father turned around as Hajime opened the door for him. “Just let go, and relax.”

I didn’t respond verbally, but nodded anyways. My idea of relaxation was doing what I wanted in my hotel room. Maybe he would understand that after the day was over.

He waited until my father had reached the elevator to begin speaking. I kept my mouth tightly closed, eyeing him cautiously. Did he actually know Italian, or was he scamming my dad? Sure he seemed innocent but…

“Why don’t I show you where the best stores are,” he offered calmly, tired of my silence.

“You…want to take me shopping?” I questioned in disbelief. Wasn’t there anything else he could think of?

“Well, your dad mentioned that you’re not very comfortable here in Japan, so I thought that it would help if we did something you were used to.” He handed the bouquet of flowers, which I had completely forgotten about, to me.

I thought it over for a moment while I shyly admired the flowers. Clicking off the television and slipping on some comfortable shoes, I grinned, thinking that this was the nicest anyone had ever been so far.

“Alright, let’s go.”

- -

I stood outside of the clothing store, starting at the store name unrecognizable in kanji. “Uh, Hajime?”

“Yeah?” He stood right beside me, watching my nervousness carefully.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a clothing store.” His answer made my question sound dumb - which it was, but I didn’t need a native making me feel even more foreign.

“What I meant was…is there a particular brand here?” I gripped my purse strap a bit tighter, watching a few Japanese schoolgirls giggling at us as they left the store.

“They carry many of the major ones, if that’s what you’re asking.” He leaned against a bike rack, and waited for me to make up my mind.

“Well…fine, I’ll take a look inside,” I agreed reluctantly.

He flashed an excited smile at me and started to walk into the store. “Good - you’ll like it.”

As I followed him, I eyed all of the merchandise carefully - I had to make sure everything was authentic. The clothes were neatly organized into specific areas, and I headed towards the shoes first. I heard him chuckle behind me.

“What?” I snapped.

“Nothing.” He stood as still as stone, his grin wiped clean off of his face as soon as I turned around.

“Oh, it’s always something,” I prodded, annoyed that my translator was lying to me. What if he was hiding the truth, or mistranslating words on purpose? When and why did he learn Italian? With those thoughts in mind, I became paranoid.

“I give in.” Hajime took a seat by a mirror in the corner of the shoe section. “I was just thinking about how typical it is for a spoiled little rich girl to go to the shoes first…”

My image of him as a nice, quiet, Japanese student was shattered by those words. I almost flung my purse at his head, but instead, I tightened my hold on my purse until I saw my knuckles turn white. “Spoiled little rich girl?!” I hissed and glared at him. Spoiled, I might have been. Little, I wasn’t any more. But rich - he made it sound as if I was bathed in greed and selfishness.

“You don’t know how much your father is paying me for the first hour?” he teased, picking up a shoebox, as if he were looking for something in particular.

“No…” I muttered, trying on a pair of cherry red ballet flats, while biting my lip. His words could not make an impact on me, or else, I would probably be arrested for something as ridiculous as punching him - which I was very close to at the moment.

“What was that?” Either he was deaf, or emphasizing the point that he was right. He returned the shoebox to the rack and leaned back against the wall.

“No,” I repeated louder and with gritted teeth. With my head turned to the side to hide the tears forming in my eyes, I pulled the right shoe on, then sat down on a bench in the middle of the aisle.

“Oh, Fifi, don’t pout.” His shadow appeared behind me, and the sound of his footsteps echoed in my mind. “I’m only kidding.”

“Haha, very funny. You’re supposed to be helping me feel comfortable in this country,” I reminded him, sniffling faintly and cringing inside at his nickname for me, which made me sound like a poodle. This situation was becoming both scary and frustrating - I was in a random clothing store with a tricky translator, and my cell phone had been acting crazy ever since I dropped it on the street as soon as we had landed in Tokyo.

“A little humor will give you comfort,” he commented calmly, meeting my annoyed expression with a laugh. “Anyways, are we going to spend all day in here?”

I shook my head, slipping off the shoes to place them back in the box to purchase. “These are all I want.” Without another word, I brushed past him, still ticked off at how he had been towards me.

“Back to the hotel then?”

When I glanced at my watch, only forty-five minutes had passed. It would probably take fifteen minutes or more to get back to the hotel - not including getting myself lost while arguing with Hajime. That would be over an hour, and my dad would not send me home.

I sighed and waited in line to buy the shoes, considering my options. A girl who seemed to be in middle school walked into the store, eating a crepe. Crepes - now I was familiar with those from a few summers in France.

“Ciao? Aw, are you still angry at me?” He swung around into my view and I blushed, stunned at how close to my face he was. With my index finger, I gently poked him five more inches away from me.

“Well,” I began, “if it isn’t too self-centered of me, can we find something to eat first?”

He shrugged in agreement, studying my face carefully, most likely searching for the blush to deepen on my cheeks. Too bad for him, I was already recovering - I had met much more handsome Italian models back home.

Finally, it was time to whip out my credit card, and I stared blankly back and forth between the smiling saleswoman and Hajime. I tried clearing my throat, but he continued to stare at me with plain amusement on his face. Confused, the saleswoman smiled even brighter, wondering why in the world I was not spending my money yet.

“A little help would be nice?” I tried to question subtly, and his grin became wider. I knew what he was thinking - that I had caved in, crawling back to him for help. Although it didn’t make sense to me at the time, later, I understood how dependant I was on him at that moment.

- -

Sitting on a park bench with a crepe in my hand, I sighed and waited for Hajime to take a seat next to me. I could feel the country starting to grow on me, and I didn’t want to hear my father’s “I told you so” speech if I admitted it.

“Are you happy now that I gave you a piece of Europe?” He sat down, and watched the kids playing off in the distance with a smile.

“Si,” I mumbled, turning away from him. It was ridiculous having to depend on him for pretty much everything, almost as if I were a young child.

“You know, I’ve never had to translate for someone like you before.”

“Che?” Surprised, I stared at him, wondering if I wasn’t the only person he had tortured.

“You take things so seriously - it really surprised me, and the more I joked, I only found you even more upset.” His words seemed apologetic, but I was still skeptical.

“Really…it must be amusing to poke fun at foreigners.” I took a sip of the water I had bought at the crepe stand to refresh my dry throat. Trying to prevent my eyes from watering, I continued on. “But then again, it is your country, and you can do whatever you want.”

Hajime was shocked. I guessed he never expected me to react that way. Maybe while he was ticking me off, I forgot to tell him that I say what is least expected. Oh well, it was his fault anyways.

“I’m not trying to act like a jerk.” He recovered, trying to regain my trust - even though he barely had it in the first place.

“From whose point of view?” I shot back at him and avoiding his reaction. “Because to me, it seems like you’re truly set on making me miserable!” I pressed my hand against my forehead, wondering if all of this tension was giving me a fever.

He sat back, reflecting on my words. Relieved that he was finally listening to me, I slowed down my rushed breathing, while I waited for him to speak again. After five minutes, I was silently panicking.

Not one word came from his lips - yet I couldn’t make him speak, because then, I would lose this silent game. The seconds ticked on, and eventually, the children who were playing in the park went home, babbling excitedly in their gibberish.

Finished with my crepe after several soundless minutes, I attempted to pretend I didn’t care, and stared off into the distance, watching the traffic on the streets. Soon my father would return to the hotel after his business meeting and it would be too late to demand being sent back to Italy. I had already trapped myself by staying over an hour.

“Fine,” I muttered quietly, my eyes beginning to fill with tears, “I give up.”

I was only met by a grin that grew as the sunset over us. No words accompanied his reaction, and I gritted my teeth when I realized why - he wanted me to apologize.

It was never easy for me to say “I’m sorry” and it wasn’t going to become any easier at that moment. My stubbornness and confidence had allowed me to always be right - now, close to sobbing and shocked, I was fumbling with the thought of getting down on my hands and knees crying “mi dispiace” at his feet.

Hajime’s patience seemed unnatural - this was the first time I had been around someone who had stayed silent for almost an hour. In my mind, I was wondering if the silence wasn’t only torturing me, but him as well. Or, I could have been completely wrong, and he was a cold, heartless, translator robot.

My hand shook as I took another drink of water and prepared to sound as sincere as I could - I guessed that if I didn’t, he would make me say it again.

“Hajime…” I began calmly and professionally.

For some strange reason, I saw his finger twitch when I called his name. Such an odd movement, but to me, it seemed as if something was awakening between us…

“Mi dispiace,” I breathed out at last, working up the courage to meet him in the eye. When I did, he was looking at the ground. Wonderful - I had tried so hard for nothing.

Before I could deflate too much, he sighed and looked up at me, a pained expression on his face. Why was he so hurt? Did I say something completely offensive? If I did, was I going to jail?

“Fiammetta.” His voice was calm, vibrating slowly throughout me. I had no idea why he used my full name - which made me even more nervous.

“I said it - wasn’t that what you wanted?” The sun kept setting, and I knew that if I wasn’t home before dark, I would become terrified and no matter how well lit the streets were, it didn’t comfort me being out at night in a foreign country - with my translator.

“It was nice…but it’s not what I want.” His gaze shifted toward the setting sun.

“So, what do you want?” Curious to see what was bothering him, I leaned to the side to see his expression.

He appeared hesitant, but continued on anyways. “What did you think of me when I first spoke to you?”

“That you were scary, but cute, and intelligent.” I rushed through the cute part on purpose, hoping he didn’t catch it.

A faint smile formed on his lips. “I thought you were cute too.”

Shocked, I felt as if I was about to fall off of the bench. So all of his teasing was what boys used to do to me in fifth grade? Did boys here in Japan do that too?

“You know, I only poked fun at you because I wanted to know if you trusted me.”

That statement slightly relaxed me, knowing that it was only him who was odd. Yet, there was the word “cute” that stuck out in my mind. How was supposed to react to that?

“I’m guessing you want to head back to the hotel?” He stood up, and stretched his legs while I remained seated, possible outcomes of this conversation working through my mind. Option number one: I follow him wordlessly. Option two: I talk a little bit more with him. And finally, option number three: I do something a little bit impulsive…

“Fia?” He turned back and I brushed loose strand of hair behind my ears. Tonight, I was going to go with option number three. Why? I wasn’t sure…maybe I picked that option because there wasn’t a reason behind it.

What I hated yet loved the most was how he said my name - so softly, so carefully, as if I was fragile and needed to be protected. My skin tingled, the evening air silently skimming over my bare arms, causing goosebumps to form. While I waited breathless after he called my name, my mouth felt dry and my impulse was almost being scared away by logic.

He was about to sit down again, but I stood up, slinging my purse over my arm, my mind made up. No, this “spoiled rich girl” could understand diversity and let loose. But at the same time, I felt as if my heart was pounding against my ribs, looking for an escape. There was something about his presence that made me nervous yet safe - and now I liked it, almost as if it were a high.

“Che? What’s wrong?”

I stared off into the distance to prepare myself. He was different from anyone else I had considered being close to…other than the fact that he was Japanese. It seemed as if I was gawking like a dazed bug at a street light.

“Won’t you speak to me? Perché?” he continued to ask, and I sighed, turning to face him.

“Perché…” I replied, feeling myself become pulled closer to him like a magnet. “Ti amo...” I finished faintly. True, it was sudden, and yes, it was rushed, but that didn’t matter - I still felt it.

“Ti amo anche,” he replied before I could take it back.

My jaw dropped. I was lost for words because his short response was not what I expected. Maybe if he simply ignored me and said, “I’m going to take you home”, I would have done a little better. Now, he had attached himself to me, and I couldn’t shrug him off. We were stuck.

“But then again, your father’s going to take you home tomorrow.” Hajime was hesitant to tell me, trying to not crush my heart.

“Oh.” The wind lightly blew my hair around my face and before I could reach up to fix it, his hand was already there, smoothly stroking my hair. Guilt was beginning to rise in my throat - did he like me a thousand more times than I liked him?

“I wish I could have made your vacation better…so you would stay.” The sincerity of his words almost sent me into his arms, but my eyes wandered, examining the night sky clashing with the city’s lights to distract me.

He raised my chin with his fingers and caught my surprise showing plainly as always. “Too late, huh?”

I nodded, too mesmerized to find words.

With a bright smile, he came forward, and our lips met. At first, it was awkward, due to my internal doubt holding me back. But those last words made me realize what I had been missing in Italy and why I had to take a vacation - because I had always been too late, and I needed to find myself where no one else knew me. Then, I let myself relax, enjoying the starry night and pleasant kiss from my last night in Japan.

When we pulled away, I reached up to my lips, brushing my fingers past them sensing fresh warmth. I wasn’t trying to prove that vacations were better when you fell in love with your translator, but for me, it worked. His grin showed that he knew what was running through my mind - I wanted to stay.

“You want to stay?” he asked, proving his psychic abilities.

“Obviously.” I shrugged, peeking at him with a blush.

He held out his hand, and I timidly accepted it.

“Alright then, we have three more days,” he continued on brightly.

“But you said-” With a red and perplexed face, I knew that he had lied - again!

“I didn’t finish.” His explanation made me feel like I was stupid. “He was going to take you home tomorrow, and he wanted me to tell you that. But, he changed his mind, and wanted to see if I could change your mind.”

Well, he had won at doing that. “Fine - let’s go back.” I started walking off towards the lights, tugging kindly on his hand.

He followed, amusedly behind me, murmuring something in Japanese. I shook my head, showing that I didn’t understand or care. His was with me…maybe that was all I truly wanted. That was not spoiled, right?

The stars twinkled above our heads, different from the ones I had seen in Italy, but still, part of the same sky. Everything had calmed down, like the ocean view spa trip I originally had in mind. As I stared up at the moon, listening to Hajime’s footsteps behind me, there was only one thought in my mind: to see his cheerful face tomorrow morning greeting me when the sun rose.

random babble... well, there was my first attempt at incorporating Italian and manga writing - not too bad in my opinion. the Italian was surprisingly similar to French, which made it easier to work in, but there were some formal/informal things that drove me nuts. anyways, why aren't there a lot of oneshots on fictionpress? i hope i'll see more! a bientôt et au revoir (see you soon and good-bye)!