Running Away to Home

By: Rebecca A. “Sinead” Fahey-Leigh

Author’s Note: This is a fictional story, set in a fictional Japan. The characters are my own creation, as are the circumstances. The ryokan that Faith works in isn’t, to my knowledge, real, nor is the Yokohama Church of New Life and its pastors, nor the kimono shop, to my knowledge. Christ For the Nations International belongs to its respectful owners and caretaker.

I have used two bibles for this project of mine; The New International Version Study Bible, and The Message//Remix. All scriptures are copied accurately. If there are any mistakes on the Japanese culture or anything at all, those errors are my own, and I apologize. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it! (The verses don’t come until the fourth part. This is just a general disclaimer.)

But if there are any mistakes in any way, please let me know so that I can fix them as soon as possible!

Chapter One

She stepped off of the plane and into the country without a word, large blue eyes silently taking in her surroundings. It looked like the airports back in America, with people running around just as frenetically, just as rushed, just as stressed trying to get onto connecting flights. She looked at her ticket, then up at a large screen, trying to match up the flight number with the baggage train. Finding it, she sighed, and started upon her away, following a couple she had remembered was on her flight, obviously on their honeymoon.

She retrieved her small roll-along bag and walked to the monorail system. She watched the landscape of the foreign country unfold before her elegantly, seeing a snow-shrouded conical mountain reign majestically over the horizon.

Looking toward the city, she saw that they were over water again. Soon, she knew, she would have to switch to a train, and from there . . .

Sighing, she rubbed her long fingers across weary eyes. What was she doing here in Japan? Was she completely out of her mind? There was only one person here that knew her. She had come because she couldn’t stand being in America anymore. There was no place for her in that country, so why should there be a place fore her here in Japan? The chances were worse than slim, and closer to none. Still, though . . . it was a better chance here, than in the slums of Dorchester and Southie, back home in Massachusetts, where every day someone was in a gang fight, wounded in said fight, shot, raped, or killed.

They arrived at the station, and she went to wait in line for a phone, flipping through a guidebook she brought with her, finding the number. Once it was her turn, she skipped six 10-yen coins into the slot, and dialed the number. A woman picked up. “Moshi-moshi, yusu hosuteru!”

“Uh . . . Watashi wa amerika-jin desu, Rosebreyer Faith.”

“Ah! So sorry! You are the American Miss from Bos-tan, hai?”

“Hai. Forgive me, my Japanese is horrible. I was wondering how to get to the hostel.”

“Where is your location?”

“Uh . . .” Faith Rosebreyer looked around. Finding the roman phonetic spelling of the train station, she tried forming it in her mind. After asking for forgiveness if she butchered the word, she replied, “HamamatsuchÇ.”

“Aa, you said name well! Take train toward TÇkyÇ, get off at Shimbashi station, Orenji. Take Orenji to Ginza. Wakarimasu ka?”

“Hai, wakarimasu.”

“Get off at Ginza. I will send my daughter to meet you.”

“DÇmÇ arigatÇ gozaimashita.”

“Iie, do itashimashite.”

They hung up, and some of the coins were returned. Faith picked them out of the machine absently and re-deposited them into her coin purse in the same manner before walking to the waiting platform for the train.

“RÇsubur~-san!” a girl’s voice called over the hubbub of people leaving the station. Most looked like they were going shopping. Faith hitched her backpack up, then walked closer. The girl smiled. “RÇsubur~-san?”

“Hai. Hajimemashite.”

She bowed slightly, smiling. “Hajimemashite. I speak your language. I studied it intensively in secondary school.”

“You’re good at it,” Faith said, smiling. “What’s your name?”

“Teraginn Ohisa. You are . . . ?”

“Rosebreyer Faith. You can call me Faith.”

“No, no! That wouldn’t be proper on a first meeting!” Ohisa replied. She thought. “But your name is hard to say as it is in Nihongo . . . may I call you RÇsubur~-san?” The Japanese teenager, most likely Faith’s age of nineteen, indicated that they should start out.

Remembering some random Japanese words, Faith said, “Well, my name is translated into shinji, right?”

“But shinji is a boy’s name! Are you sure about that?”

“Not really,” Faith replied, smiling slightly.

The Japanese girl blinked, then tapped her finger against her chin for a short moment. “Aa! How about Shinrei-san?”

Faith blinked, then nodded. “It sounds gentler than shinji. Thank you.”

“Shinrei-san, then.”

“But one thing, please?”

“Hai?”

“‘Chan,’ please.”

“Are you sure, RÇsubur~-san?”

“Hai.”

Ohisa smiled, seeing that this girl was like most of the classmates she had graduated with. “Shinrei-chan. Then you call me Hisa-chan.”

Nodding smartly, Faith smiled, glad that there was someone else who knew her in Japan. Ohisa lead her to another train station. On the way, Faith asked, “So what does shinrei mean?”

“Aa, but that’s a long answer I would have to give you. See, it all depends upon the kanji that you use.”

“I know that shin means soul or heart, right?”

“The core of one’s being? That’s correct. But it has other meanings as well.”

“Okay.”

“You know the first one. The next means genuine, or real. The final one is a prefix, meaning ‘new.’ Wakarimasu?”

“Hai. What about rei, then?”

“It means soul or ghost; zero; bow or salute; gratitude or thanks; and finally example.”

Faith was silent for a moment. “Wow.”

“You have a lot of choices, ne?”

“So desu.”

Ohisa laughed. “So you know some of our words! That’s good!”

“What meaning should I choose?”

“Leave that up for time to decide. Be patient. You’ll understand what your name means in time.” Ohisa grinned. “I just thought that it was a kawaii name.”

“I like it. Thank you.”

Later that day, the gaijin was asleep in one of the bedrooms in the hostel at the west-south-western side of TÇkyÇ. Ohisa looked to her mother, speaking in her native tongue. “She wishes to help out around here? She asked you?”

“Yes. And I am considering it. You are going off to college soon, and you’ll be busy with your schoolwork. I cannot ask you to help out with the chores around here,” her mother, Teragin Tenteru-san replied, carefully wiping dishes and placing them upon the shelves. “She had been wondering if there were places around here that a foreigner could work in. I was thinking about here.”

“I can still help around here. I’ve looked at my syllabus. There isn’t that much homework in the major I’m in: clothing design and fabrication.”

Her mother fixed her with an icy glare. “You will not shirk your schoolwork.”

“I won’t! I . . . this foreigner is a good girl, I know, but please, Mama, I can do the work.”

“She’s looking to earn money.”

“I know. But there are stores that I know of that her help would be more appreciated. And one of those stores is just two blocks away. She won’t have to spend her money upon a subway pass.”

Watching her daughter for a long while, the mother was silent. The door opened, and her son, Ohisa’s twin, walked in, nodding his head. “So we have another guest?”

“Yes. She’s sleeping.”

“It’s only three in the afternoon!” he laughed, shaking his head. “Where is she from?”

“The north-east coast of America,” Ohisa replied. “Boston.”

“KyÇto’s sister-city,” Eishin said, smiling. He walked into the kitchen of the family-owned hostel, opening the rice-cooker and piling some into a bowl, then ladled soba into another bowl. “So she’s staying here for two more days? Then where?”

“We’re hoping to strike a deal with the hotel you work at,” Teragin-san replied before her daughter could say what she had been thinking of.

“I’m on my break right now, so I’ll talk it over when I return.”

“Thank you. I will also be talking with them, but sooner. They will most likely ask you questions when your return, though.”

“It’s nothing, Mama. They like the people you refer to them.”

Silence fell until their mother left. Ohisa looked to her brother, who waited until he heard the front door close, signifying that Teragin Tenteru-san had left to do as she had said that she would. He sighed. “So you haven’t told her yet.”

“No.”

“You can’t hide it from her forever, you know.”

Ohisa sighed. “It’s not my fault.”

“Hi-chan, you know that you have to tell her sooner or later.”

“Eishin, you don’t understand! The moment I tell Mama, she’ll tell Dad, and then he’ll kick me out! You know how he feels!”

Eishin sighed. “Yeah, I know. He doesn’t even understand why I can’t seem to keep a girlfriend. But your issue is different. Your girlfriend doesn’t cheat on you.”

“That’s the problem, though. We were nearly seen by Mama last week.”

“Where.”

“At that . . . place. The one I heard about.”

“Why was she there?”

“She was with Dad. They were on a date.”

Eishin smiled. “That’s cute, though. They’re a sweet couple, even though they’re getting old.”

“Yeah.” She sighed, sitting upon a chair with a “thump.” Stretching her hands above her head, she whispered, “What’s worse is that the gaijin girl is cute. I couldn’t help liking her. But she was clearly into watching boys.”

“How cute?” Eishin asked, used to his sister’s sexual preference. She sometimes helped him in finding other girls, but they were always good friends, rather than girlfriends.

“Big blue eyes, short brown hair, and very slim.”

“Just how you like them,” a new voice said, walking in. “Exotic and cute.” The tomboyish girl sat crossed-legged upon the floor, thin frame slouching in her baggy clothing. Her straight, iridescent white-dyed hair was down, hanging nearly to her waist. “So?”

Eishin shook his head. “I don’t want to witness anything between you two.”

At that moment, however, Ohisa stood, smiling. “RÇsubur~-san!”

The American blinked. “Was I interrupting?”

“Iie. This is my brother, Eishin, and my very good friend Tama.”

Faith bowed formally, then stood straight. Eishin looked her over. She was as his sister described her as, but she forgot to mention the looseness of limb that the girl possessed, moving with a grace that didn’t quite seem worldly. It was something that she managed to pull off with what looked like considerable, unconscious ease, and she had a calm and peace around her that defied anything Eishin had been around before.

She was a fighter, knew some sort of self-defense.

Her jeans were obviously old friends, with a hole in each knee, and the tank-top she wore had a retro symbol upon it. With a start, he grinned, recognizing it. “Transformers! Sug!” Faith’s face lit with a radiant smile, causing Eishin to grin. “You have seen?”

“Hai! I actually watched one of the following series.”

“Honto ni? Which one?”

“Beast Wars.”

“Aa! Dinobot-san was a favorite, ne?”

Faith nodded again, still smiling. “I was hoping to see if I could find the translated version of Beast Wars here sometime.”

“How long are you planning to stay?”

Faith’s smile disappeared. “As long as I can.”

Eishin bowed, smiling. “I can show you where you can find a copy. May I also show you around?”

“Now?” Faith asked, clearly wondering.

“Aa, I have to return to work in gofun . . . five minutes. But tomorrow, maybe? That’s Sunday, and I have it off from both work and Cram school,” he offered. Clapping his hands once, holding the palms of both hands together, he looked to his sister, speaking in rapid Japanese. She replied something, then asked him something else. With a smile, he nodded. She sighed, shaking her head, but smiled, and replied with something in an excited tone. Faith watched this intently, then looked at Eishin again. He smiled. “A festival is about to come up. It’s called Narita, and it’s for sakura viewing. It’s next weekend. We were wondering if you would like to join us.”

Faith shook her head. “I don’t have any clothing that would be appropriate, gomen-nasai.”

“But I want to offer to you something,” he replied, still smiling.

“What is it?” Faith asked warily.

“When we are out tomorrow, I know a shop that sells kimono and the usual accessories second-hand and cheap. I wish to gift you in helping you get your first set of traditional Japanese clothing, in return for accompanying us to the festival.”

Ohisa whispered behind her hand, “He is desperate, as you Americans say.”

“Damare-yo!” Eishin said, his voice cracking.

Faith hid a smile behind her hand, then replied, “Are you sure? I’d hate to be inconveniencing you.”

“Fuben,” Ohisa whispered, translating the long word for her brother, who knew nearly the same amount of English as she did, but sometimes the longer words slipped by him.

“No, not at all!” he replied to Faith. He glanced at his watch. “I have to get back, but I will talk to you tonight, possibly? Myself and my sister are going out for dinner, and if you could accompany us, I would be honored.”

She smiled, then nodded, giving in easily. “Thank you. I will.”

He bowed, then left the room. Ohisa smiled, and replied, “He’s really not desperate at all, but he’s always like that for people. Not everyone who comes into the hostel here is kind and gentle, as you are. Most are tourist kids who only need a place to stay the night, and they’re not always nice people.”

“Nevertheless, thank you very much,” Faith said, bowing politely.

“Did you want to come with us to the arcade?” Tama asked, knowing that this foreigner was a good kid after all.

“No, but thank you. I’m still sleepy. I only came out here because I was wondering where I could use a bathroom.”

Ohisa smiled, pointing to a door behind her. “You look like you have another question.”

“Uh . . . yeah. A place to bathe?”

The twin smiled, then giggled a little. “You’re a private kind of American, I can tell. We have a good bathing room here that Mama already said you could use. Remember to wash and rinse before you get into the tub.”

“And you don’t drain the tub when you’re done,” Faith replied.

“That’s right!” Ohisa winked, then smiled widely, kindly. “Did you want help with your back?”

Faith blushed, shaking her head. “I should be fine. But thank you.”

“We’ll be at the arcade for about an hour. We’ll bring you out to dinner at six, hai?”

“Should I wear something nice?”

“Iya,” she replied, shaking her head, “anything will do. It’s a ramen bar.” She winked. “So that means that it’s cheap, too, so you don’t have to worry about spending too much money.”

“Oh! Thank you.”

The two girls left. Faith sighed, then entered the restroom, seeing a Japanese-style toilet there. She blinked, then sighed, remembering how it was used. Once done, she returned to her bed and slept for another hour, dreaming dreams that weren’t remembered when she awoke an hour later. Gathering her bathing supplies, she went into the bathroom and washed her travels off, remembering to keep her near-shoulder-length hair up out of the steaming bathwater by wrapping the towel around her head.

And thought about Eishin.

She sighed, closing her eyes, remembering how his face was open, kind, smiling. His eyes were nearly completely black, and then, they were just a shade before it. They were somewhere in between, with a ring of grey lining his pupil. His hair was long, pulled back in a ponytail. She remembered how the last three inches were a red-blonde color, while the rest was pure black. It couldn’t have been more than two inches longer than her own.

He had been tall, about two to four inches taller than her, which was odd, since she thought that Japanese men were about her height. The girls were around her height, slightly shorter, but the guys were almost always taller, which she found odd.

The door opened.

She looked up.

Eishin’s face blushed, and he closed the door. “Sumimasen! Gomen-nasai, RÇsubur~-san!”

She rubbed at her face, trying not to be annoyed or angry.  “It’s okay. I’m done, anyway. I’ll be out in a moment.”

She got out of the tub and dried off, remembering to pull the cover over the tub to keep the water warm. After silence from the other side of the door, she heard, “Are you angry?”

The tone of his voice was meek, as if someone had his ear and was tugging on it, making sure that he was apologizing. She shook her head, then remembered he couldn’t see her. She started dressing, then replied, “No. Surprised.”

“Forgive me, please.”

“I do . . . uh . . .”

“Eishin, onegai.”

“Eishin-san. I’m sorry that I forgot.”

“Or Ei-chan, as my sister calls me. Don’t worry about remembering names.”

Fully dressed, Faith opened the door, seeing Eishin wincing, his sister glaring at him. She turned to look at Faith. “Oi, my brother’s an idiot and forgot to knock. Gomen. For his stupidity.”

Faith smiled, then replied, “It’s fine. I was nearly done, anyway.”

“And we have both a job and a residence for you,” Eishin said, eager to try to make her feel better after walking in on her.

“What?” she asked. “How?”

“Down the street is the hotel where I work. I’m saving up so that I can get into college in a southern school, where some of my friends went to. But they were looking for someone who can answer phones from America and Europe without a Japanese accent. Mama and the owner grew up together, so if she says that there’s someone here in the youth hostel looking for somewhere to stay for more than three nights, she sends them over there, and the profit of having the person staying is split in half between them. So when she told them about you, and how you wanted to work somewhere while you stayed here for a time, the owner immediately agreed. So . . . if you’d like to, that is, you can work there.”

Faith bowed, then straightened. “I’d be happy and honored to. ArigatÇ.”

Click here for part two