Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

March 15

I am not sad to see the ocean go. Though you may have wanted me to become a stewardess there is little chance I will now. I will write soon once I am settled down. Send father my regards.

Asuka folded the piece of paper and put it in an envelope. She wrote on the back of it the address of her family’s home and the one of her new apartment that was scribbled on a sheet of paper she held in her left hand then stuffed the letter into her leather briefcase her father gave her and the paper in her skirt pocket. She took in the city that would become her new home that sat along the Hudson River, which flowed into the Atlantic Ocean. Its brick and smoke was similar to where her parents lived and felt oddly nostalgic. It was better than what she imagined the place to be like—she had heard from people around town that Americans were polite and well mannered. They certainly were not all riding horses or living a nomadic lifestyle like her grandmother had said. Just what did she get up to? The ship slowed as it entered the harbour. One of the shiphands threw an anchor over the side and steam howled from the stock. A sudden explosion of sound erupted all around the ship as the crew began working to securely dock the ship. Asuka giggled as she put on her gloves. People began filing off the ship down the ramp latched to the side and she joined them. The captain saw them off and did some form of taking his hat off and nodding his head, shaking a few peoples hands, or helping them cross if they were afraid of falling into the harbour. She held onto her hat as the wind picked up. Around the harbour people were running about, docking ships, and selling fish they had caught previously that day. One man from a stall offered her to buy some but she declined. She wandered around, aware that she had no idea where to go. She pulled out her piece of paper again and sighed as she looked at it. Something began pulling at her side. She turned her head to see what it was—maybe she got caught on something—only to find that a pick-pocket was pulling her wallet out of her pocket. She tried to smack his hand away but he became startled and ran off before she could. Asuka groaned and hitched up her skirt, giving chase.

The pick-pocket was hardly as competent as she would have thought. Everything she heard about them was that they were the lowest of the low but he seemed more like a schoolboy. He was around her age and wore clothes with patches sewn into them. His shoes were scuffed—but the most well kept part of him—and his hair was matted. He climbed onto the roof of a nearby building and looked back at her. He crouched down.
“You must really want this, missy,” he said. “I ain’t never seen a girl run in heels this far for a wallet.”
“Then are you going to give it back?” She gritted her teeth.
“Nah, just know you won’t be able to climb up here.”
“My, how cocky.”
“My, how naïve,” he mocked. “See ya!” He jumped to the next rooftop and continued on his way. Asuka stood there at the bottom, dumbfounded. Was everyone this weird? She rolled up her sleeves and lifted herself up onto one of the crates stacked next to the building. She grabbed the edge of the roof from on her tippy-toes and pulled herself up again before rubbing her sore arms as she continued chasing after him, cursing under her breath.

Hearing the sound of clattering roof tiles, the pick-pocket turned his head and jumped. He lost his footing and tried to regain his balance, flailing his arms out. Asuka grabbed hold of one of his arms and pulled him onto the roof. She bent over, panting.
“You idiot. Just give me my wallet already,” she said through breaths.
“Geez, okay. Since you won’t give up,” he pulled her wallet out from his coat pocket and handed it to her. She started flipping through it. “Don’t worry, I didn’t steal anything,” he crossed his arms.
“Yeah right, I know how yo-“ she stopped. Sure enough everything was where it should have been. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him smirking. She cleared her throat. “If you had I would have blown a fuse. Not what I need when I have just arrived,” she put the wallet back into her pocket.
“Yeah, what’s a prissy Frenchy doin’ in good ole New York? Didn’t like the castle?”
“I do not have to answer that. Cannot say I enjoyed whatever this was. If you will excuse me.”
He gestured with a slight bow. “After you princess.”
She rolled her eyes.

Stepping back onto the main street, she took a deep breath in. It smelt…musky, lovely.
“Wait! You don’t wanna go there,” the pick-pocket yelled.
Asuka turned around with a huff. “You should have told me beforehand then.”
He shrugged. “You were focused on other things,” he walked over to her. “You should take this alley down to the other side, then a left when you get back to the street.”
“Oh,” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and thought for a moment. “Do you think you could show me where 1917 7th Ave is?” She showed him the piece of paper.
“From where you’ll get out, turn left and it should be on your right,” he answered. She turned to leave before doubling back towards him. “Um, you gonna get going?” He asked.
“Once I leave what will you do?” She asked.
“Probably get some food from a fancy restaurant. What do you think?”
“Then would you like a job? You don’t have to take it but here’s my card,” she took out a business card from her skirt pocket.
“You keep everything in there?”
“If only.”
“What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing honestly. I will have to teach you how to use a typewriter, how to write and read. Quite a few things that will cost me time and thus money. The only thing I will gain is an easy employee and a happy feeling inside.”
“You mean one you can easily threaten.”
“If you want to see it that way.”
He rolled his eyes. “If I take it will you leave?”
She nodded.
“Fine,” he snatched the card from her.
“Well, au revoir,” she walked down the way he had suggested.

Asuka breathed in once she was outside her new residence. Walking around the ground floor she imagined where a reception desk, potted plants, and chairs would go. She was having such a good time planning that before she knew it the sun was setting. She gathered her briefcase she left by the door and went upstairs. Having a single, measly lightbulb was better than nothing but it was certainly going to be something she would have to get used to. Maybe later she could get another one. The kitchen was the living room and her bedroom was cramped. She took off her hat and hung it on the rack next to the door then collapsed onto her rickety bed at only seven in the evening.

Chapter Text

March 20

My first day in America was exciting to say the least. My wallet was almost stolen but fret not: I managed to keep it. Tell grandmother that I have not seen a single cowboy.

Asuka leaned back in her squeaky chair in the kitchen/living room and sighed. It would be a few weeks before she would hear anything back. She was unsure when she should begin to feel concerned: it might take a few months even. Pushing those thoughts away, she opened her briefcase and began unpacking. It was hardly a distraction, as she was done in a few minutes, but it did remind her to go shopping for groceries. When she looked at her wallet she knew that it would probably be stolen again if someone like that pick-pocket could. She began looking through her belongings. Luckily she had a strong string and cut a piece off to use. She pulled her curtains closed and slipped her skirt off. Next to her mattress on the floor was her portable sewing kit. She opened it and threaded a needle. The string would need to attach to something after all. She worked quickly to attach a loop to the inside of her right pocket.
“This should be enough,” she tugged on her wallet. The loop wrinkled from the force but stayed attached. She was hardly the best seamstress around, or even one for that matter, so to see it hold up so well was exciting. She gathered her things and slipped on her hat.

The first thing she noticed was that the Americans lacked employees who would grab your items for you; you would do that yourself. It was strange that a process that took so much time back home only took a few minutes here. Now her whole schedule was ruined. She had so much time to spend and no idea what to do with it. The pick-pocket was not in contact yet and she was unable to think of how to find him. Maybe a walk by the harbour would be nice. It was where they met so she might be able to run into him; killing two birds with one stone.

She recoiled at the smell of fish, wishing she no longer had taste buds. Everything seemed to be as it was yesterday. She saw bass, carp, perch, and many other types of fish. Children were chasing each other in un jeu de chat and bumped into her, apologizing as they continued along.
“My, my. Watcha’ doin’ out here, misses?” That was him! The pick-pocket. He was sitting on a crate, eating a slice of bread. He looked starving.
“I thought I gave you my business card,” she crossed her arms.
“Doesn’t mean I can read it,” he hopped down. “You hit your head or something?”
Asuka flushed bright red. “It just slipped my mind.”
“Anyways, I got ta thinking last night about your offer and maybe I’d like to check it out,” he scratched his head.
“I hate to disappoint but I am not set up at the moment. I was actually hoping to find you to discuss this very thing. Perhaps we could flesh out a deal?”
“If you want me ta help you set up just say so. You’re doing all the heavy lifting anyways.”
“Parfait. Then let us be off,” she turned on her heel and tried to hide her wide, beaming smile.

While they were walking, Asuka tried striking up a conversation.
“Do you always hang around the harbour?” She asked.
“Yeah, they all’ve known me for my whole life. Give me their leftovers and sometimes other things.”
“Explains the bread today.”
“And tomorrow who knows what it’ll be.”
“Maybe you could introduce me?”
“What for? I saw your look, you hate it there.”
“How long did you know I was there?”
“A while. Was curious why you came out there. Didn’t think it’d be ta see me! I’m flattered.”
"Well, think nothing of it."
He snickered. “Mhmm, alright.”

“I spent my time last night planning what the place would look like once it was finished. I will purchase everything, of course,” Asuka said.
“How kind of ya.”
“Is snarking the only thing you do? I will also be using you to help carry the furniture,” she placed her hands on her hips.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get it done.”
They entered a furniture store. Asuka’s eyes lit up and she rushed towards the loveseat section.
“Is this that fancy money?” She asked.
"Probably?" He replied. "What is France like anyways?"
“I know little about Paris but the countryside is very rural. Going into the cities was always a treat!” She looked from seat to seat before nodding her head. “This is the one.”
“Here we go.”
They spent the next half-day purchasing then moving furniture to the foyer of her building. Afterwards they took a much needed break.
“I’m bellows to mend,” the pick-pocket flopped onto the armchair. Asuka looked at him, scrunching up her face, as she stood near the reception desk.
“So, got everything you need?“ he asked. Her face returned to a look of normalcy as she answered.
“Yes, that should be everything. What is your impression?”
He scrutinized the decor for a moment, taking in all the details: the cream walls, armchairs, coffee tables, and plants. He smiled.
“You did good, misses.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Then I can start setting up the office things,” she tapped her fingers on the counter. “Now that we are colleagues, I feel it would only be proper to know your name.”
“It’s Judai. What 'bout you?”
“Asuka Tenjoin, or Alexis Richelieu if you prefer.”
“Why do ya have two names?”
“The second is for those who prefer European names.”
“Huh, didn’t know they did that.”
“It would have been changed anyways once I came here.”
Judai became momentarily lost in thought.
“And what of you? What about your name?”
“Parents gave it to me and that’s 'bout it," he said it with no particular affection.
“I see,” she smiled. “It’s lovely.”
“Same to ya.”
“How about we start your typewriting lessons?“
“But I don’t know how ta read or write,” Judai protested.
“You shall learn as we go along,” she sat behind the reception desk and inserted a sheet of paper into the typewriter. “It is a bit finicky but I am confident in your abilities,” she hit a few keys. “That right there is your name.”
“Huh, how do ya spell it?”
“J-u-d-a-i. Perhaps starting with the alphabet would be best.”
“That’d be nice.”
Asuka cracked her knuckles and began typing. They worked on the alphabet for the rest of the evening.

Before long it was dark out.
“Oh heavens, we should get to bed. Would you like to rest on the couch?” Asuka asked.
"You’re fine with that?”
“I hardly see why not. You are my employee.”
“Alright then, I’ll stay.”
“Magnifique! I shall get you a blanket.”
A bit later she came back with a blanket that had tassels on it looking quite embarrassed.
“Sorry, I-this was the only one I could find,” she said.
He tried to reassure her. “It’s fine, this is already nicer than usual. Don’t worry about it.”
“T-then I will leave it here. If you need anything I’m upstairs,” she left it on the couch and rushed upstairs. Closing the door behind herself, she sighed. She was being way too nice. Just a few days ago he stole from her; who was to say if he would try again? She smoothed her hair down and settled in for the night. All she could do was wait and see.

Judai hid his face in the blanket, finally able to feel warmth during the colder months. Never did he ever think that he would be on good-ish terms with someone he tried to steal from. The whole thing made no sense to him, but who was he to complain? He had shelter and free literacy classes! Maybe he misjudged her. He told himself he would be nicer.

Chapter Text

March 26

I was able to read the newspaper. Here talk about America joining the war is becoming louder. I fear for how bad it must be for them to join.

On my end I have been able to set up my firm and even have an employee. He has barely any experience nor can he read or write but he has a kind spirit and calm disposition: perfect when things seem so crazy for me. We start business very soon.

“You have gotten quite proficient!” Asuka clasped her hands together as she watched Judai practice. She had decided to let him stay with her, using the firm as justification, but deep down they both knew it was because she was too proud to admit she cared.
“Thanks to you forcing me to do this for hours,” he grumbled with a smile.
“Now you can say you can read and write. Have you been practicing on paper?”
He took out stacks of paper from underneath the desk. “Yes ma’am.”
“Fantastique!”
“Could you, if it’s not too much, also teach me French?”
“You want to learn French?”
He nodded, not looking at her.
“Alright, but if more work is what you want then so be it. We shall do it after work hours.”
“You mean we’re opening soon!”
She nodded her head. “That we are.”
Judai jumped in delight. “Finally!”
“Should I not be more excited?”
“Then why aren’t you? C’mon.”
Asuka rolled her eyes and did a small jump.
“Fine, that’s good enough.”
“Be grateful, it took quite a lot for the bar to let me start practicing.”
“Weren’t you a lawyer already?”
“Yes but apparently it was too outlandish for them,” she forced a smile. “But whatever, now we can start accepting clients. I wonder…”
“Wonder what?”
“Oh, nothing. How about you practice some more and I can teach you some basic phrases?”
“Sure,” he eyed her wearily.

Judai stood in the kitchen upstairs, washing the dishes from their lunch. Asuka was at the table going over his work and offering comments on where he could improve. There was something about her that bugged him. It was hard to place. Something seemed to always be on her mind. How she could still do so much was beyond him: it seemed like a pain.
“And here, what is it you are trying to say?” She said.
Judai dried the water off on his apron. He looked at what she was referring to. “Oh, I don’t like dogs.”
She made a few marks. “Then put these around ’like’, unless you would rather use ’hate’.”
“Nah, could never hate them.”
“Then what about cats?”
“Is this just your way of learning more about me?”
“Maybe? Je ne sais pas,” she smirked.
Judai huffed. “Since you’re asking me things, how about I ask you. What’s on your mind? You’re thinking about something, right?”
“It can hardly be called important.”
“It obviously means something to you. Does it have to do with those letters you write?”
“Have you been snooping on me!”
“I’m literally downstairs!”
Asuka smoothed her hair down. “They are just for my family.”
“Ain’t that still important? I don’t know a lot about the war but I do know France is involved,” he pulled a seat out next to her.
“They will be fine as long as they hold the line,” her gaze was distant. He patted her back.
“Sorry, I just wanted you to be honest with me. I didn’t mean ta-“
“No, I have just been worried sick about them.”
“Only natural,” he scratched his head. “You don’t have ta tell me everything: I barely know you.”
“That is similar to lots of people, you know.”
“Maybe then I can be the first.”
She gave a small smile. “Perhaps.”
“We can get back to working, if you’d like.”
“Sure.”

Once dinner came around they were back to idle chatter; the awkwardness of lunchtime seemed to have subsided for now. The day had been slow as they had not gotten any clients but Asuka was hardly worried. She chalked it up to being new and having done no marketing. Judai sighed, knowing that he would have to do a majority of such. Asuka excitedly placed a card in his hands.
“Okay, now look!”
It was similar to her old card but displayed Judai’s name in gold lettering and the number of the reception desk underneath.
“Now you have your own business cards! I also went through the liberty of printing mine in English,” she explained.
“Nice,” he ran his fingers over the card, entranced.
“I was thinking of starting some advertising. Now, you are not obligated to, but you can go out as well,” she smoothed down her skirt and put her hat on. Judai put the card in his pocket and stood up.
“No, I’ll come.”
Asuka smiled. “Then let us be off.”

Asuka looked through her wallet. “Think I have enough to run an ad in the paper?”
Judai looked it over. “Yeah, think so.”
“Which ones do you recommend?”
“Probably The Times and The Evening Post: they seem to have the best circulation.”
She took out a scrap piece of paper and started writing it down. “I shall keep that in mind.”
“Which one do you wanna start with?”
“Whichever is closest.”
Judai looked at where they were. “Then let’s head that away.”
Asuka nodded and hiked up her skirt to keep pace.

Outside, The New York Times looked like a hotel or very thin castle. It was tall with green, sloped roofs. Off-centre, the roof jutted upwards a final time before returning to the height of the rest of the building. One could only imagine what went on in there. Asuka took a breath in before putting on her most polite smile and entering. The inside was a mess of people mingling about, carrying stacks of papers, and talking loudly to each other. She weaved her way through the crowd towards the reception desk. The woman behind it looked up from her typewriter and smiled.
“How may I help you?” She asked.
“I was wondering if I could run an ad in your paper?” Asuka replied.
The woman looked at something behind the desk. A few papers flicked before she returned her gaze to her.
“I’m sorry. Seems all our ad spots are currently full.”
“Is there any way I can leave it here to be put into print once a spot opens up?”
“Suppose I could, but I can’t guarantee anything.”
Asuka nodded. “That would be fine. Thank you.”

Asuka sighed.
“No luck?” Judai asked.
She shook her head. “Seems they have enough ads.”
“Yeah, one of the downsides to being so well known. Why don’t we try out The Evening Times?”
“Would it not just be the same?”
He shrugged. “Can’t hurt and, hey, if they can’t either then we just broaden the search a bit. I know a tonne of newspapers.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. You didn’t hear this from me but I used to work as a newsie when I was younger.”
“Like, you sold newspapers?”
“Yup. Helped me get some money for food for a bit but then the whole strike thing happened and…just never did it again.”
Asuka counted on her hands. “Now hold on, you were hardly a child! And there is no way you are older than twenty five.”
He giggled. “I know, just wondering if you’d spot it. I did work for a newspaper though; I just didn’t like it.”
“Well then, I would say it did little in making you worldly,” she replied jokingly.
He pouted. “Hey, not cool. I worked for The New York World…”
“Then how ironic.”
“More than you think. That strike was in part because of its working conditions for newsies. But work is work.”
“I see. No, I understand better than you would think.”
“You’ve had other jobs? Ain’t it real hard to get one?”
“Only if you want to be more than a secretary or household tips columnist. But out in the country everyone does part of the work so it hardly matters. My father also knew a lawyer who was willing to let me apprentice under him.”
“That’s real lucky! But what about customers? You worried about them?” They stood off to the side of the sidewalk and continued chatting.
“Only a little, but if I can prove I’m a good lawyer then my skills will speak for themselves. Besides, women would be more willing to have a female lawyer, right?”
He thought for a moment. “Guess so. ‘Specially cause it can feel like a guys club if it involves, like, a husband.”
“Exactly! I was unaware you knew so much about this issue,” she smiled slightly.
He absentmindedly kicked a rock. “Not hard to guess how guys think.”
“Let us head off to the next newspaper now,” Asuka adjusted her hat and walked back onto the crowded streets. Judai followed behind with a “Yes, ma’am.”

Their trip to The Evening Times’ headquarters was for naught: they were closed for the day. Asuka slid down the building in exhaustion.
“Don’t do that, ground’s terribly dirty,” Judai took her wrists and helped pull her back up.
“I am beginning to feel doubtful, but more so I would just like to have a nap,” she replied.
“Then let’s get you home. I’ll take care of everythin’ for you.”
“Thank you. If anyone asks to see me, ask them to leave a note.”
“Will do.”
They walked back in silence, letting the defeat of the day linger in the air. They never mentioned it and they had no desire to.

The next day Judai tempted fate by asking Asuka about her plans now that the newspaper gambit failed. She looked up from the mail and scowled. He nodded with wide eyes and left the room. Apparently it was too early for either of them.

Chapter Text

April 1

While I was out around town I heard talk about something they called the ‘Zimmerman Telegram’. Apparently it was given over to the US by Britain late February and held German plans for getting rid of the US if they joined the war. Seems it really does all depend on if they join or not.

I am beginning to feel as if I should cease sending letters since things must be so terrible that letters are not being sent overseas. Another part of myself wants to continue, to dissuade my sense of dread. I implor you to write as soon as possible.

Paper slammed down on the dining table, waking Judai who was sleeping on the couch. He groggily sat up as Asuka apologized, not meaning for it to be that loud.
“What’re you doin’?” He asked.
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I have a bunch of paperwork to fill out, and I managed to find a client last night.”
He threw the blanket off himself. “Really? How?”
“What do you mean “how”? Do you not trust in my abilities?” She teased.
“I just thought no one wanted to advertise ya,” he replied.
“Because we were going to those big fancy newspapers. There’s also ones run by women for women.”
“The suffragette ones?”
She nodded.
“Well I’ll be. When do they come in?”
Asuka sat down at the table and began hurriedly writing. “If I can get this finished by tomorrow, then the day after tomorrow.”
“Can I help in anyway?”
“Only by continuing to practice. You can go back to sleep; I need to concentrate anyways.”
He laid back down and covered his face with a blanket. “Alrigh’, but wake me if you’re going anywhere.”
“Course.”

Asuka continued to write for many hours before deciding to take a break. She stretched her aching back and cracked her knuckles. Next to the stove, across from her, the clock read 12:37 P.M. and, on the couch, Judai was no longer present. She sprang up and began looking around the loft, searching for him or a note. She found one next to herself. While she was concentrated on work, he got up to fetch them lunch and would be back soon. The ink was still wet meaning he could hardly have been gone for long. She collapsed onto the couch with a sigh. After a while of staring at the ceiling she began to wonder if her mother had replied to her letters; maybe one would be in her mailbox finally. She fixed her blouse and put on a coat, deciding to leave her hat behind—it would be a short trip after all—she went downstairs. Strangely there was someone present at her door, looking around as if lost. The bell chimed as she opened it to great them.
“Good day. Do you need help with something?” She asked. The woman jumped and started fidgeting with her hands.
“A-are you Miss. Richelieu?” She asked, her voice high and quiet.
“Yes, I am.”
“I answered your ad earlier.”
“Oh, Mme. Deveneau. Why did you come so soon? I’m not done my paperwork.”
“I came because things have taken a turn for the worse I fear. My husband…dislikes my involvement with the suffragettes.”
“Has he done anything?”
She nodded. “I’m living with my family now. They’ve been so upset about the whole thing, they told me to find a lawyer but, well, you know.”
“Yes. I promise you I will get the paperwork in order as soon as possible. Please come back around in a day or two.”
“And what of my husband?”
“Remain with your family and if you go outside bring someone with you, preferably your father or any brothers you may have.”
“Alright, thank you. I must be going,” she hitched up her skirt and ran down the street, tripping over the rocks that littered it. Asuka’s mouth formed into a hard line. Her walk to the mailbox was filled with worrying thoughts and all she could do was try to ignore them. Part of her was doubtful of finding anything in her mailbox but to her surprise there something was. She turned it over to read the label. This was it! Just as she was giving up hope her mother’s letter finally made it. The event, however, was dampened by her interaction with Mme. Deveneau. How awful she must be feeling, how afraid she must be. Would life ever get better for her? The only way it could, that she could think of, was for either her or her husband to relocate to another city but that would be unfair if it was Mme. Deveneau who did so. Asuka shook her head. She was unable to do much except make sure she finished the paperwork. Rummaging around for his key in front of her building was Judai with a bag in hand.
“Afternoon Monsieur. What brings you around here?” She called.
He held up the bag triumphantly. “Le déjeuner, Mademoiselle!”
“Not bad, city slicker.”
“Thanks, missy. What’re you doing outside?”
She took his key form him and opened the door. “Went to check the mail.”
“And, is that it?” He gestured towards the letter in her hand.
“It’s it!”
“Looks like I have some good timin’. Well, hurry up and open it.”
“Not here, I shall do it upstairs.”
“Alrigh’. Here’s your change by the way,” he handed her some coins and a bill, exchanging them for his key.
“Glad they were willing to offer you service,” she stashed them away in her pocket along with the letter. They made their way upstairs, continuing to talk as they did so.
“I got a shirt and shoes on, don’t I?”
She laughed. “Good point. You took nothing else from my wallet, right?”
“You can check yourself, if you’d like,” he took off his shoes and placed them at the door.
She picked up her wallet from the countertop next to the fridge and started flipping through it.
“You must have one photographic memory, miss, if you can remember everything in your wallet,” he leaned against the couch with a smirk.
“I also put a list here on the fridge but, oh, I should have kept that a secret.”
“That’s what that was? I thought it was a grocery list.”
“I see you are buying by weight to get the exact price,” she quipped.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon. Cut me some slack.”
“Alright, but only because you brought lunch,” she finished counting and joined him at the coffee table. “What did you get?”
“Sandwiches. Hope you don’t mind but I got you my favourite,” he handed her a ham and cheese sandwich.
“Oh, I’m fine with that,” she accepted it. They ate in silence, concentrated on eating.
“So, how’s it?” Judai asked.
She covered her mouth and swallowed. “Good, very good.”
He smiled. “Glad to hear it. Now, hurry an’ open that letter. You’ve been waiting months!”
“Alright, alright. Again, you seem more excited than I am,” she placed her sandwich down and tore open the envelope. Taking the paper out she read the message dated a month before. It was sloppy and uneven, drops of ink scattered the page. Her brows furrowed as she read it.
“It’s as I feared,” she said plainly after reading it.
“What is?”
“My father and brother are fighting and my mother is still at home, working for the war effort.”
There was silence for a moment.
“And, are you alright?” Judai asked, his voice soft.
She folded the letter as she shook her head. “I-I need a moment,” tears threatened to fill her eyes.
He stood, walking into the kitchen to offer her a bit of privacy. He had seen grief before, on the streets it was everywhere and never pretty. He would never say he was good at dealing with it, but he would do whatever he could to help her save face. Proud people were like that: never wanting to be seen as weak. She doubly could not as a woman. Always working so hard for no recognition, he saw that the first time they met.

Chapter Text

April 6

The time has come, I fear. The US has officially declared war on the German Empire and is now rallying troops together to send to Europe. Part of me is hopeful that the Western Front will now be alleviated from some stress but I worry as to how long and how many more will die for this conflict. The employee I mentioned in another letter will most likely be drafted and having to pray for another soul will break me. But I could not dare to do the alternative…

May 18

My employee has just arrived to tell me the bad news: conscription has been implemented for men between eighteen and thirty years. What we will do, I’m unsure.

After their meeting outside her building, Asuka finished her paperwork in record time and immediately began helping Mme. Deveneau. They had been making steady progress the past month. Conscription provided Mme. Deveneau with hope as she became sure leaving her husband would now be easier. Asuka could make no promises though. Mme. Deveneau left her office smiling, giving her a cheery goodbye. Asuka remained seated, contemplating what she should do. For a month now the US had been at war against the German Empire without any progress nor the land troops needed to defeat such a power. She looked at the qualifications and each time she was met with dread: Judai would have to register. The truth of the matter was that he had no dependents. Now if he had siblings or a family then he most likely would be passed over for the draft but life could never be simple, could it? They agreed to keep him inside as much as possible and the blinds closed upstairs to lessen the chances of him being seen. For the time she would have to be both receptionist and lawyer: finding someone for the job would be significantly harder. A knock came from her door.
“Hey, you okay, missy?” Judai asked.
She opened the door. “Yes, sorry. I was just thinking about something.”
“You’ve been doin’ that a lot lately,” before he would say that in a joking way, now he was serious.
“It’s hardly anything. I have a case to work on, remember?” She closed the door behind her and started upstairs with Judai following closely behind. The concern was evident on his face and her effort to hide her worry must not have been much better.
“I promise everything is fine. Things are just-“ she sighed, “war time is never fun. I would rather not see anyone else go. My father and brother…that is enough.”
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I’m gonna do everythin’ I can ta stay here.”
She smiled slightly.
“But, you should really take a bath,” he deadpanned.
“Okay, okay,” she dragged her feet down the hall.
He smiled. They never officially decided who was in charge of chores on what days or in general, but Judai took it upon himself to do them. She never said anything about it so, there he went cleaning the dishes, dusting the place, and doing all of the laundry. Having little clothes between them made everything possible to finish in a day or so. If anyone knew of their situation, the outrage it would cause! Midway through his cleaning Asuka came back from the washroom. She had a towel resting around her neck, and her hair was combed and wet. She had changed into a sweater and skirt to better match with how cold the apartment was now.
“You have really gotten better,” she commented.
“Finally to your standards, princess?” He asked jokingly.
“Yes, I think so. Fantastic job!”
He stopped her before she left. “Hey, uh, do ya want ta have a proper dinner?”
She thought for a moment. “Do you?”
“I mean, sorta. I’d like ta try it out,” he scratched his neck.
“Then I will pick something up. Any suggestions?”
“Make something you like. Then we’ll be even.”
“Then it’s done. I will go out closer to dinner,” she sat on the couch and began reading through a novel. Judai tried to continue cleaning but, now that he knew how to read, he wanted to see if he could read a whole book. He leaned over her shoulder and Asuka adjusted her grip so he could see.
“If you would like, you can sit on the couch instead,” she offered.
“Nah, I like standing. Could ya catch me up to speed?”
“So curious lately,” she giggled. “Would you like to read it yourself?” She handed it to him.
“But aren’t ya readin’ it?”
“I already have before. I think you would like this one.”
He took the book from her and felt the fine details. The hardcover was decorated with floral flourishes and smooth, thick paper that smelt like vanilla. He would cherish it.
“Well, uh, thanks.”
“Maybe I should look into getting you something to do while you are here all day,” she thought for a moment. “I suppose I could get you more books. Oh! And maybe some paper; you could write. I could also teach you to cook so you can feed yourself while I’m away or whenever you want,” she clasped her hands together.
“That all sounds nice, missy.”
She stood up. “Then I shall get right on it! Are you curious about anything?”
He thought about it. “Maybe stuffs that’s not real? Other than that dealer’s choice.”
“I cannot wait to force you to read all my favourites!” She pulled her hat on with a smile. “I will get you some new ones, you may read the ones in here at your leisure,” and with that she left the apartment.

What seemed like hours passed. If Asuka picked books this good then damn! he was impressed. Sure, this was the first book he had ever read but he liked it. A lot. He spread himself across the couch in such a way that, if someone were to walk in on him, they would describe it as uncomfortable and backbreaking. The doorknob jiggled and he sprung up: her hands were probably full. Unlocking the door, it flew open with a force that threw him off balance. There were a handful of men, here for a slacker raid of the entire block. They seemed dishevelled and slightly surprised they had actually found one. However, after regaining his balance, Judai had already made it to the window and was about to exit through the external stairs to the sidewalk below. The men gathered their bearings and chased after him, trying to grab him by the collar. Spurred on by adrenaline, Judai dashed down the stairs and ran to find somewhere to hide.

Asuka arrived home to find the door ajar. She entered cautiously, finding a few things scattered around the place with only one thing missing: Judai. Her smile disappeared and the bags in her hands fell to the ground.

Chapter Text

May 19

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Asuka yawned. Last night she had spent the rest of the evening looking for Judai, forgoing dinner and only returning home once it was curfew. Where he had gone? Not somewhere in a 5 block radius. Currently she was filing a report. Breaking into people’s houses was a new low and the vigilantes were already at rock bottom. She wanted to leave as soon as possible, continue looking, but as always bureaucracy was agonizingly slow. All the while she had to listen to the chatter of everyone in the station. She hurried through and soon it was over: the longest 15 minutes of her life. She thanked the receptionist and hurried out.

The warm air hit her face. She had almost forgotten how hot it was while inside the station (it was hardly cold but it felt less humid). She fanned her face with her hand as she walked along the street. Usually her and Judai would be chatting about anything really, making her forget how far away her apartment may be. The trip flying by in a flash. Now it was quiet and she was painfully aware of how sore she was.

She slid her key into the lock and sighed as she slid down the door, now inside. She curled up, clutching her knees. She had no idea how much time passed, only moving from her spot to grab something to eat. She would not let food go to waste and maybe he would return. Did she even want him to? Would it not be safer if he hid until this all blew over? She wanted him to be safe but it was impossible to ignore the gnawing sensation within her, a longing. Being alone now of all times made her almost want to laugh at her bad luck. She ate her meal and decided to go to bed. Not like she had anything to do.

The next day was much of the same, filling out paperwork and looking around town when she could. It was on this second day of searching that she encountered an odd occurrence: a letter taped to her mailbox with no return address and her name scribbled on it in a hurry. She returned to the kitchen with it. It felt familiar. She laughed, tears streaming down her face. It was his writing, the very same as all the work he had done months prior. She wiped her eyes. Now she knew he was still around. Tearing it open, the letter contained a rushed assurance that he was still in town and was just hiding until he felt it safe enough to return. Written in faint print was a little note to meet him in an alley nearby on Wednesday. To close it off was a little smiley face and, in poor French, ‘can’t wait for your meal’. She tucked the letter into her briefcase, neatly folding her clothes and placing them on top of it. She had more than enough time to prepare exactly how she would greet him.

Chapter Text

May 23

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Every day since the letter arrived she thought about what she would say, what she would wear. Though at first she was confident she would figure it out quickly, she became discouraged by how daunting the task really was. Thankfully Mme. Deveneau’s case had closed with things ending peacefully for her—they even kept in touch and became better acquainted—which allowed Aauka to be more attentive with her current conundrum. She pondered if she should ask Mme. Deveneau about it. Maybe she could provide insight, but each time she dismissed the thought, not wanting to bother her.
“Darling, is something bothering you?” Mme. Deveneau asked one day over tea. They were at a small café, sitting outside under an umbrella and enjoying the day's sun.
Asuka was unsure of how to respond. “Fine, I suppose.”
“I know it must not be easy being all by yourself.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that I’m worried about.”
Mme. Deveneau placed her teacup down. “Then what is?”
Asuka sighed. “You see, I had this employee. He unfortunately had to be conscripted.”
“And, are you worried about him?”
“Of course. Having to find a replacement would be annoying,” she looked into her own cup of tea.
Mme. Deveneau laughed. “I know I wouldn’t be a good substitute but I could fill in for him until he’s back.”
“No, that would be much appreciated.”
“Swamped, huh?”
“Yes, very,” Asuka chuckled.
“Then I’ll start right away,” Mme. Deveneau took a sip of her tea.
“On Wednesday, you can stay home. I’m busy that day.”
“Of course. I will still come over for tea, however.”
“Bu-“
Mme. Deveneau raised a finger to her mouth. “No buts. You need someone to check in on you. If I had not grabbed you this morning you would have spent all day inside, missing this wonderful weather.”
Asuka mumbled a retort back. Even if it was true, she would never admit it. Mme. Deveneau pulled her silver pocket watch out from her vest pocket.
“Looks like I have to run along. I’ll see you later, darling,” she placed a few coins on the table and left.

Today Asuka did her best to dress comfortably. Running around in heels was probably unwise. She figured the best time to go would be later in the evening as more people went home for the day; the dark also provided a good enough cover for them. She put on her worn overcoat, careful not to disturb the loose stitches.

There was a light breeze that evening, a welcomed change from the humid weather of the day, and she took a deep breath. The once untraceable streets now were now as familiar as France along with the people, who gave a nod or tipped their hats. It was comforting to see some people regard her as part of the city. She pulled out a small hand mirror and checked to see if anyone was paying her mind. Once confident, she swung down an alley and navigated her way to the meeting spot. She waited along the wall, careful to not touch it, until the sun slipped behind the skyline. A knock came from her left. To her delight it was him, it was Judai. She barely had time to react before he began apologizing profusely.
“Judai, Judai, it’s alright,” she said. “It’s alright.”
“Sorry I couldn’t get a sooner date: was thinkin’ about how I’d even do it,” he replied.
“And you did it. How have you been? I brought some bread,” she pulled it out of her jacket. Disgusting, she knew.
“Thanks,” he readily accepted it. Wiping it off his face he continued. “I just wanted to let you know I was safe ‘cause-“
“Because you were unsure when you would be back?” Asuka finished. “I figured. Who knows when this war will end? But, it’s alright. When everything does settle you can come right back to being my receptionist, my…friend,” she had to admit it, even if her brain was screaming at her about how cheesy it was.
He scratched his cheek. “Gee."
He chuckled. “Then we'll do a rain check on dinner? I promise I’ll be there.”
“You better. No running from my cooking, okay?”
She meant for it to be more stern but could not contain her laughter.
She embraced him, clinging to him like he was a lifeline. Anything to make the moment last longer. For her to see him longer. The grime of the city stuck to him like a vice and his hair, messy and unkempt, tickled her forehead. She made a silent vow to pamper him once he could return back to her apartment. Then she would thank him for all his work and for keeping her company, and maybe she would ask more about him: learn his favourite places to go, what the city was like before she came, the people he knew.

Then, before she knew it, she was back in her empty apartment, curled up on the floor, quietly mourning the loss again.

Chapter Text

May 30

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Mme. Deveneau was true to her word, helping with paperwork whenever she could, and sharing information on the war, or on the suffragette movement, as she did. It was the only way Asuka kept up with the news anymore, but she wished she could say she kept up with everything Mme. Deveneau said; the immense stress added to her poor memory. And perhaps it was just her imagination—paranoia brought on by the times—but she felt like someone was watching her. Did they know? She was unsure if that even mattered. All she hoped was that everyone would have enough with the fighting, and let life return to how it was. A knock came from her door. Mme. Deveneau, or rather Jeanne, came to see if she was up, or maybe she had a question.
“Yes?” Asuka asked, finishing buttoning up her yellow blouse. She hoped the colour would help everything feel normal. Jeanne opened the door.
“Just wanted to know how you take your tea. One or two?”
“Just one, please.”
“Love the blouse by the way.”
Asuka fidgeted with the sleeve of it as she smiled. “Thank you.”
“Oh, some dry cleaning’s done for you.”
“But I didn’t-“
“I know, just thought you needed it.”
Asuka shook her head. “You think of everything.”
“And I also think I have another job for you.”
“Lawyer related, right?”
“Course. Our newspaper needs a legal representative.”
“But…can you even afford the fee?”
She scoffed as she leaned against the door frame.
“I think you’ll find we’re a very popular paper. If there’s anything women can agree on it's that our fathers, brothers, sons, and husbands should be here at home, and not dying overseas.”
Asuka smiled as she laughed nervously. “That is a very good point.”
“I’ll take you ‘round the office to fill out the paperwork,” Jeanne slapped the doorframe before walking downstairs.
“W-why did she do that?” Asuka muttered.

Asuka placed a few coins on the counter.
“Thank you. I know this many was probably annoying,” she said to the clerk behind the desk.
“Just the job, ma’am. The more the better for me.”
“I see,” paid by commission then. Hopefully the contract was proper…and she was thinking of work again. The pains of being married to one’s job.
“Have a good day.”
“You as well, monsieur.”
The door chimed as it closed behind her. Now that she was getting out more again, she began to notice little things about the city that she glanced over months ago: the people who hid in the alleys, the shops without signs, or that needed a password from someone who worked there, the names etched into the bricks of the buildings. The pamphlets had made it look glamorous, but that stripped the city of its charm. She much preferred—no matter how dirty—the way the city was. Perhaps it was the rose-coloured view of home, or the joy of friends that made her feel thus, but it made no difference to her. It was also during these walks that she began to think of things she should get Judai. No doubt he would need a good meal, but maybe it was time he got a new coat—or a new outfit in general—before it became a quilt. She turned towards the fabric store.

Choosing a fabric, why was it so complicated? There was no need for all these fabrics. Honestly. Depending on how long the war lasted, Judai would need warmer clothes. What did he do his entire life then, when he was homeless? There was so much she was ignorant of, and never felt comfortable asking. Maybe she would the next time she saw him. Whenever he sent a letter next.
“Do you need any help, ma’am?” This store clerk was older with deep wrinkles in her hands and cheeks.
“Just looking for warm fabric. Do you know where that is?” Asuka asked.
The clerk thought for a moment.
“Should be just over there next to the threads.”
“Okay, thank you.”
The section seemed like it had not been restocked—or even glanced at—in months, like a neglected child. The colours, though, were surprisingly good when they had no reason to be. It was astonishing. Though she never asked, she had a feeling red would be most suitable for Judai. No surprise as he wore it in almost every aspect: his vest, jacket, and even trousers. She rubbed some fabrics between her thumb and forefinger. Which one she should pick was obvious by their thicknesses, which varied. Finally, she found one that worked; it just took hours—and panicking out of view of the staff—to find it.
“Is that everything?” The clerk asked as she rang her up.
“Yes, thank you,” Asuka replied.
“What’s your reason for starting so soon?”
“Oh, well, I’m a slow seamstress. Might as well, right?”
“Might as well. Have a good day, ma’am,” she handed her a bag.

“There she is! Ready to go?” Jeanne asked.
“Just need to drop these off in my room.”
“Then get going! I’ll be waiting outside.”
“Okay.”
Jeanne smiled at her as the door closed. Were her colleagues the same as her? And, if they were, how worried should she be? She really did appreciate Jeanne for everything she had done—and probably will do—but she could only handle one of her. Jeanne and Judai meeting, what would that be like? She had thought they would get along, but maybe life would surprise her once again: like it had when she first arrived.

“So…” Asuka began once they were on their way, “everyone nice?”
“Absolutely, and super friendly!” Jeanne replied. “Lovely day for some business, don’t you agree?”
“Sure, as lovely as a day like that can be.”
Jeanne laughed. “Is that uptightness the lawyer, or Asuka in you?”
“I think I’m a lawyer because I am uptight,” she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Ah, a horse before the cart then, like fate.”
“Tha-that makes little to no sense.”
“You still got it.”
Asuka sighed, wishing she could wipe the smug look off her face. Oh, they would get along all right.

Chapter Text

May 30

Guess I should keep this up…

Living next to garbage had its advantages: like being the last place anyone would want to go to find you. Anything to get them off your back, right? No way was he gonna die somewhere when he could be chillin’ on a couch, finally having somewhere to live for once in his life. Seemed like whenever things were going good, the universe just had to pull the rug out from under him. At least his old buddies were still around. At least Asuka seemed to be doing OK. Maybe. It was hard to tell in the dim light.
“Didn’t go well?” Sho sat next to him, wrapping him in a light blanket to protect against the breeze. The abandoned building they were staying in wouldn’t be known for its cozy walls.
Judai shook his head.
“Went fine enough, I think,” he sighed. “Just wish I could’ve stayed.”
“It sounded nice.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he took a breath in through his nose, instantly regretting it. “She’s got some stuff goin’ on and could use someone to check in on ‘er.”
“You could always write more.”
Judai raised a brow.
“Not saying you have to do it alone! We could all help.”
“I bet you could pass for a newsboy,” Judai chuckled.
“Exactly, it’s duck soup,” he crossed his arms in triumph.
Sure, fine, he’d give him this one.
“If you think so, then fine. No complaining though.”
“I won’t,” Sho pouted. “But once you go back you better visit.”
“I really left you guys wonderin’, huh?”
Sho leaned his head against his shoulder and mumbled an agreement.
“I think next time I’ll just introduce ya.”
“Good.”
Judai ruffled his hair with a smile. “G’night, Sho.”
“Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t,” he leaned his head back and looked towards the sky painted with its purple hues through the holes in the ceiling. Another long day he was too ragged to live through.

There was a point in life when people began to care about the differences between themselves and others. A point where they felt ashamed for not being, or having, what they were told they should have. A point when they wished more than anything to change, but it didn’t happen. No more could a pauper be a princess, a homeless man a business tycoon. Cold winter nights lead to sleepless days, and poor hygiene lead to no work. So, people travelled. They would get on a train and wander to wherever it took them, and hoped it was to a town, or city, with open positions and low standards. Sometimes they would luck out, often they got back on the train and did it all over again. Like he had many, many times. He had countless weeks of exhaustion and desperation, but nothing stung worse than false hope as the cliff crumbled beneath him.

He tried working hard and was looking for a job, but he couldn’t make things that didn’t exist appear. They didn’t make jobs for people to live; they made them when they needed someone to do a job too tedious for themselves. The government had never given ‘handouts’ before, and it wasn’t like they were going to start now, so no luck there. Then, when he had finally reached the top—fulfilled all their stupid requirements—the US joined a war not even happening on their soil. It was so far removed that they could have remained neutral, but some ship got destroyed and a telegram was intercepted by the British, so now they had to fight. There went the job search because now he had to dodge the draft for however many years the war dragged on. If it was cowardly to avoid a conflict that would ruin his life, then a coward he would be.

Despite appearing to know New York City like the back of his hand, it was more a brief outline hurriedly scribbled on the back of a napkin while calling someone than the City’s blueprints. In truth, he remained where they camped most of the day and let Sho go out and handle everything. Judai was more likely to be discovered. He left occasionally, mostly to stretch his legs, or to write. Something about the open sky urged him to write, maybe it was the Romanticism of it. Other than that, he didn’t do much.

Being in that small, crumbling room, its air filled with mould, felt strange. Perhaps it was because he had seen how good it could be. He saw what they were missing out on, and felt their present living conditions were an injustice. Maybe some would call it entitlement, but man was not made to huddle in stuffy rooms for the rest of his life. Once the war was over—and he had the courage—perhaps he would speak with Asuka about it. She seemed to have a plan for everything: food, décor, work. Her days were planned out to the T with goals she wanted to accomplish. Maybe they could figure something out. The war couldn’t go on forever; she told him it had already been three years. But…was she upset with him? For leaving, for being a coward, for not joining the military as her family fought in it? She had looked so happy to see him, but was that because he was safe? He, frankly, felt like a loser. He felt selfish and stupid, but didn’t know what to do. Maybe the fighting would stop sooner if he got off his ass and bit the bullet. He sighed. He was too tired to be thinking without it spiralling into negative, unproductive thoughts. He would think about it properly later.

She was unsure what she expected to be happening when Jeanne opened the door, but she knew it was not the sheer volume of activity that exuded from every person typing, running, and calling out reminders. She stood there at the front stupefied, unable to process everything happening around her. It was loud, stuffy, absolutely chaotic, and she loved it. A dumb grin spread across her face.
“Like it already, hey?” Jeanne chuckled.
“Maybe just a little,” Asuka replied, scratching her neck.
Jeanne cleared her throat. “Hey, everyone! We have a visitor.”
The office turned towards her and gave some form of hello before going right back to work.
“Are you always busy?” Asuka asked.
Jeanne sighed. “Constantly. We have to keep momentum otherwise the whole thing will peter out.”
“There’s a lack of interest?” She asked as she was led to the offices. The hallway was cramped with filing cabinets lining the walls and a few paintings, but overall had little in way of decoration.
“Not every woman cares about emancipation, or has access to these kinds of newspapers. It’s complicated.”
“The way you talked about it, it seemed like everyone would be jumping at the chance.”
“You’ll never have everyone agreeing about something in a democracy.”
“Right, I guess that is not a prerequisite,” Asuka chuckled.
Jeanne stopped in front of one of the offices. Its plaque displayed the title ‘Editor’ and shined so brightly she thought there must have been light coming in from a window. Conveniently, it was situated at the end of the hall.
“Well, here we are!” She chirped.
“How worried should I be?” Asuka asked.
Jeanne shrugged. “Maybe you don’t have to be. They’re lively and friendly.”
“Do you think I would instead find them annoying?”
“There’s a high chance I think,” she opened the door with a twist of the knob.

Scattered around the room were plants. Along a wall were photos of—presumably—everyone in the office and the two people who were conversing before her.
“Did I come at a bad time?” Jeanne asked.
They looked up. The brunette shook her head.
“Not at all. Is this the lawyer?”
Asuka reached out her hand. “Alexis Richelieu. Nice to meet you.”
She accepted the handshake as a grin plastered itself across the noirette girl’s face. “I’m Jasmine, and this is Mindy.”
On cue, Mindy lunged to take Asuka’s hand. “Nice to meet you!”
“She’s my partner. We run the paper,” Jasmine said.
“Have a seat! Would you like anything?” Mindy offered.
Asuka smoothed her skirt out as she sat down. “No, thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss business.”
“Of course. Jeanne, you can return to your work,” Jasmine said.
Jeanne nodded and left.
“So, what are you curious about?”
“I would like to know what you will need me for. What sort of work would I be doing?” Asuka asked.
“Oh, all the usual things: making sure we don’t get sued, keeping the mob off our back, you know.”
Asuka laughed. “Yeah…”
“It’s not easy being so outspoken, but we all think it’ll pay off in the end!” Mindy added. “Which is also why we totally get it if you’d rather not deal with all of that.”
“I do think it is a lovely offer considering the times, but I have to think it over,” Asuka replied. She would hate to commit only to find out she would be unable to follow through with it.
“Of course! You can visit anytime, and we’ll leave the offer open,” Mindy grinned.
“Thank you,” Asuka stood and shook their hands again.

Stepping back outside, Asuka let out a sigh. She tugged at her collar; it was getting humid in there, or maybe she was just nervous. No matter how casual it was, she detested job interviews. Jeanne followed her out with a smile.
“Did it not go well?” She asked.
Asuka shook her head. “No, it was fine. They are very nice.”
“Then?”
“I gave them a maybe is all. I feel guilty…”
“Want to get some tea? Maybe it will take your mind off it?”
Asuka smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

They found a table outside and ordered their drinks. Asuka took the time to watch passersby as she waited, thinking about all the places they could be going. Part of her job was learning about a specific moment in someone’s life and oftentimes it was the worst. To take a moment to step outside her mind and experience people going about their day was novel to her. It reminded her that all she could do was help one person with one problem. The real, ever present problems were ones that could never be solved by fixing one thing because it was a tangled mess that could–if unraveled improperly–negatively impact another issue. There were no easy answers, only half-answers and people trying to live their lives. It was something she was never aware of until she arrived. She believed there to be bad, evil people who wanted more than anything to harm others–and they certainly did exist–but more commonly there were just people who did what they had to to survive because everyone just wanted to live. They wanted to bask in the sun and laugh with their loved ones, and they would do anything to hold onto that. It was this realization that pushed her to hire Judai, to take a chance, because part of her wanted to see if it were true. This raised for her an interesting dilemma: would she still believe this if things happened differently? If he had rejected her offer, if he had gone on to steal from more people, if they never got acquainted, would she write him off as a bad person even if he was still the same as she knew him now? How could she ever know?

The waiter brought over their cups. Asuka stirred it, still lost in thought.
“Still thinking about it?” Jeanne asked.
Asuka shook her head. “No, something else.”
“I don’t think I could handle so many thoughts,” she laughed.
Asuka smiled. “So–other than the newspaper–what are you doing?”
Jeanne gazed into her cup. “Mostly helping you and them out. Eventually, I want to start meeting new people.”
“Bonne chance.”
“Thank you. I'm absolutely terrified; I never want what happened last time to happen again.”
Asuka placed a hand on hers. Jeanne smiled again and her eyes crinkled.
“What about you? When the war is over, I know you will hire that boy again, but do you have any other plans?”
“Before this all happened, we were going to have a dinner. This time, I want to make it the most elaborate and grand dinner I can think of and invite everyone I know.”
“That sounds lovely! Glad to hear you will not be a shut-in.”
“As if I never go out for errands. Is it not normal for a woman to stay inside?”
“And I can’t stand it. Don’t you ever feel stir crazy?”
Asuka chuckled. “Maybe sometimes.”

She took out her mail key and grabbed it; it was all the usual newspapers and bill reminders, but buried in the back was a folded piece of paper. She gave Jeanne a smile.
“Thank you for the job offer.”
“Of course. Let me know what you decide,” she replied.
“Will you be in tomorrow?”
“Yes, get some rest.”
Asuka laughed. “Alright. Bonne soirée.”
She closed the door and scrambled up into the living room, kicking off her shoes.

Chapter Text

She had only received the letter from almost two months ago. It was strange to see one from her mother that had no envelope; on one side was the mailing details, and the other was its contents. The writing was as blotched as the first and replied to some of her other letters with advice. Asuka appreciated the gesture; she would be content if she never received a reply. Their lives were so hectic now. Even she had stopped writing as frequently, keeping that to once per week or once bi-weekly. She folded the letter and put it next to her lists near the fridge–she was forming quite the collection.

What to do about the newspaper? She pondered it as she paced around her living room. It could be a steady job, but she had never worked with another business before. How could she be qualified? She had learned corporate law before, but that was specific to France. America was a different beast. She sighed, laying across the couch. How could she complain? A new job placed itself right in front of her and she was going to reject it? She had to adjust and acclimated to many more things after her move–and even now–that having to reference American law would hardly be any more taxing. She would pull out the books tomorrow as well as visit the newspaper again to accept before she could talk herself out of it. The entire day felt like it had lasted months and completely zapped her of energy. At least now she could finally sleep and put it all behind her.

She woke early the next day. She had tossed and turned most of the night, woke up at odd hours and rolled over to hide under the blankets. Lying next to the dresser were the law books she abandoned, a reminder of her taxing exams. She brushed up on them for the bar and then ignored them as much as possible, taking them out to refresh her memory on a law or case here and there. This fact was reflected in their nearly pristine condition—one step below still being wrapped. Now she dared to venture into another section that she could foretell would be the reason she went bald and lost faith in humanity. Hauling them through the living room, she figured it would be best to make some breakfast before she got too occupied. She could also use it against Jeanne if she was annoyed at her working. Nothing too complicated, just some toast and tea. She was glad she did so as the task became less and less attractive as the hours dragged on. It was dragging on so much that she put it away and instead made her way to the newspaper. In the end, annoyance overtook her.

It seemed that every time she walked around town, she noticed something new. Posters abound the streets singing the praises of the troops and democracy. It was all so happy and joyful, like they were Europe’s saviors. That might very well be true and she knew her family and friends would be eternally grateful, but something felt off. Near the side of the street was a newspaper stand. She gave the newsboy his due and flipped through. It spouted the same virtues as the posters. There were no hints of apprehension despite how downbeat everyone seemed about it. Now she knew what was off: details were missing. She only knew this because of her mother’s latest letter mentioning the abundance of soldiers winding up with her father for injuries or amputations. It was abysmal on the lines–front or otherwise. Disease and death was abundant while the country was painting the whole thing with bright colours and floral print. It was propaganda: plain and simple. And there was nothing she could do about it. She was unsure whether she wanted to. If it encouraged people to continue supporting the troops, then what harm could it cause? It was incapable of causing harm, surely. Right? Right.
“Missus, everything alright?”
Asuka jerked her head towards the voice; it was one of the newsboys.
“O-oh, yes. Sorry.”
“Something bad in the paper or-”
She shook her head. “No, just getting lost in thought. Sorry.”
He smiled. “Then maybe this’ll cheer you up!”
From his pocket, he pulled out a few papers and handed them to her. She started flipping through them at a loss for words. It was in Judai’s writing.
“H-how did you get this? How did you know to give this to me?”
“‘Cause he’s my best friend. Simple enough.”
She nodded and gave a polite smile. “Thank you.”
Not knowing what to say next, she excused herself. She had to remain focused on her other tasks for a bit longer then she would scream into her pillow once she got home. And also read through the papers…yeah.

“Alexis, I didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” Jasmine said. She was talking with a colleague about an upcoming article they were having difficulty writing.
“Y-yes, sorry if I’m interrupting,” she replied
“It’s alright,” she turned around. “Mindy, could you take over for me!”
Mindy popped her head out from the hall and skipped over to them. “Sure thing!”
“Let’s go to my office.”
Asuka nodded.

Jasmine pulled out a tea set and offered her some.
“Oh, thank you,” Asuka said.
Jasmine sat down. “So, have you made a decision?”
“Yes, I have. I accept your offer and would be happy to work here.”
“That’s great to hear!”
She shuffled around underneath the desk, looking for the papers and information Asuka would need for the job.
“Sorry, it’s a bit much. A lot of people have grievances about our newspaper, and we also have a backlog of things we haven’t published over legal concerns” she pulled two stacks onto the desk. “The expectations, and anything you may need to know are also in here.”
“I see, thank you. Is there any deadline or–?”
“Some articles have them, so they stay more recent, but I’ve left those with other staff. They’ll get to you and you just need to provide notes. Everything else is to be done when it gets done. Oh, and everything must be completed in the office and cannot be taken home with you.”
“Understood. Do I start today?”
“We’ll have to set you up with an office first. We’ll keep in touch, and tell you when you can come in.”
“OK. Thanks again,” she shook her hand.

She took a deep breath outside. The sheer thought of tackling the mountainous stacks of paper Jasmine had shown her stripped her of any meager happiness and relief she still clinged to. Or maybe that was too dramatic. She really just wanted a hot bath.
“Hiya, missus. Back from your errands?” It was the newsboy again.
She sighed. “Yes.”
“Tough day?”
“I’m just tired is all. Thank you again for the papers.”
He smiled. “I took more than just letters.”
“What does that mean?” She crossed her arms.
He snickered, lowering his voice. “He wrote poetry.”
She shook her head. “I should never have given him all that paper.”
“Better he’s doing that than complaining.”
She giggled. “Is there anything I can get you guys?”
“O-oh, that’s OK,” he waved his hands in front of himself.
“Think nothing of it. Wait here, I will get you some food,” Asuka hitched up her skirt.

She returned and handed him a paper bag.
“It’s not much, but I hope you enjoy it,” she said, bent over from exerting herself.
He stared at the bag, furrowing his brow. “You were serious?”
“Yes? Why would I lie?”
He pulled down his newsboy cap and bowed. “Thank you,” his voice shook.
“De rien…”

Seeing nothing and hearing even less, she found her way to her apartment through memory. She closed her door and stood there, hand still on the door knob. From where she was, she could see into her office and the rolls of fabric that overtook its desk and floor. She walked towards it, and picked up the sewing needle.

Jeanne arrived at Asuka’s apartment for the day expecting to see her reading a book or looking through her mail. However, she found her hunched over her desk, squinting, and trying to avoid pricking her finger. Jeanne put her bag down and walked over to her, chuckling.
“What mess have you got yourself in this time?”
Asuka remained focused on her work.
“No mess, this is necessary.”
Jeanne shook her head. “Alright, would you like some tea with that necessary work?”
She nodded. Her sewing could not have been that poor, could it? A stitch here, a stitch there, she silently cursed herself for making them so small. This would take months, and she could already feel her hand cramping. She bit her lip, and continued sewing.

Jeanne returned with two cups and saw Asuka had progressed only a few inches.
“Do you want some help?” She asked.
“No,” Asuka replied.
“At least take a sip.”
Asuka sighed and picked up a cup.
Jeanne pulled the fabric towards herself, inspecting it. Running a hand along it, she felt its texture and thickness.
“Is this something for winter?”
“Yes. Is my sewing bad?” She asked, peeking over the rim of the cup.
“It’s not straight and the stitches are uneven lengths, but-” she smiled at her, “I can tell you really care about this.”
She ran a hand over the wrinkles and stray ends.
“I have a little experience with this, so I won’t necessarily do it for you, but I can help you,” she added.
“I would appreciate that. The amount of times I pricked my fingers, or wanted to destroy it!” Asuka chuckled.
Jeanne smiled as she started pulling out some stitches. “Then how about we start with that: not pricking your fingers.”
“I would like that.”
She passed Asuka the fabric again and guided her hands for a few stitches.
“Have you been doing this all day?” She asked.
“No, I went to the paper earlier,” Asuka replied.
“Oh, and what did you tell them?”
“That I would do it.”
“Oh, darling, that’s so good to hear!”
Asuka laughed. “Alright, I need to concentrate now.”
“Sure, I’ll just be upstairs making a snack,” she straightened her back then disappeared upstairs. Asuka continued sewing.

Chapter Text

June 7

Thank you for the advice in your last letter, maman. I found it quite useful and I enjoyed your thoughts on my collègue.

I thought I should update you on my business: I have partnered with a newspaper to help sort out their legal issues. Very different from what I originally intended to do, but that is neither here nor there. I feel the women there are a lively bunch. You would get along with them.

It had only been three months since she arrived, she knew. She was incredibly ignorant about many things regarding the country. Even so, she expected the police to ask her questions maybe two weeks at most after filing her report. No matter how she thought about it, it was a bad sign. Either there was more crime than they knew how to keep up with, or they cared little about citizens’ complaints. She would visit to ask about her report later.

She had been to the same newspaper stand again throughout the week on her way to work. On one occasion, the newsboy regaled her with the story of what happened after he told Judai where his papers had gone; he paled and threw a blanket at Sho, which she learned was the boy’s name. She left him recently with the task of telling Judai she had read them and found them entertaining, hoping to tease him a little more. Why would he need to know she made notes on things to improve once he came back? If he knew, he never would.

Humming as she adjusted her cuffs, Asuka did the final touches before she left for work. She never stayed long, only to check over new articles or to finish a handful before leaving around noon. It was minimal work, but it was the compromise she had decided on with Mindy and Jasmine. She wanted to keep her practice open; she was stubborn about that. A few more clients came in too. She gave a last check in the mirror, adjusted her hair, and made her way downstairs and out the door.

Asuka stretched as she left the newspaper, the midday sun felt good against her skin. The last time she walked to the station, Asuka remembered being dreadfully worried, and annoyed at the trespassers. It was a strange thing for her—for anyone she thought—to have their home invaded because in it lived someone who did not wish to fight. France too required conscription, but those who objected would be jailed or forced to perform hard labour. Though she supposed that was hardly better. In truth, she had little idea what to think, or—more immediate—who to be upset at for the home invasion. She knew full well that if Judai had conscripted then it would never have happened. Part of her screamed that he should have, that it was unfair her family was risking their lives while he was a coward. Another part knew she meant none of it. Either way, both parts were selfish and angry. If her anger at Judai was a dead-end argument, the least she wanted was a bit of money to cover the door and stairwell—preferably paid from the invaders' pockets. She sighed and—finding herself at the police station—entered.

The receptionist looked up and was on the verge of recognizing her before giving up.
“What can I help you with?” She asked.
“I filed a report nearly a month ago and nothing has been done since,” Asuka explained.
“Oh, sorry to hear that. What’s your name, hun?”
“Alexis Richelieu.”
She dug through a filing cabinet to her right, humming a tune.
“You filed it out when?”
“Around the twentieth of May, I believe.”
She flicked a few more papers out of the way before pulling one out.
“Is this it?” She asked.
Asuka nodded.
“I’ll make sure it crosses by their desks.”
“So, all I can do is wait?”
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“I see. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome. Enjoy the rest of your day,” she beamed.
“You too…”

Dejection pulled Asuka down as she walked back to her apartment. Maybe it was silly of her to think that something could immediately be done. Maybe nothing would ever be done, but, if she constructed her own legal case, then something would have to be done. That was her hope as she locked the door and slipped her shoes off. A very long night of notes and bullet-point lists awaited her.

She started where she always did: gathering information about the situation. Sure, her apartment had been broken into, but did they work for someone? Filing a suit without someone to sue was asinine—her teacher would haunt her for the rest of her life—so she would ask around at the paper. Maybe they knew something or wrote a paper on it. She thought about asking Sho, but decided against it. How could he remember something like that? After she had gone down this line of questioning and it was thoroughly past twelve, she went to bed content with the work she had done.

Into June now, Asuka flicked through her lighter blouses as the sun filtered into her window through the blinds. Another day, more work to be done. She would ask about the vigilantes, do some work, then work on her other cases. And if time permitted, she would get un café au lait and grumble to herself about all the work she was making for herself. She could practically hear Judai’s chastising.

The paper seemed to be even more busy than usual, but it could have been a normal day as well. Everybody was doing about five things at once and talking to three other people in a hurry. Asuka slipped her way through the sea of people towards Mindy and Jasmine’s office and knocked.
“Come in!” Mindy called. She always sounded so chipper. She smiled as Asuka came in. “What do you need?”
Asuka fumbled over her thoughts. “Well, I just-I was wondering if the paper ever covered the people apprehending draft dodgers?”
“Not extensively, a lot of other papers have though. They’re part of the…uh…” Mindy snapped her fingers, “the APL! That’s what it’s called: American Something League. Why?”
“I heard complaints from neighbours.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, they can be kind of disruptive. You still have enough work?”
“I think I have enough to be buried with it.”
She giggled. “Good luck!”

As Asuka left, she almost bumped into Jeanne.
“Oh, sorry!” Jeanne moved out of her way.
“What were you doing waiting here?” Asuka asked.
“Curious where you were. What were you discussing with Mindy?”
“I was wondering if the paper covered any stories about apprehending the draft dodgers. My neighbours have complained about the noise.”
“Oh, well, it’s not our expertise.”
“She told me that too.”
“Weren’t you working with a man?”
“He was drafted; I told you this.”
“And sending letters, I saw,” Jeanne giggled. “Absolutely adorable! I knew you were sentimental.”
Asuka grumbled. “Were you spying?”
“It was on the desk, darling.”
“I’m going to regret you knowing about them.”
“I can’t be that annoying.”
“Oh, right. A client is coming over today, so you cannot come in; the door will be locked for extra measure.”
“Of course. I think I’ll spend some time on myself then.”
“That sounds great right about now. Cases can last so long, you know.”
“That I do. I hope you got your answers about the APL.”
“Well, only learning their name is little, but it does help.”
She waved to Jeanne as they parted ways outside the office.

Asuka shuffled her papers into a pile. So far, the case was going swimmingly with little bumps other than the wait times. Her foray into investigative journalism, however, was going a little less well. She had found postings around the city about the APL–learned its full name was the American Protection League–and learned of their purpose. They were even given the approval of the Bureau of Investigation. It seemed like she should abandon all hope of recuperating any cost; it would be more trouble than it was worth and being a recent immigrant did not help. She would bet good money that they would laugh at her attempts before threatening her if she persisted. Was she also going up against district attorneys?

She groaned, running her hands through her hair. She still wanted to do something. Anything. Maybe a noise complaint? That pessimistic part of herself nagged her with how pathetic this was getting. Nagging her again and again that there was nothing she could do, but wait for the war to be over–whenever that was. While she did her best to ignore it, she continued thinking and followed her thoughts to Jeanne’s behaviour that day. It was certainly strange. Jeanne had never put her nose in her business like that before. Just why was she reading her mail? It in no way meant anything nefarious, but it did annoy Asuka to no end. She would only slightly tolerate the behaviour from a roommate or family member. She most definitely thought she gave off an air of << no digging through my personal items >>, but in any case, she would tell Jeanne to not go through them again.

Taking a break, Asuka pulled the beginnings of a coat onto her lap and started sewing. Comparing the new stitches to the first ones she made, she had definitely improved and gave a small smile. When she last had hobbies other than reading, she could hardly remember. Maybe she should invite Jeanne to go to a show with her and branch out a little. Then she would have all the bragging privileges in the world when Judai returned. Or, she would write and send him a letter bragging about it like she always did when she felt particularly worried about him and that he would be worried about her, like an ouroboros.

Chapter Text

June 10

Whatever you do, please do not–I repeat: DO NOT–believe anything Sho tells you. He is a horrible liar and loves nothing more than seeing me in pain. I wrote ZERO poetry and that isn’t even supposed to be poetry. I’ve never seen a Poe tree in my life, not once. Also, your cooking is great! Merci for the meal again xo

It’s great to still hear from you and to know that your firm’s still up and running. You’re probably the savviest person I know (and I know a lotta smart people) so I knew you could do it.

June 20

I believe you if only to forget some of the things I have read; your prose morphed past purple to being multicoloured. We will have to discuss that. I do enjoy reading some of what you have written though; you are very perceptive. It makes me a little curious about what you noticed while you were my roommate.

Sho is also very kind. He seems to really appreciate you. It must have taken him a lot of courage to come up to me that first time.

Sometimes, I think you exaggerate how good my cooking really is, but if you say it is good then I suppose I have no choice but to believe you when Sho joins in as well. Once you return, please do not feel forced to reciprocate the meals I have given you.

I also thank you for your concern about my firm and the compliments you gave me. I’m glad to have your support.

June 22

Still nothing from the police. I would be fine if they just told me there was nothing they could do at this point. I find them to be acting incredibly rude.

On another note, things seem to be going overwhelmingly well at the paper. Everyone still rushes and takes little-to-no breaks, but soon I think they will realize that they have no reason to do so. Sometimes, I think they could use someone like you to force them to relax, which seems out of character for me, no?

All the best.

June 30

Maman, thank you for the suggestion, but I just got to America. Why would I go further North to get a, as you say, “good Canadian boy”? Are you making a joke because of their war efforts? I find it hard to believe you would, considering the circumstances. I suppose you joking is better than the alternatives though.

I had no idea America would send troops so soon. Papa really saw some earlier in the week? I must admit that that is impressive.

Tell papa and Attie that I miss them and send my love.

July 1

Hey! Did you get my letter?

You haven’t written in a while. Did you get really busy?

Thanks for the pastries by the way! Hayato, and I have really enjoyed them.

Wait, you haven’t met Hayato yet! He’s so cool. I think you and him would get along really well; he’s totally chill. Kinda like my perfect opposite.

That dinner sounds more and more amazing as time passes! What foods are you planning on making? Tell me, tell me, TELL ME!

July 16

Your last letter was a surprise. I was not expecting you to be so concerned. You were right though; I got busy again.

I picked up a new client and things are much more messy than the last case. In addition, I have received a reply from the police: I should get a better lock. Not surprising. Disappointing sure, but I suppose there is nothing else I can do unless it happens again or someone comes to me about it. C’est la vie and such and such.

Hayato sounds like a good influence on you. Perhaps he will calm your spirit.

You should know by now that no matter how many times you ask, I will never reveal what will be served at the dinner. You will just have to wait and see.

I hope you are doing well.

July 28

Today was in both parts good and bad.

Earlier, I went to the theatre and saw a performance of Richelieu with a collègue from the paper. She was most amused by the coincidence of timing and was beside herself with laughter. I admit it was quite humorous. I must also admit that neither of us knew of the history the play was about. In that regard, it was educational and not too boring.

After we had left the theatre, we came upon a march on 5th avenue, but it was silent and quite eerie. I asked my collègue about it and she knew nothing as well. Perhaps seeing our confusion, un garçon nègre approached us and handed us a flyer which read thus:

We march because by the Grace of God and the force of truth, the dangerous, hampering walls of prejudice and inhuman injustices must fall.

We march because we want to make impossible a repetition of Waco, Memphis, and East St. Louis, by arousing the conscience of the country and East St. Louis, by arousing the conscience of the country and bringing the murders of our brothers, sisters, and innocent children to justice.

That is not all it said but I believe only that much is needed to illustrate the purpose and importance of what they were doing.

Both my collègue and I were surprised that such horrible acts happened. It seems there is enough cruelty in this world that I will never know of all the different ways it is enacted.

After this encounter, we thanked the boy and continued on our way. As we did so, my collègue asked me if similar things happened in France. I ask you as well, maman, have such things ever happened in France? Has un homme nègre ever been lynched as he has in America? Would something similar happen to papa if he ever decided to visit? Would you be looked down on as well? It has never occurred to me to ask these questions and I have found no one has treated me poorly, if they notice my heritage at all. Perhaps the fact that I’m French mystifies them so that they cannot notice anything oriental about myself.

But anyways, I had no idea how to answer her, so I just answered as best I could from what I remembered: America and France are different and have different ideas about those sorts of things.

Was it not that France abolished race and squashed its consequences as a result? Maybe that is a lie and I was too sheltered to notice.

I’m sorry if this confuses you or upsets you. So many questions as always.

Please send my regards to papa and Attie again; they go through so much. I send you my love as well, maman. I know you work hard too.

August 4

I hope the weather recently has not dampened your spirits.

I heard from Sho that your birthday is this month. Is there anything you would like me to send you? Perhaps some desserts?

It seems whenever I wish for things to calm down, they always get more hectic. Do you find the same happens to you?

The next time you write me, I would like you to provide some samples of your French: to know you are practicing still despite the circumstances.

Je vous souhaite une bonne santé.

August 20

Merci pour the well wishes!!

I can’t believe you want me to do school work at a time like this. How cruel!

I’d honestly have to say that it kinda depends if things get more hectic or not. Sometimes stuff mellows out, sometimes life hits the sidewalk. If the day gets real bad then I take the day off and do nothing. The universe is telling you something and it’s honestly better to listen. That’s how you avoid accidents and stuff.

I really don’t want much for my birthday. Some peace and quiet maybe, spend time with friends, that’s all. If things were different, maybe that dinner could land on it, but we could just do it for yours or anyone else’s really.

Let me know how that client of yours goes!

Rest of the pages are my French work as you asked, misses.

September 3

Thank you for answering my letter, maman. I know it is not an easy subject.

Thank you also for continually updating me on how papa and Attie are doing. I’m glad to know they are otherwise alright.

I hope the war ends soon. I would like to see you, my family, again and there are only so many clients when so many are off to war after all. The paper keeps me busy enough but there is still time in my day where I have little to do but listen to my thoughts, which are not very pleasant at the moment.

I hope in the coming months you stay warm.

September 19

What a surprise to see your name appear on a letter in my mailbox!

It is good to hear from you, Jeanne. I do hope you are enjoying your days by yourself.

How is the match-making going? Any candidates you have in mind? Perhaps I should get you to write to my mother; she loves trying to marry me off.

Thank you for your advice on sewing pockets. I would be hopeless without your guidance. I think I’m nearly done now and just in time; the air feels more crisp.

I’m nearly ready to go to court as well. My client and I have been given a date for the hearing and I expectantly await its conclusion. Perhaps we could get some cafés au lait again at the same place? How does the 24th at 1530 hours sound?

I shall see you again at work.

À bientôt.

September 29

Thank you for your French work. It is good but has some errors which are pretty common. Please pay special attention to making adjectives plural and correct for the gender. Par example:

Un garçon achète un manteau vert.

Une fille achète une robe verte.

Une fille achète les robes vertes.

Otherwise, all I see lacking is your knowledge of words.

Your mistakes are nothing to be ashamed of; I make many similar mistakes in English (though I try to hide them).

My case from Hell is nearly over with and I am happier than I ever have been. The hearing is in a few months still—early next year—but I am already celebrating the paperwork being over. For now. Something could always come up.

I am also nearly done with my first bit of sewing. I bet you hearing I can sew is a surprise! Well, I’m rather poor at it and I have no hope anyone will like it—the stitches are uneven and the ends are messy—but I, at least, am proud.

Continue practicing your French. I will send you some more practice work.

Till the next reply, stay well.

October 13

Still more French work? What, am I your subject, princess?

Joshing aside, I’ll find some time for it. Thanks for keeping me busy, I guess.

I’ve been wondering, do you still have that book you lent me? I’d like to keep reading it. Maybe send it to me? I don’t know if you’ll let it get dirty though. Kinda hard for it to not, considering where I am right now. If not, that’s fine. I’m doing lots with all this paper, even writing a bit more multicolour prose as you called it. Really wish I knew how fun this all was. I’ll pray to you bookworms tonight for the good work you do recruiting people.

Glad to hear about the case ending! And very intrigued by what you could’ve sewed. Maybe I could find out what it is??

I have another question to ask you, but I’ll save that for when all of this is over and I’m back to work.

You stay well too. Eat and drink lots and take some time for yourself! That’s an order.

じゃあね !

(Let’s see if you can read that!)

October 20

Is that really true, maman? I’m unsure how hopeful I should feel hearing about all the soldiers in papa’s care.

You and everyone is alright, right?

I wish this dreadful war would end already. Have the Germans not done enough already. Why must they keep fighting? Why must more people suffer? What would they get of value from any of this?

More and more I wish there were no weapons and no soldiers: war would be impossible then. Does this make me a bad citizen? Am I not supposed to support my country unconditionally? Will I be arrested too?

I detest how many hard questions I have been faced with since moving. I wonder if this is what America does to every immigrant.

I regret that this is all I have to write to you about; it festers within me, I guess. I no longer know what to do.

May we both have better days soon.

October 30

What a bright spot in my days your letters are.

I’m glad to offer whatever I can so you have something to pass the time. As always, I would like to read what you write. I will be kind, I swear it.

If you want the book, then I shall send it your way. I can always get another copy. I think you will get more use from it than I.

Like always, I will never tell you what it is. You have to wait; it’s a surprise! How impatient you are.

And bossy, too. I will follow your order, even if I have been doing that already.

I had no idea you knew Japanese. I should have guessed but why assume, right? Who did you learn it from? My own father never taught me more than how to read it. He never spoke to me in it, but perhaps that was for a reason he refuses to tell me.

Well, à bientôt. Till the next letter.

November 10

Truly strange and wondrous times we live in. Seems your and the paper’s efforts were not in vain. You must be very happy, as am I. After such terrible news, to have a win such as this is invigorating. New York is joining those other states you told me about in granting women suffrage.

I was honestly surprised that there was so much support. Maybe it’s because of the war? It’s hard to deny all that women have done.

Though I am curious as to what will happen to the paper now. Will it continue until there is nation-wide suffrage? Will it branch out to wider news? I am immensely curious.

Thank you again for agreeing to get les cafés in September. I greatly enjoyed my time. Shall we do it again next week? Same time, same place?

Regards.

November 24

Hey, I’ll be as bossy as I need to to get you to take care of yourself. And it’s working!

I honestly thought that you knew Japanese. I mean, you have a Japanese name but guess that’s an assumption from me (see I can use big words too). I just learned from some grandpas who helped raise me’s all. I learned English from people out on the street. Guess we’re opposites like that, hey?

This might be rude but why was your father in France? Or, I guess, I kinda want to know how your parents met and what your family’s like. Just curious, you know? You don’t have to tell me really, I get it. If you want to ask anything about me, or whatever, then go ahead!

Do your worst!

December 1

I’m afraid I can only do my best (laugh at that, if you will).

Reassure yourself, I am not upset by your questions. I too wondered the same, and this was what he told me.

When he was done lycée (or I suppose the English equivalent), he travelled to France to learn more about it and its culture. It had been regarded highly by others he knew—family, friends—and it was time for him to go out on his own. Find himself. Something like that.

Once he arrived, he quickly grew overwhelmed and knew not where to go or how. He scarcely knew the language. He began walking aimlessly and would only stop once he knew his way around a bit.

After a while, he gave up, resigning himself to being lost. He was tired and hungry.

Disappointed, he sat on a bench and hung his head. A woman from nearby noticed how (and this is what my mother said) pathetic and like a lost cat he seemed, that she came over and asked him what was wrong. He tried to explain, fumbling his words, mispronouncing others, all the while getting more and more embarrassed as he went on. I made no attempt to hide it; that woman was my mother. She smiled and told him to wait as she ran back inside her appartement. She returned with un pain du chocolat (a pastry with chocolate in it) and handed it to him. He was very thankful and asked for her name. She obliged and he shared the same. My mother did much to help my father find somewhere to stay and find his way around Paris.

He could not stay forever, but when the time came to leave, he could not. He decided that he wanted to stay with my mother even if it meant he would no longer see his fatherland nor family. He wept for a while, sadness gripping his heart.

They decided to move into the countryside where my mother could still bake and my father could help people with his medicine. The countrymen showed them both great kindness, for it was not easy to display their relationship in public. Soon after they had my brother and I. He became a doctor as well, joining my father in the military, and I a lawyer.

With that, I think you know where the story goes next.

I greatly admire both my parents. They are the strongest people I know.

Though you give me permission and I am curious, I dare not ask you to tell me about your parents. I do not think the story is very pleasant. Perhaps instead, you could tell me about how you met Sho and Hayato? You three seem very close from the way you and Sho talk about each other. He tells me many stories, and of his deep care for you and your safety.

What a gift your friends are!

I too hope you enjoy the gift I have attached to this letter. May it help you through the winter (and please refrain from laughing at it if it is bad).

December 12

Oh, you make me blush. Those guys really are amazing. I can’t wait to see how you get along with them in person. I HAVE to be sure you and my other friends are friends. I will be crushed, smushed into the pavement, if this isn’t true.

Thanks for the story; your parents sound sweet. And thanks for trusting me with knowing it.

If I was given food, I know I’d fall in love.

I like that you want to know more about my friendship with Sho and Hayato. Kinda annoys me that people focus so much on family ties or blood or whatever. That only really works if you have family or important family. I don’t even have a last name so hah!

We met as most people meet: by coincidence. I just happened to run into them, literally, while being chased by police. Sho knew Hayato because he painted for money near the pier and one day Sho bought a painting from him. Real pretty thing, keeps it extra safe. Sho would visit time to time and they became friends like that. Sho always wanted to help him out in whatever way he could.

Now, this is personal but I know you might be wondering about Sho’s situation, why he’s with us when that doesn’t seem the case here, so don’t let Sho know I told you. He had a brother, nice enough, who was letting Sho stay with him till he got a place his own and a good job. Unfortunately, a few years later, his brother died of a heart attack and Sho didn’t have any money after the funeral for really anything. He told me he was ashamed, but I think holding that funeral says a lot about what kind of person he is. And you know how much I praise him.

Course, Sho went to Hayato and he took him in. Then I ran into them and we became friends and soon enough we’re all together and everything seems better.

I don’t really know much more about Hayato. Never thought to ask more and he never shared; it’s like he was always here or something.

I, uh, wasn’t originally from New York. Travelled here maybe 4 years ago from the West coast by train, looking for work. You know how well that’s going.

Before you ask, here and there are mostly similar. All cities look and all people act the same. Take that how you will.

And thank you, thank you, thank you for your gift. Probably the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I just can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Prepare yourself for when we see each other again.

Can’t wait for your reply!

January 4

Why, look how the time passes!

Another year has passed and, in a few months, I will have been in America for a year.

I’m sorry for how long it’s taken me to reply; I was not expecting to get so busy with dinners and work and such. I know it does not change the fact it’s been so long but I hope you accept my apology.

Thank you for sharing with me such personal information. Likewise, I appreciate the trust you show me. I am also quite happy to be considered your friend. I would like to think the same also. It’s always so quiet in the appartement now.

Did I tell you or Sho I started working at a newspaper as a legal consultant? I no longer remember. Many things I feel I have forgotten.

I think I’m starting to forget what you look like, how your voice sounds.

Idiot, vous ne lui dites pas ça!!

January 4

Why, look how the time passes!

Another year has passed and, in a few months, I will have been in America for a year.

I’m sorry for how long it’s taken me to reply; I was not expecting to get so busy with dinners and work and such. I know it does not change the fact it’s been so long but I hope you accept my apology.

Thank you for sharing with me such personal information. Likewise, I appreciate the trust you show me. I am also quite happy to be considered your friend. I would like to think the same also.

Do you need anything? I could send you more paper.

This time I have attached the book you wanted to read. I hope you continue enjoying it. If you want to read anything else, please let me know.

I’m also glad to know how much you were pleased with my gift. I become more and more anxious for the day we can see each other again.

À bientôt.

January 12

Hey, no need to apologize.

You’re acting like it’s some horrible crime to have things to do, like I’ll hate you if you don’t pay all your attention to me. I’m more like a plant. You can ignore me and I’ll still grow.

My asking might be a little blunt, but do you speak as formal in French? Is it like a quirk of learning English? I was hoping my street mannerisms would’ve rubbed off on you or you’d pick it up from other people ‘round you. Not upset, just kinda poking you with a stick to check that you do something.

Thanks for getting me the book. It’s just as good as I was remembering it being!

I don’t really need any more books right now, but I’ll ask once I’m done with this one. Paper on the other hand would be nice.

Did you still think we weren’t friends? We write way too much for that. You’re my friend just as much as Sho is your friend and just as much as he and Hayato are my friends. I’m not gonna let a little war get in the way of that; I think we’re doing a pretty good job all things considered.

So, you don’t have to worry about that. I promise.

January 23

Oh, how awful, just awful!

What papa and Attie must suffer for the good of these people. And how awful it must be to suffer as these soldiers have.

Are papa and Attie staying well? With all the disease in the hôpitals, I hope they do not become ill themselves.

And what of you, maman? How are you?

I’m feeling quite hopeful about this year but that could just be lingering from New Years. Even so, I’ve decided to try to be more optimistic.

May you have a better year.

February 6

Every time you send a letter, you reassure me and the more I feel that assurance. You have reason. Perhaps the source of your wisdom is your faith in other people.

I sound like a spiritualist, no?

I suppose my speech is from learning English? I believe my tutor was from Great Britain and perhaps that is why I do not speak as you do, city boy. Give it time and maybe I shall speak like you yet.

This may seem like a bizarre question, but do I appear particularly Japanese to you? I ask because no one seems to make notice of it or treat me any differently and yet my father is given strange looks when he goes out with my mother. Do I just look French? Are people distracted by my accent or is it because of how I dress? Were you surprised to learn that I had a Japanese name?

I’m all sorts of confused.

Sorry that this got so rambling. Maybe this is something I should be asking someone else about…

February 16

Hey, no need to apologize. It was rambling but I still get what you’re trying to say.

See, the the thing about growing up on the West coast is that a lot of people, and I mean a lot, are Chinese: labour reasons, you know. I’m pretty used to seeing orientals, and it felt nice to see so many people who looked like me growing up. The issue is that you’re, well, mixed. To some people (seems like a lotta people and this applies to other orientals too) you look and by extension are European. Maybe some don’t think so, but if you’ve introduced yourself with your European name then they’ll just shrug it off and see you as European. To other people, you look oriental even if you introduced yourself with your European name. People are weird like that.

I guess you recognized me as oriental and felt comfortable enough to give me both names. I’d rather not give you a label like that. Like, it’s a whole complicated thing for you and I don’t want to make you confused even more than seems you are. Guess the easiest answer is you’re both.

Sorry about your dad through. It’s always awful to deal with people like that when you just want to have a nice day out. I bet things’ll change someday. They always seem to.

Now, I have a hard question for you. When we first met, what made you change your mind about me?

February 26

Thank you for your answer. Your insights are always welcomed.

When we first met. Are you wondering about it because it will be a year since we met soon? Though, I guess it does seem strange.

I’ll be honest. That first night, I was running through all the scenarios where you would swindle me and I would berate myself for ever letting you in. Part of why I took the chance anyways was probably curiosity and because I, well, I felt sorry for you. Yes, I admit it! I pitied you.

When I thought about it a little later, I wondered if had you swindled me, I would apply that situation to any homeless I met in the future. Unfortunately, I still have no answer. That hypothetical hangs in the back of my mind, taunting me. But, in meeting and befriending Sho, the part of me that thinks I would move on and still help whoever I could in whatever way I could grew a little louder. That is the kind of person I hope I am.

These letters get so serious, no?

March 5

Glad to hear you are still so full of energy, Jeanne. And congratulations on your promotion! You deserve every dollar.

I go to court next week and will tell Mindy and Jasmine this myself later, but I thought I should let you know. I will be unable to attend work at the paper for some time. However, once it is over I’m thinking of having a dinner and would like to invite you. You may bring a guest but I would rather this be a quiet dinner and not a party or something similar. I will give you more details once the case is over.

And I have to ask. Why were you so nosy that day when I went around asking about the APL? Are you a member? If so, did you think I was harbouring a draft dodger? I just want you to be honest with me. I promise I mean no malice.

March 15

Happy happy one year friend-aversary!!!

What a wild year it’s been.

We’re still here and what was shooting pain is now a dull ache.

I’m getting Sho to gift you a painting Hayato made. It’s attached to this letter but I’m definitely not going to tell you what it is. If you got any questions, then just look at the back of the canvas.

You’re really awesome and I’m really glad I met you. You’re incredibly kind and hard working with so much passion for your job. Your clients are in good hands. You always try to find a solution, even to the most difficult questions. You’re doing great things and I know everyone’s gonna remember you and what you did for them. You’re a warm light in a city that never sleeps. And I’m so glad I can watch you shine, even from a distance.

I can’t wait to read all the compliments you’ll give me! I’m waiting.

(I’m joking, stay well).

March 20

Oh, I was not expecting this.

You sure do love going over the top for your friends.

I just received the painting and I must say that it’s beautiful. I think I recognize some of the buildings. Is this a view you saw often when you were in town?

I can hardly imagine what my life would be like without you as my friend. Your kindness and warmth have been reassuring this past year. The care you show everyone is truly aspirational. Your letters too have been welcomed.

I look forward to reading more of your writings.

I’m sorry I hardly have anything to say; I had been so busy with court last week that I can hardly think anymore.

I will try my best to continue though.

You have done much to help me: my business, my health, my apartment. You have done many things that I will never forget even if only how it made me feel to know someone was taking care of me. I hope to repay you one day so may the attached goods be put towards that debt. If you ever need someone, I feel it only right to be there for you in the same manner you have for me.

Please, accept my gratitude. And may you prosper.

March 25

I was wondering when you would ask me about that…

I will tell you, Alexis. You deserve that much and I do not want you to think that I am not your friend.

Yes, it is true that I was a member of the APL.

I joined around the time the war started. Everywhere I went where messages from the government explaining the atrocities of the Germans. How savage and brutish they were, killing innocence people and destroying Europe. My family like yours came from France and I loathed what they were doing to my homeland, to my family.

So, I joined the APL. They were going to find the traitors of our country. Only those on the side of the Germans would refuse to fight them. Or they were cowards who couldn’t fight for what was right. Either way, they didn’t deserve to live peacefully. At least, that was until I met you.

It wasn’t anything you said to me really, but rather a draft letter you never sent.

It dawned on me that how we are feeling must be how the Germans are feeling. I don’t forgive them, but they probably don’t forgive us either. Didn’t this all start with an assassination? Austria was attacked and took action only to be met with the intricate alliances of Europe that meant they became the new demons of Earth. Did we not meet them with violence of the same calibre? Le sang de nos ennemis est toujours le sang des hommes. Surely, they must hurt to see their fathers, brothers, sons, and friends die as we do. Maybe blind hate is what keeps this skeleton of a war going and what leads people to the vigilante “justice” you became acquainted with. I am disappointed that I would let anyone convince me that harming or supporting the harming of my fellow citizens was in any way right or justified. But really, I am the one most at fault. I believed them because on some level I agreed with them and maybe I still do.

I realized that there were more reasons to protest war than being a coward or a German sympathizer. When the whole country would turn on you, protesting such inhumane treatment and thinking is quite courageous.

I left the APL a little while before I was snooping. Whether you actually were harbouring a draft dodger or not, they found a man in your apartment and now you were going around looking for information about them! You looked suspicious. It worked out though; you stopped asking and kept your head down. I don’t even want to imagine what they would have done to you, darling. Your parents sent you here to remain safe and as your friend I see it as my duty to see their wishes fulfilled.

I understand if you find it hard to trust me. Take whatever time you need.

May 7

Thank you for your frankness. Part of me was worried that you would react negatively to my questions.

I still find it hard to articulate my thoughts and feelings, but I thought it only right to reply to you.

Your feelings make sense and in the same way you agreed with them do I feel the same. The Germans have done much harm to our homeland and continue to. Perhaps you are right about blind hate.

I never thought to entertain how the war must be affecting the Germans. I only thought about my annoyance at having to repair my stairwell and door. If that is selfish of me then I do not disagree. At the end of the day, millions are already fighting. A few cannot outweigh the work of the many. My fear for the safety of my loved ones must affect my opinions in some way too.

Perhaps we are due for a break. A cup of café sounds lovely right about now.

May 15

I think your baking just keeps getting better! Thanks so much for the goods and your kind words.

I’m glad you recognized what that painting is depicting: it’s from the stairwell of your apartment looking towards Central Park. You can’t really see it but that’s what’s in that direction. Ain’t Hayato just talented?

I hope your case went well. I’m sure you did whatever you were hoping to! I’m doing pretty good right now, but I’ll take you up on your offer whenever I need to.

Thanks for wishing me well and I hope the same for you!

Till next time.

May 28

Yes, I think the case went perfectly well in that my client came to a settlement that worked for both parties.

I had to take time off from work and now it has piled up. I have taken on more hours to rectify this and have seen minimal results so far. Sisyphus mocks me. I am still taking time for myself and limiting how much my work interferes with my sleep, so no need to worry there.

I am currently looking for another client but am in no rush really. I was thinking of asking previous clients for their opinions on my service for future uses. What do you think of the idea? I could put a quote on my business cards.

Hayato is not just talented; I think he could do well at a gallery or something similar. I think I know people who would like his works. Could you ask him if he is interested? If he is, could you also ask him to provide some information about himself, how best to contact him, and provide a sample of his range of works? Sorry for asking this of you; I wish I could ask him myself.

Well, à bientôt.

June 8

Man, ain’t that just nice of you!

Hayato was real flattered when I told him what you wrote. He’s happy you think that highly of his work. He got straight to work making miniature versions of his paintings and putting together something for, I guess, will be a business card. It’s in the envelop.

Speaking of, did you make your business cards yourself or do you know someone?

Also, I think adding client feedback to your business card would be a good way to get people to choose your service. I say go for it!

I salute you in your dire efforts against the horrible paperwork. I’m very glad I’ve never had to encounter this beast of monstrous proportions. Oh, you brave soul.

In all seriousness though, good luck!

See you soon!

June 22

I just got your package, maman. Thank you so much for the birthday wishes and no need to worry about it being so late.

I tried a bit of the bread you sent me and it was lovely. You are truly talented and I am very pleased. I also thank you for the lovely vest you sent me; I will wear it right away! Perhaps you could spare me some of your sewing prowess? I tried it myself and I was just awful before getting help from my collègue. What sort of materials do you use?

I am also very pleased to receive papa and Attie’s gifts. The woodblock carving is magnificent! I’m surprised they could find the time this year, considering all the injured and ill soldiers.

I missed your birthday last year with all the chaos of work, so what can I do to make it up to you this year? Send me a list and I shall get one of the things on it.

Bisous. Take care of yourself.

July 20

It seems something bad happens every week of this war. Papa and Attie are still swamped with all the soldiers they have to care for. I wish more of them were healthy.

Life feels like it has come to a screeching halt everywhere I turn: only death continues. Perhaps I need to take the day off; I do not feel motivated at all and scarcely more to leave my appartement.

Jeanne will probably come by to see me and we can have tea then. I might take some of the leftover fabric and make some mittens. I should get another fabric that’s fluffier, so I guess I will go out today.

What a long year this feels like. The Germans must be getting tired too, right? Or are they that inhuman.

Well, whatever, I say. I have a nice breakfast to start making.

August 20

This year, this year, I am not missing your birthday, Judai! I sent it early just to be sure.

I hope you like it and hopefully I’m better at sewing seams this time. I even got a sewing machine to help with the process. Goodbye callouses!

I’m unaware if you know or not, but a new disease has started spreading in Spain at least and the frontlines is full of ill soldiers. Please keep yourself safe. Who knows if or when it will spread there. So, far everything seems fine and health professionals are saying that it is another mild illness, considering so many people have recovered. I think I believe them, if only to grant myself peace of mind.

I hope you stay well and thank you for providing me what I asked for from Hayato. I have finally finished them (yes, they were business cards) and have provided them in the envelop. I hope he likes them.

Till next time.

September 6

Okay, fine! I’ll accept your birthday gifts.

Thanks, and all that. It means a lot.

Your gifts are wonders for the cold and I really appreciate that. I definitely see your hard work paying off. Great job!

I especially like that you sent me more books to read, and by the same person, too. Her writing’s really something. I wonder if there are any clubs where I could talk about her books. Do you know of anything? You seem like the sort of person to create something like that.

Also, I gave Hayato those business cards and I swear he cried a little. He really loves them! I think you did a great job too. You sure are talented at a lot of things, missy.

First I ever heard of this disease you’re talking about. If the health workers are saying it’s fine, then it probably is. No need to worry yourself over nothing, right? At least it won’t be tuberculosis.

You stay well too. No overworking yourself, OK?

September 8

Alright, alright, I promise not to overwork myself.

Mon Dieu. I swear, you spend more time worrying about me than yourself.

Thank you again for all the compliments. I am so glad you and Hayato appreciate and like my gifts.

If you are looking for something like a book club, then I have wonderful news for you. Firstly, yes, I am the sort of person who would create one. Secondly, there was no need for me to create one as a collègue of mine already has! Once you return, we can go together. I would suggest you start preparing; there is an initiation process. I also hear that the author will be releasing a new novel soon, which is so exciting. I will send you a copy once it does.

Till next time.

September 23

I knew I could count on you! I can’t wait to read that newest book.

I’m currently making my way through that series you sent me written by her and I am really enjoying myself. I’ve even been talking to Hayato about it, which really annoys him when it’s late and he’s trying to sleep. I just can’t help it! I have to talk to someone about it.

I spend a lot of time worrying about you because you can be so stubborn sometimes. How many times did I have to remind you to stop working on a case and have a bath? Or to go to sleep? I bet you stayed up late thinking about how you could get money from those vigilantes. I’m right, aren’t I?

You’re so smart and yet so stupid sometimes.

I don’t have to worry so much about myself because I actually take care of myself. I’ve been ill enough of my life, thank you very much. You haven’t seen a long work day until you pull 16 hours each day for a week like someone I knew out West. They fired him too not long after hiring him. He was, like, sunken in from the tiredness.

Don’t be working yourself like him when you don’t got to.

October 4

Oh, you are just so right and so knowledgeable.

I’m improving, alright? I only stay up a little late once a month for work instead of once a week.

October 26

Maman, have you heard the news?

All throughout town are posters about how to self-quarantine. It seems the disease we were told was nothing to worry about, has become something to worry about. Seems so typical, no?

They implemented staggered business hours to reduce congestion on transit but everything remains open. I can understand the health commissioner’s reasoning for why this is. He does make an excellent point about not everyone living in the cleanest conditions.

I have decided to operate at reduced hours. But it is not myself I worry most about. Unlike others, I have an appartement to myself and only walk down to the grocery store once a week. There is my job at the paper, but only the most essential of people remain in the office; everyone else works at home and mails in their work. I, of course, am one of the few essential employees.

Things must not be any better for you, are they? At least the countryside limits contagion. You have your baking to keep you busy too. I’m sure everyone will be glad to have some normalcy in their lives and you will be too.

I have decided to use this time to complete some personal reading and practice my sewing. Thank you for the tips and advice; I feel my sewing has already improved! I was surprised to see that New York has almost everything you use. Now, I know where to go to get you gifts.

I wish you well and am impatiently awaiting your reply.

Wish papa and Attie well for me.

November 11

I cannot believe it.

After four years of war, turmoil, sadness, and loss, it’s all over. I can see my family again. I can return to my homeland. I can rest easy now. No more worrying about if papa and Attie will make it home alright or if they will be shot. Maman can finally rest. I can see Judai again and meet Hayato. The appartement will be filled with laughter and someone else for the first time in a year. I can stop feeling so hopeless and lonely, crushed by the futility of it all. I can finally make good on that promise of a dinner.

Even though illness is sweeping the city, the air from the stairwell has never felt so clear nor the world so vibrant.

There is little I can do to stop the tears welling up in my eyes. I must send my family a letter as soon as I can. I must have un café au lait with Jeanne again soon. I must if only because a future has been granted to all of us who remain. That seems the most appropriate way to honour those lost other than ensuring something like this never happens again.

I hope everyone decides to be just that bit nicer to everyone else. I hope I never have to experience something as horrible as this again. I cannot imagine how the soldiers must feel. I can only be glad that they will return to their families. I hope their aching ends just as mine has.

There is so much to be thankful for and as always, so much work to do.

I have a letter to wait for.

Chapter Text

December 13

She hoped she would never have to return here. The smell of fish assaulted her senses even when the dock was cleared. Her only solace was the sun’s rays dancing along the river’s edge as it rose above the horizon. With shorter days came the ability to easily view a sunrise even if she felt sluggish and wanted to return to the sanctity of her blankets. She sighed and took a seat on one of the benches that looked out at the Hudson River. She still remembered the pit in her stomach as she walked off the liner and took her first steps in America.

It seemed only fitting that it would be here they met again.

As the morning progressed, more and more people gathered on the dock with the same anticipation evident in their fidgeting and swaying. The crowd was abuzz with a multitude of voices trying to speak over the waves. Nothing could be made out but Asuka guessed they were engaged in small talk, maybe sharing their excitement at welcoming home whoever they were waiting for, or maybe they were waiting to leave. She watched as the crowd grew to such a size that, by midday, she could no longer see the edge of the pier nor most of the river.

The crowd grew more boisterous as a steam liner pulled into port. It must have been one of the ships transporting troops.

Asuka stayed where she was. He would come when he wanted.

“Hey, missy! What are you doing out here?”
She turned her head to the left. Beside one of the crates, she saw his red, tattered vest and messy brown hair. It had been a little over a year, but it felt like a lifetime to her. She smiled, picking up her briefcase, and walked over to him.
“Just came to watch the waves,” she replied. She wrapped her arms around him. “Welcome home.”
He squeezed her tight. “It’s good to be back.”
It felt so good to see him. A lightness she did not know she had filled her chest. Or maybe it was something like relief.
Judai pulled back. “You know, I think today might be a good day for that dinner.”

As they walked away from the pier—from the ship, from the other reunions, other departures—Asuka told him everything she had wanted to in her letters. She told him about how worried she was and how happy she was to see him. How she stayed up some nights, unable to fall asleep, with worry at everything that was happening. That some nights, she imagined everyone she knew dying, never being able to see her family again. That she had always kept him in her thoughts. That he was her friend and maybe even family. She did not know if he wanted that, but that was what she felt after worrying so much and hoping for him to return. No matter how much she denied it—tried to brush it off as her not wanting to go through the hiring process again, or her wanting someone else to live with her so they could pay part of the rent—she really did miss him and the space he filled in her life. She wanted to know him better and make up for lost time. She wanted to really earn his friendship. To deserve it. He listened to her and, once she had finished, he smiled. He too was relieved.

Other than the new restrictions, life seemed to go on as usual as they slowly settled back into their routine. He would chastise her here; she would retort there. It was reassuring. The paper continued on too. It branched out from its roots, including all sorts of news about the world, local events, and household tips and tricks. Everyone seemed so relieved last time Asuka walked into work. It was even a little quieter as everyone stopped smashing their typewriter’s keys.

But if everything was sunshine and roses, that would be a miracle.

Though the war was over, that did not stop the persecution of conscientious objectors nor the raids. Each one in the papers only made Asuka’s blood boil. There were also all the issues the returning soldiers had. Despite all their sacrifice, they were left to dry by the government and many became homeless. Judai went out every day to check on them and bring them anything they needed: blankets, food, lighters, cigars, and on and on. One day, they both returned from being out, slumped on the couch, and groaned. They both laughed. Judai offered to make her a sandwich and she accepted. Ham and cheese of course.

A knock came from the apartment door one day, to which Judai happily opened it. In came a bulky young man with black hair pulled into two buns. He was dressed in a worn-out two-piece suit and carried a canvas. Judai’s face could light up a city. He pulled the man into a tight squeeze and laughed. It was such a light laugh, like a feather: one she was unaware she missed.
“Hayato, you’re looking well! I take it the painting business is too?” he asked.
Hayato nodded with a smile. “I owe it to you and Miss Richelieu. Thank you so much!”
Asuka was touched. It was hardly anything big, but, well, that was what she thought when she gave Sho that food. She still remembered the look he had on his face. Maybe it was small, but it certainly meant a lot to them. Who was she to disagree? So long as they were happy and healthy.
“You are very welcome,” she replied, flashing her own smile.
What a happy spot in what were stressful days!
Judai let go of his friend. “And what do you have there?” he asked.
Hayato sifted the canvas around to reveal a wonderful painting of the Hudson River. It was like the view she had coming into the city for the first time. It was set at night, used so many blues, and was painted with this light, dreamy feeling to the brush strokes. The more art she saw from him, the more she recognized it as akin to impressionism. Judai’s jaw dropped as he extended his hands to bring it closer to himself.
“It’s beautiful,” he said. “We’ve gotta hang this in the living room!”
Asuka nodded.
A faint blush creeped along Hayato’s cheeks as he scratched his neck. “You guys are too sweet.”
“Would you like some tea?” Asuka asked. “I would hate for you to come here and not rest a little.”
“Oh, that would be nice. Thank you,” he replied.
Asuka smiled as she turned towards the kitchen, grabbing the kettle to fill it with more water. She placed it on the stove top and waited while it boiled. As she waited, Judai and Hayato sat on the couch and began to talk. She smiled, focusing on the lists stuck to the fridge. She missed this.
“Hey, missy?” Judai asked.
“Yes?” She turned to face him.
“What’s gonna happen now? You going back to France?”
For a few nights now, she had wondered when he would ask her and she would have to commit to whatever answer she gave. That commitment was something she wished she could ignore. She felt guilty knowing that the answer was actually simple for her to make; she was staying. What made it difficult was imaging her family’s reaction. They sent her to America to keep her safe. She would not have what she did currently without that decision. Before, her home was always in France; it was where her family, her teacher, the embroidered shoes and tie-on pockets her mother made, the châtaignier her father loved, and the rivers she and her brother would play in all were. Slowly, she figured, she must have come to appreciate New York in much the same way. It was different from her other home, but it welcomed her nonetheless (she was lucky in that regard she knew). Like her home in France, it held dear friends, her jobs, and cafés au lait with Jeanne biweekly. It held fewer memories than the twenty-one years she spent in France, but the memories—despite how few—meant as much to her as the numerous from France. Her apprehension of committing to her decision all came down to some perceived loyalty. That she owed it to her family—her country—to return to France and continue on her life as if was.
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Did you ever regret leaving the West Coast?”
He blinked at her before shrugging. “Nah, life will take me where it will. Not up to me to force it to do what I want, but I wouldn’t change now for nothing. Life’s pretty good.”
“Yes, it is,” and she really meant that.
“Boat ride over doesn't take that long anymore either,” Hayato said. “I heard from a client that it took ‘bout four days or something.”
Asuka giggled as she added the tea leaves to the pot. “Oh, really?”
“Oh, he just means well,” Judai said shaking his head with a smile.
Hayato, realizing what he said and to whom, lowered his head with a sigh.
Asuka placed the teapot on the coffee table along with some cups decorated with flowers and paint blots. “No need to focus on it; I think it’s nice that you felt the need to tell me.”
He smiled, scratching his cheek. “Did you, um, paint the cups yourself?” he asked.
“My maman and I actually. I’m not much of an artist, I’m afraid. Maman has that sense for these sorts of things. I wish she could have given some of that sense to me.”
“I bet you do and you just have to do it more. I wish I still had my early stuff: you’d never believe it!”
“Or you’re just better at different things. Your sewing though ain’t bad,” Judai chimed in.
“Well, thank you,” she replied. “At some point, I think I get used to saying something so much that it means nothing to me anymore. Like they are words someone else said coming out of my mouth. Strange, no?”
“I think it’s kinda sweet. Like, you never really rid yourself of anyone you meet.” Judai poured himself a cup of tea too. “Maybe our thing is getting into heavy topics at casual meetings.” He laughed.
“It is uncanny how often it happens,” she agreed. “Have you finally finished preparing for the book club?”
“Well—’’ he scratched the back of his head, “—sorta. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for it.”
“Pease just get it over with: I wanna get some sleep again.” Hayato sighed.
Judai feigned being hurt. “I share with you something I like, and that’s what you have to say!”
“How rude, Hayato.” Asuka tsked as she shook her head. “Are you not friends?”
“Is this just ‘gang up on Hayato’ day?”
The two of them made some noise, trying to deny it, before looking between themselves and laughing.
“One day, it will be your turn to get at us,” Asuka said.
“Well, that’s if you’re around. Otherwise, I gotta take it forever,” Judai pouted.
Asuka gave a small smile. “Well, I’m sure you will be happy then to hear that I plan on staying.”
Judai lowered his cup. “You serious?”
She nodded.
A look of pure relief washed over his face, making her want to bury her head in her hands. However, she reached for a cup and poured herself some tea. It would definitely help—she hoped—to distract her from that look. It made her stomach twist into knots.

And so, life went on. Soon the day came when she stood where her father stood and hated to tell her mother—who came dressed in her best to return her daughter home—that she would be staying. Her mother cast her eyes to the ground before lifting them again; a smile found its way to her lips, trying to hold back tears.
“Be safe, dear,” she said.
Asuka nodded as she stepped forwards for a hug.

The apartment was quiet that day as Asuka sat in the living room staring at the wall, wondering if she really made the right decision. Judai joined her in the afternoon, handing her a sandwich and a glass of water. She gladly accepted them and found herself soon laughing at his poor jokes and puns. She continued to laugh when she saw the face he made when she told him her family would be coming to visit in a month’s time. He sighed finally and sunk into the cushions.

Life was good, at least for now. Even when it crushed her between two rocks, she knew that she would make it through.

Everyone would do anything for what they love.

And she loved this life.