'Yuu Tomohiro?' Yuki said, her arms waving wildly as if that would jog a memory I didn't have. Had they been eavesdropping the whole time? In Japan, everyone went by their last names first. 'You know, a daiji na hito or something?' If Yuki was worried, it was probably gossip-worthy. 'Some big shot?' I said in English, and Yuki cocked her head to the side. I tapped the toe of my slipper on the ground it felt so flimsy. I peeked around her shoulder, but I couldn't see anything through the glass. 'Trust me,' she said, 'you don't want to get in the middle of this.'

'I'll just be in and out, ten seconds.' I held out my fingers for emphasis. 'What am I supposed to do, wait?' I said. 'There's an ugly breakup going on in the genkan. She didn't insist on English like some of the other kids. I liked that about Yuki-she knew I was trying. 'You still shouldn't,' she said, this time in Japanese. Yuki shook her head, so I pointed at my slippered feet. Forget I ever had any other kind of life. It's easier to forget everything, I guess. It's the easiest way to get fluent faster. 'Um, I kind of have to,' I answered in broken Japanese. 'You do not want to go in there,' she said in English, motioning at the school entrance behind us. Yuki grabbed my arms with her slender fingers.

I guess that's expected when you're the only Amerika-jin in the school. Their stares weren't unfriendly-they just weren't exactly subtle. I looked up to see Yuki running toward me, breaking from a group of girls who stopped chatting, staring at us. I'd gone into that mode again, the one where I forgot everything for a minute and walked dazed through the sounds of the Japanese being spoken around me, not fully comprehending that it wasn't English, that I was on the other side of the world, that Mom was. You'd think after a couple of weeks I'd have the routine down, but no. I had to turn around and slink all the way back to the genkan, the stifled laughs from my classmates trailing me as I mustered what slippered dignity I could. I made it halfway across the courtyard before I realized I was still wearing my school slippers.

Ink by Amanda Sun