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After staying a week in the city, Jodie started rummaging through the web in search of the nicest beaches this nice country could offer.
Yes, she would bet on the word nice. Most of the things she'd read about this country were true. The people were disciplined and polite. In restaurants, banks, public transport, and stores, people fell into straight and peaceful lines. No overtaking, no jumping into lanes painted for wheelchairs even though they were empty and could save them time.
Some smiled at her for no reason: a middle-aged man she crossed the street with, a pregnant woman who sat in front of her on the subway, an elderly couple who passed by her in a park. Wherever she turned her head, she saw them bow, speaking of words she knew the meaning of: excuse me, sorry, thank you.
The streets were amazingly clean. There were only a few garbage bins but she almost never saw trash. Once, she saw a boy drinking from a can of juice. He looked around, then took out a plastic bag from his backpack and put the empty can inside, carrying it with him as he walked. One morning, when she went out to jog, she saw a girl wrapping a chewed gum on a piece of paper before throwing it in a bin. After a few days, she herself had adapted to doing the same; she took her garbage with her when she came back to her hotel room.
Jodie sipped her iced tea and went on to scour her laptop in search of the best beach resorts.
She had planned this trip for years, saving money and waiting until she was past the age at which traveling abroad would be smoother. If she were a minor, she could still travel alone, but problems might arise upon arrival at her destination. Some hotels didn't allow guests under eighteen, or might allow her to check in, but would require written parental consent or a guardian's contact number. So, to spare herself from possible complications that could ruin an otherwise enjoyable vacation, she thought it best to wait until she turned eighteen.
She had just graduated from high school and wanted to enjoy life while she could, while she had the time. Next month, she would be studying at a university and her time would surely be taken up by lectures, courseworks, and assignments.
After she graduated, she planned to apply to the FBI to follow in her father's footsteps—a decision James had opposed at first. He had warned her about the worst-case scenarios and reminded her how her father died in the line of duty. In the end, though, he accepted the fact that she was truly determined, and that in a few years, they might have a second-generation Agent Starling in the Bureau.
Still, this trip was random, in a way, in that she hadn't chosen her destination.
She thought of the places she wanted to go: the cold stones of the medieval castles in Scotland, the massive and towering ancient pyramids in Egypt, the bright beaches of Indonesia, the historical streets of England, even the endless golds of the Sahara Desert and the lush greens of the Amazon Rainforest.
There were a lot of places outside the US she wanted to see, a lot that she couldn't decide where to fly.
So...
When she saw kids on the street playing a dart game, that was when the idea hit her. The next day, she bought a toy dart and a world map. She pinned the map on the wall, and with her eyes closed, she threw the dart and let it decide the place she would spend her first trip out of the country.
The single thumping sound made her heart race. She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes.
Though her home country was huge, the dart hadn't hit it. Instead, it marked a place on the right side of the map, a vast land area stretching to its left and an even more vast ocean to its right. It lay thousands of miles away from home.
Japan.
Next thing she knew, she was studying the Japanese language and culture. She didn't need to know a lot, just the basics. And that was what she did; she practiced speaking every day greetings and memorized the do's and don'ts.
"Aha..." she mumbled, her big blue eyes fixed on the photos glowing on her laptop screen.
Everything was deep green. Rivers ran through the town. A hot spring resort, hidden in the mountains. Just by looking at the photos, the city faded and nature slowly took over. It felt like she wasn't just going somewhere, but leaving the normal world behind.
She clicked on How to get there from Tokyo, and felt a great rush of excitement as she read the details.
"Five hours in bullet train... then transfer to smaller train, two hours... and one hour in bus into the mountains."
Her eyes lit up. A refreshing bath after a tiring journey... in a hot spring tucked between the mountains, away from the noise and pollution of the city. Perfect.
"Well... the beach can wait. I'll go to the hot springs first."
Jodie imagined the long journey and the "earned" feeling upon arrival to a place that felt hidden, almost a secret. She grinned widely.
"This is gonna be great."
***
Jodie placed her bag on the floor and lay on the bed, exhausted from a day-long journey. It was nighttime already, and she decided to rest for a while before dipping into the steaming hot springs and dining to try the local dishes with the best reviews on the resort's website.
Since it was a secluded place, she had expected to see only a few guests. But it was the opposite. There were a lot of people, both locals and foreigners like her. It didn't bother her, though. The place was really beautiful; no wonder so many tourists would want to go there.
She took some time looking at the photos she had taken from her camera earlier, then unpacked her stuff, and went to the bathroom. About half an hour later, she stepped out of the shower. After putting her clothes on, she heard indistinct murmurs from outside her room. She initially ignored it, but not when she clearly made out some of the words.
"Someone stole my wallet... I saw a suspicious man circling the bench where I left my things... It must be him."
She peeked through the window and saw the resort staff members, some speaking to a woman, some rushing forward.
Without thinking twice, Jodie swung the door open and stepped outside with full determination to help catch the said thief.
"Did you see his face? What did he look like? What did he wear?" she asked the victim when she reached her, an elderly woman who was not a local.
"A man. Tall, black hair, wearing shorts. That's all I can remember. Oh, please, my cards and money are in there," answered the woman, her hands trembling and her face pale. She pointed her finger forward. "He went that way."
Jodie ran toward the direction where the said thief was seen headed, passing by staff who reacted quickly as she did and some bystanders blinking in confusion. Crimes did happen every where, sure. But a secluded hot spring resort should be quiet and peaceful, with staff closely monitoring the premises. How could someone have the nerve to do a furtive act there?
She took a few turns, scanning every corner until she reached the lobby. Her eyes darted around, and there, among the crowd, she saw someone who stood out. At least from her perspective.
A man emerged from the dark corner, blending in with the other guests before heading for the exit. He was tall, wearing camouflage shorts and a blue shirt, and a baseball cap that didn't hide the strands of black hair falling on his nape. He was a perfect fit for the victim's description of the perpetrator. He was walking at a normal pace, completely unbothered by the ongoing commotion.
And Jodie therefore concluded it must be him.
"Trying to act normal to avoid suspicion, huh? It won't work for me. I'm a future FBI agent," she thought.
She followed the man in meassured steps, being careful not to startle him and risk him running off with the stolen wallet.
When she saw him glancing back at her, she thought he had noticed her, and that he would run. She reacted quickly.
"Hey, you. Where do you think you're going?" Jodie said, jumping the man and grabbing him from behind. By the neck. "You have nowhere to run. Now return the wallet that you stole."
The man remained unmoving and didn't respond with a single word while she held him tight with a vice-like grip, making sure, though, that she wasn't strangling him.
Moments later, footsteps approached.
"Ano... okyaku-sama..."
Jodie felt a hand tapping her shoulder lightly. She turned to look and a saw a man bowing low, flanked by two resort staff members on each side, one holding his arms and one holding a black wallet.
She eyed the man in the middle. Tall, black hair, wearing a shirt and shorts.
One of the staff stepped closer and looked at her pensively. Or perhaps, pityingly.
"Actually, the man you're tackling right now was the one who caught the thief. He tied him up so he couldn't run away."
Her heartbeat nearly stopped, her grip on the man's neck loosening involuntarily.
The woman whose wallet had been stolen came running to the scene, positively identifying the thief—the real one—and listing the contents of her wallet one by one to prove it was hers.
She looked at Jodie, who disintegrated into humiliation particles.
"Thanks. But you've got the wrong guy. He's the thief," she said, pointing to the other man, absolutely not the one Jodie was still holding.
She let go. Immediately.
Slowly, almost hesitatingly, she turned her head to face the man she had wrongfully apprehended and prepared herself for the worst.
Blue met green.
The young man, probably in his early twenties, stared at her, unblinking, the cold look in his deep green eyes piercing her to the bone. His right hand was tucked inside his pocket, while he bent down, and with his left hand he grabbed the baseball cap that had fallen on the ground. Without looking away, he dusted off his cap, wore it, and adjusted the collar of his shirt.
He was completely unharmed. Physically, at least. The same couldn't be said with his dignity.
This guy looked Japanese, and she didn't know if he spoke English.
"Oh, no. I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Jodie said, bowing her head, a piece of Japanese etiquette she had learned was necessary when apologizing. "I'm really, really sorry."
The guy didn't answer; his expression didn't waver.
"You... you don't understand me?" she asked, her heart pounding so loudly it could explode inside her chest. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to remember the words. "Okay... uhm... Gomen nasai."
She motioned to her left chest and mentally turned the pile of Japanese words upside down she had memorized a few days ago. "Uh... shinzo. From my... shinzo, gomen nasai. I'm really, really sorry."
She bowed again and again, so low that her head almost hit the ground, raising both hands in a placating gesture, as if she were standing face to face with a law enforcer ready to arrest her.
The guy with the piercing green eyes, bony cheeks, sharp jaw, and an undeniably handsome face still looked disturbingly calm, as if he were secretly plotting his revenge.
Then finally, finally, he nodded, almost unnoticeable, yet she caught it.
"Your grip was surprisingly tight."
She blinked, relieved that he spoke her language. "You speak English?"
"Obviously," he deadpanned, scratching his neck where she had left a red mark. "Next time, observe more carefully. Nothing is wrong with being confident, but there is in overdoing it," he said calmly, his deep, low voice hung in the air, but didn't carry an edge in it at all.
Jodie tried to open her mouth, but he raised his hand, subtly interrupting her.
"You've said enough apologies. I don't need more."
With that, the guy turned on his heels but stopped after a few steps and looked back at her.
"By the way," he said. "Next time you apologize, use kokoro, not shinzo."
"What? Why?"
The guy didn't answer, didn't even look back. And she remained there watching as he left.
She walked back to her room on autopilot, a tidal wave of embarrassment hitting her she just wished the ground beneath her feet would crack and swallow her whole.
The first thing she did was, of course, grab her phone and type in a few words in the search box.
Shinzo and kokoro difference.
Jodie collapsed on the bed, while her soul got up an packed its belongings.
The image of the dart toy flashed through her mind, and she found herself cursing it for landing in a place where she had just had the most embarrassing moment of her life. So far. Yet she doubted anything could surpass its level of savageness. Ever.
She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to tell herself that the world was wide, that billions of people lived in it, and that it would be astronomically impossible for their paths to cross again.
***
Five years later...
The room was filled with quiet anticipation. Thirty young, hopeful, and determined new agent trainees sat and waited for their guest speaker—a special agent Quantico had invited to give their lecture to the promising trainees.
Like many said, it was one of the greatest feelings to be taught by someone living the life one was currently dreaming of.
Jodie tapped her pen gently against her palm. Like the others, she was excited to meet a federal agent and learn from what they would share. A few things, yet useful enough to accompany them throughout their journey, from trainees holding Quantico IDs to real federal agents with badges.
Soon, the instructor stood behind the lectern and spoke.
"Good morning, trainees. Today, a guest speaker from the FBI will be joining us and give you a one-hour lecture about judgment under pressure. The first forty-five minutes will be for discussion. Listen carefully and take notes. For the remaining fifteen minutes, you may ask questions. Please welcome Special Agent Akai."
A man dressed in black walked into the room, and silence deepened, broken only by his footsteps gliding smoothly against the floor. His long hair swayed behind his back with every step he took. He was tall, and his imposing presence radiated authority, like someone who didn't want to impress anyone but did anyway.
For some reason she couldn't explain, Jodie had felt a strange unease since learning that someone from the FBI would be coming to give them a lecture that day. It wouldn't be her first time meeting a real special agent; she grew up living with one—her father. And later on, James, who became her legal guardian. Growing up, she had also met some of his father's colleagues.
When she saw the man, the strange feeling intensified, yet she still couldn't name it.
The guest speaker turned around and faced them, his eyes sweeping across the room.
His green eyes.
Those green eyes.
The ones she could never forget.
No way.
Jodie swallowed, her fingers tightening around her pen.
"Thank you," he said, nodding to the instructor. "Good morning, everyone. I'm Special Agent Shuichi Akai."
Shuichi... Akai...
She repeated his name in her mind.
"Years ago, I was sitting where you are now," he continued. "Like I did, you'll learn many things here. I'm glad to have the opportunity to contribute to your training today. As your instructor mentioned, I've been asked to speak to you about judgment under pressure over the next sixty minutes. Let's begin."
He glanced at the trainees who were looking at him attentively.
"Judgement under pressure doesn't simply mean thinking and acting fast. It's the ability to make decision quickly when the situation is uncertain and the stakes are high. Some times, you don't get perfect information. Situations are chaotic, and you often have seconds, not minutes. At the same time, you are managing stress and emotion. You get pressure from others, and more importantly, you fear letting the suspect escape. So what others do? They rush, they assume, they make mistakes. Here's an example."
He clasped his hands behind his back and scanned the room. Some of the trainees scribbled down notes, while others didn't take their eyes off him as they awaited his next words—including her, who hadn't written a single word in her notebook. She had a bad feeling about what he was going to say next.
"An incident happened inside an establishment. A theft was reported. The staff investigated, relying only on the victim's broad description of the suspect. Then there was this individual..."
The trainees shifted slightly from their seats, all eyes up on him, lit up with anticipation.
And Jodie... she was still there inside the room, silently pinching the skin on her hand, desperately hoping this day was just a dream. Or a nightmare.
Don't. Don't. Don't...
"Don't mistake this as a fictional story," he continued. "Because it was a real life experience. That individual was brave. Determined. Decisive. And wrong."
Her mind ceased operation. She didn't feel like listening to a lecture anymore, but to a horror tale about a reckless girl eaten alive by a humiliation monster.
"They misidentified an innocent person for the suspect and physically restrained him. By the neck. He was even informed he had nowhere to run."
Jodie's soul left the chat, and her existence evaporated.
"It didn't take long until the misunderstanding was cleared and the crime was solved. The staff arrived with the apprehended suspect. The real suspect. The individual, who had the confidence but lacked confirmation, later apologized. Extensively. Anatomically."
The trainees let out suppress laughter. Some couldn't help but giggle from their seats.
Shuichi continued, his voice even. "They said, 'From my shinzo, I'm sorry.'"
Jodie's brain disconnected to the real world, her soul relocated to the outer space, and her dignity was now pressumed dead.
"For those of you who are confused," he said, aware of the sudden shift in their gazes, which turned from interest to confusion. "The incident happened in Japan, and that person was not a Japanese speaker. Shinzo is the Japanese word for the physical heart. The organ. So, the apology translates roughly to..."
His eyes lifted around the room, and darted briefly... to her. Blue met green again—a split second eye contact that screamed recognition.
No. No. No...
"From my internal organ, I'm sorry."
After hearing him tell the worst moment of her life in front of thirty witnesses, she remained unconscious for the rest of the lecture, and only regained consciousness after a fellow trainee sitting beside her raised a hand when the Q&A began.
"Sir, what could have been done differently in that situation?"
Shuichi nodded. "Good question. Since it happened in a closed area, containment is a priority. Alert the staff to secure all exits to prevent the suspect from escaping. Check if there are security cameras, ask the victim or witnesses for a clarified description of the suspect—age, build, skin tone, color of clothes, any distinctive items they're carrying. When you find someone fitting the description, don't act recklessly. Observe first. Are they nervous? Hurrying to leave? Looking everywhere? Hiding something? Once you confirm, do not, I repeat, do not grab them by the neck. Instead, call out or block their path. If intervention is needed, you introduce yourself and issue a clear command. Say, 'Sir/Ma'am, I need you to stop for a moment.' This can help assess suspicion."
Another one raised a hand. "Sir, did that person face any consequences?"
"Nothing, as far as I know." A pause. A very faint smile ghosted in his lips. "I hope, though, that they learned from their mistake and didn't give up on their dream."
Jodie blinked. Somehow, she resurrected into an upgraded version of herself.
Later, after a few chaotic minutes of thinking whether to spend her break time at the café or to do what her kokoro told her, she decided on the latter.
"Excuse me. Sir," Jodie called out with hurried steps behind Shuichi.
He looked back then turned to face her fully. "We meet again."
She smiled shyly. "I was surprised you remembered me."
"I'll never forget someone who accused me of theft and tackled me when I was just an ordinary tourist." There was no edge in his voice, just calmness that hadn't change after five long years.
Jodie didn't feel embarrassed this time. Not anymore.
"I think... I think I owe you a cup of coffee."
Shuichi pouted his lips, not dramatically, though. "I'd like to consider taking that offer. Compensation, perhaps. But I'm heading back to the office now."
"Okay..." she whispered, although it's not, it's not okay.
Not until he shoved a hand inside his pocket and pulled a small notebook with a pen clipped on it and handed them to her.
"Your number. I'll call you when I'm free," he smiled, not faint this time, but wide. "If it's alright with you."
Of course it was.
"Jodie," she said, offering her hand. "I hope you have forgiven me already."
Shuichi took her hand and shook it firmly. "I have. Because I know that you were really sorry... from your internal organ.