Pain. Cold and pain. Jin moaned in anguish, and rolled onto their side. Or rather, tried to. But their whole body felt like it was weighted by lead. The pain was the only thing letting Jin know they were still alive. [b]“Can you state your name?” [/b] “What? My name?” What the heck kind of question was that? “My name is-“ Suddenly, inexplicably... there was no answer. . . . “My name is… is... I- I know this, I-” Jin fumbled for words, trying again in English. “[i][My name is-][/i]” - "FOREIGNER!" Jin was eleven; standing in front of a middle school class, picking at the hem of her uniform skirt and praying to any god, American, Japanese or otherwise, to kill her in this moment. The teacher had introduced her as a transfer student. That wasn’t really true – Jin had attended elementary school even if she hadn’t been present for the whole of it. But her looks alone marked her as other. There was no escaping it. Flustered by the mistake, Jin had panicked and reverted to English when introducing herself. “[i][Hello, my name is- no, wait… um…][/i] My name, my name is-” And then the laughing started. It was not the first time Jin had been called “gaijin”. It would not be the last. But this one hurt, because of how quickly it was echoed, in endless reverb and stereo, surrounding her. She had no allies, no help, everyone was an enemy… - “I don’t know. What name do you want? The name here? The name back home? Do you want it in Japanese? English? What about the name when I was little, after... my parents...” - "Luna! Luna, we got a hot one." She was eight, small and starving, and looking at a fat man with a hopefully fatter wallet. She could see the liquor in his step, and knew stealing from him would be easy. That was good - if she didn't steal, she didn't get her share of food. Tonight's lookout was Ice, which was cool. She was an older girl, but they always got along decent. "I see him, Ice. Shit, he could pay our take for a month. I see a watch too. Need it?" "Nah, Luna, don't bother. Sometimes they look shiny, but they're fake as hell beneath the paint. Don't risk yourself for anything but a sure shot, 'kay?" "Kay." The man stumbled closer, belched, leaned on the brick like he wished it was his bed. "There's your opening. Go." Luna went. - "I mean, no one calls me that name here. I left that name and that life behind. Mostly." Aside from the occasional konbini lift to keep their hands sharp, Jin hadn't stolen anything from anyone personally in years. "The only other name is the one my parents gave me..." - "Jinny? ...Jinny? Jinayah?" Jinayah was five, snuggled up in her favorite pink blanket, and watching her favorite movie again. Her daddy had been calling, but she'd been too busy humming the Totoro song to pay attention. Her father came in and scooped her into his strong arms, blanket and all, before taking her place on the bed. Jinny snuggled up to him happily. "Hi daddy. You missed the song! You want me to play it again?" Her father chuckled, his rich deep laugh that always made her feel safe, and Okaachan all pink-faced. "No, sweetheart. You've got to get ready for bed. Don't you remember? Your mother and I promised you we would go skating once the first snow hit, and look." He picked her up and went to the window, pushing aside the curtain to reveal the first snow. Fat flakes drifting against the night sky like a thousand falling stars. "Ooooh... YAY!!" Jinny pressed her small hands to the cold glass and grinned. "I'm gonna go sledding, and build a snowman, and we can have hot cocoa, and a snowball fight and-" "Settle down, sweetie, settle. That's tomorrow. You can't get to tomorrow unless you go to bed." "OH! Right." Jin wiggled her way out of her father's arms and darted to her dresser, pulling out her pajamas and putting them on with surprising speed. She dashed over the pile of clothes on the floor (and pretended she didn't see her father's mild look of disapproval) before going to brush her teeth. "Daddy?" "Yes, Jinny?" "I get sad when the snow melts and spring comes. But we can do it next year, right?" "Of course, sweetheart. Every year." "Promise?" "Promise." -- Jin was crying, and the tears hurt worse than everything else. "Which name do you want? Which one? I've got a half dozen names and none of them matter! Which one do you want me to be, huh?"