When she received the boy, she understood that he was her man. Her owner. Her husband by contract. She had accepted it before and the result was the happiest one, and Mrs. Keika had instructed her. The former translator in Indochina, she was now translating other things, and for her, a child woman, it felt like a wedding and it was. He was tender and gentle with her. He was kind and she was just the son of the almighty lord....
The photographs of the war taught her that the Japanese were ugly, coarse. This Japanese boy was different. A beautiful, delicate, precious boy. They loved each other amidst laughter and tears. They learned to kiss each other like in American movies and without understanding each other, they realized that they were in great danger, because they were falling
