Juri's relief that they were going to have fish for lunch faded when she saw the breaded and deep fried pieces put onto her plate with more western potato things. She collected some salad vegetables and fruit and a large pile of napkins. Maybe under all this breading there was a real fish.

The nurse was able to seat her quite easily with no protests, because Juri was paying far more attention to her tray than her surroundings. When she sat, she didn't smile at the older man nearby. She tried to think of something scathing, mostly to keep in practice, but then she shrugged.

"I'm willing to bet that you're not Japanese," she said. It never occurred to Juri that her red hair and blue eyes would make nearly everyone think she wasn't either. It wasn't ethnicity that made one Japanese, it was culture.