riverview | text (un: natsume.t)

[ Worried about saying the wrong thing to her. Unbelievable. Anderson can't remember the last time someone's cared about that-- okay, she can, but it's painful to think about, goes back to why she smiles so warmly at a photograph of dead people and at no one else.

Abruptly, she wants to make sure someone is looking out for this person. It is her reason, they weren't wrong about that, and what if no one is? It would be all too easy for someone this kind and forthcoming to get taken advantage of. ]

You haven't said anything wrong. It's [ ... It's what? Sweet? It is sweet, but Anderson isn't the type of person who calls anyone sweet. ] considerate of you to reassure me. Most people don't.

By the way, my name is Cassandra Anderson. [ First name given unprompted. Congratulations. ]

[Well, that's a relief. Natsume strives to be considerate in most things, at least, especially to people who treat him well—and this is just a first conversation, and an odd one at that (Natsume isn't used to texting, doesn't have a phone or that sort of thing at home), but this person has treated him well. So he's glad to hear it, a reassurance in turn, but he's not sure how to address it.

He may have shed a lot of his socially awkward stilt, but some of it lingers, and so in the end he decides not to address it at all. Instead...]

I'm Natsume.

[Natsume "T", if his username is anything to go by. It's not secrecy, just the way he's used to being called; "Takashi" is used only by caretakers, really.

Also, there's the fact he hasn't been exposed much to Western names and dealings.]

Sorry, but do I call you Mr. or Ms.? I've never heard your name before.

[ She understands completely about the name. It'll really weird her out the first time her first name gets used.

Anderson doesn't mind at all if he's socially awkward. It doesn't bother her, just makes her more sure that he could be easily taken advantage of. ] Nice to meet you, Natsume.

My title is Judge. [ Judges are supposed to lose individual identity when they become part of the system. Not that she's ever been good at that. ] But people who know me usually just use Anderson.

[So, a judge ("Judge"??!?), which sounds important. Natsume doesn't know a lot about those sorts of things—just what goes on in his world, at least, as he knows absolutely nothing of hers—but it's the type of thing that commands respect, isn't it? And here she is, so kind to him. It's humbling.

But he doesn't know if he counts as "knowing" her; he's more afraid of being presumptuous than anything else in this situation.]

It's nice to meet you. Is Judge Anderson okay?

[ Important... that's one way of putting it. Definitely that.

It surprises her how much it means to have one single person address her by the correct title. Anderson had thought so many times that she'd never get here, never get to keep her badge, that she'd fail. It's not lack of self-esteem, it's reality: she has failed, many times. And the title itself is still new enough that it means something to her to hear it, or in this case, see it.

She swallows before answering carefully. ] Nice to meet you, too. Yeah. That's how I'm addressed at home. And you're just Natsume? [ If he's going to be so considerate, the least she can do is return it. ]

Yeah, most of the time
My name is Takashi

[He's thinking back to English class, and the ways other people look at and use names. This person probably has a different view on them, so it's best to explain, and...]

My family name is Natsume, that's what most people call me. It's mostly just my [...] guardians who call me Takashi.

Natsume is okay. Thank you, Judge Anderson.

[ Okay, now she just feels like a bully for it. Moment of internal validation happened, and is gone. She smiles faintly at her keyboard, a little embarrassed. She also appreciates the name explanation-- she has very little recognition of Japanese names.

She also assesses his age range downward for sure if he still has guardians, and it prompts her to add something else to her response: ]

Yeah. No one's called me Cassandra in years. But you don't have to use my title, Natsume. I hope if something happens while you're here, you'll let me know. I signed on with the police.

[He had gotten that, at the beginning, from his guardians, the Fujiwaras. He still gets it, even. You know you can tell us things, right? If something happens, will you say it? Oh, of course, of course—the requisite reassurances. And then Natsume comes stumbling home, covered in mud and raspberried elbows, waving it off like nothing more than daily shenanigans.

Of course, nearly being eaten by monsters is a daily shenanigan for him, but... you know.

To him, the logical move is to treat this much the same.]

Thanks. Hopefully nothing happens, right?

Hopefully. But something usually does.

Just let me do my job, alright?

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