Two hearts, two languages; Love is the endgame.

Uma was an Afghan refugee on the streets of New York City. Armed with no more than the clothes she could salvage, four diamonds from her father in case of extreme emergency, and her mother tongue. She was lost, in more ways than one. Komiko was a foreign exchange student from Japan, sent by his parents to study at NYU. It was not what he wanted to do, but more so what was expected of him. Over the year that he had been here, he hadn't really amassed any friends, besides those he shared a dorm with in the exchange program. His English was sometimes spotty at best, but at least he wasn't completely alone.

One night, leaving a late study session at the library, Komiko decided to stop at what was known throughout most of the city as a bodega. In search of an American snack that he could actually eat, and not spit out in horror like most others he'd tasted. Having decided on a few snacks, he paid and left. Walking back to his dorm room on the darkened streets, the sound of crying caught him by surprise. Turning down the alley from which the sound came, he saw a woman, covered in beautiful garments in eye catching colors. Not wanting to startle her, he kneeled a few feet away. “Miss.. Miss, are you alright?” He asked in his own heavy accent. Hearing the voice, Uma looked up at the man, not understanding the words he spoke, but more than anything, she understood the light of kindness in his eyes. She stood, as did the stranger. The two came closer to one another and Komiko held out his hand, surprise reflected on his features when the woman placed her hand in his. Collecting her belongings, he lead her out onto the street. Knowing he couldn't return to his dorm with her, he decided a motel room was probably best.

Having already requested a room, he waited for the clerk to return with the key. The woman's hand still clasped in his. He studied her. She kept her eyes low, not making eye contact with the male clerk, nor himself for that matter. Her hair was covered, and her loose garments flowed freely to the ground, not even her feet were visible. Her face was bare of any makeup, unlike most of the girls he knew at school. And her hands were painted in some sort of design. She was beautiful. The two spent the night together. Only because once Komiko tried to leave, Uma burst into tears. “What is your name?” He asked, gently putting a finger to her chest. Her eyes lit, trying to understand his words. She couldn't make sense of it, but decided to tell him her name, just because. “Uma,” she said, her eyes lowering to the bed on which they sat. Uma, he thought to himself. He couldn't love her already, could he? His mind wasn't sure, but his heart knew, he would protect her with everything he had, she was his Uma, now and forever more.