"Yeah. You can eat it later if you don't want it now." Heiji took the frying pan, put a little oil in it, and turned on the stove. Which didn't light up right away, so he put his hand to the burner. A brief bloom of blue flame licked at the bottom of the pan before settling back into the comfortable ring of a cooking fire. Someone not watching carefully would never have known what he'd done.

His Japanese was markedly different from Heiji's, though no one who didn't speak the language would have heard the difference -- a sort of lilting cadence with dramatic highs and lows.