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Picture Credits: Screengrab
Till Our Lives Burn Out
Chapter 5- Modi Vivendi
(Part 1a)
Epigraph:
“It’s amazing. You look like a normal person
but actually you are the angel of death.”
- Sally Albright, When Harry Met Sally
“Kuryakin-sensei?”
“Haaa-yee?”
“How come you’re not … afraid of me?”
“Afraid of you? A strange question. Why should I be afraid of you?”
They had been discussing Germany and the two World Wars in Europe. The Teacher’s curiously dispassionate yet very opinionated “This is what I think” take: it was the worst case of “going to war too late” he’d ever seen. The First World War was ready to break out at any point since the late 1880s. The level of carnage was a backhanded tribute to the skill of the diplomats in keeping that war at bay for as long as they did. For example, it wouldn't have happened if Germany had gone to war with France over the Moroccan Crisis of 1905. It would have meant a replay of the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, but nothing more. Unfortunately, the best efforts of the diplomats made sure it happened with all sides roughly at parity- the optimum time to guarantee the most hideous bloodbath possible. Hoping to forestall the conflict, they tied the nations of Europe with diplomatic cords that would then drag nearly every major power into the war. Europe could have survived easily with pre-First World War Germany as the big dog on the continent. Hotaru had questioned this, and Kuryakin pointed out that one measure was how the same Jewish scientists who helped the Allies win World War Two, sat World War One out comfortably in Berlin or even fought for Germany. He agreed with the old joke that “Hitler would have won World War II if he’d had the Jews on his side.” Clearly though, Second World War Germany was a monster that had to be destroyed at any cost. Germany would fight the First World War under the banner of a nationalist Christianity no less virulent than that under which France and Cardinal Richelieu fought the first Thirty Years War; “God” had “let Germany down” and they lost. They would fight the Second World War under the banner of revived “Blut und Erde (Blood and Earth / Soil)” Paganism. Thus World War I marked the beginning of Europe’s second Thirty Years War (1914-1945), and was the moment Europe, which he had explained to Hotaru as a patchwork of invading tribes civilized by Christianity, finally revealed a fundamental flaw. “I agree with Baron Wilhelm von Schoen,” Kuryakin said, “the German ambassador in Paris, who appended to the formal declaration of war: ‘C’est le suicide de l’Europe’ - this is Europe’s suicide. World War II was the twitching of the body.”
History was where it was at with this student, and he could connect nearly any subject to that and make it interesting for her. Her mind was so sharpened by this time -though whether his pedagogical method had anything to do with it was up for grabs- that she could assimilate facts with ease. Rote learning, where necessary, was a toss off for her now, a warm up, a gathering of raw materials for the real education. More and more she seemed to ask for his ‘learned opinions’ about such matters as the jumping off point for her own researches. While she began filling out a review sheet and making note cards for what they had discussed so far, he had gone to get her a snack. When he came back, she was … different.
The Cold Look, which hadn’t put in any appearances since that first day, was back. She had not frozen this time, and he wasn’t sure whether that was good, bad or indifferent. Perhaps the talk of war and ‘continental, civilizational suicide’ had done it. She had said before she was fascinated by the “fall of kingdoms / civilizations.” He set the snack aside, grabbed a chair to sit right in front of her, and began watching her with intense interest. She followed all of his movements with similar, if icy, interest. There was something very feral in this look, and something that said, ‘this is very much a part of the real me, of who I really am.’
“What do you mean, afraid of you, Hotaru-chan?”
Her eyes narrowed, even more. After looking at her for a moment, he decided she was inviting him to explore. Perhaps this was her way of finding out if someone cared enough.
“Do you mean the … look in your eyes, right now?”
There was a slight change in the corners of her tiny mouth. He took that to mean he had hit close to the mark.
“I am a little afraid of you. Or afraid for you. Hotaru-chan, is there something you’d like to tell me? You can, if you think it won’t run afoul of Miss Meioh’s rule about prying.”
“I wonder why she was so insistent on that?” Cold Look Hotaru said, sounding bored and put upon, yet subtly angry too. “All she did was make you more aware. What do you fear, Kuryakin-sensei?” she said, in a lazy way that suggested she’d almost forgotten to add the ‘sensei’ part.
The moment had arrived. This would be his best chance to see into the deepest parts of this girl’s heart. Laying Setsuna Meioh’s 'no prying’ rule aside, he peered deeply into those icy eyes.
“What do you fear, Hotaru-chan?”
“I asked first,” she said, quite threateningly, and looking even angrier.
“Are you trying to find out what I’m made of, Hotaru-chan?”
‘Possibly,’ her stare indicated.
“I’m afraid,” he all but whispered, “that an amazing girl … has a problem that I’m not going to be able to figure out, and help her solve.” He got a little closer. There was no change in her expression, but something changed. A bit at least.
“What are you afraid of, Hotaru-chan?”
“Imperfection.”
Kuryakin now realized he was not exactly dealing with the student he’d been teaching the last three months. He wasn’t quite sure who he was dealing with, but it was not, exactly, her. It wasn’t quite The Three Faces of Hotaru, but it was close, and something like the feel of a power, weighty and ancient, descended on the room. That Kuryakin felt it wasn’t unusual; that he had a pretty good idea of its nature was. It wasn’t quite true that The Cold Look hadn’t put in an appearance lately. There were times when the look on her face was close to this. When she worked on her cloisonné vase, her gaze, usually a happily busy look, sometimes became one of intense concentration so pure in sheer calculation, it could pass for serene. The warp and woof of her artwork was being scrutinized, judged - ruthlessly. A few times, she said she’d nearly gotten it wrong and requested – almost demanded - that he give her a way to practice the needed technique so that she would not mess up on the real thing.
“Imperfection and Perfection are tricky words, Hotaru-chan,” Kuraykin said carefully and deliberately. “What does ‘imperfect’ mean to you?”
“It is … failure of desire. The desire to thrive. The desire to live. And failure to care. Failure to seek … the best in all things.”
“Very interesting, Kuryakin said, looking thoughtful. “Most people think ‘perfection’ means ‘no mistakes.’ But you know what it really means. Perfect really means ‘mature’, ‘fully grown’, ‘fully realized’.”
“You do understand,” said Cold Look Hotaru. “I wonder how.”
“I wasn’t always so … perfect,” he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and in spite of The Look, she did seem about to laugh.
“I have noticed that you burn yourself very evenly. I like your shine, Kuryakin-sensei. You thrive.”
“I find myself … relieved … to hear you say that,” he smiled. ‘Who are you, kid?’ he wondered, and pondered this for a minute, then asked, “Hotaru-chan, what … happens, if you find something … imperfect?”
“It depends on how imperfect it is.”
“Most people would say, ‘who are you to judge?’ But you, right now, look like you have authority in the matter.” Then something occurred to him. “Were you looking at the dolphins like this, that first time we were at the Dolphinarium?” he asked.
“They … worried me. Some of them didn’t seem to desire life so much. But you brought them around.”
“Is this part of why you are so intrigued by the fall of a kingdom or a civilization?”
Silence.
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘the destroyer of the invalid old?’”
“No,” she said, still looking cold as dry ice, but suddenly very interested.
“It’s a … line I use in a lecture I give. As a matter of fact, I’m giving that lecture for an evening seminar at K.O. University this Wednesday. Remember what I said about Reality, and making yourself vulnerable through love?”
She said nothing, but again there was some kind of change in her.
“Okay. ‘This is what I think’ …”
“You don’t need to say that any more,” she outright commanded him, and ferocity returned to the stare that had softened just a bit.
“Okay,” he smiled. “In every age, in every place and every time, there comes a test and a judgement. Sometimes the tests are small, individual tests. Sometime they involve whole groups, and sometimes, the whole world. Most people have to live their lives in the well worn ruts of existence. That’s the way it should be, but it can have a dulling effect, and thus they think what they see is what is, but in fact, underneath it all is a storm and stress of emotions and thoughts, and these things build into a critical mass, and manifest themselves ultimately in civilizational trajectories. The reason for these tests is that judgement must come. And that’s because history really is going some where.”
The Cold Look vanished like a fog when the sun had gotten too high, and now she looked like someone dying of thirst in a desert suddenly spotting signs of water.
“Is it?” she whispered excitedly. “Where is it going? Does it ever end?”
The question ‘Who are you?’ burned again in Kuryakin’s mind, and then it hit him. That thing he noticed about her the first day, and every day since - the thing he could see this very moment- suddenly made some sense. She really was testing him. Fair enough. Maybe she wanted to know if he would still like her even knowing there was this side of her. Perhaps it meant that she was comfortable enough with him now to show, intentionally, a little of the self she hid sometimes behind shyness and moodiness, and sometimes behind a look that would have done justice to a statue of Kali or Shiva. This was something he wanted to see because he cared for her very much. It was also something he needed to see to fulfill his ‘contract’ with Miss Meioh and the Kittens. He now felt his chances were better than ever at figuring out why she had frozen up during those tests. Somehow, this was part of it.
“Hotaru-chan, before I give you my answer to that question, do you remember … how you were looking at me, just now?”
“Yes, Kuryakin-sensei,” she said, sounding a little disappointed that he needed to ask. “I remember everything that happens to me, when I’m like that. I’m not crazy or anything. I used to think I was, but I know now it’s …”
“It’s what?”
“A part of me that just … comes out sometimes.”
“Any idea what causes it to … come out, as you say?”
“Stressful situations, sometimes,” she smiled, like someone very much with a secret.
“I think I understand you better now, Hotaru-chan.”
“And you really aren’t afraid of me.”
“No. If I was at all, I don’t think I will be any more. Do you know why?” he asked rhetorically. “Because the opposite of fear … is love. Do you understand me?”
She smiled and nodded.
“I will never be afraid of you.”
She smiled then ventured tentatively, “So … will it ever end?”
“Yes.”
He paused.
“And no. Now then,” he said tapping the open notebook in front of her, “with Russia plunged into revolution, the Eastern Front was no longer a concern and Germany had a brief window of opportunity to press its advantage on the Western Front. If they could break through before the American entry into the war began to tell on the battlefield …”
5b. Vague-aries
In the two weeks since her birthday party, Setsuna had tried to put the vague feeling of ‘a line being crossed’ by Hotaru’s tutor into clear and concise words. She had not yet been able to do so. Instead, she settled into an uneasy feeling summed up by the question “am I losing her to … him?” It was a very strange thought, even paranoid, and she felt almost guilty about having it. Her tutor was obviously a fine individual, competent –to put it mildly, generous, and really quite charming in a way. Propinquity alone meant that Hotaru would develop a rapport with him. She should have foreseen that, and in fact, objectively it was desirable that Hotaru get along with and be obedient to her teacher. However, in the discussion between herself, Haruka and Michiru about Miyuki Mayamura’s advice to seek out Mr. Kuryakin’s assistance, she had been the most resistant to the idea. Forced to put her reasons for that into words, her main worry was that in a one-on-one setting, it was entirely possible that Hotaru might accidentally divulge something about her ‘extracurricular’ persona and activities. It was a fair enough concern, for the Senshi depended a great deal on anonymity and hiding within a crowd to keep their identities and activities hidden from the general public. If it hadn’t been for the crush of coursework Setsuna fully expected from this term, she would have vetoed the idea and undertaken to spend more time with Hotaru, even further educating herself in the relevant disciplines needed to round out Hotaru’s education, where needed.
She had also resisted the idea because her finances were actually quite strained these days. Setsuna had never known her parents, and her one attempt to find out what was known about them hit a wall at once. She had been left anonymously on the doorstep-as it were, and upon awakening to her Senshi powers, found in them good cause to wonder if she’d ever had parents in the conventional sense. The one thing she was sure of: some one had left her a modest inheritance. She had never made any serious attempt to find out where it came from until her eighteenth birthday. She had not known about it at all until her eighth birthday, when she fully realized that a remote, rural orphanage outside Kagoshima in Southern Japan was not the usual way to raise children. She did become curious about who her benefactor was, but was not of the temperament to look a gift horse in the mouth. As an adult, her single attempt to find out the source led her to a courthouse in Nagano, but she could get no further because the documents were sealed. It was a considerable monthly sum, scrupulously managed by the orphanage, and it increased a little as she aged, but only to a certain point. The amount was adequate to give her a good childhood, and a good education through high school, though as she got older her needs increased, her tastes became more refined, and the money seemed less and less. Whoever had left it to her obviously expected she’d grow up to take care of herself one day. She would be back on a much surer financial footing once she got her degree, but that was still more than two years off. She withheld this knowledge from Haruka and Michiru only because Miyuki-chan had mentioned that Kuryakin took his client’s circumstances into account, and she thought it best to play that by ear. The extent of Kuryakin’s generosity in the matter was unexpected and very welcome to her. If he had charged much more than he did, Setsuna would have found it necessary to explain her constrained circumstances to Michiru and Haruka, and then see if they were willing to foot more than an even three way share in the expense. She was so grateful at the moment that it did not occur to her just how little they were paying. Only after a little research, and in light of all the activities Hotaru was enjoying under Kuryakin-san’s tutelage, did she realize he was almost doing it for free. From there she began yet again, to puzzle over Kuryakin’s motives and his general uniqueness, and for the first time she wondered if he wasn’t trying to … ‘take’ Hotaru from her. Like so many of the thoughts Setsuna had about the man, this one really made no sense. Its silliness was apparent to Setsuna most of the time and she dismissed it as an odd paranoia brought on by the stress of her coursework this year. Yet, the thought persisted, and every now and then demanded a fresh hearing.
The solution to this part of the problem had come a few days ago, when she’d gotten a message from someone at Haruka and Michiru’s school, Funabashi Academy, requesting a meeting with her about Hotaru’s future education.
“I am Manabu Yanagimoto, the Academic Dean here. Please, sit down, Miss Meioh,” said a stocky man of medium height standing behind his desk, appreciatively eyeing the woman who has just been shown into his office.
“Thank you,” she said very decorously, as she sat in the chair.
“Well, I’ll get right to the point,” he said.
“I appreciate that,” Setsuna replied.
“We have heard about Miss Tomoe’s stellar performance on her recent tests, and we would like to offer her a full scholarship to this academy.”
“Indeed?” said Setsuna, sounding pleasantly surprised, though wary. “How did you find out? Did Haruka or Michiru tell you?”
“No, we did not hear about that from Miss Tenoh or Miss Kaioh. We are aware that they know Miss Tomoe. You share a house with them, I believe?”
“Yes,” said Setsuna, feeling even more wary now.
“Well, we keep our ear to the ground, Miss Meioh. We are always on the look out for promising students, and the woman who proctored Miss Tomoe’s tests is a former graduate of our academy and she mentioned it to us. She was very surprised at the level of the tests young Miss Tomoe was taking, but that was nothing compared to her – and our- astonishment at how well she did on them.”
“I see. At present, Hotaru has a private teacher.”
“Yes, Peter Kuryakin. We are familiar with him, and his excellent reputation. I’ve tried a few times to lure some of his students here, but have never quite succeeded. We realize that Miss Tomoe is in good hands, but private teachers are very expensive, are they not?”
Setsuna nodded. “Well, I am pleased to hear of your offer, though I find your backdoor ways of finding things out a bit unprofessional.”
“Miss Meioh,” Yanagimoto replied, feeling the pressure of Setsuna’s jaundiced gaze, “I do apologize if we seem to have pried a little, but competition for good students is very fierce and we feel we have a lot to offer Miss Tomoe. We can begin her college level education while providing her with a social setting of similar aged students. In some cases, she would even have classes with Miss Tenoh and Miss Kaioh …”
“Yes, I do see the advantages of this,” said Setsuna pensively. “This would be a full scholarship then?”
“Yes, everything would be covered: classes, books, materials, school uniforms, tutors, her own personal laptop – we always have the latest and best in technology, and so forth. And I would imagine that she would ride to and fro with Miss Tenoh and Miss Kaioh.”
“Yes, yes,” said Setsuna, warming to the idea for various reasons. “Well,” she said after further thought, “Haruka, Michiru and I make decisions for Hotaru together. We’ll need to talk about this, and talk to Hotaru as well. How long do we have to decide?”
“We would prefer to hear from you as soon as possible of course, but in this case there is no hurry. There is one little condition though.”
“Yes?”
“As long as Miss Tomoe does as well on her final exams as she did on her midterms, I will be able to justify any reasonable delay in your decision.“
“I see,” said Setsuna, wariness creeping back into her voice. “Hotaru has already demonstrated her intelligence. May I ask why the offer is contingent on her doing well on her final exams?”
“We are aware of Miss Tomoe’s … little problem.”
“How?”
“Again, the proctor mentioned that she had a private teacher because of testing anxiety. Besides, the incidents at her public school are on record.”
The breaches of privacy and decorum on display here were very upsetting to Setsuna, but still the offer was worth considering. It might be the solution to her “problem.” When Kuryakin had finished with Hotaru, there would be no further need of his services. That was the plan anyway, although at the price he was asking, it might have been worth considering having him teach Hotaru for another term or two, especially considering how much Hotaru enjoyed lessons, and how well she had done under his tutelage. But with all that had happened lately, Setsuna was thinking it would be best if they and Kuryakin-san parted company on a very firm and permanent basis as soon as possible. She thanked the dean, promised to discuss this with Haruka and Michiru, and left, glad for the offer, but also glad to be leaving. As promised, Setsuna discussed the matter with Haruka and Michiru that evening, and they were all for it, assuming Kuryakin succeeded at all points in his obligation. Setsuna was for it regardless but made no mention of her reasons. They also decided that it would be best not to discuss it with Hotaru at this time.
5c. Smoking Guns
“Hotaru-chan?” Kuryakin called from his office as she bounded through the door of the studio the next day. “I’m in my office. Come here, I have a present for you.”
Hotaru had passed by his office many times but had never actually been in it. It was subdued with a lot of browns and deep reds in the décor and the furniture. Sitting on the dark cherry wood desk was a plastic sack. Inside were three boxes. “These are for you,” he said, as she opened the boxes and pulled out a stethoscope and two blood pressure cuffs, one for adults and one for children. Hotaru beamed.
“Now, Nurse Tomoe, let me take off my jacket, and roll up my sleeve,” he said, “and I’ll teach you how to take someone’s blood pressure.”
He explained the procedure, the proper placement of the cuff, about the need to use the right cuff relative to the individual, how she needed to supinate the hand to bring the brachial artery to the surface at the elbow, about palpating the artery before inflating the cuff, and about the nature of the Korotkoff Sounds. She put the adult cuff on his arm, and within a few tries, understood the procedure completely. Kuryakin-san’s blood pressure came in at 112 over 44, with a resting heart rate of 34 bpms.
“That’s … very healthy, isn’t it?” she said, after looking at the chart that came with the cuff. “Except your resting heart rate suggests you’re dying.”
“Heh, no,” he smiled. “I’m in shape, I am. Lots of endurance training. Check the athlete chart.”
“So in athletes the heart gets larger, but it’s a good thing, not a bad thing as it is with sedentary people. Well, 34 is good, but not a record, Kuryakin-sensei,” Hotaru said, haughtily.
“Now let’s take your blood pressure,” he smiled. Hotaru became immediately shy.
“You’re always so bashful when it comes to your own health. I think you’re going to have a very good B/P. Take your sweater off and put your arm out.”
Her B/P came in at 104 over 58 with a resting heart rate of 62 bpm.
“Now, check your chart.”
Hotaru looked, and smiled.
“You see? You’re not bad at all. Okay, let’s put these away. Oh, and part of your homework tonight is to take the B/P of everyone at your house in time for Thursday’s lesson and … wait a minute.”
Hotaru was quiet, and Kuryakin appeared to be listening for something.
“What’s that sound?” he said, walking toward the door. She could hear it now. It sounded like water spraying from a hose. “Uh oh,” Kuryakin called from down the hall, as she poked her head around the door. “I’ve got a busted pipe and it’s flooding the music room. I’ve got to shut off the water. Stay there, Hotaru-chan.”
He ran outside, and a few seconds later the sounds of the water stopped, and then she heard someone moving around under the floor. A few minutes later he came back in, his shirt and pants stained with dirt. “Well, I’ll have to go clean up in there. Are you all ready for today’s lessons?”
“Yes, Kuryakin-sensei,” she smiled.
“Okay, there’s a big puddle between you and the Blue Room. Just stay right here and maybe browse through a book or something. There are some good history texts over there on my bookshelf. Pick out anything you want. I’ll be done in a bit.”
She went over to the bookshelf and started looking at the titles. Some of them she recognized, though his were nice hard cover editions with crisp leather covers and gold foil writing. Others she did not recognize, but they had very impressive sounding titles. She was about to pull out a book called “Out of Revolution” when she noticed a book at the far end that had not been pushed in all the way. It had an old dingy leather binding and no title. She got it out and it looked like an old fashioned copy book of the sort an 18th century college student might have carried. She opened it up and the slight, musty smell of age met her nose, but that must have come from the cover because the pages looked like modern paper. She noticed some catches at the top and realized this was a refillable notebook. She sat down on the couch and began leafing through it. The first few pages were blank, but then she reached what must have been a title page. It said “Letters to Thérèse.” They were journal entries in the form of letters, apparently in her tutor’s own hand, and in numerous languages. Apparently, he used this ritual to keep up with his language studies. ‘Yes, of course, he is always teaching,’ she thought as she looked at page after page of neatly written letters in multiple languages. ‘Even himself- and that’s only fair after all.’
The early letters picked up about thirteen years ago. This was puzzling because thirteen years ago, Kuryakin would have been very, very young, she thought. Yet the letters spoke of renting houses, some time spent in South America, and in Europe, things one would have to be an adult to do. ‘He must be a bit older than he looks,’ thought Hotaru. It was fun reading about her teacher, but the first really interesting letter came about halfway into the book, right after he’d gotten to Japan. It mentioned Ami Mizuno … and her mother. Hotaru’s eyes grew wide with interest. He and Saeko Mizuno had a few “outings” together. These occurred after Ami was no longer a student of his, and while he didn’t call them ‘dates,’ he was worried that Ami would find out. That was why they only went out a few times. It was at this point that Hotaru realized this was a very private book and one she should not be reading. She closed it and started to put it back, but he had said she could read anything on this bookshelf. He couldn’t have meant this one though, yet, curiosity immediately overwhelmed her; there was something she wanted to check. If these were letters to someone about his time here, then maybe he had written something about her, … and “The Kittens,” … and Setsuna! ‘Hmmm!’ she thought to herself. There was no way she wasn’t going to read these now. She opened the book again, and leafed through it, until she saw some very long entries about someone named “S.”
S. nearly had a relapse today, but after four months with him, I am beginning to understand the conflicts that have threatened to lock him up inside … confronting mortality is never easy, and usually one does not have to face that dragon until a bit a later in life, but he’s so ferociously logical and sees it so inevitably, it has come to trouble him early … that’s only the half of it. He has a good grasp on the crises that currently beset his country and what may happen in the short and long term future. The dragon of personal mortality is mean enough, in this place where life is so short. The dragon of cultural and ethnic mortality is an even tougher one to face … Sixty years ago, he would have been made an excellent kamikaze pilot. That option is not open to him today, thank God … If only I can get him to see what a waste it would be if he threw away his gifts and didn’t use them to help his people. I will carefully try to drill it into his head any way I can: “If death is coming, don’t let it end like this!” … Kindness is everything. Kindness is eternal.
Hotaru looked up, as the sounds of a wet/dry vacuum could be heard sucking up water. She started reading again, and later letters seemed to indicate that “S.” was getting his act together. In amongst those were even longer entries about someone named “N.”
“N. found out her aunt has been preventing her adoption. For her sake, I talked with her aunt today. Didn’t go well. Said she didn’t appreciate a ‘gaijin’ meddling in her affairs and threatened to call the authorities. Probably an idle threat, but that is something I must avoid, of course. It looks like it’s all up to me. Not giving up. Don’t know how to anyway. I never lose!”
An entry from two weeks later was even more interesting:
“N. went missing today. Sent the others home. Used every means to find her. Got to her in time -barely- and took her to Juuban Secondary … Dr. M. has been a godsend. She admitted her with out any fuss. I can’t do that anywhere else. She is going to try to get her some counseling. Sheer quackery, but I’m so desperate at this point, I’ll try anything. N.’s aunt has been no help. I called her to tell her what happened and she said that N.’s mother was a bad woman, and N. was an ‘evil seed’ who was just getting what she deserved. I don’t know her frustrations or circumstances very well, but it’s hard not to be angry with her just now. How can people do that to each other? Alas, I know that too well, but what a dark, oppressive place this can be … If everyone got what they deserved, there’d be no one left …
The sounds of the shop vacuum stopped, and she could hear Kuryakin wringing out a mop into a bucket. She read a little faster now.
I wonder if I have been too hard on N.? I thought I was taking the right approach, but now I fear it’s been all guesswork up to this point. I wish she could tell me. There is so much anger and frustration in her heart. Who can blame her? She just can’t catch a break. As well, she may have feelings for me, which I cannot, of course, return. That is always a danger in these mixed settings. I’ve been very clear about that and proper at all times, but that may have exacerbated the problem. This is a classic attempt to ‘get attention.’ Strange how the problem and the solution can be so intimately bound together. I wish someone of her own gender had stepped up and taken her in. I may be both the cause of the problem and yet, it appears, the only one who will ever care.
I’m losing this one, and it’s breaking my heart. I don’t know what to do. I haven’t felt this lost since … that terrible day. You made me everything I am today. I miss you.”
She heard some more clattering down the hallway. She was running out of time, and this really was something she really shouldn’t be reading even if she did ‘have permission,’ but before putting it away, she quickly checked two things: first, he was consistent in writing no less than twice a week. Then she looked at the last entry; it was dated two days before he met them. There was plenty of room for further entries, and there weren’t any after the day he met … her. None at all, nothing but blank pages as she flipped all the way through to the back of the book. Then suddenly –so suddenly it almost startled her- there as a short entry on the last page. She heard more clattering down the hall and the sound of some fans being turned on. It was time to put the book away, but as she closed it, she saw the following in her own language:
“I’m sorry, Thérèse. Forgive me. Please.”
Kuryakin returned to the office, dressed in a sweat suit with quite a few wet spots on it.
“Well, Hotaru-chan, let’s go get started on the lessons.”
Hotaru pondered these revelations as they walked back to the Blue Room. Thérèse. Who was she? A lover? A wife? From some of the letters, it sounded like someone he’d lost a very long time ago. She couldn’t have been his mother. Mothers were dear of course, but that wasn’t how one spoke of them. A beloved sister? That didn’t work either. Whoever she was, she was very important to him, but meeting Setsuna seemed to have stopped the letters cold and precipitated that last “forgive me.” She smiled. It had to be that; it just had to; it couldn’t be anything else. That he hadn’t mentioned anything about them after steadily writing in this journal constituted a proof more elegant than if he’d written in plain romanji “I love you, Setsuna Meioh ...”
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