| |
Picture Credits:
Till Our Lives Burn Out
Chapter 5- Modi Vivendi
(Part 4b)
… That business about dinner with her professor aside, he was reasonably sure she didn’t have anyone. A woman like that? If she didn’t have someone, it must be because she didn’t want anyone. The idea that she was secretly pining for someone seemed a very remote possibility. Who could say ‘no’ to her? In any case, he was now driven to find out everything he could, as soon as he could. He was in love with her, and whatever happened now, this was the central fact of his existence. For good or ill or both, it would determine a great deal of his life, possibly for decades to come. “Courtship is not a romantic comedy,” he had once told one of his students who asked him –of all people! – for advice on pursuing a girl. “The stakes are too great. Finding the right mate in life is a high drama that should keep us on the edge of our seats.” His words always had a way of coming back to haunt him. This was eating him up, and he couldn’t deny it anymore.
Even if he could win her heart, such a relationship might cause problems back home. His situation had always been unique, though. It probably wouldn’t be that big a deal, as long as he was prepared to accept certain consequences. That was the least of his worries. For some reason it was going to be difficult to just talk to her. Their last conversation had been anything but normal. He had barely been able to contain the things he most wanted to say to her. It wasn’t easy considering she was flicking her hair off her face every minute or so, which drove him wild, and precipitated that last, subtly salacious remark. He shouldn’t have said that. She didn’t seem to know what, exactly, he’d meant, but … it was rather crude of him. Ah well, he thought, should he be so singularly fortunate that she was willing, should the longed for relationship flower and bloom, the chips could fall where they may where all these things were concerned.
Definitely in a bad way to be thinking like that, though.
He was almost done fulfilling his responsibility to Hotaru. Once that was done, he would act.
Setsuna sat on her bed brushing out her hair, a process that lasted about twenty minutes, was relaxing and gave her time to evaluate the day. On the whole, her prayers for a return to stability were answered. Her life was settling back down. Switching mentors had been a good idea. In the two weeks since agreeing to it, Dr. Genda reintroduced the element of accountability and objectivity back into her college career. He ‘had her back’ where her former mentor was concerned. Her day at Juuban Elementary was easy enough today. Other than the usual duty of making sure kids with prescription medications got their pills on time, there were just two kids with fevers that had to be sent home. The weather had turned colder, and the kids stayed inside more. One little boy who was playing volleyball got smacked in the face, but needed nothing more than a little TLC from the pretty school nurse while his nose stopped bleeding. A very quiet day, for which Nurse Meioh was very grateful.
When she got home that afternoon, she finished making the modifications to Miyuki Mayamura’s wedding gown. It was a lovely dress, and she had used it to create patterns that she might use in the future. The idea of a wedding made her think back, wistfully, to that chance meeting with Mamoru Chiba a few weeks ago. She had not seen him there since, and if she remembered correctly, the job he had ended today. She thought about trying to ‘accidentally’ bump into him on the job, but she could not think of a plausible stratagem, and … it was all no good anyway. It was fun to think about, but she would never, ever act on it. But why? Why did it all have to come out this way? Was the real reason she was alone because it was inconceivable that anyone could ever understand the real her, or meet her where she was in all her isolation? Only once in all her lonely days was the meaning of her life clearly reflected in the eyes of another, and it was only in her death that he had seen the her that loved him so. The mild depressed look on her face deepened. She had the hardest duty of all the Senshi. It was hard because it was so important, and she had done it well. Yet, now, it felt like something long past, something empty, and that emptiness was creeping into this new life at every point. There was just no point in thinking about this, though.
She turned her thoughts to Kuryakin-san and his offer to tell her all, once Hotaru passed her finals. That strange indolence where “puzzling him out” was concerned had returned since their last ‘meeting.’ She was still mildly curious about him, even to the point of wondering what he would be doing next now that he was done with private tutoring. Now that it looked as if he would not be anything for her to worry about much longer, she pondered whether it might be for the best if she never heard the name again, much less saw him. Hotaru would not like that of course, but she would get over it in time. Dr. Mizuno mentioned she wanted Kuryakin to fill in that gap of a father in Ami’s life, if only a little. She realized that is exactly how Hotaru may be starting to see him. It was understandable, but not good. Oh, how much she had enjoyed raising baby Hotaru. There were times where she almost, uncharacteristically, wept for the joy of it. It was the one real, unmistakable solace in her present life. But they had not been enough. The realities of Hotaru’s individuality, the complexities of her being, as a girl and a magical Senshi, had broken out of the box in which they all would have longed to keep her, and now she’d come into contact with someone who drew her out in ways that they had never been able to accomplish. She ‘wanted Hotaru back.’ She didn’t want to believe Kuryakin-san had intended to come between her and Hotaru. He was simply the means by which that end had been achieved. This time where she, and Haruka and Michiru were solely responsible for the life in their care was the happiest thing she’d ever known. She, the one person who knew that change was the one constant, wanted everything back the way it was.
‘Yes,’ she thought. ‘He has, unintentionally perhaps, been part of the problem in my life lately. We are best rid of him.’
In the midst of thinking about Hotaru and her tutor, something strange and out of the blue occurred to her. She remembered his little crack about ‘having her own dissociative problem.’ The remark had hit home better than he knew; Setsuna was struck by how ... chaotic her mind seemed when she pondered certain subjects. Now she realized, she could not remember one dream she’d had in the last four months. It was as odd as the thing itself that she had only just noticed this. Dreams were one way all the Senshi anticipated crises. It was all the more troubling, because she had no idea whether she was having them and forgetting, or not having them at all. She tried very hard to see if she was mistaken, if she could recall just one dream. She could not. This was troubling, indeed, and the more she thought on it, the more worried she became.
When Hotaru had started crying on the way home, she explained to Michiru –with Haruka listening in as best she could- that she had been inexplicably overwhelmed with thoughts of her father, Soichi Tomoe: thoughts from before the time of the accident, before he was driven mad with grief over the horrifying death of his wife and the horrible injuries to his daughter: thoughts of when she was part of a family and had a normal life. Always prescient, Michiru understood this was about her teacher as much as it was about anything else, and asked if she had come to see Kuryakin-sensei as a sort of father.
She did not answer except to say that she had realized today, more than ever, that one of most special times in her life was coming to an end. In so many ways, Hotaru was a very proper girl. Any such thoughts were banished by the realization that her real father, though he did terrible things, was not so much an evil man as a tragic one. She would never dishonor the memory of when her father was a good man by seeking a substitute. Calling Haruka her “poppa” was real enough, but also a bit of satire, even child’s play. In the functionalist sense, Haruka did everything she could fill that role, and did it as well as any tomboy could have. Up until now that ameliorated any desire for something that was more of a father in essence. For that, Haruka had been perfect. Yet, as she sat silently, not answering Michiru’s question, she admitted to herself that is what had happened. She felt quite a bit guilty about it. The words ‘forgive me, papa,’ went round and round in her head. Never before in her few years had she longed this much for her life to have been a different story. She loved her new family very much, but there was always a sense that in one respect they had to ‘adopt’ her. She was one of them: the most deadly one of them all. In that regard, it was prudent. Most of the time it made no difference; she loved them as if they’d freely chosen to take her in without any compulsion whatsoever. But this night, in the late fall with the sun already hanging low on the horizon, and the angle of its rays giving light, but less and less heat, it did matter a little.
She told Michiru that no outsider had ever so freely accepted her and understood her the way Kuryakin-sensei had. He knew about the more troubling aspects of her personality, possibly even intuited a bit of her dreadful powers of destruction as a Sailor Senshi, and was utterly unafraid. She was amazed over these last few months to realize just how much, and how carefully, he had thought about her, the unique and very special Hotaru Tomoe. Somehow, that occasionally dour, hyper-intelligent, intimidating man thought her a subject worthy the most lengthy and careful thought and consideration. By that, he had imparted to her a sense of worth such as she had never, ever known. Behind his intimidating presence, by his every action, the man had revealed to her a heart of softest velvet. There was a seriousness, even a moral seriousness, to the man. It was pleasant, steady and sure. He could be very playful, but nothing about him was frivolous. He had, somehow, the moral right to instruct, and did so with authority. By taking her seriously, he had charmed her. She cared for him, and for what happened to him, very much.
Now as she sat in her bed, she squarely faced that the greatest time she’d ever had in her whole troubled existence was coming to an end. She had fallen, stumbled, tripped over a veritable heaven of learning and purpose. She loved the tumbledown look, the feel, even the very smell of the old building in which her tutor lived. She began understand as never before what it meant for Sailor Senshi form to manifest itself, and begin the work of destruction. Yes, it led to rebirth, but what of those caught on the wrong side of it? She understood now what it was like to have something precious to lose. This was complicated by the near certainty that her teacher was in love with Setsuna. Even before she’d seen the letters, there was simply no ignoring it anymore. What would happen now? Was it to die too, that thing unto itself, that came into the room with him, and disappeared when he focused on her - because it was directed at her- and then came back when his focus shifted? Should she do something?
If she decided to, she owed it to everyone involved to think long and hard about why she had become so interested in how her tutor felt about Setsuna, and why she was hoping Setsuna felt the same. The more she came to love him, the more she wanted him and her together. In her deepest soul, she longed for it with a vehemence she had only just understood. Was it that she wanted her Setsuna-momma to have someone, to be rewarded for all her long service, and her beauty of character?
Yes, that was part of it.
Did it have something to do with her cataleptic episodes?
And there it was. The naked question was before her, and she knew now. She knew the answer instantly, as though she’d always known it. She was completely convinced Setsuna’s behavior was a mask for a curiously inadmissible affection she was just sure she felt for him. Setsuna was “in denial,” and given her absolute devotion to her duty, to “the group,” she would, she was almost sure, push him away as soon as possible. Hotaru had seen the signs of this, mixed in with the nearly unmistakable, though very Setsuna-esque, flirting. She saw him as a threat and “to what” didn’t matter. She had to ask herself “does she really need anyone?” It was when she asked this question and considered the strong probability that the answer was “No,” that the sense of foreboding that preceded and followed her freeze ups would creep into view at the fringes of her mind, like the forelegs of a spider emerging slightly from its hiding place at the first ticklings of the fly on its web. Somewhere in her mind, a voice murmured just below the level of conscious thought: No situation is completely hopeless. There is always something you can do. Even if it is nothing more than a whispered prayer. Think about it. Do something about it.
Her mind was made up. She set her alarm to make sure she was awake before anyone else. For good, ill or both, she was going to do something.
And so began the real story.
Till Our Lives Burn Out
Chapter 6 – This Is How We Fight
(Part 1a)
Epigraph:
“I have a cunning plan …”
– Baldrick, Blackadder
Hotaru’s alarm clock went off as programmed and now she lay awake rehearsing the plan she had crafted last night. It was, she thought, rather simple, perfect, even elegant. It was a Tuesday. Setsuna-momma would have the easiest time staying home today. She had done so before, a few times, since she had only two classes, neither of which required attendance as part of the grade. The only worry was if she had anything planned for later. Hotaru wasn’t too worried about that because Setsuna was nothing if not predictable. Yet, people had a way of becoming unpredictable at the wrong moment. In any case, Setsuna was a nurse who was used to children faking illnesses. She would really have to sell it. Around seven o’clock she could hear the stirrings that meant Haruka and Michiru had awakened. Setsuna was much quieter and one did not hear her doing anything, but she was so regular in her routine, Hotaru knew she would be up and most likely showering just now. It was time to set the stage. She got out of bed and ran around the room quietly but energetically, until she’d managed to work up a sweat. This took about ten minutes. Then she went to bed and got into character. Right on cue, about five minutes later, Setsuna poked her head in.
“Hotaru, it is time to arise.”
“Ohhh,” she moaned listlessly.
Setsuna came over. “Hotaru, what is wrong?”
“Ohhh, I don’t feel good,” she said groggily.
“You are warm and perspiring,” said Setsuna as she put a hand to her forehead. “Were you febrile during the night?”
“I was starting to feel bad yesterday and I guess … maybe so.”
“Well, I shall need to take your temperature,” Setsuna said, as she left the room and went downstairs. She got out her special, under-the-tongue digital thermometer from the cabinet and came back up. Michiru was just coming down.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Hotaru seems to have a fever.”
“Ah,” she said, “Well, I’ll start breakfast.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Setsuna came back in and Hotaru opened her mouth. Nurse Meioh put the probe under her tongue. Fifteen seconds later, the machine beeped and registered a temp of 37.6 C.
“Hmmm,” said Setsuna, “you do seem to have a low grade fever. Well, I shall bring you an antipyretic, and you shall breakfast in bed.”
‘So far, so good,’ thought Hotaru as Setsuna headed back downstairs, though she was hoping for a little bit more dramatic temperature reading.
Michiru was cooking up some eggs as Haruka sat down and Setsuna told them Hotaru seemed to be a bit sick.
“I hope we don’t need to cancel her lessons today,” said Haruka, as she sipped some coffee.
“Her finals are tomorrow,” said Michiru. “This is a bad time for her to get sick.”
“She should have breakfast in bed and then we shall see if she is better. I would hate to have to postpone those finals,” Setsuna frowned, thinking about how Funabashi Academy needed to know as soon as possible if she’d passed and if they were going to accept that scholarship. In the back of her mind, as well, was the thought that she really wanted to be done with this tutoring stuff as well.
“But we want her to shine, not just pass,” said Haruka, “and even if she can get through the written stuff, she may fail her physical fitness test if she’s not 100 percent.”
Michiru got out a tray to take Hotaru’s breakfast up to her. As she finished up the cooking, she remembered yesterday’s conversation with Hotaru on the way home from lessons and started to get a funny feeling. Hotaru hadn’t been sick even once this fall. Maybe she was due, but yesterday she seemed fine physically, if not emotionally. She got out a second tray and said, “I’ll sit with her while she eats.”
“Good. And give her this,” said Setsuna, and handed her a paper medicine cup with a Tylenol gel cap in it.
“What do you think of those?” asked Michiru. The American brand had only recently become available in Japan.
“It is what I use at Juuban Elementary. I find them effective and, so far, they seem to be safe for children.”
“Hmmm. I’ll take her breakfast up, then.”
Hotaru kept a watchful eye from the top of the stairs. Michiru-momma was coming. She got back into bed quickly. Michiru came in quietly a few moments later.
“Hotaru, your breakfast is here.”
“Thank you, Michiru-momma,” she said meekly.
“Think nothing of it, princess,” she said, as she felt Hotaru’s head. “Your fever seems to be down at least. All the same, I guess we’ll have to cancel lessons today.”
“I guess so,” she said as she sat up to eat breakfast, and Michiru got a chair from the corner and sat down in it next to the bed.
“Remember to drink all your fluids now.”
“Ha-yee,” she said and took a mousy little sip of her orange juice. “Y’know,” she said a minute later, “maybe Mister Kuryakin could come here so I could review for tomorrow?”
‘Aha!’ thought Michiru. ‘Now what could she be up to?’ She waited until Hotaru had taken a long pull of her orange juice and then reached for the thermometer and said, “Let’s take your temperature again, shall we?”
“Oh, but Michiru-momma, you shouldn’t take someone’s temperature after they’ve had something cold to drink. It’ll skew the results.”
“Ah! That’s right, and come to think of it,” said Michiru, as she held up the plastic cup of still warm water that was hidden at the back of the bottom shelf on Hotaru’s night stand, “you shouldn’t take someone’s temperature right after they’ve had something hot to drink either. Hotaru? No tricks work on my mirror. Don’t make me get it out.”
Hotaru’s façade collapsed at once.
“Michiru–momma, please,” she said, her eyes big and pleading. “I just want to give him a chance to tell her how he feels. I know he will come.”
“Oho,” she smiled, “so that’s what you’re up to? I was wondering if something like this would happen eventually. I’m surprised that Setsuna fell for such an old trick. I’m going to chalk this up to how much she has on her mind these days, and the fact that you generally never try to deceive us. So, are you trying to play matchmaker here?”
She said nothing, but looked embarrassed.
“Hotaru, there is already one thing you obviously haven’t thought of: what if Mister Kuryakin decides to postpone the tests until you’re … better?”
Hotaru’s expression plummeted, and hit bottom. That is surely what he would do.
“This is so cute,” Michiru giggled. “Hotaru, you are a terribly bright young lady, but deviousness is a frame of mind, not a mere matter of brilliance. Let’s talk this through. There are probably a few other holes in your plan. You need expert advice.”
“You mean you’ll help me?”
“First of all, you’re going to tell me everything you’ve seen and everything about why you believe you need to do this. Start talking.”
Hotaru sighed. She was now going to have to say verbally, to someone else, what made capital sense in her own thoughts last night. She wondered desperately whether it would fly or not. Then she calmed herself and began, recounting nearly every instance in which she thought Setsuna had revealed herself. The list was long; the accounting, exhaustive. Michiru (and Haruka) had noticed a few of these things too, but Michiru sat in wonder, trying to figure out which was more amazing: the number of things Hotaru noticed about Setsuna's behavior, or that she could remember them all. Heavens, their little Hime-chan was bright.
“And have you noticed,” she asked, getting down to the more basic reasons, “that whenever they’re together and he’s not looking at her, she can’t take her eyes off of him?”
“Yes,” Michiru replied, “I did notice a bit of that, when she first saw him. It has happened more than that?”
“Every time they’re together. From the first day.”
“And she doesn’t really notice she’s doing it?” Michiru asked, looking amused.
“Not at all.”
“And she … talks to him, in ways she doesn’t even talk to us. At length, and she’s interested in what he is saying. And the way she hums little songs after the phone calls. She seems almost … happy.”
“Well,” said Michiru, very impressed, “from all that, yes, I would say it’s a fair guess she feels something for him. And you’re sure he’s in love with her?”
Hotaru nearly snorted orange juice through her nose at that, and then she told Michiru about ‘the book she should not have read.’
“And you’re certain it was meeting us, and Setsuna specifically, that made him stop writing in that journal?”
“Well, he had written in it at least twice a week until then, and there was plenty of paper left.”
“Interesting. Thérèse, eh? I wonder who she is. Or was.”
“Me, too. But the more I think about it, it had to have been a lover or a wife. The way he wrote little things to her at the end of his entries, nothing else fits.”
“All right,” said Michiru, in summary, “she may like him, he may like her, but why are you …”
“He doesn’t just like her," she interrupted, "he loves her …”
“Did he tell you this?”
“No, and there’s the problem. He’s too proper to do anything that might seem like taking advantage of a situation.”
Michiru remembered the importance he placed on trust and agreed that was probably true.
“So you feel he needs a little encouragement. Permission, as it were, to express himself to her.”
“More or less,” Hotaru replied.
“Why do you feel the need to bring them together yourself? Surely, he’s brave enough to show himself in his own time, and strong enough to take whatever happens. If he’s not, well, he doesn’t deserve her anyway. And why today of all days? If you’re right, as soon as you pass your finals, his obligation to us will be completed and he’ll be free to try and sweep Setsuna off her feet. He’ll know what your grades are by Friday. Why can’t this wait until then?”
“Because today she still has to let him in the house. Friday, she won’t,” Hotaru replied. “I think if he doesn’t get a chance now, he won’t have one. Setsuna-momma is very good at pushing away anyone who tries to get close to her in that way. And she’ll run from this. She’ll feel it’s her duty to.”
Michiru knew that was a real possibility. “Hotaru,” she said, “you make it sound as if they have to get together…” For a moment, The Look flashed into Hotaru’s eyes, and Michiru caught it though it passed as quickly as it came. “You think this has something to do with your episodes, don’t you?”
“It might,” said Hotaru. When Hotaru started seeing things, it was important for the other Outer Senshi to listen. Too, there was what Michiru saw in her mirror on that first day.
“You still can’t recall if you are seeing anything at those times?”
“No. I am trying to remember. I’ve got to remember, but …”
“All right,” said Michiru. “There are some things you should understand before we proceed – if I decide to go along, that is. Setsuna has that duty because she’s strong enough to handle it. She’s honored to have it. Humbled, too. And she’s done it so well. Also, I’ll admit she’s still quite a mystery to all of us, but there are things that, apparently, you don’t know about her at all.”
“Like what?”
“I really don’t feel I should say,” Michiru said, evasively. “I’m just warning you that this matchmaking of yours could go very badly and you should be prepared for that. You’re obviously hoping for this to work, pulling for him, as it were. You’re a very bright young lady, but you haven’t realized what you’re asking of Setsuna, and who knows what you’re asking of him. I like the man, and if it weren’t for … well, a lot of things, you might be right. He might be wonderful for her, if anyone could be. But why does she have to have anyone?”
“She doesn’t, of course,” said Hotaru, sounding a bit defeated. “But why can’t she? Is there some rule against it? Some taboo no one told me about? If I hadn’t noticed all those things, I wouldn’t think of doing this. But she smiles a little more now. She makes jokes now and then, and they’re funny, and she’s so full of love … I like her this way … I like seeing her happy.”
“You’re sweet, dear Hotaru,” she said, “but remember, ours are unique circumstances.”
“Yes, Michiru-momma,” Hotaru shot back, “we’re the mighty Outer Planet Senshi. We carry the whole world on our shoulders. We need nothing. And yet sometimes we do.”
Michiru chuckled. “This is awfully cute of you, but be careful here. I reiterate; remember who and what we are. The Inner Planet Senshi can have their innocent dreams of romance. It’s a different and more troubled story with us.”
“Yes, but just think if it works!” Hotaru said excitedly.
Michiru smiled and sighed, “I see. Your hopes for yourself are very much bound up in your hopes for her, aren’t they?”
Hotaru smiled. Yes, she had to admit, that was part of it.
“Okay, but fair warning,” said Michiru, “You’re stepping on to the field of a very rough game. In Setsuna’s case, it could be a minefield. People get hurt in this game, deeply and often.”
“Please?”
“Are you prepared for the outcome should things go badly?”
“I’m … prepared to see if that’s what happens.”
“I’m not sure that’s good enough, but you’re probably right about her pushing him away as soon as possible, and I’m curious to see what happens myself,” Michiru said as she collected the empty dishes. “Now, here’s what we’ll do …”
Michiru told Hotaru the what and when of her plan, and made sure Hotaru understood the timing of it.
“This isn’t like that video you did,” she warned. “There’ll be no retakes on this. Now, if you do everything right, he might even be able to stay for dinner.”
“Ooo, how?”
“Well, Haruka and I are going to that recital tonight, but I don’t think Setsuna knows that yet. So, I’ll keep Haruka quiet. Setsuna will start dinner around four, so we’ll call around 4:45 because we 'just suddenly remembered that recital is tonight.' That’ll be your cue to suggest that Kuryakin-san stay for dinner, so be ready. And don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. From either of them. They're both very strong personalities. You'll have to be prepared to push them.”
“Ha-yeee!”
“And let’s keep that fever going just a bit longer.”
She went and got Hotaru a cup of hot water – as hot as she could stand to drink. Hotaru took several swallows, and then they took her temp, which came in at a little more robust 37.9 C.
“Now, that’s just in case Setsuna checks, because those things have a ‘recall last temp’ feature on them. Oh, and take this.”
Hotaru downed the gel cap with the rest of her orange juice, and handed the empty glass to Michiru.
“Wait, what … should I do after dinner starts?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she’ll probably just make polite conversation then clam up.”
“Okay,” said Michiru “you need to think of something that will help Setsuna to loosen up, maybe. Casually mention her hobbies to Mister Kuryakin, like that dress she just finished. Maybe bring up something about physics or astronomy, or maybe that lecture of his. Setsuna had very strong objections to that. Try to get them talking that way. Setsuna can be a wonderful conversationalist when the subject interests her.”
“This is good stuff,” said Hotaru. “Anything else?”
“Well, as a last resort you might even risk – risk, I say- bringing up something that is … maybe a little embarrassing. Something that might make her seem less than perfect.”
“Less than perfect? Why?”
“She might show a little of herself if you make her a little vulnerable. Too much and you’ll embarrass her in front of someone - which wouldn’t do, but if you choose carefully, it can be very effective.”
‘Vulnerable?’ Hotaru got a very sly grin on her face. ‘If I can just find one …’ “You’re very knowledgeable about this sort of thing, Michiru-momma.”
“Well, Haruka and I play these kinds of games often. I win, of course.”
“What about Kuryakin-sensei postponing the finals?” Hotaru whispered quickly.
“Leave him to me,” said Michiru with a smile, as she left the room.
“Mosh’, mosh’,” a groggy Peter Kuryakin said into his cell phone. “Kuryakin des’.”
“Mister Kuryakin, Michiru Kaioh,” replied Michiru. She was thinking she needed to time this just right, but then got a better idea. She would present the whole affair as a fait accompli to Setsuna.
“Ah, Miss Kaioh, how are you this morning?”
“Very well, thank you. And yourself?”
“Oh, hanging in there, I guess. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“Well, there’s a little problem. Hotaru is not feeling well this morning,” she said.
“Oh. What seems to be wrong?”
“Well, personally, I think she’s a bit tired.”
“I see. Well, the schedule I use pushed her pretty hard, but she’s almost to the end of this. She’ll have three whole months to rest up.”
“She also had a low grade fever this morning.”
“Hmm. Perhaps the change of seasons is affecting her a bit?” Kuryakin suggested. “I can postpone the finals. Shall I go ahead and do that?”
“Mister Kuryakin,” said Michiru slyly, “have you ever heard of a ‘24 hour bug’?”
“Of course.”
“Well, this is a six hour bug. I think Hotaru will be just fine by this afternoon.”
“Uh huh. Is that your expert opinion, Dr. Kaioh?”
“Indeed, and furthermore if you could see you way to coming here, oh, say around two, I think she’ll be ready to review for her tests. I would imagine she’ll be able to get in about three hours or so.”
“Miss Kaioh? I’m … not sure I understand what’s happening here.”
“Mister Kuryakin, do you remember that little discussion we had about trust?”
“Indeed, Miss Kaioh. Every word of it.”
“Be here at 2:00.”
“Well, …”
“It shouldn’t be any bother. Setsuna will be here. All day. To take care of her.”
“Uh huh,” he said, a noticeable change in his voice. “Well, if she’s not able to come here, I will need to swing by there to drop off that special breakfast I want her to eat tomorrow before the tests.”
“There you go,” said Michiru sweetly.
“You’re sure she’ll be … fine, tomorrow?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Okay," he chuckled, "2:00 it is, then. Good day, Miss Kaioh.”
“Good day, Mister Kuryakin.” ‘And good luck,’ she thought as she closed her phone.
“What is this now?” Kuryakin said to his reflection in the mirror.
“How is she feeling?” asked Haruka, as Michiru came back into the dining room.
“A bit better,” said Michiru, “but I took her temperature again, and she still has a mild fever. Setsuna, would you be able to stay with her today? We both have tests this morning.”
Haruka looked alarmed, as though she didn’t know anything about having a test today, but Michiru waved her off.
“Yes, there is plenty for me to do around here,” Setsuna replied. “I have already informed Juuban Elementary and my assistant will be able to take over my time today.”
“Ah,” said Haruka. “I can imagine student morale is going to drop through the floor at the news.”
“Yes,” sighed Michiru wistfully, “It’ll be a ..."
(Word Limit Reached)
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Work
from Stories
|
|
Welcome !
