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Picture Credits: Screengrab
Till Our Lives Burn Out
Chapter 6 – This Is How We Fight
(Part 1b)
… “Yes, there is plenty for me to do around here,” Setsuna replied. “I have already informed Juuban Elementary. 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 sad sight. All those little boys at recess, throwing themselves off the monkey bars. Sayonara, cruel world.”
“You two, no doubt, think you are joking,” Setsuna said with a spontaneous and rather sexy shaking out of her long hair. “Shall we cancel the lessons then?”
“Actually, I’ve already called Mister Kuryakin,” replied Michiru, saying no more than she had to.
“And is he going to postpone the finals?”
“He said he’d wait till a little later in the day to see how Hotaru is doing,” Michiru replied, as she sat down next to Haruka. “We’ll come home for lunch and decide then.”
“Very well,” said Setsuna. “I shall have some salads ready for you. And what are your plans for this evening?”
“We …” Haruka began only to be overridden by Michiru “… will be home by five.”
‘Oh?’ Haruka looked quizzically at Michiru and then nearly choked on her coffee as Michiru elbowed her.
“Are you all right, Haruka?” asked Setsuna turning around.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Haruka, and after Setsuna got back to washing up the dishes, Michiru mouthed ‘later’ to her puzzled lover.
Setsuna got to work on a sort of home remedy for Hotaru as Haruka and Michiru headed out the door. With the cooler weather, Haruka’s silver Maserati Quattroport was the car of choice for this time of the year. Michiru explained what was up as they drove to Funabashi Academy. Haruka asked why she went along with it, and Michiru explained she was interested to see what happened.
“And you think that guy has a pretty good chance with her?”
“Haruka, sometime have Hotaru tell you everything she’s seen in the last four months. We only saw the tip of the iceberg.”
“Hmm. Are we taking bets on this one?”
Later that morning, Peter Kuryakin was putting this unexpected free time to good use. He was in a shack behind his studio which served as the garage for his ‘unique fixer-upper’ automotive restoration project. Over at his studio, four movers were loading up the heavier items among his personal things – the furniture in his sitting room, the heavier equipment in his machine shop, and similar items, into moving vans for transportation to a storage facility. As they worked, they heard the high, whiny pitch of an engine coming to life and ‘getting tweaked’. It was a sound that completely belied the size and weight of the car it powered. Around 11:30, he emerged in stained overalls, went into the studio, cleaned up and then stood looking at his modest wardrobe, thinking about what to wear. This strange invitation to The Kittens’ house made him wonder if something was up, and whether he should wear something extra nice. He pulled out his black tuxedo with the silver herringbone vest, tie, and cummerbund, then chuckled and said “overkill” as he put it back, and got out a charcoal gray sport coat, slacks and a black pullover shirt.
At the home of the Outer Planet Senshi, there was one close call that morning. Hotaru had spotted something she might need tonight, and ran out of the house to get it, showing a great deal more vigor and initiative than a sick kid ought to have. She made it back under her covers just as Setsuna came up the stairs with a warm bowl of special broth. Nothing so far indicated Setsuna had become at all suspicious. At noon, Haruka and Michiru came home to eat a quick lunch, and to see how their precious kitten was faring - in her plans, that is. Hotaru, on cue, said she felt a whole lot better. She credited Setsuna-momma’s home remedy so effusively she got a ‘don’t overdo it’ look from Michiru-momma. The Kittens finished their lunch, and that was her cue for the next part: Hotaru wondered aloud if maybe Mister Kuryakin could come to the house for a few hours of review. Setsuna perked up and then looked a bit nervous and possibly a tiny bit suspicious.
“I do not think …” she started to say.
“Good idea, I’ll call him,” interrupted Michiru. He was already coming, so after faking a bit of conversation, she asked Hotaru, “Think you can go for three hours?”
Hotaru nodded vigorously.
“Yes, three hours will be fine. Thank you, so much,” she said and then closed her phone. “He’ll be here at two. Let’s get back to classes, Haruka.”
Hotaru smiled as Setsuna’s very bewildered eyes followed Haruka and Michiru’s hasty departure. Her smile widened when Setsuna began checking her appearance, and then headed purposively up the stairs.
‘This was a bit of a bother,’ she thought, twenty minutes later, as she was sitting in front of her vanity deciding what lipstick to wear.
“Setsuna-momma, what are you doing?” asked Hotaru, as she poked her head into the bedroom. “There’s no reason to get dressed up or anything.”
“Hotaru, if someone is coming over, I must at least be presentable.”
“Setsuna-momma,” she said, “if you were unconscious on the floor in a burlap sack, you’d still be more presentable than most people at their best.” Then she turned to leave, and added “But, use the pink.” Setsuna blinked at the retreating figure of Hotaru.
‘Pink, eh?’
Well, it did match the top she’d just put on. Ten minutes later, Setsuna was sitting at the dining room table typing on her laptop and dressed better-than-casual, while Hotaru, still in her pajamas, sat wrapped in a blanket watching TV. At 1:59 (and 24 seconds), Setsuna heard the sound of a vehicle parking out in front of the house. Thirty-six seconds later, there was a heavy but hesitant knocking. Hotaru jumped up to answer the door, and Setsuna was content to let her.
Kuryakin stood outside, looking furtively around. He could feel there was something going on, but couldn’t imagine what. He half expected a bunch of people to jump out and yell “Surprise!” His birthday wasn’t until the end of the month, so unless somebody had the wrong idea, he could think of no reason for whatever game was afoot.
“Konnichi wa, Hotaru-chan,” he said as the door opened.
“Konnichi wa, Kuryakin-sensei,” she replied, looking very happy to see him.
“Well, then,” he said as he glanced around looking for clues to what was up, “Shall we review in the living room like the last time?”
“Ha-yee!” said Hotaru with an approving nod. There was no wall between the TV room and the dining area in their house, so Setsuna would be able to watch him all afternoon, if she wanted. To Kuryakin, the most obvious thing so far was that Hotaru wasn’t the least bit sick, and this put him even more on guard. He entered the house and took of note of Setsuna sitting at dining room table –and the way this room seemed to be quite a bit warmer than the hallway. Dear God, she was a lovely woman, and the way the light of the dining room silhouetted her, and the light from her laptop screen put a soft glow on her face, she looked almost ethereal. This wasn’t going to be easy, but he accepted it as a personal challenge to make it look that way.
“Good afternoon, Mister Kuryakin,” she said, quite indifferently and without looking up.
“And to you Miss Meioh. I hope this isn’t a bother to you?”
“Not at all. And do not mind me. I am working on my term paper.”
It was an interesting three hours. Setsuna finally got to see what The Kittens had seen on the trip to the dolphinarium. He actually hadn’t intended to push Hotaru very hard today, but as they went through the rapid recall sessions and essay question practices, she was amazed at how much he was cramming into their time together. Hotaru was exceptional and, obviously, that helped, but Setsuna found herself wondering if this worked on a less gifted student. A few minutes later, they took a bathroom break, and before she could think better of it, she got his attention to ask him.
“Very impressive,” she said. “How effective is this method with others?”
“Well,” he said, pleasantly surprised that she was speaking to him, “one of my teachers used to tell me ‘you can’t fix stupid,’”- she nearly laughed at that, he was sure of it- “but personally I find people can do more than they think they can, and I figure if one shoots for the stars, they’ll at least reach the treetops. No student of mine has ever given me reason to doubt that- though some have tried. There is a difference between a student who can read War and Peace, and one who, say, reads manga all day, but there’s a far greater difference between having some semiotic capacity and having none at all. A lot of the time, it’s a matter of finding a student’s … angle. With Hotaru, for example, it’s world history.”
“Hmm,” she said. Indifference was creeping back into her expression, but she had asked nonetheless. Hotaru had heard the voices, though she could not hear what they were saying, and hope it boded well for the rest of her agenda. In spite of the fact that Setsuna was watching the proceedings in the living room, she did manage to vet and enhance a section of her term paper. She read through it once, satisfied it was perfect - for now, and then she noticed the light was beginning to fade outside. Haruka and Michiru would be home soon, and it was time to start dinner. As she closed her eyes and stretched, the thought came briefly into her head that, since he was here, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to ask Mister Kuryakin’s opinion on the passage she’d just finished. She got it out of her head in an even briefer time.
At 4:47, as the smells of a traditional Japanese dinner drifted through the room and Kuryakin was packing up his equipment, the phone rang. He was good at spotting when people were nervous, and the moment it rang, Hotaru tensed up. He knew at once this call was … expected. Setsuna answered it. After a minute of listening, “I see. We shall see you later then” was all she said.
Hotaru cleared her throat. “Setsuna-momma, who was that?”
“Oh, Michiru just called,” she said. “They forgot they have a recital to attend tonight, so they will not be home for dinner.”
Hotaru looked at Kuryakin-sensei and the look on his face said ‘I get it now.’
‘He is quick,’ she thought. Hotaru was quick too, and Kuryakin’s eyes got very wide as she ran over to Setsuna, and with the biggest eyes and the sweetest voice, asked, “Setsuna-momma, since you have all this extra food, can Kuryakin-sensei stay for dinner?”
It was interesting watching her tutor’s face, with a goofily shocked expression on it, run through every shade of red imaginable.
Chapter 6 – This Is How We Fight
(Part 2)
6a. Guess Whose Coming To Dinner
Hotaru sat at the dinner table looking very smug. Periodically she would look at Kuryakin-sensei, sitting at the end with his arms crossed with an expression at once nervous and jaundiced, and smile at him. He sat there puzzling out the extent of this conspiracy. It was possible Hotaru had conceived this little plan out of kindness, just throwing the two of them together and seeing what happened, but by her oh-so-pleasant, “boy, did we yank you around today” smile, it was impossible to conclude otherwise than that she knew exactly how he felt about her Setsuna-momma. Princess Kitten was obviously involved; therefore, by default, Tomboy Kitten was too, and whether she was indifferent or hostile to the idea wouldn’t have mattered much. Miss Meioh accepted the idea with surprising ease, and Kuryakin was left wondering if she’d been a part of this plan. He doubted it though, as she seemed … nervous … distracted … what was it? What Setsuna was thinking was anyone’s guess. The aplomb with which she agreed to this sudden imposition had surprised Hotaru no less than Kuryakin. Perhaps letting him stay for dinner was merely an obvious solution to the problem that she had more food than she now needed. Finally the moment Kuryakin had been waiting for came; Miss Meioh left the kitchen, and he rose as she left, prompting a puzzled look from her before she headed down the hall. He sat back down, and then a minute or so later, she could be heard starting a load of laundry down the hall. He was going to speak, but then decided it would be a bad idea to be heard talking this over with Hotaru, lest Miss Meioh not be involved and come to believe he had actively conspired to bring this about. Instead, he got out a marker, reached for the napkin next to Hotaru’s plate, and began writing.
‘How did you know?’
Hotaru read it and then rolled her eyes as if to say “oh, puh-lease”.
“I was that obvious?” he whispered very quietly. Hotaru nodded. It was a bit of a lie. Had she not read his journal, she wouldn’t have been nearly so sure. Setsuna, who moved very quietly, was suddenly at the threshold of the dining room, and Hotaru quickly snatched up the incriminating napkin, dabbed her mouth with it and crumpled it up. Setsuna might have caught that, but she was distracted by the way Kuryakin quickly stood up, as he did every time she entered or left the room. It was very ‘old school’ polite of him, and cute, Hotaru thought. He was, it seemed, a true gentleman - in old sense, not just someone who avoids bad manners, but a true gallant. Hotaru had read about them in books, and though she lived in what was possibly the most courteous nation on earth, there were still times when she had good cause to wonder if such creatures existed anymore. She found it charming. She was pretty sure that Setsuna even smiled, once she realized he was trying to be attentive to her. It had been a long time since Setsuna had seen such manners in anyone –with one notable exception. She was about ready to begin serving, when she remembered that it was time to add fabric softener to the load of laundry. When he rose again, she turned and smiled. “Mister Kuryakin, that is very kind of you,” she said, “but not necessary. It is a bit … startling.”
“Oh. I happen to think it’s very necessary, but there are times when good manners can become bad manners. I’ll try to stop.”
Hotaru was very sure Setsuna was smiling as she headed down the hall. She looked at him, amused at the well trained puppy look on his face, made all the more fun by his size and intimidating presence. Then he sighed and quickly whispered, “Hotaru-chan, I never said anything. I would never … How did you …,” but this whispering tailed into a tense silence as Setsuna could be heard returning. She came back in and he started to rise again, then caught himself. He sighed, dropped his gaze in embarrassment, and raised his hands placatively as if to say “I’m good. I’m sitting down now. I’m good.” As she had the day she surreptitiously watched the recording of his performance for the NHK Philharmonic, Setsuna couldn’t help but take note that his hands were very nice, like those she had once noticed as she watched with fascination long ago when a carpenter came to repair rain damage to a wall in her room at her orphanage.
‘An odd thing to remember,’ she thought, as she began serving dinner.
The evening’s meal was hayasi rice with mushroom tempura, and a choice of three sauces in dipping bowls. Hotaru, who tended to avoid greasy foods -even something so lightly greasy as tempura- was given a side dish of soba noodles to dip. Dinner began in a tense silence that neither of them seemed willing to break, so, with what she hoped was a careful feel for timing, Hotaru attempted to jump start a conversation.
“Setsuna-momma?”
“Yes, Hotaru?”
“How is your term paper coming?”
“Fairly well, I think,” Setsuna replied, careful to keep her eyes on her food. She was never one to volunteer much in a conversation, and she certainly wasn’t going to with a stranger at the table. Hotaru looked at Kuryakin, and nodded her head toward Setsuna as if to say “talk to her.” He cleared his throat.
“If I may ask, Miss Meioh, what is your paper about?”
“Oh,” she said, sounding like she’d nearly forgotten he was there, “nothing special.” Kuryakin looked at Hotaru and shrugged a little, as if he didn’t expect any real response on her part. Hotaru couldn’t tell if Setsuna was indifferent to any questioning or distracted by something, or possibly she’d realized how she been maneuvered and was subtly angry about it. In fact, she was distracted. Kuryakin’s presence in their house somehow brought to mind the quandary over her lack of dreaming in the last few months. She noticed that it coincided with the time period during which Kuryakin-san was tutoring Hotaru, but didn’t really know what to make of that. Hotaru’s eyes pleaded with Kuryakin to try ‘pushing things’ a little.
“For ‘nothing special’, Miss Meioh, you seem to be working awfully hard on it,” he said, pleasantly.
She looked up, smiled patiently and said, “My apologies, Mister Kuryakin, I am not very chatty tonight.” Then she went back to eating. Hotaru made abortive attempts to bring up her dressmaking, and a few other things. A deepening silence descended after each try. Hotaru twiddled her chopsticks, her expression soured. This was going no where fast. Kuryakin smiled, amused at and sympathetic to Hotaru’s frustration. Miss Meioh was obviously very distracted and he was too decorous to press any advantage. Finally, Hotaru reached a point where she was two seconds from standing up and screaming at the top of her lungs, “Oh for God’s sake, will you two start talking to each other?” Instead, looking askance at Setsuna, she opted for ‘the plan of last resort.’ It was actually Michiru’s idea, or at least that’s what Hotaru was going to say if it backfired in any way. She felt bad at just how devious an act of manipulation it was, but the whole day had been a manipulation and so she may as well go all the way. If this didn’t work, she was going to drop the pretenses and berate them both for being so annoyingly proper. This attempt to make Setsuna ‘a bit vulnerable’ –as Michiru had put it- was also nearly unpredictable, although she hoped their affinity for light would keep it near the table so she could point it out. It might fly off without Setsuna even seeing it, and not be found for days, and probably at a most inauspicious moment. A vision of her and The Kittens coming home and seeing Setsuna perched on a chair while dinner was burning on the stove – this had happened once- filled her mind. But Hotaru was a tiny bit angry now. She quietly took a deep breath and released it.
She heard it fly off, but then for several minutes, it was no where to be seen. Hotaru thought plan had collapsed. Kuryakin began a half-hearted, impromptu review session. She responded to a few questions, as she worked up her courage to berate both of them for messing up her carefully wrought, well-executed plan. Then she caught a glimpse of it, high on the wall behind Setsuna. Perfect. In about ten seconds, she would call Setsuna’s attention to it, and that would do nicely. The roach had a better idea. It swooped down toward the over hanging light, but was unable to get a hold of its smooth surface, and dropped right into Setsuna’s dipping bowl.
‘Yes, yes, yes!’
Kuryakin’s voice trailed off for two reasons: the table was inexplicably starting to shake, and Hotaru, while smiling slyly and still looking directly at him, was motioning toward Setsuna. She looked as though she was going to shake the table into splinters. Some of the dinnerware was dangerously close to going over the edge. Then she managed to separate from the table, backed quickly and cattily into the cabinets, edged around behind him, and dug her fingers into the shoulders of his sport jacket. She wanted the biggest thing in the room, that could move, between her and it.
“Get rid of it!” she hissed in his ear and pointed.
“What?” he said, his brain momentarily fogging over as he caught a whiff of her perfume.
She pointed again.
Oh,” he said, spying the shiny brown, wriggling mass as it climbed on to the rim of the dipping bowl. “It’s just a cockroach.”
“I am aware of what it is! Get rid of it!” she whispered desperately in his ear. “Oh no!”
The roach was flexing its wings, trying to clear them of the sauce. Setsuna choked back a scream, and as Kuryakin stood up, she grabbed his sport coat in handfuls by the waist, hugging and huddling behind him, her eyes screwed tightly shut. She heard the flapping of its wings as it took off, and felt her bodyguard move a little. Hotaru applauded. With a move so sudden and swift she barely saw it, he had snatched the roach out of mid air.
“Where is it?!” Setsuna asked opening one eye a bit.
“It’s okay. I’ve taken care of it.”
She relaxed.
“I’ve got him right here,” he said, holding it between his thumb and forefinger.
She tensed right back up, tighter than before.
“Hotaru-chan?” he said, turning it over in his fingers and showing her its back, “Order: Blattodea, Family: Blattellidae, Genus:Blattella, Species: Blattella asahinai, or the Asian cockroach. Like all cockroaches, it is perfectly harmless, despite the fact that it can eat and digest almost anything due to the presence of an incredible variety of intestinal flora in its digestive track. They are distinguishable by the light brown V on the back and from their prodigious flying ability. This one’s also a female as you can see by the ootheca, or egg sack extruding from … Miss Meioh, would you like to have look?”
“No!” she shrieked, digging her fingers into his sport coat’s shoulders again and facing him away from her. “Do not turn around!” Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and she pleaded loudly “Get rid of it! Kill it, please!”
“I’m not going to kill this peaceable and fastidious creature,” Kuryakin said with complete seriousness. “You know, it’s a marvel of efficiency and survivability. It serves a very useful purpose in nature …”
“It has fifty million progeny! It will not be missed. Exterminate it! Now!”
“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to get my hand dirty.”
“It is far too late for that! Hold it out away from you,” she growled very deliberately through clenched teeth, “keep yourself between me and the little hellspawn, and do not turn around. Now, start walking!”
“Yes, Miss Meioh.”
She began pushing him out of the dining room.
“Hold on, your chair, … Oww - wowww!” he yelled, banging his shin and nearly tripping over it, as she marched him to the back door. He opened the door with his free hand, and tossed it into the night. He was afraid for a moment she was going to push him out along with it, but she released his jacket, leaned against the wall and was breathing with relief.
“Close the door, please, before you allow another in,” she ordered calmly.
“I didn’t let in that one.”
“How do you know that?”
“How do you know I did? Miss Meioh,” he said thoughtfully, “would you like to be relieved of this irrational fear? I can show you how. I used to have the worst time with spiders.”
“That will not be necessary.”
“Maybe I should spend the night. If you see one, there are probably a hundred more.”
“Not with the flying kind,” she said mainly to reassure herself as she shuddered at the thought. “I am deathly afraid of those things. I can not help it. Please do not mock me.”
He sighed.
“I wasn’t mocking you,” he said. “I would never mock you.”
She looked up at him drawn to how soft and kind his voice had become. It reminded her of that night at the hospital, just before he’d left.
“It’s just that … well, you seem so perfect, so imperturbable,” he said simply. “It’s nice to find out that there’s something that gets to you. It’s … cute.”
It was hard to tell with her dusky skin and the dim hallway light, but he thought she might have blushed just now.
“Shall we return to dinner, Miss Meioh?” he asked, proffering his arm.
She took it, and then he placed his opposite hand over hers. She was surprised by how soft and warm it was.
“That is not the hand you caught it in, is it?”
“No.”
Hotaru had cleaned the table, and gotten Setsuna fresh plates of food. She was smiling when she saw them walking in like that. This was more what she had in mind. Setsuna walked him over to the sink.
“Wash your hands, please.”
“Of course, Miss Meioh.”
He did so, and then seated them both very properly. Dinner began again. Stillness quickly resumed, but Hotaru noticed Setsuna was eyeing her very suspiciously. One too many oddities had occurred today; she was finally trying to put aside her worries about the recent events in her life, and was becoming suspicious. Then Hotaru started to giggle.
“What’s so funny, Hotaru-chan?” asked Kuryakin.
“Little hellspawn.”
Kuryakin started to chuckle too, but then bit his tongue for fear Setsuna would think he was mocking her. She smiled, however, and didn’t seem to take offense since it had come from Hotaru, and not him.
“So, Hotaru,” he said, “how do you feel about tomorrow’s finals? Think you’re ready to get through them?”
“Ummm, hmmm,” she smiled confidently.
“Good. You seem to be over whatever sickness you had this morning.”
Setsuna seemed about ready to descend back into her own little world, but then she perked up a bit a said, “Mister Kuryakin? I wonder if you could help me with something?”
“Name it, Miss Meioh,” he said, as he perked up as well.
“Let me get it,” she said. She left the table and he had to stop himself from rising again. Hotaru looked quite happy now. Setsuna returned with her laptop and that test that her former mentor had graded so harshly.
“I would be curious to know what you think of how this was graded,” she said, and handed it to him as he sat down.
“Oh, Well, Miss Meioh,” he said, reticently, “I’m not sure I’m fit to judge how your professors grade your wo …”
“Just tell me what you think,” she commanded, then added, “You seem to be a fair-minded person. Please?”
“Okay,” he said and then examined the question, her answer, and her professor’s comments. He looked hard at her answer, and then began “tsk, tsking,” made a bit of a show at getting out his red marker pen, and started marking it up. Kuryakin watched her expression over the top of her paper. Setsuna was first surprised, then hurt, then annoyed, then exasperated. He chuckled. “I’m just kidding, Miss Meioh,” he smiled, as he turned the paper around to show that he was only pretending to write on it. “It’s a fine answer and whoever graded this must’ve been having a very bad week. If you ask me, anyway.” Setsuna looked momentarily offended at his lack of seriousness, but then smiled triumphantly and appreciatively. Even though her new mentor had agreed with her that there was nothing wrong with her answer, for some reason she couldn’t quite pin down, she trusted her guest’s judgement and erudition, and more importantly, his honesty.
“So, …” he said, hesitant to ask the same question twice,” … what is your term paper about?”
She pursed her lips, and then got her laptop and opened it up.
“It’s called 'Dark Energy,' Quantum Gravity, and The New Cosmological Constant,” she said.
“Wow,” he said sincerely. “And this is just a term paper?”
“Yes,” she said, “Actually, it is merely my analysis of the WMAP data, but with an eye towards my junior thesis.”
‘Merely?’ he thought. ‘This should be interesting.’
Kuryakin poured over the section Setsuna had vetted during his review session with Hotaru, while she looked over his shoulder. He looked very serious as he read it, and when he finished, he surprised Setsuna by asking if he could skim the other sections as well. Then he read her conclusion aloud: “… one of the biggest challenges to cosmologists and physicists is to prove or disprove whether these ‘distasteful’ aspects of the universe are merely coincidental, or in fact lead us to the realization of an underlying physical structure to the cosmos that we do not yet comprehend.”
‘How is she doing this? Good grief, she’s only three or four steps from understanding …’ - he did not finish that thought. “Miss Meioh, this is … very good. I mean, this could get published. And …”
“Yes?”
“I … like how you write. It’s concise and scientific without being dry and boring. There is … a certain passion in it. Are you sure fashion design is your calling?”
“Yes, I am,” Setsuna replied, looking a bit embarrassed as she closed her laptop. “However, even as a child, I was always fascinated by the great physicists. Einstein, especially.”
“Hmm,” he smiled. “The thing that most fascinates me about Einstein is that if you look at his work up to the point where he explained general relativity, you can’t get from where he was to what he discovered.”
“And what do you conclude?”
“It was a revelation.”
“Indeed?”
“I once took a class with a guy who was with Turing when he broke the Enigma code. He told me there are two kinds of geniuses in the world. There are geniuses who find a way to solve a problem, and you look at it and you say ‘yes, given enough time, I could have come up with this.’ Then there is the kind of genius –your singularities, Miss Meioh - who looks at a problem and comes up with a solution that is so out-of-the-blue, so off-the-wall, you know that never- in million years- could you have come up with that. Turing was the second kind. Einstein, too.”
The discussion was getting a little heady, but at least they were talking. Hotaru beamed, and started quietly thinking of the one thing Michiru-momma had forgotten. At some point, it would be best if Hotaru bowed out and ‘let things happen,’ if happen they were going to. Then, after this momentary flowering of sociability, they went back to The Silence, as they quietly finished their meal. It was a bit different, though, as if both of them were searching for some next thing to talk about. As they cleaned up the table, Hotaru thought up one last bit of a plan. She bowed out on the pretense of going to the restroom. In fact, she went to the phone in Haruka and Michiru’s bedroom. While she was gone, as Kuryakin rinsed off the dishes, Setsuna cleared the disposables off the table. As she was about to chuck them, she noticed black marker on one of the crumpled up napkins. She opened it up and read the words. Then, adding it to the list of puzzling things happening this day, she pitched it.
“Hotaru? How’s it going?” asked Michiru. She and Haruka had just finished dinner and were driving to the recital hall.
“Rotten, except for a few minutes ago. Michiru-momma, I am so glad I got a hold of you. Listen, I need exactly seven minutes from the end of this call, and then I want you to call the phone in the kitchen.”
“What are you going to do?”
She explained, and Michiru said, “Hotaru! That is first class trickery. You’re really starting to get it. I’m so proud of you. And remember: don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Just drag them both out there.”
“Setsuna-momma, let’s show Kuryakin-sensei the garden,” Hotaru suggested trying not to sound desperate for anything that might keep him here a little longer. The dishes were in the dishwasher and Kuryakin, who was wiping off the table, couldn’t help but chuckle at Hotaru’s desperation.
“Hotaru,” said Setsuna, “Night has fallen. What would he be able to see?”
“Well, it’s always good to get some fresh air after a meal, and the sky should be quite pretty tonight.”
“It was a fine meal –thank you so much, by the way- and I could do with a little stretch,” Kuryakin said helpfully. Setsuna acquiesced, and Kuryakin held the door open for them both.
“Please hurry with the door,” Setsuna said, “or you shall let in another cockroach.”
“I didn’t let in the first one.”
“I do not see how you can know that.”
“I don’t see how you can know I did.”
Hotaru sighed. Adults were mighty strange creatures sometimes. The backyard of this very nice house was almost extraordinary in its ordinariness, but it was not an unpleasant place for a man and a woman to have a chat and take a little walk. Hotaru kept an ear out for the phone call that should be coming in the next two minutes.
“Setsuna-momma’s herb garden is right here,” said Hotaru leading Kuryakin to a patch near a hedge.
“What do you have planted here, Miss Meioh?”
“Oh, medicinal herbs, mostly. I used some of them to make broth for Hotaru this morning.”
‘Michiru-momma! Hurry up and call!’ thought Hotaru, as she credited Momma Meioh’s Home Remedy for her quick recovery from her earlier sickness.
“Miss Meioh, you should bottle and sell that remedy,” Kuryakin smiled. “It’s almost like Hotaru wasn’t sick at all.”
Hotaru had backed toward the house, as Kuryakin had knelt down to examine the garden, and took a cursory sniff. Inside the house, a phone started ringing.
“I’ll get it,” Hotaru said over her shoulder, as she bolted for the door. Kuryakin chuckled quite audibly. He didn’t know what was funnier: the transparency of Hotaru’s plan, or Miss Meioh’s odd, apparent lack of perception –or was it indifference?- about it all.
“What is so amusing, Mister Kuryakin?” ...
(Word Limit Reached)
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