《Wayside - 1920s Japan Dramedy》


 1: Homecoming (With Illustration)

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s the last of ¡®em, Yuko!" Kicking a wooden box from the hallway into the kitchen, Alfred Hampton swiped what seemed to be the thousandth drop of sweat of the day from his forehead. He had to admit, lugging two thirty-pound leather suitcases for a mile and a half in the blazing Kansai sun encouraged him to appreciate his ¡°string bean¡± arms much more than he had done so in the past. Maybe now his niece would have the heart to stop subjecting him and his arms to such ridiculous name calling.


    ¡¸ Oh, thank you so much, Al!¡¹ Yuko Hasegawa tip-toed up to meet Alfred at the doorway, stepping atop the rickety box to peck his cheek. "I really don''t know what we would do without you."


    "Um, yeah, speak for yourself please." Long wavy strands of tawny hair tumbled into sight as Lucy Hampton pushed a patchy traveling bag across the narrow hallway floor. "I know exactly what I would do without him, thank you very much."


    Alfred rolled his eyes, exhausted from his niece¡¯s non-stop complaining. "Luce, we''re here, we left, get over it¨C"


    "Lucy! Oh¨C" Alfred¡¯s fianc¨¦ flew out of his arms and back onto the floor, her hands interlocking with Lucy''s wrists. "You''re going to get¨Cwhat are they called?" Yuko flung their hands in the air above the bag, looking long and hard at the younger girl''s sweaty palms. ¡¸ When wood goes into your skin.¡¹


    "Splinters?" Lucy blinked, gently pulling away from Yuko''s grip.


    "Yes, yes! Go take a break!"


    "But this bag isn''t made of wood¨C"


    "On you go!"


    Two flapping hands hurried Lucy out of the hallway and up the staircase, leaving Yuko and Alfred in much-deserved solitude for the first time that day.


    "See, now if I told her something like that, she''d stay at my throat for a good ten minutes at least." Alfred chuckled, his usual lopsided grin spreading as he reached for Yuko to join him back in the sunny kitchen.


    "It''s a woman''s charm." Two petite shoulders shrugged up and down underneath Yuko''s soft cotton shirt as she returned to the top of the box, her wrists and fingers resting around Alfred''s dampened shirt collar. She was usually seen donning fitted dresses and twinkling jewels, but today called for a much more utilitarian fashion¨Cfashion she would perhaps have to become used to, given their current state of affairs. "She needs time. She can speak wonderfully and she''s already learning to read, I''m much more worried about you!"


    "Me!?" Placing a palm over his heart, Alfred was taken aback at the speed at which it was beating along with how his arm muscles ached at such a slight motion. "Hey hey, if my arms and hands can survive a forty-minute march uphill with two full suitcases, what''s a couple hundred symbols and pictures, huh?"


    "Kanji, Al." Another laugh escaped Alfred as he felt Yuko''s head plop down onto his chest. "They''re kanji, and there''s many more than a ''couple hundred.'' Not to mention you only know about ten!"


    "The ten most important!"


    Yuko couldn''t stop the hand lightly slapping into her forehead, attempting to force Alfred''s ridiculous logic somewhere into the recesses of her own brain to no avail. ¡¸Important? Alcohol, money, food, wom¨C¡¹


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    "Medicine! Don''t act like I don''t know how to read ''medicine!¡¯ Come on!''" Alfred''s arms spread wide across the kitchen, head lilting to the side as if he expected Yuko to praise his lackluster prowess in vocabulary. "Medicine and doctor!"


    "I''m saved." Yuko gave a small giggle as it was her turn to roll her eyes, hopping off the small box and stepping towards the kitchen sink. "Sorry, I''ll let you do the fixing up around here and if I ever do need it, I''ll have Lucy do the talking for me."


    She brushed off the tiny scoff nearly inaudible behind her as she fiddled with the pump.


    Hm.


    Well, it certainly wasn''t supposed to be a rusty brownish color.


    After a few twists and pushes, water finally came in unpredictable gushes.


    Oh my, well water definitely wasn''t supposed to be a brownish color.


    Yuko flinched backwards as a few wayward drops threatened to sully her white blouse. She wondered if perhaps the navy would have been a better option for the day.


    "Your first job!" Wrapping her knuckles against the cool sink tiles, Yuko turned back towards Alfred still standing near the box. "Fix this and maybe I''ll join you over there again."


    "The lady drives a hard bargain." He couldn''t help the tiny swoon in his chest at her coy wink. Rolling up his sleeves, Alfred stepped to the sink, quietly shooing Yuko away as he allowed himself a better look at the sorry sight before him. "Hopefully we don''t die of thirst before I can fix this. And Jesus, your family ever hear of curtains?" Leaning against the sink countertop, Yuko was about to roll her eyes once more until she was blinded by the sudden burst of sunlight ricocheting off her lover''s eyeglasses.


    "One problem at a time, Al." She huffed as she escaped towards the kitchen table, running a hand through her sweaty head of hair.


    ...Eugh.


    "We don''t usually have curtains in houses here, and we should be grateful they''re letting us stay here at all." Her hands met her hips while she observed Alfred from a distance, fingers drumming against the table¡¯s wooden surface. "They could have just sold it to the Miyagi family, you know. Get some money instead of just a good conscience."


    "It''s not that I''m not grateful, it''s just¨Cson of a b-" Spurts of rusty water flowed freely into the sink and splashed onto Alfred''s pants after a couple more pulls on the pump.


    Yuko struggled to bite back tears, either from laughter or despair, of which she wasn''t certain. "Be careful what you say."


    "I know, I know." He held out his arms on either side, turning to face Yuko at the table. "...Towel?"


    ¡¸ One''s...here somewhere. Ah! Here we go.¡¹ Kneeling down and searching the floor, Yuko looked until her eyes landed upon a white fabric corner poking out from an unsealed box. "Oh, I think I should go check on her up there." Now dabbing at Alfred''s soaked and stained shirt, Yuko''s worries were beginning to wander upstairs. "We know a quiet Lucy probably means¨C"


    "A second flood? The rapture?" Alfred''s eyes were blown wide with feigned fear, lips curled upward and heart jumping as Yuko''s nimble fingers eased the color out of the stain.


    "You''re just as bad as her, you know that right?" Whipping the towel on the countertop, Yuko patted his cheek before leaving Alfred and the leaky plumbing for the hallway. "Please, try to have that fixed by tonight. I know there''s no tools but use your head."


    "Sorry, he hasn''t been used in a while, afraid we gotta get reacquainted!"


    Gulping back another laugh, she forced herself to ignore the clangs and grumbles seeping out from the kitchen as she climbed the stairway, only to be met with more grumbles coming from behind a shut door.


    Wonderful.


    At the very least, someone was settling in.


    Knock knock.


    ¡¸ Lu-chan!¡¹


    Yuko just wished it was herself.

 2: Girls Only

    A spacious room with stark white walls and a rather noisy floor greeted Lucy as she gingerly slid open and closed the first door on the second floor. After a few steps into the sunlit room, Lucy knew it was bad¨Cnot the room, no. Although she didn''t want to admit it per say, it was quite a welcoming space with its large window, providing a peaceful and quaint view of the neighborhood beyond.


    What was bad was the sorry state of her face, or rather, any bit of skin that managed to acquaint itself with the hellspawn afternoon sun streaking into the room.


    "Skin issues in a foreign country, on the first day." Her cheeks strained as her grin grew taut across her tingling face, index fingers cautiously pushing white indents into her reddened forearms. "Great."


    Taking another step toward the center of the room, Lucy silently thanked a lone cloud swimming across the sky to eventually cloak the sun. She was about to kneel down and become familiar with the view until¨C


    Squeak. Rustle. Rustle.


    Lucy''s shoulders tensed, head whipping every which way to pinpoint the origin of those cursed sounds.


    What. Was. That.


    "Oh, Lord above, please."


    Of all things thrown her way today, a pest was something she would never be prepared for, not without a broom or shotgun.


    She scanned the room as she tiptoed to each corner¨Cthere was no furniture, nothing whatsoever that a tiny creature could use as a hideaway. To make matters even worse and more confusing was that each little step Lucy took around the room on her hunt led to more and more squeaks.


    "Oh, don''t tell me." Lucy bounced on her heels for a few seconds before discovering the culprit¨Cherself.


    Why the hell does this floor sound like a family of squirrels?


    Yuko had called it ¡°tatami¡± when they first entered the house, and it was supposedly made of rice? If Lucy had caught that correctly, which, at this point in their exhausting day, she wasn''t necessarily confident of.


    At least it''s edible if we can''t afford any food.


    This was not a particularly good day, and through Lucy''s attitude it showed.


    Between her uncle''s countless exclamations of "Wow! What''s that?" and "Hey! What does that sign say?" along with his pointer finger flying every which way as if he were an overly-stimulated child, Lucy wanted nothing more than to hide her face from the world now unknown to her and take a long, long, never-ending nap.


    Was she grateful she had a roof over her head when she hadn''t a cent to her name? Of course she was, and she was especially thankful she was able to live with her uncle''s wonderful fianc¨¦ (whom he didn''t deserve, in Lucy''s humble opinion).


    She just wished she could have Yuko to herself and dump her uncle back on the boat to California.


    Wait, no no no.


    With a furrowed brow she shook her head, finally plopping her knees down onto the soft tatami floor.


    I should want to be back on that boat.


    The yellow rays of sun poking past the cloud splashed onto Lucy''s scrunched face.


    What was coming over her? This was what happened in Chicago all over again¨Cwallowing in existential dread on the miserable journey there and then falling into wobbly contentment once some semblance of stability rounded the corner into her shattered life.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Her hips shifted as she fussed with her skirt hem, picking at the loose brown threads dangling from the broken seam she had ravaged days before on their journey. She grinned to herself, remembering the way Yuko lunged her weight across her and her uncle''s bed to grab at Lucy''s skirt.


    "Go pick out a boy to watch a picture with tonight instead of picking at your skirt! There were plenty of nice-looking ones playing cards outside, brush out your hair and go get their attention!"


    It had always come easy to Yuko. Lucy''s uncle had quite a bit of competition while they were in Chicago, and even though he had the guts to propose to her, Lucy was skeptical if he was confident (and competent) enough to play the role of a husband.


    He better be, or this would have all been for nothing.


    A noisy rapping pounding from the other side of the door coaxed Lucy out of her nostalgia and back onto her feet.


    ¡¸Lu-chan!¡¹


    "Ah." Lucy scurried towards the door as a shaky hand brushed over her tousled hair. ¡¸Yes. One moment, sorry.¡¹


    A quick slide of the door revealed Yuko with a beaming smile.


    ¡¸You and I need some ladies'' time after today.¡¹ Lucy could feel their cheeks sticking together in the humid room as Yuko wrapped an arm around her shoulders.


    ¡¸That would truly be quite nice.¡¹ Sliding the door close behind them, Lucy broke from the embrace while her uncle''s frustrated cursing seeped through the floorboards. ¡¸It would be even nicer if it could be an entire day, maybe a week, a year.¡¹ She rolled her eyes as she bounced a finger in the air, one for each fantasy.


    "A day maybe, but we both know he wouldn''t last any longer by himself." Yuko''s smile widened as she passed Lucy for the sunny window, shooting a wink over her shoulder. "Do you like this room?"


    "Oh." Lucy followed Yuko back over to the window, now taking notice of a rather uncomfortably large cobweb splayed in one of the upper corners. "Yes, it''s really nice. Nice view and all." She tore her gaze away from the spindly web, remembering what her late brother would always preach to her back home.


    There''s nothing much they could do to hurt you, ya know! How''d you feel if I squashed you?


    ¡¸Mhm! This can be your room, then!¡¹ Yuko exclaimed with a light tap on the streaked window glass. Her smile switched from warm to pleased, as if her declaration was the first new household decree.


    ¡¸Wh-Huh? I thought¨C¡¹ Lucy''s neck tensed as she shook her head, mind jumping from her brother and back into the present. ¡¸Of course, thank you, but I guess I''m just not used to having...¡¹ Lucy searched for the correct word to describe her whirlwind of emotions, arms jutting in front of her as she lightly waved her hands in the air.


    "Privacy? Space?"


    "Yeah, that. Those."


    What did people do with privacy? Without a noisy seven-year old sticking his nose into everything you owned while sitting on your side of the room with muddy shoes? Without a foghorn-turned-uncle snoring six feet away from you through the entire damn night? That was a reality for people?


    "Don''t worry Lucy, I''ll take your uncle from here! No more family sleepovers, sorry!" Yuko laughed with an arm once again around Lucy''s shoulder. "You don''t mind me stealing him away, right?"


    "I''m going to die of loneliness, I''m sure of it." With a hand grasping at her chest, Lucy rolled her weight into Yuko''s frame, the older woman now struggling to hold in her laughter along with Lucy''s dead weight.


    ¡¸You need to live, someone has to clean the bathroom!¡¹


    ¡¸Are you sure you''re not trying to kill me? I see a light!¡¹


    ¡¸Liar, we''re not facing the window anymore!¡¹


    Both women stumbled to the door, Lucy reluctantly flinging herself upright off of Yuko as more clangs and frustrated groans echoed from downstairs.


    "Is that our cue?"


    "A woman''s work is never done." Yuko mumbled as she led Lucy out to the hall and down the stairway. At the very least, she had a total of five minutes of relaxation. "You''ll learn that as you get older."


    "Uh huh." Lucy bit her lip, glancing to the side with her smile reaching up to her ears.


    "Will I also learn how to style my hair as elegantly as yours? I never knew ladies of your caliber used sweat of all things as a hair curler."


    As Yuko leered back at Lucy, yet again a giggling mess, she had half a mind to yank Lucy''s own curls and tumble the both of them down the stairs.


    "Oh Lucy, how nice of you to notice! Maybe your hair will achieve my level of elegance while you fix up the hot and humid bathroom. You¡¯ll thank me later."


    "You really are trying to kill me, aren''t you?"

 3: Fashion Crisis

    ¡¸It''s official.¡¹


    Mieko Takahara sat on her bed, eyes locked on the two evening dresses jumbled together cascading down the back of her study chair.


    ¡¸I...have no idea what I''m doing.¡¹


    Why couldn''t she just wear what she had on for the entire day? What made dinner so special?


    More specifically, just what on earth made Mister Fosters so special that she had to change into one of these scratchy, sweaty deathtraps?


    Dinner is the least we can do for him after all that he''s done for you.


    Mieko rolled her eyes at her father¡¯s reasoning, arms splaying above her shiny black hair as she lay down in defeat.


    The least we can do? With the weekly payments and triple overtime allowances, he could be eating bluefin tuna every night of the week!


    But apparently it wasn''t enough for that man, even when he took home more than Mrs. O''Halloran could have ever dreamed of making.


    Her eyebrows knit into a fine line across her forehead, eyes shooting daggers into the white ceiling above.


    Mrs. O''Halloran.


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    She should be the one her father was inviting to dinner, not Mister Fosters.


    Mieko was considering writing to Kazuma about how unfairly her father had treated her former English tutor, but she decided to wait until he returned home to break the news.


    Kazuma.


    The thought of finally reuniting with her best friend after three excruciatingly long years was more than enough to brighten up Mieko''s otherwise sullied evening.


    Propping her body back upright, she sighed as her eyes scanned over the two gowns still taunting her from the chair.


    Blue or green, blue, green...


    She sighed again.


    An hour of putting on this kimono, wasted.


    And she had just learned to put it on all by herself! At the very least, she wanted to celebrate by wearing it for the entire day.


    Booming footsteps suddenly rang from below Mieko''s room, the vibrations sounding her from her musings and back to the bleak reality laid out before her for the evening.


    She had to hurry up and get down there, lest her father subject her to even more questioning for the day, in front of Mister Fosters of all people.


    Trudging her way towards the two dresses, Mieko reluctantly settled her fingers on the blue silk ready to fall off the side of the chair.


    Hey, at least a dress gives me more room for food!


    She grinned to herself as she undid her obi, imagining how Kazuma would always tease her for how much she managed to ravage through every dinner.


    Anything to get through this, without him.


    ¡¸Mieko! Come down here, you''re ready aren''t you?¡¹


    One more night, she could handle just one more night.


    One more night, and he was home.

 4: Dinner Party

    ¡¸Wonderful, so it''s agreed you will teach Mieko Tuesday through Friday starting next week.¡¹


    The light clang of silverware rang across the dining table, accompanying the idle chatter of Mister Takahara and Mister Fosters.


    ¡¸She truly needs more time with you, after five months with your teaching it''s apparent her previous tutor was of no benefit whatsoever.¡¹


    Mieko held back a cringe as Mister Fosters hummed in agreement.


    ¡¸Yes, if I recall correctly, that Mrs. O''Halloran always incorporated a rather unnecessary amount of-what to call it-¡¹ Mister Fosters rolled his eyes to the ceiling before reaching for his wine glass. ¡¸-American enthusiasm in her lessons.¡¹ Raising his eyebrows, he took a laughably small sip before continuing. ¡¸Such a shame, she seemed to be a promising young woman, fit for structured teaching.¡¹


    ¡¸I was of the mindset that a female teacher would encourage her to speak English in a...soft manner.¡¹ Mister Takahara raised a hand towards his daughter, completely unaware of the toll the conversation was having on her. ¡¸But after hearing that woman''s accent, I knew I was sorely mistaken.¡¹


    Mieko held her eyes on her plate, fixated on a clump of vegetables while attempting to ignore her father''s unwarranted criticism.


    American enthusiasm? I''d take Mrs. O''halloran''s ¡°American enthusiasm¡± over this bore any day.


    She tapped her knee with her pinky, hands resting on the blue dress she had donned the hour prior.


    Kazuma was probably being inundated with "American enthusiasm" everyday, and his English was just fine.


    In fact, it was probably even better than it had been, what with all the crazy adventures and exploits he wrote about in his million-page long letters every month.


    Her father''s thick voice sounded across the table once more.


    ¡¸What I should have done was inquire about a Canadian female. I hear they''re less animated, what do you think about that?¡¹


    ¡¸Now now, I¡¯m not sure if I want to compromise my job, Mister Takahara.¡¹ Both men chuckled at Mister Foster¡¯s jest while Mieko poked at her food. ¡¸But, I''ve only been to the United States twice, and the dialect varies among location.¡¹ Mister Fosters'' gaze bounced between Mieko and her father as he stabbed into his salmon. ¡¸But I can say with certainty that no one in Vancouver, especially no ladies I knew, spoke in such a way resembling Mrs. O''Halloran.¡¹ A wave of his fork emphasized his words, ¡¸I suppose that''s one positive of being raised in the north: we decided inclement weather was more favorable than inclement women.¡¹


    Weak laughter rumbled from the two men as Mieko forced her lips into an agreeable smile.


    Another positive would have been if a polar bear came along and ate y¨C


    ¡¸Speaking of America, one of your boys is returning home soon, yes?¡¹


    ¡¸He''s not my son, but with the amount of money I''ve given to him he may as well be.¡¹


    Mieko held down a scoff at her father''s spiteful tone.


    The amount of money you''ve given him? More like the amount of money he''s made for you.


    Mieko couldn''t stand how her father constantly vilified Kazuma, even during times when he wasn''t present to defend himself.


    Eyeing his daughter from across the table, Mister Takahara decided to tread lightly. ¡¸With what he''s learned during his time there, he''ll hopefully have the proper experience to take over.¡¹


    ¡¸I''ve never been, but New York is certainly the place to be for finance, as well as¡ª¡¹ Mister Fosters huffed as his napkin met his lips. ¡¸¨Cother things.¡¹


    Mieko perked up. Other things? Surely, Kazuma had told her everything worth telling!


    Although she tried to hide her intrigue and not feed her tutor¡¯s ego any further, Mieko''s eyes were alight with curiosity.


    ¡¸What kinds of things?¡¹


    Mister Fosters turned his head towards Mieko, as if her presence was truly being acknowledged for the first time that evening.


    ¡¸Yes.¡¹ Folding his hands underneath his chin, Mister Takahara appeared just as taken as his daughter. ¡¸I''ve always had the feeling Kazuma was hiding something in his letters, now I¡¯m nearly positive my hunch was correct.¡¹


    ¡¸Crime. Crime everywhere, so I''ve heard.¡¹ A haughty laugh followed Mister Fosters'' blunt declaration. ¡¸It''s all out war in some areas¨CI''ve heard.¡¹


    Mieko winced as the grip on her fork grew tighter, every word prodding the small but present urge to slap this man across his face once the opportunity presented itself.


    So I''ve heard¨Cwhat an annoying phrase, just who came up with that?


    It''s not polite to babble on about things you know nothing about¨Cso I''ve heard.


    Now she really couldn''t wait until Kazuma returned home. She already had their new inside joke.


    ¡¸Now now, it''s no laughing matter, Mieko.¡¹ Mister Fosters wagged a finger in the air, unaware of the subtle twitch traveling across Mieko''s stony smile.


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    ¡¸Ever since they passed that ''no alcohol'' law or whatever they''re calling it, that city¨Cthat country¨Chas been run by criminals.¡¹


    By this point in the evening it was usually Mister Takahara''s cue to solemnly nod and down his very own glass of alcohol, and tonight was no different than the others.


    The prices to pay for a daughter''s education.


    ¡¸Now I know you have the yakuza gangs, but they''re not placing innocent bystanders'' lives in danger. The mafia goons over there on the other hand¨Cthey''re out of control, simply put! If Wilson had half the brain they claim he has, he''d have never even considered such an asinine law.¡¹


    Mieko blinked in confusion.


    Wilson?


    ¡¸Wh-?¡¹ She didn''t even bother to finish as her father''s voice boomed over her own.


    ¡¸Well, as soon as I''m able to see Kazuma, I''ll have to ask him more about this...intriguing situation.¡¹


    As thankful as Mieko was for her father''s opportune timing in cutting off Mister Fosters'' tirade, something was off about his choice of words.


    As soon as he''s able? The first thing Kazuma was going to do once he stepped off that boat was come back to Osaka and see them. Right?


    Mieko was even hoping that her father would suggest they go and surprise Kazuma at the station, but by this point in the evening that was a low possibility.


    ¡¸He''s coming to see us tomorrow.¡¹ The matter-of-fact tone would have normally surprised even herself, but someone had to be the voice of reason. ¡¸There''s no reason he wouldn''t, right? I want to see him.¡¹


    ¡¸He''ll be exhausted, Mieko, surely. And quite honestly, I don¡¯t really know myself when his train arrives. He never bothered to send a set schedule. It might be tomorrow.¡¹ Her father shrugged. ¡¸Or it might be the day after, or the day after that.¡¹


    Mieko simply sat there, her jaw working overtime to ensure that her mouth wouldn''t fall flat to the floor at her father''s nonchalance.


    He still didn''t care.


    Kazuma had been gone for three years, and not once had her father ever shown any signs of missing his company.


    While Mieko lay in bed each night reeling about the adventures written in Kazuma''s letters, her father sometimes didn''t even bother to skim through them.


    If he reads them, he''ll miss him. It''s his loss, but once Kazuma does come home, Father will definitely be thrilled.


    That was her original thought.


    Boy, no time like the present to prove how wrong she was.


    ¡¸How can you not know?¡¹ As soon as they flew off her tongue, Mieko instantly knew she would come to regret those words.


    ¡¸How can I not know.¡¹ Her father repeated the words as if they were a riddle for the ages. Tingles shot up Mieko''s fingers and through her arms as his voice lingered throughout the dining room.


    Mister Fosters was of no help at all: his gray eyes were glazed, eyebrows raised, and his mouth was shut during the one time Mieko would have loved for him to ramble on about anything his heart desired.


    ¡¸There is one thing I miss about Kazuma.¡¹ With her father''s every word, the confidence and certainty coursing through Mieko moments ago steadily plummeted into her stomach¨Cand he knew. ¡¸Since you''re sentimental, perhaps now is a good time to reminisce.¡¹


    Clang. Clang.


    Mister Takahara tapped his knife against his porcelain plate, a bad habit he normally would never admit to or showcase in front of anyone but his daughter.


    Clang.


    ¡¸Kazuma knew when to stop talking.¡¹


    Clang.


    ¡¸Whenever I decide to allow him in this house again, perhaps he''ll take some time to teach you to keep your mouth shut.¡¹


    Seeing her father tapping away at his plate, hearing the incessant clanging, knowing Mister Foster''s eyes were glued onto her waiting for some kind of reaction¨Cit was enough to make Mieko go mad, but instead she hung her head.


    ¡¸Okay.¡¹ Ignoring the pain burning behind her eyes and in her throat, she silently celebrated her short yet audible reply as she studied the tablecloth pattern beneath her.


    She reminded herself to properly thank the universe at a later date as Mister Fosters finally decided to cut in.


    ¡¸As much as I would love nothing more than to stay in your company, I did unfortunately make a promise to the missus to be home before she retires for the evening.¡¹


    It was a sorry excuse, what with the half-finished fish still lying lifelessly on his plate, but Mieko nor her father could have cared any less.


    ¡¸She''s always going on about how I have too much fun without her, whatever she''s implying I haven''t a clue.¡¹ Dabbing his cracked lips with a napkin, he began to rise from his chair. As his hands plucked away at his tie and collar, he flashed Mister Takahara a knowing grin. ¡¸It must be nice to have peace and quiet whenever you get home, nobody breathing down your neck.¡¹


    Knife still gripped between his fingers, Mister Takahara froze. He didn''t dare look at his daughter.


    ¡¸Mm.¡¹ His lips pursed into a straight line as he also rose from the table, dropping his silverware and summoning the courage to steal a glimpse at Mieko.


    "Good night, Mister Fosters."


    Mister Takahara''s chest tightened as he heard his daughter¡¯s monotone voice. Mieko having the strength to make eye contact let alone reply to her tutor after that comment was enough for her father to overlook her behavior.


    "Good night, my dear. Your pronunciation is nearly perfect, now! Next time I see you, we''ll keep working on it."


    Her gut churned as Mister Fosters and her father headed towards the hallway.


    Well, so much for going to bed and not feeling sick.


    As the voices grew softer and the footsteps less booming, Mieko winced at the pain settling atop her shoulders.


    Surely with him finally gone, she should be joyously hopping right back into her bedroom and into a deep sleep, flighty dreams coaxing her to forget the horrible evening altogether.


    Instead, she found herself obligated to stay stuck to her chair, its plush cushioning irritating her strained muscles rather than comforting them.


    And she waited.


    It wasn''t long until her father returned to the dining room, standing at the hallway entrance instructing a pair of maids to tidy up for the evening.


    Her mouth grew dry.


    Here he goes again.


    How can he be this way?


    Trying to ignore the help now swirling about the room, Mieko''s body lurched forward, hands gripping the cool fabric of her skirt.


    ¡¸Dad¨C¡¹


    ¡¸I''m tired." He turned away. "If this is about Kazuma, it can wait until morning.¡¹


    ¡¸It''s not about Kazuma, it''s about¨C¡¹


    ¡¸Go to bed.¡¹


    The bite in his voice surprised even Mister Takahara himself. He refused to look back at his daughter, at her watery eyes and stiffened lip.


    It was too much, it had always been too much.


    It was the one challenge he could never overcome.


    It was the one challenge he didn''t want to overcome.


    He started for his room.

 5: Pillow Talk

    "I''m telling you, I had no idea there was a mama rat and her kid in that box! You really think I''d have opened it in the house if I knew? I have allergies!"


    Alfred''s voice quickly overtook the light patter of rain sounding off the bedroom window. A hand cradling his fianc¨¦''s head while his free arm gripped at his nightshirt, he searched Yuko''s face for any suggestion of understanding.


    ¡¸Oh please.¡¹ Yuko shushed, one arm lazily rolled across her forehead. Unlike her lover, she made a conscious effort to allow the poor girl in the next room a good night''s sleep. "You wanted to give Lucy a heart attack, and you nearly did. Quit the good-boy-allergy bit while I''m still sleeping with you."


    Yuko was exhausted. What with the cursing under the sink, over the sink, at the sink, at the rats, Alfred was lucky he was a skilled cuddler¨Cif it weren''t for that little talent, her and Lucy''s girls¡¯ year would have quickly become a reality.


    "Not my fault she''s scared of her own shadow. Puts up a front like she''s the second coming, though."


    "My, I wonder where she gets it from." Yuko rolled her eyes as Alfred''s breathy laugh bounced her head on his chest.


    He stretched an arm above the both of them, the other moving to coil tightly around her shoulders. Nothing was more satisfying to him than having her in his grasp, in a home they could call their own.


    Laziness and contentment quickly overtaking his usual hyper disposition, Alfred sighed as his fingertips met a cool floor instead of the usual silky hair.


    It had been about half a year since he lost the guaranteed comfort of feeling Yuko''s long hair gorgeously splayed above them in bed.


    Why''d she have to go and cut it all off?


    Maybe another six months and I''ll finally be used to it.


    "Hey."


    Alfred winced as Yuko''s chin dug into his collar bone. He crooked his head down to return the greeting.


    "Hey."


    She blinked lazily, eyes and mouth half-open like a cat ready to doze. "Are you searching for my hair?"


    "No."


    ¡¸You''re lying.¡¹ Yuko yawned as she hooked a leg around his ankle.


    "I should have cut it years ago, it was so hot¨Coh my God you''re so cold." Her knee jerked her leg away on instinct, digging her foot into the warm sanctuary of their blanket as her hands dug into his sides.


    "Whattaya mean I''m cold?" Alfred whined. "It''s like a hundred degrees in here, I''m dying!"


    "If it were a hundred degrees we''d be dead,"


    "I''m talking about American degrees!"


    "Oh how grand, another thing I need to teach you." She mumbled something else as she snuggled her way into his neck, but neither of them were willing to pursue bickering any further for the day.


    They laid in silence for a few moments.


    Zzzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzz.


    Yuko cringed.


    Oh goodness, I forgot about them.


    The incessant buzzing of the cicadas was something Yuko had never missed during her time in America. Although she was a nature-lover at heart and she had a formidable "green thumb" as Alfred had called it, insects never attracted her affections and she was sure they never would.


    The weather, the bugs, the food¨C


    Everything.


    Her lips tensed into a straight line as her mind ran wild.


    "It¡¯s going to get even hotter, you know. This isn''t even that bad."


    The man beneath her laughed in reply, tingles shooting up and down his neck as he felt her mouth twitch. "What, you trying to scare me away already?"


    "I''m not trying to ''scare you away.''" She tensed as a cool hand landed just underneath the nape of her neck. "I''m...simply presenting you with the state of your life from now on."


    "Well pretty lady, feel free to enlighten me some more." Alfred nudged her head up until her nose was pressed with his. "I am, after all, just a simple farm boy."


    He silently praised himself for working up a blush across her cheeks, clearly visible even with just the moonlight.


    "You''re a simple pain in my ass, farm boy, that''s what you are." Yuko plopped her head back down on his chest, reluctantly allowing more of his laughter to tumble over her while she lay there in a sweaty resolve.


    Zzzzzzz. Zzzzzz.


    "These bugs make that noise all summer. And it¡¯s still only spring."


    "Beats Luce yelling all the time."


    "It also rains a lot during this time of year, there''s going to be leaks all over the place."


    "It''s a good thing I''m tall and the ceilings are low, right? Ha!"


    "Maybe if you bump your head you''ll knock some sense into it."


    Always one step ahead with a good comeback at the ready on her tongue, Yuko would have normally cringed at such a weak jab if it weren''t for her mind leaping from one worry to the next.


    She burrowed into Alfred''s shirt as he laughed once more.


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    "You''re losing your touch, doll. It''s almost midnight and you didn''t even make me cry one tear today!"


    ¡¸Shut up.¡¹


    His fingers traipsed atop her head, inky black tresses now wavy and curving from the muggy air outside.


    He couldn''t help the pride stirring through his body as reality steadily furthered its way into his brain. This was it¨Cthe house on its last leg, the language and culture he was certain he would never fully understand, the unreachable woman finally off her pedestal and in his arms¨Can imperfect life, but he would take it in stride with her at his side.


    Not to mention, anything was better than the farm.


    "Al." A soft murmur vibrated against his chest, coming from the head of black hair Alfred was currently entangled in.


    "Yeah."


    She grew stiff, her body now resembling more of a board than anything lifelike.


    Now, how on earth could she word this without sending him through the roof?


    Yuko took a breath, eyes closed with her nose still pressed to Alfred''s chest. "Now that you''re here...and seeing everything." She paused. Her toes curled and her heartbeat quickened. "Would you have done it differently?"


    Ten seconds, twenty seconds passed. Alfred didn''t give an answer.


    Dread and shame suddenly flooded Yuko''s veins.


    Was he upset? Did he think she doubted their relationship? That wasn''t it at all, she only¨C


    "Nope." She nearly jumped from her skin as his hand left from her head to her waist.


    She bit her lip. Was she just hearing what she wanted to hear?


    "I wouldn''t change a thing." Alfred''s gaze shifted from her head to his hand as it quivered atop her nightdress.


    Yuko was on edge. She might be having second thoughts, and that terrified him.


    "Sure, Chicago was fun, I had a lot of fun with you. And there was way more to do there than back where I''m from." He kept his voice steady, no matter how unbelievably difficult it was to do so. The last thing he wanted was for his own panic to throw her into more unrest. "But no, I wouldn''t change anything, not even the goddamn leaky sink."


    He smirked as she let out a groan, her head turning to the side as her arms splayed above her and Alfred''s heads.


    "Don¡¯t remind me of that thing, this is your last warning."


    "Is this what they call ¡®yoga¡¯? Just goes to show you''re fancier than I''ll ever be!"


    Alfred shifted her body to the side, slowly rolling her sweaty frame underneath him.


    Her back hit the mat below. She cursed herself for letting him get the turn on her, just like he always did right after he cracked one of his ridiculous jokes.


    "Al¨C" Her heightened pitch and dilated eyes were far from enough to derail the plans manifesting behind his own tired gaze.


    "Forget Chicago, forget Osaka. I don¡¯t care." His pulse quickened as his hands linked around her wrists. Virtues like patience and self-control were never Alfred''s forte. It showed especially during times like these, when she was serene and smiling with her mouth parted and upturned¨Ca tried and true sign that she was more than okay with shedding her prim and proper persona when alone with him. "What matters to me, what''s always mattered to me, is getting to be with you. I''d go to the damn moon if I had to."


    His eyes trailed from her face to her hands. He felt her pulse ticking under his palms. Alfred was never one for "appreciating the small things" as his late brother would say, but seeing her hands linked with his was one of the few things on earth that managed to keep him sane.


    Was he thrilled that he had to move to the other side of the world, niece in tow, to continue on with her? Not necessarily, but it made her happy¨Cas happy as she could be in her current situation, at the very least.


    "Ha." Yuko''s laughter took him aback as she tried to wiggle her hands free. She would be the first to admit she always got teary-eyed and blushing cheeks whenever Alfred spouted off something even remotely romantic. She''d also be the first to admit, however, that she was always more than happy to pull him back into their reality, as dank and imperfect as it was. "Yeah, I bet you''d rather go to the moon than be in the same city as my dad."


    The mere mention of the man caused Alfred''s sparkling eyes to turn cloudy and dim.


    There it was. The situation. He should¡¯ve known it was only a matter of time before Yuko would bring it up to him.


    Alfred just wished she had given him another year or two to prepare.


    His fingers relaxed, allowing her to free her hands.


    "C''mon, I just put my heart on a platter for you, being romantic and everything, and you gotta bring up my eventual cause of death?" His head lowered, straight golden locks brushing against her neck


    "Oh my god, he''s not going to kill you, you big baby." She had found it funny the first few times: Alfred would tap his foot or chew on his lip whenever Yuko brought up her father while they were in Chicago. When the foot tapping and lip biting morphed into sudden sweats and clammy white skin, however, she knew it was something that needed to be discussed and worked on amongst the two of them.


    She decided to continue, treading lightly as she unbuttoned the top of his shirt.


    The poor man, maybe she should have shelved this conversation for a cooler night.


    "I don''t want to see him for some time, anyway, Al. You have nothing to worry about for now."


    "For now!?" Eyes wide and darting every which way, Alfred''s voice was beginning to resemble a whiny dog rather than a grown man. "Oh great, as if turning forty wasn''t bad enough, now I gotta worry about your dad coming for me.¡± He brought a hand to his forehead as his life flashed before him. ¡°Did I ever tell you about the time my grandpa and I were almost killed by wolves? Because let me tell you, that''s sounding a hell of a lot more appealing than¨C"


    His babbling was muffled with a small hand flying up to his lips.


    A mixture of groans and hushes dropped from her own mouth as she rolled her head towards the wall. "Lucy is trying to sleep, shut up."


    "Oh, Lucy is trying to sleep!" his neck craned down in disbelief, shoulder shaking and mouth agape as one arm flippantly waved at the wall. "Meanwhile I''m over here planning an early funeral, mhm, okay."


    His lanky frame collapsed onto the mat beside Yuko, a dejected sigh finishing off his rant.


    Another wave of silence washed over the room. Yuko waited for the sound of raindrops to continue on just as they had earlier that night, but now there was nothing, until-.


    Knock. Knock knock knock.


    ¡¸We woke her up, I told you to be quiet.¡¹ Yuko shot up, sitting on her knees as a hand quickly combed over her head.


    "Me!? You¡¯re the one who just put the fear of God in my soul!"


    Knock. Knock. Knock.


    "Are you guys going to sleep any time soon, or¨C?" Lucy¡¯s scruffy mumbles straggled through the thin door.


    While his fianc¨¦ couldn''t help but laugh, Alfred groaned upon hearing his niece just outside his bedroom, gracing his ears and the night with her ever-so-shrill voice.


    ¡¸Sorry, Lu-chan!¡¹ Yuko called towards the door as she lurched her body forward, paused, then plummeted back to bed with a wave of her hand. "We''ll sleep now, promise!"


    Alfred had to applaud her ability to sound so refined as she drifted into a sweaty half-asleep stupor.


    He let out a sigh as footsteps pattered back into the room next door.


    "Now see, if this were the farm or Chicago Id''ve just told her to shut up."


    "Well." Yuko huffed, repositioning her head with a hard thud. "I can assure you, Mister Hampton, this isn''t the farm or Chicago."


    "And I couldn''t be happier, even if your dad¡¯s got it out for me." Alfred''s eyes fluttered shut as his hand floundered under the sheets, finally finding its way to the top of Yuko''s wrist. "We still need to talk about what we''re gonna do, but this is more than enough for now. For tonight."


    And it truly was. As he felt the light pulse of her heart through her skin, her presence and love was enough, no matter the uncertainty waiting for them tomorrow or the days after.


    "Me too." Yuko was far too exhausted to concern herself with the little tears pricking the corners of her eyes.


    She didn''t bother to wipe them away. "You''re enough for me too."

 6: The Sisterhood

    ¡°Oh my God.¡± Amidst the stringent footsteps of the early weekend afternoon, a faint mumble sounded from a park bench. "I''m lost." Stripping her straw hat from her dampened scalp and reaching down to tie her loosened bootlace, Lucy scanned the crowds for anyone, anyone who seemed willing enough to help her find her way.


    It should have been a rather simple task. Normally she would have gone up to nearly any person to ask for directions back home, but here¨C


    But here''s not home.


    Dropping her bootlace and resting a sweaty palm underneath her chin, Lucy swallowed her nerves and looked.


    Her eyes swiped right.


    Maybe her? No, she''s too busy with her kids.


    Her eyes swiped left.


    Him? Oh, so now he avoids eye contact.


    Why the hell did she always have to do these errands by herself?


    It''s good practice for you!


    Yuko and her uncle would say in unison at the door, one of them shoving a shopping list in Lucy''s hands while the other would toss her outside towards the markets near Shinsekai.


    If anything, her uncle should be doing these errands to improve his shoddy Japanese, but after the second trip Lucy stopped trying to wrap her head around their reasoning.


    I''ll give him another week before I officially pin him for a hermit.


    She continued to search the streets for anyone willing to look her way for more than two seconds, fingers drumming anxiously in her lap.


    Nobody.


    Her head fell to gaze at her hands. For a moment she pictured the coal faces her brother would draw on her fingertips during nights neither of them could sleep and the make-believe games that would go on late into the night.


    You get to be the cowboy this time, I get to be the sheriff!


    Lucy dug her fingers further into her lap, nearly bruising her thighs.


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    ¡¸Mom, I''m ti~red! I wanna siii~iit!¡¹


    The cries of an exhausted toddler fell onto Lucy¡¯s ears.


    The small boy trudged behind his mother barefoot with sandals in his hands and kimono sullied with dirt and grass stains.


    Only a hissy fit would end with a kid barefoot and sobbing behind his mom.


    The mother couldn¡¯t have been much older than Lucy, maybe twenty-four, twenty-six at the oldest, and they seemed to be returning from a morning at the nearby Tennoji Zoo.


    Lucy still couldn¡¯t wrap her head around ¡°the joys of motherhood¡± or ¡°the glory of bearing a child¡± or whatever the nuts at church would call it.


    If she wasn¡¯t deterred from it now after helping the midwife deliver her brother years ago, seeing this poor girl with a snot-nosed crying mess clinging to her for life was more than enough to completely turn Lucy off from ¡°maternal bliss.¡±


    I¡¯d sooner join the sisterhood.


    ¡¸Okay, okay, I know you¡¯re tired.¡¹ The pair stumbled over to the bench next to Lucy, only for the mother to scrunch her nose and yank her son behind her. ¡¸Ah!¡¹


    ¡¸Poo! A bird pooped here!!¡¹ The boy grabbed onto his mother¡¯s hip and stuck his tongue out, steady sobs quickly turning into howling laughter.


    While the young boy (and admittedly Lucy herself) found the whole scene to be stupidly laughable, the boy¡¯s mother seemed to be at her wit¡¯s end.


    With a huff and a tisk, she briefly turned towards Lucy¡¯s bench, completely clean and perfectly comfortable for three people.


    Lucy¡¯s palms grew hot.


    ¡¸Um.¡¹ Bunching her skirt and sliding towards the armrest, Lucy motioned for the mother to sit. ¡¸Please?¡¹


    She cringed. Why¡¯d she make it sound like a question?


    Stupid!


    The young mother just stared as if Lucy had three heads, one hand nervously gripping at her son¡¯s shoulder. ¡¸A¡­ah-¡¹


    Lucy could tell she was searching her mind for words, anything. Nothing came out.


    After a few uncomfortable seconds, seconds that really passed like hours, the mother put a hand to her mouth and dragged her son past the bench, past Lucy, and onto the nearby street.


    ¡¸Oh, uh-¡¹ Lucy tried to get their attention once more, a shaking hand waving helplessly in the air. The boy, still barefoot with his sandals in tow, stole a peek back towards Lucy before his mother twisted his head around to face her.


    She¡¯s scolding him.


    Lucy felt her hands go numb.


    Nothing.


    That was what she felt like as she watched the pair float into the crowd, the mother¡¯s wagging finger in her son¡¯s face serving as a reminder that Lucy was different, an oddity.


    And to some, unnerving.


    The numbness spread to her arms. How could she, or anybody live this way?


    She folded her hands as she glanced at the stained bench.


    Maybe the sisterhood wouldn¡¯t have been such a horrible choice after all.

 7: Unsuspecting Foreigner

    ¡¸Miss, please slow down! You¡¯ll get dirt all over your socks!¡¹ Takako, a member of the help at the Takahara household, kept up as quickly as she could next to the lively heiress of the Takahara¡¯s trading company.


    She liked Mieko, she truly did. After all, it was thanks to Mieko¡¯s very existence that Takako was able to work at all-anything relating to Mieko¡¯s daily needs and comforts, Takako was there to provide it. An afternoon of running around town chaperoning a hopelessly naive nineteen-year-old, however, was more than what she bargained for when she originally planned to go for a ¡°quick shopping trip.¡±


    ¡¸I¡¯m sorry Takako, I¡¯m just so-¡¹ Mieko balled her hands into fists as she slowed her pace. ¡¸Agh! Can you believe him!? I can¡¯t believe we¡¯re the same bloodline! I want to see my birth records!¡¹


    A sigh flew from Takako as she gripped the handles on her shopping bag. ¡¸Miss, I¡¯m certain your father wants to see Mister Kamoi as much as you, he¡¯s just not¡­¡¹ She paused, wavering whether or not to finish voicing her thoughts in front of her employer¡¯s daughter. ¡¸Well, your father has always been rather stoic, hasn¡¯t he?¡¹


    ¡¸That¡¯s the polite way of putting it.¡¹ Mieko harrumphed, eyes jumping up and down the street with a hand fussing through her bobbed hair.


    ¡¸Ah, oh my, are you searching for him?¡¹ Takako placed a hand on Mieko¡¯s shoulder, her black waves brushing against Mieko¡¯s cheek as the younger girl turned red.


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    Ever since Takako could remember, Mieko would always insist that they stop at the Ishikawa¡¯s storefront to buy the most ridiculous things.


    One fishing hook please!


    Oh! Ryusuke, what is this made of?


    Ryu-kun, can you show me where you keep the matsuba crabs?


    You¡¯re so knowledgeable about seafood, Ryu-kun!


    ¡¸So what if I am?¡¹ Mieko¡¯s squeaky defense jolted Takako out of her humorous daydreaming. ¡¸That was the one good thing about Kazuma being gone, he wasn¡¯t scaring away anyone who wanted to talk to me!¡¹


    ¡¸I believe you mean any boys who wanted to talk to you.¡¹


    ¡¸Whatever, as long as he¡¯s not home, I¡¯m going to take full advantage of it! Oh-!¡¹


    Takako nearly fell flat on her face, taking Mieko down with her as the heiress skidded to a halt at the street corner.


    ¡¸Look! Look, look.¡¹ Mieko¡¯s voice fell to a low whisper, one hand grasping at Takako¡¯s sleeve while the other pointed at a foreign girl sitting in the nearby park.


    ¡¸Miss, it¡¯s not polite to poin-¡¹


    ¡¸Do you think she¡¯s lost? Look at her! Why is she here? I think she¡¯s lost.¡¹


    Before Takako could reason with her about how most people in public don¡¯t enjoy being harassed by strangers, Mieko was already five steps away from her and headed towards the foreigner.


    With another sigh, Takako trotted after Mieko.


    The poor, unsuspecting foreigner.

 8: A Ruined Kimono

    ¡°Excuse me, are you lost, excuse me, are you lost.¡± Mieko recited those words as if they were a sermon, her excitement spreading further and further across her beaming face with every step.


    I¡¯m finally going to talk to a foreigner who¡¯s not a tutor!


    ¡¸Miss, are you sure this is a good idea?¡¹  Takako held onto Mieko¡¯s wrist as she was dragged further away from the comfort of her usual shopping route. ¡¸We don¡¯t need any trouble!¡¹


    ¡¸Oh don¡¯t tell me, you¡¯re afraid of foreigners too?¡¹ Mieko¡¯s smile morphed from an excited, toothy grin to a sly smirk.


    ¡¸What? I am not afraid! To think I would act so childish-¡¹


    ¡¸Great, then there¡¯s no reason for us not to help her!¡¹


    ¡¸Eh!?¡¹


    Once the pair came a few meters away from the girl now fiddling with her thumbs, Mieko began to wave her free hand frantically in the air.


    ¡°Excuse me, miss! Are you lost?¡±


    That was perfect!


    Mieko was ecstatic. Each syllable perfectly slipped past her lips with no pronunciation errors that she could catch whatsoever. She had led herself and Takako right up next to the bench where the foreign girl sat with her hands in her lap and eyes now fixated on the two women before her.


    ¡°Um-¡± The girl shook her head, eyes blinking in confusion while she tossed a strand of curls behind her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, do you speak English?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Yes I do! I study at home.¡± Mieko held her breath. She could tell that this girl was tired, what with how her voice shook with every word coupled with the gray hue underneath her eyes.


    She definitely needs help!


    Still grabbing at Takako¡¯s wrist, Mieko repeated her question.


    ¡°Are you lost?¡± She noticed how the girl bit her lip, staring down at the tips of her dirt-covered boots as she swiped a finger under her nose.


    ¡°Yes, I am.¡± The girl paused, reaching for her sunhat and placing it atop her head. ¡°Can you tell me where this store is?¡±


    Fishing out a wadded-up scrap of paper from her skirt pocket, she cupped it in one hand and passed it to Mieko.


    Takako couldn¡¯t stop the gasp that escaped her as Mieko casually took the clump of paper.


    Using only one hand? And it¡¯s not even folded? How rude, even if she is a foreigner.


    Taking little notice of the quietly suffering woman behind her, Mieko gingerly unfolded the paper to reveal an address written in smudged ink.


    ¡°Oh! This shop sells vegetables! It is on this street, that way!¡± Mieko gestured towards the street her and Takako originally came from, waving towards the left. ¡°Do you want us to show you?¡± Mieko whipped her head towards Takako, eyes alight with eager determination until Takako shook her head.


    ¡¸I¡¯m sorry miss but we need to be back before your father. We also have to be back before the meat goes bad.¡¹ Takako didn¡¯t need to understand any English to know exactly what Mieko wanted to do next. As an employee for the Takahara household for the past four years, all Takako needed was Mieko¡¯s tone of voice and movements to instantly pinpoint the type of scheme she had up her sleeve.


    Not to mention, after a day of chasing Mieko around the local shopping district, Takako quite frankly had her fill of navigating the crowded marketplace streets and would rather not experience it again while playing tour guide to a foreigner.


    ¡¸Ah! Right, the meat.¡¹ With a dejected huff, Mieko released Takako¡¯s wrist. ¡¸Oh! You could go back without me and I help her!¡¹


    The disapproving look on Takako¡¯s face didn¡¯t budge.


    ¡¸Oh fine.¡¹ Mieko sighed, rolling her eyes before setting her gaze back on the girl in front of her. ¡°What is your name? My name is Mieko. I will draw it for you!" Despite the slight standoffish expression that never left the girl¡¯s face, Mieko was determined to help her in any way that she could with Takako breathing down her neck, eager to go home.


    ¡°My name is¡­Lucy¡­¡± The girl managed to stutter out, head bobbing and confused where to look next as Mieko once again abruptly turned towards Takako.


    ¡¸Can I borrow your pen and notepad?¡¹ A grabby hand reached expectantly towards Takako¡¯s pen and shopping list.


    ¡¸Okay, okay, you want to draw her a map, right? Make it easy.¡¹


    ¡¸I know, I know.¡¹


    After a minute of what Lucy could only describe as erratic scribbling, Mieko handed her a small paper. Sketched on it was only a circle and a rectangle jutting from its side with another rectangle running perpendicular from the middle.


    ¡°Ah-¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± Completely oblivious to the confused, blank stare painted across Lucy¡¯s face, Mieko stabbed a finger on the scribbled circle. ¡°You walk to the street.¡± Another finger swooshed past Takako and towards the road dotted with shops and stands behind them. ¡°And go left! Okay?¡±


    ¡¸Miss, we need to be going-¡¹ Unlike her younger, naively-determined companion, Takako took immediate notice of Lucy¡¯s discomfort and decided to use it to her own advantage.


    She sighed in relief as Lucy rose from the bench, map in her now-quivering hands and face visibly overwhelmed with Mieko¡¯s verbal waterfall of directional jargon.


    ¡°Th-Thank you very much-uwah!¡±


    If Takako could turn back time for this poor, awkward girl, she would have-with a single step after rising from her seat, stepping on a wayward bootlace sent Lucy flying straight for the ground.


    ¡°Ah-!¡± Mieko cried out as Lucy instinctively grabbed ahold of Mieko¡¯s shoulder.


    Takako¡¯s heart stopped as Lucy¡¯s head bumped into Mieko¡¯s forearm, causing the pen which had so generously drawn out Lucy¡¯s saving grace to scratch down the fabric of Mieko¡¯s kimono, leaving a thick inky line in its wake.


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    Once the aftershocks of pain finished coursing through her now surely bruised knees, Lucy raised her pounding head and assessed the situation.


    There was no blood, no scratches, the helpful girl in the fancy kimono was also on the ground-


    She froze.


    The helpful girl in the fancy kimono was also on the ground.


    With a huge ink stain all over the front of her clothes.


    ¡°Oh-¡±


    ¡®Oh my god¡¯ was what Lucy felt inclined to say, to cry out to the great beyond and ask ¡®why the hell her,¡¯ but her lips refused to move.


    ¡°H-huh?¡± Mieko rubbed her neck.


    Well, so much for not getting my socks dirty. Her eyes peered up towards Takako, who looked as if she had just witnessed the crime of the century.


    ¡°What-AH.¡± Just as she began to brush off the dirt and dust from her sleeves, Mieko saw it.


    If she thought her father had a ball and chain around her leg before, both its weight and size quadrupled at that very moment.


    ¡°I¡­am so sorry.¡± Lucy¡¯s voice squirmed its way up her throat, coming out as a pathetic squeak. Knees still scrapped against the hot dirt ground, she swore she saw her already-dim financial future fly right into the sunset, never to be seen again for at least the next twenty years.


    ¡¸Miss! Are you alright?¡¹ As Lucy struggled to concoct a plan to finance replacing an indigo-dyed, embroidered silk kimono, Takako reached down for Mieko¡¯s hand and yanked her upright. ¡¸Your father-!¡¹


    ¡¸Agh, don¡¯t say his name!¡¹


    Both of Mieko¡¯s trembling hands grabbed at her head, blurred vision settling on Lucy still wallowing in the dirt below.


    ¡°Are you okay!?¡± Escaping from Takako¡¯s protective grip, Mieko leaned down and extended one hand to Lucy.


    ¡°Y-yes.¡± Lucy mumbled through winces and groans, eyes warily inspecting Mieko¡¯s scratched-up hand. ¡°Wait, what about you!? Your clothes, your¡­everything!¡±


    Mieko held back a scoff as Lucy took her hand, blue eyes bouncing from the cursed ink stain to the dusty rat¡¯s nest that was now Mieko¡¯s usually shining bob.


    ¡¸It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s¡­okay.¡¹ Mieko tried to console Lucy. She knew it was an accident, but her voice trailed off as she herself had absolutely no idea how to explain this priceless-antique-turned-disaster of a kimono to her father.


    ¡°I¡­I have Fels Naptha at home.¡± Again, Lucy¡¯s words came out as gurgled stutters and mumbles. ¡°I can get it for you, it¡¯s strong.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t believe this is what her shopping trip had come to-banking her future livelihood on a bar of noxious fumes, solidified and claiming to be soap.


    ¡°Fe¡­fel¡­what?¡± Mieko asked.


    ¡¸What is she saying?¡¹ Takako hissed, eyebrows knitting together in frustration as her eyes rolled towards the sky.


    ¡¸I said I have soap, a special kind.¡¹ Lucy spat back with precision and spunk, far too busy steaming over Takako¡¯s demeaning remark to notice Mieko¡¯s turmoil morphing into a state of shock.


    For a moment, Takako felt her heart stop.


    ¡¸Japanese? You-¡¹


    ¡¸You speak Japanese!?¡¹ Mieko squealed, taking Lucy¡¯s hands and cupping them in between her own.


    Despite the dismal situation she had landed herself in, Lucy couldn¡¯t help the slight grin splitting through the corners of her mouth.


    ¡¸So-so.¡¹


    ¡¸Ooooh!¡¹ Mieko''s fingers tightened their grab onto Lucy''s hands, cheeks turning red as her mouth rounded into an ''o.'' ¡¸Amazing! Isn''t it amazing, Takako!?¡¹


    ¡¸Mmm.¡¹


    Hands clasped in front of her obi and lips pursed into a curt grin, Takako feigned admiration for Mieko''s sake.


    She said one sentence¡­


    ¡¸Um...Miss Mieko.¡¹ Lucy drew her attention back towards the ruined kimono in front of her, fighting back the urge to bite back at Takako for a second time. ¡¸If...you come to my house? We can wash it.¡¹


    Why do I keep making things sound like a question!


    Puffing out her cheeks, Mieko held in a laugh as Lucy''s boggled thoughts seeped out onto her reddened face, plain as day.


    ¡¸It''s not your fault, it was an accident!¡¹ Mieko hushed, her hand now waving dismissively in front of her chest.


    ¡¸Wait-¡¹ Mieko¡¯s hand jerked to a halt as Lucy''s words finally registered.


    ¡¸Your house?¡¹ Takako cried, earning the group even more wary stares than they had already attracted during their previous mishap.


    ¡¸We can come to your house?¡¹ Mieko bellowed over Takako once again.


    ¡¸Miss-¡¹


    ¡¸And your family? They speak English too?¡¹


    ¡¸Miss-¡¹


    ¡¸Yes, my uncle is also American-¡¹ Lucy smirked as Takako visibly grew more and more distraught at Mieko''s growing intrigue.


    ¡¸Miss!¡¹


    Mieko¡¯s shoulders jerked up towards her ears, reluctantly taking notice of Takako¡¯s reprimanding yells.


    Tiny hands tracing patterns onto the sullied fabric of her kimono, Mieko delicately swooped her head towards Takako, cheeks rosy and eyes shining.


    ¡¸Yes?¡¹


    Takako jumped backwards, the shopping bag clasped between her hands becoming suddenly very heavy.


    Don¡¯t fall for it, Takako.


    She took a breath and briefly shut her eyes.


    ¡¸We are going home. You have lessons with Mister Fosters in one hour.¡¹


    She could feel her legs tensing as Mieko stared at her, one second with a look of utter betrayal and disappointment and the next with cunning mischief.


    ¡¸That¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll change into new clothes once we get home.¡¹


    ¡¸Really?¡¹ Takako felt the hot flash ready to splash through her nerve-wracked body suddenly dissipate as Mieko traded her sly grin for a serene smile.


    ¡¸Mhm, I¡¯ll hide this kimono-¡¹


    ¡¸What?¡¹


    ¡¸Until we go to Lucy¡¯s house tomorrow and have it washed.¡¹


    ¡¸What!?¡¹


    Mieko jolted her head back as Takako¡¯s shrill voice morphed with a howl from Lucy.


    ¡¸Tomorrow is¡­tomorrow?¡¹


    Lucy¡¯s mouth grew dry, her forehead starting to prickle with even more sweat as Mieko¡¯s matter-of-fact declaration forked her fate-either that damn Fels Naptha would save her poor behind, or Lucy was going to be an indentured servant until she was forty.


    ¡¸Yes! If your schedule is open! If we wait any longer¡­¡¹ Mieko¡¯s gaze was still locked on Takako¡¯s now sickly pale face. ¡¸My father will definitely find out, and I¡¯m afraid he¡¯ll give us quite a hard time.¡¹


    Lucy followed Mieko¡¯s eyes towards Takako, now stiff as a board and white as a ghost.


    Is this girl serious?


    Takako was going to lose her job-at least, that was the impression Lucy had scraped from the current aura between Mieko and her companion, whom Lucy could now pin as a fellow low-man-on-the-totem-pole employed by Mieko¡¯s family.


    With a half-smile strained across her cheeks, Lucy grit her teeth and sighed.


    ¡¸Would noon be possible?¡¹


    Takako held her breath, eyes wide and lips parted as Lucy¡¯s unexpected but certainly welcome suggestion sounded throughout the group.


    ¡¸Yes! Yes, that''s perfect. We¡¯re open tomorrow, right Takako?¡¹


    ¡¸Yes¡­yes tomorrow.¡¹


    Mieko bounced up and down as much as her wooden sandals would allow her, hands once again grabbing for Takako¡¯s arm and shoulder.


    Lucy noted Takako¡¯s wary stare, her brown eyes lidded with a silent, stubborn gratitude Lucy knew would never be voiced.


    ¡¸Your address? What is your address?¡¹ Mieko squeaked, still bouncing in place while trapping Takako with an iron grip.


    Lucy¡¯s stomach knotted as Takako¡¯s gaze again fell to the ground.


    She swallowed her morals and sighed again.


    ¡¸Still got that pen?¡¹

 9: Something Smells

    ¡°Luce, this cabbage stinks! Didn¡¯t you check and make sure what ya bought was harvested this decade?¡± Alfred grumbled as he impaled a piece of carrot with his chopsticks, nearly missing his target and sending it flying straight into Yuko¡¯s eye.


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ll be sure to find one that smells like a fresh meadow next time, maybe get some rice mixed with diamonds while I¡¯m at it.¡± Lucy poked at her pile of rice, debating whether or not to drown it in soy sauce while her uncle continued to grumble to himself from across the table.


    ¡°We¡¯ll get something nice to eat sometime next week, once we finish cleaning the house.¡± Yuko sighed, elbow digging into the table as she eyed her own barren, nearly colorless plate.


    She was not used to this. Just how on earth did anyone dine this way? No fish, no meat, no color on her plate besides the smelly cabbage and brown soy sauce.


    Her eyes traveled across her plate towards Lucy, her shoulders stiff and cheeks quivering.


    ¡¸Lu-chan, you don¡¯t have to sit seiza.¡¹ Yuko giggled, further taking notice of the younger girl¡¯s awkwardly arched back and wiggling hips.


    ¡°Oh, I gave up on that ten minutes ago.¡± Lucy blew a piece of hair off her nose as she repositioned herself. ¡°I¡¯m just not made for sitting on a hard floor for more than five minutes.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Yuko hummed as she managed to stomach a spoonful of stale rice. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t explain how quiet you¡¯ve been all evening, you¡¯ve barely said anything since you came back.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Lucy scratched the back of her neck, chest tightening as Yuko rested her chin in her palms. ¡°About that¡­when I was shopping I kind of-¡±


    Yuko failed to stifle the sly gasp and ¡°oooh¡¯s¡± escaping her lips as her mind went wild. ¡¸You met someone? You did! Look at you, you¡¯re blushing!¡¹ One hand shot across the table to slap at Lucy¡¯s wrist.


    ¡°Oh, I met someone.¡± Lucy eyed her uncle, praying that he would call off his fiance¡¯s interrogation.


    ¡°Well is he rich?¡± Alfred muffled with a piece of cabbage sticking out from his mouth. ¡°How much you think he make?¡±


    ¡°Al!¡± Yuko whipped her head towards Alfred, both hands now locking around Lucy¡¯s wrist. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    ¡°Whaddaya mean it doesn¡¯t matter!? I¡¯m starving over here!¡±


    ¡°What matters is how he treats her!¡± Yuko turned back towards Lucy, eyes squinting and gleaming with coy curiosity. ¡°But¡­did he look like he had money? What was he wearing?¡±


    ¡°See, it does matter!¡±


    ¡°Okay-¡± Lucy yanked her hands away from Yuko¡¯s grip and balled them into her lap. ¡°I can¡¯t do this.¡± She shook her head as a tsunami swam its way up her throat.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Now or never, I guess.


    ¡°So, I met a girl, and she spoke English, and I was lost, and she drew me a map, and I fell, and she fell, and I ruined her kimono, and now her and her servant or whatever are coming over tomorrow to use our Fels Naptha soap.¡± Lucy held her breath, hands now in the air and fingers pointing every which way as if to map out her convoluted story. As she expected, Alfred and Yuko were statuesque, eyes blown wide and mouths agape. ¡°Oh, yeah, and if I can¡¯t clean it, I¡¯m probably gonna have to pay for it- where¡¯s the soy sauce-?¡±


    ¡°Woah! Woah woah woah woah woah.¡± Just before Lucy¡¯s fingers brushed against the glass bottle, Alfred swiped it off the table and cradled it to his chest as if it held liquid gold. ¡°Pay for it!? With what, expired food and tears!?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s Fels Naptha?¡± Yuko¡¯s voice turned sharp as she picked at the skin of her nail beds, eyes lidded and steely under her lashes as they bored into Lucy for an answer.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s soap that can clean anything. Apparently¡­¡± Lucy ate her remaining explanation as Yuko¡¯s brows became raised and her uncle¡¯s head fell into his hands.


    ¡°Apparently?¡± Alfred groaned. ¡°Great, you don¡¯t even know-¡±


    ¡°At least I¡¯m trying! If this happened to you I¡¯d bet everything I have you wouldn¡¯t have even apologized, let alone try to fix anything!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a smart way for you to bet when you don¡¯t own anything!¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡± Yuko raised her voice while her fingers snapped for Lucy and Alfred¡¯s attention. ¡°Can we have one evening where you two aren¡¯t fighting? Hm?¡±


    Her eyes were wide as her head swooped from one bickering family member to the next. ¡°It¡¯s already done, Lucy invited them. Let¡¯s just pray that I don¡¯t know them.¡±


    Lucy¡¯s heart jumped. How could she forget? Yuko wasn¡¯t always living in a run-down house with squeaky floors and drafty windows-she was a chemist-turned-professor¡¯s daughter, from a highly respected family with connections spanning across some of the area¡¯s most influential circles.


    ¡°Yuko, I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t thinking about-¡±


    ¡¸No, I know you weren¡¯t thinking.¡¹ Two fingers massaged Yuko¡¯s throbbing temple as she tried to keep her voice calm. ¡¸But what''s done is done. There''s no way to get out of this now.¡¹


    "You and him could go out for the day." Lucy waved a hand towards her uncle, whose head had retreated behind his hands.


    Yuko shook her head. "No, I need to be here in case something happens. If there''s a misunderstanding."


    Lucy couldn''t help but laugh with a flimsy roll of her eyes. "I''ll be fine-"


    "She''s not going out, I¡¯m not going out, we''re all going to be here." Both women froze as Alfred jumped from his seat, fork hanging from his mouth and his still-full plate gathered in his hands.


    ¡°Can¡¯t let you outside without raising hell, you think we¡¯re gonna let you be alone with two strangers in here?¡±


    Lucy grit her teeth, taut smile fading and her blood pressure rising as her uncle scoffed and made his way into the kitchen across the hall.


    Her gaze went towards Yuko yet again as a hand fell on top of her shaking arm. The usual warmth and tenderness that Lucy had grown so accustomed to had returned to Yuko¡¯s eyes, and Lucy couldn¡¯t help but take a swipe at her own as a tear caught on her eyelash.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to.¡± The words hurt coming up. She hadn¡¯t expected apologizing for this incident, for offering to help someone, but it was wholly apparent that good deeds would never go unpunished in the eyes of her uncle so long as it somehow involved her.


    Yuko steadied her grip on Lucy¡¯s wrist, eyes fluttering shut as her other hand rubbed Lucy¡¯s arm. ¡°I know.¡±


    Clang. Slam.


    Both women flinched.

 10: Wheat and Corn

    ¡¸Agh! My hair!¡¹ A gust of wind attacked Mieko''s head as she and Takako wound in and out of narrow alleyways and side roads.


    Fruitlessly attempting to keep her tabi socks free from the dirt flying up from the ground with each hesitant step, Takako couldn''t help but roll her eyes. ¡¸Miss, did you see that girl¡¯s head the other day? You certainly have no need to fuss over two unruly strands.¡¹


    Mieko sighed, hands grasping for a wooden wall beside her as she waddled through a puddle of mud. ¡¸First impressions are everything! Not to mention she¡¯s welcoming us into her home, it¡¯s common courtesy to make yourself look the best you can!¡¹


    ¡¸First impressions?¡¹ Takako''s nails dug into the fabric cover swaddling Mieko''s dirtied kimono. ¡¸Oh goodness, that¡¯s right.¡¹


    There¡¯s more of them¡­


    She huffed as she held the crudely drawn map and address arm''s length away, scanning the streets for anything remotely resembling Lucy''s pathetic scribble of a house.


    Why did this have to happen to her? Why couldn''t it have been Kazuma? He knew English at least! And it was a miracle Mieko¡¯s ¡°shopping¡± excuse worked on her father twice in one week, on two consecutive days no less!


    In the heat of her self-pity, Takako had half a mind to toss the kimono into the dirt and leave the godforsaken thing for a tanuki.


    ¡¸She said her uncle is also American! Why do you think they¡¯re here? Do you think they¡¯re teachers? Or maybe they work at a church? Like Mrs. O¡¯Halloran¡¯s husband! Or maybe-¡¹


    ¡¸Miss.¡¹ Takako interjected, eyes already heavy and head pounding from Mieko¡¯s blabbering. ¡¸We¡¯re here¡­I think.¡¹


    She took another glance at the paper between her fingers. This had to be the house. It was by far the most unkempt on the street, with its dirtied walls and mucky windows.


    ¡¸We came here of all places to clean something?¡¹


    ¡¸Looks like it! Wait!¡¹ Mieko hopped on the tips of her sandals, plucking a wayward leaf out from Takako¡¯s sleek bun. ¡¸Both of us need to be presentable, you know!¡¹


    Takako held in a groan as Mieko jumped towards the door, rapping a total of four times before a woman¡¯s voice made its way to the opposite side.


    ¡¸Yes, yes!¡¹


    Takako held her breath and nearly choked on her own saliva as the door slid open. The woman smiling down at Mieko and ushering them inside was gorgeous. She was absolutely everything most modern women could only dream of embodying: perfect skin, sparkling, dark eyes, glossed ebony hair that shimmered in the sun.


    Takako couldn¡¯t bring herself to look any further beyond her angelic face, lest an irrational jealousy take over all inklings of reasonable thinking she had allotted herself for this escapade.


    ¡¸You must be Miss Mieko! My name is Yuko, please come in!¡¹


    Mieko was visibly just as taken aback as Takako at the woman¡¯s beauty, stuttering for about five seconds before managing to introduce herself.


    ¡¸Ah-yes, yes! Thank you for having us!¡¹ Mieko bowed her head to the point that Takako was certain she was going to smack her forehead on the ground. ¡¸This-this is Takako, she works for my family!¡¹


    Takako cringed as Mieko patted her on the back, urging her to bow while Mieko bumped past her and into the house.


    ¡¸Please, please, come in!¡¹ With Mieko already slipping off her sandals inside, Yuko¡¯s perfectly sing-song voice welcomed Takako into the narrow entryway.


    With a smile forced on her face, Takako cringed again.


    As the two were led further in the house, down the hallway and into a sitting room, Takako¡¯s mind was quickly turning to mush trying to grasp the already-incomprehensible story unfolding before her.


    How can a woman like that live in a house like this?


    Yuko may have been inconceivably, irritatingly stunning, but it seemed like her luck ran dry from there - she was practically living in squalor. Wooden boxes splayed across the dented floor, yellowed windows, dust everywhere, including on the very pillows Yuko was gesturing for them to sit on.


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    Not to mention-


    Takako flinched.


    ¡°For god¡¯s sake, would ya stop complaining about every little thing? How the hell was I supposed to know?¡±


    Living with foreigners.


    A man¡¯s voice began to yell out in what Takako presumed was English.


    As Mieko and Takako settled into their seats, a tall man with glasses followed by the young woman with messy hair from the day prior came into view from the hallway.


    Lucy, Takako had somehow remembered her name, had her hands on her hips and back turned from the sitting room.


    ¡°Are you serious? Yeah, how were you not supposed to know we would need our money for food and not a bottle of God-knows-what-alcohol?¡± She slapped the side of her head as the man began to roll his eyes. ¡°Silly me, how on earth did I think a man in his forties could somehow make sound financial decisions for his family.¡± She clapped her hands together as her voice raised with every word, leaving the man unphased and, to Takako¡¯s surprise, laughing.


    His blue eyes eventually traveled from the top of Lucy¡¯s head over towards the three women in the room.


    ¡°Hello ladies!¡±


    ¡°What? What the hell are you talking abo-¡± Lucy froze as he started to bow. A quick turn of her head revealed the two women from yesterday, sitting all prim and proper on their pillows with Yuko standing behind them.


    ¡°Oh Go-¡±


    ¡°Good to meet you!¡± Alfred sang as he sauntered past Lucy and into the room. ¡°Sorry about my niece, she¡¯s not really one for social graces!¡± He released an exasperated sigh with a shrug of his shoulders.


    Just as Lucy turned and was about to protest, Takako let out a playful giggle from behind her hand.


    ¡¸Nice to meet you.¡¹


    Both Lucy and Mieko furrowed their brows, baffled at Takako¡¯s uncharacteristic friendliness, towards someone speaking words she didn¡¯t understand, no less.


    Yuko, on the other hand, felt her skin prickle as her stomach did flips.


    ¡°Al, dear, would you mind getting some tea? It¡¯s already made, and I cleaned the cups on the table in the kitchen.¡± Yuko flashed him a smile, relishing in how he blushed and gave her a wink before jumping past Lucy towards the kitchen.


    ¡¸My, your husband is so hospitable.¡¹ Takako eyed Yuko as she took a seat opposite her and Mieko. ¡¸That¡¯s so interesting, does he often serve the guests instead of you?¡¹


    Why the hell is it any of your business?


    Lucy¡¯s thoughts nearly dared to make their way past her lips as she took the seat next to Yuko.


    Just as Lucy was about to greet Mieko across from her, Yuko replied to Takako¡¯s questioning.


    ¡¸We¡¯re engaged.¡¹ She cooly quipped with a satisfied grin on her face. ¡¸And he loves to meet new people, he¡¯s always this cordial to everyone he meets. It¡¯s one of his best qualities.¡¹


    Despite being of the humble opinion that Yuko was leagues above her uncle and could have much, much better, Lucy silently applauded her strength to hold her own - especially against this guest who had already overstayed her welcome.


    ¡°Mieko.¡± Yuko switched her attention from the now-frozen Takako over towards the young lady across from Lucy. ¡°Lucy tells me you know English. How wonderful! Have you ever been abroad before?¡±


    Mieko shimmied forward on her knees, eyes wide and smile beaming as Yuko¡¯s lovely English poured into her ears.


    ¡°Yes! Yes, I learn English at home!¡± She nodded excitedly, hips bouncing up and down as she continued. ¡°No, I have never been to another country!¡±


    Takako did her best to hold back an eye roll as she felt Mieko¡¯s little hops vibrate through her cushion.


    Yuko pursed her painted lips into a coy grin once she heard Alfred step in from the hallway.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure Al would love to tell you all about America.¡± She whipped her head up towards Alfred, her fingers brushing against his own as she gingerly reached for the tea tray. ¡°Thank you, dear.¡± She cooed, quickly locking eyes with Takako while setting the tea.


    ¡°Heard my name, what¡¯re we talking about?¡± Alfred plopped down at the head of the table beside Mieko and Lucy.


    Before Yuko could reply, Mieko dove in. ¡°You are from America? Wow! Where..where are you from?¡±


    Alfred shot a glance at Lucy, searching her apathetic face for any answer that wouldn¡¯t crush the poor girl¡¯s naive enthusiasm.


    ¡°We¡¯re from South Dakota.¡± Lucy said as she idly fiddled with her hair.


    ¡°South Dakota.¡± Mieko repeated the name to herself. It sounded like another world, somewhere much more interesting and exciting than Osaka, with the same gossip and to make things even worse, no Kazuma for her to laugh at it all with. ¡°What is in South Dakota?¡±


    ¡°Corn.¡± Alfred and Lucy replied in unison, waiting for Mieko¡¯s sparkling eyes to grow dim and disappointed, only for her to press on further.


    ¡°Ah! Corn! Amazing! What else is in South Dakota? Oh! Is there a North Dakota?¡±


    ¡°Wheat.¡±


    ¡°Nothing, and North Dakota is even worse, don¡¯t get me started!¡±


    Lucy and Yuko glared at Alfred, Lucy having half a mind to verbally assault him in front of their company.


    Remember where you came from, I see.


    ¡¸Lucy, why don¡¯t you and Mieko take the kimono to the wash room? Alfred and I can handle Miss Takako.¡¹ Yuko¡¯s grin still didn¡¯t waver.


    ¡¸Ah¡­handle?¡¹ Lucy repeated.


    Yuko¡¯s curt nod confirmed Lucy¡¯s suspicions - she was not a fan of Takako.


    ¡°Okay, um¡­¡± Lucy slowly stood from her cushion, nodding towards Mieko. ¡¸I can take your-¡¹


    A white bundle surfaced from Takako¡¯s lap and suddenly slid across the table, bumping into Lucy¡¯s leg.


    ¡¸...kimono.¡¹ It took every fiber of Lucy¡¯s being to ignore Takako and remain focused on Mieko, now standing next to her and eager to explore the house.


    ¡¸Follow me.¡¹ Reaching for the silk bundle, Lucy gestured for Mieko to follow her back into the hallway.


    Never thought I¡¯d be happy to be doing laundry.


    Without a bow nor a single glance in Takako¡¯s direction, Mieko dashed out of the room with Lucy.

 11: Deadbeats and Trust Funds

    ¡¸Finally.¡¹ Mieko huffed out a sigh as they were out of earshot from the sitting room. ¡¸She¡¯s so noisy, I¡¯m sorry. I wish I could have come alone today!¡¹


    Mieko grumbled to herself while snatching the kimono bundle from Lucy¡¯s hands.


    ¡¸Oh-¡¹


    ¡¸And so rude! Throwing this at you, who does she think she is?¡¹


    Lucy couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at Mieko¡¯s directness. Although at the end of the day Takako was clearly beneath Mieko and it often unfortunately showed, Lucy was grateful she wasn''t the only one who found the woman irritating to no end.


    ¡¸No, it¡¯s okay.¡¹ Lucy laughed again, turning the corner and sliding the door to the washing room. ¡¸I¡¯m sure she has a lot of responsibility, working for a family like yours.¡¹


    ¡¸Like mine?¡¹ Mieko repeated as she followed behind Lucy, eyebrows taut and forehead wrinkled in confusion.


    "Well.¡± Lucy huffed, banging on the sink faucet until spurts of water began to flow from the rusty pipe. ¡¸You¡­your family is rich, right? If you have a helper.¡¹


    Lucy stopped herself there, trying her best not to make her digging too obvious.


    With how Takako and Yuko were already battling it out as soon as they all sat down, proper introductions regarding the Takaharas were yet to happen.


    ¡°Ah¡­hm, I guess you¡¯re right!¡± Mieko thought to herself as she returned the kimono to Lucy, seating herself on a rickety wooden stool next to the wash basin. ¡¸Sometimes I forget how fortunate we are!¡¹


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Lucy reached for the fels naptha and gently scrubbed at the black stain, the knots in her stomach quickly unraveling as ink slowly but surely made its way down the drain. ¡°So what does your family do?¡±


    ¡°My dad does trading!¡±


    ¡°Trading?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Um...World business?¡± Mieko cocked her head to the side. If only Mrs. O¡¯Halloran were here to help!


    ¡°Ah, ok¡­I see.¡± Lucy turned her head to give Mieko an understanding nod, holding back a laugh at the contrast of such an elegant girl sitting pretty on a dirty wooden stool next to a tub of milky water.


    As she scrubbed, she wondered to herself if Yuko did in fact know any of the Takaharas and she was simply hiding it for the time being.


    ¡°This house is so interesting.¡± Mieko mumbled from her seat. ¡°I¡¯ve never been in a house this old! Your family seems so much fun!¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, they¡¯re thrilling.¡± Lucy shook her head, trying her best to bite her tongue as she began to rinse away the soap.


    If only washing away her own problems were this easy.


    ¡°Your parents? They are in America? Or here?¡± Mieko rested her face in her hands, noticing the sudden halt of Lucy¡¯s arms as soon as Mieko¡¯s question left her mouth.


    Lucy felt a wave of nausea come over her as the question hung in the air, clearly no signs of leaving until Mieko had her answer.


    With a turn of her wrist the water stopped, and Lucy was left with seconds to think of an acceptable answer, one that wouldn¡¯t leave her a crying disaster in front of this privileged, happy-go-lucky girl who could never understand.


    ¡°Um, yeah.¡± She breathed, swinging on her heel and gently hanging the kimono on the drying rail. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re in America.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t necessarily a lie. They were in America per se, their bodies at least. Lucy had just hoped and prayed tirelessly that the part of them that truly mattered had somehow made their way well beyond the disastrous shitshow known as earth.


    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Mieko¡¯s palms grew sweaty against her silk-covered knees, not quite sure what to make of Lucy¡¯s curt reply coupled with her motor-like movements.


    It was as if Lucy had completely forgotten Mieko was even there to begin with-her blue eyes barely blinked, hands quickly and precisely hanging the dripping-wet kimono dangerously close to Mieko¡¯s shoulder.


    The younger girl wracked her brain for another ice-breaker. ¡¸Your parents must be so impressed, and proud! You came all the way here without them, that¡¯s amazing.¡±


    The hair on Mieko¡¯s neck stood to attention as Lucy finally looked her way. Chills ebbed up Mieko¡¯s back at the sudden change in Lucy¡¯s demeanor. The spunky young woman with the charming yet sarcastic attitude Mieko was quickly becoming accustomed to had transformed into a spector-like mute with the flip of a switch.


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    The light breeze flowing through the window came to a halt, leaving the two women in complete silence until Lucy found her voice.


    ¡¸My parents are dead.¡¹ Hands still gripping the sleeves of the damp kimono, Lucy managed to mutter four words before having to swallow back tears. ¡¸That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. It was either one of the backwards men from my town, or my uncle and his girlfriend.¡¹ She crossed her arms as she leaned against the wash basin.


    Not a word came from Mieko as she lurched forward, inviting Lucy to tell her story-one that clearly had been bottled up inside without counsel for far too long.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Lucy mumbled, running a hand through her hair and shaking her head. ¡¸I¡¯m sorry, it still kind of recently happened.¡¹


    ¡¸No, no, don¡¯t apologize!¡¹ Mieko waved a hand in front of her face. ¡¸Losing both of your parents, I can¡¯t imagine that. My mother is already gone, so I only have my father.¡¹


    ¡°Oh.¡± Lucy frowned. ¡°Your mom is dead?¡± A pang of guilt shot through her stomach. Although it was clear Mieko had certainly what most would view as a life of luxury, Lucy quickly reminded herself that money could never substitute family.


    ¡¸Oh! No, no, not dead. She left my father.¡¹ Mieko replied with a matter-of-fact nod. Lifting herself from her stool, her hands moved to inspect the sleeves of her washed kimono.


    ¡¸I¡¯m so sorry.¡¹ Lucy breathed, her condolences sounding more like a question as she tried to make sense of Mieko¡¯s carefree response.


    Is she not close with her mother?


    Lucy could certainly relate to such a sentiment, but she would never be so nonchalant about a divorce.


    ¡¸You still see her?¡¹


    ¡¸That would be nice, wouldn¡¯t it?¡¹ Mieko humphed over her shoulder, fingers still fiddling with the ends of the kimono sleeves. ¡¸¡®Think about your future! A day with her and all my effort will be for nothing!¡¯¡¹ Black strands of hair caught on Mieko¡¯s cheeks as she spun towards Lucy, fully satisfied with her unrehearsed impression of her father. ¡¸¡®As if Kazuma isn¡¯t bad enough already, hah!¡¯¡¹


    ¡¸Kazuma?¡¹ Lucy raised a brow, wrestling with herself whether to laugh along or call for the girl to be sent to the nearest loony bin.


    ¡¸Oh, that¡¯s my father¡¯s work partner.¡¹ Mieko shrugged. ¡¸And yes, by the way, my father does sound that crazy! It¡¯s no surprise she left him!¡¹ Arms crossed, she humphed again, head down and completely oblivious to the bewildered girl beside her.


    "I''m...sorry that happened to your family." Lucy managed to mutter, shifting her attention momentarily to the damp floor below. It had been so long since talks of death and parents had weaseled their ugly heads into a conversation that didn¡¯t start and end in yelling.


    ¡¸No, no I can¡¯t blame her! If I finally realized I married the wrong person I would leave them too!¡¹ She rested an elbow on the wash basin, eyeing Lucy with a mixture of admiration and envy. ¡°I do wish I could have a family like yours though. Oh-!¡± A hand shot up to cover her mouth as Mieko realized how her words sounded. ¡°Not your parents, I mean your uncle and Miss Yuko! They seem like a fun pair to be with!¡±


    "I...um-" Lucy was at a loss for words. She twirled her hair like a fool and fumbled for something that would steer the conversation away from her current mess of affairs. Never had anyone told her how lucky she was for living with her "deadbeat uncle" and "trust fund auntie."


    ¡°It¡¯s hard, since everything happened, it¡¯s been really long and hard.¡± Lucy crossed her arms, brain running rampant wondering where exactly to go with this. ¡°You always hear ¡®oh, family is all you need!¡¯ That¡¯s nice, and I agree, but money makes things even better. I would know, since we have none.¡± She made an ¡®X¡¯ with her arms, half-expecting Mieko to either laugh at her sudden charades or pity her.


    Mieko peered up at the ceiling, a finger daintily pressing against her lips in thought. ¡¸Hm.¡¹ She shrugged. ¡¸I guess you¡¯re right!¡¹


    Mieko was never able to recall a particular time when she went to bed hungry, had nothing to wear, nor even a time when she was left alone to her own devices for a day. Something was always planned for her-her meals, her wardrobe, her company-and although she grew to resent the rigid framework of her life, she would be lying if she said it wasn¡¯t a comforting safety net of sorts, cloaking her from the mundane fears of the masses.


    ¡°Yep.¡± Lucy scoffed. Tired eyes studying the flighty girl lost in a daydream, Lucy couldn''t help but imagine for herself what a day in Mieko¡¯s life would entail. Food already prepared and on the table before stomachs even started to rumble, clothing laid out and pressed by someone else for the pleasurable day to come, no dreaded laundry.


    ¡°Hey, Luce! That thing dry yet or what?¡± Both girls leapt at Alfred¡¯s voice booming down the hall and into the washing room.


    ¡°Um.¡± Lucy chuckled as she looked at the dripping kimono. ¡°No?¡± She furrowed her brows and shot a smirk of disbelief towards Mieko.


    ¡°We can come back!¡± Mieko¡¯s hands whipped together in a clap, dreamy brown eyes regaining their fervent glimmer as the wheels in her head turned. ¡°We can come back.¡± She repeated to herself, half of her brain concocting a game plan to return.


    Lucy merely nodded, her thin lips lined in a pondering frown. ¡°Well, of course. It will probably take a day or so for it to dry.¡± Her words began to trail off as realization hit-forget Mieko, having Takako in their house again? Would Yuko even allow it?


    ¡¸It¡¯s okay Lu-chan, Miss Mieko can come back any time!¡¹


    As if she had read Lucy''s mind, Yuko¡¯s cheery voice flowed down the hall, a stark contrast from Alfred¡¯s brash shouting.


    Lucy took note of the absence of Takako¡¯s name in Yuko¡¯s invitation.


    ¡°Great! Next time, maybe we can stay longer!¡± Mieko chirped.


    She grinned, taking Lucy¡¯s arms and leading them out into the hall.

 12: Meet Mame...and Kazuma

    "You''re days late." The steely greeting Mister Takahara mumbled as he opened the door would have sent most running for the hills, but Kazuma had always been the exception.


    "A wonderful welcome, as always." The younger man bowed to his superior before stepping into the entryway and sliding off his shoes.


    "It''s not like you to have such a frazzled appearance." Mister Takahara frowned in disdain at the muddied state of his partner''s dress shoes. "I''m not sure about abroad, but over here, it''s expected for a man of principles to take pride in being the face of his company."


    Kazuma shook his head, the edges of his mustache twitching upwards as a smirk played on his lips. He hung his hat and coat before following the older man into the foyer. "It has been raining with blustering winds across the country for three days." He fiddled with his tie as they walked past the garden and Mister Takahara''s office, sluggish eyes surveying for any slight changes in the nostalgic home he had been a stranger to for three years. "Or have you not noticed, being an eternal slave to your desk?" Kazuma stifled a chuckle as his eyebrows rose expectantly.


    "Hah, and what of you?" Mister Takahara groaned and glanced behind him. His eyes were ablaze with a glare nostalgic to Kazuma. "I expect that you have returned home with more than enough expertise to guarantee your position here."


    Kazuma couldn''t help but release a laugh, flipping his head up towards the ceiling as a hand ran through his hair. "My my, if I hadn''t known better, I would have taken that as a threat!"


    "What makes you so sure you do know better? A man''s priorities can change quite a bit in three years, including mine." Mister Takahara slowed as he approached the door to the tea room, shifting his body ever so slightly and allowing Kazuma a glimpse into his aged, strained stare. "So tell me, what now makes you worthy of calling my company yours?"


    Booming laughter sounded from Kazuma once more.


    So predictable, even after years without so much as a letter in the mail.


    "Perhaps you should tell me, Tatsuo." He cocked his head to the side, matching his teacher''s unblinking glare. "Have you found anyone better?"


    After three years away on the man''s dime, the question needn''t be answered, really.


    Kazuma relished momentarily in the flustered scoffs sputtering from his host''s mouth, waiting eagerly for some more well-missed banter.


    Just as Mister Takahara was about to muster a reply, a sudden strain of howls and pants seeped into the hallway followed by a thud and a groan.


    "No- no! Mame! We have to wait-agh!"


    Both men drew their attention to two white paws, and eventually a black snout, frantically sliding open the tea room door.


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    Kazuma''s eyes nearly popped out of his head as his heart swelled. "Is that-"


    A large black shiba inu attempted to charge through the door opening and towards the two men in the hall, but her girth didn''t allow for such an assault - the poor thing was caught whining and panting in between the door and wall.


    "Mame, you fatty! You scratched me and now look, you¡¯re stuck!"


    A familiar head of shiny black hair popped its way into the hallway as a hand pushed the sliding door open.


    "Micchan!"


    "Kazu!"


    Both parties locked eyes and had smiles as big and beaming as the sun.


    Before he could tease her about her new hairstyle, Mieko was tumbling into Kazuma''s arms for a hug while Mame jumped at his waist.


    "Come on, you still have the mustache? You look like a tengu!" Mieko held her face in her hands, brows furrowing as she quickly inspected Kazuma.


    Nothing''s changed.


    She breathed a sigh of relief as one of her biggest fears dissipated - Kazuma was still Kazuma, stuffy suit, tengu mustache and all.


    "Well, what about you." Kazuma chuckled, tugging at a strand of Mieko''s bob. "You look like you should be dancing on stage with all the other showgirls! When''d you cut it o-"


    "Arf, arfarfarfarf-"


    Both friends looked down at the chubby menace pawing at their feet.


    "Oh, look at you." Kazuma continued his laughter, kneeling down and hoisting the dog into his arms. "It''s no secret Micchan''s been feeding you well!"


    "Arf!"


    He felt his heart flutter and had to hold back his tears as Mame never stopped barking and whining in his arms, her black eyes just as loving and expressive as he remembered.


    "Yes, well she certainly wasn''t cheap." Mister Takahara murmured from behind with his arms crossed. "She''s double the weight before you left thanks to Mieko spoiling her."


    "Which is exactly why I asked Micchan specifically to care for her. I knew she wouldn¡¯t have Mame go hungry." Kazuma shot back, arms instinctually tightening around his fluffy pride and joy.


    "Hm." Mister Takahara brushed against the pair fussing over Mame and entered the tea room.


    "Ah-" Mieko peered up at Kazuma, both their hands still entangled in Mame''s fur. "We''ll talk later?" She asked hopefully.


    "I''ll find a way to escape, I always do." Kazuma winked playfully, handing over Mame to Mieko before making his way through the door.


    "Arfarfarf!" Mame tried wiggling her way out of Mieko''s arms as soon as she saw Kazuma heading for the other room.


    "He''ll be back soon!" Mieko cooed, silently shooing away Kazuma, his heart being torn in two at the sight.


    "Hurry up with him and come get your lady!"


    "I leave her to you!" Kazuma laughed before sliding the door behind him.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, what else is new.¡± Mieko huffed. She stared down at the whining bundle of fur wiggling in her arms, shaking her head. ¡°Men.¡±

 13: Old Habits

    "I figured you would prefer sake rather than tea." Mister Takahara slowly poured the clear liquid into two small cups.


    "You know me too well, Tatsuo." Kazuma grinned as he eyed his beverage of choice from across the table, unable to go one more minute without savoring the flavor that had been foreign to him for three years.


    Although arriving back to Japan three days prior, Kazuma patiently waited for his reunion with his boss to enjoy one of the few activities in which they found common ground.


    "Cheers." Mister Takahara mumbled as he handed Kazuma his glass.


    For Kazuma, it had certainly been worth the wait - of course, whisky and beer were able to do it for him while he was an ocean away, but nothing was comparable to clanking sake glasses with his mentor and savoring a flavor unique to home.


    "You''re right." Mister Takahara crossed his arms. "I do know you too well, so part of me is weary to ask about your report."


    "Report?" Kazuma scoffed, downing his glass in two gulps. "Come on, we don''t need to do that tonight, our associates aren''t even here to listen to all of my shameful exploits!"


    Mister Takahara remained silent, crossed arms unmoving and a sour expression still present on his face.


    "A joke, Tatsuo." The younger man explained. "Don''t tell me you lost your sense of humor!"


    "I don''t want to hear jokes, Kazuma."


    Kazuma froze as his superior drummed a hand against the table.


    "The hundreds of thousands of yen I spent to have you over there for years is worth much more than jokes."


    Kazuma quipped his mouth closed as soon as he realized Mister Takahara meant business, the personal kind. After a few passing seconds, whether it was pure organic courage or the hearty alcohol flowing through his veins, he wasn¡¯t sure, but something within Kazuma encouraged him to once again test his boss¡¯s temper. ¡°I know you were expecting a detailed report once I was to return, Tatsuo, I assure you I haven¡¯t forgotten.¡± He smiled as a thin finger traced across the rim of his glass, heartbeat calming from a sporadic jump to a hum.


    ¡°I simply was of the mindset that you would appreciate some light conversation rather than diving headfirst into the grime and corruption I was so graciously exposed to in the name of ¡®career development.¡¯¡±


    Mister Takahara lowered his head. ¡°Well well.¡± He huffed, failing to hide the smirk creeping across his cheeks while his forehead grew hot. ¡°So I take it you were under their guidance for longer than I had expected.¡±


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    Two fingers fishing in Kazuma¡¯s suit jacket eventually plopped a bundle of paper onto the table. ¡°The Martillos send their regards.¡± Kazuma laughed. ¡°Of course, my days were spent at Milton''s office, but I did learn quite a bit from your Martillo friends regarding the turbulent state of America¡¯s finances. Their own business model is far from what I would consider ¡®ethical,¡¯ but nevertheless, quite an interesting case study.¡±


    ¡°No-¡± Mister Takahara¡¯s brows twitched as his eyes fervently scanned the bundle of records. ¡°I should have known this trip was no good.¡± His hands cupped his face while confusion and regret swirled in his gut.


    ¡°¡®No good!?¡¯¡± Kazuma exclaimed, grabbing back a sheet for himself to reference. ¡°Whiskey sales going up up up by the week, rum by the day.¡± His hand slapped the paper. ¡°It was incredible to witness! If you were there for yourself you¡¯d understand better.¡±


    ¡°Mister Fosters was right, my god.¡± Mister Takahara sighed, shaking his head still cradled in his hands. ¡°How on earth did such a respectable family fall to such¡­such lows? From banking to illegal smuggling? And you were a part of it?¡±


    ¡°Oh! No no no.¡± Kazuma waved his hands in front of his face. ¡°Tatsuo, I know my limits. Observing was more than enough for me. I simply heard stories from the brother and sister¡­and occasionally witnessed some interesting exchanges.¡± Another smirk crept up Kazuma¡¯s face as he relished in his superior¡¯s muttering and headshaking. ¡°Witnessed, Tatsuo, not participated. And since when do you take advice from the walking corpse Mister Fosters?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not entertaining semantics.¡± Tatsuo spat back, one shaky hand combing through his graying hair. ¡°And Fosters for your information has done wonders with Mieko¡¯s English, much more than that red-haired woman-¡±


    ¡°Mrs. O¡¯Halloran.¡± Kazuma corrected.


    ¡°She never made a notable impression.¡± Mister Takahara whipped his head to the side, reaching for the bottle of sake while his protege leaned his body forward for answers.


    ¡°You fired her? For Fosters?¡± Kazuma exclaimed. ¡°She was perfect for Mieko, they were so alike they were practically sisters separated at birth. Now you¡¯re having the Canadian fun police tutoring your daughter in her favorite subject!?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not turning the evening into a fight about Mrs. O¡¯Kallorhass.¡±


    ¡°O¡¯Halloran.¡±


    ¡°Whatever, I fired her.¡± Tatsuo silently poured himself another glass of sake, eyes momentarily flickering up to meet Kazuma¡¯s bewildered face. ¡°Tell me about your time with the Miltons. Surely what you studied there will salvage what little remains of your professional reputation.¡±


    ¡°Ahaha-¡± Kazuma swiped the bottle from Tatsuo¡¯s hands, pouring himself another glass and swigging it down in one gulp before rising from his seat. ¡°Always the joker, Tatsuo! Please, excuse me for a moment for the washroom.¡± Grin forever plastered across the tired muscles of his face, Kazuma bowed and made a beeline for the door.


    ¡°Hmph, washroom.¡± Tatsuo noted the rectangular outline protruding from his partner¡¯s suit pocket.


    ¡°Old habits die hard, I see.¡±

 14: Threes Company

    A shaky hand clenched atop the breast pocket of Kazuma¡¯s jacket, the firm surface of the tobacco box beneath the sleek fabric never failing to provide familiar momentary comfort. He cursed to himself as his heart calmed, the time between beats growing longer the closer his steps brought him to the entrance of his old home.


    All these years, and he still fails to toss out one measly word of praise.


    The humid evening air splashed onto his sweating face as Kazuma trudged to his usual refuge between the alleyway and gate.


    Swiping one stick from the box, lighting it up and settling it between his lips, he allowed his smile to drop for the first time of the evening.


    ¡°How does Micchan do it? Poor girl.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re damn right ¡®poor girl!¡¯¡± Kazuma flinched as a pair of fists punched against his upper arm, nearly sending his cigarette flying into a bush of tulips.


    Mieko had sneaked away from her room in the hopes of catching Kazuma. ¡°What were you thinking, leaving me all alone here with-¡± Mieko groaned as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. ¡°Mister Fosters.¡±


    She stood with Mame licking at her ankles while her wrists were quickly captured in Kazuma¡¯s hands.


    ¡°Yes, yes, yes I heard all about your plight without Eliza, Micchan, but hey-¡± Kazuma stooped to meet Mame¡¯s cheery black and white face, their foreheads bopping together as he rubbed underneath her chin. ¡°Look at who I did leave you with! A minute with my sweet, adorable, beautiful Mame surely makes up for any amount of time spent with mean old Fosters, yes it does.¡±


    ¡°Easy for you to say, Mister Globe Trotter.¡± Mieko glared, fighting with herself on whether her feelings of anger were justified or if she should be holding onto Kazuma for dear life and never letting go. ¡°How long can you stay out here? I wanna hear about your time away too, it¡¯s not fair!¡±


    ¡°You read my letters, he didn¡¯t.¡± Kazuma huffed and flipped a finger towards the tea room window before rising from the ground. ¡°I¡¯m hoping for a few more minutes before he comes yelling. So, when did it happen?¡±


    ¡°When did what happen?¡± Mieko murmured between fighting off Mame at her heels and waving away the tobacco smoke flowing from her friend. ¡°I just snuck down here when I heard the door slam.¡± She giggled. ¡°Way to be subtle.¡±


    ¡°No, silly.¡± Kazuma bopped her shoulder as he snubbed the cigarette between his fingers, puffing the last bit of smoke from his nose. ¡°When did Eliza have to leave?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Mieko¡¯s voice wavered as a hand reached to tangle in her hair ¡°Well, you know Mrs. O¡¯Halloran was never Father¡¯s favorite. It was only a matter of time. About six months ago he had had enough.¡±


    ¡°Idiot.¡± Kazuma grumbled through clenched teeth. ¡°And I¡¯m certain Fosters was chomping at the bit for that pretty salary.¡±


    ¡°Oh, most definitely of course he was! He¡¯s getting even more than she was, that greedy ass.¡± Mieko exclaimed with her arms in the air. ¡°I¡¯ll bet you he was behind the whole thing, I¡¯m certain of it! He was always threatened by her and her husband, so this was the perfect time to strike her down!¡±


    Kazuma couldn¡¯t help but laugh as Mieko jumped and frantically stabbed a finger into his chest, her nose scrunched and eyes growing wider and wilder with every accusation.


    ¡°I believe you, General Micchan.¡± Kazuma winked down at her with a fist to his chest.


    ¡°It was horrible, it still is horrible.¡± Her mouth morphed into a comical frown, eyes teary as she balled her hands to her chest. ¡°If only I had a teacher who didn¡¯t make me want to jump in the koi pond, or escape for the mountains, what a wonderful world that would be.¡±


    ¡°Oh-ho, no.¡± Kazuma jutted a hand in front of Mieko¡¯s crocodile tear-stained face. ¡°Sorry Micchan, but you and I both know your dad is going to be running me ragged from morning till midnight. As much as Fosters is a pain in the behind, I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll have to bear his company with a smile for a while longer.¡±


    ¡°A while longer!? Don¡¯t comfort me with false hope!¡± Mieko whined as she stooped down to hug Mame. ¡°Well fine, if you¡¯re so busy I¡¯ll just forget about asking you for any more help.¡±


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    She continued to mumble to the black and white fluffball beside her. ¡°Can you believe your dad, Mame? Didn¡¯t even give me a chance to talk about the Hamptons, now how can I help her?¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡± Kazuma¡¯s slumped shoulders raised to attention. ¡°Who are the Hamptons?¡±


    Mieko grinned behind her hand as the wheels began to turn in her head.


    Got him.


    ¡°Well, if you insist, I met this American girl near Tennoji, and I¡¯ll spare you the details but she dirtied my kimono.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Kazuma¡¯s eyes glazed over in suspicion at Mieko¡¯s chipper tone, waiting for the inevitable catch.


    ¡°And then, she was nice enough to invite me and Takako over to clean it without Father knowing! She truly was an angel.¡± Mieko sighed as her arms wrapped around Mame¡¯s torso. ¡°And she looked like one too.¡± Her eyes traveled up to meet Kazuma¡¯s face, still unmoving and feigning boredom.


    Damn it, come on!


    ¡°It¡¯s such a shame.¡± She carried on. ¡°Such a nice young girl like that having no one to rely on, no one to take care of her.¡±


    ¡°What of her husband?¡± Kazuma finally chimed in as Mieko¡¯s hopes soared.


    ¡°She¡¯s single! She has nobody!¡± She nearly stepped on Mame¡¯s tail while she jumped up and flung her arms at Kazuma¡¯s chest.


    Isn¡¯t that great!? Mieko wanted to blurt out in support of her plan, but Kazuma¡¯s suspicions seemed to still be brewing beneath his slowly peaking interest.


    ¡°Uh- I mean, she moved here with her uncle and his Japanese fiance, but they have nothing, no jobs.¡± She crossed her arms as she pondered what to say next.


    That was all there was to it, really.


    Her brows furrowed as she pumped more ideas through her head. Surely he hadn¡¯t changed that much during their time apart?


    ¡°It was so sad Kazuma, I can only imagine the worries going through her mind, being in a foreign land with no money, no husband and not to mention all of the-¡±


    She paused as Mame whined, hands shooting up to cover her face. ¡°-unsavory scoundrels she could wind up entangled with, and no man to protect her-¡±


    A smirk creeped up Mieko¡¯s cheeks when a nostalgic sound boomed from the ground below - the tapping of Kazuma¡¯s shoe was all she needed to hear to know she had won him over.


    ¡°What, so her uncle has no means to provide for his family?¡± He scoffed, kicking a rock into the nearby pond.


    ¡°It would seem so.¡± Mieko sighed, hands now folded in front of her chest. ¡°Just an idea but maybe¡­maybe you could help? Invest or advise or something?¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Kazuma chuckled as he shook his head, ¡°I knew this was some part of one of your schemes. I¡¯m proud of you for your prowess, I¡¯ll give you that!¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on Kazuma, please?¡± Mieko tugged at his sleeve, bottom lip quivering in feigned disappointment. ¡°I know you¡¯re busy, but I really liked her and her family and I think you would too!¡±


    ¡°Well I really like having workweeks that are 50 hours or less!¡± Kazuma tried to reason with her, knowing that ultimately after a few more pouts and whines he would eventually give in.


    ¡°Yeah, and then what? All those other hours you¡¯re just going to be with her anyway.¡± Mieko scrunched her nose in disgust as she rolled her eyes. ¡°Anyone is better than Lady Sanae.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Kazuma¡¯s eyes blew wide. ¡°I have no plans of the sort, Mieko.¡±


    ¡°Great, then surely your schedule can accommodate me and my new friends.¡± Mieko stabbed a finger towards her chest before resting her hands on her hips. ¡°Or are you so much without a conscience that the thought of a sweet girl withering away in poverty fails to move you at all?¡±


    ¡°You refuse to give me any leeway, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Seeing them once is the least you can do for me after you left me with-¡± Mieko shot her arms and hands up towards the tearoom window. ¡°Him. For three years.¡±


    ¡°Mieko-¡± Kazuma sighed in defeat, a hand trailing its way from his nose to his temple.


    ¡°Threeeee years!¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes I am now fully aware of your despair.¡± Kazuma refused to look down at those watery brown eyes and rosy cheeks, for fear that another glance would be an invitation to string him along in even more of her flighty schemes. ¡°Alright Micchan, I guess I have no choice but to swoop in and pick up the pieces of this little charity project, in secret from your dad, of course.¡± He huffed once more as he ruffled the top of her head. With a quick check of his watch and a ¡®tsk,¡¯ Kazuma led the two of them with Mame at their heels back into the house. ¡°Hopefully I can pick up your little friend in the process.¡± He nudged Mieko¡¯s shoulder, his booming laughter drowning out the chides and scolds of the ambitious young heiress beside him.


    Staring back into the dim foyer, the grip on his watch tightened as he felt her eyes on him, brimming with expectation and hope.


    Hope that he prayed wouldn¡¯t fall to disappointment.

 15: Plotting

    The tiny pricks scattered across Lucy¡¯s fingers burned as she struggled to thread her sewing needle, trying her best to keep up with Yuko while the older woman somehow managed to master the impossible craft seemingly overnight.


    ¡°This is ridiculous, can¡¯t we just rip off the other sleeve instead?¡± Lucy muttered just loud enough for Yuko to hear.


    No matter how hard her strained gaze maintained focus, the cursed string went every which way but through the eye of the needle, and Lucy had half a mind to throw the entire monstrosity of a shirt in the trash and the needle on a chair for her uncle to sit on.


    ¡°I told you.¡± Yuko murmured as she gracefully weaved in and out of her own holey blouse. ¡°If you would simply allow yourself the time to thread it like I showed you before-¡±


    Lucy grunted, swiping away the beads of sweat sticking her fringe to her damp forehead. ¡°Okay, your way of threading takes way too much time, it¡¯s much faster to just jam it through!¡±


    ¡°Is it?¡± Yuko raised a brow at Lucy¡¯s prickly red fingers.


    Lucy was gripping the needle with still no string running through its eye after 10 straight minutes of groans and expletives pouring from the poor girl¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Lucy rolled her head backwards, plopping the miserable needle and sleeve in Yuko¡¯s lap as an offering. ¡°You win, show me how to-¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡± Both women gasped and dropped their work as Alfred¡¯s sudden cursing trailed from the kitchen into the living room.


    ¡°What! What the hell is it!?¡± Lucy yelped, her and Yuko now tripping over the other¡¯s feet while running through the hallway to the kitchen entrance.


    ¡°Ah!¡± Yuko didn¡¯t know what surprised her more: the family of little brown mice that had just made an escape in between her feet or her fianc¨¦ frantically charging towards her with a stick and an open sack.


    ¡°Little shits were eating our carrots! Why the hell didn¡¯t you hide them somewhere?¡± Alfred pushed by Lucy, shooting her a glare as he chased the tiny mother and her babies down the hall and towards the entryway.


    ¡°They were by the kitchen sink, I was going to wash them after fixing your screwed up shirt!¡± Lucy threw a fist in the air as she yelled, fantasizing that it was pummeling into her idiotic excuse for an uncle instead of colliding with the wall beside her.


    ¡°Al, stop complaining and just get them out!¡± Yuko shouted from atop a stool in the kitchen, adrenaline simmering through her body as she shook.


    We cannot have those things in here when-


    ¡°AGH-¡±


    ¡°Well, hello Mieko! Takako, good to see you!¡±


    Amidst the ruckus, two feminine shrieks sounded from the front door, an almost comical contrast to Alfred¡¯s sudden jovial greeting.


    ¡°This can¡¯t be happening.¡± With two fingers cradling the bridge of her nose, Yuko struggled to find the will to carry on with today¡¯s plans.


    How on earth was she going to slap on her hostess face and explain away three mice running out of their home?


    What the hell, they¡¯re one hour early! The nerve of that woman.


    Lugging her body from her stool sanctuary, Yuko¡¯s disdain for Takako and the dread of the oncoming afternoon boiled beneath her skin.


    As Lucy and Mieko¡¯s fondness for each other grew during the passing weeks, Yuko found herself entertaining Takako and Mieko on two different occasions under the guise of ¡°an English club¡± - a lie supposedly carefully curated by Takako herself, one with a set of rules which she made certain the Hamptons abided by for the sake of Mieko¡¯s reputation.


    ¡°Mieko really enjoys her time with Lucy.¡± Yuko recalled Takako¡¯s chipper voice and forced smile from their second meeting. The bile in Yuko¡¯s throat rose bit by bit at every condescending nod thrown her way across the living room table. ¡°It would be appreciated if they could continue to see each other but just¡­not where we live.¡±


    A sharp pain shot through her mouth as Yuko felt her teeth grinding away in frustration. To her dismay, the same insufferable voice from her memory rang out in strained laughter from the front door.


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s rats? Oh my, haha¡­¡±


    ¡°Hello Mister Alfred!¡±


    ¡°Call me Al, Mieko! And don¡¯t worry ladies, we got all of ¡®em out, I think she just had twins!¡±


    Taking hold of Lucy¡¯s still-clenched fist, Yuko dragged both of them down the hall to the literal three-ring circus beginning an hour early.


    ¡°Oh my god.¡± Lucy groaned under her breath, biting her tongue for the sake of Yuko¡¯s dwindling reserves of hospitality.


    ¡°Say your prayers now.¡± Yuko mumbled.


    ¡°Miss Takako, Micchan! I¡¯m so sorry, Alfred left the back door open while we were tidying the kitchen.¡± Yuko laughed while shoving Alfred behind her and Lucy, greeting Takako with a curt nod before beaming down at Mieko. ¡°Oh, Micchan you always look so cute!¡± Fruitlessly attempting to make light of the disaster from moments prior, Yuko bowed and gestured for the two women to come in. ¡°Blue really suits you.¡±


    Before Mieko could thank Yuko and comment on her own beautiful patterned skirt, Takako cut in as she cautiously entered the house.


    ¡°Yes, well, we make an effort to maintain a presentable appearance in the face of our hosts.¡± She made a concerted effort to have her inspection of the floors and walls noticed by Yuko, who, with Lucy steaming beside her, held back the waking urge to throw the unwelcome guest out on the street.


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    ¡°Ah.¡± Yuko laughed as the group entered the sitting room. ¡°One can only make so much of an effort in a proper appearance when all of their concentration is devoted to proper manners.¡±


    Takako was silent as she took a seat, quaking lips refusing to falter into a frown at the sudden slight.


    ¡°Well I think you look great!¡± Plopping down next to Lucy, Mieko innocently piped in. ¡°Lucy¡¯s hair looks really nice pulled back, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Mmmm.¡±


    ¡°Actually.¡± Yuko forced herself to interject. ¡°Why don¡¯t you and Lucy go upstairs and start? I heard talk that it¡¯s going to rain later today, and I would hate for you two to get caught in the middle of it.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah that¡¯s right! Okay!¡± Completely unaware of the stoney demeanor simmering between the two older women, Mieko sprung up to follow Lucy out of the room towards the stairs, one of them eager to learn and the other simply thankful for a moment¡¯s rest from the eruption brewing under a guise of lighthearted chatter.


    ¡°Finally, thank god, I couldn¡¯t last one more minute of that.¡± Lucy sighed as she slid the door closed to their makeshift study room.


    ¡°What?¡± Mieko questioned, settling down next to a pile of paper and her bundle of books she brought from home.


    ¡°Surely you noticed the cross-fire we just avoided.¡± Gathering her skirt around her knees, Lucy settled herself next to the small table cluttered with pencils, more paper, and a handful of rice crackers.


    ¡°No¡­¡± Mieko scrunched her nose as she tried to make sense of Lucy¡¯s sentence. ¡®Cross-fire?¡¯ Her newfound friend always spoke in riddles, and it frustrated Mieko to no end! ¡°Well, anyway, we¡¯re really thankful that you allowed us into your home again. And for being so nice to teach me!¡±


    Lucy held back a chuckle as she waved away Mieko¡¯s compliments. ¡°It¡¯s nothing, but I wouldn¡¯t call it ¡®teaching¡¯ when it¡¯s with a girl who never went to secondary school.¡±


    Before Mieko could inquire what a ¡°secondary¡± school was, Lucy fussed with her hair and started to babble. ¡°And sorry about the crackers, I know they¡¯re not good, but it¡¯s better than nothing I guess? That¡¯s what Yuko said. You don¡¯t have to eat them if you don¡¯t want them-¡±


    And with that, as a wave of duty splashed over her, Mieko found her hands grabbing for not one nor two, but for three of the thin crackers as her friend showed no signs of starting their lesson anytime soon.


    ¡°Lu-chan, I will eat these crackers! No matter how plain and drying they are!¡± With her mouth open wide and dropping crumbs on the floor, Mieko muffled her approval as she munched.


    ¡°I said you don¡¯t have to! Wait, ¡®Lu-chan¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Your nickname. Yuko says it all the time, right?¡± Mieko continued to drop crumbs on her kimono and the floor. ¡°And even if they don¡¯t taste good, it¡¯s what friends do! I can eat these crackers if you help me study. It¡¯s 50/50!¡±


    ¡°Gee, thanks¡­¡± Lucy allowed herself another giggle, taking the grammar book from the floor and opening up to where she had slid the bookmark in after last week¡¯s session.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Mieko bonked her head with a pencil, running her rehearsed lines through her head one last time. ¡°Speaking of 50/50, do you remember last week, I talked about my friend Kazu who is coming home from New York?¡± Her legs tensed as Lucy furrowed her brows.


    ¡°Um, yeah, the guy who works with your dad?¡± Lucy asked as her brain jumped between English and Japanese. Mieko¡¯s language was constantly shifting between the two and while it was endearing (and something Lucy herself was guilty of doing from time to time), it was exhausting all the same.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Mieko nodded. ¡°I told him about you and Yuko and Al, and he wants to visit!¡±


    ¡°Visit?¡± Lucy¡¯s voice lowered, eyes squinting and a line forming on her forehead as she forced herself to press further. ¡°Why?¡±


    -would a rich yuppy want anything to do with our mess, let alone visit?


    Is what Lucy had truly wanted to ask, but she restrained herself.


    She stared across the table and reminded herself, however, that the Takahara heiress herself willingly visited weekly, sat in this stuffy room, and even called Lucy a friend, so perhaps the notion wasn¡¯t that far-fetched.


    Fiddling with her fingers as a blush spread across her nose, Mieko chose her words carefully. ¡°I¡¯m very thankful that you let me visit, and you help me study.¡± Taking a breath, she continued. ¡°And¡­I don¡¯t have many friends, so coming here and seeing you and your family is the best thing that¡¯s happened to me in a long time. Sometimes I feel like I might be taking up a lot of your time, barging in every week, but¡­¡±


    Lucy shook her head, just about to assure Mieko that she was welcome at any time, but then Mieko slammed her fist on the table.


    ¡°But I still want to!¡±


    ¡°Hah!¡± Lucy covered her mouth with a hand, taken aback and holding in the sudden wave of tears and laughter.


    ¡°Why are you laughing!¡± Mieko burst out again as soon as Lucy¡¯s laughter could no longer be contained. ¡°Listen, I want to thank you for all of your help, so my friend wants to come and talk to Al and Yuko about work!¡±


    Lucy¡¯s quivering shoulders froze and laughter ceased, her hand once resting over her mouth now nervously fidgeting with the pages from the grammar book. ¡°O-oh¡­uh¡­that¡¯s¡­a lot, Mieko.¡±


    ¡°I know, it¡¯s sudden for me to say, but I want to help like you¡¯re helping me!¡± Reaching for Lucy¡¯s hand, Mieko tried to explain further. ¡°Al always goes on about how no one wants to hire him because he can¡¯t speak Japanese. My friend speaks English, and he¡¯s worked with Americans! It¡¯s the perfect fit!¡±


    ¡°Mieko.¡± Lucy let out another chuckle as she closed her eyes. ¡°Me helping you with some English homework doesn¡¯t merit you and your friend putting your lives on the line.¡±


    Lucy recalled the multiple stories Mieko had told her of her father, Mister Takahara, and his tight grip around her and his workers. It was already thin ice having Mieko visit this ragtag ¡°English Club¡± without her father growing suspicious. Who¡¯s to say how long his ignorance would last if they added one more scheme and one more person to the secret?


    ¡°Nonsense.¡± Mieko rolled her eyes as she snorted. ¡°You teach me much more than my actual teacher. And as long as I''m with Kazu, my father won''t get suspicious. Plus, now while Yuko and Takako are talking we can tell Al!¡±


    ¡°But tell him what exactly?¡±


    ¡°Easy, that my friend will help him make money! Can we just ask him at least?¡± Mieko pleaded. ¡°My friend already said he¡¯d come and discuss possibilities!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, you already asked, didn¡¯t you?¡± Lucy sighed, knowing well by now that once Mieko had a resolve to accomplish her goal, getting in her way was as good as jumping in front of a train. ¡°...Just don¡¯t bring Takako again, for Yuko¡¯s sake.¡±


    ¡°Deal! Before we go down to Al-¡± Mieko was beaming as she freed Lucy¡¯s hand, eyes zeroing back in on her beloved textbook. ¡°I just have to know, what¡¯s the ¡®subjunctive present¡¯?¡±


    ¡°The what-ive what now?¡±

 16: Death Wish

    Kazuma concluded he must have had a death wish. Perhaps he had come down with a late onset of hay fever this summer and it somehow had gone past his sinus and into his brain. He had rehearsed at least twenty times that morning before heading out exactly what to say to Mieko¡¯s father in case he crossed his path and how to ¡°make his delivery convincing¡± as she had called it.


    ¡°We¡¯re just going to a cafe to review her English notes, sir.¡±


    Had she said a cafe? Maybe it was actually for some sort of test?


    God, her schemes became more outlandish and convoluted with each passing year, and on top of it all he had missed three of them. Sometimes the girl¡¯s chattering flew over him like a buzzing fly, persistent but often disregarded.


    Oh, how he longed for the days when the worst she concocted were fibs about finishing her homework on time or if she ate her tofu instead of throwing it to the housecat under the table.


    Bringing his index finger and thumb up to rub at his temple, he momentarily questioned whether or not this charade had been a lapse in judgment on his part.  Should her father ever find out about this little escapade, it¡¯d be his neck and then some at the expense of some Americans he didn¡¯t even know.


    His breath hitched at the thought.


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    I¡¯m getting too old for this.


    He really wasn¡¯t, though. Thirty-two was hardly an old curmudgeon, but whenever the plans involved Mieko he sure as hell felt like one.


    He sighed to himself as he fiddled with his tie and threw on his suit jacket. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror, he headed towards the front room and reached for his hat on the wooden coat rack near the door.


    Maybe this was all a prank Mieko orchestrated to cure her own boredom?


    He wouldn¡¯t put it past her, what with the smothering she endured at home.


    ¡°Not wise to put me at the center of it.¡± He mumbled to himself as he propped the black felt hat atop his slicked hair.


    The last thing he wanted was to be at the center of Mieko¡¯s schemes and put even more strain than there already was on her family, but she knew his weaknesses and vices as if she were the devil himself. He laughed as he reached down to put on his newly polished shoes. A sense of pride rushed to his chest knowing it was because of his coaching that she was able to hone her skills in the art of persuasion.


    Hell, she was so good at it she managed to take down her own teacher.


    One mention of a nice-looking girl in need of his assistance and he was hooked.


    Tapping his feet on the stone floor, he sighed and leaned on the wall behind him, careful not to put any wrinkles in his clothes.


    This girl had better be worth the trouble.


    He swooped his head towards the door. ¡°Off to work, I suppose.¡± He sang to himself as he slid it open.


    Even if it turned out to be a failure, he was certain this would be one for the books.

 17: To the Action

    She was a nervous wreck the moment her eyes flipped open. Mieko was excited, ecstatic, but on the other hand she also somewhat wished for a few extra hours to lie in bed and mentally prepare herself for the day that was to unfold.


    She turned her small frame to prop her weight on her right shoulder, peeking up from under her light blue sheets over towards the cedar nightstand beside her bed.


    9:00.


    She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Perhaps her vision was foggy from sleep? Yeah, that was it-


    9:00.


    ¡¸Noooooooo¡­..¡¹ She moaned as she thrashed about under her covers.


    They were supposed to meet out front in thirty minutes. Hell, knowing him he would probably show up fifteen minutes early like always, make a show of nonchalantly leaning against their gate as she came out, and wrap it all up with an irritatingly smug grin and a ¡¸gooood morning!¡¹


    He was truly infuriating.


    She covered her face in her hands.


    She was not ready for this. Well, the first part of their plan, to be more specific¡ªgetting past her father¡¯s questioning as unscathed as possible. With Takako, it had been a breeze, but with Kazuma, after three years she could only wonder. She reached over and gripped a pillow that had been kicked across the bed while she was sleeping.


    She chewed on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to calm her nerves.


    Kazuma was confident enough, so why was she so worried all of a sudden? Maybe her father had some sort of ¡°engagement¡± this morning that he didn''t tell her about last night at supper.


    ¡¸Oh God, please¡­¡¹ She felt sorry for praying that his company be forced onto someone else besides her and Kazuma, but dang it she needed one day, just one full day of smooth sailing and then she would be content with every bump and paternal obstacle thrown her way henceforward.


    With another grunt, she heaved herself from the sheets and forced her body upright. Tingles shot up her back as she hoisted her legs down onto the European style carpet beneath the bed. Goodness, she must have really tied herself into a sailor¡¯s knot while she was unconscious, all thanks to these damn nerves.


    Reaching her arms up above her head to relieve the pressure, she sighed to herself. Her eyes shifted over to the window adjacent to her dressing table.


    Was that open all night? Or had the maid come in while she was sleeping? Did the maid wake her up and had she fallen right back to sleep afterwards?


    She shook her head and stumbled out of bed, licking her fingers and running them through her hair as a makeshift comb.


    Teetering over to an ornate wardrobe nestled in the corner of her room, she shifted out of her night clothes and then tugged at its door.


    Her nimble fingers filed through the endless horde of kimono until they settled on the simplest one she owned¡ªand her favorite. It was the same salvaged blue kimono she had worn when she first met Lucy, and although it had no complex pattern on the fabric, the white obi she paired it with provided just the right amount of ¡°pizzazz¡± as Alfred had called it.


    What a fun word that was. When she first saw the r¨­maji for it she had wondered why there were two z¡¯s lined up next to each other twice, and in one word. Wouldn¡¯t one be enough for both times the pronunciation came up? According to Lucy it was ¡°just because¡± with no true reason behind it at all.


    She pondered the conundrum yet again as she enveloped her shoulders in the fabric, jutting her arms into the garment¡¯s wide sleeves.


    Words in Japanese almost always had some kind of meaning behind their kanji or pronunciation, but English? English was off-the-wall, random, nonsensical fun and she loved it.


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    She fastened the white obi around her waist.


    Giving herself a brief check in the mirror next to her wardrobe, she looked over towards the clock once more.


    9:07.


    Maybe I¡¯ll beat him to the punch this time.


    Just as she was about to race towards the bathroom to wrap up her morning routine, she was halted in her tracks by the creak of a doorknob followed by heavy footsteps.


    She rolled her eyes but tried her best to smack on a somewhat convincing smile.


    She turned towards her father and was met with sharp black eyes that seemed to be constantly on the prowl for any wrongdoing done by his daughter.


    ¡°Good morning, dad.¡±


    ¡¸I see no reason to address me in English when your teacher is not present.¡¹


    Her shoulders tensed and she suddenly found the floor to be quite interesting. She scolded herself silently. Why the heck did English come so easy to her at the worst possible times?


    ¡¸I¡¯ve told you before that I don¡¯t particularly mind you missing breakfast, but if you decide to take such liberties I would appreciate prior notice.¡¹


    Mieko could feel the hair on her neck stand up as her father¡¯s voice grated her nerves.


    ¡¸Not that I see a respectable reason as to why you chose to miss it, still being in your bedroom with your hair a mess.¡¹


    ¡¸I wasn¡¯t expecting you-¡¹


    ¡¸I wasn''t aware that I had restricted access in my own home.¡¹


    Mister Takahara prided himself on his family. He had worked hard to cultivate the perfect image of a modern young lady, his daughter.


    His daughter had everything¡ªa top of the line education, taught in both Japanese and English no less, wonderful selections of clothing for any occasion you could imagine, a beautiful home¡ªyet here she was, wallowing about in her room well past seven, questioning him why he came in to check up on her.


    ¡¸Perhaps this is due to somebody¡¯s influence?¡¹ He was afraid her behavior would turn for the worse after Kazuma returned home. Kazuma had always been the catalyst for Mieko¡¯s unruliness ever since they were children.


    She managed to maintain her feigned smile, her nerves causing the edges of her mouth to waver momentarily.


    ¡¸Kazuma? No, no! Actually, I forgot to mention to you-¡¹ she paused as her father raised a brow at her brazen honesty.


    ¡¸Forgot to mention to me?¡¹


    She took in a shaky breath and fiddled with her index fingers.


    ¡¸Kazuma actually told me that he had time this morning to look over my most recent essay about¡­¡¹ Good heavens, why did she add an ¡°about¡±!? She tried to gulp down the butterflies bubbling up in her throat.


    ¡¸About the...Yayoi period.¡¹ She grimaced to herself. Mister Fosters was what most would call a history buff, so Mieko hoped that this fib was somewhat believable. Even for him, however, this was one hell of a stretch.


    ¡¸Mister Fosters has you writing...about the Yayoi period.¡¹


    She nodded.


    ¡¸Really.¡¹


    ¡¸Yes.¡¹


    ¡¸If I were him I¡¯d have you write about the Meiji Restoration, something recent and relevant.¡¹ He grumbled to himself, looked his daughter up and down, and turned on his heel towards the door.


    ¡¸Very well, there¡¯s no helping it now. Be sure to make yourself presentable. Brush your hair, wash your face.¡¹


    He reached for the door knob. ¡¸And remember, you¡¯re going with him to perfect your English. I don¡¯t want you picking up any of his other habits.¡¹


    Before Mieko could ask what ¡°other habits¡± she could possibly be exposed to at an English study session, he was gone, off to do whatever it was that had taken up his morning.


    ¡¸It would be nice if he could say good morning to me for once¡­and stop treating me like some five year old.¡¹ She stared blankly at the door for a couple of seconds before shaking her father out of her head.


    Already accepting defeat in her quest to make it outside before Kazuma, she lugged herself into the bathroom across the hall and finished her routine before dashing down the stairs and out the front door. She gulped in the fresh morning air and finally felt a moment of peace in her chaotic morning. Until-


    ¡¸Well, it took ya long enough!¡¹ Mieko nearly jumped out of her skin as Kazuma called out, his sleek figure leaning next to the door frame. ¡¸And here I thought I¡¯d have to go in there and drag you out of bed! Even worse, talk to your dad! Ha!¡¹


    Just as she predicted, here he was casually splayed across the side of their home like he owned the place.


    At least he dresses the part, she thought to herself as her eyes scanned over his getup. She was a bit surprised to see that he was dressed even more formal than was usual for him, substituting his usual black overcoat for a fancy inverness cape instead.


    ¡¸How early were you this time, two hours?¡¹ She rolled her eyes, a lopsided smile creeping up her cheeks. ¡¸And is a cape really necessary? It¡¯s summer. And we¡¯re going to meet my friends, not the Emperor.¡¹ She stuck her tongue out as she pulled at the hem of his outerwear.


    Ever since she was a child she could remember him always being the number one connoisseur in dramatics, that much was certain.


    ¡¸Nonsense, Micchan!¡¹ Kazuma chastised as he wagged his finger high in the air. ¡¸Although I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll accept my offer, it¡¯s only proper etiquette to put your best foot forward in these situations! Now!¡¹ He grabbed her shoulder and thrusted them out onto the street.


    ¡¸Take me to the action.¡¹

 18: Charity (with Illustration)

    ¡¸So, Micchan.¡¹ Kazuma flippantly regarded the petite girl prancing down the bustling street next to him. Truly, how she managed to keep such an upbeat gait in those wooden shoes was a mystery he¡¯d never unravel. ¡¸Tell me again how you met this swarm?¡¹ He smirked as Mieko flashed him a vexed frown, comical in appearance on her soft features.


    ¡¸They¡¯re all very respectable, for your information! They¡¯re not bugs¡­¡¹ She huffed and lowered her brows.


    ¡¸I met Al¡¯s niece first, she bumped into me near Tenn¨­ji Zoo, and I already told you about the whole kimono debacle. She was mortified.¡¹ She giggled at the memory. Kazuma drummed his fingers against his suit jacket.


    ¡¸And you said I¡¯d get on well with this niece of his, how promising¡­¡¹ He trailed off, tipping his hat as he ruffled her hair. ¡¸I should be thanking you, dear!¡¹


    Rolling her eyes, Mieko tisked and bopped her head away from his teasing. ¡¸Well what I said was that you¡¯d get along well with all of them, but of course your mind is racing towards only one thing as usual.¡¹ She murmured the last bit in exasperation.


    Mieko loved Kazuma, he was her protector, her confidant for the past eleven years, but along with that rapport came a constant nagging worry about his whereabouts and his...activities. She watched with joy and pride as he climbed his way up the ranks in the business world, but with every new success and achievement came throngs of women aching to weasel their way into his life.


    He wasn¡¯t stupid, he knew what most of them were after. Whether it be his looks or his success, most of the time both, the fact of the matter was that Kazuma was already in his thirties and still unmarried. He was more than open to having girlfriends, he¡¯d simply indulge in physical intimacies and send them on their way with no thoughts of marriage taking up space in his head. Cruel, some would call him, but both parties received at least half of what they were chasing after instead of nothing at all.


    He had told Mieko about four years ago before he left for the States that he never planned on getting married.


    Call her fickle, but she still wanted what she thought would be the best for him¡ªa happy life with a nice lady who loved him, loved him for the right reasons.


    ¡¸I¡¯m sure this little friend of yours will be delighted to have a local be her guide for a day or two...¡¹ He smiled down at her, already getting ahead of himself.


    ¡¸Well if this goes through, you¡¯ll be seeing each other much more often than that, so don¡¯t make an ass out of yourself.¡¹ She warned. ¡¸Probably more often than me even...stupid father, stupid calligraphy lessons, stupid Mister Fosters¡­¡¹ Kazuma chuckled as he noticed her steps becoming louder as frustration overtook her.


    ¡¸Why, Micchan, how hurtful of you to assume that I¡¯d be nothing less than a gentleman!¡¹


    ¡¸I said don¡¯t be an ass, I never said you wouldn¡¯t be a gentleman.¡¹ She elbowed him in the side. ¡¸You can be both, you know.¡¹


    ¡¸Speaking of that combination, after I left the other night, how was your father?¡¹ He casually inquired, aloof gaze scanning across the many shopkeepers and merchants selling wares alongside them.


    If Kazuma had said that to anyone else, he¡¯d probably have gotten socked in the face and a kick in the groin, but Mieko rolled her eyes as if the exchange was a daily occurrence.


    ¡¸You know how he gets when you don¡¯t keep in touch with him, and you haven¡¯t bothered to stop by save for the first time when you got back and twice last week.¡¹


    ¡¸Well what am I supposed to do, just drop in unannounced? If he really wanted to see me before yesterday, he¡¯d have sent for me earlier. And last week was a joke, a meaningless meeting about my report presentation.¡¹ He disregarded her pointed statement with a wave of his hand. ¡¸The man sends me overseas for three years with barely any contact and then breaks a sweat here if I don¡¯t come to his home every day, it¡¯s asinine.¡¹ He furrowed his brows.


    Mieko couldn¡¯t help but feel a twinge of resentment at Kazuma¡¯s complaining. He was always moaning and groaning about how her father was on his case, but at least he cared! Her father valued what Kazuma had to say, respected his wishes and permitted him to live a life more or less free from his judgemental ogling, save for the occasional visits. That was more than Mieko could ever hope to achieve, and she was his own flesh and blood. At this point, she was genuinely fearful that she¡¯d eventually become a shut in, forced into a life of calligraphy and reading obtuse poetry while the world outside roared on without her.


    She lowered her eyes and focused her attention to the ground before her instead of Kazuma. He really didn¡¯t know how good he had it sometimes.


    ¡¸Easy for you to say, at least he actually cares about how you¡¯re feeling. My father actually respects you.¡¹ She felt as though she were stabbed with a knife as Kazuma¡¯s boisterous laughter silenced her inner moping.


    ¡¸Hah! Dear, your father would wipe his shoe with me if he had the chance, that¡¯s not exactly what I¡¯d call respect.¡¹ His grin strained as he managed to conceal the chill that coursed through his bones.


    Mieko kicked a stone on the ground in front of them, cheeks puffing out to contain her laughter. ¡¸Why you should be flattered, Kazu, I¡¯d bet he even has specific preferences for that. You could consider it an honor, no?¡¹


    She yelled out, puffing out her chest and placing her hands on her hips. Her eyes creased in the corners from laughing as Kazuma attempted to shush her up, dreading that one of his associates were to be nearby and hear such an embarrassing exchange between the two of them.


    Watchful eyes and eager ears waiting for any news about the Takahara family, good or bad, could be found everywhere in the city.


    In reality, it was Kazuma¡¯s own reputation he was afraid of damaging, but he would never admit it, even to Mieko. Her father had enough money to where reputation didn¡¯t even matter, but Kazuma? He was getting there.


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    ¡¸Oh Kazu, no need to be scared of public opinion, I¡¯m sure your lady friends won¡¯t think any less of you for being afraid of a sour old man!¡¹ She pursed her lips together, appreciating the verbal freedoms modern day chivalry afforded her. Had they not been in public she¡¯d never have gotten away with a saucy comment like that.


    ¡¸And anyway!¡¹ She spun around, stumbling yet again on a rock and grabbing Kazuma¡¯s sleeve to steady herself. ¡¸Woah¡ªanyway...we¡¯re here! I told you it¡¯s not that far from my house!¡¹


    Kazuma bit his tongue as he surveyed the outside of the slightly dilapidated building Mieko was eagerly pointing towards. ¡¸And you said there are three people living here? The man along with his fiance and his niece, correct?¡¹


    ¡¸Well I¡¯m not exactly sure if Al and Yuko are married yet.¡¹


    He merely hummed in response. Like a shark stalking its prey he circled towards the door, his eyes jumping to and from the worn building and the others nearby. This one certainly had a significant amount of wear and tear on the outside, but he could understand how it would be rather charming to the average onlooker. In a...pitying sense.


    He could back out now, apologize to Mieko and have them turn back and high tail it home to wrap up some reports on his actually successful ventures, and for a split second he considered the notion as he turned his head back towards the younger girl behind him.


    God damn her expectant smile. It got him every blasted time.


    With a strained grin of his own he raised his wrist as he turned to Mieko for permission to knock. ¡¸Shall we?¡¹


    ¡¸No no, let me!¡¹ Mieko skeetered up towards the worn wooden door that she had knocked on so many times before.


    She rapped three times before they heard the soft patter of a woman¡¯s heeled shoes. Mieko¡¯s face lit up as she and Kazuma were greeted by Yuko.


    ¡¸Ah! Mieko, we¡¯re so glad you¡¯re here!¡¹ She flashed a charming smile while leaning her weight against the door.


    Mieko had always admired Yuko¡¯s effortless ability to style herself¨Clike today, her sleek, modish bob shined in the sunlight all while her modest dress draped over her dainty frame exquisitely. Her lips were painted with a dark red lipstick that Mieko could only dream of pulling off.


    Someday.


    ¡¸No problem at all!¡¹ She bowed her head slightly before bobbing up again. ¡¸Thank you for having us! This is Kazuma, by the way, he¡¯s very interested in hearing about Al¡¯s ideas.¡¹ She motioned towards Kazuma.


    ¡¸Kamoi Kazuma. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, I hope we can work together soon.¡¹ He smiled before bowing in time with Yuko. ¡°I believe Mieko has already told you, but I was actually in the United States myself for a stretch.¡±


    Yuko¡¯s eyes lit up as she cocked her head. ¡°Oh, yes she has! Well, ¡®a pleasure to meet you!¡¯¡± She laughed and motioned for them to follow her inside. ¡°I¡¯m sure Alfred will be delighted to hear all about your experiences! Al!¡±


    ¡°Just a minute!¡± a man¡¯s voice rang out from the living area.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t clean that up yet!?¡± a squeaky, feminine voice followed.


    ¡°Calm down, it¡¯s Mieko not the emperor!¡±


    ¡¸Hmmm?¡¹ Mieko smirked as she looked up at Kazuma, who merely chuckled knowingly, shaking his head.


    Before he could respond, Kazuma noticed Yuko¡¯s cheery demeanor gradually dimming towards something resembling exhaustion as she removed her heels.


    Yuko looked at both of them apologetically as they took off their shoes, shoulders slumping forward in defeat.


    ¡¸They¡¯re...usually like this when they¡¯re in the same room. Ever since Chicago.¡¹


    ¡°Only because she¡¯s such a stinker all the time! I swear, it¡¯s like her father¡¯s DNA completely skipped town when she was in the oven¡ªoh.¡±


    A tall man with slicked-back blonde hair popped his head out into the hallway. Wireframe eyeglasses askew on his long nose, his blue green eyes lit up behind his thick lenses.


    ¡°Hiya, Mieko! Great to see you, we¡¯ve missed you these past few days!¡±


    Before Kazuma could comprehend the situation, a whoosh of air passed him as Mieko ran up into the man¡¯s open arms.


    Thank whatever god out there that her father didn¡¯t know about any of this.


    ¡°Hi, Al! I missed you all so much! Oh¡ª!¡± Jumping back from his embrace just as quickly as she jumped in, she hastily walked back towards Kazuma, arm motioning up and down towards him. ¡°This is Kazuma. He¡¯s very happy to be here!¡±


    Well that was certainly debatable.


    Summoning as convincing a smile as he could manage, Kazuma simply nodded in Alfred''s direction.


    ¡°Well, it''s way too cramped to do introductions in here! Yuko, let''s go into the other room, yeah?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course.¡±


    After addressing the booming man across the hall, Yuko gestured for Kazuma to step from the entryway to give her his coat.


    While Mieko was seemingly distracted by some outlandish tale Alfred was regaling her with a few feet away, she took the time to give Kazuma her thanks.


    ¡¸We''re very happy and grateful that you''re here to speak with us, sir. Truly.¡¹


    ¡¸The pleasure''s mine, miss.¡¹


    Stepping up onto the floor, although he was charmed by her ladylike genuity, Kazuma sensed a hint of unease lacing Yuko''s encouraging words of appreciation.


    Why was he feeling jittery all of a sudden? He had absolutely nothing to be nervous for¨Cthis "Al'''' guy was doing just fine, entertaining Mieko with some random story despite his livelihood literally being in another man¡¯s hands.


    ¡¸Mister Kamoi?¡¹


    Hanging up his coat on the rack beside the door, Yuko had taken note of Kazuma''s bout of silence. After only making his acquaintance mere moments before, call it a woman''s intuition or an extra sense, she could tell that this wasn''t typical behavior for him.


    Jolting from the sudden call of his name, he shook his head before looking down towards Yuko once more.


    ¡¸Follow me, we''ll all go into the room on the right.¡¹ With a hand resting on her skirt and another gesturing towards a doorway, Yuko beckoned for Kazuma to follow her.


    As they followed Mieko and Alfred through the narrow hall leading further into the house, Kazuma took his time to candidly inspect the state of the home''s interior. It was certainly a home fit for a large family. Surely in normal circumstances, a family of three would be able to live quite comfortably in such a sizable space¨Cbut these clearly weren''t normal circumstances, not even close. Kazuma suppressed a string of sneezes fighting to drop from his nose as he inhaled the dusty air and hints of mold pervading his senses. He brought a finger to his eyes as they began to water from the dust particles floating about.


    His thoughts were becoming muddled again.


    A familiar sense of duty and obligation swept through him, the reason being one which he had long since buried in the recesses of his heart.


    He remembered how he felt while looking at the home from the outside, and as he rounded the corner into the room on the right, towards Mieko¡¯s enthusiastic greetings and into the lion¡¯s den, he reminded himself.


    ¡¸Lu-chan!¡¹


    This was for business. This was not for charity.


    This was not for a second chance.

 19: A Challenge

    The moment Kamoi Kazuma entered the room, an air of antiquity combined with a new-age panache seemed to emanate from every corner. The man¡¯s very being was one that oozed a confidence prematurely defiant to anyone who doubted his abilities.


    And to those who doubted him be damned ¨C a prime specimen of a successful investor in a large city was a rarity due to dog-eat-dog competition, and because of this he made his presence and achievements known wherever he went.


    Meeting a new client? He wouldn¡¯t be caught dead in a suit older than one year.


    Taking a woman out for the evening? Pay for everything in the largest bills the bank was printing.


    Nobody denied him. His image was one that told others ¡°run with me to be me.¡±


    And in these times, most everyone wouldn¡¯t have minded to live a day, or if given the opportunity a lifetime, in his shoes.


    So why would this American with a family to support shy away from whatever offer he was going to give?


    He wouldn¡¯t, Kazuma was certain.


    The man appeared to be around the same age as him, perhaps a bit younger. Or older? Al, as Mieko had called him, had a face that changed slightly every time you looked at him. The muscles in his face were slightly worn, faint lines digging into his forehead and in the corners of his eyes, but at other times one would barely notice his age given how childish his smile was and how his eyes lit up as he strode over to shake Kazuma¡¯s hand.


    The bespectacled man held out his hand. ¡°Pleasure to be meeting you! Mister¡­.¡±


    Kazuma took his hand in a firm shake, ¡°Kazuma. Kamoi Kazuma...¡± His voice and eyes trailed away from the American in front of him to gaze at a different American.


    A girl.


    In a worn chair opposite the two men, a familiar pretty young lady sat with her legs crossed, except her expression wasn¡¯t attractive at all.


    His thin lips pursed into a smirk.


    Quite the coincidence, and quite the reason to give this hole in the wall a fighting chance.


    He welcomed her derisive stare with a mockingly joyful expression.


    ¡°Well, who would have known you were the girl Mieko¡¯s been rambling on about! Good to see you in a less chaotic setting!¡±


    If shitting bricks was something that was actually humanly possible, Lucy would have done so right then and there.


    Mieko knows him? He¡¯s the family friend!?


    All she could do was stare and grip the sides of her chair as if it were keeping her from leaving corporeal existence.


    Mieko¡¯s excited expression wavered slightly as she took in the thick atmosphere between her two friends.


    Had they met before? Lucy would never mention anything about meeting a random man in the street, that she knew, but surely Kazuma would have brought up acquainting himself with an American living in Osaka.


    Her eyes flickered up to Kazuma¡¯s face. He was composed but she could tell that he was excited to be seeing her again, so why didn¡¯t he mention anything about the first encounter?


    She puffed out her cheeks in frustration.


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    The sly, secret keeping bastard.


    The awkward silence steeping in the air dissipated as Kazuma seemingly laughed in Lucy¡¯s face from across the room. ¡°Not talking this time, hm?¡± He cocked his head to the side. ¡°No problem at all, I like a challenge.¡±


    Chills ran down Lucy¡¯s spine and a blush crept up her cheeks at his predatory tone.


    Mieko attempted to do damage control as best as she could, exchanging reassuring glances between the two parties. ¡¸I...thought you could work well with them, Kazu, your personalities...bounce off each other¡­.!¡¹ A weak laugh finished her declaration as she popped her hands in the air to emphasize her words.


    She timidly looked over to Alfred who had his elbow rested on one arm, hand cupping his chin, amused at the whole situation unfolding before him.


    ¡°Hold it.¡± He laughed nervously, a lopsided grin placating his features as he pieced together what he could understand. ¡°Lucy, do you know him?¡±


    Kazuma¡¯s eyes shifted from Alfred over to the girl once more.


    Lucy. He made a mental note.


    It was an adorable name, admittedly, like something you would give a small dog.


    With a loud bark and no bite.


    He chuckled to himself.


    Oh, how fitting for this one.


    Vague hand gestures followed by a miffed groan were all Lucy responded with. The last thing she expected to do, or wanted to do today was verbally reenact quite simply one the most embarrassing moments to have transpired during her stay in this city.


    Alfred continued to push Lucy for an answer.


    ¡°Well if you know him, why didn¡¯t you bring him in!?¡± His exasperated, comic-like cry of desperation only irritated her more.


    Kazuma peered down to lock eyes with Mieko who appeared to be losing hope for this situation by the second.


    Was this brazen back and forth a regular occurrence? A business, hell, how did they even function as a family unit let alone a business? His smile tugged at the corners of his eyes as if to reassure her that everything would be fine, but for a second his confidence wavered yet again.


    Both of them were snapped back to reality by Lucy tapping her heel on the aged floor in front of her.


    She huffed a piece of hair from her face. ¡°It¡¯s not like I knew he was Mieko¡¯s..?¡± She shifted her head towards Kazuma, icy stare expectantly waiting for him to explain himself.


    He didn¡¯t break eye contact with her as he flipped out a business card from his vest pocket, holding it between two fingers in front of Alfred.


    ¡°Consider me an associate of the Takahara family, I¡¯ve done business with them for a couple of years.¡±


    He tore his gaze away from his interrogator and towards Alfred as he gingerly took the card from Kazuma¡¯s fingers. He laughed inwardly to himself, observing Alfred¡¯s eyes quizzically raking over the card.


    ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry, can you read Japanese? I unfortunately don¡¯t carry any English ones.¡±


    ¡°Of course, he can read the kanji for ¡®money¡¯ and ¡®alcohol,¡¯ what else would he need?¡± Lucy snarked, placing a fist up to her mouth and glancing over at Yuko. The inside joke between them was that Alfred only bothered to learn phrases suitable either for a three year old or a member of the mafia.


    Before Alfred could concoct a respectable comeback, her laughter ceased and body stiffened as Kazuma hummed to himself, strutting towards her with his hands laced behind his back.


    ¡¸I take it you know more? You were quite impressive the other day¡¹


    It was true. He¡¯d met a few well-read Westerners who were familiar with basic phrases, who futilely tried to impress him at gatherings and the like, but this girl¡¯s vocabulary and pronunciation just about dumbfounded him.


    ¡°Sorry for the change in subject¡­¡± Yuko¡¯s smooth voice rang out amidst the tense overtone in the room. ¡°But..." She turned to face Alfred, eyes moving over to Lucy and Kazuma.


    ¡°How did you two meet?¡±


    Both her and Alfred looked expectantly at Kazuma. Mieko was still steaming that he didn¡¯t say anything about meeting Lucy in the first place.


    ¡°Interesting story, miss!¡± He spun around flamboyantly, pointing his index finger high in the air. ¡°I met this little lady not too far from here and not too long ago!¡± His finger then flew behind him towards Lucy as he waved his other hand absentmindedly.


    He stretched his neck to peek back at Lucy¡¯s reddened face.


    ¡°Well doll, we might as well go public now that the cat¡¯s out of the bag!¡±

 20: Entertainment (with illustration)

    ¡°Alright Luce.¡± Her uncle huffed. ¡°Get us a pound of rice, and two potatoes if you see them!¡± Alfred peeked up from the book he had just pulled from a box tucked away in the corner of the front room.


    Japanese to English Dictionary, Third Edition.


    It had been two weeks since their arrival in Osaka and the place was still a pigsty, as Lucy¡¯s mother would have called it had she been unfortunate enough to be alive to see the wreckage herself.


    ¡°And remember!¡± He pointed his finger towards her, a determined gleam in his eyes. ¡°Haggle.¡±


    Lucy scoffed as she pinned her hair up into her hat before stepping out the door.


    ¡°Yeah, with this generous ONE yen, I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± She drawled back with a roll of her eyes.


    A pound of rice. Still hasn¡¯t memorized the metric system, I see.


    Really, how hard was it? Wasn¡¯t he a farmer? It was far easier than kanji, but he couldn¡¯t seem to learn that either. Maybe the saying ¡°old dogs can¡¯t learn new tricks¡± had some seeds of truth. She often forgot she was almost twenty years younger than her eccentric uncle. He was always acting like a rambunctious schoolboy rather than a grown man.


    She bit back a snicker as she remembered the day he turned forty last year.


    I¡¯ll forever be thirty-nine! He cried triumphantly, a hand to his chest and his arm resting dramatically upon his forehead.


    The memory made her sigh to herself as she strutted down the still unfamiliar street of their current home. Yuko had told her when they first arrived that the narrow street was known for merchants promoting their wares from dawn till dusk. Men and women were bustling about like fish in a school. One step in the wrong direction and Lucy might find herself face to face with a waresman trying to haggle her or a policeman eager to pounce and suspect her of some petty theft.


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    Lucy hated how the officers and passersby ogled her every time she made her way through town. She deduced after a few trips that it must have been because she was very obviously ¡°not from here,¡± rather messy, and thus must not have had much money. She figured that they thought of her as an outcast, a poor lost soul that most likely had to connive for survival.


    It was for this very reason Lucy tied her light-colored hair up and hid it beneath her patchy Sunday hat that she wore to chapel back home. She had hoped hiding her hair would protect her from the stares and murmurs she received on the daily, and to an extent it did, but her face still gave away that she didn¡¯t belong.


    Quite simply, she couldn¡¯t win.


    She turned a corner onto a new street, trying her darndest to locate a shop or a stall that had rice at a price within her pathetic budget.


    Not mine. She chastised herself.


    His budget. If it were up to me, we wouldn¡¯t have crossed the country, let alone the Pacific.


    There she went again, ruminating over things she no longer had control over or rather never had control over. It was getting worse by the day.


    As time marched on and the seasons quickly changed from a warm spring into a scorching summer, Lucy was certain that they wouldn¡¯t make it past May, but here they were. Despite her uncle¡¯s mishandling of his inheritance, they hung on.


    Their luck wasn¡¯t running out and she hated it.


    Her pity party was interrupted by the thundering voice of a man.


    ¡¸Hey, hey, you, girl! You look like you could use a few!¡¹


    She turned towards the voice and saw three men, interestingly all of seemingly contrasting social statuses, sitting in an izakaya across the street. One of them in a dark blue uniform that Lucy had often seen men wearing in the fish markets beckoned for her to come over.


    She did a double take and immediately felt a redness dust across her cheeks. Hands frantically moving up towards the nape of her neck, she felt her hair beginning to fall from its bun.


    Shit. She quickly fixed her hair back up into her hat and almost tumbled over herself as waves of people continued their strolls, actively bumping into her as if she were invisible.


    She had to keep moving, she didn¡¯t have time to entertain. She started a brisk pace away from the izakaya and away from the men inside.

 21: A New Venture (with illustration)

    It was only noon and Kazuma was on his second glass of sake and his second cigarette with his friends Touma and Hiro. Normally he wielded significantly more control regarding his vices. He had made a rule for himself years ago that he wouldn¡¯t drink until the day¡¯s work was done (or almost done) but even he had his moments, or days, of lapsed judgement.


    He hadn¡¯t planned on meeting them here today, really, but they insisted on being one of the first to hear his regaling of life in the United States.


    ¡¸Ah, that¡¯s the stuff! Old man Asahi never fails me!¡¹ Touma Nakaizumi, a local fish merchant and Kazuma¡¯s childhood friend, swigged back his beer as if he himself were a fish out of water.


    ¡¸I don¡¯t believe Asahi was the name of the founder, my friend.¡¹ Kazuma rested his forehead between his fingers, already massaging his temple.


    ¡¸Whatever, beer¡¯s beer! His name could be Akui or something and I¡¯d still drink it.¡¹


    If only he had been able to avoid this reunion for another week. Kazuma had only been back in the country for just a few days and he was still adjusting back to his life as an investor. He had resumed his routine from three years ago, making the rounds to businesses he had partnered with before his departure. Kazuma was pleased that many of his ventures had put his money to good use¡ªMs. Sakurai¡¯s flower shop had nearly quadrupled its business since they now supplied Dutch tulips all the way from Nagasaki, Mister Honda¡¯s tailoring company¡¯s sales have been soaring thanks to buying more advertising space in the paper, and ever since the new renovations, Ms. Haruna¡¯s cafe had been attracting more and more pretty girls to apply for the now-coveted positions of tea girls.


    ¡¸Hey, hey! Damn it, don¡¯t zone out on me now! Quit thinking about your job or whatever and tell us about America!¡¹ Touma snapped his fingers in front of Kazuma¡¯s blank face while wrapping an arm around Hiro, their other friend Touma dragged away from his job as an accountant.


    How Touma managed to pull Hiro away from his abacus on a Tuesday afternoon, he hadn¡¯t the slightest idea but it was a hell of a feat. At the very least, Kazuma may as well make his losing income worthwhile.


    Tracing the rim of his glass, Kazuma sighed contentedly. ¡¸Well, life there is certainly more progressive in some areas and regressive in others.¡¹ He shook his head and let out a chuckle, eyes never leaving the glass in front of him.


    ¡¸Is it true that most Americans rely on a diet consisting primarily of meat?¡¹ Hiro spoke up, lightly lifting Touma¡¯s arm from his shoulder and leaning forward on his elbows. ¡¸I couldn¡¯t imagine that would be a sustainable lifestyle, it must be astronomically expensive.¡¹


    ¡¸Come on, this man just came back from ¡®the land of freedom¡¯ after three years and you want to know about bullshit statistics and dietal tendencies!?¡¹


    Leave it to the accountant to be more interested in the finances of meat-based diets rather than the people who consumed them.


    The running joke amongst the three of them, much to Hiro¡¯s dismay, was that he had broken the rungs of more abacuses in his young life than the hearts of women. A record nobody wanted to best him in, really.


    Taking a swig from his glass and nudging Hiro nearly off his seat, Touma spoke up again. ¡¸Ignore him, I for one want to know about the action, the people!¡¹ He lit a cigarette from his pocket. ¡¸The girls.¡¹ A smirk tugged at his lips as he puffed out a cloud of smoke. ¡¸Not to mention you left at a wild time, hell, everyone was at war with everyone and you still managed to sneak your way out of the country for three years. Three years! Aren¡¯t you in your thirties now!? How are you not married?¡¹


    At this point Touma was a bumbling, tipsy mess, fascination turning into frustration as he took Hiro¡¯s shoulder and pushed it back and forth while he continued berating Kazuma.


    ¡¸Leave me and my shoulder out of this, I cannot afford to have it dislocated again!¡¹ Hiro yelped, squirming his way out of Touma¡¯s grasp. ¡¸And really!¡¹ He turned away from Touma and towards Kazuma sympathetically. ¡¸It¡¯s not appropriate in any case to ask him about something so personal as why he¡¯s not married yet, have some decorum!¡¹


    Decorum. Marriage.


    Both of their attentions were snapped back towards Kazuma, who nearly snorted from laughing at Hiro¡¯s pathetically naive attempt at comfort. Shoulders still shaking from laughing so hard in nearly a decade, Kazuma placed down his glass and lit a cigarette of his own.


    The comfort of tobacco was much more effective than anything a woman could provide.


    ¡¸Forgive me, but I¡¯m nearly certain I¡¯ve mentioned to both of you before that I¡¯ve no plans in the near or distant future to take a wife.¡¹ He shook his head as he was met with a mischievous grin from Touma and a grim frown of disbelief from Hiro.


    ¡¸I know you¡¯ve told us that but-¡¹ Hiro made vague hand gestures in the air in front of him, trying his best to conjure up a plausible argument.


    ¡¸But-¡¹ He was cut off by Touma with a hand to his face. ¡¸I guess we just thought that when you came back, you¡¯d...want to settle down. Weren¡¯t you pretty heavy with that Sanae girl? I remember you two met at some fancy party or something and then you were seeing her every weekend.¡¹


    ¡¸If by heavy you mean physical, then yes, meaningful conversations and wanting to spend the rest of my life with her, no.¡¹


    Sanae.


    To be honest with himself, Kazuma hadn¡¯t thought much about her since he left for New York. The young daughter of a banker who invited Kazuma to a party of had caught his eye at a rather unfortunate time. He was right in the midst of discussing with Mieko¡¯s father the prospects of working and studying in the United States, but he decided to enjoy his time ticking away in Osaka with what he felt were no strings attached romps, for lack of a more decent word. Looking back on his actions now as an older man, even he found it a bit cruel that he never bothered to write to her after spending nearly half a year sharing intimacies with one another.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Ignoring Hiro and Touma¡¯s expectant stares, he rested his thumb and index finger under his chin, mapping out a plan for damage control for the inevitable moment they crossed paths once more.


    ¡¸Well good riddance! She was nice to look at but such a pain.¡¹ Touma yelled out after tossing his cigarette into the ashtray on the counter.


    Hiro was the first to notice Kazuma¡¯s faltering grin. ¡¸Don¡¯t tell me you haven¡¯t bothered to stay in contact with her.¡¹ His eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at Kazuma¡¯s blank face.


    Double taking back towards Touma, who he found to be just as apprehensive as he was, he continued. ¡¸Kazuma, I¡¯ve heard she¡¯s not married yet, so I can only infer-¡¹


    ¡¸I know.¡¹ Kazuma snipped. ¡¸I know what you¡¯re implying, but I¡¯ve never promised her anything beyond evenings spent together and dinner so I don¡¯t think I¡¯m in the wrong here.¡¹ He was becoming irritated at their digging. Wasn¡¯t Mieko¡¯s father enough?


    Leaning back in his chair, he decided to try and change the subject and returned back to Touma¡¯s original question.


    ¡¸Speaking of girls, the ones across the way are much...louder than the ones we have here, take that as you will.¡¹ His relaxed demeanor returned as he mindlessly peered out the window adjacent to their seats. He laughed, memories of days spent with the spunky Martillo heiress and her older brother flooding back as if they all had gone out together just the other day. ¡¸They¡¯ve recently won the right to vote in the elections for their president, isn¡¯t that something? Can you imagine something like that happening here?¡¹


    ¡¸I did hear about that, actually.¡¹ Hiro quipped while cleaning the frames of his glasses. ¡¸And that happening here? How about extending it to all men, for starters? If you ask me, women all over are asking for too much these days. They want to work alongside men, what about caring for the home and children? A woman can¡¯t do both, it¡¯s simply unheard of.¡¹


    Kazuma bit his tongue. Shaking his head, he attempted to humor Hiro''s opinionated stances, what some progressive Americans he had met would refer to as ¡°sexism.¡±


    ¡¸Now, now, I know your head¡¯s still stuck in the Meiji era, but it would be wise to join the current decade, Hiro.¡¹ He chuckled and finished off his glass of sake. ¡¸It¡¯s only a matter of time before that little wife of yours is itching for something more fulfilling than folding your underwear and matching your socks.¡¹


    Hiro sheepishly covered his face as the two men beside him roared with laughter.


    ¡¸Kazu has a point, y¡¯know-woah-¡¹ Touma¡¯s gaze shifted past Hiro¡¯s agitated frown and out onto the crowded street beside them.


    ¡¸Is that a foreign girl or did I have one too many?¡¹ He squinted, grasping for Hiro¡¯s glasses and succeeding in yanking them off his face.


    ¡¸Those won¡¯t improve your eyesight, you drunken idiot!¡¹ Hiro snapped, swiping his glasses away from Touma¡¯s grip. He peered out towards the street and saw her as well, a tiny thing examining what appeared to be a note in her hand. ¡¸And who cares, she¡¯s probably some English teacher¡¯s wife out shopping for groceries. I guarantee you she¡¯s not interested in philandering with some wanton fisherman!¡¹


    ¡¸We¡¯ll see about that, married man! Some of us aren¡¯t in our graves just yet.¡¹ And with a wave of his hand in Hiro¡¯s steaming face, Touma decided to yell out into the crowd, nearly clanking his glass on Kazuma¡¯s head as he raised it in the air.


    ¡¸Hey, hey, you, girl! You look like you could use a few!¡¹


    ¡¸Charming.¡¹ Hiro placed his head in his hands, praying to any god who would be so kind to teleport him as far away from the man next to him as possible.


    Despite the sea of people streaming up and down the street before them, he had managed to get the girl¡¯s attention. He cocked his brow and flashed an otherwise appealing smile save for the inopportune timing of the situation. The girl was floundering amidst the hustle and bustle, hell, she even took time to fix her hair in the middle of the street.


    Foreigners were...perplexing.


    ¡¸Don¡¯t bother, she can¡¯t understand you...I hope.¡¹ Hiro spoke up, voice muffled from his hands covering his flushed face. Through the spaces in between his fingers, he observed the way this girl had stopped dead in her tracks to rearrange her hat and stare daggers into the three of them before trotting off down the street.


    Watching her fade into the distance, a sigh of relief whooshed past Hiro¡¯s lips. ¡¸Thank goodness, that could have ended horribly.¡¹


    As if he was impaled in the chest with a sword, Touma eyed Hiro in disbelief, shaking his head in bewilderment.


    ¡¸What, an ending where I meet a cute girl who would marry me and welcome me home and make me dinner every night? Oh, how horrible! And you-!¡¹


    Before Hiro could respond with how absurd and inconceivable Touma¡¯s fantasy was, the man in question was stabbing his index finger past Hiro and into Kazuma¡¯s chest.


    ¡¸You just sit there? That could have been my future wife and you don¡¯t even bother to use your English powers to help your best friend!¡¹


    ¡¸You¡¯re being ridiculous, if you even somehow succeeded in your efforts, do you expect Kazuma to be your live-in translator!?¡¹


    ¡¸If he values my friendship, which, mind you, is priceless, he would!¡¹


    ¡¸You¡¯re drunk and a moron!¡¹


    If he was being completely honest, Kazuma wasn¡¯t paying the slightest attention towards his two quarreling friends. He didn¡¯t even give a damn that he was the object of their bickering, rather, his attention was completely seized by that fetching little lady Touma had unfortunately scared away. Kazuma had heard Hiro and Touma speaking about her, and he had seen Touma motioning her to come over towards them, but their words went in one ear and out the other as his gears turned.


    A smirk tugging at his lips and a million ideas buzzing about in his head, Kazuma abruptly stood from his chair and turned towards the door.


    ¡¸Wait, wait, where are you going?¡¹ Hiro¡¯s eyes tore away from Touma and followed Kazuma. He hadn¡¯t even been with them for twenty minutes!


    ¡¸If you¡¯re going to walk out on us, at least pay! I am not going to cover you, not when you¡¯re making probably five times what I make in a year! Hey!¡¹


    ¡¸Cover me, we all know I¡¯m secretly your favorite!¡¹ Touma whined.


    ¡¸Men don¡¯t have favorites! They just have friends, and friends don¡¯t walk out on other friends after not seeing them for three years!¡¹


    Kazuma quickly turned after hearing Hiro¡¯s huffing and puffing tirade. He furrowed his brows and waved his hand dismissively. ¡¸I¡¯ll be back, just give me a minute.¡¹ He drawled, tapping out his cigarette and stepping outside onto the stone road.


    ¡¸Where are you going?¡¹


    ¡¸Towards my next business venture.¡¹


    Without another word, he was off.

 22: Your Guide

    Without another word, Kazuma was off.


    He turned towards the direction she had headed in, hawk eyes searching for a head of tied up sandy hair.


    Now, she couldn¡¯t have gotten far¡­


    It took him all but one minute to pick her out and set his aim.


    His time was money, his business was money, and this girl was going to be the crown jewel of his career.


    She hadn¡¯t seemed to notice him eventually sliding up beside her, the two of them rubbing elbows as he squirmed his way through the crowd.


    She flinched at the contact, hands rising to her chest and eyes quizzically peeking up from the brim of her hat.


    ¡¸Excuse me, miss!¡¹ He mustered up all the charm he possibly could while trying his darndest to keep up with the girl. He craned his neck down to meet her face, grinning from ear to ear. ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry about how that man hollered at you back there, please know that he meant no harm. People around here¡¯re just not used to seeing foreigners! And such a pretty one, at that!¡± He expected a smile, a blush, a giggle, anything that indicated to him this girl held the slightest interest in pursuing a conversation with him. Nothing.


    She was a challenge.


    ¡¸We¡¯re in Osaka, near the ship docks. There¡¯s other foreigners here.¡¹ her sudden matter-of-fact quip caught him off guard. His shoulders stiffened. Had she just replied to him in Japanese?


    She returned her gaze back to the street in front of them momentarily before raising her eyes back up to sneak a glance at the man still striding alongside her.


    Why was he still staring at her? Did she have some leftover carrot stuck on her cheek from lunch? Look at the road, or better yet, just leave her alone completely!


    The girl¡¯s expectant, suspicious stare eventually coaxed Kazuma out of his confusion. He momentarily smiled to himself, looking down at the ground before meeting her eyes again.


    ¡°Ah, well to be more specific, female foreigners are quite a rarity, so I¡¯m afraid you stick out...for better or worse.¡± He trailed off, allowing himself the liberty of mulling over her appearance. Upon viewing her from the bar counter, he knew she was pretty, but on further inspection, to him, she was absolutely gorgeous.


    Despite her messy hair and plain clothes, he could imagine the stares and offhand comments this diamond in the rough received on the daily.


    All the more incentive to monetize her.


    She was quite small, her head of curly, dark blonde hair reaching just beneath his neck. Vivid blue eyes were framed by long lashes, dark and thick. The spattering of freckles across her nose, while some may have dismissed them as childish and unbecoming for a lady, Kazuma found to be rather endearing, providing her perpetually somber face with an air of innocence.


    His eyes roamed down her neck to her clothes: a simple white blouse and a burgundy skirt which kissed her ankles and hugged her waist. No matter how chaste her clothes were, it was clear as day that she had quite a desirable physique.


    He silently scoffed under his breath-what was this girl doing? An absolute doll wearing such dated fashion! Did she enjoy looking like some corn-dwelling bible thumper rather than a woman of the times?


    Noticing her skeptical gaze once again, his eyes fell to mindlessly inspect his shoes before meeting the road in front of them. He decided it best to stop staring and change the subject, lest the girl go running off completely.


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    ¡¸How did you know I speak Japanese?¡¹


    Just as he opened his mouth to sweet talk some more, the girl¡¯s demeanor changed from cold to downright frigid as she was visibly losing her patience.


    His mouth froze into a taught smile, racking his brain for what this girl could be referencing¨Chad he spoken to her in Japanese? No, he called out to her in English, he even mentally scripted it!


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, miss, but I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re referring to!¡± He cocked his head to the side.


    ¡°Sir, you-¡±


    ¡°Ah!¡± Kazuma snapped his fingers, his face lighting up. ¡°I did say ¡¸excuse me¡¯ didn¡¯t I?¡± He chuckled while shaking his head. Touma¡¯s babbling about her in Japanese must have thrown him off course.


    ¡°My apologies for blindly assuming you understood me, miss. I¡¯m usually more¡­¡± He rolled his wrist as if to conjure the most fitting word from the air in front of him. ¡°Attentive.¡±


    He flashed her a wink before tugging at her sleeve, guiding her away from a possible collision with a rather hurried businessman.


    Kazuma flashed the man an irritated glare. Year after year, day after day, the art of chivalry worldwide was resembling more of a dying artform rather than a modern code of conduct, and it was absolutely maddening.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± The girl murmured past her wavering lips.


    He smirked as he relished in the crooked smile creeping onto her soft features. It was refreshing, in a sense - one moment she sounded like she was plotting his murder and the next she was suppressing a blush from his advances.


    A little moody, but that¡¯s manageable.


    He lowered himself to meet her face yet again before he continued. ¡°I must say though, your Japanese is quite good, my dear. How did you learn if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡±


    He wouldn¡¯t even consider this to be his usual flattery¨Cif her looks weren¡¯t enough to stun him, her near-perfect pronunciation of his mother tongue was more than sufficient.


    And more than beneficial for his fiscal prospects.


    ¡¸It''s amazing what you can learn when your livelihood is on the line.¡¹ She huffed, her thin eyebrows raising as she decided to do some interrogating herself. ¡°And I think I should be the one asking you why your English is so good.¡±


    Lucy was never one for idle chatter. Despite scolding herself for entertaining conversation with a strange man on the street, however, she was admittedly finding herself to be enjoying his company.


    Would her uncle ream her a new one if she was back any later than afternoon? Perhaps, but she decided that a brief conversation with a seemingly well-to-do stranger, who was able to speak her own language no less, was well-deserved and a fleeting escape from her uncle¡¯s shenanigans and silly schemes that seemed to endlessly flow from his oddball brain.


    "So, what are you, a merchant?"


    She silently cringed as she heard the country twang that laced her brash questioning.


    Why was she suddenly feeling ashamed of how she spoke? Normally, Lucy wouldn''t bother to worry herself with such frivolous topics, but for whatever reason¡ªperhaps the way he spoke¡ªbeing with this man brought about a feeling of insecurity within her.


    He spoke in verbage resembling that of showmen, a kind of swanky Mid-Atlantic accent that was now commonplace among upper-class men in cities across America.


    His pronunciation was astounding. He was very clearly someone well-to-do, perhaps some sort of high-ranking merchant or salesman. His black wool suit looked as if he was wearing it for the first time today. Even she was able to tell that it was tailored beautifully, and the vest underneath seemed to be made from some kind of fabric Lucy wouldn''t feel worthy of touching with her pinky.


    In layman''s terms, the guy was clearly rolling in it.


    He grinned down at her, hand reaching up to toy at the lapel on his suit.


    "What am I? I¡¯m glad you asked, miss! I¡¯m not a merchant, but I sure help a lot of them! Loans, allowances, you name it."


    He stifled a chuckle as he drank in the quizzical look cast upon her face.


    Perfect.


    Now that she was visibly interested, it was prime time to lay down his proposal.


    "I invest in a lot of businesses around here, but I¡¯m also very interested in putting my money towards individuals."


    He eyed her again, a glint of wolfish resolve permeating from his locked gaze.


    It was Lucy''s turn to let out a tiny laugh of her own, one laced with reservation and something unfamiliar that caused her stomach to churn.


    "I...don''t follow."


    Kazuma let out another chuckle.


    "Well, allow me to be your guide, miss."

 23: A Familiar Face

    Before Lucy could object let alone comprehend any shrouded meaning behind his puzzling words, she felt a firm grip on her wrist as she was led away from the liveliness on the street and into a calm alleyway.


    Suddenly alarm bells were ringing in her head, her only comfort being the animated crowds a few meters away. She opened her mouth to speak, yet again cut off by the man before her.


    "I stopped you because I believe I can help you with..." Resting an arm above her, his stare drifted up and down her lithe form tragically draped in the stale white blouse and passe ankle skirt, his thumb and index finger reaching to brush at his moustache. "With your monetary distress."


    Lucy blinked. She blinked again, shaking her head.


    Huh.


    "Excuse me?" Her head jutted forward on instinct, eyes turning into slits as she pondered slapping the man''s shit-eating, lopsided grin off his face.


    Were all rich folk across the world somehow innately born with this amount of audacity?


    Surely, with her clothes she wasn¡¯t going to be in the pictures any time soon but-


    ¡¸I wanted to discuss a business opportunity, more specifically!¡¹ Too absorbed in the proposal he was delivering to the girl, he hadn''t noticed the look of disdain that had returned to her face.


    She was still staring at him dumbfounded, mouth agape.


    ¡¸I¡¯m-¡¹ She was about to croak out some sort of defense at his little jab, but she was again cut off by his increasingly irritating, self-assured speech.


    ¡¸You''re married?¡¹ He simpered down at her, bobbing his head to the side as he leaned his weight on his arm. "To what, an English instructor? Missionary?" He laughed again while shaking his head.


    Lucy wanted nothing more than to tell him that no, she wasn''t married, and even if she was, whether it be to an English teacher or a missionary or the King of England for all she cared, why was it any of his business?


    Christ almighty, the man still hadn''t even bothered to give his name!


    Clicking his tongue, he continued. "You¡¯ve seen all the businessmen, all the traders, any men weary for companionship coming into cafes and restaurants to philander with the nice-looking girls inside, I¡¯m sure."


    He briefly shifted his head, eyeing both directions before carrying on in a hushed tone.


    "Speaking English, speaking Japanese, you¡¯d be a hot commodity, girlie, making good money, better money than your own husband, I guarantee! Hell, you could probably divorce him if you wanted!" He threw his head back in a hearty laugh while Lucy was trying her best to tamper down all the hostile wisecracks begging to slip past her lips.


    "You''d be a nice, familiar face for foreign customers and an exotic one for the locals." He carried on as he reached in his pocket before fishing out what appeared to be a business card. "I have a lot of connections to many of those businesses around here, miss, you¡¯re a shoo-in for at least one of them. Of course, we¡¯d have to get you some current clothes, but one step at a time as they say! What matters most is that face of yours!¡±


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    Lucy was seething.


    Had he invaded her personal space, snubbed her overall appearance, and haughtily (albeit correctly) assumed her class rank?


    Yep, sure, fine and dandy. She''d even take half of the blame for this situation. He managed to catch her off guard initially with an alluring flair that Lucy admittedly fell for hook line and sinker. That¡¯s why she was in this damn alleyway to begin with.


    But to conclude that she''d be hard-pressed enough to engage in that kind of work for him? And then having the gall to shroud his "business opportunity" under the guise of some twisted charity?


    ¡°A joke.¡±


    "The hell it is, I''m completely serious!"


    Her eyes widened as she gnawed at the inside of her cheek.


    Did I say that out loud? Of course.


    Eyebrows raised and his head strained down, he was twisting the card in between his middle and index fingers waiting for her to request one.


    ¡¸Please.¡¹ The muscles in his cheek twitched as he strove to maintain his composure.


    God damn, was he pleading? Usually, people were the ones begging him for business, not the other way around.


    "Think of it as an investment for our mutual benefit."


    ¡¸I''m not interested.¡¹ She disregarded his expectant stare, her hat nearly flying off her head as she hastily turned away from him. Just as she was about to make a break for the road she was originally led away from, something sturdy bumping into her waist prevented her body from moving any further.


    The long arm that had originally been placed rather uncomfortably high above her head was now acting as a barricade between her and any means of escape.


    He flicked the card back into his pocket, huffing out a puff of air while tapping his leathered shoe on the pavement.


    "You Americans know better than anyone that time is money, my dear." The man''s voice was strained with a slight irritation woven into his usually merry tone, his patience ticking away with each passing minute.


    I''m not interested.


    Hearing those three words fly out of the frail''s mouth stoked a flame within him to push her harder.


    Indeed, she was a challenge.


    And really, just who was she to turn him down? This girl should be forever grateful that a man of his repute was even giving her a second of his day let alone the opportunity to rub elbows with him professionally.


    "Oh, I''m so sorry for taking up your time." She spat back at him, somehow finding enough courage within herself to shove his arm away from her shaking form.


    Feeling the hurried touch of her delicate fingers against his jacket sleeve was enough for him to pull his arm away. No matter how much he wanted her to say yes, no matter how poor a decision this girl was making in refusing his offer, he was never a man to force a lady outside her limits.


    "And for the record, sir, I would much prefer a life of modesty with my propriety intact rather than exploiting myself for a man who belittles me." She savored his faltering grin with newly found satisfaction simmering beneath her skin. After one conversation, she could tell that few have managed to tell him no, to ruffle his feathers, and she was more than happy to be one of the first.


    Determined to have the last word, a trait that merited many a firm hand against her face during her adolescence, she abruptly spun on her boot heel out towards the street, paying no heed to the wispy hairs falling from her twist.


    "Good day."


    And she was gone, once again fading into the animated crowd he had discovered her in originally.


    "An inspiration to women everywhere." Kazuma sarcastically scoffed with a roll of his eyes. Tapping his shoe, he found himself fishing for his box of cigarettes in his pant pocket.


    Taking a drag and tampering down any misgivings of rejection, he began to make his way back towards the izakaya housing his bickering comrades.

 24: Street Rat (with illustration)

    "So you basically assumed she was a street rat, asked her to join you in a business venture, and she walked out on it?"


    Alfred threw his hands up in the air, head darting in disbelief between Yuko and Lucy.


    "Luce, why didn''t you take him up on it? You''re always going on about how we don''t have a plan, and then you turn one down!"


    "Did you already forget about the ''street rat'' part?" Lucy bit back defensively, lips jerking into a disapproving frown.


    It wasn''t even past noon and she had already had her fill of the opposite sex for the day. Honestly, could her uncle, her own flesh and blood, take her side just this one time? He''d known this Kazuma man for less than an hour, less than half an hour, and she could tell that her uncle was already partial towards his side of the story.


    "Now, I never assumed she was a street rat, that''s a rather harsh way of putting it." Seated on a slightly tattered sofa with Mieko at his side, Kazuma figured there was no time like the present for some much overdue damage control.


    "What''s a ''street rat''?" Mieko looked up at Kazuma inquisitively. She hadn''t the slightest clue what the word "rat" meant, but combining it with the word "street" was clearly something to avoid.


    ¡¸It''s a very rude way to refer to a poor person.¡¹ Yuko spoke up while rounding the back of Lucy''s chair. Lightly placing her hands on Lucy''s shoulders, she instantly noticed how stiff she was. Her eyes warily trailed from the top of Lucy''s head over to Kazuma and Mieko. ¡¸It would be wise to forget such a phrase, Mieko. There''s no need to remember it.¡¹


    Kazuma was nearly positive Yuko was staring him down specifically, a glint of maternal protectiveness seeping from her hardened gaze.


    ¡¸Oh my.¡¹ Mieko sat with her hands fidgeting in her lap, brows knitting into a tight line above her worry-filled eyes. ¡¸Kazu, you didn''t say that to her, right?¡¹ She was nervous about their plan crashing and burning before, but she was kicking herself because her concerns were completely misguided¨Cforget about her father, it was the overly confident dolt sitting next to her she should have been more concerned about!


    ¡¸For the second time.¡¹ He bobbed his left knee up and down, a tried and true remedy he employed whenever one of his affiliates was trying his patience. ¡¸No.¡¹


    Mieko could feel goosebumps rising up on her skin as that all-too-familiar tone of voice fell on her ears. She had heard it countless times before whenever he came over to fraternize with her father or when they were at parties.


    He was either losing his patience or his interest altogether.


    Oh, no, no, no that would not do.


    ¡¸Kazu-¡¹


    "I simply offered a helping hand to someone who I thought had quite a bit of potential." He clasped his hands in front of him while shifting his weight forward.


    "The offer still stands."


    Lucy''s nails dug into the armrests of her chair, the wood beneath her fingers pliant and bruising underneath her wrathful grip. He was still trying her?


    "Oh, how flattering!" Pouting out her bottom lip, she moped her head to the side in feigned admiration. "Maybe now with this second chance at monetary success I''ll finally be able to divorce my husband! Who doesn''t exist."


    "If only he did!" A wistful and mocking sigh could be heard from the corner in which Alfred stood, legs and arms crossed while leaning his head on the window.


    "You know, Luce, this right here is the exact reason why you''re not married in the first place!" He thrusted himself upright, swinging his arms towards Lucy before indignantly dropping them down to his sides. "You''re always giving people mouth and jumping down their throats, even when they''re trying to do something to help you!"


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    "Well when that help comes in the form of self-deprecation, I''m not interested." Her eyes continued to bore into Kazuma despite her uncle''s berating tirade attacking her eardrums.


    "Well maybe you could swallow your pride just this once and do it!"


    "Al." Alfred and Lucy both flinched at the edge in Yuko''s voice. Mieko froze, eyes jumping from a calm and collected Kazuma at her side towards the dysfunctional family in front of her.


    Yuko''s grip on Lucy''s shoulder grew firm, temperament becoming uncharacteristically cross.


    "Enough."


    There was something about Yuko''s tone of voice which inspired Mieko as much as it made her uncomfortable. Mieko had never before seen Yuko scold Alfred, or raise her voice to anyone for that matter. Ever since being introduced to all three of them, it had always been Alfred and Lucy at each other''s throats about one thing or another while Yuko merely laughed it off or shook her head in defeat.


    ¡¸Mister Kamoi.¡¹ Her voice reverting back to her usual soothing, hospitable tone, Yuko sent an apologetic smile towards Kazuma as she continued.


    ¡¸You''ll have to forgive these two, it''s been a rather hectic time ever since we''ve arrived and I fear they''ve both gotten a little restless due to our current situation.¡¹ Her voice was calm but the sharp squeeze on Lucy''s shoulder and stabbing gaze in Alfred''s direction served more as a warning than a comfort.


    Alfred failed to understand what Yuko was saying altogether, but Lucy felt a pang of shame and embarrassment as her eyes momentarily flickered down to the ground.


    Kazuma simply shook his head and waved his hand.


    He would have loved nothing more than to push this Lucy girl''s buttons just for a little while longer, but he ultimately decided to spare Yuko the inevitable dramatics.


    ¡¸No problem at all, that''s why I''m here.¡¹ He allowed himself one last glance in Lucy''s direction.


    She was still shooting him daggers, no surprise there.


    "Well, I can imagine you and Alfred have many matters you''d like to discuss, so," She motioned her hand for Alfred to come over while nodding her head towards Kazuma. "Al, you should bring him into the old study we just cleaned. I''m confident we''ve been able to get rid of not all but most of the dust."


    She and Kazuma both laughed at her little attempt at a joke as Mieko and Lucy met eyes for the first time since they had all sat down.


    Lucy had so many questions. How long had her and Kazuma known each other? How did he become involved with the Takahara family? Why was he so proficient in English? Was he always an insufferable jackass or was it some kind of persona?


    ¡¸Us ladies will have our own little chat out here.¡¹


    Eyes tearing away from Mieko, Lucy craned her neck backward, a mixture of unease and frustration swirling about in her stomach as she stared at Yuko with pleading eyes.


    "But w-wait, shouldn''t we-?"


    "It''ll be fine, Lucy. Trust your uncle."


    Lucy didn''t know whether she was biting back a laugh or suppressing a cry.


    Trust her uncle. Good god, she knew Yuko loved the man but she of all people should know he wasn''t exactly what one would call an aficionado in anything relating to money or business.


    What''s more, had he ever given Lucy a reason to respect let alone trust him? She couldn''t, she wouldn''t forget the sleepless nights with her brother''s head tucked under her chin as they both listened to their mother and father quarreling in the kitchen about money¨Cmoney that should have been there after her grandfather¡¯s death, but was taken to Chicago instead.


    She merely nodded her head, once again burying the memories of a home and family she¡¯d never see again into the uncharted recesses of her heart. A tiny puff of air passed through her trembling lips.


    "Fine." Her eyes trailed from her uncle stepping over towards the study''s entryway to Kazuma rising from the sofa and following suit.


    Her uncle had already completely changed his temperament, slapping on a cordial smile despite clawing into her mere minutes before.


    He should have been a goddamn showman with how talented he was at keeping face.


    "Lead the way, sir." Kazuma flicked his wrist in Alfred''s direction as he strode past Yuko and Lucy. The hand resting behind his back twitched as he caught sight of the rosy tint flaring across Lucy''s nose and cheeks.


    Was she embarrassed?


    It was rather refreshing to see a change from her usual spitfire attitude to something more demure, something more manageable. If a little scolding was all it took to get her back in line, perhaps she wouldn''t be a problem after all.


    The animated, bespectacled man enthusiastically ushering him into the adjoining room on the other hand, he wasn''t so sure yet.


    Something about his enthusiasm and¨Cwhat was it, exactly?


    An overly congenial demeanor, perhaps that was it¨Cprompted Kazuma to keep his guard up no matter how agreeable an image this Alfred Hampton was fruitlessly striving for himself. Had he already forgotten all of the shameful bickering and squabbling he and his niece had displayed to a prospective business partner? They were lucky Kazuma believed in second chances, for if he didn''t he would have been out the door with Mieko in tow within the first five minutes of making acquaintance.


    "Right this way, Mister Kamoi." Alfred gingerly slid open the door and stepped inside the dimly lit room, Kazuma following behind.


    Holding his breath as he started to shut the door behind them, the two men gave one last parting glance to the women in the sitting room before Kazuma closed the door completely.


    "So, Mister Hampton."


    He turned his body to face Alfred, one hand still resting on the door.


    "Let''s talk business, shall we?"

 25: Time is Money

    Kazuma''s eyes scanned across the study. With the exception of the faint yellow sunlight creeping through a pair of streaked windows on the right, he spotted a moth-filled light fixture hanging from the center of the room''s ceiling, one which would have positively sputtered and burnt out immediately should it have been turned on.


    Save for the insect carcasses making their graves in the ceiling lamp, the room was indeed much tidier than the rest of what he had seen of the house.


    A large Victorian-style desk situated in the very back of the room generated an atmosphere of foreboding authority in an otherwise quaint space.


    Atop the desk sat an inkwell well past its prime in one corner while another housed a tabletop clock that clearly hadn''t ticked in years.


    Shelves of books comprising a wide variety of genres lined the wall to the left with a small waiting table and lounge nestled beside them.


    Alfred took note of Kazuma''s rather meticulous inspection of the room, the hairs on his neck standing up as the door closed under Kazuma¡¯s grip.


    The way Kazuma had turned towards him as if he was a wound-up toy soldier coupled with an expectant, artificial grin was rather daunting to say the very least.


    "Let''s talk business, shall we?"


    "Yes, of course!" Squaring his shoulders, Alfred made his way beside the cedar waiting table. He sat himself into one of the nearby chairs and motioned for Kazuma to take the seat opposite him.


    Settling into the creaky chair facing Alfred, Kazuma rolled back his shoulders and rested one leg on his knee before rummaging through his vest pocket.


    "My apologies, but would it be quite alright if I-?¡±


    Leaning forward, Alfred waved his hand understandingly as he eyed the ash tray and metal cigarette case being pulled from Kazuma''s pocket.


    "Oh, by all means, go ahead, please." He laughed while shaking his head, one hand quickly running through his golden locks. "Yeah, you''ll need more than one when you''re done with her."


    Setting the tray in front of him, Kazuma pulled one thin cigarette from the container and lit it with a lighter from his pant pocket. Placing it between his lips and shifting his head to the side as a stream of smoke passed through his nose, Kazuma waited for Alfred to continue. He didn''t need any names to know whom he was referring to.


    Alfred sat in silence for a few seconds, grasping for the best words to describe the situation at hand.


    "I''m...sorry about my niece." He figured an apology for her rude behavior would be a decent start. "She''s usually more agreeable." A pause was followed with a shaky shrug of his shoulders. "Well, not by much, but-"


    Kazuma remained silent while taking another draw. He was admittedly growing quite amused at how nervous Alfred was becoming, his speech turning faster and more jumbled with every syllable that passed through his lips.


    "No need for apologies, Mister Hampton." Alfred''s head shot up as Kazuma continued. "I can imagine that her life has changed quite a bit ever since she moved here with you and your wife."


    He pointed towards the metal container and lighter now placed atop the table, welcoming Alfred to take one cigarette for himself.


    While he hadn''t particularly received the best impression of Alfred, he figured the least he could do was help the man alleviate some of the stress that was undoubtedly caused by their meeting.


    "Fiance, actually. And call me Alfred, nobody calls me Mister Hampton."


    Kazuma''s eyebrows raised as he watched Alfred carefully light himself a cigarette. A low hum could be heard rumbling from his chest.


    "A fiance." Kazuma repeated to himself. "Well Alfred, I always give credit where credit is due." He banged his knuckles on the table, a wry grin stretching from ear to ear. "You certainly picked yourself quite a lovely woman. I can imagine she and Miss Lucy get along quite well."


    Alfred had to hold back a burst of laughter after hearing Kazuma refer to his niece as "Miss Lucy."


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    By no means was he an expert in the subject, but usually a "miss" was a young lady with manners and a reserved personality¨Cneither of which his niece possessed.


    His fiance, on the other hand¨C


    "Yuko is the love of my life."


    Kazuma was taken aback at the genuity now present in Alfred''s voice, an unanticipated change from the roistering tone that Kazuma had quickly grown accustomed to.


    Alfred continued, disregarding the lit cigarette fizzling away between his fingers. "We met each other in Chicago. She was staying with some family who laid down roots there, but when word came around to her dad over here that some low-brow construction worker was pining after his daughter, I bet you can imagine his reaction. And not to mention how different we are, our backgrounds, money, everything."


    Kazuma nodded without a word as Alfred waved his free hand around the ornate room, taking a puff from the cigarette.


    Nodding his head once more, Kazuma broke his silence. "Yes, I definitely can imagine the adversity the two of you have had to face." He felt his shoulders tense involuntarily. "The modern world is rather unforgiving to those who deem it archaic."


    "Yeah, you can say that again." Alfred took another drag and snubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, unaware of Kazuma drumming his fingers against the side of his armrest.


    Two puffs and he was tapping it out? Alfred was either a floaty or simply had no idea how much those cigarettes went for.


    For perhaps the hundredth time that day, Kazuma''s brow twitched in annoyance. He made a mental note to never offer Alfred another in the future.


    "Well, forgive me but back to the subject at hand, I came today because Mieko told me about your financial situation."


    "Ah, of course." Alfred scratched the back of his neck as his nerves overcame him once more.


    Kazuma clicked his tongue. "More specifically, how you are considering starting a business of your own to support your family."


    Alfred nodded. "Yes, that''s right. Yuko and I have some savings, mainly my inheritance from my late father. But that''s been dwindling ever since we''ve arrived."


    "Why go about struggling to start a business when native English instructors are always in demand?" Tapping out his own cigarette butt, Kazuma crooked his head to the side as Alfred explained himself.


    "I...don''t really think me or Lucy are cut out to be educators, Mister Kamoi."


    "Oh?" Lacing his fingers and resting his elbows on the table, Kazuma leaned forward. ¡°Pray tell the reason.¡±


    "For starters, neither of us went to college. Neither of us even went on to higher schooling. I stopped going to school at twelve and I think she might have stopped even younger, maybe around ten."


    "I see." Kazuma was not prepared for such a reply. Truth be told, Kazuma didn''t know how to respond. He wasn''t sure himself what kind of answer he was expecting from Alfred, but it hadn''t been that.


    Alfred nodded. "I mean, we can talk no problem but we''re not exactly scholars on grammar and stuff like that."


    Alfred, Kazuma could see not being a star pupil. But Lucy appeared to have a good head on her shoulders. One that shouldn''t be wasted due to lack of opportunity.


    He bit the inside of his bottom lip. Before any givings of pity could barge in and cloud his better judgement, Kazuma returned to the matter on the table.


    "I''m going to be completely honest with you, Alfred." Light tapping could be heard from beneath Kazuma''s chair. Alfred directed his attention away from Kazuma''s face and to the table above the sound as Kazuma huffed out a sigh. "Starting a business¨CIt''s not necessarily a walk in the park for locals and it¡¯s certainly not easy for a foreigner. Some may say it¡¯s still uncharted territory."


    Kazuma absentmindedly traced a line with his index finger on the wooden surface, hardened gaze never leaving Alfred¡¯s face.


    "Of course, there are a handful of large foreign-owned businesses that have offices here, and there are some smaller ventures, but you should understand that both of those are still few and far between."


    "Few and far between'''' was a generous way of putting it. Even with the opening of the country, even with rather progressive fiscal policies put in place within the last century, it didn''t take a degree in economics to conclude that foreign-run businesses were still uphill battles.


    Uphill battles which Kazuma wasn¡¯t so sure he was willing to partake in.


    Kazuma shook his head as a familiar wave of unease began to reclaim its home within his stomach.


    "Do you have any propositions as to what kind of venture you would like to pursue?"


    The vacant look glazing across Alfred''s green eyes was not the answer Kazuma was hoping for. They sat in silence before a puff of air exhaled through Kazuma''s nose.


    "I have a favorite phrase that I believe you Americans created. I learned it while I was in New York."


    Alfred gulped down the feelings of nausea clawing up his throat.


    So that''s where Kazuma was¨CNew York. No wonder his English sounded so...imposing.


    "Time is money."


    The tapping of Kazuma''s foot boomed throughout the compact study. Every beat served as a new rush of anxiety, vibrating from Alfred''s stiffened spine and branching out all the way to his quivering fingertips.


    Kazuma searched Alfred''s face for any semblance of comprehension regarding the meaning behind his words.


    None whatsoever.


    He was quickly approaching the point where he would have preferred engaging in ten business transactions with Mieko''s father rather than spending one more moment of his time with the man frozen in the chair opposite him.


    Kazua felt the fine hairs above his upper lip twitch in aggravation as the beginnings of a grimace overpowered his usual cordial grin.


    ¡°My time is money, and I don¡¯t want you wasting it.¡±

 26: Ball Game

    ¡°My time is money, and I don¡¯t want you wasting it.¡±


    More silence. Another moment passed.


    Just as Kazuma had lost all resolve, he began to stand from his chair. No matter how important of an outlet this bunch was to Mieko, no matter how entertaining and humorous the Lucy girl was, he couldn''t bring himself to willingly throw hard-earned money into a blackhole with no guarantee of returns.


    "My brother used to say the same thing."


    Eyes on the floor and back half-bent, Kazuma froze. He blinked before craning his head upwards to stare at Alfred once more. There was a spark of determination firing up from behind his glasses, a welcomed change from his previously dull gaze.


    Kazuma remained frozen in place. "Did he say ''time is money'' or did he say you were wasting his time? Or both?"


    Kazuma hesitantly returned to his chair while Alfred released a loud laugh.


    Alfred was fully aware that now was most definitely not an appropriate time to be laughing in Mister Kamoi''s face, but for the life of him, he couldn''t stop himself.


    "I mean no disrespect, sir¨C"


    "Really now."


    This had to have been one of the most bizarre "meetings" Kazuma had ever been a part of. He had seen a man''s coat set on fire from a renegade cigar, he had even seen a performer fall flat on her done-up face after trying to stand up after a koto performance and song.


    What he hadn''t experienced up until now, however, was an American on the brink of poverty with the nerve to laugh in his face.


    "Do you gamble?"


    Kazuma''s head was still spinning from the absurdity of the situation presented before him, unable to immediately digest Alfred''s next round of random babbling.


    "I beg your pardon?"


    "You did sound exactly like my brother just now. That''s why I laughed, first of all." Alfred was now leaning back in his chair, limbs turning into jelly. His previous nerves had melted away to reveal a self-assured smile settling across his face.


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    The manner in which Kazuma was staring him down, pupils blown wide, the lines in his face growing taught, all warned Alfred that time was running out.


    He needed a plan of action, and fast.


    "Second of all, it was a simple question. Do you gamble."


    Kazuma jolted in surprise as another spark of laughter filled the room.


    What surprised him even more was that this time, it had come from him.


    Alfred rolled his eyes. "Come on, you were in New York, weren''t you¨C"


    "Yes, I do gamble."


    At this point in their back-and-forth, Kazuma began to feel the onset of exhaustion pecking away at his mind and body. He forced himself back into his chair, elbows aching as they pressed into the table.


    Where was Alfred running with this charade?


    "You gamble, you invest, I take it you''re a man of risk."


    "Some would say so, yes."


    "I also take it you''d stick around if we made this whole ball game more interesting." Alfred was now sitting with one hand on his knee, eyes alight and grin creasing his cheeks. Taking a breath and holding onto a hope and a prayer, he continued. "If you decide to stick around, put money into our family, advise me on how to work with said money¨C"


    ¡¸Wait, wait, wait¨C¡¹ Kazuma cursed silently as he found himself sputtering at Alfred''s ludicrous request.


    Alfred smirked while Kazuma attempted to piece together some sort of reply.


    The beginnings of a lump began to form in his throat, driving down any possible wisecracks looking to jump from his mouth.


    After a few seconds of shaking his head, he gulped away his doubts and decided that Alfred had had his fun.


    Now was the time to regain the upper hand.


    "You expect me to just give you money?" Kazuma''s eyes darted from his lap up to meet Alfred''s face once more, a foolish face that was still smoldering with determination despite the senseless request it had the gall to make mere seconds before.


    Stick around, put money into our family¡­


    "Just¨C" Kazuma threw his hands up, following a sloppy pattern of vague hand gestures.


    He found himself repeating the sentence over and over in his head, holding onto some inane hope that reason would follow repetition. "Give you money with no promise of return? No fallback?"


    "Well, I never said there would be no return, you didn''t let me finish." Alfred chose his next words carefully.


    Mister Kamoi was intrigued, no amount of feigned offense could tell Alfred otherwise. The nausea that had made its home in Alfred''s throat during Kazuma''s lecture was making its rounds again, only this time it was welcomed.


    This time it pushed his words out instead of down.


    "Just maybe not a return you''re used to ¨C unconventional, if you will."


    Kazuma tilted his head to the side, a subtle, nearly mechanical movement as he pondered Alfred''s cryptic suggestion. "Go on."

 27: An Experiment

    They were greeted with silence.


    ¡®Unexpected¡¯ was perhaps the first word that popped into all three women¡¯s minds as the two men slinked out from the study in a silent fog.


    As Alfred nudged the door closed with his heel, Kazuma could be heard making his rounds to the sofa, eventually resting his palm on Mieko¡¯s shoulder.


    She turned her head, owlish eyes glowing with intrigue and expectation.


    ¡¸How was-?¡¹


    Kazuma couldn¡¯t help but break from his poker face as her smaller hand reached to meet his fingers.


    ¡¸I should say it was quite the success.¡¹


    Mieko was alight with joy, tossing her head this way and that between Kazuma and the two women sitting on the sofa. She knew that face¨Cit was the face he always made when something went his way. Of course, there were times when that face would be unwelcome as she cursed his never-ending record of besting her in many of the childish games he entertained her with years ago, but in times like this, when he was in his element as a man of business, she could never be prouder.


    Alfred stepped to the front of the sofa, arms outstretched and a wide smile on his reddened face. He felt joy flooding his body in waves as he met eyes with Yuko.


    "He nearly gave me a heart attack, but we got a deal!" Alfred laughed while bringing a finger up to point at Kazuma. With that comment, both men felt compelled to gage Lucy for some sort of witty crack.


    She was silent.


    "Well." Kazuma gave Mieko''s shoulder a quick squeeze before exchanging glances between Alfred and Yuko. "Alfred, I''m of the mindset that it would be best for you to update your family privately. I''ll break the news to Mieko."


    "Let''s go into the kitchen." As Alfred motioned for Yuko and Lucy to follow, Kazuma was quick to catch Lucy stealing a glance at Mieko, before eventually locking eyes with him.


    He was surprised to be met with a look of pleading rather than one of anger.


    Now, why was she making that face? If he hadn''t known better, he would have almost expected her to be on her knees begging for something, for what he hadn''t the slightest clue.


    Why Mieko willingly chose to befriend such a volatile young lady was beyond him.


    "Fine." Lucy¡¯s voice resembled that of a spluttering radio as she lurched to her feet. She avoided sharing any eye contact or words with her uncle, making it near impossible for any celebratory spirit to filter through the room.


    At that moment Kazuma was quite thankful for his well-trained nerves. The last thing he wanted was for anyone, be it Lucy, Alfred, or Yuko, to take note of the light tremble twitching through his hand all because of some girl constantly throwing him through loop after unanticipated loop.


    As Alfred led the two women back into the hallway, Kazuma was again met with Mieko''s burning brown eyes. Only this time they were aglow with mischief instead of sheer anticipation.


    ¡¸Kazu.¡¹ She puffed her cheeks as she sang his name. ¡¸Why is your hand still shaking?¡¹


    ¡¸It''s not shaking.¡¹ His voice came out as a mumble, a stark contrast from his usual groomed speech. Mieko giggled as he hastily tore his hand away from her light grip, and she allowed herself a few seconds to savor the rare flush that had wiggled up his cheeks before pressing him further.


    ¡¸Well in any case, tell me about what went on in there, what happened? What did Al say? What did you say? Did you-¡¹


    Before any more offhand questions could spill from her mouth, the hand that was previously shaking was now resting in front of Mieko''s beaming face. Kazuma then settled another hand on the top of her head.


    ¡¸Allow me a moment to breathe, Micchan, please.¡¹ His fatigue was apparent as his footsteps grew heavier, leading him to plop down beside Mieko on the sofa. She couldn''t help but roll her eyes as he threw his head back with a hand running through his hair. The stubborn darkness under his eyes was more pronounced than it had been that morning.


    She expected him to drop the ¡°Mister Charisma¡± act as soon as they had a moment alone, but did one conversation with Al really do that much of a number on him?


    ¡¸Forgive me if I''m wrong.¡¹ It was his turn to roll his eyes at that mockingly sweet tone, one that Mieko only used when she decided to torture him with some ludicrous accusation. ¡¸But something tells me your tired eyes and dragging feet aren''t just because of Alfred.¡¹


    ¡¸Of course not, you''re giving him too much credit.¡¹ His chest fluttered up and down as he blew an unruly hair from his face. ¡¸They also have a hell of a lot to do with your little friend and her mood swings.¡¹


    Mieko had absolutely no choice but to raise a brow at that comment.


    Mood swings?


    ¡¸It''s called being human, Kazuma.¡¹ She sighed, making a show of plucking a cigarette he had pulled from his pocket right out from under his nose.


    ¡¸And anyway, perhaps showing more than just one face to the world is a healthy way to cope with stress. Better than these death sticks, you know.¡¹ Twirling the captured cigarette between two nimble fingers, she gently began to press into its center until a slight bend jutted its way through the wrapper.


    ¡¸Maybe take a page or two from her book.¡¹


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    Mieko grinned as Kazuma guffawed at her advice. He held out his hand expecting the safe return of his now-damaged cigarette.


    ¡¸I''ll do no such thing, and you''ll return that to me immediately.¡¹


    He was compelled to curse under his breath as Mieko started inching away from him, the "death stick" now above her head and out of his reach.


    ¡¸Go on and tell me what happened, then maybe I''ll ponder allowing you to slowly kill yourself.¡¹


    ¡¸There''s no proof those can kill you.¡¹


    ¡¸You need proof that smoke in your lungs can kill you? To think I had a crush on you as a kid! How embarrassing. Wait a minute-¡¹ The muscles in her already-frozen body clenched painfully, her raised arm slowly plummeting back to meet the sofa cushion beside her and Kazuma. ¡¸Before anything else, you''re going to tell me, exactly what were you thinking? Treating Lu-chan like that, calling out to her on the street! How would you feel if some strange man did that to me, huh!? You...you moron!¡¹


    Kazuma''s eyes flinched closed as he felt Mieko''s free hand beat down onto the sofa cushion before giving his shoulder a shove, one that far-exceeded her perceived strength. He decided to use her misguided rage as an opportunity to snatch his (hopefully) salvageable cigarette from her weakened grip.


    ¡¸After seeing this place, now I''m certain I was doing her a favor, Micchan, I''m surprised you don''t agree!¡¹ Now waving his hands in the air around them, he carried on in a hushed tone.


    ¡¸This.¡¹ Mieko followed suit, sprawling her thin arms above her head. ¡¸Is exactly why I asked for your help! And I wanted you to help in a proper way, not through some questionable scheme you concocted on the spot at a bar with your friends!¡¹


    ¡¸That¡¯s what I¡¯m doing now is it not? And if you''d just sit and listen instead of dwelling on the past and stealing from me, perhaps your sour mood would turn for the better.¡¹


    ¡¸Fine, before I slap you again.¡¹ Pawing at the sides of her kimono, Mieko¡¯s riled up nerves settled back into her skin.


    Truly, she loved Kazuma to no end, but there were times when he tested her patience until her brain threatened to snap into a million pieces.


    ¡¸First off, I think you should know.¡¹ The sides of his mouth quirked up into a smile like that of a cat who had just discovered a mouse. ¡¸Mister Hampton and Miss Yuko are engaged as you said, not yet married.¡¹


    His smile grew wider as Mieko''s face lit up yet again, an adorable childlike glint shimmering across her eyes.


    ¡¸Oh wait, really!? So that means-!¡¹


    ¡¸It means a lot of things, actually.¡¹ Kazuma decided it best to cut her off right there, lest she go on some girlish tangent about "forbidden love" or "premarital cohabitation."


    He leaned back into the sofa once again, his left knee lightly bobbing his foot up and down on the floor below.


    ¡¸For one thing, it means that Mister Hampton and Miss Lucy are more than likely here as travelers. Obviously, someone here on ''vacation'' can''t open a business.¡¹


    He rolled his head over to meet Mieko''s quizzical gaze, the slight glimmer in her eyes now dim and muddled.


    ¡¸Which.¡¹ Mieko''s eyes followed Kazuma''s index finger as it flew above his head, pointing up towards the ceiling. ¡¸Leads into my next point. Mister Hampton and Miss Yuko need to get married, as soon as possible no less, for Mister Hampton''s life here to even have a sliver of a chance at success.¡¹


    Mieko bounced her eyes back towards Kazuma''s face, which for some reason unbeknownst to her was exceedingly calm. She blinked twice while swerving her head to the side, shoulders hunched and hands grabbing at her knees.


    ¡¸Okay, so-?¡¹


    ¡¸So, they need to tie that knot sooner rather than later, simple as that.¡¹ Kazuma finished off with a snap of his fingers. He rolled his ankle mindlessly through the air as Mieko drank in the wave of new information suddenly at her fingertips.


    ¡¸But wait.¡¹ Kazuma felt the sofa become lighter as Mieko sprung from her seat, a tiny hand cradling her chin as she stared back down at him. ¡¸Couldn''t you just put their business under your name? Are there rules about that? And where does this leave Lucy?¡¹


    ¡¸Oh-ho, Mieko.¡¹ The firm hand that originally had been entangled in Kazuma''s dark hair shot back up to massage the inner corners of his eyes. ¡¸Rule or no rule, I know I promised you the world when you were a child, but that world I spoke of was never meant to include me deliberately putting me in the line of financial fire.¡¹


    Now he couldn''t help but roll his eyes at Mieko''s ridiculous suggestion.


    Him? Signing his name to this wobbly experiment?


    ¡¸And regarding your friend, she is in a tight spot, no doubt about it.¡¹ He brought a thumb to his chin as Mieko bit the inside of her cheek, a coping habit often employed whenever she was faced with an unsettling situation.


    ¡¸Don''t worry, my dear, we''ll surely figure something out for her!¡¹ It was his turn to take a stand now, ruffling Mieko''s black hair as he strode over to the window in front of the sofa.


    ¡¸The poor girl.¡¹ He tisked, one hand finding his way to settle in his pant pocket while the other tugged at his tie.


    He swiveled on his heel back towards Mieko, his relaxed grin playing into a coy smirk as he raised a brow at her. ¡¸Perhaps I should set aside my personal views on the matter and lend her a hand? One of the marriage variety?¡¹


    His smirk grew as Mieko darted towards him, a fist making contact with his lower stomach.


    ¡¸Strictly political, of course!¡¹ He couldn''t stop the light chuckles escaping him as Mieko tried to inflict some kind of damage to him, her feather light punches resembling more of a tickle than any kind of pain.


    ¡¸You had better watch yourself, I haven''t even heard the end result and I''m already at my wits end with you!¡¹


    Hands now resting on Mieko''s shoulders in an attempt to somewhat ease her little fit of fury, he released one last chuckle before finally revealing what had come from him and Mister Hampton''s meeting.


    ¡¸Well, what we agreed upon was...not particularly what I had expected when coming here.¡¹ His eyes darted towards the sunny neighborhood scenery on the opposite side of the window. ¡¸He asked me if I wanted to use his situation as an experiment.¡¹


    ¡¸An experiment?¡¹ Mieko shook her head, eyes closed as she wracked her mind for some sort of explanation Kazuma could possibly throw her way. ¡¸What kind of experiment?¡¹

 28: Thirty Percent

    ¡¸An experiment?¡¹ Mieko shook her head, eyes closed as she wracked her mind for some sort of explanation Kazuma could possibly throw her way. ¡¸What kind of experiment?¡¹


    Kazuma gently hung his hands behind his back, fingers lacing together as he formulated a simple yet accurate explanation to give Mieko.


    ¡¸I will be giving him a certain amount of money and advice towards whatever business venture he and I will pursue.¡¹


    ¡¸How much money?¡¹


    Kazuma felt the muscles in his back tense as he felt Mieko''s feet tap in place.


    ¡¸A respectable amount which I will not be disclosing, I''m sorry to say.¡¹


    Even though he had become aware of the Hamptons due to Mieko''s sob story, he refused to divulge to her the amount of money he had agreed to give to Mister Hampton. The generous amount Kazuma had offered surprised even himself as the numbers fell from his mouth and onto paper; if it was enough to surprise Kazuma, he knew Mieko''s father would wring his neck should Mieko ever crack and tell him.


    Taking a breath before continuing, Kazuma''s eyes fell to the ground, studying the darkened lines in the tatami flooring.


    ¡¸And in return for the money, combined with my guidance and advice, he is to remunerate me thirty percent of his profits starting on the first day of the second month from when his business opens, or when he finds employment with my help.¡¹


    ¡¸Thirty percent!?¡¹


    Raising his gaze to the ceiling, Kazuma rolled his eyes at Mieko''s shrill cry of disbelief. Truly, for such a somber man her father had raised a drama queen.


    ¡¸Yes, thirty percent. With the amount of risk involved in this investment I should have requested more, really. There¡¯s only so many clients that I¡¯m willing to introduce Alfred to.¡¹ He bobbed his head to the side as he found Mieko right next to him, her mouth bit shut and eyes stormy with anguish.


    ¡¸Kazuma, he has a family to feed!¡¹


    ¡¸All the more reason he was wise in accepting my offer.¡¹ A shrug of his shoulders accompanied his collected defense. ¡¸A sliver of a chance at survival is better than none, wouldn''t you say?¡¹


    Mieko couldn''t believe what she was hearing. She peered out the window, trying to collect her own thoughts while a tiny bird flew past her line of sight and onto the branch of a nearby tree.


    With every second of feeling Kazuma''s steely gaze, she quickly found herself wishing to grow some wings of her own.


    Her voice came as a shallow murmur, practically inaudible to Kazuma''s ears only inches away. ¡¸But how is this an experiment?¡¹


    He had to admit to himself, the tiny quiver in Mieko''s voice was almost enough to make Kazuma call off the whole ordeal completely. The tears or whimpers of others were never enough to sway him one way or the other, but Mieko had always been the exception.


    But he couldn''t call it off. Quite honestly, he didn''t want to, and he knew that no matter the outcome between him and Mister Hampton, Mieko would never want to either so long as having an outlet to speak English and meeting Lucy and Yuko were in the picture.


    ¡¸Hm.¡¹ Kazuma lightly nudged her fidgeting hand beside him, a faint gesture of comfort she would hopefully accept. ¡¸Have you ever heard of the investor having full control of the business?¡¹


    He held his breath,  surprised to see her jaw slackened and eyes glazed instead of her usual intrigue.


    ¡¸No. Let me guess, you gave him a ''respectable amount'' of money in exchange for total control?¡¹


    Again, Mieko couldn''t believe her ears. Heck, it was her own words that were numbing her!


    A hard slap on her hunched shoulder lured her out of her apathetic daze, her eyes again finding their way up to Kazuma''s beaming face.


    ¡¸You guessed it! I knew there was always a noggin for money underneath that girlish exterior!¡¹


    ¡¸Gee, thanks.¡¹ She shoved her shoulder away from his hand; one that provided her comfort so many times before now felt like an unwelcome patronizing weight. ¡¸I''ll forever hold your words of encouragement close to my heart, Kazuma. I¡¯ll be sure to mention them at your funeral.¡¹


    ¡¸Despite your unfounded worries about tobacco, Micchan, I refuse to kick the bucket until I see the end of this little game.¡¹


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    Something didn''t feel right about this. Mieko should be happy, she was happy originally, that Kazuma and Alfred were able to sign off on a deal they both agreed upon.


    But now being presented with all of the information in private sans any rose-colored hues, she found her initial joy and glee steadily and completely falling towards unease and agitation.


    ¡¸You say you''ll have total control over them, but does Al have any ideas about what he wants to do?¡¹


    An ominous chuckle slithered up Mieko''s spine as Kazuma shook his head.


    ¡¸Me taking control was actually his idea. You see, after one conversation with me, my guess is that he was able to come to his senses.¡¹


    Mieko''s hands began to scratch at her chest.


    ¡¸Come to his senses about what, exactly?¡¹


    A scoff rumbled from his throat.


    ¡¸About needing another man to step in and help his family. One who actually has money and a brain to make more, to be specific.¡¹


    ¡¸Hm.¡¹


    Mieko knew Kazuma was a confident man, but he seemed to be on some kind of pompous, conceit-induced high ¨C something she had never been witness to before.  And now that he was again staring right at her, she wondered, was this how Lucy - and anyone who did business with Kazuma - felt when he came around? Anxious and irked and-


    A little frightened?


    ¡¸Oh, come now." Kazuma groaned as his elbow weaseled its way to jab at her side once more. ¡¸Why the long face, Micchan? You haven''t even heard the best part yet!¡¹


    Oh no.


    ¡¸You mean there''s more?¡¹


    ¡¸Oh-ho, we''ve barely scratched the surface.¡¹


    Oh no.


    ¡¸Thanks to you, Mieko.¡¹ A tiny squeak could be heard from Mieko as Kazuma used two fingers to pinch the tender flesh of her cheek. ¡¸I''ve discovered a venture where I cannot lose. Say Mister Hampton isn¡¯t successful, he still willingly agreed to pay me back three times what I gave him originally. With interest, no less.¡¹


    The slight sting from his fingers numbed the impact of his words.


    Was he going insane?


    ¡¸Kazuma.¡¹ Mieko muffled through a lopsided mouth. ¡¸If he doesn''t have a business or job, that means he has no means of making money.¡¹


    ¡¸Smart girl!¡¹ He allowed himself a laugh as Mieko visibly grew increasingly confused and agitated, his guilty pleasure of teasing her overtaking his better sense to be straightforward rather than cryptic.


    That was the last straw for her. Nobody, especially not him, was going to keep patronizing her with surface-level compliments.


    She staggered backwards as she flung his wrist away, her own hand shooting up to ease the dull ache on her cheek. ¡¸So how do you expect him to pay you back if he has nothing to pay you with, genius!?¡¹


    ¡¸Mieko, it¡¯s me! Surely I can come up with something to keep this bunch afloat! The payback with interest is merely a fallback for a highly unlikely situation.¡¹


    He threw his arms up, leaving Mieko at the window as he spun towards the room''s entrance.


    In a drastic case, money wan''t necessarily the only currency Kazuma was open to accepting. But he decided to keep that bit to himself.


    ¡¸After all, that''s why you called on me and not just any old salaryman, right?¡¹


    His grin was infectious, and he and Mieko both knew it. Hands now clasped at the sides of her waist, Mieko shook her head as a tiny grin of her own snuck its way up from her frown.


    ¡¸Yes...I guess so. Just-¡¹ Her head shot down momentarily, the rush of new information and new emotions still taking their toll on her.


    ¡¸Just try to help them, Kazuma, please. Not run them down, okay?¡¹


    The defeated lilt at the end of Mieko''s plea caused his chest to tighten, rousing a protective instinct that had been latent ever since he had left her years ago.


    Kazuma let out a sigh as he found himself right back at the window with an arm around Mieko''s frame.


    ¡¸I''ll do everything in my power to help them, Mieko.¡¹ She nodded her head as his hand lightly squeezed her upper arm. ¡¸But I need you to understand, too, that this is a very large risk for me.¡¹


    She didn¡¯t say anything, rather, she wasn¡¯t expected to say anything¨Cher steadied breathing and little nod was all Kazuma needed.


    The two of them stood in silence for a moment, their only company the faint reflection beaming from the window in front of them.


    ¡¸Don''t worry. I meant what I said ¨C I''m certain I can drum up something.¡¹ Kazuma searched her face for any sign of reaffirmation from his words.


    A blank face.


    Another shove to her shoulder. ¡¸Come on, Micchan.¡¹


    He knew better than anyone that his confidence could be read as arrogance. And he also knew that he could get ahead of himself more than he cared to admit, "putting the cart before the horse" as some businessmen in America would put it.


    But for whatever reason, this new venture excited him ¨C something that few have managed to achieve. This wasn''t just throwing yen at some already-reputable small business.


    No, this was taking nothing, building from the dirt up and turning nothing into something grand.


    This was new for him. This was a challenge.


    ¡¸Well, I say this whole day calls for a celebration, hm?¡¹


    This was a chance.

 29: Kitchen Gossip

    "You what!?"


    "Thirty percent!?"


    When Alfred had led his family into the kitchen at the other end of their home, the civil discussion he was expecting to be greeted by was instead replaced with expletives and vitriol.


    Gripping the tiled sink beside him, he shook his head in defeat as he drummed up his explanation. "Relax, he''s with Mieko! Don''t you guys trust her? And it''s clear that he knows what he''s doing, based on what he told me he was in New York doing business, for Christ''s sake!"


    "New York City or Sioux Falls, that man had better know what he''s doing! And don''t turn this on us." Lucy''s voice turned from a shushed cry to a stony timbre as she motioned between her and Yuko.


    "She''s right Al, of course we trust Mieko, but this is¨C" Yuko bumped her fingertips across the wooden table settled in the center of the narrow room. "This just doesn''t seem like a sound idea."


    Truth be told, she also wanted nothing more than to dig her nails into her lover''s neck and wring him out to dry, even more so than Lucy could ever dream of. She didn''t trust Mister Kamoi; it didn''t matter how skilled he was at surface-level niceties.


    Yuko had seen it all before, both in Japan and the United States ¨C wealthy men draping sickeningly sweet mannerisms and compliments over their true intentions, flashing around their accomplishments to unsuspecting fools as a means of shallow repute and comfort before turning to strike. Unfortunately for all of them, Alfred seemed to succumb to the role of the fool.


    "I know we need money, Al." She shook her head as she continued, careful not to prick his pride any further than she and Lucy already had. "And I know we were all hoping for this to work out in some form or another but, I''m not sure if this is the best way for us."


    Yuko pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as Lucy huffed away a piece of her own in annoyance.


    "As usual, Yuko is two-hundred percent right, at least when it''s compared to you." Lucy refused to waste her already-waning energy in pointing at her uncle, substituting an index finger to his shoulder for a stabbing glare all over.


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    "I don''t like Kazuma. I¡¯ll say it." She shrugged her shoulders, the thin fabric of her blouse rubbing against Yuko''s silk sleeve. "I was more than open to meeting whoever Mieko¡¯s ''family friend'' was, but now that I know it''s that-" She looked out into the hallway before continuing her rant, eyes fleeting down to the floor below. "That ass-"


    "Hey-"


    "No!" Muscles betraying her previous resolve, her hand flew up in front of her uncle''s chest. "You couldn''t have even asked us before signing our lives away? What kind of man doesn''t even bother to ask his family about something like that before jumping in?"


    Alfred''s grip on the sink grew tighter, his tired eyes fixated on a smudge of dust clinging to the wall as Lucy and Yuko waited for his answer. He hadn''t even finished breaking all of the news to them and they were already diving down his throat! "I wasn''t under the impression that I required your approval, so sorry for trying to better our situation. Unlike someone."


    He knew he had crossed a line, once again bringing up his niece''s confrontation with Kazuma days prior. Alfred didn''t need to look at his niece or his lover to feel the indignation blazing from both of them.


    "What if he asked Yuko to work in some shady girls club? Huh?" Lucy bit back with a force that surprised even herself, but the rage she felt in that moment was immeasurable.


    She cracked, she had had it.


    Who was he to scold her for defending herself, and rightfully so, in that humiliating situation? He was her uncle, he should have taken her side as Kazuma pushed her to her limits yet again in their own home. Instead, her uncle dismissed her just as he always did.


    And it hurt.


    "He didn''t ask Yuko, Lucy, he asked you. And you threw the chance away." Alfred hissed through gritted teeth, careful not to raise his voice lest Kazuma and Mieko hear their arguing. "I don¡¯t want to hear any more of your whining about this. Especially when maybe our situation could have already been avoidable if you had just worked with him sooner."


    Lucy wanted to scream. It was looking impossible to get through to him, but maybe one last crack would somehow break through his thick skull.


    "If I had ''worked with him sooner'', huh." Her voice was thick, an uncomfortable mixture of feigned joviality and mock understanding. She nodded. "Maybe you''re right, Uncle. Maybe by working at a bar as some dodgy waitress, under the thumb of a man I don''t even know mind you, I could have single-handedly provided for three people. Goodness!" Throwing her hands up in front of her chest as she furrowed her brows, Lucy could feel her eyes growing hot and wet.


    "Maybe you do think somewhat highly of me after all."


    And she was gone, out of the kitchen and eventually pattering up the stairs to the second floor.

 30: Him

    Yuko and Alfred were left in silence, their only company now the harsh sunlight beaming through the window above the countertop.


    "My." Yuko shifted on her heels nervously, examining Alfred''s stone-like face for some semblance of emotion. "I never imagined I would be witness to such a lively fight between the two of you, but there''s a hundredth time for everything."


    She was borderline furious with the man before her, but nevertheless her eyes never left his sun streaked face. She studied every crease, every crinkle that she had fallen in love with.


    He was an idiot, but she loved him.


    And she loved him, but she wasn¡¯t blind.


    He needed to give her answers and explanations.


    "What would you have done if Mister Kamoi had asked me instead of Lucy?" Arms now crossed, she let out a small laugh as her shoulder rose and fell, eyes still glued to Alfred.


    She could tell he was getting flustered, his slicked hair turning into a mop as he shook his head.


    "You weren''t out that day, he couldn''t have asked you even if he wanted to."


    "You''re not answering the question."


    Eyebrows raised and a slight smile playing on her lips, Yuko waited. She would wait all day if she had to, or at least until they had to reconvene with Mieko and Mister Kamoi.


    "Okay." Just like his niece moments before, he threw his arms up in front of him, hands then slapping on the front of his trousers as both arms fell in unison. "I guess I would have been angry about some guy putting you in an uncomfortable situation."


    Yuko was thankful that there was no questioning tone at the end of his statement, for had there been any hint of hesitation at all, her hands would have been around his neck.


    "I really hope you would be, especially after how me met in Chicago." Arms tightening across her chest, she allowed herself another brief laugh before continuing. "So why is it so hard for you to understand why she''s upset?"


    "I know what you''re trying to do Yuko. Mister Kamoi isn''t like the guys who held you up in Chicago." Alfred shook his head "He''s clean-cut, he was going to pay Lucy, and she''s still unattached. I have no reason to be mad, but you-" Hand slipping from the cool tile of the sink, Alfred shuffled over to Yuko as he grasped for purchase atop her shoulders. "The reason why I would be angry if he asked you? You''re my girl, Yuko. I''m not gonna share the girl I love."


    "I...I know you love me, Al. And I love you." She fought off the butterflies swirling in her belly as his words of devotion threatened to let him off the hook. "But don''t you also love your niece? Just because she''s unattached doesn''t mean she has to work that kind of job."


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    Alfred didn''t answer immediately. His glasses slid to the tip of his nose as his head lowered in thought.


    Of course he loved Lucy, they were the same flesh and blood! She was just such a pain in the ass to those around her sometimes that he couldn''t help but snap!  She was¨C


    She was actually a lot like him.


    "Of course I love her, she''s just..."


    "A handful."


    "Exactly."


    "Just like you."


    The two of them shared a giggle before they bumped foreheads, their tried-and-true love language for when words weren''t exactly enough.


    Yuko huffed. "Well, I for one, see why Lucy felt the way she did.¡±


    "Lucky for her, she doesn''t have to worry about work now anyway." Alfred''s breathing grew shaky, hot puffs of air flaring across Yuko''s already-heated face. "Everything''s going to be fine now, I promise. That is¨C" A swig of air filled his lungs as he searched his brain for the right words. ¡¸You will marry me?¡¹


    ¡¸Al.¡¹ She nearly snorted at his failed but adorable attempt at romance, and at such an inopportune time no less. ¡¸It''s ''marry with me.''¡¹


    "What!? That''s what I said isn''t it!?"


    There it was. She snorted.


    "No, that''s not what you said. All of those free lessons I''ve been giving you, wasted!" Her hands padded up the white fabric of his shirt, pulling him further down by the collar to give his forehead a flick. "We''ve already agreed to get married, Al! You don''t need to ask me again!"


    She pulled harder on his collar, their noses now touching. "Wait¨C" She blinked once, he blinked twice. "Why are you asking me again? What do you mean?"


    "Mister Kamoi says we need to get married if we want this to work." His sudden blurb was childlike in nature, the situation comparable to when a kid would go clinging to their mother''s skirt for comfort before confessing to a wrongdoing.


    "He...he said that?" Her hands recoiled back to her sides as she took a few steps backwards. "And...you still came to an agreement with him, even though you know I wanted to wait until we were more settled."


    Alfred was silent once more. He didn''t know what to say, rather, what she wanted him to say. Hadn''t she told Lucy earlier to "trust him?" If she was telling Lucy to trust him, she should too!


    "I know we wanted to wait until we had our lives more sorted out and settled, Yuko." He found his hands now gripping the edge of the table. "But instead of waiting until we''re settled, we need to do this in order to be settled." He mindlessly kicked one of the table legs, raising his brows at Yuko. He was expecting some sort of answer, hoping she would be able to see where he was coming from.


    While the love they shared knew no end, the time they had together did.


    Yuko was angry. She should have known that this would be the end-result. Alfred couldn''t stay a traveler forever, nor could she keep avoiding marriage.


    It wasn''t fair to him. It wasn''t fair to her, either.


    She was expecting to stay angry at Alfred for lunging into a deal that required them to marry, but the more reality hit her, the more she knew that it wasn''t completely him that she was upset with.


    She was more upset with her circumstances.


    "I-" One hand shot up to her forehead while another clenched at her side, floundering for some imaginary support. "I just don''t want to deal with him."

 31: No Vegetables Allowed

    She could feel her chest tightening at the mere mention of her father. Ever since she had sent that letter from Chicago to Osaka about her and Alfred, he had practically become a spectre in her life.


    "I know you don''t. But you''re not alone! You were there for me in Chicago, you bet I''m gonna be there for you here." Alfred''s arms circled around her shoulders, trying his best to provide comfort as warm tears soaked his shoulder.


    He hated nothing more than seeing her like this. Ever since they had met each other, it was Yuko giving him advice, acting as a mediary between him and Lucy, helping him piece together a new language, helping him with everything.


    And what had he done? Besides playing the role of a deadweight all while tearing her apart from her closest family, nothing much.


    This was exactly why he had agreed to this deal in the first place ¨C to prove to her and her father that this relationship could work, that he could provide for her.


    His thoughts were racing as he tucked her head under his chin. "Sooner or later, your old man is gonna know he was wrong. He''ll be kicking himself after he sees how much money we''ll be raking in!"


    Relief washed over him once he felt her smile against his neck, a welcome distraction from the tears she left on his shirt.


    "Al, after Mister Kamoi takes his thirty-percent, I don''t think we''ll be anywhere near rich." She knew he was only trying to lift her spirits, but nevertheless, she was compelled to pull him back down from the clouds. "But as long as we can make a life together, it will be more than enough for me."


    She ducked out from underneath his chin, one finger reaching out to poke at his nose while her other hand rested on his chest. "And your eyeglasses are going to fall off your face."


    "Not to worry, I''ll be able to get new ones soon enough with our money!"


    "Did you not listen to a word I said!?"


    "Come on, how expensive can a new pair be, huh?"


    Yuko pushed Alfred''s eyeglasses back up his nose.


    Even in stress-filled times like these, they were able to laugh at stupid little things that many would have taken for granted.


    Stooping down to meet her forehead yet again, Alfred had planned on leaning in until¨C


    "Apologies, is this not a good time?" They both leapt at the sudden voice, Yuko''s head bopping into Alfred''s chin. Kazuma and Mieko, the latter a blushing mess, stood at the entrance to the kitchen as the couple winced in pain.


    "No, no, not a problem at all." Alfred sputtered a reply to Kazuma as he rubbed at his throbbing jaw.


    ¡¸Sorry, we were just...finishing our discussion. Have we kept you waiting?¡¹ Quickly wiping her eyes and rubbing the top of her head, Yuko turned towards the doorway as she made her way to Mieko and Kazuma.


    She glanced between the two of them, wanting nothing more than to joke with Mieko for covering her blushing face.


    ¡¸Oh come on, Micchan, haven''t you ever kissed a boy before? With a cute face like that, you won''t be able to avoid it much longer!¡¹ Leaning forward with both hands on her hips, Yuko was about to tease her some more until Kazuma interrupted.


    ¡¸Anyway.¡¹ As he stepped into the kitchen, Yuko and Alfred could have sworn Kazuma was standing right in front of Mieko on purpose, blocking her from their sight completely.


    "I take it the talk went..." He scanned the room, immediately noticing that something, or rather someone, was missing when they shouldn''t be. "...as expected."


    "Yeah, I guess you could say that." Alfred rounded the kitchen table and placed a hand on Yuko''s shoulder. "But hey, at the end of the day the majority rules, right?"


    "Yes, I suppose so."


    Mieko shimmied away from Kazuma¡¯s shadow, bumping into his arm as she made her way to Alfred and Yuko.


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    ¡¸We were thinking maybe we could all go out to eat somewhere together.¡¹  She tried to make light of the otherwise pressing circumstances, flashing an encouraging smile between the two. ¡¸You know, to celebrate! Right, Kazu?¡¹


    His grin never wavered as Kazuma held back an eye roll at Mieko''s nickname ¨C a nickname he really wished she would reserve for moments strictly between themselves and not in the company of business partners, or anyone for that matter.


    ¡¸Of course. It was my idea to go out and eat, by the way, don''t let Mieko fool you.¡¹ He shot Mieko a wink and laughed.


    ¡¸Fine, fine, it was your idea, but I''m the one who came up with what we should eat! Al, have you eaten yakiniku before?¡¹


    "I...think I have." Fiddling with his eyeglasses as Mieko tapped him on the arm, Alfred glanced over to Yuko. "The grilled chicken, right?"


    "Sometimes it''s chicken," she shrugged. "But yes, grilled meat. Perfect for you."


    He placed a hand over his heart as his eyes darted between the two girls, both of whom were now giggling with no stop in sight.


    "Hey, I know I''m American and I like my meat, but Luce is way worse than I ever was! She''d only eat meat if she could, at least I throw in some vegetables!"


    "Well, this is perfect for her then. I''ll go and call for her." Just as Yuko was about to walk past Mieko and Kazuma, Alfred''s hand gripped around her wrist.


    "No, you''re not." He shook his head, eyes darting from Yuko and over towards Kazuma still standing by the entryway.


    "She can hear us from up there. If she wants to join us, she can come down herself. You don''t need to baby her."


    Yuko felt her cheek twitch as she maintained a smile on her face, her lips remaining shut in spite of the rather strong words she wanted to throw Alfred''s way.


    She wasn''t babying Lucy, if anything she was babying him ¨C entertaining such fragile pettiness, and in front of Mister Kamoi, no less.


    "Okay, fine." Yuko huffed as she wriggled her wrist away. Her eyes remained fixated on his face as she lowered her head, always a slight movement that served as a warning for a private talking-to in the near future.


    ¡¸There''s a restaurant nearby which I usually frequent with friends after work.¡¹ Kazuma felt compelled to speak up after hearing the foreboding tone in Yuko''s voice. After all, he did need Alfred alive for any of his plans to work.


    ¡¸One of them always goes on about how good the place''s yakiniku is, although I''ve never had it.¡¹ He nodded at Alfred before turning towards Mieko. ¡¸We could all try it together! You trust Touma''s opinion, don''t you, Mieko?¡¹


    ¡¸When it comes to anything food-related, definitely.¡¹ She laughed as she walked over to Yuko, circling a wrist around the older woman''s arm. ¡¸Kazuma''s friends always know the good spots for food, but I never get to go with them.¡¹ Mieko whined, shoulders sagging forward as she led her and Yuko out to the hallway.


    ¡¸But not today! This time you have no choice!¡¹ She shot a finger at Kazuma as she passed him, her grip around Yuko''s arm tightening.


    "Is she usually like this when she''s here?" Kazuma whispered to Alfred in passing as they followed the two women out of the kitchen. He had tried to hold back his question throughout the entire afternoon, but after seeing Mieko''s "alter ego" in full swing for the better half of the day, he couldn''t help but ask.


    "Like what?"


    "Very...rambunctious."


    "Oh, well yeah! You''ve known her longer than we have, isn''t she always like this?"


    Kazuma opened his mouth to speak, but for the life of him he couldn''t find the right words to describe Mieko''s situation.


    Not finding the right words was never a problem for him before, but it was becoming a regular occurrence whenever he was speaking with Alfred.


    "Lu-chan! We''re going out for lunch, you should come down and join us, please!" Both men winced at Meko''s sudden hollering up the stairs. Within seconds, her and Yuko were nearly halfway down the hall towards the door as the men trailed behind them.


    "Ah-" Kazuma paused in his tracks, bopping his forehead with the palm of his hand.


    "We were so eager to finish our talk earlier that I forgot the papers on the table. I''ll go retrieve them and meet you all outside."


    "Alright, no problem." Alfred nodded.


    Kazuma nearly jumped out of his socks as a hard slap to the back sent shocks up and down his spine. "Don''t get lost!"


    Turning towards the living area, he grimaced to himself as Alfred laughed down the hall, far too amused by his own joke.


    The "touchiness" of Americans was something Kazuma accepted that he would never become used to ¨C especially from another man. Walking across the living room, past the worn sofa and into the study, he relaxed his muscles as he once again examined the room. He sucked in a breath of musty air, coughing and slapping his chest as a wayward speck of dust snuck down his throat.


    Looking down at the papers strewn about the wooden table, he jerked his head to the side, jaw ticking.


    The hell did I just jump into?

 32: Lucy Dear

    "Lu-chan! We''re going out for lunch, you should come down and join us, please!"


    Her voice was unmistakable¨Cthat was definitely Mieko.


    Lucy sat on the floor of her room, one wrist up to her eyes as she mustered up enough willpower not to cry. What was happening to her? She was never a crier, she was never weak. Not until she had to leave South Dakota for Chicago. Not until everything changed.


    This was how it was supposed to be. By some grace of God.


    She shook her head. The laugh that escaped her was coated with spite, spite for the two men below her and for herself.


    Hot tears flooded from the backs of her eyes and spilled on the tatami mat below.


    "God damn it." She cursed under her breath as her other hand fisted into the front of her head, wispy strands of baby hair threatening to tear right out of her skull.


    She didn''t care that she used "the Lord''s" name in vain, a so-called sin that her mother indoctrinated her into fearing since Lucy had come out of the womb. In fact, she was now welcoming being struck down by some otherworldly force with open arms¨Canything to get out of this tolerable-turned-hellish situation.


    She cursed him again, her nails nearly drawing blood as they dug into her palms.


    Yet here Lucy was, seconds later, still alive and kicking and sitting on the floor in a house with her infuriating uncle an ocean away from everything she knew.


    Her face grew hotter as reality set in, lip trembling and her last smidgen of faith fizzling away.


    "Just one fucking sign."


    She waited for ten seconds, twenty seconds, one minute.


    Still nothing.


    Just her and her room and the thundering voices and footsteps below her. Her back fell to meet the stiff cushion of her futon, arms spread above her head as the sunlight dried her tears.


    How many times had she asked him for guidance? How many times had she asked for anything even slightly signaling to her that what she was led to believe wasn''t some convoluted mythical mess?


    Her father, her brother, her mother and grandfather, took the word of God to their graves.


    They insisted it was true, and for the sake of them, Lucy with all her heart hoped it was too.


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    But what if it wasn¡¯t?


    She shook the thought out of her head. It was true. It had to be, because if it wasn''t, then where did everyone go?


    Where was her family?


    Another wave of anxiety and tears itched to gush from her eyes. Slapping the apples of her cheeks, she sniffed and propelled her back up from the futon just as more tears were about to fall. She blinked her eyes for what seemed to be a hundred times, determined not to let another drop of water escape her.


    She had to get up. Even if she was livid about her uncle and Kazuma''s agreement, even if she was having some investor-induced crisis of faith, Lucy was not going to make Mieko even more uncomfortable than she already had earlier.


    She could survive one meal.


    The voices and footsteps below ceased as the sound of a creaking and slamming door echoed up the stairs. All was silent save for an annoyingly persistent tapping just beneath her room. Her brows furrowed as she stood up. Weren''t they all outside? Who was staying behind?


    She tip-toed to the door and listened closely.


    Why was it silent all of a sudden?


    No matter which way she looked at it, it would definitely be more effective to just run down the stairs and see who was still moseying about, but that would possibly subject her to two scenarios she did not want to take any part in ¨C either being alone with Mister Kamoi or, even worse, with her uncle after their spat.


    But then there was the matter of her rumbling stomach to consider.


    Defeated, she threw her neck back in annoyance, eyes rolling to the back of her head.


    Gulping down the ripples of unease and hunger swimming up from her stomach, Lucy slid open her door.


    Please be Yuko or Mieko, please be Yuko or Mieko.


    She steadily descended the stairs as she mentally recited her plea.


    Eventually turning the corner from the hallway and into the living room, she froze. Her breath hitched as she spotted a black pant leg jutting from the study room entryway. Her eyes followed the silhouette until she was met with a head of sleek black hair.


    It was Mister Kamoi.


    Thankfully he wasn¡¯t facing her direction, and Lucy didn''t know whether to engage him or simply walk out the front door and join Mieko and the others.


    She wanted to go outside, but her curiosity peaked as she heard a sudden rustling of papers.


    What was he doing in there?


    Was he, for whatever reason, reading one of those ancient shelf-warming books?


    Careful not to put her entire weight on each step she took, she silently edged against the wall until she was mere meters away, the only barrier between them being the thin wall dividing the living area and study.


    She couldn''t help herself ¨C she had to sneak a peek at whatever he was doing. Was he forging documents? Was he actually reading one of those books? Hell if she knew, but she wanted answers. Biting her lip and craning her neck closer to the door, she still couldn''t make out his face as he moved from the sitting table towards the bookshelf, one long finger perusing the lines of books with titles Lucy couldn''t yet read.


    She flinched and cowered back behind the wall when a consistent tapping suddenly sounded through the study. She nearly choked on her own spit when she heard him rounding towards the door, a self-satisfied chuckle dropping from his lips.


    ¡¸Didn''t your parents ever tell you eavesdropping was unbecoming? My my.¡¹


    Feeling footstep after footstep as the distance between them closed, Lucy''s fingertips burned and her temper boiled.


    "Forget your uncle, you alone have cut out quite a bit of work for me, Lucy dear."

 33: Beggars

    Lucy.


    He knew her name now, and he knew that irked her to no end.


    It rolled off Kazuma¡¯s tongue beautifully, a new favorite word. A shame it was wasted on such a disagreeable girl.


    On the other side of the wall, Lucy cringed.


    "Lucy dear?" Who the hell is this man?


    If her temper wasn¡¯t burning before it was flaring now.


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that!¡± Blush be damned, she would not back down to him, not now and not ever, she silently protested to herself.


    Kazuma now stood inches away, grin taught and twitching upwards as he eyed a few strands of unruly hair flicking past the door.


    Day two into making this young lady''s acquaintance, and Kazuma was starting to feel like he had known her for a lifetime.


    A long, exhausting lifetime.


    Did she really think she had enough stealth to sneak up on him? Adorable, really. He waited patiently for her to show herself as his fingers lightly traced the wall separating them.


    Lucy dared not move. Sure, he knew she was there now, no getting around that one, but what was she to do? Just...stand and huff and puff in the other room while he knows she¡¯s there? She could just return to her own room, scream into her pillow, and pray that this whole day was just a baloney dream her fried brain concocted while in a half-asleep stupor.


    Or-


    She could rightfully tell this man who wrenched himself into her already chaotic life to go scratch, Takahara associate or not.


    She weighed her options.


    The latter it is. Sorry Mieko.


    Lucy sighed to herself, hands practically shaking off her body as she mustered up the courage to enter that god forsaken study.


    Step.


    She didn¡¯t need to fear him.


    Turn.


    What was he to her?


    Step.


    Just another problem to deal with, that¡¯s what.


    Step step.


    With every step she took his grin spread.


    There was nothing, nothing at all stopping her from simply strolling out the front door to meet Mieko and the others, but she didn¡¯t. She was specifically seeking out him. Kazuma¡¯s satisfaction overtook reason as he absorbed the rare view standing in the doorway. It was flattering in a sense, seeing her before him with her mouth closed and jaw clenched. She truly was a pleasant sight when her mouth was shut, no longer spewing the usual vitriol that stained her otherwise charming image.


    "So." he stood with his weight against the wall, a hand in his suit pocket while his other rested above his head.


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    "Am I that irresistible?" His eyes glimmered down at her while a laugh threatened to pass his lips. He thought better, however, as Lucy stood there with her entire face red from either embarrassment or rage, which he wasn''t entirely sure.


    "Oh, honestly." Rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, she shot him a vexed frown as she crossed her arms above her chest. "You know, you really¨C"


    "I''ve been told I have a knack for drawing people in." Kazuma flung himself upright with a flick of his arm, paying no mind to Lucy''s defense as his voice boomed over hers. He inspected a fleck of dust that had fallen on the front of his vest, finding it to be much more engaging than whatever the girl beside him had to say.


    ¡¸I must say, I was hoping for a more romantic reunion! One with less tension.¡¹


    He flicked the speck away, his gaze returning to rest on Lucy. Every step towards her, she took one step back until she was met with the wooden desk in the back of the room.


    ¡¸But, as I¡¯m sure you know by now.¡¹ He lowered his voice, eyes closing momentarily before sinking into her once more. "Beggars can¡¯t be choosers."


    The words, rather, the swears, that she wanted to toss Kazuma''s way couldn''t find their way up and out of Lucy''s mouth as he towered above her. She was feeling more and more like an insect burning under a magnifying glass as she watched him cock his head to the side.


    She gripped the edge of the desk, wayward splinters threatening to jut up into the pads of her fingers.


    ¡¸Why¡¯d you do it?¡¹


    Kazuma didn¡¯t say anything. He stood there for a few seconds, hands frozen behind his back, searching her for any signs of gratefulness behind that mask of unwarranted anger. He should have been stunned at her lack of gratitude, any self-respecting man would have been, but her shaking voice and wary eyes were an astronomical improvement from her usual aggressive behavior.


    ¡°Be more specific, doll.¡± His grin spread like oil across his face, eyes crinkling as he rested one hand on the desk. ¡°I¡¯m afraid my brain isn¡¯t as spry as yours anymore.¡±


    The uncomfortably-familiar tingle that was spreading across Lucy¡¯s cheeks was all she needed to know she was dangerously close to losing this fight. It was the alleyway all over again¨Cthe way his voice lowered, the way he looked at her, the way he leaned down-


    God, did this man never learn about the concept of personal space?


    She scanned the room, itching to look at anything but him, hell, she would have even appraised the bug-filled light fixture right above them if his head wasn¡¯t blocking it from view.


    ¡°Maybe my uncle was stupid enough to buy your sales pitch." She ignored the heat steaming off her face as she balled her hands into fists against the desk. Rage flowed through her veins, through her brain and through her heart as Lucy tried to steady her quivering voice. ¡°But it¡¯s going to take more than a wad of yen for me to trust you.¡±


    "Oh, really." Upon hearing such a silly threat, Kazuma couldn''t help but jerk his head back in amusement. He had to avert his gaze for a moment before regaining his composure.


    ¡¸Well, for starters, it''s not necessarily a sales pitch, dear.¡¹ He chided as he drummed his fingers, idly inching them closer and closer to Lucy¡¯s balled-up hand. Kazuma continued to stare down at her, savoring the little squirms and ticks Lucy was fruitlessly trying to conceal. ¡¸And my intentions are pure, I assure you.¡¹


    He had to admit, he felt a tad guilty for causing her such obvious distress when all he really wanted to do was tease her. Kazuma decided to indulge her for this one time. He would pretend to care what she thought of him.


    ¡°But in any case, anything you need to feel more at ease, anything at all, I will gladly provide it for you."


    Lucy just shook her head, an irritated laugh tumbling up and out of her throat. ¡°Yeah, as if there¡¯s anything that would suffice.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    Oh, now that got him. He cursed inwardly as she slipped away from him, stumbling over her own legs and feet while making her way towards the door. He felt his jaw tick and eyebrow twitch.


    Just who was this frail?


    He had been more than accustomed to the forward and rude attitudes of American cityfolk, that he expected, but him getting this much lip from a farm girl from South Dawherever the hell these backwater yanks were from - that would never be acceptable.


    ¡¸You know.¡¹ His voice boomed throughout the room once more. She escaped him once. She disrespected him countless times. Neither of which he was going to allow again. ¡¸I try to be agreeable towards you time and time again, but to be honest you¡¯re becoming rather annoying.¡¹

 34: Tension

    ¡¸You know.¡¹ His voice boomed throughout the room once more. She escaped him once. She disrespected him countless times. Neither of which he was going to allow again. ¡¸I try to be agreeable towards you time and time again, but to be honest you¡¯re becoming rather annoying.¡¹


    Lucy turned her head, followed by her body as she saw him stalking towards her, his usual jovial smile nowhere to be seen.


    ¡¸What?¡¹ She silently scolded herself as her spunk and snark cowered into a fearful whimper. Both hands shot up to her chest. Her head and neck rose inch by inch, trying to keep her eyes locked on the man threatening to beeline right through her.


    Her body was shaking like a leaf; with the laughable distance between them, Lucy was certain her nose would brush against his jacket should she lower her head, but she refused to back down. Be it her nose or her head or any part of her body, she wasn¡¯t going to move for him.


    ¡°Usually.¡± Kazuma continued as he jerked his chin down, neck jut back and eyes piercing into the young lady beneath him. ¡°Girls tend to get a pass with me, but you seem to have the potential to really get on my nerves, so I¡¯ll say this now before we have any legitimate workplace scuffles.¡±


    ¡°Wh-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m speaking, dear.¡±


    Two fingers held in a ¡°v¡± shape were then placed above Lucy¡¯s boiling face.


    ¡°You have two choices.¡± Kazuma¡¯s voice changed from mockingly sweet to stern, to which Lucy found slight relief in. At least this voice fit his true intentions. ¡°You can be complicit and be thankful that I¡¯m taking the time, and providing the means, to make sure you have food on your table everyday. Or-¡± He looked away momentarily, shoulders rising and falling nonchalantly. ¡°You can choose to push and struggle against me and my charity at every little chance you get.¡±


    ¡°Your charity?¡± After dirtying her mouth with such a bullshit declaration, she wanted to throw up. Just as she feared Mister Kamoi got the best of her and her nerves, her outrage circled back with a vengeance. ¡°Stop the fancy talk, what are you saying?¡±


    Dropping his fingers into his suit pocket, Kazuma blinked down at her.


    What was he saying? Did this girl have manner and hearing issues?


    He watched her flinch as his neck lowered, breath fanning across her face while he chose his words carefully and precisely.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bite the hand that feeds you.¡±


    The last thing Kazuma had wanted when meeting this girl was to frighten her, but after today perhaps a healthy dose of fear was just what she needed to learn respect.


    Lucy couldn¡¯t speak. She was suffocating without the slightest clue how to respond, and she wasn¡¯t so sure if further inflaming a man with such a fractured sense of pride was the best course of action.


    ¡°Either way¡­¡± Kazuma¡¯s smile returned to his face as he took a step back, allowing the poor girl in front of him a moment to collect herself. Once her shaking ceased and as her hands fell back to her sides, the pretty blush wound about her face faded away much to his dismay. ¡°I¡¯m personally fine with whatever option you choose, dear, I couldn¡¯t give less of a damn.¡±


    He paused, wondering if what he said was really true, perhaps if lying and feigning indifference was another way to sway her outlook on the situation at hand. ¡°However, I can¡¯t say the same for your uncle or Miss Yuko...or Mieko, for that matter.¡±


    Lucy could feel her stomach dropping.


    ¡°Poor Mieko.¡± He sighed as he threw an arm over his forehead, his other free hand theatrically grasping at his heart. ¡°What would she think if she knew that one of her closest friends, one she was trying to help, thought her aid was nothing but troublesome meddling?¡±


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    But you are troublesome meddling. Lucy yelled in her head, but she knew deep down that Mister Kamoi had a point, one which she didn¡¯t want to recognize.


    She bit her lip again. What could she do? Truly, what other options did she have, besides allowing this overly dramatic conman to swoop in and ¡°save the day¡± as a provider? She had nowhere to go, absolutely no money of her own, no real family-


    Mieko and Yuko were the closest thing to family she had, save for her uncle who barely even counted at all. It didn¡¯t matter how infuriating this man was, Lucy would not sacrifice her friendship with Mieko. Frankly she¡¯d rather die and go six feet under than go one day without her.


    Kazuma stiffened as he saw Lucy¡¯s brows knit together, creases beginning to form across her forehead. Her eyes were...becoming watery? And puffy? Gracious, was she about to cry?


    He had never made a girl cry before, at least not directly in front of him.


    He laughed nervously, arm still clinging to his forehead before plopping it down to his side.


    ¡°Lucy-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go along, okay?¡±


    She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, a pang of shame curdling under her skin as she felt a dampness on her wrist.


    Bringing two fingers to her temple, she took a breath before dropping her hand and closing the distance between them once more. His face relaxed slightly, his bravado returning as their eyes met.


    ¡°But tell me, because I''m just dying to know." Lucy wasn''t afraid. She wasn''t a crier and she was not afraid. "Who the hell do you think you are? Threatening me?¡± She hissed her question through bared teeth. Her chest was flush against his suit jacket as her foot pressed on top of his toes.


    His mouth nearly faltered into a frown as he ignored the sharp pain slithering up his foot and the fire brewing in his stomach. She was still trying to get the turn on him? Even after putting her in her place? It was electrifying ¨C so much so that he would humor her again.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m someone who has the ability to make your situation quite dire should you get in my hair.¡± He nicked her chin with a quirk of his index finger, his grin tensing as he heard her breath hitch. He raised a brow, nudging her head up to search her for any kind of reaction. No grimaces, no eye rolls, no furrowed brows - just a lovely, rosy, expressionless face.


    "Don''t worry. I won¡¯t set my expectations particularly high for someone like you." Light puffs of air fluttered onto Kazuma''s hand. She was still breathing, at least.


    Goodness, not a word? With a little intimidation she was easier to manage than he expected. Hopefully it would stay this way. ¡°Watch your manners, sweetheart, and I¡¯ll watch mine.¡± With one last look at her lifeless face, he gave her a wink before abruptly circling past her statue-like form.


    Lucy was dazed. Had she been conscious of what just happened? Her brain certainly did but her body remained frozen in place as if her feet had melted into the ground below her.


    Her eyes scanned the calm scene in front of her¨Ca narrow, aged room now absent of the man who had blocked everything from her view, save for his infuriating face. Lucy never liked the study. If the room had bad energy to her before, Lucy was now more than certain that she would never feel comfortable within its walls. Especially if it was going to be a second home to him and his work.


    Body still cemented in place with no signs of budging, Lucy''s eyes jerked towards the sitting table, its sun-stained surface covered in documents riddled in kanji and English words she didn''t understand.


    Her lips parted as her eyes darted across the sheets strewn about the table. Was all this what Mister Kamoi and her uncle agreed on? Was this the contract?


    Finally achieving the will to move, Lucy spun her head towards the door just as Kazuma stepped into the living room.


    "Hey, wait-"


    ¡¸We''re going for lunch.¡¹ His voice came as a tired and dismissive drawl, rolling his eyes as he struggled to keep his patience. Did she never notice how direct she was when speaking, how she tossed her weight around without a second thought? She was audacity personified, and God help the man who would marry her. ¡¸It would be smart of you to join us. If this is going to be the first time you''ll be draining my pockets I''d prefer it to be on a cheap meal.¡¹


    He flicked his head back towards the study, a hand waving in the air beckoning her to follow him. She took a breath, whipping her head back towards the desk and away from the door. Lucy lowered her eyes, hands clenching at her hips as she focused on the hem of her skirt¨Cif he wanted the papers, he could get them himself. After all, would he really want to be reminded of such a mundane task by "someone like her?" She rubbed a hand on her chin, itching away any inkling of his lingering touch.


    Entitled prick.


    A light tisk could be heard as Kazuma made his way out to the hallway, followed by a hand tapping across the wall to the front door. Kazuma ground his teeth, leaning down to put on his shoes. There were no footsteps coming up behind him, not one patter or peep. He scoffed as he reached for his coat and hat.


    Ungrateful brat.

 35: Fine Print (End of book 1)

    "Al, Kazuma was following you?" Mieko turned her head towards Alfred, one hand shielding her eyes from the beaming sun while another was still wrapped tightly around Yuko''s arm. The two ladies stood on the calm street, almost completely absent of any passersby save for a group of children frolicking about with a ball and stick.  It was a rather slow scene outside the Hampton''s home, especially for such a sunny weekend afternoon.


    "Yeah, but he forgot his papers or something so he went back in to find them." Leaning next to the door with a hand in his trousers, Alfred glanced across the street before resting his eyes on Yuko.


    God, she was beautiful ¨C she was picturesque, her hair shining in the sun, the way the light danced across the creases and seams of her dress, her. She was the closest thing to an angel on earth, and she didn''t even have the slightest clue.


    "Hey, your face is red!" Just as he let out a dreamy sigh, Mieko''s voice pulled him out of his lovesick trance.


    "What?"


    ¡¸Gosh, just a few minutes in the sun and he''s already red! This always happens with Lucy too. He should really get a hat or umbrella or something!¡¹


    She glanced back at Yuko, expecting her to laugh and agree, but she looked as if she hadn''t even heard Mieko at all. Her attention was completely preoccupied with Alfred.


    She appeared to be...a little miffed, and Mieko didn''t have a clue why. But that didn''t matter to Yuko¨Cas she locked her sights on Alfred lounging around the front of their home, she felt her lip twitch and her shoulders strain.


    Had he really just said his, as in Mister Kamoi''s, papers? The same papers responsible for the quality of their lives moving forward? The papers tying their lives to this mystery man by some fraying threads of desperation and shameless urgency? Those papers?


    She had half a mind to tell Alfred to quit gawking at her and go and get the papers himself. Yuko nudged a stone with the tip of her shoe, her tiny frown forced into her usual smile with a light nod of her head.


    ¡¸Mieko, again, thank you for your help. I can''t believe just a few days ago we were so worried about what we were going to do!¡¹ She swung her neck back towards Mieko, offering the younger girl a light squeeze on her hand in thanks.


    Yuko would call what she had said a half-truth. Of course she was thankful for Mieko''s assistance and concern. That was true without a shadow of a doubt. Implying that her worries about the future and their finances were now gone without a trace ¨C that was where the lie was born, and that was where it would continue to fester so long as that blasted contract hung over their heads.


    ¡¸It was no problem at all!¡¹ Mieko found herself matching Yuko''s tiny nods and bows¨Cthe older woman was almost mechanical in how she tossed her head up and down, throwing Mieko back into her mind''s pit of unrest and second-guessing.


    Yuko wasn''t being genuine¨Cshe was withholding something.


    ¡¸No problem at all.¡¹ Her bouncing eyes lingered on Yuko for another moment before her sights settled on the pebbled ground below.


    Had this been a mistake? Did they actually not want to go to lunch? Were they just being polite? Lucy wasn''t even coming at all¨C


    She folded her hands on the front of her kimono, cursing both the sizzling heat and her nerves for the sweat seeping from her palms.


    Forget lunch, did they not want to go through with Kazuma''s deal?


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    ¡¸Sorry for the wait.¡¹ A rather frazzled, gruff voice sounded from the entrance, and as everyone turned their heads towards the door, they were surprised and somewhat perturbed that the voice belonged to Kazuma.


    Mieko jolted a couple of steps forward as Kazuma stumbled over the tiny bump separating the entryway to the patio.


    "Woah woah there, easy." Alfred felt an intense wave of heat emanating off of Kazuma''s form as he caught his arm with his hand. He was going to plant knees and face-first onto the steaming pavement below, and for a moment Alfred thought that might have been a better option¨CKazuma looked livid, and there were no papers to be seen.


    "Hey, you get the¨C"


    ¡¸Kazu, Kazu!¡¹ Just as Kazuma''s bitten tongue was on the cusp of telling Alfred off before he could even finish his questioning, Mieko''s familiar voice grew closer and louder as she tottered up towards the two men.¡¸You okay? I told you years ago those shoes are too big on you, and look! You were this close to¨C"


    ¡¸Mieko.¡¹ Straightening his stance and yanking his now-throbbing arm from Alfred''s death grip, Kazuma hoped that his strained smile and tightened shoulders would be enough for her to lay off the interrogations. ¡¸Allow me the pleasure of collecting myself in peace, hm?¡¹


    ¡¸Well, sorry for caring, Mister Kamoi.¡¹ Mieko huffed as she rolled her eyes. If anything angered him more than her calling him Kazu in public, it was her referring to him as Mister Kamoi.


    Across the street Yuko remained in place with her arms resting above her breast. For whatever reason, Mister Kamoi was shooting daggers at Mieko as he hastily swiped away some imaginary dirt from his coat. With every second spent in this man''s company, Yuko''s suspicions continued to grow.


    ¡¸Mister Kamoi.¡¹ Yuko summoned as much feminine charm as she could for a man she couldn''t stand. With how sweet she had to make her voice sound all afternoon, she wanted to gag.  ¡¸You know the way, isn¡¯t that right?¡¹


    Ever since she greeted him and took his coat upon entering their home, Kazuma knew from her winning smile to her exceptional manners that Alfred''s fiance was a fine woman ¨C a woman for whom most men would kill to have on their arm, and all the more reason why Kazuma was baffled she was with Alfred to begin with.


    ¡¸Of course.¡¹ He gave her a nod as he continued past her, eyes squinting under the shade of his hat while waving for Alfred to join him in front. "Alfred, I think it would be in our best interests to speak a little more in detail about our agreement, yes?"


    Alfred, now standing in between Mieko and Yuko with a heavy arm above his head, couldn''t fathom what more Kazuma could want to talk about regarding their agreement. Was Kazuma expecting him to bounce off some business ideas? That was a fat chance if there ever was one, an hour hadn''t even passed!


    "Sure, sure." Alfred took a breath. There it was again ¨C as soon as Alfred was at Kazuma''s side, his stomach was doing flips, even more so than whenever Yuko shot him "the look."


    Kazuma continued to walk down the street, now committing every tree, every building to memory. He never bothered to take a look back at the tumbledown home or at Yuko and Mieko.


    "You left the papers inside, yeah?" Alfred questioned as he caught up to Kazuma, Mieko and Yuko not far behind. "I¡¯ll go and-"


    "No, there''s no need." Kazuma felt a strain of longing and frustration slither up his spine. He tried to toss away his immoral thoughts of the enraging young woman still in the house, her doe eyes still focused on the contract she was too uneducated to read and her beautiful face hopefully still flush with embarrassment and cautious regard for him alone.


    He restrained himself from gesturing for Alfred to follow him when he sped up once more, for he knew that those footsteps beside him would never leave so long as there was the promise of money.


    To Kazuma, if this lot of misfits could serve as a source of long-term amusement and diversion from the bleak reality of the Takahara''s, of his mother, of his past flings haunting his days and nights, his past and his present, then he was more than happy to throw as much money and time into Mieko¡¯s newest charade as was necessary. "After all, I think we both remember what was agreed upon, don¡¯t we? We can worry about the fine print another day.¡±


    Alfred¡¯s grin faltered, his head swerving behind him to catch one last glance at Yuko¡¯s solemn frown and crossed arms. ¡°Yeah." He chuckled, gripping at his collar as Kazuma¡¯s eyes bore straight ahead. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be forgetting anytime soon.¡±

 36: Chicago

    One month - it had been exactly one month since Alfred had made his move. The tradeoff for wheat fields and tumbleweeds had been for skyscrapers and automobiles. As difficult as it was for him to admit, determining whether the slow journey from Sioux Falls to Chicago was a success was steadily veering towards a grounded ¡°no.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even have to get her dinner, after one beer she was practically beggin¡¯ for it. Talk about a good deal!¡±


    "Two for one and done, hah!"


    Talk of women was rampant on the construction sites Alfred had now called home. With every slam of a hammer or every step around a wayward beam, conversations that would make the devil himself turn even redder beyond his crimson skin were a commonplace occurrence - one which Alfred had not yet become used to.


    He didn''t want to get used to it. Why the stuffy old coots had branded him a "ruffian" on the sleepy streets of Sioux Falls paled in comparison to what these men were bragging about - conquests that would be shameful rather than praiseworthy back home.


    Alfred wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.


    But here''s not home.


    "We gotta get you out with us one of these days, Al!" Mariano, one of the site¡¯s resident loudmouths, slapped a grimy hand against Alfred''s shoulder. "Show ya my side of the windy city."


    "I think you¡¯d have to wheel me to the hospital after a night with you." Alfred chuckled with a forced smile.


    That or I¡¯d be face up six feet under...


    ¡°Aw, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re a floozy! A guy as tall as you, a light weight! I can¡¯t imagine that.¡± Mariano scoffed. ¡°Or maybe you got a secret girl of your own? She get pissed if you ditch her for a night, huh?¡±


    ¡°Leave the guy alone, Mariano.¡± Max groaned with a wooden board digging into his shoulder. ¡°He¡¯ll come if he wants to. He might have better things to do than drink his night away.¡± A fellow ¡°country bumpkin,¡± Max was another regular wherever Alfred was assigned. Although his roots were across the pond somewhere on a farm near Warsaw, Maxwell had quickly grown accustomed to life in Chicago, a strength Alfred admired and wished for himself as well.


    ¡°By the way, hey, Al.¡± Max smirked, sliding half the beam onto Alfred¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I got a new word for you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shit, what the hell are you gonna throw at me now?¡± Alfred rolled his eyes as the midday sun assaulted their faces.


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    Everyday when they worked together, Max always had some sort of English question for Alfred. It had taken Alfred longer than he would have liked to admit to figure out why Maxwell only posed these questions to him and nobody else on the site.


    ¡°Because I know you won¡¯t laugh at me.¡± Max had told Alfred on a particularly late night at work. On a break, Alfred found him grappling with English phrases hastily written on napkins from their lunch. ¡°I can trust you with my questions.¡±


    And the rest was history.


    ¡°My word today is ¡®dox-sand.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Alfred shook his head, straining his back as he and Max tossed the beam over to the discard pile. ¡°Is that a kind of sand you find by the lake?¡±


    ¡°No! No! I said it wrong.¡± Max laughed, dodging an airbound hammer haphazardly tossed from one worker to another. ¡°It¡¯s a type of dog.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Alfred snapped his fingers. ¡°You mean the hot dog! Well, to me, it¡¯s a hot dog, but yeah, they¡¯re called dachshunds. ¡®Sund,¡¯ not ¡®sand.¡¯¡±


    ¡°In Poland, we call them ¡®jamnik.¡¯¡± Max grinned.


    ¡°You named a dog after a vegetable? Yams?¡± Alfred smirked.


    ¡°Huh? What the hell are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°A yam is a vegetable!¡±


    ¡°No, ¡®jamnik¡¯! Jamnik means dox-sand!¡±


    ¡°Christ, it¡¯s Dachsund, not dox-sand.¡±


    Any conversation between Alfred and Max involving a ramshackle English lesson always ended in the same fashion as the last - at a point where their fellow yardmen had no other choice but to wonder whether the two had been pounding the hard stuff before their shift.


    ¡°You know, you could be a teacher, Al.¡± Max laughed. ¡°It¡¯d be better pay than whatever this shit we¡¯re doing gives.¡±


    Alfred rolled his eyes, him and Max kneeling down to get a start on stacking bricks. ¡°I¡¯m not one to brush off a compliment, but you¡¯d be one crazy son of a bitch to trust me with your English!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be a crazy son of a bitch to trust him with anything!¡± Mariano¡¯s voice boomed across the site. ¡°The hell is this paint job, huh?¡± He kicked one of the walls to the new bank building.


    ¡°It¡¯s pushing 90 degrees out, they have us up since 4 AM, and you still wanna lick their boots, huh?¡± Alfred shot back with a smirk, earning a handful of agreeable nods and grunts from other men.


    The camaraderie earned by Alfred¡¯s snide remarks and frequent disrespect never sat well with Mariano.


    ¡°Some of us have nothing else besides this job, farm boy.¡± Mariano kept his voice cool and steady, a middle finger raised high in the air as he turned his back. ¡°Not all of us are lucky enough to get a pile of green after their pops croaks.¡±


    ¡°Ignore him, Al.¡± Max placed a hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder, who, to his surprise, was on the brink of a laughing fit. ¡°Uh¡­you okay?¡±


    ¡°Haha, yeah! Yeah. Eh, he didn¡¯t really say anything that wasn¡¯t true!¡± Alfred ran a hand through his sweaty head of hair, eyes darkening as they never left their focus on Mariano. ¡°He¡¯s right. I am lucky. I should be grateful I made it out here this far.¡±


    Hopefully, his niece would be next.


    ¡°After all, there¡¯s a lot of people who never even make it past the state line.¡±

 37: Uncle Sam

    Four, three, two¡­


    Yuko waited with bated breath until the old grandfather clock finally tolled twelve, a battle cry for victory to the young woman and a grounded, polite ¡°get the hell out¡± for the unbearable man beside her.


    ¡°In any case, I hope your aunt and uncle take me up on my offer, Yuko.¡± Mister Kawai bowed before making his way out of the room.


    ¡°Thank you for your time. Be careful going home.¡± Still comfortably perched on the sofa, Yuko flashed him a stony grin as her eyes followed him out of sight.


    No use in getting up anyway, she¡¯ll be on my case in-


    ¡°He left early.¡± Yuko¡¯s aunt shuffled into the drawing room, her eyes ablaze with suspicion and arms crossed above her bejeweled chest. ¡°Why is your uncle seeing him out so soon?¡±


    ¡°So soon? Auntie, my legs fell asleep he was here so long!¡± Yuko groaned as she inspected her nails. ¡°It¡¯s a miracle my brain didn¡¯t follow suit. All he talked about was himself, one more minute of listening about his diploma-.¡±


    ¡°It will be a miracle if he shows you any interest at all after this stunt! You didn¡¯t even give him the grace of showing him the door, and moreover, look at you -¡± A bony hand motioned towards Yuko. ¡°Hair astray, collar askew, and for goodness sake, close your mouth when you smile, girl!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize samurai were alive and well in Chicago.¡± Yuko reluctantly brought a hand to her lips, allowing herself a sneer hidden under her palm.


    ¡°And that attitude is certainly not doing you any favors either!¡± Her aunt snapped back. ¡°Mister Kawai was the second one this week you sent running. What am I to tell you father the next time I write him?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. Nothing at all!¡± Yuko¡¯s uncle made his way from the hallway and into the fray. ¡°Aren¡¯t you forgetting Kazuhiko explicitly said he had no interest in an American son-in-law?¡±


    Yuko returned her uncle¡¯s smile as he shot her a knowing wink. Even if they weren¡¯t related by blood, her Uncle Ryuji had quickly earned Yuko¡¯s preference over her Aunt Nasuko.


    ¡°Oh, her father says that now, but he¡¯ll sing a different tune once Uncle Sam¡¯s dollars start rolling in!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Yuko was becoming increasingly exhausted with her aunt¡¯s weird English phrases.


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    ¡°It¡¯s nothing, Yu-Chan, I¡¯m just afraid that with no daughter of her own, your auntie is simply living out her maternal flights of fancy through you.¡± Ryuji laughed.


    Nasuko stepped to the window, fiddling with its heavy curtains as her mind wandered.


    ¡°A dashing suitor with wealth to spare - any other woman your age would be thanking me.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear a word I said, did you?¡± Ryuji sighed with a hand to his forehead. After sneaking a glance once more towards Yuko, he was relieved to find his wife¡¯s words lost on the poor girl. ¡°How is it that I know more about what your brother wants than you?¡±


    ¡°Well, Kazuhiko could use a son in law like that! His salary doesn¡¯t match his title ever since the university hired that Irish chemist to teach half his classes! I¡¯m simply doing this to help my family.¡± Nasuko¡¯s longing gaze returned to Yuko. ¡°Yuko, darling, won¡¯t you try to be agreeable with the next one? For me? For your father?¡±


    ¡°Next one?¡± Yuko¡¯s tongue tripped over itself as the words tumbled out of her mouth. ¡°You called on more?¡±


    ¡°Mercy me, no need for a thank you!¡± Nasuko settled herself next to Yuko.


    ¡°Despite what your father is thinking now, I have a hunch of what¡¯s to come in the future, and I am determined to do everything in my power to help that poor man in any way his mediocre pension will fail him. And on top of it all, no wife around to raise his daughter, why, it''s no wonder you haven¡¯t the slightest clue about social graces. And I mean that in the nicest possible way, my dear. I mean no shame at all.¡±


    Behind her vacant smile, Yuko cringed once her aunt¡¯s bony hand traipsed atop her arm.


    Gee, thanks¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re gorgeous, you¡¯re poised, and you''re smart. All three make the perfect woman, but most men will only care about the first, and the first is fleeting.¡± Yuko¡¯s cheeks prickled with a burning blush as her aunt¡¯s hand moved to pat her knee. Every year, Yuko counted the new creases adorning the edges of her eyes, a new vein atop her hand, another failed matchmaking session.


    A tally of time lost.


    ¡°Nasuko-¡± Ryuji feebly raised a hand to reel his wife in, but to no avail.


    ¡°Just please, woman to woman, listen to me, Yuko.¡± Nasuko continued in a hushed tone. ¡°Your father will not be on this earth forever. And you know better than anyone how much this trip of yours cost him. Make it worth his while.¡±


    Despite every fiber of her being urging Yuko to harbor ill will towards her Aunt Nasuko, perhaps the older woman did have a point.


    Am I being selfish?


    Did her father secretly hope she would become engaged? Was the adamant opposition against a ¡°foreign son-in-law¡± a coverup? After three decades of her father putting her needs before his own, Yuko began to think she shouldn¡¯t put it past him.


    With a deep breath and a heavy heart, Yuko nodded resolutely. ¡°I will see another one.¡±


    The words shocked her uncle and overjoyed her aunt.


    ¡°Well, knocking some sense into you was easier than I thought!¡± Nasuko smacked her hands together as her wheels began to turn. ¡°Missus Albert¡¯s son seemed quite intrigued when I mentioned you the other day. And lucky for you, his mother¡¯s family is all in Kyoto! Half your relatives in Chicago and half in Kansai. You get both sides of the coin.¡±


    And then some.


    Nasuko rose from her seat and started for the telephone.

 38: Smoke Veils

    Alfred¡¯s head was pounding. Whether it was the incessant hollering from the men arm wrestling at the table behind him, the clanking of beer mugs, or the insufferable chatter flowing nonstop from Mariano¡¯s over-perfumed flavor of the night, Alfred was too drunk to tell.


    ¡°Yeah, so my sister took all the money when my mom croaked. The bitch is somewhere out West now doing God knows what or who.¡± The woman - Alfred was almost certain she went by Angelina - blew a long stream of smoke from her crimson lips.


    Mariano tightened his hold around her shoulders and raised his brows in feigned interest. ¡°Well, ain¡¯t that something! Hey Al-¡± He shifted his gaze from Angelina¡¯s chest to Alfred across the table. ¡°Angie here says her sister ran off with all her ma¡¯s cash, doesn¡¯t that sound familiar?¡±


    Amidst his swirling senses and all eyes warily falling in his direction, Alfred merely nodded.


    Max, however, had had enough. ¡°Back off, Mariano. Haven¡¯t you been enough of a jackass to us on the site?¡±


    ¡°What? This fucker did the same thing as her sister, just trying to get a conversation going!¡± Mariano laughed and flashed a middle finger across the table.


    Just as Max was considering the idea of throwing a filled glass of vodka in Mariano¡¯s face, Alfred spoke up. ¡°How¡¯d she die?¡±


    ¡°How¡¯d she die?¡± Angelina repeated the question after a long, awkward pause. ¡°Influenza. Why?¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Alfred nodded again, arms crossed and eyes boring into Mariano. ¡°My family died from it too. You and I got lucky, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Hah!¡± Angelina snorted, her head of wild brunette curls falling behind her shoulders. ¡°Oh, I¡¯d love to hear how the fuck I came out a winner from this mess. Go on.¡± She beckoned Alfred for an explanation with a crooked finger. ¡°Enlighten me.¡±


    Alfred took a final swig from his beer mug. ¡°For starters, your sister is still alive for all you know. You still have time to make things right between the two of you.¡± He paused as an uncomfortable silence cloaked the rowdy group in a haze of self-reflection. ¡°I had to bury my dad and brother six feet under before I even had the chance.¡±


    A wave of silence momentarily claimed the table before Mariano let out a yawn.


    ¡°What a fucking buzzkill!¡± He carried on. ¡°We came out to get drunk, Al, not cry about whoever kicked the can before us.¡±


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    ¡°You¡¯ll be next if you keep up the whiskey.¡± Max grumbled behind his hand.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m hoping for, jag-off. That¡¯s what we¡¯re all running towards! Since Al won¡¯t shut up about dying, I guess I¡¯ll throw him a bone and then maybe he¡¯ll fuck off for the night.¡± Mariano bit back. A ripple of anger ebbed across his tanned features before his smirk regained its usual place. ¡°One more drink, one more step closer to a hell more bearable than this one. At least the hell they tell you about in church doesn¡¯t have bills for you to pay, but hey! In that case, maybe our little trust fund farm boy doesn¡¯t have much to worry about, huh?¡±


    ¡°Fuck it, that¡¯s it-¡± Max rose from his seat, fingers curling into fists before Alfred yanked at his sleeve.


    ¡°Leave it, Max. It¡¯s fine.¡± With a smile still sewn across his face, Alfred slipped from the table with a final nod to Angelina and Mariano. ¡°From one person who lost a sibling to another - I gotta tell you, he¡¯ll use you for one night and you¡¯ll never hear from him again. What¡¯s worse, he¡¯ll probably forget to pay. Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you!¡±


    ¡°You thought I was a-!¡± Angelina squawked, her powdered face twisting into a raging sneer.


    So with his back turned and a smattering of coins thrown on the table, Alfred left, the comfort of Mariano''s fallen prospects for an evening "one and done" being the only solace he needed.


    "Al! Wait up!" Just as Alfred bumped past the final gaggle of bumbling drunks and smoke-veiled whores before reaching the door, Max was at his heels.


    "Don''t let them chase you out. Come on, you and I can go to another-"


    "I think I''ll be on my own for the rest of the night." Alfred flashed a grin over his shoulder, hoping a mask of indifference would chase away any worries lingering in his friend¡¯s head. ¡°Go for a walk, blow off some steam.¡±


    ¡°Al-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Max.¡± Alfred bit his lip and continued down the road.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to keep saying everything¡¯s fine!¡± Max yelled, Alfred already halfway to the street corner. His stomach dropped as his friend stopped in his tracks. ¡°We both came here to make a better life, right? ¡®We¡¯re in the same boat?¡¯¡±


    The slight curl of Alfred¡¯s fingers did not slip past Max.


    ¡°We both left behind the last person we love for a chance at something more, something more than-¡± Max paused, kicking a burning cigarette stub in the gutter. ¡°-some shitty life in the sticks on the bottom rung. We wanted to follow our own path, not our fathers-¡¯¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, Max,¡± Alfred shook his head, a bitter laugh dripping off his lips. ¡°But at the end of the day, at the end of every day, no matter how I spin it, I¡¯m no better now than I was back on the farm. I¡¯m still on the same road as my dad, just traded wheat fields and a landowner for skyscrapers and tycoons.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and so am I!¡± Max yelled. ¡°But I¡¯m still here, because I know that whatever could be waiting for me down the road in Chicago is a hell of a lot better than what I left. And I¡¯m not letting the one real friend that I have here run back home because some Italian asshole gets off on making others feel like shit!¡±


    ¡°But what about who you left?¡± Alfred replied back, his stare as cool as the blustery evening wind. ¡°Would they be proud of what you did so far with the money you took?¡±


    Max was silent.


    ¡°I can tell you my niece would spit in my face if she had the chance.¡±

 39: Prodigal Son

    Flashback Chapter


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving me? Again?¡± Lucy paused packing and gripped her late brother¡¯s shirt, her movements mechanical and fluid until her uncle decided to shatter her day with even more grief.


    ¡°Lucy, don¡¯t look at it as me leaving again, it¡¯s-¡± Alfred couldn¡¯t bear to look into Lucy¡¯s pain stricken face. His niece was far too young, far too faithful, to be sorting through her family¡¯s belongings to peddle for extra money. ¡°It¡¯s just another temporary separation.¡±


    ¡°A temporary separation!¡± Her curls bounced about her shoulders as she shook her head. ¡°What, are you taking lessons from the preachers now? They spewed the same shit yesterday, not that you would know.¡±


    Alfred tried his best to ignore her jab at his absence from the funeral, but the irritated ripple traveling across his eyebrow betrayed him. How was he at fault for a late train?


    ¡°Why did you even show up here today, anyway?¡± Lucy¡¯s voice cracked and her hands trembled. She rose from the worn wooden floor, her head down as the first tear of the day fell onto her uncle¡¯s shoe.


    Haven¡¯t you already done enough? She wanted more than anything to scream - scream at her uncle¡¯s audacity to resurface in her home after over a year of no letters, nothing hinting at any progress in Chicago.


    ¡°I can¡¯t just let you stay here with no family.¡± Alfred dug his hands in his pockets. ¡°And thank God I did come back, I¡¯ve heard everything about Mister Strike from the neighbors.¡±


    Their tyrannical landlord was always in the market for a new woman after his last was used up to his liking. Lucy was a challenging line to cross off his list, but as the debt piled with no nouveau riche uncle to be seen, his perverted prospects grew by the day.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare use that to your advantage!¡± Lucy snapped. ¡°It¡¯s none of your business.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re telling me you¡¯d rather go with some backwoods creep who¡¯s over 30 years older than you than come with me!?¡± Alfred bit back.


    Alfred couldn¡¯t stomach the thought of his niece, his brother¡¯s only daughter, plummeting to such a desperate measure instead of going with him.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you that I don¡¯t want to up and leave to some shady city with a traitor!¡± Lucy yelled, throwing her brother¡¯s shirt and raggedy teddy bear to the ground.


    Alfred was speechless.


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    Traitor.


    ¡°So that¡¯s it then?¡± After what passed like hours, finally he was able to stutter out a response. ¡°You¡¯re just going to whore yourself out to some dirty old man to keep this house? That¡¯s the last thing your parents would have wanted for you!¡±


    ¡°Who said I was going to sleep with him!?¡± Lucy cried. ¡°There¡¯s other ways for me to stay here, I can-¡±


    Alfred waited for an answer he knew would never come.


    ¡°Selling off their things isn¡¯t enough to pay for this place, Luce.¡± He shook his head, blinking back his own tears as his eyes flew across the barren parlor. ¡°If you¡¯ve sold off all of what was in here already and there¡¯s still not enough-¡±


    ¡°There would be enough if you had never left us!¡± Lucy yelled again, gripping her uncle¡¯s sleeve just like the little girl he had adored so long ago. ¡°Why!? Was it worth it!? To leave me like this-¡±


    ¡°Lucy-¡± Alfred caught her before her knees hit the floor. ¡°I never wanted it to turn out like this.¡±


    What he said was the truth. He had big plans for his father¡¯s leftover money. He told all of them that he would go to Chicago, make something of himself, something of them. But what did that matter now, especially to Lucy?


    ¡°You know I would have never left if I knew this was going to happen.¡± His breath caught in his throat, and once more he tried to retrieve her senses from the pits of grief. ¡°Please, for you and for your father, come with me to Chicago.¡±


    ¡°You still don¡¯t understand!¡± Lucy continued to weep. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember what Grandpa said?¡±


    ¡°Luce-¡± Alfred let out a long sigh of exasperation.


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know why I asked you that question. You¡¯ve clearly forgotten, but not me.¡± Lucy looked up at her uncle with eyes that would have sent anyone else running for the door. ¡°¡®Even if we don¡¯t own the house in name, we own it in our hearts.¡¯¡±


    She pushed away from her uncle¡¯s embrace. ¡°But I guess it makes sense you can¡¯t understand. You never had a heart in the first place.¡±


    Lucy knew that she had struck a low blow, but what was she to do? In her state of distress any slew of curses could have tumbled from her mouth, and before she said something she would truly regret, she headed for the door.


    Slam.


    Alfred was numb. He had expected Lucy to greet him with a cold shoulder, but her tears and her disappointment were enough to make him join his brother in an early grave.


    ¡°God,¡± He croaked. ¡°What the hell do you want from me?¡± With no answer to be heard, Alfred followed Lucy¡¯s lead and fell to the floor. His nephew¡¯s toys, his brother¡¯s hunting shoes - every splatter of clutter sliced another cut to his heart.


    He picked up the one photo they had all taken together, a memory tucked away in a gilded frame, so distant it could have been mistaken for a fantasy. The young man on the left swaddled a little boy not more than a year old in one arm with another hand resting proudly on a messy-haired, freckle-faced girl¡¯s shoulder. Beside him stood a homely young woman, his wife and childhood sweetheart, followed by his father and-


    Alfred could only look for a second before a nauseous dread swept over him.


    His brother.


    Him.


    Alfred.


    The traitor, the prodigal son that failed to be.


    Alfred¡¯s hands started to shake. His mind wandered to the young girl in the photo, his brother¡¯s only living child, hoping that wherever she ran off to moments ago provided her more comfort than he could ever give.

 40: My Name is Yuko

    Alfred hadn¡¯t even been aware of his direction until the glowing lights of the Municipal Pier glimmered into view.


    ¡°Not this place again.¡± He grumbled with a hand to his forehead. After his two-week stint repairing cracked boards on the outdoor deck in the scorching sun, Alfred had hoped his next visit to the Pier would be with a pretty girl on his arm and more in his pocket than a nickel and some cheap cigarettes.


    His mind wandered back to Max, probably back at home now with his dog and drinking the rest of the night away for a more bearable tomorrow. Alfred couldn¡¯t complain - with how much Max was rumored to pound back, hopefully there would be no recollection of their roadside spat in the morning.


    Alfred knew he was a prick for shrugging off his one true friend, but he figured it wasn¡¯t something a free lunch couldn¡¯t fix. The surprising sight before him on the other hand¡­this was beyond his expertise.


    He was nowhere near sober enough to fathom this - what could have possibly led a doll as stunning as the one hunched over on a bench to be out on her own this late in the evening? The dim lamplight outlined the back of her shoulders, stiff and cloaked in light blue silk. As he stepped closer, her head of pin-straight black hair whipped up from its focus on the ground.


    ¡°Oh- uh-¡± Alfred could only manage a stutter as the woman spun her head behind her. Stunning. He guessed she was from Asia. Pools of dark hair framed a cherubic, tanned face. Her arched lips and apple cheeks were as rosy as could be, the latter most likely an aftereffect of her teary eyes. She was a dream - she had to have been. A drunken figment of his imagination if he ever saw one.


    No woman could have been this beautiful.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Alfred felt like slapping himself silly. How long was he going to just stand there gawking like an idiot while she cried?


    After a few seconds with no reply, he wondered if maybe she wasn¡¯t able to speak English. ¡°Uh¡­are you lost?¡± His embarrassing one-man show of gestures and pointing fingers did nothing to help the young lady. Rather, her eyes simply seemed to tear up even more, their steely focus still occupied with the stranger beside her.


    ¡°No.¡± She muttered in a voice lower than he expected.


    A one-word reply from her painted lips was enough of an invitation for Alfred to plop down next to her. The invitation must have been short-lived, because the moment Alfred stretched his lanky legs out in front of him, the woman inched to the end of the bench.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± She asked with a suspicious glint in her eyes.


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    ¡°A concerned stranger.¡± Alfred gave her a smirk, his head bobbing to the side as if he were about to fall asleep. He tried his best to keep his speech simple to understand, just like how he was with Max when they first met, but with the liquor running through him it was a hard feat. ¡°Are you lost?¡±


    She swiped a tear from her cheek and gave him the coolest eye roll she could muster. ¡°Of course not! Why? I look like I don¡¯t belong here?¡±


    ¡°Woah!¡± Alfred chuckled with his hands in the air. ¡°Don''t jump to conclusions, lady! I¡¯m not the crazy one for wondering why a pretty girl like you is all alone at this time of night!¡±


    She fought off a smile itching to spread across her face, her lips instead pursing into a thin line.


    When she didn¡¯t give him any signs of carrying their conversation further, Alfred took it upon himself. ¡°Just so you know, I¡¯m not gonna leave you out here on your own. So you might as well get comfortable with my company until your boyfriend or husband or whoever comes here and finds you.¡± He hoped his fishing wasn''t as obvious and desperate as it sounded to his ears.


    She lurched her head forward. ¡°What?¡± The way this strange man spoke was nearly impossible for her to fully understand. Why did he merge words together instead of taking the time to say both? Why wouldn¡¯t he just leave her alone?


    Why did he care about her?


    Suddenly her tears returned with a vengeance. Frustration overtook her as she rested her face in her hands. Perhaps it was the rush of emotions and anger from the day finally boiling over, but she wanted to tell someone, anyone who would listen what she was feeling.


    Before she could even begin her tale of woe about her forced meeting with the Albert family¡¯s conceited, prejudiced son, her newest company of the day voiced a question she had not heard in months.


    ¡°What are you thinking?¡±


    The only person who would ask her what she was thinking was her father.


    ¡°I am thinking too many things.¡± She cringed as her English came out as stilted and mechanical as it had when she first came to Chicago, but she sensed that to this stranger, with all his gruff and careless charm, it didn¡¯t matter. And so like a waterfall, a deluge of the day¡¯s trials and tribulations poured from her mouth, only a nameless man being the only person caring to listen.


    ¡°Missionary or not, that Albert guy¡¯s a real jerk!¡± Alfred rubbed at his temple once Yuko¡¯s story was finished. ¡°Who¡¯s he to give you a hard time for being from a different country? You said yourself he was born in England!¡±


    The woman couldn¡¯t hide her blush. After over twenty minutes of speaking to this man, not once did he correct her countless grammar mistakes and ¡°unusual¡± pronunciation like Mrs. Albert¡¯s son had earlier.


    ¡°My aunt doesn¡¯t see that he¡¯s a bad person.¡± She mumbled. ¡°She wants me to apologize to him.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± Alfred scoffed. ¡°He should be the one apologizing to you! If a guy is more interested in making jokes about where you¡¯re from than learning about who you are, he¡¯s not worth your time. And I¡¯m sure your dad would agree with me even if he''s hard on money!¡±


    Alfred mirrored the woman¡¯s slight grin, and he wanted to slap himself silly for not even knowing her name after such an involved conversation. ¡°Before I help you get home, I feel like I should know your name, Miss¡­?


    ¡°Yuko. My name is Yuko.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Alfred.¡±

 41: Crane

    They had started their walk five minutes ago and the only words that passed between Alfred and Yuko were about the blustery night wind and intermittent coughs and sniffs. This would normally be fine and dandy to Alfred - not everyone could be the star conversationalist he prided himself to be. But considering the young lady trotting beside him and her uncanny disposition to divulge her current love life just moments prior, it was only natural in Alfred''s simple terms to pry for more information.


    "Based on what you told me, it should be about a half hour walking back to your family''s place." Alfred kicked up a pebble and watched it tumble down the sidewalk. "I have to say, you''re crazy for walking around here on your own."


    He looked down at her hands, delicate fingers shirking up her skirt to avoid any nosy pigeons or dirty puddles itching to wreak havoc on her shoes. Even Alfred, a man who had worn the same pair of suspenders for the past seven years, could tell that Yuko¡¯s entire outfit was the cream of the crop, probably worth more than all of the rent payments made for the old house in Sioux Falls combined. At the thought he couldn¡¯t stop the sudden snicker of disbelief sliding past his lips.


    ¡°What is funny?¡± Yuko quipped with more bite in her voice than she originally intended.


    ¡°N-nothing! Really, it¡¯s nothing.¡± Alfred stumbled over his words.


    She silently scolded herself for treating Alfred with an attitude, especially after he offered to help her, a complete stranger, find her way back home, but she couldn¡¯t help herself! Once that dreaded Mister Albert finally took his long-awaited leave, it was as if her aunt broke the faucet to Yuko¡¯s already dripping spigot of spite.


    ¡°You don¡¯t wanna go home, huh?¡± Alfred chirped up after passing another block.


    ¡°How do you know?¡± Yuko¡¯s shoulders tensed. Suddenly she felt as if Alfred¡¯s two eyes on her multiplied to a hundred.


    ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t be over the moon to go back either after the fight you told me about with your aunt!¡± Alfred chuckled.


    ¡°Why would I go to the moon?¡±


    ¡°No, not go to the moon! It¡¯s an expression.¡±


    ¡°¡®Over the moon?¡¯ What does it mean?¡±


    ¡°When someone is happy about something, you can say that they¡¯re ¡®over the moon!¡¯¡±


    ¡°And you say I¡¯m not over the moon?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


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    ¡°No.¡± Yuko sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not. But now I want to go to the moon instead! If I can¡¯t go back to my father, I think the moon is better than my aunt.¡±


    ¡°Aw, come on now, don¡¯t say that.¡± Alfred laughed. He hoped he could keep the blush going on her cheeks until they reached their destination. ¡°You know, my dad always told me this - even if you¡¯re far apart, the sun and the moon you look at are the same! So when you¡¯re mad at your aunt or some ass of a guy, all you have to do is look up at the sky and in a second you¡¯ll be home.¡±


    Yuko¡¯s eyes flickered up to inspect Alfred¡¯s face. This was the first time Yuko had seen him without any inkling of a smile. ¡°You sound like you look at the sky a lot.¡± She bit the inside of her mouth. ¡°Who are you missing?¡±


    She wasn¡¯t used to prying into the personal lives of others, much less that of a man she had just met. In fact, any information deemed important for her to know about a man had always been delivered by proxy ever since she started showing signs of maturing.


    ¡°I left a niece back in my hometown, and she¡¯s not too happy about it, let me tell you.¡±


    ¡°Your niece is alone?¡± Yuko asked.


    ¡°Now she is.¡± Alfred led them around a corner. ¡°After I left to make some money here, everyone got real sick except her.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Yuko murmured. ¡°What are you going to do?¡± She could feel a fire igniting under her cheeks again as Alfred lightly nudged her shoulder.


    ¡°That¡¯s the question.¡± He shook his head. He led Yuko across the street and away from a gaggle of drunks, one sharp look their way stopping any lewd comments halfway up their throats. ¡°You see, I actually went back to South Dakota to bring her here, but she wouldn¡¯t come.¡±


    ¡°South Dakota?¡± Yuko tilted her head.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to know, it¡¯s the most boring place on earth. That¡¯s why I left as soon as I had the chance! My niece, Lucy? She loves it there, and she¡¯s afraid to let go of what little is left for her. She might even-¡± Alfred stopped himself. He refused to give his former devil of a landlord any room in his mouth. What Lucy chose to do from here on out was her own grave to dig.


    ¡°She might what?¡± Yuko pushed despite her better judgment.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say.¡± Alfred combed a hand through his hair. ¡°It¡¯s not my story to tell.¡±


    "Why did you leave her?


    "I didn''t leave her."


    "You didn''t?"


    "Well, I don''t think so. I mean, I came back for her and she wouldn''t follow."


    "Do you think she''s okay without you?"


    "I don''t know."


    The sparkling black eyes that had enchanted him just an hour ago lost their seductive allure. Like the flip of a switch, Alfred now wanted nothing more than to be rid of their owner and her questions. No resentment hid behind his sudden urge to be alone. Rather, it was some sort of anxiety, rooting in his heart and showing no signs of leaving Alfred alone until Yuko did first.


    For the next twenty minutes they walked on in silence, not a single soul sharing the road with them save for a pigeon here and there bouncing along the sidewalk.


    Yuko had always been called a crane - beloved, poised, stunning. Now, as her rescuer paid her no mind save for a wave and ¡°be safe,¡± Yuko for the first time in her life was not a crane. She felt as small and insignificant as the pigeons, rising up the stairs to her aunt and uncle¡¯s home - taking flight into the night with new thrills of freedom thumping within her freshly broken heart.

 42: Dreams

    Hoo, hoohoo, hoo.


    ¡°Will you shut up!?¡± Yuko¡¯s slinking frame moaned from her messy bed.


    For the first time in her life, Yuko missed the legion of frogs that had their koi pond home underneath her bedroom window back in Osaka. After nearly losing her mind from three straight hours of the mourning dove¡¯s serenade from his lamppost, Yuko hadn¡¯t enjoyed a wink of sleep since Alfred dropped her off at her relative¡¯s house. They had arrived at half past ten in the evening, and Yuko would be lying to herself if she didn¡¯t admit that Alfred¡¯s rather cool goodbye disappointed her. To add salt to the wound, Yuko was welcomed back with a slap on the cheek from her aunt, drunk with worry.


    ¡°No man will ever want a night walker!¡± The words were replayed in her head like a broken record the rest of the sleepless night, and Yuko was ashamed of herself for wanting nothing more than to return to Alfred¡¯s side - snuggled up together, Alfred¡¯s hand wrapped around her shoulder as he told her everything would be okay.


    Now Yuko laid in her bed, hands squishing her rosy cheeks together in embarrassment as sleep finally floated across her eyes.


    She dreamed of her father, young and healthy with his eyeglasses always sliding off the tip of his nose. He remembered how old she was, her birthday, all of the little things that were worth more than gold to her now. There was no sickness of the mind, slow in its attack but determined to prevail. It crept its way into his lectures at the university. After one too many mixups on student report cards and an hour-long overdue presentation, the board of directors hadn¡¯t much of a choice - Yuko understood that Mister Moore¡¯s job offer was for the sake of the students, but what about her? She was a young lady with parties to attend, dresses to order and men to impress. How could she fulfill her duties as a daughter without her father¡¯s support?


    She dreamed of her past love. As the years passed and Yuko matured in body and spirit, her bitterness for her father¡¯s condition left her in favor of romantic musings. Despite her lack of new shoes and the season¡¯s newest dress, she had caught the attention of Hiro, an accountant¡¯s son soon to follow in his father¡¯s rigid, uniform footsteps.


    Despite Hiro¡¯s ragtag team of childhood friends still clinging to his coattails for support, Professor Hasegawa, with as clear a head as the gods would grant him, gave this upright young man permission to court his daughter. Yuko was convinced she had found love, every brush of Hiro¡¯s hand and glint from his glasses enchanting her away into a faroff sanctuary her problems would never find. And in her current dreams, her sanctuary returned to claim her. Hiro adored her, her father was in good health with a wedding to look forward to, and for a few hours until breakfast, Alfred was forgotten.


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    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    ¡°I gotta get a dog or a bird or something.¡± Alfred rubbed his head, slamming the door to his apartment.


    His empty, dark apartment for one.


    He was convinced that until the day he died he would be kicking himself for pushing Yuko away. Her tiny mouth sinking to a frown was the final glimpse he had of her face before the door shut behind her.


    Was she expecting to keep in touch? Alfred continued his musings well after his shower and nightly smoke, replaying their walk over and over while tossing and turning in a bed too big for one person. Since when had any woman bothered to prod him for anything more than money or sex, or both?


    Your niece is alone? What are you going to do?


    Out of dozens, Yuko was the first woman Alfred met since he moved to show any concern for him beyond a night of emotional and sexual vanity - and Alfred had no means of pursuing her for something more. Even if he had offered to keep in touch, what chance did he have?


    The best he reeled in were types like Mariano¡¯s Angelina back at the bar - Yuko would probably have a stroke simply stepping foot into such a place.


    Her questions probably seemed innocent enough to her, and Alfred hoped Yuko would be able to remain blissfully ignorant to the working class for her own sanity.


    Alfred wouldn¡¯t wish these troubles on his worst enemy.


    Turning over onto his shoulder, he closed his eyes and wished Yuko the best - an easy life with a man with enough to care for her.


    His doze before work was inundated with dreams of Lucy, still grinding her way through some pitiful excuse for a life while her uncle in a faroff city quietly suffered with worry. Did she have enough to eat? Had she kept true to her word and held out on Mister Strike? The thought of that slimy snake laying a hand on her was enough to make Alfred vomit.


    He dreamed of his brother, always the one of reason, always the golden child. He dreamed of the time his father whipped him with a belt for forgetting to lock away the crops after a deer ate the best bushels. His brother had done the same thing once before, and unlike Alfred, got away with a shake of the head and nothing more.


    He dreamed of his life beyond gritty construction sites, of a woman and maybe even a child in a home to call their own. The woman sat on a sofa in a funny looking room with sliding doors and a squishy floor. Her bobbed head of black hair gazed out a window, and Alfred in his dream hoped this woman was Yuko. Another woman entered the room, half of her pale, sunken face hidden under a wavy mess of tawny hair. Before he could reach out to Lucy and touch her to check if she was real, Alfred awoke to face another day.

 A Much-Needed Update

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 43: Accessory

    ¡¸So there really is no leeway for you, huh?¡¹ Yuko sighed, peering up at Hiro¡¯s strained frown. Her fingers traced the petals of a hydrangea. They would always be her favorite flower, she decided ever since her first rainy walk alone with Hiro. ¡¸You¡¯re brilliant, Hiro, there¡¯s no reason for your father to be worried about you finding a job!¡¹


    She added a little giggle for extra flattery. Normally her stomach churned whenever she had to stroke the ego of a man in distress, but Hiro was an exception.


    ¡¸You know it¡¯s not that simple.¡¹ Hiro sighed, his determined eyes always darting straight ahead as they made their way through the dusky streets. ¡¸I¡¯m the only one my father trusts to carry on his business. You know what it¡¯s like, Yuko - being the only hope your family has.¡¹


    ¡¸Oh my, could it be that you¡¯re blackmailing me into marriage?¡¹ Yuko smirked. Hiro¡¯s knowledge of Yuko¡¯s desperate situation regarding marriage was, surprisingly, a point of humor between the two of them rather than resentment.


    ¡¸What!?¡¹ Hiro stuttered with a reddened face. ¡¸To think that you would even consider-¡¹


    ¡¸Oh please, calm yourself before you have an early heart attack.¡¹ Yuko felt his pulse as her hand brushed against his wrist. ¡¸I know you would never.¡¹


    They continued their walk in silence, their only company along the road being another couple every now and then, some with a baby balanced on a mother¡¯s breast or a father¡¯s shoulders.


    Before Hiro had any ideas, Yuko quickly steered the conversation towards his ever-present turmoil, and his favorite topic to complain about.


    ¡¸In other news, any interesting happenings with your friends out at sea?¡¹ Yuko bit her lip as Hiro¡¯s face puckered into a mixture of frustration and disdain. It was so hard for her to hold back her laughter whenever Hiro allowed himself the luxury of a rant about his two closest childhood friends.


    ¡¸It¡¯s a miracle they can outsmart a fish.¡¹ He would always say with a rehearsed scoff, but Yuko could always uncover the loving grin hiding beneath his forced frown.


    Kazu and Touma had been at Hiro¡¯s side ever since the three of them were young boys. Although Yuko wasn¡¯t there herself, Hiro had recounted the story so many times to her that she could practically recite the tale as if it was her own. Years ago, what had started as a day out making the rounds with his father near the Kitamae shipping port turned into a terrifying experience for Hiro, a boy who only knew the polished mannerisms of the the uppity middle class. He was suddenly separated from his father and lost among the gritty seaside streets. Thankfully, two mischievous shanty boys took him by his trembling hands. After an hour or so of ragtag games and many laughs, Hiro was yanked back to his furious father¡¯s side before he could even give his new friends a proper thanks.


    ¡¸No child from this town will ever be your friend.¡¹ His father¡¯s words cut through Hiro like a machete into a fish, and at the tender age of seven, Hiro plainly decided that he and his father were as different as could be.


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    ¡¸One of them is actually doing surprisingly well as an apprentice.¡¹ Hiro¡¯s lip twitched into a grin. ¡¸He had the whole world against him, and now-¡¹


    Yuko stopped in her tracks beside Hiro. She felt the light wind from the east ruffle her hair. ¡¸And now?¡¹


    ¡¸He¡¯s making more than I¡¯ll ever see in a lifetime!¡¹ Hiro shook his head with a groan, but Yuko knew he was more than happy for his friend¡¯s success. Underneath his woolen vest, leather shoes, silver glasses, and all the other pomp and circumstance separating him from the masses, Hiro was nothing short of a bleeding heart.


    ¡¸Money isn¡¯t everything, Hiro.¡¹ Yuko sang, her fingers clutching around his arm just enough for a blush to dust his ears.


    ¡¸Technically speaking it isn¡¯t everything, but it sure as hell supports it-¡¹ Hiro bit his tongue as Yuko gave him an empty, defeated stare. ¡¸Ah, what I meant to say is, aren¡¯t the hydrangeas just lovely!¡¹


    ¡¸Shut up.¡¹ Yuko chuckled and slapped her hand on Hiro¡¯s shoulder. ¡¸You¡¯re happy for him, aren¡¯t you? At least now, you don¡¯t have to worry about what others might think should you see him.¡¹


    The pair stopped at a bench, a shady retreat from the beaming Osaka sun.


    ¡¸It¡¯s better for you now, right?¡¹ Yuko studied her nail beds. ¡¸What I mean to say is, you don''t have to be ashamed of hanging around him anymore.¡¹


    ¡¸I was never ashamed!¡¹ Hiro''s shoulders nearly rose to his ears, and soon enough he resembled more of a startled cat than a man. ¡¸If I was I would have cut those two out of my life years ago, no questions asked!¡¹


    ¡¸I hope you know I''m not trying to fight you about anything.¡¹ Yuko placed a hand on Hiro''s bobbing knee. ¡¸You weren''t ashamed. That''s great! That''s more than most in your position would give.¡¹


    Yuko loved Hiro. Yes, she said to herself over and over, she was in love. Over and over, she said she was complacent in her future to be the woman behind him.


    But secretly, Yuko''s soul was jealous - it was a jealousy that Yuko consciously shoved down inside of her, this envy that Hiro had the freedom to befriend who he wanted, go where he wanted, marry who he wanted despite his parents¡¯ protests. What could they do? After all, Hiro had value, Hiro had their future.


    Hiro was a man, and Yuko his accessory.


    And at the end of the day, so what if he chose a crazy professor''s aging daughter? He would make enough money to where his wife''s value didn''t matter.


    ¡¸You do have a point there.¡¹ Hiro sighed and rubbed at his chin. Yuko¡¯s eyes had become glassy, glazed over in some kind of reverie as her fingers curled around her pearls.


    ¡¸Enough about that. How is your father doing?¡¹


    Oh why must he bring him up?


    Yuko shifted in her seat, dropping her necklace back against her neck.


    ¡¸As good as a man can be when his world comes crashing down and he barely remembers it.¡¹


    ¡¸I¡¯m sorry for bringing him up, my parents were curious after what they heard about Mister Moore taking the position.¡¹ Hiro scratched the back of his head. ¡¸I don¡¯t care - I mean, it¡¯s not that I don¡¯t care I just-¡¹


    ¡¸He¡¯s fine, Hiro, let¡¯s just leave it at that for your parents no matter how far from the truth it is.¡¹


    They endured the silence between them, Yuko¡¯s pretty hands folded in her lap while Hiro desperately searched his pocket for a cigarette that wasn¡¯t there.


    Yuko would wait until Hiro suggested they move on, here, on the bench, with her pretty hands folded while her anguished heart screamed.

 44: Foreigners

    About a week or so had passed since Alfred met the love of his life - at least, that was what his mind was trying to convince him of whenever the thought of Yuko crossed his brain. Max worried Alfred''s strange behavior was his fault at first, leaving his friend to only God knows what kind of devices after their argument outside the bar days prior.


    "You''re in love." Max repeated the words only once - that was more than enough to get his make his stomach churn, and they were on lunch. "Who the hell did you bang that''s got you -you - to being this whipped!?"


    "I am not whipped." Alfred scoffed, wiping his forehead with a rag from his perch on a dirty log.


    "You nearly took me out with a hammer three times this week!"


    The last thing Max wanted to do was take Mariano''s side, but even he had to admit that Alfred was horrible on the site ever since that night.


    "Well, at least now I know your horrible excuse for almost lobbing my head off."


    "Not that it''s anything worth protecting." Alfred punched Max''s shoulder. "When''s the last time you ever use that thing?"


    "Everyday!" Max groaned, swiping a cigarette from Alfred''s fingers. "Do you have any idea the hell I go through trying to translate your bullshit to Polish? That''s the only way I can understand you! And now you''re talking about girls and being in love." Max rubbed at his temples. "You should learn Polish so I can take a break once in a while."


    ¡°Aw, Max, come on that¡¯s not fair!¡± Alfred chuckled, finishing off his own cigarette before another. ¡°I can¡¯t even afford a lunch even with all the hours I work, how am I gonna learn another language? I''m just a guy trying to survive!¡±


    ¡°Aren''t we all." Max muttered. "Stop drinking and smoking, that would be a start. And what''s this girl''s name?¡±


    "Yuko." Alfred let out a heavy sigh, mindlessly setting his cigarette on his pants.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "Aw- no-!" Max shook his head, swiping the cigarette off of Alfred before it burnt a hole to his knee. "''Yuko?'' Seriously?"


    "What about it?" Alfred didn''t intend for his voice to sound as defensive as it did. "Don''t tell me you''re jealous! No need to make fun, you''ll find your soulmate someday!"


    "Says the guy who sleeps through five girls a month." Max rubbed at his eyes. "I am not jealous, I''m worried you''re crazy enough to go steady with someone who you can''t even talk to."


    "I talked to her just fine!"


    "With a name like that?"


    It took Alfred longer that he would have liked to admit to realize what Max was getting at.


    "What? You''re from Poland and you speak English just fine, why wouldn''t she be able to?"


    "It''s just...different." Max rolled his eyes, rising from his seat. "I don''t know, maybe you''ll prove me wrong. Come on, before Mariano comes over to give us shit."


    Alfred took Max''s hand. "I don''t think it''s different. People come from all over the world to America for all sorts of things. She came here for a second chance just like you. Don''t cut people who don''t look like you short."


    The breath caught in Max''s throat. He couldn''t help but laugh at the situation.


    Alfred lecturing him?


    ¡°What the hell¡¯s gotten into you?¡± He put his hands up and laughed. ¡°Look, if you¡¯re fine with it I don¡¯t care. If anything, I¡¯m sorry for her that she¡¯s being eyed up by a lowlife like you!¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Polish bastard!¡± Alfred joined in on Max¡¯s laughter, punching his friend in the arm.


    ¡°Hey, you got a problem with foreigners, Al?¡± With the ring of the lunch bell brought Mariano sauntering up from his spot across the yard. Like clockwork, it was as if harassing co-workers after break were written into his contract.


    ¡°Eh, just you.¡± Alfred shrugged, tossing Max a sideways smirk. ¡°By the way, your dick fall off yet after your night with that bar girl? Never got the chance to check up on ya! An American doctor can probably salvage some of it before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    ¡°Very funny, Al.¡± Mariano spat back. ¡°You Americans think you¡¯re so much better at everything than everyone else-¡±


    ¡°For your information, Al¡¯s only a couple bad decisions away from marrying a fo-¡± Max muffled the rest through Alfred¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Back off Mariano, we¡¯re getting back to work. Don¡¯t get your panties in a bunch because of stuff you¡¯re imagining!¡± With a mocking salute, Alfred led him and Max as far away from Mariano as the yard would allow.

 45: Pennies

    An afternoon lost among the dirty Chicago streets was not where Yuko pictured her day going. And to think, just one moment of idle window shopping would be perhaps the most disastrous mistake of her life! Not to mention the most dangerous! If it weren''t for that incredibly gorgeous velveteen hat seducing her from the glitzy window of Marshall Field''s, Yuko wouldn''t be a fish out of water in one of "America''s seediest cities."


    Not that Yuko herself necessarily thought so ill of her temporary home - up until this sudden, terrifying change to her afternoon plans, Yuko thought Chicago to be a lovely town through and through, even on the night she stormed out to heaven knows where, only to be rescued by a wily, insufferably charming working man who seemingly had a fancy for leaving girls at their doorstep with nothing but a squashed heart for a ''goodbye''-!


    Not now, Yuko!


    She shook her head. What was wrong with her? Forget Alfred, she would never see him again.


    She had to find Missus Morris! The stuffy, Christ-fearing middle-aged woman her aunt had urged to take Yuko out for the day was more than Yuko could handle on her own. She could tolerate the hour-long ceremony at a Catholic Church, but confession?


    ¡°Your aunt told me you have some things you should make right with God,¡± Missus Morris had the audacity to suggest with a smile, and in front of strangers no less!


    Yuko shuddered, circling the block in an unsuccessful bid to clear her head and get a grasp of her surroundings.


    No luck. She wandered back to her spot by the shop window, still steaming about the humiliating morning courtesy of her aunt and her nutty friend.


    Did these Catholic people seriously find it normal to simply air out their shortcomings to a priest, a complete stranger? Not to mention he refused to even be in the same room when you told him what was on your mind!


    She merely nodded and smiled when Missus Morris eagerly pointed out all the single ¡°well-to-do¡± men returning to their automobiles after the service.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to confess to the Father. But look! None of them know what you did that night you ran away.¡±


    Yuko¡¯s eyes bounced to a display case of pocket watches, tick tick ticking away as her worried face reflected in the glass. She would rather stay here, head downturned and numb to the world behind her, than go back to Missus Morris.


    But she couldn¡¯t. She sighed and reluctantly swooped her head from side to side only to see hundreds of buildings that looked just like the one next to the other.


    If only Alfred were here, he would surely know exactly how to help her, just like last time!


    Instinctively Yuko''s hands shot up to her cheeks, covering the lower half of her rosy face from the swirling world around her.


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    Goodness, can everyone simply keep their eyes to themselves?


    She turned her body back towards the shop window, pretending to show more interest in men''s pocket watches than she ever knew herself to have.


    Even before leaving for Chicago, Yuko knew it was common sense to assume she would be stared at. She was different, a rarity, and to many, unsettling. She remembered the off-chances a foreigner crossed her path in Japan, and now, miles and miles away from her home, she made a silent vow never to stare at a "gaijin" longer than was polite or cross to the other side of the road when one was on the streets of Osaka.


    After her allotted two minutes of self reflection and pity, Yuko''s face yet again reluctantly twisted away from the shiny refuge of department store wares. She hadn''t the slightest clue where Missus Morris might be, and to make matters worse-


    Glooooop


    "Ah-!"


    Yuko bit her lip.


    She would not cry over a silk shoe covered in horse poop. Goodness, there were children starving on the corner just a few feet away!


    The little faces joined the passersby and stared and stared at Yuko, their rosy cheeks hidden under a dusting of dirt.


    Suddenly Yuko lost the urge to hide her face - rather, her clothes were much more worthy objects of shame.


    Honestly, how earth could she have been so blind until today?


    She had no business complaining about her shoes or getting lost because of window shopping when there were people starving right under her nose!


    Pull yourself together.


    She had no right to grumble and moan. The little girl sitting cross-legged on the pavement strengthened Yuko''s resolve, her tiny hands trembling with gratitude and curiosity as Yuko gave her a few pennies.


    "Thank you." The tiny angel mumbled from her pink lips, and as if she were possessed by her own late mother, a sudden wave of maternal desire flooded Yuko''s body as the girl generously rationed out her pennies to her friends.


    If these poor children can survive their whole lives on these streets, I can certainly manage one afternoon.


    "Where are you from?"


    "Hm?"


    Just as she worked up enough gumption to tear herself away, Yuko turned back around to face the poor little children so desperately intrigued by her mere existence. It was as if she were an alien!


    "I''ve never talked to someone like you before," The girl spoke up first.


    "Are you from China?" The two boys soon followed suit, eyes as wide and shiny as marbles.


    "Tom!" The girl mumbled in embarrassment. "You can''t just ask that!"


    "Why not?"


    Before Yuko could butt into their squabble and give the correct answer, a firm hand gripped her shoulder from behind.


    "Good gracious, I finally found you!" Missus Morris was nearly in hysterics, her blonde coils twisting about her face from under her hat. ¡°Where is your head at, girl! And your shoe! What would I tell your aunt if I lost you? That would go over swell-!¡± With a roll of her eyes, Missus Morris caught a glimpse of the three children at her feet. ¡°Oh heavens-! Yuko, come along.¡±


    ¡°Wh-?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving. You need new shoes. Now don¡¯t you worry, that is exactly why we have the churches.¡±


    Yuko sneaked one last glance at the children, becoming smaller and smaller with every step.


    Japan. I¡¯m from Japan.


    Yuko tried her best to mouth the words just before the little girl cut out of view, her tiny hand still gripping her penny as she sent Yuko off with a wave shaky from hunger and neglect.

 I made an IG! Plus new illustration

    And yes, I am with you on the Alfred part. BUT hear me out - I made an IG and I hope I can connect with fellow readers and also writers!


    You can find me at @noelleintide and I hope to post 2-3 times a week!


    I''ll just be posting daily life stuff, like complaining about my grown-out nails, dogs I see on the street, and ranting about how good pb&j is when kettle cooked potato chips are stuffed in between the pieces of bread - the basics.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Oh yeah, and Wayside. You will also find Wayside stuff there ._.


    Anywho, a new chapter will be out tomorrow so hold your horses for another 24 hours ( ?¡ã ?? ?¡ã)


    We also have *drumroll* a new illustration! Have an annoyed Ch. 1 Lucy trying to piece together the shattered remains of her life, how fun.


    With that lovely image, see you on IG (m_m)

 46: Stealth

    "We''re throwing out these shoes right now! A pair of sullied shoes is as good to a woman as a man with no job." Missus Morris dangled the bag carrying Yuko''s ruined poop-stained shoes as far away as her pudgy arms would allow her.


    Yuko had to hold back a laugh as they climbed the minimal flight of stairs to the Palmer House lobby, Missus Morris'' round cheeks red and puffy as her short legs toddled their way past Chicago''s finest.


    "And to think, after spending over fifty dollars on a new pair from their store they couldn''t even be bothered to take these off our hands. Excuse me-!"


    Yuko''s hand flew up to her face on instinct, her tiny palm fruitlessly trying to shield herself from Missus Morris'' growing number of onlookers.


    A sigh of relief left her chest once the poor pageboy turned and left with her smelly shoes in one hand - the other pinched his nose.


    "Oh Yuko, the world today." Missus Morris shook her head as the pair were led into the dining area. "I''m getting much too old to be walking here there and everywhere. Oh! I forgot to ask you-"


    She grabbed Yuko''s hand once they were seated.


    "Did those children on the street take anything from you?"


    "No of course not!"


    Yuko was shocked Missus Morris had the gall to even consider something so awful. Hadn''t she seen those poor children''s faces? Their shaking bodies? They wouldn''t have the strength to ward off even a butterfly!


    "I''m not trying to fault them." Missus Morris pat Yuko''s hand from across the table. "Heavens, I wouldn''t even blame them! So many children have lost their way before they even had a chance to find it in the first place. The parents are to blame, of course. Most prefer paying a premium for a bottle instead of food for a child''s belly. The world today - disgraceful!"


    Yuko locked eyes with the waiter who came to take their menus and fill their glasses, a lanky young man with skin as tan as her own. She thought him very handsome and would have loved to ask him where he was from, but the older woman''s animated babbling scared him away as soon as their menus were in his hands.


    Yuko remained wholly silent for their entire meal, simply smiling her plastered smile and nodding her head at all of Missus Morris¡¯ woes and opinions.


    ¡°I wholeheartedly agree with your aunt Yuko! Forgive me, but your father did shell out quite a bit of money for you to be here. You should find a man to repay him!¡±


    It was humiliating, and when Yuko was asked a question rather than thrown an unsolicited jab in the heart, she could only muster up one-word replies.


    She had decided that was all Missus Morris was worth.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The walk back home should have been brief and uneventful. It was, until Missus Morris insisted they turn a corner three blocks too early to avoid a group of rowdy working men paving a sidewalk.


    ¡°The last thing you need is any more of those,¡± She sniffed.


    But alas, the world seemed to be at odds with Missus Morris and in Yuko¡¯s favor, because the next corner they turned, the pair stumbled into an even larger mess of construction with an even rowdier group of men.


    It didn¡¯t take long for the hoots and whistles to travel through the site once Yuko came clear into view.


    ¡°Heavens above, Yuko,¡± Missus Morris huffed, picking up her pace and grabbing the younger woman¡¯s shoulder with an iron grip. ¡°This - this is your sign to listen to your aunt and snatch a good man!¡±


    Yuko hummed and gave a light nod. She was too embarrassed to keep her head up in front of these men, let alone speak! So many words she didn¡¯t understand were being howled her way, and for once Yuko didn¡¯t want to know what these English words meant - it didn¡¯t take a genius to gather they were filthy and of no use to her studies.


    Her cheeks were on fire, and she was ashamed to admit that more than anything or anyone, Yuko wished for Alfred¡¯s help.


    After what seemed like an eternity, the two women at last reached the next corner to cross the street.


    ¡°Come along, dear.¡± Missus Morris began her escape to the next block with Yuko¡¯s wrist in hand, only for an automobile to speed past just short of their noses. ¡°Gracious!¡±


    Yuko was certain the entire city could hear Missus Morris in her state of surprise. Turning her head to cough away the motor fumes, a familiar face caught her eyes. ¡°Alfred?¡±


    Yuko tried to hold back the joy in her voice, but from the wide smile slowly snaking across Alfred¡¯s dirty face as realization overcame his doubts, she knew it was a lost cause.


    ¡°Yuko? Is that you? Yuko, what are you doing here?¡± Alfred¡¯s smile left just as quickly as it came. He grabbed her hands as if they were a treasure he had lost long ago. What on earth was she thinking, waltzing down a street crawling with construction workers? Alfred would sock every single one of them in their disgusting mouths if he ever got the chance.


    ¡°And what are you doing, sir?¡± Missus Morris yanked Yuko aside. ¡°She may be a foreigner but she''s still well above your pay grade, make no mistake about that!¡±


    ¡°Missus Morris, please!¡± Yuko begged as a crowd of curious workers collected around them.


    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid, lady.¡± Alfred held up his hands in defeat and laughed. ¡°I know a gal out of reach when I see one. It was clear as day the moment we met!¡±


    Yuko felt her heart twist at Alfred¡¯s nonchalance. He wouldn¡¯t even give her a chance?


    ¡°It was you that night!?¡± Missus Morris¡¯ cheeks puffed up to a beet red. ¡°Well, I never-! Yuko, come along.¡±


    Yuko pulled her arm away from Missus Morris¡¯ grip, her shoulder bumping into Alfred¡¯s chest. ¡°No, please, just let me-¡± Missus Morris crossed her arms and shot her a knowing look.


    With wobbly knees and burning eyes, Yuko mustered one last look at Alfred, and in a voice only he would hear, she pleaded.


    ¡°Alfred, I want to see you again. Please-¡±


    Don¡¯t walk away from me. Don¡¯t put me on a pedestal.


    How on earth could the world be so cruel? Why couldn¡¯t she ever have the man she wanted?


    ¡°You want to see me again?¡± Alfred¡¯s usual chirpy tone broke Yuko out of her daze.


    She nodded and, after quickly ripping off a pearl earring and pressing it into Alfred¡¯s gray, dirt-stained palm, Yuko was led away to city streets less sullied.

 47: Moon

    The air in her aunt and uncle''s house was even more stifling than usual, but Yuko didn''t dare to complain - not after the circus Missus Morris was so animatedly regaling the household with over tea in the drawing room.


    "You should have seen him, the lot of them!" Missus Morris, the stocky, god-fearing woman Yuko had the misfortune of spending the afternoon with fought to keep her cup steady in her shaking hand. "Unbelievable, the nerve. And you-!"


    Yuko''s eyes were now as wide as her accuser''s. From her perch on the sofa, she feigned her innocence as much as her prim mannerisms allowed. "Me?"


    "Yes you, missy!" Missus Morris nodded, her chins wiggling with every bob of her head. "Now far be it from me to butt into this family''s private affairs-"


    Is it that far?


    Yuko fought the urge to roll her eyes.


    "But Nasuko, from one friend to another, I urge you to reconsider Yuko''s...activities during her visit."


    Yuko bit her lip.


    "It should have been common sense in the purest form, but I suppose today''s liberalities can lapse the judgment of even those most sensible. A young lady like your Yuko has no business at all traipsing about without a proper escort."


    Proper escort.


    "What do you mean?" Yuko at last allowed herself to intervene. Both her aunt and uncle shot her icy stares from their seats.


    ¡°Now she is a beauty no matter who you ask, but she already has quite a bit working against her. You of all people would know.¡± Missus Morris eyed Nasuko from beyond her teacup. She gave a silent prayer of thanks as her dear friend knowingly nodded her head. ¡°I know it¡¯s not fair. If I had the divine power to level the field against these daft blonde-haired blue-eyed ninnies I would. But Nasuko, if you still intend to have any chance of marrying Yuko to one of your acquaintances, a respectable American family, I can only recommend that she either stay inside and out of trouble or only go out with Ryuji. The girl¡¯s eligibility can only withstand so much until the few admirers she has start to lose interest.¡±


    It took all of Yuko¡¯s strength to maintain her anger. The rest of Missus Morris¡¯ visit was a blur. She couldn¡¯t remember at what point in the afternoon she was sent to her room with a bruised cheek and puffy eyes.


    I can¡¯t do this anymore. I just can¡¯t. I won¡¯t.


    She paced the room, every timid step from one wall to another a reminder of her captivity.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Yes, that¡¯s what is was.


    Like a crane trapped in a cage.


    A husky laugh escaped her as the first streams of rain ran watery cracks down the window.


    How poetic.


    Her mind wandered to the people she walked past today and to the children on the street corner. Oh, she hoped they were dry and safe somewhere with someone kind enough to give them relief if only for one night. If she had her own home, Yuko would have those poor darlings tucked into warm little beds with bellies full enough to last a week.


    What a wonderful dream.


    She rescinded herself to a seat at the desk, its austere, cold chair much more compatible with her melancholy mood than the velveteen lounge at the foot of her bed.


    She thought to herself with a hand crooked under her chin. No one noticed her missing earrings - one now languishing about her purse and another in Alfred¡¯s care.


    A bolt of lighting bounced off the walls.


    Was he still working outside in all of this? All of a sudden Yuko felt queasy, but quickly righted herself and shook her head. Oh, to hell with men! When was the last time a man ever did anything good for her? They were the cause of everything amok and crooked in her life, all of them except-!


    She pursed her lips. No, no more fanciful musings of a man who might, only might,  gallantly show up at her doorstep one day with an earring in hand, and Yuko convinced herself in her sorrowful state that anything else but such a girlish dream had a far higher chance of happening with her luck.


    To the trash with men, the lot of them!


    For the first time in a while Yuko felt her cheeks flare red from misgivings of rage rather than pining. She had to vent her frustrations to someone, or she wholly believed she may explode.


    One hand nimbly reached for the brass handle on the desk¡¯s lone drawer, and after another flash of lightning the vast wooden expanse was covered in her treasured writing paper, a finely detailed floral set adorned with little birds prancing about the corners.


    She almost felt pity for the lovely stationery, soon to be tainted with complaint after complaint void of any joy or talk worthy of such cute flowers and birds. And who on earth would listen?


    Certainly none of her girlfriends back home - to speak of anything veering from the tried and true topics of art and clothing would rouse enough gossip to ruin Yuko¡¯s reputation over there ten times over.


    A letter to herself? One to look back on with a laugh years from now, when Yuko was at last happily married with children to love and spoil until the end of her days?


    Don¡¯t be ridiculous. She rolled her eyes, tapping her pen atop the paper.


    The only options remaining were HIro and her father. She cringed with the memory of the former, and her mind ran to a certain blonde-haired-glasses-wearing working man for comfort from any memories of her former lover.


    Ugh! There I go again! And so she went.


    Further and further astray from her fleeting hatred of the opposite sex and back towards her demure, level-headed, forgiving self, just from the influence of a man she hardly knew.


    She looked out the window, and through the rainy haze caught sight of the outline of the moon.


    Even if you¡¯re far apart, the sun and the moon you look at are the same! So when you¡¯re mad at your aunt or some ass of a guy, all you have to do is look up at the sky and for a minute you¡¯ll be home.


    As Alfred¡¯s cheery voice rang throughout her head, Yuko at last took her pen to paper and wrote her father¡¯s name with a shaky hand. This was all she wrote - to her despair, the rest wouldn¡¯t come.

 48: Karma

    ¡°Woah-oh,¡± Alfred whistled through trembling lips. He inspected the daintily painted coffee cup placed in between his hands, the difference in size far too large to be anything but comical. ¡°These are some fancy cups you got here! I won¡¯t lie, it looks like it¡¯ll break if I drink from it, and I don¡¯t know if I could pay you back ahaha!¡±


    You fucking idiot! Alfred cringed. What the hell was taking Yuko so long!?


    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be afraid of breaking it.¡± Nasuko, Yuko¡¯s aunt, cooly replied. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have offered it to you if I thought otherwise.¡± She had just returned from the second floor, calling Yuko to meet her unexpected, and unwelcome, guest.


    Alfred turned red. He looked across the coffee table to Yuko¡¯s Uncle Ryuji, who gave him a forgiving smile, and suddenly Alfred felt as if he were back in the schoolhouse corner, face to the wall and clad in a dunce hat.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± He forced a gulp of the coffee down his throat.


    He hated coffee, always had, but who was he to ask for something different? Hell, it was a miracle Nasuko even let him in the front door after Alfred¡¯s lackluster first impression.


    The unforgettable night he brought Yuko home, her aunt flung the door open and scooped an arm around her shoulder, shooting a bewildered glare down towards Alfred while her uncle sheepishly sneaked a look from between the second floor curtains.


    What¡¯s more, a gnawing in the back of his head made him certain the fat lady from the other day had told them some wild story about him meeting Yuko once again.


    Alfred rolled Yuko¡¯s pearl earring in between his fingers. Even more surprising than Nasuko¡¯s unexpected welcome was her apparent indifference towards the purpose of Alfred¡¯s visit - she never pushed for proof of the supposed lost earring Alfred used as a ticket into her home to see her niece.


    ¡°You¡¯re the man from the other night. The nerve-¡± Alfred remembered Nasuko lightly tossing her head to one side as she opened the door, her eyes roaming about the tops of Alfred¡¯s new shoes up to his slicked golden hair. ¡°What on earth is it?¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°Morning- I mean, good morning.¡± He composed himself with a deep breath. ¡°Is Yuko home? I have something she lost that I¡¯d like to give back to her.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s always home.¡± Nasuko sighed, shaking her head with a forced frown. ¡°Ever since your little t¨ºte-¨¤-t¨ºte on the side of the road. Her chaperone told me everything.¡±


    Alfred¡¯s mind went blank as he cocked his head to the side. ¡°Sorry, a teeth-a-what?¡±


    Nasuko felt her eyebrow twitch. ¡°I should have known.¡± She made no effort to refrain from rolling her eyes. ¡°Well, in any case, hurry it along. What exactly did my niece leave with you?¡±


    ¡°An earring, it¡­fell off her ear and I found it on the sidewalk.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure this is Yuko¡¯s earring?¡± Nasuko quipped. ¡°Couldn¡¯t it be any random woman¡¯s bauble?¡±


    ¡°Oh no, ma¡¯am.¡± Alfred bobbed his head up and down. ¡°It¡¯s the exact same one she was wearing. I remember everything about her on that day-¡± With a sudden flare upon his cheeks, he slammed his lips shut before he could embarrass himself further. For once, he had no complaints about his beet red, sunburnt skin from work.


    ¡°Hm.¡± Nasuko rested a hand on her hips, her black eyes throwing a glance over her shoulder before waving Alfred inside. ¡°Well then, come in. I¡¯ll call her down, she should be ready for the day by now.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Alfred blurted out with a surprised laugh. It was that easy?


    All the sleepless nights!


    ¡°I''m not going to compromise my karma because of you. You must have some virtue,¡± Nasuko cooed with a snippy laugh, ¡°bringing my niece back home safe and sound after a night on the town.¡±


    What the fuck was karma?


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean any disrespect, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s anything to laugh about.¡± Alfred felt his skin go hot beneath his collar as Nasuko led him to the sitting room. ¡°Yuko was really upset the night I found her. Don¡¯t you think you could go a little easier on her? She already really misses her dad back home and-¡±


    ¡°Oh, look at you, the knight in shining armor.¡± Nasuko snickered, bringing a pot of coffee to the table. ¡°She misses her father? Well, the quicker she finds a man the quicker she can go home.¡± She poured Alfred a cup. ¡°And I¡¯m very sorry to say, Mister Alfred, but that man is not going to be you.¡±

 49: The Ticket Out

    ¡°He came back?¡± Yuko whispered breathlessly. Her aunt must have mistaken him for another man - there¡¯s no way Alfred could have been in an attire as spick and span as her aunt had just described him. ¡°But, how? With new clothes-¡±


    ¡°Believe me, dear, it¡¯s most definitely him. He even remembers your name.¡± Nasuko circled Yuko¡¯s bed and loomed over her from behind her dressing table.


    Yuko¡¯s hands paused their swift movements about her head, one remaining pin sliding around a stray bit of hair. ¡°¡®Even?¡¯ What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    Nasuko rolled her eyes and gave a knowing nod in return. ¡°Don¡¯t make me say any more.¡±


    Yuko rose from her chair, straightening her gauzy silk dress. Her hands were shaking with anticipation. ¡°If you think so little of him, I have to ask why you even allowed him inside. You could have sent him away and I would have never known.¡±


    ¡°And have him sneaking around until he can get a glimpse of you? He¡¯s just the type to do so.¡± Nasuko crossed her arms and scoffed. ¡°No, I¡¯m going to have you nip this in the bud yourself. Once and for all. Come.¡± Before she could motion for Yuko to follow her down the stairs, the younger woman had already pushed past her in an impatient flurry.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He came. He actually came.


    ¡°He¡¯s an idiot.¡± Yuko murmured through laughter and tears.


    No man had ever made such an effort for her. The return of one measly earring, one single pearl was all it took for this strange fool to risk it all for her. Perhaps he didn¡¯t even consider the possibility of her aunt calling the police, or complaining to the construction foreman to get him fired - but Yuko had. Yuko had mulled over every single worst scenario this poor man could suffer, and in countless midnight flurries of selfish emotional highs, dream after dream of failed matchmakings and arrogant men, Yuko prayed Alfred would take her bait.


    Am I selfish? Am I wicked? She wondered to herself as she trounced over the final stair.


    Aunt Nasuko¡¯s instructions flew in one ear and out the other - there was no chance, no smidgen of a possibility that Yuko would send Alfred away.


    And upon entering the sitting room, once again face to face with her savior, her ticket out, she stood firm with a hand clutched to her heart.


    She would not, could not find it in her conscience to let him go.


    Perhaps I am.

 50: Listening (end of Al & Yuko novelette)

    ¡°Yuko, doll, for God¡¯s sake, they¡¯re not following you!¡± Alfred huffed in exasperation. ¡°Hell, it¡¯d be front page of the newspaper if your aunt ever stepped foot in this part of town.¡±


    His heart flipped as her grasp on his arm grew tighter with every step they took.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just that.¡± Yuko whispered. ¡°There¡¯s no one here who looks like me.¡± Her eyes didn¡¯t know what to focus on as she and Alfred made their way further into one of his regular haunts - a rinky dink pub catering to the downtown¡¯s poorer classes.


    ¡°Well, that can go two ways.¡± Alfred gave her hand a squeeze. ¡°What¡¯s bothering you more? We can try somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Neither is bothering me!¡± She murmured as Alfred pulled her a chair. Once settled at their table in a corner as far away from the smoke and shouts as possible, Yuko properly scanned her surroundings. It was just as she had expected, and, although she would never admit it, feared.


    To be in a place with no other Japanese people was something she had quickly grown accustomed to during her short time in Chicago, but to be the only person who had never worked a day in their life? This was a situation she had never anticipated prior to meeting Alfred.


    ¡°Come on, it¡¯s clear you¡¯re just a little bit uncomfortable.¡± Alfred chuckled, briefly plopping a hand atop Yuko¡¯s head. ¡°This might make you feel better - my friend Max who¡¯s meeting us later? He was the son of a rich farmer in Poland! But with the war and all they lost everything -¡±


    ¡°Alfred, I¡¯m waiting,¡± Yuko could feel her eyebrow twitching.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t give our order yet. Waiting for what?¡±


    ¡°For the part where this is supposed to make me feel better.¡±


    ¡°Well I thought it¡¯d give you some common ground! Your family is rich, my friend was rich-¡± Alfred made a scale with his hands to drive his point home.


    Yuko rolled her eyes, unable to stifle a laugh. ¡°Well, if my aunt and uncle dare to knock on my bedroom door tonight, I might be disowned completely.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but I thought that was gonna happen after you hugged me in front of them the other day.¡± Alfred joined in on her laughter, remembering her aunt¡¯s admirable attempt to remain civil after Yuko had clearly disobeyed her instructions to turn Alfred away.


    ¡°I waited for you.¡± Yuko whispered, lightly tapping one of the shining pearl earrings framing her face. She looked down at her lap as her cheeks reddened with shame.


    Was it shame? It didn¡¯t feel like shame to her, but what of everyone else? What of her aunt and uncle, and Missus Morris and Hiro?


    What of her father?Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°But why wait for me?¡± Alfred shook his head in confusion. ¡°I¡¯m really not anything special.¡±


    ¡°But you are!¡± Yuko continued, gripping the edge of the table. ¡°Al, you asked me what I was thinking. On the first day we met. Do you know how rare that is?¡±


    ¡°Is it really that rare?¡± Alfred blinked. ¡°I asked because I was worried about you.¡±


    ¡°And you listened to me!¡±


    Alfred hadn¡¯t the slightest clue what she was on about. Simply being in her presence was an honor to him, so how could he imagine someone who wouldn¡¯t listen to a girl as smart and pretty as she was?


    ¡°I think I am so lucky to meet you. It¡¯s so¡­¡± She fussed with her words, ¡°wonderful. You listen to women!¡±


    Alfred nearly choked on his own saliva, thanking god that a waiter hadn¡¯t come yet to witness his demise. ¡°Uh¡­yeah! Yep, I aghuh-!¡± He punched his chest, ¡°Listen to women, oh yes.¡±


    His shoulders tensed as she looked him up and down, tilting her angelic head ever so slightly to the side. If she ever knew his past, how many nights he wasted on the lowest of the low, she would think differently.


    ¡°If I¡¯m able to make you feel better, I¡¯m happy to listen.¡± He felt a heavy weight squeezing atop his heart. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to look anywhere but into the glimmering, dark eyes of a woman far too good for anyone he could ever dream of becoming.


    And yet, here she was, singing his praises simply for lending an ear.


    Suddenly the root of all of his guilt, his niece, flashed across his mind, and for a second Alfred swore he could find her weeping eyes somewhere in the depths of Yuko¡¯s own.


    ¡°And I¡¯m happy to listen to you, too.¡± Yuko reached across the table for his hand. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Alfred felt a tear fall onto his free hand.


    ¡°Oh, yeah I¡¯m fine!¡± He forced a chuckle. ¡°Now I¡¯m just wondering, before my brother died, if I listened more to Lucy, my niece - hell, not just her, everyone - he would still be alive.¡±


    ¡°Alfred, there¡¯s nothing to do about your brother. But Lucy is still alive. Maybe if you showed more of this side of you to your niece, and to others, you would be-.¡±


    ¡°I think that ship has sailed for Lucy.¡± Alfred had to cut her off. He couldn¡¯t bear hearing more.


    ¡°Hm?¡±


    ¡°It means there¡¯s no chance for us to be close again.¡± He shook his head. ¡°All I can do is hope she makes the right decisions on her own.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Al.¡± Yuko gripped his hand tighter. ¡°Don¡¯t think like that. Please don¡¯t. You can still help her. You can.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Write to her.¡± She took a deep, shaky breath. ¡°Don¡¯t forget about her.¡±


    ¡°I never wanted to forget about her.¡± He quickly wiped another tear away. ¡°But what if she wants to forget about me?¡±


    ¡°I promise you - I promise you, that is not the case.¡± Yuko made no effort to hide her desperation. She wasn¡¯t able to bring herself to write to her father, but perhaps if Alfred had the courage to write his niece, Yuko¡¯s own bravery would follow suit.


    ¡°Will you be here? Will you be here with me if she comes?¡± It was a long shot, of course Alfred knew. He might have better luck becoming a millionaire than tearing Lucy away from her beloved childhood home.


    ¡°If you want me to be with you, and her, I¡¯d be honored.¡± Yuko sensed his unease and gave him a reassuring nod. She hadn¡¯t the slightest clue how she could, would, break away from her aunt¡¯s calculated plans, but she¡¯d be damned if she didn¡¯t go down without a fight.


    ¡°Well,¡± Alfred sighed, flashing Yuko a small grin as he waved down a man who had just come in. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll make a trip to the post office tomorrow, huh?¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Yuko smiled, straightening her skirt and hair. ¡°And maybe sneak me out again.¡±

 51: Hooky

    Bang. Bang. Bang. Slide. Bang. Bang. Slide. Bang.


    The sound was enough to make Lucy spit.


    She fidgeted with her fingers in her lap as her patience for the man in front of her ran dangerously low.


    ¡°You know, if you¡¯re going to call me in here, maybe you could save that for another time?¡± Lucy stabbed a finger towards the mounds of papers claiming Kazuma¡¯s desk as the next Mount Everest.


    Besides a strained smile and a ¡°Please, have a seat,¡± Kazuma had paid her no mind for the past five minutes as his wrist continued to flick his seal down onto countless documents all vying for his attention.


    ¡°My choice of music not to your liking, Lucy dear?¡± His usually stiff shoulders shuddered as a chuckle escaped him, eyes peering up momentarily for a glimpse at his guest¡¯s nearly manic expression.


    ¡°If this is music, then please for the love of God, make me go deaf.¡± She threw her face into her hands, elbows digging into her thighs. ¡°And don¡¯t call me that.¡±


    Lucy grit her teeth while Kazuma let out another sickeningly annoying laugh, followed by more bangs and the sliding of papers.


    It had been six weeks since the ¡°agreement¡± between her Uncle Alfred and Kazuma had taken place, and as they rolled steadily into summer, it was wholly safe to say that not much progress had been made, besides for the fact that this ¡°Mister Kamoi¡± had made a second home in their house¡¯s old study. Every Saturday and Sunday at unpredictable hours, Kazuma and Mieko would pop their way through the door of the Hampton home, Kazuma carrying on business discussions with Alfred and Mieko making a beeline towards Lucy and Yuko. Alfred and Kazuma always found themselves back in the same place as their first meeting, at the wooden table in the study with a pack of cigarettes in between them. Lucy would have given anything to be a fly on the wall in one of their private gatherings, but whenever she tried to follow them, the door was slid in her face.


    ¡°Hmmmm.¡±


    Lucy was dragged out of her thoughts as Kazuma finally looked her way.


    ¡°This sound is music to my ears.¡± He grinned at her from across the desk, one hand cradling his chin while the other continued its inky assault on the papers below him. ¡°I needed this, especially after everything you¡¯ve pulled on me.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me!?¡± Lucy shrieked, fists pounding on the desk in front of her. ¡°What I¡¯ve pulled!? What about you-¡±


    ¡°This,¡± Kazuma sighed, unfazed and drinking in Lucy¡¯s rageful spunk with a smirk, ¡°Is the sound of productivity. I know it may be unfamiliar to your ears, but please, give it a chance.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Lucy crossed her arms and scrunched her nose, leaning as far back into her chair as it would allow. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°You''re, I like to believe, a smart girl. It means exactly what you think.¡± Gathering the wayward documents into one pile and setting down his hanko, Kazuma leaned forward. ¡°At least, I hope you can gather what I am referring to.¡± A steely glint danced across his eyes as Kazuma rubbed at his brow. ¡°Little Miss Hooky.¡±


    ¡°Stop giving me these random nicknames!¡±


    ¡°Very well, Lucy dear.¡±


    Lucy groaned through gritted teeth, head down and lips taut, waiting for Kazuma to start his lecture.


    ¡°The teahouse-¡±


    ¡°A dud, I know,¡± She rolled her eyes while Kazuma scoffed and shook his head.


    ¡°More than a dud.¡± Kazuma motioned a hand towards Lucy¡¯s slouched figure. ¡°It was an embarrassment, a smudge on my name.¡±


    ¡°You lied to me!¡± Lucy balled her hands back into fists. ¡°You said the pay was 300 yen, they gave me 250.¡±


    ¡¸I didn''t lie. It was a miscommunication.¡¹ Kazuma snipped. "But in your situation that still gives you no ground to not show up the following day.¡±


    His eyes studied Lucy¡¯s stiff posture, heaving a sigh from the depths of his stomach as he accepted her resolve not to look at him. ¡°I was going to talk with them about the discrepancy, but instead you jumped the gun and took it into your own hands. I¡¯ve done business with them for years, and now? We have to go and scrounge for something else once again.¡±


    ¡°How was I supposed to know you would talk to them? After all, it¡¯s not like you really-¡± Kazuma¡¯s unreadable expression roused unease as Lucy stole a glance from under her fringe. Whether he was insulted or concerned or any emotion in between, Lucy couldn¡¯t tell.


    ¡°Me working odd jobs wasn¡¯t part of the deal.¡± She twirled a piece of hair between her fingers as she quickly changed the subject. ¡°Instead of having me in here, why not my uncle? The one you actually made said deal with?¡±


    ¡°Oh-ho.¡± Kazuma chuckled again, rising from his chair and circling around Lucy to gaze out the window. ¡°Your uncle is even worse than you, if you can believe that.¡±


    ¡°Worse than me?¡± Feigning shock with a hand to her chest, Lucy gasped and rolled her eyes. ¡°Mister Kamoi, you sure know how to flatter a girl.¡±


    Spinning on his heel and reaching for the armrest to Lucy¡¯s chair, Kazuma decided to entertain her charades - and his bravado.


    ¡°Even if someone¡¯s a pain in my behind, I¡¯m more motivated to play the game when they¡¯re a challenge. And a such pretty little one at that.¡± He applauded his victory once Lucy¡¯s pale face began to ignite in a heated flush, her hands shooing him away as her legs jolted her to a stand.


    ¡°This ¡®game¡¯ shouldn¡¯t have anything to do with me.¡± Winding towards the door, Lucy felt Kazuma¡¯s eyes stabbing a hole through the back of her skull. ¡°I¡¯ll leave your bullshit between the two of you.¡±


    ¡°My my, and just when I thought Little Miss Lucy would give me a run for my money.¡± Kazuma hummed dreamily, returning to his chair and reaching again for his hanko.


    Bang. Bang.


    ¡°All bark and no bite, you are. Very well, bring him in.¡±


    Lucy had half a mind to let loose once more with the verbal bullets, but for her sanity¡¯s sake, she left the room with a slam.


    Once the grumbling subsided and the door crashed to a close, Kazuma allowed himself one more laugh as he rummaged through his jacket for his pack of cigarettes - a small reward preceding the second trial of the day.

 52: Old Flame

    ¡¸Still nothing?¡¹ Mieko crossed her arms and leaned her head on the sliding door. The night had finally arrived - Kazuma¡¯s welcome home reception, haphazardly thrown together over the past weeks with a slew of hurried invitations sent and seasonal delicacies quickly ordered and prepared.


    ¡¸You¡¯re an eye-witness, Micchan, they¡¯re a mess.¡¹ Kazuma slouched next to the young heiress on the wooden balcony, a hand picking at his trousers while the other held his pocket watch.


    Twenty minutes to spare.


    He would give anything to spend the evening out here, with Mieko and the koi fish scurrying beneath them, the only living creatures present tonight who wouldn¡¯t think of judging his character or using him for malicious personal gain.


    ¡¸They¡¯re our mess now.¡¹ Mieko chimed in, fussing with her hair and jewelry in the pond reflection.


    ¡¸Hah,¡¹ Startled koi escaped towards the other end of the pond as Kazuma let out a booming laugh. ¡¸Our mess? You spend your days treating the home like an amusement park, gossiping with Yuko and Lucy without a care in the world. You really are a star conversationalist, taken after me of course.¡¹


    ¡¸Well I try to be sociable, at least! You¡¯re always just dragging Lucy out here and there for this job and that, I barely see her and it¡¯s no wonder she¡¯s fed up with you! Might I remind you, she was teaching me English before you stole her away.¡¹


    Mieko eyed Kazuma for any sort of reaction. Dealing with Alfred was one thing, but Lucy was in a league of her own when it came to making Kazuma crack from frustration behind closed doors.


    ¡¸A woman needs stability, and you¡¯re not giving her that with these odd jobs.¡¹


    ¡¸Stability? That girl is anything but stable, much less any job she tries.¡¹ Kazuma¡¯s free hand found itself tangled in his hair before fluttering down to his side. ¡¸She should be grateful, but she still fails to see what I¡¯m giving her. I could mold her if she would let me! I do wish I could focus more on Miss Hasegawa, but she¡¯s in a tough spot.¡¹


    Unaware of Mieko rolling her eyes at his pitiful complaining, Kazuma tapped his fingers on the wooden floor.


    Miss Hasegawa.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    During his second visit to the Hampton household, Yuko was kind enough to explain to Kazuma over tea her precarious situation regarding Osaka and the local upper class. She told him that she was the daughter of a science professor at an undisclosed university and had her fair share of attendance to social functions in the region. That was until she was sent to Chicago for a stay with extended family.


    While Kazuma nor Mieko ever had the pleasure of meeting Yuko at an event in the past, it was settled that it was in the Hampton¡¯s best interests for Yuko to refrain from ¡°public¡± work, lest her carefully hidden, ¡°unsavory¡± private life be breached and leaked to the snobbish masses.


    ¡¸This is nearly impossible.¡¹ Letting out a sigh, his fingers traced the cool metal of his watch.


    ¡¸There¡¯s always that idea we talked about last week¡­¡¹ Mieko placed a finger under her chin as she puffed out her cheeks, grinning and eager for Kazuma¡¯s answer.


    ¡¸That, Micchan, is an absolute last resort.¡¹ Kazuma genuinely pondered if Mieko sometimes found joy in making him squirm. She always had a talent for writing off her comments as jokes, but sometimes Kazuma had to wonder. ¡¸One day with Alfred and I worry Hiro will have to be institutionalized.¡¹


    ¡¸Oh, that Hiro could use someone like Al!¡¹ Mieko huffed while playing with her pearl necklace. ¡¸Everytime I see him, I wonder where the pole attached to his back is hiding! He¡¯s so uptight about everything, I¡¯d pay to see Al move a row on his abacus.¡¹


    With that comment, both friends were a laughing mess under the garden¡¯s moonlight, a momentary respite from the stresses of work until--


    ¡¸Ah, welcome, you¡¯re early! Please, come in.¡¹


    The pair let out a groan as boisterous conversation seeped through the walls. Kazuma reluctantly rose from the floor, tossing his watch in one of his coat pockets.


    How many times they would be inundated with ¡°Are you busy recently?¡± or ¡°What a lovely house¡± and countless other bouts of drivel over the course of one night, neither of them could nor wanted to know.


    ¡¸How long do you think this will last?¡¹ Mieko questioned, taking hold of Kazuma¡¯s hand and brushing off her skirt as she stood.


    Before Kazuma could reply, both froze as the adjacent door to the garden slid open, revealing Mister Takahara steaming under a guise of civility.


    ¡¸We have guests.¡¹ He hissed. ¡¸A very important one for you, Kazuma, and I won¡¯t have her waiting for a moment longer.¡¹


    Mieko¡¯s heart sank as bile threatened to travel up her throat. ¡¸No-¡¹


    ¡¸Who?¡¹ Completely oblivious as to exactly who his boss was referring to, Kazuma¡¯s confusion grew once Mieko¡¯s grip on his arm tightened.


    ¡¸Iwagami Sanae.¡¹


    Kazuma¡¯s blood ran cold.


    Shit.


    Sanae?


    That was a name he had so desperately hoped would remain a distant, lost memory.

 53: Dull

    ¡¸Father, why did you have to invite Sanae and her family?¡¹ Taking a seat on the sofa next to her father, Mieko massaged her throbbing temple. Not even a half hour had passed since the evening of shallow charades had begun, and she was already worried for Kazuma¡¯s well-being.


    ¡¸She is Miss Iwagami to you.¡¹ Mister Takahara grunted, keenly eyeing the pair of estranged lovers from across the room.


    ¡¸After three years, she¡¯s still taken with him, and I count that as a blessing.¡¹


    His blood boiled as Kazuma remained visibly uninterested in any of Sanae¡¯s advances for conversation, the young woman desperately hanging at his side while Kazuma barely made eye contact.


    Mieko rolled her eyes, holding back a gag at the mere suggestion of Sanae being a blessing for anyone.


    ¡¸Taken with his money, more like.¡¹ She whispered, refusing to flinch as her father shot her a warning glare.


    ¡¸Enough. Not another word.¡¹ He warned through gritted teeth before abruptly rising to greet a group of stragglers, leaving Mieko with the sickening sight of Sanae shamelessly hunting for any scruple of affection Kazuma may throw her way.


    Mieko would be lying to herself if she denied the stunning presence Sanae was delivering that evening: her long, shining black hair was delicately swaddled around a golden flower barrette, wayward tresses dripping down the nape of her neck before giving way to a dark blue evening gown. Mieko sighed from her lonely seat on the sofa, praying that Kazuma would hold onto some smidgen of dignity and not fall back into the spider¡¯s web.


    Both women caught eyes for a second, challenging Mieko¡¯s will not to march over to the person she despised the most and slap the ice-cold smirk from her done-up face.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Near the window across the room, Sanae felt her heart skip as the man of her attentions motioned for them to enter a nearby study, wonderfully private and nostalgic of their prior shared pastime.


    The nosy little brat across the way was probably tearing her hair out as the two were lost from her sight.


    Serves her right.


    ¡¸My apologies if I¡¯m not exactly to your expectations this evening.¡¹


    The smooth timber of Kazuma¡¯s voice jolted Sanae out of her ruminations. Eyeing the back of his suit as helocked the door behind them, Sanae¡¯s cheeks turned pink as she breathed a sigh of relief.


    Alone again after all this time.


    Up until now, she had wondered if Mieko had already trashed her chances of winning back Kazuma, telling outlandish tales about her and her ¡°desperation¡± for a wealthy match.


    ¡¸Oh, not at all.¡¹ She smiled as she accepted his hand, wiggling her hips as she took a seat on the small lounge beside Kazuma¡¯s desk. ¡¸As long as I get to have your attention, Mister Kamoi, I¡¯m more than satisfied for the night.¡¹


    To her pleasure, he managed a weary chuckle while he took the space beside her.


    Sanae caught his glimpse traveling from her eyes down to her lips, finally flickering over her collarbone before suddenly jumping towards the closed door.


    ¡¸You never took such precautions before.¡¹ She murmured as a giggle escaped from behind her hands. ¡¸I thought you-¡¹


    ¡¸Sanae-¡¹ Kazuma let out a huff, settling his gaze on the exhausting woman cozying up next to him. ¡¸I hear that you¡¯ve done quite a bit of matchmaking, hm?¡¹


    Taken aback by the sharp tone of his voice, Sanae decided to tread lightly for the time being.


    ¡¸Yes, I have.¡¹ She sang, eyelashes brushing against Kazuma''s sleeve as she met his gaze. ¡¸It was a terrible thing you did to me. Not a single letter, after all we¡¯ve done together.¡¹


    She could feel his body grow stiff as she leaned her weight against him.


    ¡¸Mm.¡¹ He hummed in thought, a hand reaching to nervously scratch at his chin. ¡¸I suppose a pretty thing like you has already found an appropriate match, yes?¡¹


    Sanae froze, eyes wide and mouth turning into a frown.


    What on earth is he getting at?

 54: Bachelor

    ¡¸Mm.¡¹ He hummed in thought, a hand reaching to nervously scratch at his chin. ¡¸I suppose a pretty thing like you has already found an appropriate match, yes?¡¹


    Sanae froze, eyes wide and mouth turning into a frown.


    What on earth is he getting at?


    She bit her lip as her fingers inched over his knee.


    ¡¸Oh, I certainly did.¡¹ She replied with a laugh. ¡¸I simply hope that a trip around the world didn¡¯t make him forget about me.¡¹


    Placing her free hand atop his shoulder, Sanae smiled as Kazuma leaned in practically on instinct.


    ¡¸None of those men can compare to you, and you know it.¡¹ She whispered, her stained lips hovering dangerously close to his.


    Seconds painfully passed like hours as Sanae patiently waited for Kazuma¡¯s advance, only for it to never come.


    ¡¸You flatter my ego as always, Sanae.¡¹ Kazuma eventually muttered out with a shaky breath. ¡¸I truly hope that you find a man who can help you forget about me.¡¹


    ¡¸Excuse me?¡¹ Sanae sputtered as Kazuma rose from the lounge with one swift, near-robotic motion. ¡¸I surely don¡¯t know what you mean.¡¹


    Had he lost interest in her? Was there someone else? Her stomach sank at the thought.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡¸What we had, those three years ago.¡¹ Kazuma spoke steadily and calmly as he reached for the door. ¡¸I was of the understanding that it was for our amusement, a pastime, and nothing more. That¡¯s what we had both agreed on, was it not?¡¹


    Her head spun in confusion. Mister Takahara, her family, they were all wrong.


    She didn¡¯t know what to do except clench her knees in shock, her fingernails threatening to tear into the silk dress she had so meticulously chosen for the moment of their reunion, where the man she had waited for and daydreamed of every waking day would finally settle down and whisk her away into his mysterious, high-rolling world.


    ¡¸I waited for you, for three years.¡¹ Sanae¡¯s voice was flat, shaking, and completely void of the previous flirtatious confidence she had boasted earlier.


    ¡¸I am twenty-seven years old, Mister Kamoi.¡¹


    Kazuma¡¯s hand remained on the door handle, shoulders tense and neck strained as he stared back into the room.


    Mister Kamoi.


    It was as if they were meeting for the first time all over again, distance and aloofness replacing their once vibrant charade of whimsy and passion.


    ¡¸And I¡¯m thirty-two.¡¹ He grunted. ¡¸You¡¯re a smart, beautiful woman, Sanae. I advise you to choose a marriage-minded man rather than stooping to the same level as a washed-up bachelor.¡¹


    With that, Kazuma flung the door open before his old lover could shout at him, slap him, or cry, all of which were perfectly valid reactions, Kazuma had to admit to himself. The mirage had come to an end. Light poured into the moonlit room, illuminating Sanae and the pricks of water sparkling under her eyes.


    ¡¸I apologize.¡¹


    That was all Kazuma could muster before Sanae tore away from the room, lips quivering into a forced smile as she strolled towards a group of women she had flower arranging lessons with. She shot a glance towards the Takahara heiress, still sitting pretty on her plush sofa as a group of men loitered around for her attention.


    It was enough to make Sanae¡¯s skin crawl.

 55: Our Father

    ¡°So?¡± Yuko huffed, taking a pen and swirling it across the writing paper on her lap. ¡°Care to share what knowledge Teacher Kamoi so graciously imparted on you today?¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon Yuko,¡± Alfred groaned as he lit the candles set on the living room table. ¡°Aren¡¯t we a little old for that? We¡¯re doing the best we can!¡±


    Discussing Mister Kamoi and their finances was not how either of them wanted to share their sliver of private time together, but it had to be done.


    ¡°Throwing Lucy into a new job every two days is not his best, not for him nor for any man.¡± Yuko tsked as a flower slowly formed across the white page.  ¡°He should be working you, not her. It isn¡¯t fair.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t fair? He¡¯s been throwin¡¯ stuff at me this whole time too! It¡¯s not just her he¡¯s dragging around!¡± Crouching beside his fiance, Alfred rested his chin on her shoulder and peered down at her work. ¡°Flower¡¯s almost as pretty as you.¡±


    He chuckled as Yuko shrugged him off. ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject. Lucy¡¯s actually been working, while you-¡±


    Yuko paused, taking a moment to look Alfred up and down. He was completely disheveled, glasses askew and hair awry in all directions.


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to begin with you.¡± She sighed, biting her tongue for fear that she would blurt out something she¡¯d later regret.


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± Alfred raised his hands above his chest in submission. ¡°I gotta work on the language, that¡¯s why no one¡¯ll take me, yeah?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­yes.¡± Yuko¡¯s grip on her pencil tightened, slowly tracing a stem from the center of her flower. ¡°You beat me to it this time. But it¡¯s not just that.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s robbing us blind.¡± She furrowed her brow as her concentration grew, carefully plotting the positions of the leaves. ¡°Thirty percent is not reasonable, and you know it as well as I do.¡±


    Crossing his arms and stretching his legs, Alfred shook his head. ¡°What other option do we have? I mean, maybe if you could work too then-¡±


    The fine movements of Yuko¡¯s fingers came to a halt. Dropping her pencil and holding her head in her hands, she again shrugged off Alfred moving in to comfort her.


    ¡°Hey hey, you know I didn¡¯t mean it like that.¡± His breath hitched in the back of his throat as his hands were bumped back into his face.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t be mad.¡± Yuko snapped back. ¡°You don¡¯t think I want to work? I hate being in here all day.¡±


    A wave of shock and, interestingly enough, gratitude crashed over Alfred at Yuko¡¯s outburst. Finally, she was showing some more transparency regarding her discontent. It wasn¡¯t just her father. Alfred knew, despite the rehearsed smiles, despite the motherly waves as Lucy trudged out the door in the mornings to meet with Kazuma, Yuko wanted some freedom of her own instead of standing by and caring for others who took it for granted.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Well, if you wanna work-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that easy.¡± Cutting him off again, Yuko raised her head to meet Alfred¡¯s worried eyes. ¡°The one interpreting session I had with Mister Kamoi - there was a man who kept staring at me and I can only assume he knows my face from somewhere. It¡¯s too much of a risk for all of us.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t stand to relive the memory. Two weeks ago, at a table with three Canadian missionaries and a group of local bankers, Kazuma had called upon Yuko for a trade: two hours of her time for ten-thousand yen. A flood of confidence fired up within her the moment she gained her footing in the dealings, until it all dried up the instant one of the bankers refused to look anywhere else but straight into Yuko¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°But he didn''t say he knew you, right?¡± Alfred questioned.


    Yuko nodded. ¡°No, he didn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t say anything to me.¡±


    ¡°So for all we know, he just thought you were a looker, which would be right! No need for you to worry, but me on the other hand, I¡¯m afraid my girl¡¯s too popular.¡±


    He thanked the stars as Yuko actively snuggled underneath his arm, perfectly satisfied and foolishly content with their current state on the floor.


    ¡°Either way, we don¡¯t want to risk it. Osaka is smaller than it looks.¡± Yuko picked at her nailbeds until Alfred¡¯s hand captured her twiddling fingers.


    ¡°You know.¡± Alfred laughed as he rested his head atop Yuko¡¯s hair, ¡°I remember a night like this one where you said we shouldn¡¯t worry about your dad, but seems to me like you¡¯ve changed your tune.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Yuko moaned. ¡°But a part of me wonders if maybe you were right. About him, and us.¡±


    ¡°¡®Us¡¯? What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re still not married, don¡¯t you understand?¡± Yuko¡¯s tone was sharp and blunt. ¡°I don¡¯t want to keep playing house when I can¡¯t even be in public with my family.¡± Her quip ended in a small whisper, fingers returning to their assault on her nail beds despite Alfred¡¯s tight grip.


    ¡°Is¡­is that what this fear is all about? The whole ¡®living with your boyfriend and not your husband¡¯ deal?¡± Alfred wanted to laugh, it sounded so ridiculous to his ears, but he forced himself to view it from a woman¡¯s lense, for Yuko¡¯s sake.


    ¡°It¡¯s perfectly natural to feel that way. People talk. And you were the one who told me we have to be married to get settled.¡± Yuko blushed, looking down at her drawing still in her lap. ¡°I¡¯m still worried about my father too.¡± Placing her paper on the table, she patted Alfred¡¯s arm. ¡°He¡¯s a man very set in his ways, Alfred. I don¡¯t know if you two would get along.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m marrying you, not him!¡±


    ¡°¡®You marry the family when you marry the girl,¡¯ isn¡¯t that an expression?¡±


    The two continued their back and forth as Alfred rose them up from their seats, plucking his fingers over the candle flames and leading them towards the stairs.


    ¡°I¡¯ll marry you, Yuko, and I¡¯ll talk more with Kazuma, get a steady job, then we can meet your dad and you can go out and do whatever you want, okay? No more babysitting us.¡±


    ¡°Well you had better hurry along, Al."


    Yuko used all of her strength to force a smile, hands again interlocked with Alfred¡¯s as they climbed the stairs and slugged their way into their bedroom.


    Beyond the wall, Lucy lay on her side, running her hand over the tatami floor while the pair''s voices flowed from the other room.


    Great, lost my spot.


    Lucy rolled over and placed her pillow above her head. No sweet dreams greeted her as she hit the futon over an hour ago. So far the night had passed with nothing but memories of disappointed shop owners, broken Japanese, and failed interviews - always ending with Kazuma trailing ten paces ahead of her with no words of comfort.


    How could God have allowed this to happen? How low had she fallen to desire praise from her captor?


    Is this it? Is this life from here on out?


    She let out a slow breath, repositioning herself on her back as she fell again into prayer.


    Give us this day our daily bread,


    And forgive us our debts,


    As we also have forgiven our debtors.

 56: Not a Boyfriend

    ¡°So¡­you have a boyfriend?¡± She couldn¡¯t hold the question back any longer. After quite the walk around town, Lucy had to inquire why exactly Mieko was so determined to walk an extra kilometer just to greet a certain fisherman she was supposedly ¡°acquaintances¡± with.


    "Eh? Not a boyfriend, Lu-chan!¡± Mieko¡¯s face was as red as a fall leaf once Lucy¡¯s question infiltrated her already fogged-up head.


    It was a perfect afternoon, and she had struck a bit of luck - Mister Fosters was down and out with a case of heat stroke, which gave her the freedom to tag along with Kazuma on his errands including a quick stop to the Hampton home. He supposedly had something to discuss with Alfred and Yuko in private.


    ¡¸Well, something tells me if you were with Kazuma instead of me, we wouldn¡¯t be going to all this trouble.¡¹ Lucy smirked, already well-aware of just how protective Kazuma was of his little heiress.


    "Her father is very selective with the men who are able to approach her, as am I."


    Lucy had remembered Kazuma explaining Mieko¡¯s precarious situation on one of their outings to a potential employer.


    "I can only hope she gets along with the match she will be provided."


    The memory riled up feelings of confusion and hesitancy within Lucy, as thoughts like these always did - ever since she and Kazuma began their excursions out into town whether it be on interviews, ¡°prep¡± for said interviews, and the like, he often leaked rather private information regarding his relationship with the Takahara family. This was always much to Lucy¡¯s surprise, a complete deviation from his usual condescending treatment.


    ¡¸If I was with Kazuma? Oh definitely not.¡¹ Mieko snorted, dragging Lucy out of her pensive reverie. ¡¸Kazuma can''t stand Ryu-kun.¡¹This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡¸Oh really? And why¡¯s that?¡¹ Lucy was intrigued to know more. Anyone who didn¡¯t get along with Kazuma would surely be a friend of hers.


    ¡¸Kazuma says he doesn¡¯t act like a man.¡¹ Crossing her arms as her footsteps grew heavy, Mieko sighed. ¡¸Ryu-kun is scared of a lot of things - ghosts, snakes, dogs¡­¡¹


    ¡°Dogs? What kind of guy is afraid of dogs?¡± Lucy couldn¡¯t help but giggle, scolding herself for taking Kazuma¡¯s side.


    ¡¸Men are allowed to be afraid of things too, you know!¡¹ A defensive lilt struck Mieko¡¯s voice. ¡¸Don¡¯t be like Kazuma, Lu-chan. If only more men were like Ryu-kun, I dare say we wouldn¡¯t have had that big awful war!¡¹


    Lucy smiled, wondering if Mieko was even aware that her hands were now clasped above her chest, eyes sparkling and cheeks so rosy that people were starting to give concerned looks her way.


    ¡°Okay, okay, you¡¯re probably right.¡± Stretching her hands above her head as they continued their stroll, Lucy let out a groan. ¡°The last thing we need in this world is more Kazumas.¡±


    ¡¸Hey! That¡¯s¡­completely true.¡¹ No matter how much she loved him, Mieko couldn¡¯t argue there. ¡¸One of him is more than enough, huh?¡¹


    Mieko bopped Lucy on the shoulder, and both girls kept their pace down the bustling road until Mieko stopped them in front of an incredibly busy seafood market.


    Already feeling waves of anxiety hit her core, Lucy waited for Mieko to enter the roaring market first.


    ¡¸Hey! If you or your parents ain¡¯t buyin¡¯ then get a move on!¡¹ A young man with a scruffy goatee pushed past Mieko and out towards a group of noisy children. They were poking their noses against the fish containers sitting at the entrance, tapping on the glass and reaching inside.¡¸Ah, Micchan sorry, give me one minute and I¡¯ll be with ya!¡¹


    The man took a double take over his shoulder once he shooed the children away, eyes lighting up as he ran back inside towards her and Lucy. ¡¸You gotta be kidding me, Micchan! You know this girl?¡¹ Lucy grimaced as a finger was pointed in her face, and then it hit her.


    I know him from somewhere.

 New Cover!

    Check out the new cover art below!


    At last we finally have the dysfunctional family in one photo.


    How many takes do you think it took to get a somewhat decent picture where nobody looks homicidal >_> the struggle is real Lucy we see youThis book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I whipped the cover up with what limited graphic design skills I have, but nevertheless I am decently, modestly proud lol.


    Thank you always for your support, and stay tuned for the new chapter this weekend :^)

 57: A Fishy Rendezvous

    ¡¸You gotta be kidding me, Micchan! You know this girl?¡¹ Lucy grimaced as a finger was pointed in her face, and then it hit her.


    I know him from somewhere.


    Where exactly did she see this guy again?


    ¡¸Kazuma chased this one down in Shinsekai! Don¡¯t tell me he got her!?¡¹


    A look of bewilderment meshed with defeat flooded across the fisherman¡¯s face.


    ¡¸Leave it to that jackass to get the girl I saw first!¡¹ He clenched his fist as he turned away from Mieko and Lucy, back slouched and shoulders rounded in defeat.


    Just as Mieko was about to tap him on the shoulder, Lucy managed to stutter out her realization.


    ¡¸You know Mister Kamoi? Wait, you¡¯re the drunk man from the izakaya!¡¹ Lucy¡¯s voice raised as it hit her, finger shooting towards Touma, Kazuma¡¯s childhood friend, as he turned around with a smile.


    ¡¸Yep, that¡¯s me! Micchan, hey, he¡¯s having his girl call him Mister Kamoi? He''s into that, huh?!¡¹ He couldn¡¯t help but bellow out a laugh, causing some of his patrons¡¯ heads to turn in surprise.


    ¡¸Lu-chan, what do you mean drunk? And wait, you know Touma already?¡¹ Grabbing Lucy''s hands in between her own, Mieko¡¯s eyes were as wide as saucers.


    ¡¸Yeah, he was with Kazuma on the day we first met. They were all drinking.¡¹ Lucy rolled her eyes, cheeks beginning to burn up at Touma¡¯s earlier statement. ¡¸And I¡¯m not with him!¡¹


    ¡¸Uh¡­¡¹ Mieko looked around the street warily as even more people began to stare after Lucy¡¯s sudden outburst. ¡¸Lu-chan, let¡¯s quiet down, hm? Touma! Do you know where Ryu-kun is?¡¹


    ¡¸One second, princess!¡¹ Touma grinned, a mischievous glint overtaking his usually benevolent smile.


    ¡¸Hey, Ryusuke! Your girlfriend is here, come on out!¡¹ With a turn of his head, Touma¡¯s voice carried all the way to the back of the shop, startling some elderly patrons in its wake.


    ¡¸Eep! ¡®Girlfriend¡¯?¡¹ Mieko¡¯s hands tore away from Lucy and shot up to her cheeks.


    ¡¸That¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about?¡¹ Lucy scanned the ever-changing crowd of passersby tossing them suspicious and questioning stares.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    She recalled another one of Kazuma¡¯s rather personal remarks.


    It¡¯s not just me, Mieko also has to be especially careful about where she is seen, and who she is with. Please, I ask you to do your due diligence when you two are out together.


    On one of the days the two of them were making their way back towards the Hampton¡¯s house after an afternoon of meetings, their conversation had somehow turned towards Mieko and the twisted rules society expected a woman of her standing to follow. It was frowned upon to be outside for over a certain amount of time, to mingle outside your class, to befriend the opposite sex without parents¡¯ approval, and despite all of this Mieko was standing outside of a rusty fish market, waiting for some fishy boy she clearly fancied.


    ¡¸Are you sure Kazuma¡­and your dad are okay with this?¡¹ Lucy whispered towards Mieko, biting her lip as Touma and a younger man ran back to greet them. It was a stupid question. Lucy already knew the answer - if Kazuma knew Lucy followed Mieko to meet this ¡°Ryu-kun,¡± he¡¯d be furious.


    ¡¸So long as Touma doesn¡¯t say anything about Ryu-kun, we¡¯re golden.¡¹ Mieko winked before trotting up to Ryusuke, a young man who couldn¡¯t have been any older than Lucy.


    ¡¸Ryu-kun, it¡¯s been a while, huh¡¹¡± Lacing her hands behind her back, Mieko was beaming as she flashed Ryusuke a dazzling smile.


    ¡¸Y-yeah, it has¡­¡¹ Ryusuke placed a hand behind his neck, face flushed beet red and eyes darting between their group of four and the crowds streaming in and out of the shop.


    ¡¸No worries, Kazu¡¯s not here to rip your head off!¡¹ Touma exclaimed while giving Ryusuke a pat on the shoulders. ¡¸I won¡¯t rat you out either, ya got my word!¡¹


    With a fist over his chest, Touma gave the group one last smile before another hoard of children banging on tanks forced him back into the shop. ¡¸You damn pains, if ya ain¡¯t buying get a move on!¡¹


    Touma gave a sheepish bow towards the two girls, Mieko now a laughing mess while Lucy shook her head.


    ¡¸He¡¯s so loud, sorry about that.¡¹ He bowed again before taking a quick glance towards Lucy.¡¸A friend of yours, Micchan?¡¹


    ¡¸Yes, Kazuma¡¯s helping her family get settled! They¡¯re from America, it¡¯d have been nice if Touma stuck around so I could explain¡­¡¹


    Placing her hands on her hips, Mieko¡¯s heart pounded in her ears as Ryusuke smiled down at her, a wayward chunk of black hair plastered to his sweaty forehead.


    ¡¸America! Wow, well any friend of Mieko¡¯s is a friend of mine!¡¹ He gave Lucy a nod before gathering all of his attention back towards Mieko.


    The young man hung on to Mieko¡¯s every word as they chattered on about various pleasantries. Lucy gladly accepted the gift of solitude and stood by a table of shrimp, watching the pair from afar.


    Lucy decided that she liked Ryusuke. Anyone who regarded Mieko in such high esteem, and not to mention anyone who didn¡¯t make a massive spectacle out of a foreigner, was a winner in her books.


    No wonder Kazuma can¡¯t stand him.


    Lucy snorted and shook her head.


    Ryusuke¡¯s a gentleman without the smoke and mirrors.

 58: Eliza OHalloran

    After a few moments and a final flirtatious giggle from Mieko, their rendezvous came to an end as Touma¡¯s ragged yelling signaled for Ryusuke to return to his post.


    ¡¸See you later!¡¹ Mieko waved with a perfect whip of her hair, turning away from Ryusuke with a blush and leading Lucy back onto the street.


    ¡¸Well, that was something.¡¹ Lucy nudged Mieko¡¯s side as the two spun around to retrace their steps.


    ¡¸He¡¯s such a nice guy!¡¹ Mieko whined. ¡¸You know, sometimes his shop prepares the food for my father¡¯s gatherings! That¡¯s actually how we met when we were kids!¡¹


    Lucy couldn¡¯t help but smile as Mieko practically danced her way up the street, humming and beaming with every step she took.


    It was obvious Mieko fancied Ryusuke, and Kazuma and her father were the impenetrable hurdles blockading their friendship. Lucy held back a scowl as her small town brain tried to comprehend the stringent rules wealthy people had to follow. No matter which way she spun it, the whole thing was downright silly in Lucy¡¯s eyes - people with as much money as the Takaharas could afford to be with whoever they want!


    ¡¸But yeah.¡¹ Mieko sighed, kicking a stone in front of her as the pair stopped to peer into a small tea shop¡¯s window. ¡¸Sometimes I wish I could see him more, but I don¡¯t wanna have to choose between him or Kazuma and my dad. So this way is for the best, I guess, huh?¡¹


    Lucy was at a loss for words as Mieko lowered her gaze, tracing an indescribable pattern on the window glass with her eyes glossed over in thought.


    ¡°Oh! Well what do you know, if it isn¡¯t my star student!¡± Both girls froze as a chipper, English-speaking voice suddenly rang from the crowd.


    ¡°No way¡­¡± Mieko¡¯s somber frown quickly flipped into the happiest smile Lucy had ever seen grace her friend¡¯s face. ¡°Mrs. O¡¯Halloran!¡±


    Flipping her body towards the crowd in search of her beloved teacher, Mieko took Lucy¡¯s hand and ran up to a beaming red-haired woman.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Oh Mieko, it¡¯s so good to see you!¡± The woman cried, flinging her arms around Mieko while shooting Lucy a smile.


    Lucy¡¯s eyes were ready to pop out from her spinning head.


    Another American?


    Or at least, Lucy assumed she was American. She had quite the accent, practically singing her ¡°o¡¯s¡± and ¡°e¡¯s¡± everytime they came out of her mouth. Her messy bun of auburn curls struggled for freedom under her sunhat as she let go of Mieko, ruffling the younger girl¡¯s hair.


    ¡°Oh my, oh my, Mieko, who is this?¡± The woman¡¯s eyes remained focused on Lucy, their hazel hue bright with an endearing glimmer.


    ¡°This is Lucy! She¡¯s American too!¡± Mieko grabbed hold of Lucy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Lu-chan, this is my old tutor! Her name is Eliza, and she is much better than Mister Fosters.¡±


    With that cheeky compliment, Eliza broke into a fit of laughter. ¡°Hah! Now now, Mieko, Old Man Fosters is a stiff, but everyone deserves kindness, you know!¡± Eliza grabbed Lucy¡¯s hand for a shake.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t she a riot? Name¡¯s Eliza, it¡¯s great to meet ya, Lucy!¡±


    ¡°Likewise.¡± Lucy cracked a smile from ear to ear. Part of her was ecstatic to be making acquaintance with another American woman while the other half feared her hand would fly off after a few more shakes from Eliza¡¯s iron grip.


    ¡°Where are ya from?¡± Eliza¡¯s eyes were still glistening with enthusiasm and genuine interest as one hand rested on her hip, the other still holding onto Lucy.


    ¡°South Dakota, my family owned a farm. I moved here with my uncle.¡± Lucy stopped herself as her free hand curled its fingers around a lock of hair. Why was she giving away her life story to this woman?


    ¡°Hey, my family did some farming too! Well, a little garden, and it was mainly flowers, but hey! When you¡¯re an ocean away you gotta find some common ground when you can, eh? Anywho-¡± Eliza let go of Lucy¡¯s hand while she studied the younger woman''s face. Eliza was sad and confused to see her once-smiling eyes slowly clouding over with dullness and melancholy.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right.¡± Lucy forced another grin onto her face, fingers still intertwined with a bundle of curls. ¡°It¡¯s really nice to meet you as well. Where are you from?¡±


    ¡°Michigan!¡± Eliza exclaimed, regaining her bravado with her chin raised and chest puffed out in pride. ¡°Upper Peninsula, Saint Ignace! Great little place, but all birds have to fly the coop sometime!¡±


    Mieko¡¯s heart sang as her ears drank in Eliza¡¯s wonderful way with words. Her English accent was Mieko¡¯s absolute favorite, and her father¡¯s most despised.

 59: Church

    Mieko¡¯s heart sang as her ears drank in Eliza¡¯s wonderful way with words. Her English accent was Mieko¡¯s absolute favorite, and her father¡¯s most despised.


    ¡°Now I¡¯m here with family!¡± Eliza sang, pointing a finger to her chest and patting Mieko on the shoulder. ¡°I used to spend all my days with Mieko, but now I¡¯m a slave to my husband¡­¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± Mieko gasped, earning a giggle from Lucy as her eyes grew to a nearly comical size.


    ¡°Hah! Just a joke, just a joke,¡± Eliza shook Mieko¡¯s shoulder and gave Lucy a wink. ¡°We work at a church on the other side of town. His uncle¡¯s the priest! Say-¡±


    Eliza¡¯s eyes traveled down to inspect a small glimmering pendant atop Lucy¡¯s white blouse.


    A cross.


    ¡°Lucy, if you¡¯re interested, we could actually use some extra hands on Sundays! Let me know if you ever wanna come down to help out, eh!¡±


    ¡°Yes! Yes, I would love to,¡± The words flew out of her mouth before Lucy could truly comprehend what she was committing to. It had been ages since she went to church, and she was ready to burst with joy at the prospect of it becoming routine again.


    ¡°Great!¡± Eliza clapped her hands together. ¡°We¡¯re at Our Lady of Mercy near Umeda, if you¡¯re familiar with that area! And Mieko!¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Plopping her hand on Mieko¡¯s shoulder once again, Eliza¡¯s bubbly grin turned awry with curiosity. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you came down here for a secret date with Ryusuke, eh? When he gets back to Osaka, Kazuma¡¯s gonna have the poor boy¡¯s neck!¡± Her eyes widened as her hand traveled towards her mouth in feigned fear.


    While she and Lucy laughed, Mieko stomped her foot and nudged at Eliza¡¯s waist. ¡°He¡¯s already back, so if you see him don¡¯t. Say. Anything!¡±


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry Mieko, your secret¡¯s safe with me! Oop!¡± Bopping her head and reaching in her purse for her watch, Eliza pointed towards a small alley road brimming with nook and cranny shops. ¡°My mochi shop¡¯s gonna go on lunch in 20 minutes I¡¯m afraid, better get a move on! Mieko, it was great seeing you again! And Lucy, hope to meet you on a Sunday! Any one will do! Just pop on in¡±


    Lucy and Mieko waved as Eliza ran from their sight, her pocket watch dangling from her purse.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t she great?¡± Mieko sighed. ¡°She was the best teacher ever! To think Mister Fosters stole her job away, all because of her accent! Can you believe that?¡±


    ¡°Because of her accent?¡± Lucy crossed her arms. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound very fair.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s not fair! Not fair at all,¡± Mieko continued to whine as her cheeks puffed in annoyance.


    ¡°Kind of like your secret dates with Ryusuke, huh?¡± Unable to contain a smirk and a giggle, Lucy rubbed her chin in thought.


    ¡°Mhm- Wait, no! We¡¯re not dating!¡±


    ¡°Well it sure looks that way, and now I know it¡¯s not just me who thinks so-ow.¡±


    Mieko rammed a fist into Lucy¡¯s hip while the two turned towards one of their usual shops, one head turning after another as laughter traveled through the street.

 60: The Storm

    ¡°And then?¡± A glass raised to his lips, Mister Takahara took the final sip of his sake.


    ¡°Well, after going on about his family for what seemed like a century, I finally got some words in and he let me go without a scratch!¡± Kazuma stretched his arms behind his head. It was quite the task to recollect every mundane encounter forced upon him at the recent house party, and if he had it his way he would like to forget the night altogether.


    As Mister Takahara rubbed at his temple, a burst of thunder rumbled through the room.


    Kazuma¡¯s dog Mame darted from her cozy spot on her favorite cushion and straight into Kazuma¡¯s chest. With a stream of cries and whines, her black tail wagged in every direction, eventually flinging Mister Takahara¡¯s glass onto the floor.


    ¡°Agh! Damn it, Kazuma, I¡¯ve had that dog for three years, I don¡¯t want you dragging her back in here every time you come over!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because of the storm,¡± Kazuma shot back, his eyes staring daggers into the back of Mister Takahara who was now up and stumbling towards the wayward glass. ¡°I brought her because I knew Mieko wanted to see her.¡±


    Returning to his seat and banging the glass back on the table, Mister Takahara ran a hand through his hair.


    ¡°Enough of the dog, and enough of your jokes,¡± He pointed a hand towards Kazuma. ¡°About Sanae, I saw you take her into your study. What happened in there?¡±


    Kazuma¡¯s nerves were on edge as another round of lightning and thunder boomed over the house. He chuckled softly, one hand gently rubbing the top of Mame¡¯s quivering head.


    ¡°Nothing. I expressed my lack of interest.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡±


    Mister Takahara flew his body forward, hands gripping the edge of the table as his mouth twisted into a disgusted frown.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°This is a joke, surely!¡±


    ¡°I believe you explicitly told me no more jokes for the evening.¡± Kazuma held up his hands with a self-satisfied grin.


    Mister Takahara was at a loss for words. For three years, Sanae had been asking, pestering him about Kazuma every chance she had. Matchmaking session after matchmaking session, Sanae and her family had never failed to prefer Kazuma over any of the countless men competing for her hand.


    ¡°Do you have any idea what that girl, that family, has gone through?¡± The seering tone in Mister Takahara¡¯s voice caused a frightened Mame to bury her face in Kazuma¡¯s chest. ¡°Everything was laid out perfectly for you, and you threw it all away!¡±


    ¡°I told you, I have told everyone time and time again that I don¡¯t want to take a wife, much less someone from the Iwagami family.¡± Kazuma matched his superior¡¯s rage, banging a fist down on the table.


    ¡°Oh, but it¡¯s perfectly within your limits to toss one around on your bed for months on end.¡± Mister Takahara yelled back.


    That was the last straw for Kazuma. Hoisting Mame and his briefcase into his arms, he rose from his seat and without a sound, headed for the door.


    ¡°You really are still the same stupid little boy.¡± Mister Takahara poured himself another glass of alcohol, determined to have the last word. ¡°Take off the suit and jacket and you¡¯re still fit for the fish docks.¡±


    Kazuma left with a slam, briskly making his way towards the foyer and slipping on his shoes.


    ¡°Insufferable bastard.¡± Opening his umbrella and closing the door behind him, he grumbled under his breath as he placed Mame on the ground. Thankfully, the rain had lightened somewhat with no more thunder to be heard.


    While he reached in his bag for her lead, Mame was yet again a crying mess as her paws scratched against the wet and rocky pavement.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you start with me too.¡± Kazuma sighed, stooping down and fastening the lead around her neck as she licked at his hand. He smiled to himself, grateful that at least one creature in the world had no interest in pushing his buttons any further.


    He felt his cigarette box push against his leg as he knelt. For times just like this, Kazuma¡¯s pocket was locked and loaded with at least one of them.


    ¡°Arf arf arf!¡±


    Kazuma¡¯s lingering fingers tore away from the square outline jutting from his pant pocket as Mame¡¯s snout butted into his waist.


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Kazuma laughed and bopped her on the nose. ¡°None tonight, understood. At least for now. Hm, Hiro is just a few minutes away. Rain or shine, you could use some exercise, girlie. And I could use someone to complain to.¡±


    Kazuma stood up after a pat to Mame¡¯s head, and with one last glare towards the imposing home behind them, the pair started towards Hiro¡¯s office.

 61: Wet Paws

    Hiro placed a hand under his chin as the evening wind howled violently outside his window. He sighed to himself, losing his place in the formula that had engrossed him for the past hour.


    One hour.


    Turning towards the ticking clock on the wall behind him, he felt his stomach tie itself into more and more knots with every dong and ding the wretched contraption rang out.


    His wife was going to be livid by the time he was able to return home, and he had already accepted that there would be no warm dinner waiting for him at the rate this numbers project was going.


    I suppose yakitori for yet another night won¡¯t be so bad.


    With one last glance at the clock, he turned back towards his work table, eyes straining under the faint light provided by one small kumiko lantern and a candle by the window.


    As the toll of the endless day of meetings suddenly weighed upon his shoulders, he allowed himself to lay his head on the cold desk, imagining the slight cushion of paper stacks to be his pillow from home.


    Just a few moments, and then I¡¯ll put an end to this blasted-


    ¡¸Arf, Arfarfarf!¡¹


    As soon as Hiro found peace within himself to indulge in his five-minute nap, he flung open his eyes to catch an all-too-familiar man with a chubby sausage of a dog banging on his window with a punchable smile.


    ¡¸Agh! K-Kazuma, what the hell!¡¹ Hiro nearly fell off his stool as papers went flying in all directions, arms flailing in surprise and glasses falling off his nose.


    ¡¸Hah!¡¹ If Hiro could hear Kazuma¡¯s self-satisfied howls from behind the streaky sheet of glass, he could only imagine the neighbors who would begin swearing him out in a matter of seconds.


    ¡¸Damn it.¡¹ Picking up his glasses from the floor and running to unlock the front door, Hiro felt the veins in his temple twitch as he undid the latch. ¡¸Would you shut up! Do you want the police to shut me down!? Ah-!¡¹


    Before Kazuma could crack a joke, Mame strutted into the office, dirty paws and all while jumping up Hiro¡¯s pant leg.


    ¡¸Mame, Mame, give our generous host some space!¡± Kazuma couldn¡¯t help but laugh again, scooping his canine friend into his arms and looking Hiro up and down. ¡¸My friend, you look horrible! Goodness, If I hadn¡¯t known any better, I¡¯d take you for a corpse back from the dead.¡¹


    ¡¸Shut up! I wasn''t expecting any company, now tell me what you want!¡¹


    Hiro groaned as Kazuma threw his jacket on a coat rack, kicking off his shoes and plopping onto a sofa beside Hiro¡¯s desk. It appeared this was going to be a long visit.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡¸Oh, can¡¯t old friends drop in unannounced from time to time?¡¹ Kazuma scratched under Mame¡¯s chin, taking a handkerchief from his vest pocket to wipe her dampened paws.


    Catching Hiro¡¯s strained gaze from his spot across the room, Kazuma decided to grant the poor man some relief. ¡¸Don¡¯t worry, she won¡¯t make your floor a mess. Look, she''s squeaky clean!¡¹ He held up Mame¡¯s front paws to display the proof before setting them on the floor.


    ¡¸Yes, wonderful.¡¹ Hiro scoffed, taking the seat next to Kazuma as Mame snuggled up on top of Kazuma¡¯s feet. ¡¸If you¡¯re out this far from home at such an hour, I¡¯m guessing you just came from the Takahara house?¡¹


    ¡¸Unfortunately.¡¹ Leaning his head back against the sofa¡¯s wooden frame, Kazuma debated with himself whether or not to unload his troubles.


    Begrudgingly, he thought it best to continue as Hiro hummed and tapped his foot expectantly.


    ¡¸Are you happy in your marriage, Hiro?¡¹


    ¡¸Eh?¡¹


    Among all the possible things Kazuma could have barged into his office for, an interrogation about his love life was certainly not at the top of Hiro¡¯s list.


    ¡¸Let me guess.¡¹ Hiro drawled as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. ¡¸He went off on you about Miss Iwagami?¡¹


    ¡¸I don¡¯t understand what the big deal is!¡¹ Kazuma threw his arms above his head. ¡¸We were both in agreement that what we had was casual, she never once mentioned marriage, or a family, nothing.¡¹


    ¡¸But it¡¯s foolish of you to solely rely on her words, Kazuma, she was surely thinking of it.¡¹ Accepting the fact that he would not be leaving for a meal any time soon, Hiro loosened his collar and stood up, walking over to a book shelf that also hid a bottle of sake and some glasses.


    ¡¸Then for heaven''s sake, how about saying it out loud for both parties to hear! I¡¯m not a mind-reader.¡¹ Kazuma cried as Mame barked in agreement.


    ¡¸Arf!¡¹


    ¡¸I¡¯m also surprised Mister Takahara let you bring your dog in. Or did Mieko sneak her away from him?¡¹ Hiro rubbed at his neck as another hand carefully filled two glasses.


    ¡¸Heh, the poor girl, I walked out before she could even see her.¡¹ Reaching down to scratch behind Mame¡¯s ear, Kazuma now felt a pang of guilt at his brash exit. ¡¸After tearing my report apart, wringing me out about a fling from three years ago was the final straw. I¡¯m glad Mieko wasn¡¯t there to see it.¡¹ Kazuma took a glass from Hiro¡¯s outstretched hand with a nod.


    ¡¸She¡¯s grown since you left, Kazuma.¡¹ Hiro leaned his weight against the bookshelf, debating his next choice of words. ¡¸I understand your self-appointed duty to protect her from everything screwed up in the world, but-¡¹ He paused, rubbing the strained muscles behind his neck as he bit his tongue.


    ¡¸But what?¡¹


    Hiro shook his head. ¡¸It¡¯s nothing.¡¹


    ¡¸Please, please.¡¹ Kazuma chuckled as he downed his glass. ¡¸What¡¯s another bout of humiliation after the previous two hours¡¯ worth? Go on, go on.¡¹


    ¡¸Well, Mieko¡¯s not a kid anymore. I¡¯m afraid that sooner or later, there¡¯s going to be a man who will take your place as protector. Maybe now¡¯s a good time to start backing away.¡¹ Hiro had to collect his breath for a moment after the words slipped from his mouth. He was half-expecting Kazuma to haul off and slug him only for his unannounced friend to nod in agreement.


    ¡¸Always the voice of reason, Hiro.¡¹ Kazuma chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair.


    ¡¸Hmph.¡¹ Hiro scoffed, shrugging his shoulders while taking a sip from his glass. ¡¸Leading us back to the matter at hand, I still firmly suggest you find someone you yourself can protect and raise a family with. Whether or not that be Miss Iwagami, that¡¯s for you to decide.¡¹