Mizuno Ami was in the midst of a puzzling situation. Usually, she reveled in them. What could be better than seeing a problem or a question that made her really think over the solution? Even when said solution eluded her for days, the process of figuring out the answer was as much of a joy as actually reaching the conclusion.
Her quandary now, however, wasn't made anything she'd puzzled through before seem like child's play. There were so many variables and variations and ways it could end well, and more ways that it could end badly. Add to that the choice of which of all the possible endings was the one she wanted, which ones were good, which ones were bad. It made chaos theory seem like simple arithmetic.
So Ami sat and looked at her notebook, the exposed page covered in equations and notes, as were the pages before and after it. She had no need to write anything down at the moment, and when her mind was engaged in the solving of a problem, her hand had the propensity to doodle. Mostly lines and shapes, rarely coherent pictures, sometimes words. It was a pattern that was comforting, and interesting to look at when she reviewed. It was usually a sign that she was thinking heavily, and therefore enjoying herself. So between the scribbles were what, in her distracted state, seemed like random angles and lines and noise. Written noise, chaotic as her thoughts, as the problem before her.
The enigma at hand wasn't academic, at least not completely (ha ha, she thought, a pun! Usagi would be proud.), it was that she seemed to have done something that she had never considered doing before. She had asked someone to study with her.
That in itself wasn't exactly puzzling, though. She'd studied plenty with other people, especially the other Scouts. They were all a joy to study with, in their own way. From Usagi's constant struggle to focus to Makoto's quiet nature. Even Minako, who could be quiet for long periods of time yet still interrupt with sudden, random thoughts, made study interesting.
Part of the quandary was, since she had an abundance of study partners, why did she choose another one? Minako and Usagi united together to ask this very question, and when she told them who the person was, looked at each other wide eyed and let out a happy sounding "squee". It had been embarrassing at the time, but she managed to distract them from asking an endless amount of questions. The looks they kept giving her were worrisome, however.
(Why did they make that sound every time boys were mentioned?)
She looked up, briefly, to see Omura Jaima sitting across from her, head bent over his book, taking notes in an untidy scrawl. It was typical of boys, she noticed, not to work on their penmanship, yet she could at least read it clearly (and upside down, if she focused). That was an improvement over Mamoru's, who's writing she'd spotted in one of Usagi's notebooks. Come to think of it, it was an improvement over Usagi's as well.
"OK, I don't get it," he said, quietly. His face was pinched. He also ducked his head, abashed. "I know you've explained it at least three times, but I just can't wrap my head around it."
Ami stood and circled the table, leaning over his shoulder. One hand rested on it, and though she saw his face begin to turn pink, she didn't say anything. In a way, she liked that, that she could maybe make a boy blush, but that was for herself, her secret pleasure.
(It would be nice to share them, once in a while.)
She pointed to the paper. "See, here? The variable is inverted."
"Gah," he muttered, erasing. He was no longer blushing. "Sorry." He looked up at her and smiled, and she smiled back, before pulling away. Only her control kept that gesture from becoming as suddenly frantic as she felt, because looking into his eyes, seeing him smile like he'd done several times since they started studying together, she realized that it was, in fact, a nice smile, and it made her happy to see it.
(Another variable. Another piece of the puzzle.)
She had finished the problems themselves, and even had reviewed the material, but even though Jaima was struggling a bit, she didn't feel impatient. It was a sort of contentment that she rarely felt, even though her idle mind turned to solving her puzzle, she still enjoyed the relative stillness.
When in doubt, her creed stated, review, and it seemed a good way not to get distracted by the smile. Her hand flowed smoothly, and in a tiny, distracted part of her mind, she noted that, usually, when going over complex mathematical or logical problems, her doodles were straight lines and square shapes, but now they were curved and rounded.
(Having figured that out, the distracted part of her mind that was no longer needed went back to the nice smile.)
She had first seen him when they had entered High School. He must have attended a different middle school, because she had never seen him there.
(Although, of course, I did spend much more time alone before I met Usagi.)
He seemed friendly, yet shy, and she could relate to that. She tried to encourage him with a smile now and then. It was nice, sometimes (usually) to be looked at in a way that didn't make her think that the person looking wasn't going to ask what the answer to question 35 was. It seemed she simply didn't have the aptitude for making friends that Usagi did.
(She briefly had a flash of Jaima being subjected to Usagi's methods of friend-making. It took a lot for her not to laugh out loud.)
It wasn't until she had stayed behind on a mission to monitor the area, the night the rest of the team didn't come back, that she'd been shown the true sense of what Jaima was. He approached her, nervously, but with such kindness that she couldn't help be glad that he was there. Then he'd shown kindness to others, and something had stirred in Ami, and she wanted to...
What?
That was the quandary. What did she want? Why did she feel as if she could trust this boy implicitly?
Her musings were interrupted by a sniff, coming from Jaima's direction. She looked up from her note pad (which, really, she hadn't been looking at as much as toward), to see Jaima's bright, blue eyes looking back at her, his brow slightly furrowed.
The sniff sounded again, and neither of them had moved. Jaima turned to see one of the children who had been consistently in the group he read to standing behind him, fumbling her fingers together.
"Hanae?" The girl tensed, but didn't look up. "What's the matter?"
The words came out of the little girl in a rush. "Mommy was supposed to pick me up, but she's not here yet, and I don't know what to do, because the library is big, and Mommy said to stay put, but she's not here, and Ms. Kashafumo came and turned out the lights in the ready area and said I have to go find my Mommy, but she's not here!" Ami was surprised that the girl didn't keel over.
"OK, slow down, kiddo," Jaima said smoothly. The little girl looked up at him with wide eyes, and he smiled at her softly. "Why don't you sit here with Ami and me, and we'll wait for your Mommy together, OK?" He looked at Ami, swallowing and blushing ever so slightly. "Ah, you don't mind, do you?"
"No," she said, smiling, "I don't mind."
Jaima pulled out the chair next to him and patted it. Hanae climbed into it and fidgeted, until Jaima ripped a blank piece of paper out of his own notebook and gave Hanae a pencil, asking if she'd like to draw. He was very gentle with the still nervous little girl, and Ami found herself smiling.
Squee.
Oh.
Oh!
She blinked, and then continued looking down at her notebook. They had covered all of the material, and Jaima seemed to have finished with his own problems, but silently they agreed to wait with Hanae. They didn't have to wait long, as her mother rushed into the library, sighing in apparent relief to see that she was safe.
"I'm so sorry," Hanae's mother said, approaching the table. "I was kept after work for an important meeting. My boss wouldn't take no for an answer..." Her face clouded briefly before she smiled at her daughter. "Come on, Hanae. Thank your friend."
The little girl hopped off of her chair, happy to see her mother, and bowed shortly to both Jaima and Ami. "Thank you for letting me sit with you," she said, before scampering after her mother. She had left the paper behind, and Jaima picked it up. With a small laugh, he showed it to Ami.
On it, in a child's typical scrawl, was a picture of a short haired girl, an long haired boy, and little girl between them. The boy was looking sideways at the short haired girl, and she was looking sideways at him.
"That is adorable," she said, feeling her face heat. Jaima smiled and put it on the table between them.
"Can I walk you home," he said, as he always did after study sessions. She nodded yes, as she almost always did. As they left, she picked up the drawing, placing it in her bag.
"Ami," Jaima said as they walked out the sliding doors.
"Yes, Jaima?"
He stayed silent for a short time, then said, "Would you like to go somewhere, um..." He nearly faltered, she could see his hand rise to wave the question away, and it made her, just a little, sad. But his hand stopped. "There's this place on my way home from school. Supposedly, it serves, and I quote, 'the best ice cream ever'." He bit his lower lip, but continued, straightening. He had an air of knowing he was hiding his real reason for asking, and was making his excuse as a small joke. "I really have to know if that's true, and... well... I need a second opinion. Would you come with me tomorrow?
Ami looked up at him as they walked. His cheeks were entirely too red, and that secret place inside her warmed. "It would be an interesting opportunity." He looked back at her, and they both looked forward, Ami's face now warming as Jaima's must have. "I would be delighted."
Later, when she looked back at her notebook in review, she came across the doodles that she had made before they had encountered the little girl. In between each line were two matching curves that looked like the beginning of a heart.
After contemplating erasing the page, a small sheet of paper fell out of the notebook, with the little girl's drawing, and she decided that, maybe, just maybe, a small part of the greater puzzle had already been solved.
A/N: Once again, this must be attributed to RadiantBeam's encouragement. I was very... nervous about posting this, but she convinced me that I should.
I think it should be known, I usually can't stand OC stories, but something about this guy really sings to me. Hopefully, he interests you as well with his lack of interesting qualities. .
I forgot to mention it in the last edition of this couple's story, but Kashafumo is a direct translation of "old hag". :D