Disclaimer: I do not own Shaman King or its characters.
The sound of the ticking clock echoed throughout the hallway of the elementary school. The sun was beginning to set, filling the white halls with hues of pink and lavender. Colors that were quite similar to the hair of the young woman who sat on the small bench outside of the principal's office. Her name was Tamao, age eighteen.
She had only graduated from high school a few months ago, and so she found it ironic that she was now waiting for a parent teacher conference yet again. The one big difference was that her discipline problems were not the subject of this conference; it was her ward's.
The door to the office creaked open, and a mousy woman poked her head out.
"Hana Asakura," the woman called. Tamao let out a sigh, causing the mousy woman to give her a surprised look. "Are you here for Hana Asakura?"
"Let's get this over with," Tamao groaned, standing.
The woman leaned away tentatively, as she studied the pink haired eighteen year-old. Then she cleared her throat.
"O-Oh. Yes," she stuttered. "Why don't you come inside? I will go bring the student."
Then the woman rushed down the hall, leaving the principal's door open. Tamao cautiously entered the room. She had been in too many meetings regarding conduct to relax. A neatly put together woman sat at the desk at the head of the room, shuffling papers. Around her sat shelves full of picture books and stuffed animals. The woman looked up from her papers with a warm smile.
"Hello," the woman chimed. "I'm Ms. Himeji. How can I help you?"
Tamao felt her whole body stiffen, but forced herself to smile back. "I'm Tamamura Tamao. I'm here for the meeting about Hana."
"Oh," Ms. Himeji exclaimed, with a small laugh. "My apologies. I wasn't expecting you to be so young." She placed her papers at the corner of the desk and pulled a manila folder out of a drawer. Then she gestured to a plush chair in front of her. "Please, sit. And you are his…?"
"Guardian," Tamao answered quickly and took a seat.
"And how did that happen?" the woman behind that desk asked, a strange look in her eyes. "Not to pry too much. It would just be helpful to know Hana's background."
Tamao wasn't sure if it was because of the fact that this woman was a principal or the uncomfortable sense of judgment that was slowly filling the air, but she did not like this woman. However, she once again forced herself to look pleasant. "Of course."
Ms. Himeji gave her an expectant nod, and Tamao straightened up.
"Right," Tamao began. "Well I'm a very close friend of his parents, so when they had to move abroad for work, they asked me to take him in."
"And how long have you taken care of him by yourself?" Ms. Himeji asked, her eyebrows raised.
Yes. Tamao definitely didn't like this woman, but she cleared her throat and continued.
"It will be three years now."
"Interesting…" the principal mused. Then she flipped open the manila folder and opened her mouth to continue.
"I didn't raise him alone," Tamao cut in. "A friend and employee helped me."
This caused the woman's eyebrows to nearly reach the top of her forehead. Damn, Tamao wanted to slap that woman.
"Employee?"
"Yes. I run an establishment on the edge of town. Funbari Onsen," Tamao answered confidently. "Perhaps you've heard of it."
"You run it?"
"Yes. Hana's parent's the owner."
"Oh," the Ms. Himeji grumbled, returning to the manila folder. "I think I have a clear sense of where he comes from now."
The woman then smoothed her hair back and began writing notes on one of the papers. Tamao and the woman sat in silence for a few moments as the woman scribbled down notes. Tamao looked around the room nervously. She hated dealing with schools. What if this woman was going to call child protective services?
What had she gotten herself into, taking on a child at the age of fifteen? If Hana's parents couldn't do it, what made them think she could? Yeah, she loved Hana, but was she a good parent? What if she was doing something wrong?
No. Tamao finally decided this woman was just being harsh. This principal had been judging her from the second she walked in the door, just like her high school principal had years before.
"Look," Tamao said dryly, cutting through the silence. "If you have a problem with his 'background' just come out and say it."
Ms. Himeji looked up at her, eyebrows knit in confusion.
"Ms. Tamamura. I don't know-"
Suddenly there was a scream from down the hall. Ms. Himeji frowned and went to the doorway. There was another scream, and the mousy woman from before came bolting through the door, her hair tangled and a fresh bruise forming on her calf.
"That child's a monster," the woman panted.
Tamao stood and peered past the two women standing in the doorway to find the source of the commotion. Hana Asakura, in all his five year-old glory, stood in the middle of hallway armed with a ruler. The sandy haired boy looked way too proud of himself.
Tamao wanted to crumple up and die. She had just challenged the principal for judging his background, and here the little psycho was brandishing a ruler like it was a katana. He really had done something horrible. But at the same time, that woman had called her son a monster.
The principle buried her face in her hands in obvious frustrated.
"This is why I called you here," came the muffled response. "He's hit twelve different people now."
"And he was lying to all the kids about ghosts," added the bruised woman.
Tamao stared at the battered woman in disbelief. So that is what it was all about.
The principal wiped her eyes and stepped into the hallway. She scrunched up her face to yell, but Tamao placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head, causing her to stop and give the young woman a confused look. Then Tamao took a deep breath and strode out into the hallway. The small boy's smile faded.
Hana dropped the ruler and began bolting in the opposite direction.
"No Tengu!" he screamed.
"Hana Asakura!" Tamao bellowed. "You get your butt back here this instant!"
The boy froze.
"Now!"
The boy bowed his head and trudged over to the three women. Tamao took his hand and looked back at the principal and mouse-woman. They both stared back at her in awe.
"Hana," she said, never breaking their eye contact. "What do you have to say to them?"
The boy looked up the principal then back at the ground.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
"That good?" Tamao asked.
The two women slowly nodded, faces pale.
"I'll make sure he never does it again," she whispered coolly. "But don't you ever call my child a monster again." She then raised her voice back up to a normal speaking level. "We'll be going now."
Then Tamao and Hana left, without another word from either the principal or her assistant.
As she dragged the boy home, she couldn't help but smile. Something about the way that those women's jaws dropped made her feel vindicated. Why? Because it was clear that she, Tamao, age eighteen, was no longer a child; she was a hardcore, rocking mom.
After that day Tamao wasn't called in for another single conference… well… that is, until Hana accidentally killed the class hamster…
But that is a story for another day.