Being a teacher is hard. Grading papers, guiding kids, respecting your seniors, respecting your juniors, respecting your students and not getting the respect you deserved. Sadayo Kawakami quietly graded the papers for the first-semester mid-term exams without a shred of smile on her face. The lonely tune of an old radio playing a traditional piece rang throughout the lunch break of Shujin High's Faculty Office.
Chattering teachers were present in their own tables. In their hands were pen and papers being graded and they cannot leave until every business they had were finished the same day. The administrations would demand their collective asses if even a single slip of paper were to go missing by some unforeseen mishaps. That would mean another salary cuts, and Kawakami weren't going to sail a sinking ship if she could help it.
Sighing, Kawakami returned by picking the top of the stack of paper by her right. "Takamaki's doing good..." she read, taking away the slight desire to flee from this educational establishment as soon as she can. Humming could be heard from Kawakami's seat as signed papers were set aside one by one, until it suddenly stopped. There was one more paper to grade, which belonged to: "Akira Kurusu," she paused.
Her pen stopped mid-air, suspended by three of Kawakami's right fingers. The thumb and the pinky spun around with her wiggling hand, not sure what she was about to be doing with the piece of paper in her hand. Why should she grade this man? She thought.
Professionalism was the one thing that kept her moving past this small hurdle and the other thing being her conscience. Skipping on grading a test would be her second unbecoming of a teacher. Kawakami truly felt that and meant it. Creaking, the chair moved as Kawakami fell silent. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
It was out of spite for the troublemaking transfer student. Something that a teacher shouldn't be doing. Excuses could be made and framing the boy as a delinquent who deserved no sympathy would be as easy as turning a sheet of paper. If she framed a delinquent, there will be no harm that would befall her so why shouldn't she be afraid to do just that?
At the end of the day, the name Akira Kurusu on said test sheet was given a big red flower.
Being a maid is hard. The maid needs to clean good, cook good, walk the pets good, dress the food good, service the customers good, accept the gifts from customers and replying with the cutest, clumsiest, most contradicting "Thank you, Master (heart)" with the sweetest tone of voice they could range their throat to without puking even a little inside her mouth.
It was harder than people made it sound.
Sadayo Kawakami bowed from the home of a fat and greasy man that waved her goodbye while his nose was breathing hard. Biting her lips, she forced herself a composed stance, gave him her usual business smile, and said goodbye until the next 5000 yen went into her slip. "I'll be going now, Master." Who in their right mind would be the maid of a creepy weirdo like him voluntarily?
The maid left the apartment room. Greeting her outside was a security officer tipping his hat and giving her a frown. Becky could see that she was unwanted loitering the clean hall of Ichiyama Apartment Complex. Of course an on-call maid would be viewed as devious when she came out from a room of a respected individual. Room 503 of East Hall was rented by a man who was the son of a distinguished company president in Japan.
What would happen to a young woman like her in this dead of a night at this kinds of place? The building itself looked nice, but could it hid nicer things inside? Doubtful. Evidence of the young adult constantly giving her his gifts and tips her every time she visited would suffice. Thinking that his maid was such an easy woman was a disgrace for Kawakami, but she couldn't do much against him in such circumstances. Every gifts she got were quickly pawned at the nearest thrift stores or second-hand stores and the tips she received would go straight into her pocket without her looking back or at it. If her pocket will be full with those kinds of money, it might as well be empty.
Another exhausting end for the night should be good, but the life of a "delivery health" maid (whatever that means) such as her were always cluttered with calls from her customers. Kawakami opened the last of her call, tracing the names as to not confuse the client's name for her boss' name. A smile formed on her face. Thank all the goodness that she could retire after this one job.
"Good evening, Master."
The black-haired master replied to her on-call maid from his brown-colored sofa. "Good evening, Miss Kawakami."
"No, no, Master," Becky insisted. "When I'm a maid, my name is Becky! You're such a forgetful guy! We've been meeting like this for... what three months now and you still couldn't remember my name? Shame on you, meow."
Akira chuckled.
"How's your sister?"
"Sister?" Kawakami stopped in her place, blankly looking at Akira who then raised his eyebrow. The maid suddenly realized what her master meant and quickly shifted her gears. "Oh, yeah, she's doing super great. Her medical fee is coming by steadily. Especially when it's coming from you, Master. Thank you for your loyal patronage. It made Becky super happy."
"That's good," Akira nodded. "Hope she'll get better soon.
"You bet it is, and I bet she will," Becky giggled dryly. "Now, let's get to cleaning shall we?"
Picking up the broom, the maid swept the floorboards side-to-side and into the corner. The dusts and scraps were scooped up and dumped into the press trash bin. As she swept, she commented about how chic the run-down room looked like through her eyes. Old floorboards just waiting to snap in two, dilapidated wall paint, cobwebs that seemed to be renewed with each of her visits. Basically things she didn't need to clean.
And so the maid named Becky sat on the bed of Akira Kurusu before toppling herself like a tipped stack of children play blocks. Her defenseless figure had laid herself sprawled on top of a teenage boy's bed. She could think of three hundred million ways of why it was not the best thing to do, but she didn't care.
Who gave a damn about yourself when others won't give you a single damn? With frustrations and tiredness in her mind, she dreamed about something truly unpleasant. Something that had chased her every time she went and every time she moved even just the tip of her finger. Becky shook unnoticed on the bed of Akira, the person himself was sitting on the sofa, either not gutsy enough to look or was too chaste to not look at the defenseless sleeping posture of his homeroom teacher.
Another ten minutes, thought Akira as the clock ticked the ten minutes in time. Just another ten minutes to go.
Yawning, Sadayo Kawakami woke up from Akira Kurusu's bed. She wasn't refreshed nor was she awake enough to tackle another living moment of her life. However, she took a deep breath and flashed a smile at the boy sitting on the sofa. Kawakami knew that the boy had been trying to eye her in her sleep. His reaction toward her slightly disheveled maid look perked her intuition. Students will be students, she guessed, not like it had never happened before. In her line of work, there would always be weirdos with strange fetishes she would rather not hung or delve into too much. Maintaining her vacant smile, the maid bowed to signal the stay farewell. "Thank you for letting me sleep, Master. I'll see you later okay?"
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Don't worry, Master. I'm fine! Thank you for your concern though. I greatly appreciate it."
Akira nodded in defeat.
He couldn't persuade her to stay another minute to rest.
"Well, Master. If you need something from me again, just call okay?" the empty smile persisted throughout the conversation. "See you then." The maid turned toward the stairs and the wooden floor creaked nine times.
Being a teacher is hard. Managing the school festival, scolding her students, getting scolded by their parents, attending the PTA meeting on a regular basis, being constrained into a set of ridiculous standards that must be followed, not speaking out of line, speaking for those who cannot attend, and speaking for yourself. Sadayo Kawakami began grading the mid-term papers of the second term with big black bags under her eyes. The jobs she was doing her bests at were starting to take the toll out of her. She was on edge, anxious, and fearful of what will be happening next. But even so, she reached out for the next paper to be graded.
It's all going to be fine, escaped a thought.
"Takamaki," she paused. She took a deep breath and let her hands loosen. She was holding the papers too tight and her head was filled with dangerous thoughts. After stopping to stretch her back, she calmly sat a nice position on her swivel chair and returned on grading the papers. One by one the thoughts of her students came flowing into her mind.
Calling the student's name with each success in grading the questions gave her face of drought a small oasis to settle her worries. Her smile quickly widened with each slips of papers. She kept going with more energy and vigor, until she stopped at the first person she collected from and the first person to collect their answers in. "Akira Kurusu," the teacher mumbled. "What a strange fate we shared with each other."
Kawakami ended her day with a big smile after writing down a flower in red ink.
Being a maid is hard. Cleaning the toilet, brushing clothes, sitting close to their master as they demand that they're to be accompanied, watching movies in the dark with a pervert, being toyed and eyed without being able to fight back, being fed with dirty lies and talked in the most disgusting way by her employers. She quietly hid her urge to sigh as she went out of room 704 from West Hall. This time, it was a corrupt politician that had called her. If she had remembered correctly, the man was supposed to be on house arrest from committing a felony he was accused of being a part of. Now Kawakami knew that he was undeniably guilty of what he was charged with, despite not having the evidence to prove it.
It took her quite the effort, however, to travel all the way to Leblanc.
Becky walked upstairs and met with her young high-school master for the third time this month. Akira thought that she had cancelled their appointment at the last minute. The first day of autumn had just passed them by. The room where Akira Kurusu would sleep the night in was undeniably clean. She could tell from a glance that even if she tried to look for specks of dusts in the most clichéd places she wouldn't find any.
The tables were clean with the equipment polished and laid out and stacked nicely. The bed was freshly made and she could distinguish the high-schooler's way of folding the sheets. He would always fold the sheet and arrange them to have a 45 degrees angle alongside a crooked lining of the mattress. The single pillow on the bed had nary a stain and its cover was changed.
Permeating through the spacious room was a scent of apple freshener. Knowing that she couldn't clean any better than her master, she quietly stared to emptiness. Looking around her clear surrounding, she laid the broom she brought beside Akira's work-desk. Locating that her master was sitting on the couch again Becky dropped all pretenses and crashed her tired body onto his bed. It made a loud noise as the floorboards behind it seemed to be trying their best to support his maid's weight.
Her master stood up, and Kawakami stretched out a hand toward him palms open.
"Stay right there. I'll be fine if you give me a few minutes."
"You don't look fine to me."
Of course she didn't, but worrying her master wasn't in her job description. Doubly so and more severe if she made a student worry for her. Smiling was the only thing Becky could do, though Kawakami couldn't force herself into it.
Her whole body was aching and hurting all over. Sheer willpower was the only reason that a body as weak as Kawakami's could possibly move the way it did. The maid opened her eyes and peeked through the gap of her elbows at the man crouching at her bedside. A hand was outstretched toward the man's warm cheek, and with said contact she smiled. "Master," a sweet voice called. "You don't need to worry about me because I'm fine. Believe me, alright meow?"
Akira slowly caught her hand in his, letting her soft palm remain on his cheek. "I can't leave you alone like that!"
His voice was clear and it rang inside her ears. Kawakami winced at that exact moment and pulled away her hand as fast as she could. Kawakami's eyes were wide open, looking straight toward Akira's. Only her voice could salvage her relationship with Akira, as the border should never be crossed. But a lump in her throat forced her outcry back into her mind. Nothing came out but an inaudible protest that made Akira's stare deeper into her heart.
Quicker than his maid could react, the boy caught her hand again and held it with both of his hands. "I won't let you go this time!" her master stood with his head looking down on his maid. Though he appeared strong, he knew that his knees were shaking and his eyes were wavering and at the verge of tears. His hands, though calm, was slowly building up sweat and becoming colder. "Please, Kawakami. Stay."
"Thank you, Akira-kun." The bed creaked once more. What did she expect from this weird master of her? She was really a hopeless romantic. Her face was starting to flush and she couldn't help but let some of the hues escape to her cheeks. From the sight of Akira's desk finally back to the man's eyes himself, she pushed the man lightly. "But we can't. I can't. You should not be going after me. You are my student. I am your teacher. Don't forget about such things so easily next time."
The hands that caught hers tightened their grips and the maid felt a strong pain from her hands. Wincing in pain, the maid knew what Akira's face looked like. Sighing, she smiled and powerlessly removed each of the fingers that chained her in place. Like breaking apart a clam-shell with a bare hand, Kawakami's struggle was useless.
"Then let me tell you something, Akira-kun," Kawakami began in her weakened state of self. "If you know I'm such a terrible person, you might not be able to love me the way you thought about me before." A smile adorned his maid's face, and he knew he should be listening. "The reason why I took this job."
Akira stopped, but her hands were still in his.
"Where do I begin," Kawakami ducked to cough before resuming. "First off, I have to make clear the fact that I don't have a sister. Secondly, I went into the maid business to pay for an "apology" to someone." Akira raised an eyebrow, still quiet. "To keep things simple, let's start from when I was a teacher at a school before I moved to Shujin. I used to be taking care of a student similar to you: Troublemaker, a loner, thought to be a delinquent by everyone," she giggled. "But what everyone said was different than the reality. Takase Takei was a hardworking man. As he went to school, he was also taking various part-time jobs to cover his basic necessities. Both of his parents died, you see, and he was adopted by his uncle and aunt who was, to say the least, bad people. As time went on I became fond of him and began supporting him. I was tasked to tutor him by the previous school's board of education. At first, I was in total opposition to them, but as time went on... yeah, he's a good kid who cared about his future and want to grasp it with his own hands."
Nodding, Akira stayed in silence as Kawakami continued.
"Master, what would you think if I said that I am a murderer?"
His master shot up. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape.
"I don't blame you if you're surprised," sighing, she continued. "You see... I killed Takei-kun. Surprise, surprise." Like being startled by a sudden thunder, Akira froze in place and continued to stare at nothingness as Kawakami continued. "That's right, Takei was dead and I think I'm the reason he died. I was supposed to be a teacher, but I abandoned my student because of my indecision, the indecision that costed me everything. My career, my freedom, my own self." Kawakami fell silent as she bit her lips and a sniffle escaped out of her. Her breathing became irregular, almost hyperventilating. Her face was on the verge of being a mess, from the welling up tears and snot she was trying to keep in check. "Takei was having fun when I tutored him. His grade went up and he was starting to look a lot less than a delinquent, but the board of education didn't want this to go any longer. They want me to stop tutoring him and I did. Now... Takei-kun is dead, and I'm still trying to apologize for my mistake."
"But that wasn't your mistake!"
"Perhaps, but this pain in my chest is real."
"So that's why you're taking this job. You need the money to pay an apology money to the Takase, right?" Akira's hands tightly clutch Kawakami's. His eyes were burning with vigor, his desire to protect her was rising. "You know this isn't the right way, you shouldn't be doing this."
"Wow, Master," Kawakami giggled in-between sniffles. "You're so sharp it's scary. But I can't stop now. I don't know what I should do to be honest."
"You can start by stopping. Do you think Takei would have you apologize this way?"
"I don't know."
"Miss Kawakami, you've been deceived."
"Maybe I am, but I'm not in a position to refuse or to escape from my responsibility. I need to apologize the best I can." A power suddenly surged from Kawakami's hands. "I need to apologize to him, Akira. So please, forget this ever happened and let me do my job and earn my money."
Akira opened his mouth.
He wanted to shout at his maid.
But nothing came out.
It was only an empty call and a lump that formed in his throat.
There were many things that transpired in Akira's mind at this point, but the best thing he could do was to let her hands go.
The maid fell in silence. She wiped her tears from her eyes and sucked in the snot inelegantly. He shrugged the whole issue afterward by laughing softly. It was a sad giggle that made Akira clenched his hands as if they were digging deeply into his palms' skin and were now bleeding. He was shaking before Kawakami, but silent.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't need to be, Master."
"If you're ever in trouble, I'll come see you."
"Thanks."
The snow will become more common with each passing weeks, until the streets started to pile up with them. Under her umbrella, the teacher looked into the gray sky above Tokyo that trickled their sadness with her. Yet Kawakami found that prose she had taught to her student amusing in her present situation. Even with the rapid pace of seasonal change, Klaxons blared in the crossing and her eyes opened wide instantly. Kawakami began walking across, but she felt that she wasn't moving forward. The crossing stopped in place and with that, her motion.
She was moving, but at the same time did not.
Maybe Akira was right. Maybe she should stop with all of this nonsense. It didn't benefit her in any way at all and Takei-kun wouldn't want her to stoop so low as to moonlight as a maid at night. She was, at this point, had discarded her duty as a teacher and only doing the bare-bones minimal work that was expected of her position. If words would get out that she was doing part-time job and of such variety at that, it would be putting it lightly if all hell would break loose. She will, and this is putting it lightly, lose everything.
She was walking forward, right?
Her feet just wouldn't comply to her request.
It was a cold day.
Her body was getting hotter with each passing seconds.
Her mind was hazy.
She should just sleep.
"Are you one of her student? Thank you for coming at such a short notice. Please, stay for a while. She will recover soon."
Noisy. From her ears alone she could discern the head-splitting beeping of a machine. Her body felt sluggish and her muscles felt strained. She was laid on a soft surface, a mattress she guessed, and her right arm was constantly in small but sharp pain. No guesses were needed to discern an IV had been injected into her vein.
Her eyes opened slowly.
Blurring vision slowly becoming clearer.
To her right: nothing.
To her left: a miserable student.
"You finally woke up," she heard a sniffle. "Good evening, Miss Kawakami."
"Hey there, busybody," her small laughter echoed through the resting room. "Sorry that you had to come here, but I'm fine now." She had eyed the basket of fruits before, and pointed a finger toward it. She was not trying to pick anything specifically, but there were only apples and bananas. She might not be able to eat something sour, but Kawakami thought those apples are more on the sweeter side, her favorite side, of the spectrum. "How about you eat one of those fruits with me before you went home? I'm in a real mood for apples right now, how about you?"
Akira shook his head.
"Not in the mood for apples, huh? Then..." from the basket Kawakami picked up a banana and held it out for her student. She was the one who was sick, but she was the one humoring a worried sick student instead. She wouldn't exactly call it an irony, but it was at least amusing to her. "You haven't eaten yet, right? At least eat this banana if you don't want to eat the apples."
The same response was met.
"Kurusu," called the woman suddenly. Her glare toward him was worth a thousand knifes. "Eat. The. Fruits."
"Yes ma'am."
"Good boy," Kawakami flashed a big grin. "You're still growing you know. In a few years you're going to get taller, muscular, and will probably find the love of your life. I know you'll be a fine man someday, despite you having a criminal record. Although, maybe having a criminal record would make girls be easily drawn toward you instead. Many do love the mysterious type." Rubbing her arm, Kawakami looked to the side and forced out a long laugh. Looking at Akira's eyes were impossible right now. Her face made a wrinkle and the previously big grin had turned into a smile directed to the stainless sheet. "This is probably as far as we can go here, so... let me be honest with you Akira-kun. Could you please stop doing this? You know I'll get mad if you keep this up, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know well what I mean, Akira. I want you to stop this infatuation you have with me. I can't possible live knowing that I'm dragging my student through mud to take care of someone like me. You have better things to do like study and get together with a woman your age. I know the rumors about you from the students you know. Takamaki and Makoto, maybe you know those two as your classmate and the student council president. Well, rumor has it that they are really close to you," she giggled. "Maybe I'm dealing with a playboy here? Regardless of that, Akira-kun, you shouldn't be this close to your teacher. You shouldn't be this close to me."
"Do you really mean that?"
Kawakami's eyes were filled with tears, some of them almost trickling down her cheeks.
"Of course I do!" the woman laughed. "Who in their right mind would want to have a relationship with someone like you? You're a selfish, possessive, impertinent brat! I never wanted our relationship to grow more than just business! You're being the biggest nuisance in my life right now and I want you to stop loitering constantly in my mind. Just. Stop!"
"No," the reply was instantaneous. "I can't stop midway. I'll see this through until the end. Regardless of what you have to say."
"A mere student like you shouldn't be cocky! You don't know anything about me!"
The words flew out of Kawakami's mouth. A mere scream would not be accurate in the least to describe how loud her voice reverbed and echoed inside Akira's ears. Afterward, Kawakami was gasping for air and holding her chest. Her gaze was still at Akira's. Her expression was something Akira had never seen before. She was furious.
"Think about it in my shoes for once, Akira. A girl like me is more trouble than it's worth for you. I'm constantly in a huge debt. I'm not even that great of a teacher. I don't even know what's so great about me at all. You deserved someone better than me. That's all I want out of this relationship so we shouldn't go further than this, alright? Can you do that for me?" She was constantly yelling, but all Akira heard was self-loathing aimed toward herself and nothing aimed toward him. He bit his lips in frustration as she continued. "Just leave me alone, alright? About this debt, I'll do something about it myself so don't worry about me, alright?"
Akira simply shook his head, and said, "I don't think so. That's for me to decide."
Kawakami stopped. Her expression soften, and her fingers began to trail her hair and twirled on of her sidebangs. "You're such a selfish brat. Could you just go home?"
"And what if I am being selfish?" Akira pressed on. "Isn't that fine?"
"...Foolish brat," Smiling, Kawakami sighed. "Do whatever you want. The visiting hours will end in a few minutes anyway. I hope this will be the last time you're going to be bothering me."
"Having a falling out with another student, Miss Kawakami?" A loud guffaw came from the door, where a man and a woman walked toward Kawakami's bed. "By the looks of it, it's just your relationship's that's taking a nosedive. It seems that even your body is falling apart by the seconds." The man was in his early to late forties. Wrinkles had appeared on his face and he didn't put on any effort to hide them. His clothes was, so to say, shabby and wasn't put well together as if they were taken from a bargain bin. A metallic watch was present on his wrist, but in a single glance Akira knew it was from a fake brand. "Geez woman you need to take better care of yourselves."
"Now, now dear," the woman interjected. "It's not her fault that she fell sick." The woman was not much older than the man. Her face was even more present with wrinkles, but her body was on the fatter side of the spectrum. Looking at them together, their uncanny body proportions and all, he knew that they were husband and wife and it was oddly fitting to see the both of them together. "Miss Kawakami, you should know better than to overwork. How do you think you'll pay our demands this time?"
Kawakami looked to her side.
"I'm sorry. I'll think of something."
"You'd better," the wrinkled man huffed. "I want that money by tomorrow, you hear me? I won't be expecting another delay."
"It's truly bothersome to us when you couldn't even do just that, Kawakami-san," the wrinkled old lady laughed, her mouth covered by her hands. Akira betted she did that to cover her broken old teeth. "Or would you prefer us to tell the board of education at Shujin? You'd better say goodbye to your teaching career if that's the case."
"What are you—"
"That's horrible," Akira interjected. "You're telling that to someone who's recovering? Scum."
"And who are you to tell us what we can or cannot say to someone who killed our son? This woman, who is your teacher by the way, killed our son and you expect us to let her leave without facing her consequences? The world doesn't work that way, kid. And you shouldn't be defending someone like her in the first place." The woman beside him nodded with a twisted grin, and the man continued. "I get that you're her student and you care for her like a third-rate student would to a third-rate teacher. But! You better stay out of this before she killed you too, understood? I'm doing you a favor here."
"Yes, you're as young as Takei was when he died. It would be a shame if you too were met with an unfortunate end. Better pack your bags and skip town while you're at it too."
Akira was ready to jump and strike when the woman laughed before Kawakami, but the anger stayed in his head and stopped in his senses. He bit his lips and clenched his fists as tight as it was pain numbing. Glaring at the old man, the scum glared back with a wide smirk. "Don't even try, kid. What would happen if a Shujin student is found attacking the elderly like us? That would be the biggest scandal material for you and for Shujin as a whole... that is, if we're putting aside what Kawakami will be able to offer to the tabloids."
"Enough, I'll pay the amount. Just leave, please."
"Hoh, you will?" The dirty man scratched his chin and grinned smugly from ear to ear. "Yeah, sure. I will. This boy's pissant scent is going to make me want to puke anyway. See you later, kid."
"Leave before she killed you too, young man."
Not even with a bow, the two left the room and slammed it shut.
"So," Kawakami started. She was afraid to look at Akira in the eyes. "What do you think, Akira-kun?"
"I may not know many people, but I know scums when I see one."
"Yeah." Kawakami reclined to the hospital bed. The clean white sheet and the white fluffy pillow made it easier for her body to relax. She let out a big and audible sigh and turned toward her student. "Hey, I know I said all of that stuff about pushing you away and not wanting to see you here. But the truth is, what I wanted to say was..." His maid closed her eyes and kept her sight toward the unfamiliar ceiling. "Thank you for coming here, Akira-kun. But I'm sorry that your visit will have to end now."
"Take your time and just rest, Kawakami."
"Yeah, thanks. I'll do just that," his teacher closed her eyes and positioned her head again on the pillow. She was about to get comfortable, but her eyes suddenly shot wide awake and she turned toward her student. "You sneaky boy. That's miss Kawakami to you, mister!" The both of them stared at each other before laughing out loud together. After a while, Kawakami returned to lay on the bed and her sight began to blur along with the light. Her hands rested themselves on top of her chest, covered by white, female-patient sleeping gown. "Don't worry about me, alright. I'll get myself charged up to one-hundred percent and we'll resume our talk sometime soon."
"Okay. See you soon, Miss Kawakami."
"Yeah, see you soon too, Akira-kun."
Kawakami quickly drifted into her sleep, before his student had the chance to leave the room. Not sure of what will happen next, Kawakami continued to drown. Yet, she was able to breathe, knowing that his face was all that appeared in her mind as the darkness dragged herself deeper to the parade of her subconscious made her calm. Her breathing was stable, the IV was doing its job, and her mind was truly resting to greet the next day.
Turning off the light, Akira exited the room. He had a sudden business to attend.