Author's Note: Despite this fic not getting too much attention, I love it enough to trudge on regardless! With gusto!
I do not own Puella Magi Madoka Magica nor any of the anime's Affiliates
My cellphone rings from its place on the bathroom countertop, vibrating in increments as a cheery tropical beat mambas away in the background. Just as expected. The screen illuminates a uniquely artificial shade of blue, the name 'Yori Noda' popping up in teal text. Having left on a bad note earlier that evening, I decide to indulge in some harmless levity.
I pick up, speaking unintelligibly into the receiver, "Uhm flosheen."
"Huh?" She replies, and I hear her release what I can only assume to be a held breath. Good. I continue my charade.
"I'm flossing."
"How did you pick up the phone then, smart guy?"
"I floss with one hand."
"Shuddup."
"I assume you didn't call with the sole purpose of undermining my dental hygiene."
"Err," Yori stammers, hesitant, "I wanted to talk about what happened today. I showed ya some really crazy stuff."
"Let's not beat around any proverbial bush. I was belittling, and short-sighted. I shouldn't have questioned you the way I did and I apologize. I'm sorry Yori. It is evident the job you perform is far more complex than I made it out to be."
What follows is a lengthy pause that drags enough to warrant a cautionary, "Hello?"
"... I forgive you I guess."
"I suppose I could forgive you as well," I say beneath a grin, and I hope she can hear it.
"What's that supposed ta' mean!?"
"On several occasions I nearly died. That does not count in your favor-"
"-hah, sorry sorry sorry-" Yori interjects, once again in audibly high spirits.
"-I mean, if you weren't there to catch me... and then there was that whole walking volcano deal. So next time I'll carry a weapon to defend myself with."
"Next time?" She asks, unabashedly excited, "I thought you might've been scared off!"
"Scared? Have you even met me?"
Hell yes I was scared. Terrified even - mortified, horrified. But I'd never admit it. As she changes the subject to a less immediately relevant topic, I scan myself in the mirror. Yori's idle chatter serves as white noise while I rake a hand through my dark red hair, clutching it in a fist at the apex. My eyes absently wander to my sullied school uniform, an article I'll need for tomorrow morning; it needs to be washed and ironed, the torn tie replaced or at the very least stitched. It's workable.
"-and like ya know, history is my least favorite subject next t'math, so I was thinking you could maybe be the lovable nerd ya are and help a lady with her foibles."
I regain lucidity, answering with a curt, "Tutoring, you mean."
"Yes."
"I would be honored." Wait, did she just...
...say...
"Foibles?"
"Fuckin' foibles is right," she exclaims, something akin to pride in her voice; it turns sly in an instant. "Is my book talk makin' you hot under the collar?"
"It just came out of left field is all. I didn't expect you to use 'foibles,' 'fucking' or otherwise," I helpfully elucidate.
"You're horrible at flirting, Masao," Yori states in a dry groan.
"Is that what we're doing?"
"Anyway, how does tomorrow sound? At 4, my place?" She suggests, and I mentally check my schedule.
"I have student council obligations till 4, can we meet up at half past?" I ask, deftly unbuttoning my dress shirt as the cellphone sits wedged between my ear and shoulder.
"Sure thing Mister Important, see you then. G'night, sleep tight."
"Sweet dreams, sweet dreamer."
I disconnect, lower the phone, and turn my wrists against the countertop; supporting myself on them, I stare pensively at my reflection. It stares back, looking tired. I retire to bed. The night passes quietly.
Morning arrives in golden dress, waking me via window. I huff in protest, the only thing I can process this early being the digital clock on my side table, reading 6 11. Groggy and weak, I drag the covers off and expose my skin to the biting air; I hobble to the shower, collecting my clothes along the way. A sock here, a shoe there… I really should be more organized.
The hot water symphony with steam accompaniment is loud enough on my body to fully rouse me. A short washing later and I'm fresh-faced and dewy eyed, ready to take on whatever obstacles lay ahead; that list has grown recently.
A mile's distance from my apartment complex, the school waits. As I make the trek, bantering with friends nonsensically, Yori brings up the rear.
"Mornin' Masao!" She chirps, looping an arm around my hip in an affectionate gesture not unnoticed by my smirking peers. Tadashi, a fellow student council member, is especially vocal.
"Mornin' Yori!" He mocks, earning a few side giggles. I shoot him an unamused glare - it's ultimately ineffective.
"Oh," she smiles, perking up, "Good mornin'."
I grit my teeth at her cheerful naivety as it has the opposite effect on Tadashi.
"And the same to you, Masao," he says.
I nod. "Yes, Tadashi. Good morning."
"Couple of the guys are hanging out after school today over at the park - we thought you'd maybe join us?" He proposes, and I can tell it's a genuine offer. Yori lightly pinches my side, that of which she's still attached to.
"Regretfully, I cannot."
"Aw, why's that?"
"Prior obligations," I respond, and Yori nestles into my shoulder with a murmur of contentment. Tadashi glances at her, then slows.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?"
I come to a halt, "Go on ahead, Yori," and turn to face him. She complies, uneasy. When she's a quarter block away, Tadashi begins his predictable 'what are you doing' lecture; it isn't the first.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking the brunt of your condescending bullshit."
He grimaces. "She's not good for you man, no way no how."
"Sure, Yori isn't academically inclined, but that doesn't give you the right to judge her. Don't think I missed what you did back there." I point, my features sharpening as I attempt to intimidate. I have a few inches on him in the height area, which doesn't hurt.
"Get your priorities straight," Tadashi warns, "You've been distracted ever since you started dating her a month ago - you're totally out of it. I'm not asking you to break up with the girl or anything, but like I've said before: organize yourself."
"I appreciate your concern, I do, but my work is always quality," I answer, composed, "Yori doesn't enter the equation."
"Alright man, I'm just trying to help. If you change your mind about the park, tell me. See you later." Tadashi waves, rotates, and melts into a group of passing high schoolers. I spot Yori at the far end of the inclined road, watching me with an expression made indeterminate by the distance between us. Regardless, it gives me chills. She crests the hill and vanishes.
My classes are anything but boring, having the passion for knowledge that I do, but they still crawl by at an unnatural dawdle. Nevertheless I'm entertained. I find it's all about being receptive, attentive, segmenting the lesson into more easily processed portions, taking thorough notes.
When the final bell chimes and the last block concludes, I travel to science hall where student council holds their meetings; the twelve of us, led by President Katsuo, discuss in depth the details of the upcoming winter formal. Twice I catch Tadashi's eye. The session finishes late. It's 4 12.
Idling patiently outside in the school courtyard is Yori. The brick-bordered plots reserved for flower beds in the summertime have succumbed to frost, now resembling a wild patch of underbrush. She hasn't seen me yet, so I take the opportunity to do my best 'gaze of adoration.'
Yori Noda is a special kind of pretty. Her shoulder-length orange hair manages to look simultaneously disheveled and styled, and the ridge of her cute button nose is dotted thick with freckles that span ear to ear. She's evokes the beauty of a minimalistic room hosting tasteful furniture that, while visually appealing, is also comfortable. Practical. Cozy.
"A minimalistic room?" She guffaws, "Lame..."
"It sounded better in my head."
Yori takes my hand as well as the lead, marching us to her home step by heavy step. We arrive on her street by the half hour mark.
"Ya ready?" She asks. I steel my resolve and return:
"As long as your dad doesn't hug me again."
Yori giggles, most likely at the memory of me being strong armed by her doting, hands-on father during one of my previous visits. He's a jolly man with fat cheeks and a fat everything else, and as he opens the door (almost as though he's been expecting us) his face shines bright and beaming. He wraps himself around me before I can protest.
"Masao, Masao! How great it is t'see ya!"
There's only so much I can reciprocate without the use of my upper body so I don't bother to try. My wince is blocked by his generous bosom, "And you, Mr. Noda."
He releases me and pats non-existent dust from my shoulders, then relieves me of his attention by asking, "And Yori. How was school, sunshine?"
Her grin rivals her father's as she replies with an excited, "Fantastic! I got a 93 percent on a math quiz! Not bad, huh?"
"Excellent!" Mr. Noda smothers Yori with a hug of her own and she erupts in a fit of muffled giggles. "Well then, I'm off ta' pick up some groceries. Mom'll be back back before I am, so don't get up t'any mischief." He raises a thick finger in my direction, then fixes it on Yori. "It's you I worry about, not him." We all share a laugh before he leaves, and when he does, I exhale.
"I-"
"Oh give it a rest," Yori cuts my complaint short. Entering the kitchen, we seat ourselves at the oak zataku and begin our discussion.
- "They didn't have pianos in 1500s..." -
- "Pi never ends, an attractive thought indeed..." -
- "You should never rhyme 'wisdom' with 'jizzum..." -
We make definite progress...
- "Instigating the conflict, the- MMmmfF!" -
For a small while...
As 4 30 stretches to 5, and 5 to 6, we finish. Mrs. Noda, a stout woman closely resembling her daughter, invites me to stay for dinner. I graciously accept.
I hope you liked it, I have a definite plan in mind. ;) Review at leisure.
