It's...been a long time. But. I'm getting back into the swing of things.
.x.X.x.
Into the Mist
Ch. 2
.x.X.x.
The previous incident that involved my fighting and beating (because I won that fight) Kaori had spread throughout what seemed to be the whole elementary school – and to the parents, if the wary looks I sometimes got said anything. It irked mother to no end, and I had regretted it a bit, but had gotten over it quickly. Not having friends was something I was all that worried about – I'd never been all too social in the first place, and I had always been a bit awkward around kids.
But darn it, Kaori apparently had a cousin – an older cousin that was ten going on eleven who apparently had no qualms in confronting a diminutive nine year old girl; though she was also a girl, which evened out my odds, thankfully. Months after the initial fight, might I add.
"You hurt my little cousin, huh?" She had a mean sneer, this kid. "You're so small. I could crush you."
"Mn, yeah. A little girl." I was tensed, ready to dart out of the way – but also ready to (hopefully) put up an illusion that would be enough to distract the kid. "So scary, you are, nee-chan."
Her face flushed at that, the anger going to her head. "You little brat!"
She threw herself forward, fist lashing out as I ducked to the side. With a hard furrow of my brows and a deep breath she stumbled, off balance at what was likely little more than a sudden blur running almost right into her face. I threw my full weight into her, sending her face first into the ground before jumping and planting my knees into her back and pulling both of her arms back.
"You gonna leave me alone now?" I huffed, tired (shamefully) from the exertion. "You and Kaori? 'Cause I want nothing to do with you guys."
And then Kaori burst back into the room, red faced and with a teacher. A reflexive English swear escaped me – Kaori had probably ran off the moment I'd been able to dodge, too nervous to wait. And boy, did sensei look angry.
"Inoue Nagi! Get off of her this instant!" Sensei was flushed, hands clenched.
I acquiesced with no arguments – there were none I could really make, anyways.
"What is the meaning of this?" Her sharp eyes focused on me as she helped the sniffling ten year old. "Only halfway into the year and two fights?"
"Hara-sensei," I frowned, lip sticking out cutely (I hoped). "I didn't start this fight."
She shook her head. "You say that, but Ama-chan has never gotten in trouble – for what reason would she have started it?"
"But sensei, why would I?"
But Hara-sensei wasn't having it – not that I was all that surprised. Exasperated? Yes. Surprised? No. Vaguely I wondered if Other-Nagi had had these problems, the answer of which was probably yes-but-no. Because she had been a pushover and I was not. She wouldn't have fought Kaori that day, but I was to prideful to give in to the pushy whims of selfish children. If that meant getting in trouble for protecting myself, then I'd do it.
Even if mother's angry sneer was something that was always unpleasant to behold. I could only imagine how incensed she would be if she ever realized that I always got food every time she sent me to my room with orders of no dinner.
It would probably be pretty damn beautiful.
.x.X.x.
Mother was very beautiful – slender and curvy with plump lips, shimmering hair, and sharp eyes. But beauty like that is only skin deep, and can only conceal the hideousness on the inside. It made me thankful that I didn't look much like her – she was thankful too, I'm sure. My eye color may have been mother's, but the rest of it was from my father – my pale skin and my deep purple hair (my favorite thing about my appearance; oddly colored hair was a novelty).
"Nagi!" Amethyst eyes like my own glared down, making them more like chips of dyed ice rather than pretty gems. "What's with these grades you're bringing home, hmm?"
I peered up at her, making sure to blink in the most innocent way I could (as my large, naturally innocent eyes rather disconcerted her as it was), "My grades? I'm passing. I have good grades."
"Low As. That is average." Her deceptively pretty lips curled downwards. "And you fight. If you're going to be such an uncouth child, the least you could do is excel in academics."
That, I could undoubtedly do. But would I? For her? Not a chance in hell. Anything that would please this woman was something that I didn't want to do – a matter of principle, I suppose. Why she thought I cared about what she might want was also something I didn't quite understand, as one would think that she'd have figured out I didn't care by this point.
"I think things are fine as they are."
She snarled – somehow still pretty with such an ugly expression on her face – before strutting off. "You are turning out more and more like that horrid father of yours."
At that I started. My father, her first husband, was someone I didn't know much about at all. Sure, I had a few pictures (including a couple of him holding me) but that was it – all I knew about the man was from a small, sparse photo album I kept stashed under my bed, lest mother do something to or with it. And it showed even more of mother's despicable character too – because she was with him, had married him, when it seemed very much to me like she had disliked his character. Money was the main factor, if I had to guess.
But really, what was my father like? I wish I knew – not knowing was like missing a piece of the puzzle that made up me, in a way.
.x.X.x.
"Kid, you're a bit of a scrapper, aren't ya?" Garret had a cigarette hanging from his lips as he leant against the wall by the backdoor.
"I've only been in two fights – two." I yanked viciously at the grass, the nutty, green smell prevalent. "And neither was my fault, you know."
He snorted, crushing the cigarette in his ashtray (as neither of his employers wanted smoking to be happening at the house – but he always did it when neither were home) before coming to stand next to me. "Good thing you didn't lose either – it'd be a shame if you had."
I grumbled quietly, depositing handfuls of pulled grass on his shoes. "I was so out of breath though. My stamina sucks."
Garret kicked up suddenly, leaving me jerking to the side in surprise as the grass on his shoe rained down. The look on my face, I'm sure, was completely disgusted, as some of the dirt laden grass had gotten in my mouth along with the bits that had stuck in my hair. Garret, though, only laughed –
"You want to build stamina? Go run. I have a couple hours until I need to start cooking. Get your tail in gear and let's go to the park, darlin'."
"Wait, are you serious?" I pushed myself up and nearly tripped over myself following him to the back door. "You're going to go running with me?"
He laughed, loud and coarse. "Oh, I ain't runnin'. I'm the motivation and the chaperone. Now go get those contraband clothes of yours on."
I shook my head, getting rid of the stray grass, and paused – "Why…Why are you doing this for me?"
Garret pushed his hand into his hair, sending me a rather dashing look over his shoulder, a lopsided grin on his face and a little spark of something I couldn't quite identify in his eyes –
"Because you deserve it, kid. You deserve trips to the park and a whole lot more. Even if you just want to run around instead of playing."
.x.X.x.
My legs and lungs had ached for a good few hours every morning for a little over a week now – the result of my running trips to the park. And, let me tell you, for a cook who claimed he wanted me to have a good childhood, he was a Spartan. Apparently my running form had been off, and I'd bobbled too much – plus I didn't breathe right (things Garret took upon himself to fix).
"Pain is gain, right kid?" The soft sizzle of food in a skillet wound through his words and the savory smell of breakfast wafted through the air. "Man, I haven't coached anyone like that in forever."
"Yes, and you seem to enjoy my suffering." Currently I was nursing a bottle of water – the best cure for cramping muscles. "I thought you had said you were just going to chaperone that first day."
Garret set down a plate of breakfast hash with a light click, grinning the whole time. "I also said motivation."
The clacking of hard soled shoes announced the arrival of Tomoko, who was as cheery as ever. "Oh, is the little missus eating with us again today?"
It had started about a week ago, me retreating to the kitchen to eat most of my meals. At first Tomoko had tried pushing and urging me to go eat with my mother and Nobuo, but that had failed spectacularly. Her ushering had also given Tomoko her first taste of 'Kana dislikes her worthless daughter' which had mellowed and saddened the cheerful young woman. Suffice it to say that Tomoko had stopped urging so fiercely, but she did subtly nudge me at times (like the mother-daughter relationship could be fixed; please, it hadn't even existed in the first place).
"Food tastes better when in non-hostile conditions." I supplied before stuffing a bit of food into my mouth (a rather large bite that had my cheeks bulging, just a bit; a bad habit from long ago).
"I wouldn't say hostile…" Tomoko swayed a bit before accepting her own plate and sitting down. "…Thank you, Wei-san."
Garret sat down with a bit of a thunk, the chair legs having bounced a bit with him sitting so roughly. "Hostile? More frigid, I'd say. But it's nice and warm in here, right, darlin'?"
.x.X.x.
Tomoko had finally taken it upon herself to teach me how to sew – despite how disinterested I really was in it. According to her it was a good technique to have in my arsenal, what with how often I seemed to be tearing clothes up. I couldn't argue with that, but it still wasn't something overly interesting to me in the long run.
Inoue Nagi, the fiercest seamstress in the mafia.
I snorted – the mental image was too silly and out there not to. Then again an assassin armed with sewing needles and thread (wires, maybe?) could be deceptively dangerous. And – errant thought, but... needlework could possibly translate to stitching up wounds, couldn't it? At least, theoretically?
"Little miss?" Tomoko patted my arm gently, as I had gone still, lost in thought. "Have I lost you, missus Nagi?"
She wasn't angry or really all that put out it seemed, which I was thankful for. She could be overbearing, but Tomoko was sweet all the same. It was almost as if she was my mother-figure instead of my actual mother – no, that didn't seem right; sister-figure fit much better. Even if I had been getting so, so antsy lately from not using my mist flames because of her sensitivity (she'd been staying up later, working on something).
"Sorry, Tomoko-san. I had a silly thought." My smile was sheepish, I was sure. "Sewing ninjas, you know? Kind of fun to think about."
Her laugh was the complete opposite of Garret's – light, tinkling, and almost breathy.
"Yes, seems like it might be funny. But I think –" she paused for a moment as I tried to force back a yawn. "– that someone needs to rest up now."
.x.X.x.
Waking up in the middle of the night seemed to be a frequent occurrence for me, for whatever reason. Two or three times a week I would wake up, anywhere from eleven to one in the morning, with the urge for either a little snack or to just sit out back and think. It was odd, and a bit inconvenient, as I was always a bit more tired the following day – but things could be worse than that, so I didn't like dwelling on it. Though Tomoko had woken up one of those nights and had nearly shrieked, as I had been cloaked from sight with the illusions she was sensitive to.
"Why's she so sensitive 'nyways." My voice was muffled, partially due to sleepiness and partly due to the spoon of ice cream stuck in my mouth. "Oh well. Must jus' be my luck."
"Mine too."
Choking was always unpleasant – it was also what I was now doing. My spoon clattered noisily on the counter as I heaved and tried to get my breathing right again, Garret ignoring me in favor of getting his own small bowl of ice cream.
"I'd forgotten about this ice cream, to be perfectly honest." He held his spoon up after taking a bite. "Homemade is so much better though."
"W-what are you…?" I shook my head, my pretty purple hair tickling my chin and neck. "You scared the crap out of me, Garret!"
He leered at me, tilting his hand to point at me with his spoon –
"Like how you scare Kazunari? You little apparition."
And without saying anything else he went back to eating his ice cream. I, on the other hand, felt as cold as the frozen treat. This was basically him flat-out telling me he knew about my ability to make illusions, wasn't it? It had to be – but what did that mean for me now? How was he so calm about it? How did he even know?
"Darlin', I might not be sensitive like Kazunari is, but I know how to spot an amateur illusion." He sniggered a bit at what was probably an affronted look on my face. "You're actually pretty good for a kid, you know?"
"H-How long?" My eyes were probably wide, enough to rival an owl's at this point. "And why are you so nonchalant about it?"
"I've known almost since you've started messing around with 'em, darlin'." Garret cleared both his and my (since I was just. So. Done.) utensils. "And because I've seen this stuff before – hell, I can do some pretty cool stuff too, ya know?"
At that he held up a hand, a cheeky grin on his face as little green sparks signifying lightning flames came to life, arcing from finger to finger. And I wanted to both scream and bombard him with questions – because those were undoubtedly dying will flames. And if he could use them, and identify them – he had to have some kind of underworld connection. But asking him something like that would be suspicious – plus I'd never get an answer, what with omerta. Then again, hadn't there been some rule about educating Flame users?
I let out a deep breath, still a bit awed. "Why're you telling me though?"
"Well, with how you've been getting'…" Garret smirked, leant back in his chair and crossed his arms. "…I figure you'll be getting into even more trouble. And you'll need someone to talk to, won't cha?"
.
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They say to expect the unexpected, but things are unexpected for a reason, aren't they? Perhaps it would be more prudent to say 'Brace for the unexpected so you can endure it.'
.x.X.x.
I thought the update this week was going to be for Guadagnare (which I am working on currently!), but I ended up being in a Chrome mood.
Thank you, to anyone who has stuck around.
