"Whaddya mean he ain't here!"
Hiro backpedaled under Georgia's glare, colliding with the model skeleton in the corner. If he didn't give her a real answer right damn now, she was gonna make Hiro the model's twin.
"I discharged him this morning!" Hiro lifted his hands in a weak defense. "He left under his own strength, and—"
"I got eyeballs, doc. What I mean, is—"
"Georgia! There's not much else I could do for him. I set his wrist, bandaged his wounds, and monitored him all night—which, I don't have to tell you, now do I?" Evidently, Georgia was not the only one frustrated with the situation. "He is not in any life-threatening danger, so I can't hold him here against his will. What he needs most is bed rest, so I'm going to assume he's at home doing just that."
Georgia bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her retort at bay. She was already frazzled from waking up later than she meant to—though if it'd been up to her, she wouldn't have gotten any sleep. But her body had folded under the emotional strain of the afternoon's events, and she'd fallen asleep sometime around sun-up, only to wake and bolt out of her room at the Town Hall at 9:30, ten minutes ago.
Hiro hadn't been as lucky—if you could call it that. He'd been up all night at Kana's bedside, both as a doctor and a friend, maintaining a strict no-visitors policy. A policy, Georgia quickly learned, specifically dealt towards Phillip and Dirk more than her and Laney.
When they'd pleaded, begged, Hiro had given them an earful, sent them cowerin' out the door like two mangy mutts with their tails between their legs. Georgia didn't blame him, and would have done the same if she weren't busy bein' consoled by Laney, as it'd come to light that Dirk and Phillip had been the—and this was using the term incredibly loosely—brains behind the whole operation that had led to Kana fading in and out of consciousness.
And now, it looked like Hiro was the one who was ready to slip out of consciousness.
"Honestly, Hiro, you look like you can use a lil' bed rest of your own. Those bags under your eyes could pass for suitcases."
Hiro let out what would have been a laugh if he weren't halfway to dozin' off into hibernation. As it was, it sounded more a hiccup that couldn't quite hic.
"I suppose you're right, Georgia. But I've already started a kettle for tea—I'll at least have myself a cup, before I rest. You can join me if you'd like."
Georgia shook her head, declining. "Tea can wait. I gotta find Kana."
Hiro moved around her, over to the kitchen area of his home. The kettle was waiting on the stove, and he reached it just as it let off a shrill whistle. "Please, just let him rest. He was able to tell me that he feels terrible about the whole thing, so just let him be for now. Honestly, he's lucky he wasn't injured worse. A fall like that, most people would suffer far worse than a broken wrist and a concussion."
Georgia watched as Hiro poured the boiling water into an ornate teacup. She crossed over to him, and as she closed in, the tea's grassy aroma reached her.
Why did every danged thing remind her of Kana? Like the tea, and its distinct scent. She'd never much liked tea if it wasn't loaded with cream and sugar, and she'd figured she wouldn't like this kind either, but Kana had invited her to Yun's tea house coupla months ago, and she'd tried it all 'cause he'd egged her on to give it a whirl. Try somethin' she hadn't before.
And no, Georgia hadn't liked it one bit, had let Kana finish it off. But now, she liked the memory that came with it.
Her throat clogged up with emotion, transforming into spiteful words."I ain't surprised in the least, he's so dang hard-headed."
Hiro blew away ribbons of steam before regarding Georgia. "I don't believe it's my place to apologize, but I really am sorry this all happened. I warned him not to go about things," he said, gestured his teacup at her, "like he did."
Hiro was right; Kana should be the one apologizin'. Even if Phillip and Dirk had cooked up the idea and served it to him, Kana coulda always said no, thanks. She didn't understand why he thought he'd had to jump through so many hoops with her, 'stead of just bein' honest and decent like... well, like he truly was. She wouldn't like him so much if he wasn't. He might've been nice to look at, but hearts didn't have eyes, and that's where she felt strongest about him, because his heart was just as good.
"Oh, I ain't the least bit angered with you, Hiro. I know you wouldn't have involved yourself in such a pickle-brained scheme." Georgia retreated towards the staircase, looking at Hiro with a honey-sweet smile on her face and a Screw you! in her heart, reserved especially for Kana. "Bless your little heart, for all you've been tryin' to help."
"Georgia!" Hiro called after her from the top of the stairs as she descended them. "Let him rest! Doctor's orders!"
Doctor's orders meant jack diddly to Georgia, and apparently meant about the same to Kana, because he wasn't home gettin' bed rest. In fact, he wasn't home at all. The door was locked—even if he was sleepin', he woulda left it unlocked, she knew, in case Hiro or anyone had to drop by—and he wasn't in the stable. Neither was Hayate.
But Dakota was.
Georgia had brought her there last night. Ridin' her back to Bluebell so late was out of the question, especially with her bein' tuckered out from having to carry Kana's slumping body down the mountain to the clinic, at as breakneck a pace Georgia had ever ran her.
Dakota whinnied happily when Georgia neared her. She appeared well-rested, alert and responsive to Georgia's affectionate strokes. "You doin' okay, girl? Hungry?"
Georgia moved to where she'd placed the container of blueberry granola treats, over on the window sill. She'd left them when she'd dropped Dakota off at the stable. It was nearly empty, only a few crumbly pieces remaining. Dakota, and all the other horses in the stable, must have already been fed.
So Kana had been here. Gone back to tendin' the horses, like it was just another day in the life.
And what else was he out doin', like nothin' had happened? Riding Hayate? She couldn't rightly believe even he was that thick-headed, but she'd learned not to underestimate the stupid decisions he could make when Dirk and Phillip were involved.
She pressed herself to Dakota, gripping the horse's mane and burying her face into her raised arm to mute the soft sob that escaped. Fresh tears sprung free from her eyes, dampening her cheeks. Chest heaving, she let her head drop against Dakota's shoulder. She pressed herself tighter against her beloved horse, not sure how it could be that she was able to still cry.
Here, she thought she'd been all cried out yesterday, between bringin' Kana to the clinic on Dakota, the aftermath of discovering his reasoning behind such a stunt, and her dad's soothing words over the phone, tellin' her she could stay in Konohana for the night—and that he hoped Kana would make a quick recovery.
But she knew these tears were more from frustration than sorrow—that it shouldn't be this complicated to know somethin'. 'Specially with Kana, it was never this difficult. Here he'd frightened her half to death and now he was makin' it a point to avoid her—likely because he had a hunch she might wallop him hard enough to put him back in the clinic, but still. Hiro's reassurances didn't mean a hill of beans to her; all she wanted was to see him with her own two eyes, know he was in one piece.
Dakota snorted, nudging at her tearful owner. Georgia rewarded her with more gentle pats, smiling through the sniffles. "Girl, don't you ever go runnin' with any stallions. They're nothin' but trouble."
She stood in the stable several more minutes, trying to regroup and slap together a plan. She could go back to Town Hall, call her dad up in case Kana had gone to Bluebell. But no, she decided; if he'd left the clinic so early, he'd have gotten to Bluebell long before she'd woken up, and her dad or Laney, who'd returned last night, would have called her already.
Georgia's next option—options, actually—were the last two she was keen on pursuing. But at this point, there wasn't any choice.
Dirk's home was a quick jaunt away, so that's where she headed first. Marching straight up to his door, she received her fair share of resistance when she grabbed the knob. Locked. And leaving her knocked flat on her rump after trying to barrel the door down.
Grumbling and getting to her feet, she cursed her immediate hindsight. Right, it was Sunday, when the postman didn't do any circulatin'. Dirk was... well, who even knew? Not home, that's for dang sure. So that left...
Phillip's farm was sprouting crops as far as the eye could see: onions, tomatoes (or to-mah-toes, if you asked Georgia), even furrows off into the horizon of nothing but brilliant golden sunflowers. But she wasn't here to admire, no sir!
And there it was, that calamitous monstrosity of a metal chicken, Phillip's pride and joy. He loved totin' that thing all over creation, up and down the mountain, through the tunnel, lettin' it squawk to high heaven. If it had its shiny metallic tailfeathers parked here, then Phillip's scrawny butt had to be parked at home too.
She stormed up to his front door and threw it open.
"Phillip! Where's Kana?!" she demanded.
And then promptly froze in place at the sight before her.
Phillip—and Dirk—broke apart from the heated kiss they'd been sharin' and whipped around to face her. Their clothes were disheveled, hair mussed like they'd been rollin' in the hay—and now the part of Georgia that wasn't steamin' mad wondered, vaguely, if there'd ever been a time they'd done just that in her stables. In front of Dakota.
Phillip, who'd made a noise that reminiscent of his chicken cart, smoothed at his hair then fumbled with his untucked shirt and the pants they were pulled loose from. "Goddess, Georgia! Can't you knock?"
"Geez..." Dirk sounded less flustered, but only by a smidgen. He retrieved his blazer from where it'd been tossed a few feet away. "I'm just glad you didn't bust in ten minutes from now."
He shot Phillip a suggestive smile and it was like a magic touch; Phillip's stressful expression evaporated into one sayin', well, hey now... everything was just peachy.
Not for Georgia. She stomped right up to Phillip, fists balled at her side and achin' to strike. "Where's Kana? He ain't at his shop or the barn, and he ain't at the clinic. So that means he's gotta be with one of you two numbnuts!"
"Um, well, Kana's great and all but this," Phillip gestured between himself and Dirk, "is a two-man show."
Georgia'd had enough of Phillip's wiggly eyebrows and sassafrassy replies. With both hands, she snatched him by the shirt and backed him against the nearest wall. "Phillip Blair, you got five seconds to give me a straight answer or you're gonna be drinkin' all your meals from a straw."
Phillip was taller and stronger than she was, but was little match for her rage, givin' him no hope of extracting himself. When he kept mum, she gave him a shake and started counting down.
"Five."
"Georgia, I don't know—" he started at the same time that Dirk began rambling something she couldn't make out, for all the fire pulsing through her.
"Four."
"GEORGIA! I don't know where he is, and that's the truth!"
"You think I'm gonna believe you, after all that you mucked up yesterday? Three. No, two!"
"Hey!" Dirk was on her, peeling her hands off Phillip and encircling her with his own arms to drag her a safe distance away. "Georgia, I'm tryin' to tell you, here. I saw him this morning—"
She slipped free of Dirk's constraint, rounding to face the two of them. "What?"
Phillip was partially obstructed by Dirk, as if they were both worried Georgia might go after Phillip again. Dirk spoke slowly, patiently, like he was trying to calm a spooked animal.
"I saw him this morning, really early, like before seven, on my way over here. I passed him near his house, he was just leavin' with Hayate, and he handed me a letter. Something to send his dad. I didn't even have time to remind him what day it was, that I couldn't do anything with it until tomorrow. Then he headed north, and he seemed kinda in a hurry, so I figured he was going through the tunnel to go see you. I didn't know you'd stayed overnight, since Hiro banned us all... y'know? I figured you went back to Bluebell. Or I woulda said somethin' to him."
Georgia let Dirk's words soak in, allowed them to douse out the flames of anger still flickering within her. She almost asked how Kana'd looked—how he seemed, really—but she didn't want to hear about it. She wanted to know for herself. What puzzled her enough to keep her rooted where she stood, though, was, "He say why he was out? Wasn't to go ridin', was it?"
Dirk shrugged. "Dunno. He just seemed really intent to get goin'. Didn't seem like he wanted to stand around and talk to me. I was so shocked to see him out and about at all, he was gone by the time I'd processed it."
"Well, thank you kindly, Dirk. That's all I needed to know. I'll leave you two be; Kana and I need to have a little chit-chat of our own."
Phillip stepped out from behind Dirk, stopping Georgia from getting too far. "Yo, hold on. When you do talk to him, can you leave out the part about what you saw when you came storming in here like a bat out of hell?" Phillip motioned between him and Dirk. "But um... if you could tell him we're sorry, then—"
"You think I give a dead mouse's last turd if y'all wanna play tonsil hockey? That's your own danged business, and what I gotta say to Kana is mine. I ain't breathin' either of your names to him, 'bout anything, and that includes any kind of apology. If you had half the gumption you got when it comes to flingin' yourselves off cliffs, you'd find him and say sorry, yourself."
Phillip's smile was somethin' Georgia never thought she'd see: rueful. He—and Dirk, too, judging by how he was sporting a similar expression that was focused on the floor— knew she was right. Puttin' them in their place would have been satisfying, if she wasn't so grateful and relieved that they were sorry. Much as they bothered her like fleas on a hound, she didn't enjoy gettin' hot with them. Life was better when they could act more like the friends they really were to each other.
She bid them farewell, and was almost out the door when one last thought hooked her back. Spinning around, she shouted at neither one in particular. "Hey!"
They both looked up, caught midway between curious and afraid. "Y-Yeah?" Phillip ventured.
"I'm happy for y'all." She nodded towards them. "Really."
"Oh... well, thanks." Phillip smiled over at Dirk, then back at Georgia.
"Yeah," Dirk added in, hand at the back of his neck. "Thanks, Georgia!"
"'Course." She graced them with a fluttery smile, the pretty leaves decorating a poisonous flower as she spat venom at them. "You two dingbats deserve each other."
She slammed the door behind her to punctuate her point.
The mountaintop was a favorite of his, of theirs, and it's where she raced off to atop Dakota.
It wasn't any warmer than yesterday, but it sure was muggier. Georgia was glad she'd bothered to shower last night, even though she'd been swimming all day. Otherwise, she'd probably smell about as fresh as a skunk's tail-end, with how much she was sweating despite it only bein' mid-morning. She felt sticky all over and each breath came out thick and heavy, like she'd been plunged into a bowl of simmering soup.
Even bein' out here in tip-top condition took its toll, forget if she were bein' held together by gauze and band-aids, like Kana was.
Was he insane? How could he be so responsible and independent, yet not possess a lick of common sense? Sure, it was usually cooler up at the mountain's apex, thanks to a slight breeze, but not by much.
She slowed Dakota to a steady walk, turning towards the peak and the breath-taking horizon beyond it, when something caught her attention out the corner of her eye, over by the Goddess Spring.
Not Kana, but a chestnut-colored lump. Hayate? No doubt about it, that was Kana's beloved horse, snoozin' away in the green grass surrounding the spring.
Georgia guided Dakota in the direction of the spring. She thought to call out, to Hayate, but just as her mouth opened, she froze, jerked Dakota to a halt. Now that she was closer, she could see, mostly hidden by Hayate, was Kana. More accurately, she could only see his feet, suggesting he was stretched out loungin' against her.
"Kana?" Sounded like she was imitatin' a frog, how croaky it came out.
He didn't stir. And just the image flashin' back to her, no less than a full day ago, of him unresponsive to her frantic pleas that he answer her, that he open his eyes, that he please be okay you... you...
She couldn't gather the words then, but they came flyin' out now.
"You moron!" She nearly fell off Dakota as she dismounted and dashed over to him. "Kana! Kana!"
Muttering to himself in a groggy haze, he barely had time to move, to acknowledge her before she sunk to her knees and threw her arms around him. Hayate had risen to her hooves already, so there was nothin' behind Kana to keep Georgia's hug from knocking him to the grass.
"Georgia..? What are you—"
"Dammit, Kana! I'm glad you didn't die." She couldn't help it; she socked him on the shoulder as she sat back, astride his waist. "'Cause I'm about to kill you for makin' me suffer like that!"
Her eyes were prickling fierce again, when she took in the bandage wrapped entirely around his head. Pieces of his long hair carefully layered over it, and she might've thought it handsome if he didn't look well on his way to becoming a mummy. She hung her head, unable to look at him any longer. "Dammit, what is wrong with you! I thought you were a goner!"
Kana scooted out from under her, helping her to her feet—not as simple a task with operation of only one arm. "Listen, Georgia, I'm sorry. I wanted to—"
She threw his hand off, not caring what he wanted. "And whaddya think you're doin' out here? And goin' 'bout your chores, tendin' to the horses, all that. You're supposed to be gettin' some shut-eye!"
"Dude, I was resting. Out here." His uninjured arm flew out to indicate the area around them. "I can't stay cooped up in a damn bed all day. 'Least, not in the morning, when the sun's not high in the sky yet; Hiro said that I'm gonna be sensitive to that for a while. Thought I'd take Hayate up here, not to ride, just to... relax. It's always nice here. Comfortable."
It was more than nice; it was perfect here, by the pond. It always was, weather-wise. Right now, it was pleasantly cool, free of humidity; good sleepin' weather, she and Dad would call it. Georgia had noticed that in the winter, it was warmer here than it was elsewhere, so much so that the pond didn't freeze over no matter how frigid the temperature was in town.
"And besides," he went on, "I wanted some time to think about... y'know, how to tell you how sorry I am."
"And?" Georgia asked skeptically. "Come up with anything?"
He shook his head. "I don't think there's any thing I can say. I thought, maybe, 'bout picking some flowers for you. Somethin' to really show I was sorry. I was gonna ask Phillip to put some sunflowers aside and—"
"No, Kana!" She burst out at him, getting up in his face. "That's your problem, involvin' Phillip and Dirk and whoever else in your decisions. I don't want Phillip's danged sunflowers, I just want you to—"
"I'm sorry! Georgia, I'm sorry, I don't know what else to even say except that, a bajillion times over. I screwed this all up, alright? And I completely get it if you don't ever wanna talk to me again. If this was a deal-breaker."
Before Georgia could reply, Kana turned, walking several strides away. She wasn't used to seein' him like this: ashamed, hurtin' more on the inside than all the injuries he'd incurred on the outside. He didn't have to elaborate on what the deal-breaker applied to.
Georgia followed, coming up alongside him. "It ain't a deal-breaker. I'm mad, but... I don't want anythin' else broken today. I want things gettin' fixed, you understand?" Carefully, she reached for a hand half-encased in a cast. Not that survivin' the fall wasn't lucky in and of itself, but Kana's broken wrist was his left one—not his dominant right. Another small favor granted him by fate. "How long you gotta wear this thing? Feels silly askin', but is it bad?"
"Well, I landed on it, so yeah, it's pretty bad. Hiro said it probably saved the rest of me from getting banged up any worse, all my weight comin' down on my wrist. I wasn't even trying to turn my body, but I guess I did, y'know, when you put your arms out when you fall?" He pulled his hand from hers to mime what he did when he fell—not that Georgia could rightly recall what happened, all of it being a horrific blur. "If I hadn't done that, I coulda landed right on my head, or neck. Bad enough that it snapped out and gave me this goose egg." He gingerly touched behind his head, wincing as he grazed what must've been a nasty bump. Georgia had collected a wealth of scrapes and scars over the years, both from riding and workin' in the stables, but nothin' on par with Kana's current assortment.
"You could have died, Kana, or been paralzyed." She tried her damnedest to keep her tone even; she was only repeatin' facts, after all.
"I know, Georgia. Hiro gave me that lecture twenty times over."
"And all for a kiss? You're unbelievable."
"Hey, hold up." He glanced over at her, befuddled. "It wasn't all for a kiss."
She thought she'd settled down, but him outright lyin' to her was enough to light the fuse again—and here she was, a powder keg fit to explode.
"Oh, quit your fibbin'! I know allll about Dirk and Phillip's little scheme! You were konked out last night, but I heard Hiro givin' them what-for 'bout it at the clinic." She could hear the horses across the pond, snortin' and carrying on from her raisin' her voice, but smothering it down was hopeless. "You know what my dad always told me? That just 'cause my friends all do one thing, doesn't mean I gotta, and you know what example he used? 'Georgia, if all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you go and do it too?' And dang it, Kana, it's so outrageous, no one actually does it! It's just a metaphor!"
"I think," Kana hesitantly replied, "technically, it's called an idiom..."
"Well, then it fits, 'cause it's only one letter off from 'idiot', which is what you are! You literally jumped off a damn cliff because Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum goaded you on to, all to try an' kiss me? Didn't that, at any point, sound about ten different kinds of stupid to ya?"
"Yes! Georgia, listen to me," he pleaded, going for her hand like she had with his, earlier. "I realized it was stupid. That's why I changed my mind, at least about tryin' to kiss you. I was just gonna jump in for the fun of it, but I wasn't gonna fake drowning like they wanted me to. I couldn't, not after all that we talked about, and after we almost... well..."
"That makes it any better? Any more acceptable?" Georgia shoved away, knowing it was too late; that he had already seen her tears, and savin' face wasn't an option anymore. Her pride, however, hadn't quite caught up to her heart. "And we didn't almost nothin'! What are you goin' on about?"
"Almost this."
Kana's hand—his good hand—tugged Georgia flush against his own body. Then it came up, strong fingers threading through her hair at the same time his lips landed squarely on hers. Of all the parts on Kana that had been busted, his mouth sure hadn't, and Georgia felt like she was the one tumblin' for forever, free-falling through the clearest, bluest sky.
She had to come back to earth though, and her heels rocked back as she slowly broke away from the kiss.
Kana exhaled a laugh, the kind she feared she'd never hear again... "I hope that that shows how sorry I am."
Georgia knew she was blushing furiously, but she was too relieved—and too thrilled—to care. "Why didn't you just do that in the first place? You coulda avoided this whole mess. Or you could've asked me out, and we coulda courted proper-like, gone on a real date, an' maybe you woulda got your kiss if it'd gone well. That's what a real man woulda done, makin' up his own mind 'stead of bowing to peer pressure and listening to those two blockheads."
"So'm I a real man now, making up my mind for myself, and all that?"
"I dunno, Kana. You're a real somethin', that's for sure."
Laughing again, Kana put his arms around Georgia. "All you're sayin', though—that's kinda what Hiro suggested."
"Well, he ain't a doctor for nothin'; he's got smarts to spare. When you count your blessings, you better count him twice."
"Trust me, I have..." Kana's face lit up, and his embrace tightened. "Oh, that's what I wanted to tell you! Hiro even helped me write a letter to my dad, while I was up all last night. About staying in Konohana."
"I know. Dirk told me this mornin', when I went askin' if he'd seen you or not. He said you'd given him a letter to your pops." Turnin' on the charm with a bat of her lashes, Georgia's voice went sugary. "Say, now, you didn't happen to mention me in this letter, hm?"
"No, not by name. I mentioned my friends in general, but you deserve your own letter, maybe in the near future. Depending on how things go."
"I think they'll go pretty danged swimmingly if you don't go throwin' yourself off any more cliffs." Georgia paused, drawin' from the interesting new development she'd stumbled upon not too long ago. "Y'know what? Actually, I think you might wanna avoid gettin' any advice concernin' girls period, from Dirk and Phillip. Don't think they're gonna be your most reliable source."
Kana's curiosity at her statement lasted a full second before it was washed aside by a self-assured smile. "I don't think I'll be needin' their help any time soon."
"No?"
"Nope." Kana lifted his hand momentarily, brushing back a renegade strand of hair from beside Georgia's temple. "You were the one who suggested I follow my heart. And there's a certain direction it's got me headed in right now. So for starters..."
"You're gonna follow it?" Georgia finished, grinning up at him.
"This might be the last thing you wanna hear, Georgia," Kana said, good arm securely around her waist and lifting her onto her toes, "but that's the plan."
And this plan, with Kana pulling Georgia up into a kiss worth writin' home about, went off without the slightest hitch.
It's over! Thank you everyone for reading - hopefully the payoff was worth the bumpy ride. A special shout out to Durotos for all the thoughtful feedback and encouraging words. :) Maybe I'll be back again with more HM fic in the not-so-distant future. It was fun returning, if even for short while, so hey... who knows? :D