Café D'Amour
Author's Note: If you don't know what 'fatuous' means, google it or something! :)
Chapter VII: Fatuous Doting Parents
"Your Majesty, I strongly advise you to observe the situation at hand before you do something…" wise, as he was, he thought carefully about his words, "insensible."
"Yes, yes, I know. But this is my son we're talking about." King Ryou paced the length of his immeasurable sleeping quarters, hands clasped behind his back. "What if he got kidnapped? And drop the formalities." he added, "No one else is here."
He smiled as he observed King Ryou. "Do not forget that he is trained in numerous forms of defensive and offensive techniques." Tall, dark, and handsome, like a real king from any fairy tale. Even in his early-forties, Ryou Hyuuga still glowed with boyish spirit and looked as attractive as he did in his early-twenties. Through the years they'd been together, he found that age never seemed to faze Ryou. The only small hints of any real aging were the few worry lines and wrinkles around his eyes and a some strands of silver hair.
"True." The king stopped pacing and turned to face his most loyal right-hand man and trusted friend, "Still, he is the only son of mine who is most suited to be heir to the throne. How can I not be worried about him?" He moved with a kind of grace that spoke of royalty and lowered himself on one of his cushioned, single settees. His fingers curled around the crystal flute, half-filled with wine, on the table next to him and brought it to his lips.
"What of the young prince, then?"
Ryou shook his head slowly, "Like you said, he is young. And is the younger." With a flick of the wrist, the wine was swirling in the glass. "Our tradition is of utmost importance."
"Absolument." And the princess, being a princess, was out of the question.
(Absolutely)
"His resemblance to her is so miraculous." Restless, Ryou put his glass down and traveled to the mantel where a large framed picture, one he had personally painted, hung on the wall alone. The roaring fire beneath the mantel spit out sparks of gold and red. "I miss her so much."
He walked to where the king was and rested a hand on his shoulder. "We all do."
The simple, friendly gesture was enough to warm his heart. "What is my schedule for today?" He asked while staring into his late wife's still eyes of dark red.
"You have a meeting with the council members this afternoon," pulling it from memory, he continued, "and a dinner reserved with Mr. and Mrs. Imai this evening."
"Ah. They did so much to change technology in my day." Suddenly feeling old and tired, the king returned to his seat. "Their daughter has really owned up to their reputation and snatched their business from them, too." Nothing better than children who can surpass their parents, he mused. "I quite enjoy their company." He said as he took another swig of wine.
"I feel that way about them as well. Fortunately, their daughter is also joining us tonight as well."
I am looking forward to meeting her after all these years, he thought silently, I wonder how much she's grown. "Natsume is at the age when he should marry. Don't you agree?"
"Surely Your Majesty is not suggesting—"
"I am." Coolly, he picked up his flute and downed the rest of his wine. His friend was almost as tall as himself, but smaller in general and more delicate in build.
And easier to see through.
"Did you not promise him that you would not interfere with his life?"
Ryou winced. Slightly. "He breaks his promise of not running away. He gets away with it." He held up his flute and let it shimmer and glisten from the fire's wild movements. "Not only can I not break mine, I cannot even worry for the future of my children?" He paused—for dramatic effect and then pouted. "That is hardly fair."
He grimaced at the king's child-like behaviour. "How would you know if he and the one you will select for him will have mutual feelings?" Poor boy. He prayed for him, even while trying to save him from his doting father. "What if he is out there, finding the right girl, right now? Maybe...maybe he might learn a thing or two about earning a living and manners while he has escaped outside of your walls." When Ryou did not respond, he knew what he was thinking. "You do not even think that is possible, do you?"
The king pondered quietly a minute. Then he raised an eyebrow in sudden curiosity, "In all honesty, Izumi"—he cast a dangerous glance to his friend— "can you imagine my son doing any kind of common-folk work?"
"His Royal Highness Natsume de Castille?" Ryou nodded again, with a twinkle of amusement in his smiling eyes.
"The prince in servitude." Izumi knew that if he was not honest, the king could tell. After attempting to imagine it, Izumi blew out a breath. He couldn't even imagine it. "What a sight it could be."
His lips curved in laughter. "My thoughts exactly."
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"No, no!" Mikan cried out of frustration, "You can't wash dishes if you don't touch them!"
"Well, excusez-moi," (excuse me) When Natsume was annoyed, he'd slip into his French. He just couldn't touch those filthy plates. And whenever Mikan made an example to rinse, scrub, and rinse again, he didn't dare touch the ghastly sponge or water either. "Where do you get the guts to be near objects with such a foul smell?"
"You get used to it." Her shoulders slumped, thinking about the past and all this extra time she had. "I sure could've used that other part-time job."
"What was that?"
She glanced at the inconsiderate jerk. "Nothing."
"Oh yeah—I forgot to mention the message your friend left you." He wrinkled his brows and thought for a bit. "Something about… not being in school for the first month."
"Thanks. But I've already figured that out." She continued to keep her hands busy, refusing to think too deeply about it. "Hotaru doesn't act without a good reason. Which means she visited me only 'cause she forgot something." Mikan knew that Hotaru never did things, or visited just because. That doesn't mean Mikan couldn't wish for it though.
"You know," standing next to her and not doing anything, Natsume actually felt bad. "You don't have to help me with all of this." He mused, you do ninty-nine point nine-nine percent of it; I'll attempt to take care of the rest.
"I'm not going to do it for you for the rest of my life. Ever heard the saying 'give a man a fish and you'll feed him a day, teach a man how to fish and you feed him for a lifetime?'" She didn't even look at him—just the dishes she was washing, "Learn it now, and learn it well."
The night before, she stayed and did it for him because he would stop at least ten meters away from the sink, no closer. Since Narumi-sensei wasn't back and the café couldn't be opened without him, she somehow talked her way into returning in the morning to teach him more. Though it couldn't even be considered teaching. She was doing all the work. Natsume was a naturally bad pupil.
Though he had improved slightly. He could stand near the sink now.
"Why don't you just do it for me, then, for the rest of your life?" He leaned on the counter—the cleanest spot he could find—and tilted towards her to make sure he was in her line of vision. "I could hire you." When she didn't react, he decided to take the dive. "Or you could marry me." It was very satisfying to watch her body jerk and turn immobile.
"Stop that." She pulled herself out of shock and continued to wash, "Marriage is no joke."
Only a small nagging voice at the back of his head asked a single question of which he ignored: Why is this girl against marriage when normal girls would be delighted at the prospect of it all?
He shrugged and dropped the topic quickly. The thought of it was making him want to gag anyway. "So," Natsume picked up an apple nearby, took a big bite into it, and chewed as he spoke. "That mean you got a boyfriend, then?"
"None of your business."
"Oh. A girlfriend, then?" He had to fight to keep a smile from forming when her head whipped around with an annoyed expression. A kind of sexy one, too. He thought it weird how she was totally unaware of her own beauty, completely unselfconscious. Then he realized that that was maybe why he felt a tiny bit attracted to her in the first place.
"Look here, Mr. I've-Had-Everything-I've-Wanted-Since-Forever, if you've got the time to talk, then maybe you should use it to start washing these instead." She dropped the sponge and cup she was holding and pulled off the yellow gloves. Slapping it against the counter, she stepped back and gestured with her palms open up and smiled ever so sweetly. "Be my guest."
He flinched visibly. "Er…I have not finished eating yet." He twisted the hand which held the apple and took another crunchy bite.
A vein on her forehead was about to pop, knowing it was impossible to get him to start washing it now. "You're intolerable."
Natsume smiled triumphantly. "So I've heard."
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"Narumi!" Running, Misaki drew his wooden sword up with both hands, "Come back with my beans, you crooked crook!"
"Aw, lighten up a bit, Misaki!" Narumi-sensei had both hands grasped on the scrunched up opening of a large bag over his shoulder. One that could easily be mistaken as Santa's sack of gifts. "You know I'm a sucker for your beans!" He turned his head back to give him the most gratifying smile he could manage. "And I came all this way to get 'em too!"
"I don't care." When he was close enough, Misaki swung his sword towards him. "You're stealing royal beans. That's a crime!"
"Maybe so, except I didn't borrow them 'cause they were royal!" Narumi-sensei dodged the sword with what looked like years of experience. "It's because they were planted by your talented self and because you're my best buddy in the whole wide world!" He dashed ahead when his car came in sight. "I can't possibly get arrested for that!"
"'Borrow,' my derrière(butt/rear)! Why the hell would you come all the way to Castille when you can go to a nearby market to get some? Legally!"
"Like I said," Narumi-sensei hopped into his green beetle through the open window with one smooth jump and dropped the bloated bag on the passenger seat, "You planted them." He turned the keys and the engine kicked to life, "And your beans are the best in the world to bake and all that good stuff!"
"Don't worry. I'll make sure to leave some for you, honey!" Digging his foot on the gas pedal, Narumi-sensei drove off, "Much appreciated, toodles!"
"Argh!" Routed, Misaki stopped chasing and stared after his beetle as he thought out loud. "You came out here for other reasons, right?" Still upset about his beans, Misaki turned around and booted a rock that happened to be on the path. After a minute or so, he crouched where he stood and bent his head between his knees with his arms resting on them.
"Je veux mes haricots!"
(I want my beans!)
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Author's Note: Just kidding! If you were too lazy to google and/or it, then I'm going to tell you what it means. In short: silly, foolish, dense, or even stupid! Something that also perfectly describes Mikan. You learn something new everyday!
You're welcome :)
Red Strings Of Fate