Till Our Lives Burn Out

Chapter 004-This is This and That is That

(Part 2)

After the initial rush, the staff at Juuban Secondary General seemed to be getting a handle on the crisis. No one seemed to need anymore translation help for the moment. The latest bunch of injured to arrive were all Japanese. Kuryakin was looking for some other way to help out when he noticed a baby grand piano near the wall. 'That'll do,' he smiled. He sat down, played a few runs, and his face twitched a bit. It was only passably in tune, and certainly not up to performance standards, but he had neither the time, nor the tools, nor the inclination to tune it. Hoping to provide a calming atmosphere while not making a nuisance of himself, he played very softly at first. He started with some classical, and then began mixing in what little Euro pop he could remember (read: tolerate), a few fado songs he liked, some Broadway show tunes, and a few little, original 'thoughts.' Hotaru finished her sandwich and began to wander a bit while he was playing. She knew what it was like to be in pain –chronic and acute- and looked at some of the people with an "I wish I could do something to help" look on her face.

A few more injured arrived but they too were all Japanese: commuters or people heading out to do some shopping who were caught up in the accident. One of them, a boy with his very concerned looking father in tow, was the last of them. A nurse came over to help the boy. His father, a clean cut, white collar type, also appeared to be favoring his left wrist, but was much more worried about his son. The boy was in a lot of pain, and working hard not to cry. His shirt was off and bruising had begun showing along the length of his collarbone. The EMTs had put his arm in a sling and given him something for pain, but it wasn't enough, so the nurse gave the boy a reinforcing shot, and told him he'd go to X-Ray as soon as they could get him in there. Then she began examining his father's wrist.

Hotaru quietly came up behind the boy, and then looked around. Thirty seconds or so was all she would need. Kuryakin was focused on the piano. Setsuna and Dr. Mizuno were on the far side of the room. Everyone else was either too far away to notice what was going on in this corner of the room, or had their backs turned for the moment. She crouched down behind the bed, reached up through the plastic slats to put a hand on the boy's shoulder from behind and a faint pink aura surrounded her. The boy felt the hand and the relief of the healing. He turned to see who, or what, was doing this, but his vision was fuzzy from the morphine. In the haze, he saw a pretty face with violet eyes, framed by curtains of shiny sable hair. She smiled at him, then drew her hand out and slipped away - sure that no one but the boy had seen her. Hotaru snuck back over near the piano and sat down looking a lot happier.

"Any requests, Hotaru-kun?" asked Kuryakin.

"I don't really know any popular songs," she said, as saw the boy she'd helped being taken to X-Ray. It occurred to her that she had just caused a mystery, and she'd better be careful since the boy had seen her.

"How about this one, then?" he smiled.

"Oh yes, I love that one," she said, as he began playing Debussy's Arabesque No. 1. "It's like dancing in a dream."

She listened raptly. When the song was over, she noticed the slips of paper sitting on top of the piano and asked, "What are those?"

"Requests for songs. People have been bringing them up."

"And you do them all from memory? Wow."

"If I know the tune, of course. Read a couple for me, Hotaru-kun."

She picked up a few and tried to read them.

"Kuryakin-sensei, I can't read these. Other than some English, I don't know any foreign languages."

"The first duty of a scholar, Hotaru-kun, is to learn languages. After mid-terms, I'd like to firm up your English and maybe start you on another language of your choosing, and see how fast your nimble brain can pick one up. For now, I want you to try and phonetically tell me what that one says."

She began to puzzle it out.

"Ressu Pair-a-prueez dee Chairu-boorgu…"

Kuryakin's expression visibly fell.

"Next one, Hotaru-kun," he said very deliberately.

"Don't you know that one?" Hotaru asked.

"Yes. I do. I know it too well. Next, please."

Just then the woman, a lightly injured French national, who sent the request for The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, came over to make her request in person.

"Mais, Ma'amselle," Kuryakin said, pleadingly, "c'est une chanson plutôt triste. Non bon pour une salle de triage d'hôpital, convenez-vous ?"

(But ma'am, it's a rather sad song. Not appropriate for a hospital triage ward, don't you agree?)

"Mais c'est mon favori. Pas vous, s'il vous plait?" asked the woman, rather silkily.

(But it's my favorite. Won't you, please?)

Kuryakin wanted to say he would sooner play the Horst Wessel song with third degree burns on his hands. Instead, he relented.

"Oui, Ma'amselle, certainment."

(Yes, ma'am, certainly.)

"How many other languages do you know?" asked Hotaru.

"Oh, a few," he said. "You cannot understand another people until you can dream their dreams in their language."

Hotaru smiled at that idea. As he played that 'horribly maudlin tune,' the lady who requested it sat staring wistfully at the ceiling. Kuryakin turned to Hotaru, rolled his eyes and made a quiet gagging sound. She smiled with a hand to her lips, though she thought the song was very pretty if very sad. Thirty minutes that included two run-throughs of I Will Wait For You from The Umbrellas of Cherbourg later, Hotaru noticed that the boy she had healed was poking his head through the door at the far entrance, looking for something. She quickly slid out of her chair and slipped behind the piano.

"Hotaru-kun?"

"Yes, Kuryakin-sensei?"

"Why are you crouching behind the piano?" he asked slyly, as he was finishing up "Out of My Dreams" from "Oklahoma!".

"I … uh, like the sound down here."

"Uh huh."

He looked at another request slip. This one was in French too, but there was something both odd and familiar about the writing. He looked quizzically at it for almost a minute, then smiled, folded it very carefully, pocketed it, and began playing.

"That's a pretty song. What's it called?" Hotaru whispered from below. She thought she had heard it somewhere before.

"When I Fall In Love. Nat King Cole sings it best, and the harmonic rhythm at certain points in his arrangement is almost sublime. Hotaru-kun, you can come up from there. That young man you're avoiding is gone."

She gulped. 'Did he see that?'

"How did you know I was avoiding him?"

"Well, you were looking right at him when he poked his head in, and then you hid. I wasn't that hard to figure out. Do you know him?"

"Erm, I just met him earlier, while you were playing."

"What's the matter, Hotaru-kun? Did he get fresh with you?"

"Uh, no," she said, blushing.

"It's not my place to say, but aren't you about due for a boyfriend? Couldn't tell too well from here, but he looked like a nice young man."

'He did seem nice,' thought Hotaru, as she blushed furiously. 'And he was very cute, and brave, the way he kept from crying.'


A few hours later, Setsuna was still with Dr. Mizuno, and it appeared they had succeeded in establishing order and were about to take a break. The main part of the job was done and now it was time for the paper pushers to come in and figure out how this was to be paid for. Several officials from the German, French and a few other embassies had arrived. Dr. Mizuno was completely impressed with Setsuna, and intended to let her know, later. Hotaru was talking to some of the younger Japanese people among the injured. Kuryakin had reached the end of his rope –the kind with a noose at the end - where having to play "I Will Wait For You" again and again was concerned. Since love songs made up the bulk of requests he'd received, he ended the night's music with medley of "If I Loved You" and "You'll Never Walk Alone." The commissary staff was passing refreshments to the exhausted nursing staff. He saw Setsuna and Dr. Mizuno sitting down to take a break, grabbed an unattended drink cart standing off to one side, and headed straight for them.

"Doctor, how about something to drink?"

"Oh yes, thank you, Kuryakin-kun. Coffee, regular. Cream and sugar. Lots of sugar."

"You haven't changed either" he smiled, as he poured cream into her coffee, and handed it to her. "One hyper-powered pick-me-up for the doctor."

"Thank you for all your help tonight."

"Well, I suffered along with everyone else, Dr. Mizuno."

"Oh, are you hurt?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"No, no. Do you know the song 'I Will Wait for You'?"

"Yes, from The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. I love that movie. I thought I heard you playing it a couple of times tonight."

"Not a couple. Ten. Ten times!" he said with an increasingly crazed look in his eye. "That little French lady made me play it ten times!"

"And?"

"I hate that song," he growled melodramatically. "It's trite, saccharine, musical euthanasia: eight bars, and you want to kill yourself. Hardly appropriate here."

Dr. Mizuno chuckled a little, and Setsuna smiled, but then caught herself.

"Miss Meioh, would you like something?"

"No. Thank you, though," she said, more dismissively than she meant to sound.

"Very well," he said, and moved on.

Dr. Mizuno eyed her curiously.

"So then, Meioh-san. If I remember your phone messages, he's tutoring that young lady over there?" she asked, motioning towards Hotaru.

"Yes."

"Beautiful young lady. But you don't look old enough to be her mother."

"I am her legal guardian," said Setsuna.

"Frankly, you don't quite look old enough for that, either."

It was said as a compliment and Setsuna took it as such, but at just such times, a reminder that she could not officially adopt Hotaru was sore spot with her.

"Thank you. I have a special provisional guardianship, currently pending review in the courts."

"I see," said Dr. Mizuno. She was mildly curious how Setsuna came to have such a charge, but let it go. "So, Meioh-san, what did you want to ask me?"

Here again, it was difficult to ask the question without generating suspicion about her reasons.

"I am ... curious about him."

"How so?"

"I take it Ami-san was once a student of his?"

"You know Ami, don't you?"

"Yes, Doctor, we've … met a few times."

"She was his very first official student."

Perfect. This was exactly who she needed to talk to. Now if she could just handle it right …

"Then how did you meet him?" asked Setsuna.

"He brought a friend to the hospital. I was on duty and took care of him. We got to talking and I asked him what he was doing here in Japan. He mentioned he taught English, and was going to open a cram school and do some private tutoring as well. I was intrigued. He is very intelligent, not to mention charming, and quite different. It was a cram school setting, so there would be other students. He seemed trust worthy, and since he was just starting out, the price he was asking was right. I'm always looking for anything I can do to help Ami further her studies, and I was very impressed by him; so I took a chance."

"I see."

"There was another reason too. He's … a man."

"Indeed."

"A good one."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Mizuno looked thoughtful, and then plunged ahead.

"Ami's father and I are … divorced. Even now, I would take him back, if he would be a responsible parent. But it's been so long now, I don't have any real hope of it. When I agreed to marry him, and when we had Ami, it was with the understanding that he would be there for our children because I was so busy. I not only resent that I have so little time for Ami, I regret that there was … that gap in her life. When Kuryakin-san described to me how he intended to teach his students, I realized that this was not going be just an assembly line cram school with every student wired into a computer. He meant to engage each one of them as individuals, as much as the situation allowed. I thought maybe someone like him could fill in that lack of a father, in some small way. I believe I was right. He ran the cram school for four terms. Even for Ami, there was marked improvement in how well she was doing. He also treated her with great kindness and respect, and he showed her that there are caring men in the world. Ami loves her father, and she's too sweet to make an issue of it. Like me, she gets on as best she can, and her best is very good indeed, but she's not blind to how irresponsible he has been and she can feel how hard it's been on me. I feel that Kuryakin-san helped Ami to find the trust that allowed her open up to those close friends she found later on. I almost begged him to take her on as one of his private students, but he said that Ami was superbly intelligent and disciplined and that she would do well no matter who was teaching her. I don't think he ever quite understood how much he'd helped her, and in what ways. Or maybe he did, and felt that he'd done all he could, or should."

"So you got to know him very well, but in the beginning he could not have had much in the way of references. I am wondering what made you trust him in the first place?"

"Well, references aside, what made you trust him in the first place? Really trust him, Meioh-san. Why does anyone trust anyone?"

The questions were meant rhetorically, but as Setsuna expected, Dr. Mizuno was super sharp, and had immediately seen the strangeness of what Setsuna was asking: why had she entrusted Hotaru to someone about whom she had even the slightest reservations?

'Was that why I had not attempted to contact her too vigorously? Strange, how circumstances are constantly pushing me to do what I say I want to do, but do not, it seems, truly wish.'

"There were other issues," continued Dr. Mizuno. "For one thing, the juku she was then attending was not getting the best out of her. Why do you ask, Meioh-san? Do you feel he is not doing well with your charge?"

"No, he has served her quite well, as far as I can tell."

"Then what is the problem?" asked Dr. Mizuno, rhetorically again, and with a slight smile.

"If I may ask, what happened to that friend he brought in?" Setsuna asked, just trying to change the subject.

"Oh. I remember that well. He … died."

"What?"

"He was an old man. A widower. Destitute. Alcoholic. Fought in the Pacific War."

Setsuna looked genuinely puzzled.

"It was just someone he had capriciously befriended?" she asked, a bit incredulously.

"Actually, there's a little story behind that. It was in the papers, so I don't think he'd mind me telling you. When he was living in America, he rented a house one summer. He got a bargain, but part of the deal was that he help out with minor repairs and refurbish the house. One day, he was up in the attic and he found a samurai sword. Not some stamped, cheap knock-off, but the real thing, hundreds of years old, with a damascened blade made by master craftsmen using the ancient ways. The house belonged to the widow of an American WWII Veteran, who had taken the sword home as the spoils of war. The sword had the name of its previous owner on it. Kuryakin was planning to visit Japan, so he bought the sword from the widow, and thought it would be a fun adventure to return it, if the owner was still alive and if he could find him. Otherwise, I think he intended to sell it to a museum or a collector. Apparently, it took quite a bit of effort, but he was able to find the owner, and discovered he was close to dying. He brought him here to die with some dignity, I think. I'm pretty sure he knew that we weren't going to be able to do anything. I remember that old, broken man lying on the bed, with his eyes closed, clutching that sword like the whole world had been given back to him. Then he died. Kuryakin saw to it that the sword was buried with him. I admit I was profoundly touched by such kindness. Now that I'm reminded of that, Meioh-san, I think that is why I found him instantly trustworthy. He was someone who seemed to know what people needed. I hoped he would realize the ways in which Ami needed help, and that he would take to her a little, and help her, like he did that man. I know he did take to her, and I truly believe he helped her."

Setsuna looked at Kuryakin as he chatted with Frau Schmitz, presumably in Lower Saxon. She was looking very relieved, and grateful. Her daughter had come out of surgery just fine, and she had just come from seeing her.

"You admire … you … like him, do you not?" asked Setsuna.

"Like?" She got a very distant, bittersweet look. In that moment, Dr. Seiko Mizuno could not have looked more like her daughter. "Meioh-san, everyone thinks about 'what might have been' if things had gone just a bit differently, don't they?"

Setsuna was silent. No one knew that better than she. No one.

"Make no mistake, though," she continued. "I wouldn't give up having Ami for anything. Whatever I have gone through, whatever I have to go through, I'll bear anything for her. I don't know why I am so comfortable telling you all this, Meioh-san. I must be tired. But I find you impressive, and we seem to be a lot alike. You seem like a together, insightful and trustworthy person, too. Life can be hard. Love while you can, as they say, and we girls have to stick together, after all."

Given how familiarly Kuryakin and Doctor Mizuno had acted toward each other, Setsuna doubted she'd heard the entire story. Obviously, Dr. Mizuno had told her as much as she thought she could, and maybe more than she should have. Anything further was probably a deeply private matter, and yet the merest suggestion of something more was, somehow, like catnip to her. She was not a gossip. If she had been, oh, the secrets she could tell. Part of the reason she was assigned her particular duty as a Senshi was, she felt, that she could be trusted to keep such matters to herself no matter what. Setsuna did not quite realize why, but she found it impossible to believe Kuryakin would have ever taken advantage of anyone, in any circumstances. Whatever 'the rest of the story' was, she was reasonably sure it would be yet another in the string of kindnesses Kuryakin ladled out with dazzling prodigality. Dr. Mizuno got up to go check on some of her new patients. Setsuna halfway rose to follow, but she told her "no, no, we can handle it from here. You go home and rest. Thank you. You can work with me anytime."

"Thank you," Setsuna said warmly, though even she might not have fully appreciated how profound a compliment she'd just been given.

Setsuna watched the triage area pensively. The crisis was past. The unyielding sense of urgency collapsed, leaving a reflective torpor, along with burning feet and weary bodies in its wake. Ami's mother was every bit as impressive as Setsuna would have expected given the quality of her daughter's character. Hotaru was chatting with a little blond girl and looking very sleepy. Kuryakin was one of three people still tending a drink cart. One of the others, an orderly, came by and offered her something. She politely refused, just as Hotaru noticed her sitting there. She said goodbye to the little girl and then took note as, curiously, after the orderly had moved out of earshot, Setsuna called to Kuryakin.

"Yes, Miss Meioh?" he said a bit tiredly, as he came over to her.

"May I have some apple juice, please?" she asked, in a voice equally tired.

"Oh, …" he said, looking a little surprised. "Sure."

"With ice, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, walking back to the cart.

He filled a glass with ice, poured in some juice, and holding it in proper Japanese fashion - carefully, with both hands- offered it to her.

"Thank you," she said, reaching for the cup. When she took it, her hand momentarily brushed his. He looked as if he realized this was the first time they'd ever touched.

"You're welcome," he said in such a soft, gentle way, she was suddenly struck by the strangest impulse: to set the cup on the floor, and stand up and … and … and it was a good thing Hotaru had sat down next to her.

"Hotaru-kun, do you need anything?" Kuryakin said with a wan smile.

"Just my bed," she said, as she stretched out and laid her head in Setsuna's lap. Setsuna stared down into eyes that were filled with admiration. "You really were wonderful to watch tonight, Setsuna-momma."

Setsuna smiled at her, and stroked her cheek.

"So, Miss Meioh," Kuryakin asked, "were you able to get a hold of the Koneko-chan Taxi Service, because I'd be happy to … oh, here they are."

His voice trailed off as saw Haruka and Michiru coming in the doorway. Hotaru caught the look of disappointment on his face; it was as unmistakable as it was fleeting.

"Hotaru-kun, I'll see you in the morning. Obviously, you don't need to worry about your homework tonight. We'll do it tomorrow, together. Good evening, Miss Meioh."

She nodded, and he took his leave without further ado. Hotaru yawned and thought about everything she'd seen tonight as she and Setsuna stood up and headed over to meet Haruka and Michiru. Weary Nurse Meioh remarked that they 'looked well-rested,' as the four Outer Planet Senshi exited the building and headed home. Haruka was quiet and yawned periodically as she drove, Michiru chatted idly about how beautiful the leaves had been, Setsuna looked more pensive than ever, and as Hotaru lay with her head in Setsuna's lap, a few more boxes in her sleepy mind were being checked off.


The Thursday lesson after that night at the hospital was the first time Hotaru had felt energetic that week at all. She had been quite listless during Tuesday's lessons, and part of it may have been that little extra expenditure of power. She got to bed as early as she could Tuesday night and Wednesday. Kuryakin was not tired the next day, or that Thursday. This was odd, because, though he hid it well, he often seemed tired lately. During lunch Thursday afternoon she wondered if, somehow, getting to see Setsuna could account for this new found energy. For her, this weekend might have been a good time to begin tackling that reading list Kuryakin gave her, except that she would sit midterm exams on Wednesday and Thursday of next week. So it would be all review until then. The reading list would have to wait. Again. These next few lesson days promised to be extremely dull. Kuryakin must've sensed how oppressive this felt because just before the end of lessons that Thursday, he presented Hotaru with a challenge and an opportunity.

"Hotaru, I'm going to make a deal with you. All this rote recitation of stuff you've already learned may actually dull your agile mind. So, I have a riddle I want you to solve. I will call you Sunday night to see how you've done. If you can solve it -without any help- we will take a trip to see the dolphins Monday morning. If you can't, and I'm serious now, we'll just spend the time reviewing. Understood?"

He handed her a slip of paper on which the riddle was written, and she began reading aloud:

Once upon a time, two knights sought the hand of a beautiful princess. They were excellent and honorable men, just in deeds and valiant in battle. But the king, who sought to marry his daughter to someone who would increase his fortune, did not wish for his daughter to marry either of them. So when the knights came to seek her hand, he set a challenge before them. They would race to the coast and back, and the horse that came in last would determine the winner. The two knights accepted the challenge immediately, and then almost as quickly realized they'd been had, for who could win a race where the last horse to cross the finish line won?

"See the problem?" he said. "Just imagine each guy trying to come in last. They would keep retreating from the finish line forever. Pretty shrewd king, eh? But read on."

Both of them loved the princess very much, and neither was willing to concede to the other. But they could not think of a solution to the king's challenge. Then they remembered the old man in the mountain, who was reputed to be very wise. They went to him, and agreed to pay him a good sum of money if he could solve their problem. He listened to the king's challenge. He thought for a minute and then said just two words. The knights looked at each other, smiled, and paid him his money.

What two words did the wise man say?

"And I can't ask for help from anyone?"

"Well," he said, "I don't think this one is really that hard, but then I already know the answer. If you really get bogged down, you can call me anytime this weekend and I'll give you one hint. Okay, the Kittens are here, so it's time to go home. I know you can do it. I've already made the reservations at the dolphinarium."

"Aren't you worried I'll cheat?"

He feigned a thoughtful look for a moment and said, "no."


More than a couple of times the next day, she flirted with the idea of searching the internet to find the answer. She really wanted to see the dolphins again, but that simple, single "no" prevented her. The closest she came to trying to get outside help was that night when she told the other Outer Senshi what the riddle was, after first making it clear that if they knew the answer they were not to tell her under any circumstances.

"Then, why are you telling us?" asked Michiru.

"To generate positive vibrations," she said, matter-of-factly. "I really want to see the dolphins again."

Haruka thought this was cute, but by Friday night no positive energies were in evidence, and the riddle had Hotaru stumped. She decided to get that extra help Kuryakin had offered her. She called and then hit "speakerphone" so she could be ready to write down anything he might say.

"Hotaru-kun?" he said, sounding very excited to get this chance to talk with her outside of lessons. "Well, what a pleasant if excitingly timed surprise. Good thing you called. I forgot to turn this off. I can't talk long. I'm about to go on stage."

"On … stage?"

"Yeah, I'm playing for some people tonight. Last minute substitution."

Sure enough, there was music playing in the background.

"Last minute substitution?"

"Yes, I tell you, sometimes I have the darndest luck. I'm going play piano on Rhapsody in Blue. The pianist who was supposed to play tonight? He had pufferfish for lunch, and now he's over at Juuban Secondary, getting his stomach pumped. I hope the guy is all right, but I know that one cold, and they had me come run through it, and they're satisfied I can do it."

"Hotaru, who's he playing for?" Michiru whispered.

"Where are you playing?"

"NHK Hall, for the NHK Philharmonic. They're doing an All-Gershwin, pops concert. So what's the problem?"

"NHK? We had tickets to that, didn't we?" Haruka whispered to Michiru who nodded.

"I'm so sorry, I'll call back …"

"No, no, I have about four minutes. Wish I had longer. Call me anytime with any problem. What's up?"

"Well, … it's that riddle."

"Ah, got you stumped has it? Need a little hint do you?"

"Just a little one, please?"

"Okay, there is a bit of a deception in it somewhere, so I'll give you this much. This riddle has a dozen variations in the way it's put, so forget the medieval imagery. Think, precisely now, about the challenge, and just ask yourself this question: 'given exactly what the king said, what one little thing do the two men have to do to make the race winnable?' Say it in two words. I'm counting on you, Hotaru-kun! Think it through. Let's have fun Monday."

In the background an audience was a applauding the piece that had just ended.

"I'll do my best," she with an uncertain smile. What little he'd given her didn't seem to be much help.

"Nothing less from you, Hotaru-kun. Okay, there's the curtain! Gotta go!"

"That concert should be on NHK-FM radio right now," Michiru said, as she got up from the couch.

"Yeah," Haruka said.

Michiru turned on the radio, found the station and sure enough the opening clarinet glissando of Rhapsody in Blue was just reaching its apex.

"That's really that guy?" said Haruka, after a few minutes of the piano entrance.

"He says music is the second best thing he does," said Hotaru.

"What is the first thing?" asked Setsuna, who had just come into the room with some fabric under her arm.

"He didn't say."

"He did not say, or he would not tell you?"

"Well, he was cryptic about it. He said 'I hope you never have to see that.' He looked really serious when he said it, too."

"He's good," Haruka admitted.

"He's playing it very slyly," said Michiru. "And Haruka? To play for the NHK Phil you have to be better than good. I wonder how he got 'in' with them in the first place?"

"Perhaps he tutored someone for an influential donor," said Setsuna airily. "That seems to be how he meets everyone."

"I thought you didn't like music," Michiru said casually.

"It is not that I dislike music," she said quietly. "I just did not like it as an academic subject. So then, do you still think there is nothing strange about him?"

'Strange?' thought Hotaru. "It's not a big secret he's musical, Setsuna-momma. You heard him the other night."

"Yes, Hotaru, but if he is as good as Michiru says, then we may append one more item to the list of talents in the incredible Mister Kuryakin's repertoire."

"Lots of people can play piano, Setsuna," said Haruka, smiling. "I'm good enough to accompany Michiru in a pinch. There's an athletic component in musicianship. He seems pretty fit."

"I know a couple of soccer players who play the piano incredibly well," said Michiru.

'Oh?' thought Haruka, with a raised eyebrow.

"But if I understand you correctly, Michiru, he would have to be world class to play for that orchestra."

"Okay, yes, Setsuna, he is unusual," conceded Michiru. "Very talented in a lot of ways. What's wrong with that? I too would be curious to hear his story, if he were willing to tell it. None of that makes him some kind of threat, which seems to be what you've been suggesting."

"Setsuna-momma, why would you think that?" Hotaru asked looking surprised and concerned. Hotaru had no idea the subject of her tutor came up for casual discussion at all. Apparently, he did come up now and then; this was merely the first time Hotaru had been present for it. It was certainly the first she'd ever heard of any … reservations about Kuryakin-sensei on Setsuna-momma's part. This might mean she would have to reassess what she thought she saw between them.

"Oh Hotaru," Setsuna said reassuringly, "that is not what I am thinking. I am very curious, I do admit, as to how so young a man is able to do so many things so well."

"When we first met, I checked him out in my mirror," said Michiru. "Nothing to worry about."

"Your mirror is not flawless in these matters," Setsuna said offhandedly.

"Neither is your time consciousness. Setsuna, he doesn't come up much, but when he does you always seem so … earnest," she said, smiling suggestively.

Setsuna looked like she was about to contradict this veiled hint in the strongest possible terms, but then, glancing at Hotaru, thought better of it.

"I wish we could watch," said Hotaru.

"You can, in two days," said Michiru. "They rebroadcast those concerts on NHK-BS2 on Sunday afternoon."

"Really? Oh, but … we're going shopping Sunday afternoon, aren't we?"

"We could record it for you," suggested Michiru.

The concert had reached intermission. The audience was applauding with some sincerity, it seemed. Hotaru was thinking hard about what Setsuna had just said, and decided that even if she was thinking of him in terms of a threat, it didn't make sense that threat was to the Sailor Senshi. Was this "threat" somehow personal? In the end, she thought this little revelation might in fact be one more sign of what she suspected. She smiled, but then warned herself that 'when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.' She decided to review all her checked boxes, and she also decided to examine what was more and more clearly her own desire to 'see something' that might not really be there. Meanwhile, Haruka had finished some reading for a class and Michiru was done typing some program notes for her next recital on her laptop.

"Okay," Haruka announced. "We're going out. This is a Friday night after all."