Help Line

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Chapter 6

I woke up the next morning at a sensible 8am, giving me two-and-a-half hours before I had to meet Boss at the restaurant at 10:30. I washed myself and scrubbed my hair; I had to look presentable for the first day of work. I couldn't let this opportunity go to waste.

I sat on the squeaky bed as I towel dried my hair, smelling of cheap coconut shampoo. My mind was racing with as much work experience as I remembered, how to answer phones, how to work a register, how to greet customers and the best ways I remembered orders and numbers - a tapping technique. Staring at myself in the mirror across the room, I stitched a practiced smile onto my face and said, "Good morning! What are you after today?"

It sounded chipper and plastic. Perfect.

I forced myself to stop pacing the small space of my hotel room, nervously touching my ratling, shell earrings. I forced a long breath up my nose and out through my mouth, stomach expanding to deepen the inhalation, before I sat myself down on the edge of my bed. I fished for my phone and made myself comfortable, listening to the rain knocking on the window as I watched some mindless funny cat videos to calm down.

Seven video compilations deep and giggling maniacally, I was startled out of my humour by my screen going dark and an alert appearing: 10pm, get to work!

With a deep-throated screech, I shoved my feet into my shoes and then stalled. I stared down at my feet with a slow rising dread. These were cheap flats, not something you'd want to stand in for 7-9 hours at a time. Oh, I was fucked.

"First paycheck," I whispered to myself before pushing out the door and making my way to the street.

My umbrella pulled against my grip in the wind and rain, backsplash soaking me up to the ankles as I jogged through it. The lights of Takesushi glowed through the torrential downpour and I sprinted the last stretch, scrambling beneath the cover just as a sheet of rain hit the rooftops in a deafening cacophony.

"Mary-san!" Boss greeted, looking up from his workstation with a grin. "Get a bit damp on the way, I see!"

"A bit," I laughed self-deprecatingly, beating the water off my umbrella before slotting it into a stand with only three others.

"We've got some spare towels you can use to dry off," Boss assured, before putting his hands on his hips and said, "But with the rain comes a blessing for you! Customers will be sparse today, everyone will be hiding at home. Perfect for your first shift."

"Sounds good," I smiled, "And thanks, again, for this."

"Oh, none of that, come on," he waved me into the shop, "If anything you came at just the right time. One of my servers told me this morning that they'll be returning to America tomorrow so I'd be one short without you."

Boss led me through the restaurant and around the counter, showing me how to unlatch the doors to the ready-made takeaway meals. He then got me to follow him through a curtain and into the Takesushi kitchen.

Two young men were already working in the kitchens, one of them almost aggressively washing rice while the other was leaning over a stack of crates and writing on a clipboard.

"These are Tanaka-san and Adir-san," he introduced, gesturing to each. "They're our main working force and you'll most likely see them around. You won't be working in the kitchen much though, since you're fresh, we'll keep you to taking orders and clean up, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," I agreed, looking at the sheer array of knives and bamboo sheets around the place that I had no idea how to even begin to use. "I know how to prepare rice too, though my-" I paused and withheld a wince. Nope, nope keep it cool, no breakdowns on the first day of work. "Mum used to say I made it with too much water. She was always a bit picky though."

The rice always felt fine to me when I made it, so what if it had to sit in the cooker for a bit longer? Especially when she went on and on about 'half white, half brown'. Different grains need different water levels!

I gave a disgruntled sniff at myself before snapping my head up as a hand laid on my shoulder. Boss was giving me a kind, understanding look that seemed to carry a weight with it, before he squeezed my shoulder and said, "Don't rush it, Mary-san, these things will take time."

For some reason, I didn't think he was talking about learning how much water to cook rice in.

"Now, let's see if we can get you fitted for a uniform. What size are you in unisex?"

"Anywhere between medium and small, probably," I answered.

"Wonderful." the man reached into a closet and handed me a simple white and black uniform not dissimilar to his own. "Now about those shoes. They might have passed in an office space, but I can't let you walk around a restaurant in those."

I winced and looked down at my glorified cardboard of black flats.

"I know, but my only other option was heels," I admitted, shuffling my feet uncomfortably. "I was hoping to skirt by until I could afford some proper walking shoes."

Boss gave a sigh and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head at me.

"While you're still hopping hotels? Mary-san, by the time you can afford shoes worth putting on your feet I'll be paying you compensation for feet and back problems!" Despite his scolding tone, he said this with a warm smile. Then he looked at me for a moment, before he gestured, "Wait here for a minute, I think we'll have something that'll fit you."

I nodded and moved to sit at a booth while he disappeared through the doorway I knew led to the Yamamoto household. I kicked my feet idly, and looked around the place, trying to get a good layout of the restaurant. It wasn't a very large space, but it was spacious enough to seat five booths and ten stools around the sushi train section. There was a display fridge on the far wall, stocked with soft drinks and water, with the alcohol seeming to be hidden behind the counter.

"Here we are!" Boss chimed as he walked back into the restaurant.

I turned to him and instantly saw the sad dip to his eyes, that once jovial man all but cradling a shoebox in his hands. I sat up straighter and bit back the instinctive "what's wrong? Wanna talk about it over hot chips?" that tried to lurch out, having comforted too many cousins and siblings.

I didn't think offering my Boss hot chips would help his situation, however. His sadness looked too deep, like it had seeped to his bones and settled there for months now. He had done well to cover it up, but like leaking plumbing, repainting the wall isn't going to stop the water coming through, eventually.

"You look like a size 5 or 6, right?" He asked, coming to a stop in front of me.

"Size 5, yeah."

Boss smiled a little, but it didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Try these on, give them a feel."

I carefully took the offered shoebox from the old Yamamoto's hands and opened it to find a pair of walking shoes inside. They were a bit roughed up, small scuffs soles and some dirt on the ends of the white laces. There were also patches of paint dotted around, like the owners of these shoes had been a bit clumsy with their pallets.

I slipped off my shoddy flat and slid my feet into the shoes, testing them fit around the toes and heel. My thick socks took up some of the space in there, but if I weren't wearing them, the shoes would have been as close to a perfect fit as I could hope.

"How is it?"

"Fits like a glove," I smiled.

"That's good," Boss hummed, fiddling with the box lid. "They've been in storage for a while, but she would have wanted to help. Put them to use."

I sat there for a second, my brain making several jumps. Oh dear, he was talking about his late wife. Oh hell, should I be wearing these? Oooooh, hell. Should I- Should I talk about it with him? I mean, he's my Boss but like, little Yamamoto is kind of dealing with his outbursts so maybe if he talked it out with someone the kid would-

"She sounds wonderful," I uttered, adjusting my footing to see a splotch of minty green. The sporty bean's desk in his bedroom had been painted the same shade. "You...must miss her. So much."

Boss's eyes didn't stray from the box in his hands, "More than you could believe. She was everything."

I looked at him for a moment, seeing all the uncles, second and further, who had lost their partners. All those funerals with an empty hospital bed as the only physical remnant in the house of a grieving widower.

I missed my family. I still had (wavering, don't think about it) hope of returning. I could only imagine how he felt.

Boss lifted his eyes from the shoebox and smiled at me, a little pained smile. The corners of his eyes looked red, and his breath sounded broken.

I smiled, "It's okay to miss those you've lost. I have people I miss too, I understand. Even if only a little."

Something flashed across the man's face before he seemed to deflate, like something that had been hanging him from the rafters had come undone and finally let him loose. He let out a breath and closed the shoebox, placing it down on the booth table.

"Keep them. She would have killed me if she knew I left you to walk around on cardboard."

"Thank you," I smiled, "To you, and your wife."

"Ayame," he supplied. "Ayame-chan who could never figure out how long to boil an egg. Who needed velcro shoes until she finished middle school. Who could never keep her paint on the palate- do you know how long it takes to get paint out of tatami? You can't."

I couldn't help the laugh that lurched from me, hearing the sheer exasperation in his voice. Like he had been penting up that petty complaint for years. It felt good to laugh; I think that had been the first time I properly laughed since I got here.

His voice was still thick, but it didn't crack anymore. His shoulders had lost that pained curl but still held an exhausted slant. His eyes brighter, but I could still see the red of so many nights in a lonely bed.

A quick, or even a long conversation wasn't going to aleve the loss of a loved one. Humans aren't a flip of the switch, we can't turn off our grief. He was going to have to sit with it, it could take him months, or it could take him years. That was up to him and the support systems he had in place.

Yamamoto Takeshi was being affected by this, but to fix that, Yamamoto Tsuyoshi needed someone to help him as well.

"Okay!" Boss boomed suddenly, rubbing his face before he clapped his hands. "Lets get you up and running! Have you ever used a register before?"

"Yes," I answered quickly. He wanted to move on. I wouldn't stop him. "Though registers are different per franchise, right?"

"For some stores, yes, but we've just got a default one here at our humble little shop."

Boss proceeded to spend the rest of the rainy day walking me through how to use the register and the emergency register open that's rigged to contact the Central Namimori Police Station. He showed me all the different sushi we offered, and when he saw the vacant look in my eyes he laughed and sneakily showed me what turned out to be a cheat sheet with all the codes.

The plates were easy enough to remember, colour coordinated on the sushi train. All I needed to do was count how many of each colour and do was plug the numbers in and the register would do everything else. It was the orders and takeaways that would trip me up, specific requests, allergies or intolerances needed to be taken seriously.

"We're serving food, Mary-san," Boss warned as he showed me the order slips. "We need to make sure we know what we're given to people. If we give nuts to someone with a nut allergy, not only will we get in trouble, we could put someone in danger. Make sure you check with the customer and make sure you write big and clear so the kitchen gets it right too."

"Of course," I nodded.

"Good," he said firmly. "I'll give you a few booklets and some time in the staff room for some training modules. Take your time, read them properly."

Another wave of rain hit the rooftops. Yeah, I didn't think they'd need too many hands on deck today.

"Other than that, remember, you work for me, not for whatever picky bastard walks through that door. If someone gives you a hard time, don't bother trying to de-escalate, just get me and I'll either straighten them out, or throw them out. You're paid to run a register and serve food, not deal with adults acting like kids because they didn't like what they ordered, or they don't think something should cost a certain amount."

Oh God, now I was gonna cry.

"Okay," I sniffed.

"Don't worry about being rude, Tanaka-san and Adir-san have told customers to 'fuck off' at least fifteen times between the two of them. I usually just give them a thumbs up from the kitchen when I see they've got it handled," he laughed, "Now, let's get you on those training modules. While you're doing that, I'll set you up a staff account."

Basic customer service etiquette, how to de-escalate a conflict and who to contact, fair worker's rights, hygiene, codes of conduct and exactly where things stop being my problem and I need to defer to the Boss. All these things were covered over the next few hours. I tried not to look away from the screen too much. When I did, the English letters would blur into kanji and I'd choke on the water Boss had tossed me.

I spent most of my day like that, doing modules and reading booklets. I had two half-hour breaks, only one of which I spent eating and only because Boss shoved a plate under my nose with "try this, it's a new recipe" like I hadn't seen that model on the display rack, dust in the cracks.

We spent some time walking through etiquette and I got to meet Tanaka and Adir properly as they gave me a bit of a walkthrough of the kitchen. I wasn't going to be cooking anything, but Adir hinted that I'd likely get dishwasher duty whenever I wasn't on the register.

"Totally fine," I nodded, "I actually like cleaning. It's kind of therapeutic, especially when it's repetitive."

"Yeah, I used to like cleaning, too," Adir sighed wistfully.

"Not me, the fun part of cooking is using the knife," Tanaka grinned, short hair pulled back by a white cloth and sleeves rolled all the way to the shoulders. "You ever cut straight through a head of cabbage or lettuce? Pure bliss I tell you."

"Which is why I work in arranging," Adir huffed, giving his coworker a light shove, "and this loose cannon works on prepping ingredients."

I watched as Tanaka nodded before the insult registered and he snapped around with a loud, pterodactyl squawk. The two men immediately started standing off, arms out and shifting like a pair of posturing snakes. Neither of them did more than lurch at each other, a cold war of sorts no doubt frozen over by the Boss standing in the doorway, a rolled-up newspaper in hand just waiting for one of them to do something dumb.

I smiled; I don't think I'd mind working here at all.

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By the end of the day, I only rung up maybe five customers after watching the Boss model it twice. He said it was an especially slow day from the rain and to not get too used to this kind of flow.

We were closing up shop for the night, Adir teaching me how to count the till, while Boss and Tanaka locked the goods inwards bay. I balanced out the till and profit. The register always needing to start the day with $200 in cash and the rest went to the Boss for processing.

"Done counting?" Adir asked, and I nodded after checking everything for the third time. "Profit goes in the zip bag. Then everything goes into the green bag."

"Then we lock it," I finished, snapping the tag in place that would prove if anyone had tampered with it.

"And you're done! Grab all the paperwork, shove it in the folder and we let the Boss deal with all the hard stuff."

I smiled a bit and handed the folder full of receipts, checks and redeemed vouchers over to Adir who used it to smack Tanaka across the back of the head just as he walked passed.

"You bitch-"

I ducked around them before they could start slapping each other like they had in the kitchen. For men in their mid-to-late twenties, they sure did like to roughhouse like teens.

"Hey Boss," I uttered, shifting a bit as I entered the office.

He was sitting at the desk and quietly plugging in numbers before smiling when he acknowledged me.

"Mary-san, come on in. Registers counted?"

"Yeah, but uh, they're having a bit of a tussle outside," I said slowly, before straightening up. "Can I take up some more of your time? I know you're probably tired, but I was wondering if you could walk me through some paperwork?"

The Boss glanced at the clock and gave a big stretch in his chair, rolling away from his desk with a long sigh.

"How about you stay for dinner as we go over any questions you have together?"

"Oh, I couldn't impose, you've had a long day-"

"And I said we'd go over it sometime today," he tutted, "We were meant to go over it in your break but someone had to push over the soup!"

"I said I was sorry!"

I blinked before nervously scratching my jaw, and as Boss walked past me to go break up whatever lover's spat was going on, I realised that it really wasn't up to me whether I stayed for dinner or not.

"Takeshi-kun! Guess who's back!?" Boss boomed as he walked into the house through the dividing door, a squeamish me scutting in afterwards.

"Eh!?" Heavy footsteps came down the hall and purely out of muscle memory, I braced myself before the now-familiar sensation of a child trying to take out my kneecaps commenced. "Mary-san!"

"Hey, Yamamoto-san," I smiled, wondering why they were all so huggey. "How're you doing, bean?"

"I'm great! Hey! Hey! I got my score back for the planet thingy! I got a B!"

"Awesome!" I praised enthusiastically.

"Okay, okay, get off her you grabby little gremlin," Boss scolded good-naturedly and descended upon his son with tickling fingers that made Yamamoto screech and use me as a meat shield. "Ha! Coward! Hiding behind a guest!"

"You're just jealous 'cause Mary-san likes me more, old man!" The youth shot back.

I looked between them and for a single, painful moment I saw my uncle John and cousin Sally fighting over their tiramisu dessert they had every Friday night. For a moment I saw my cousin Benjamin and sister Pearl, Western-style facing down with spray bottles in hand. For a moment I saw my brother Cameron and cousin Jackson swearing at each other down the hall because Cameron didn't replace the toilet paper and Jackson was now trapped. For a moment I saw my auntie Tiana and auntie Jenny chasing each other around the kitchen because 'oh my god you went and met your ex Richard without telling me girl you're just asking for a heartbreak, Samantha come get a load of this dumbass-'

I blinked and stared at the ceiling, willing the sting in my eyes to fade and burn in my throat to soothe. Hold it in and hold it tight; you can come undone in your bed, Mary-

"Mary-san?" Yamamoto asked, and I jumped to attention, realising the quiet that had filled the living room.

"Huh?" I looked down at him. "What're you doing making claims like that? The position of favourite is highly coveted, you've gotta work hard for that one, bean!"

Takeshi shrieked as I squatted down and caught him around the middle, tickling him an inch of his life. He shouted and writhed, spouting lines of betrayal and obviously quoting some sort of TV show I had never seen before.

I grinned and let him run away, disappearing around the back of his couch. A hand came down on my shoulder and I looked over. Boss was smiling at me, the same kind of smile Dad would give me. Only this smile was so entirely Boss.

I gave him a weak, but thankful smile. He nodded in understanding and urged me further into the house.

Boss put a large pot of broth on the stove and some rice noodles in water to soak before he had me sit at their small dining table. He sat beside me, a jug of water ready, and I dug through my bag for the file the woman from the soba shop had given me.

The little Yamamoto blinked at us before going into his bedroom. Not seconds later, he returned with a little handheld console, a Gameboy of some incarnation, and laid himself on the rug, feet in front of the heater, headphones in his ears.

"So, what's the issue, Mary-san?" Boss asked once everyone had settled.

"Well," I blinked, as every question I had suddenly fled from my mind. There was too much to think about, and the overload made everything a white noise that I couldn't decipher and verbalise.

Nonetheless, Boss waited patiently for me to sort myself out. I grabbed my notebook and pulled up my To Do List.

To Do List

- Refill water bottle (X)

- Read through papers (X)

- Take a shower (X)

- Open a bank account - can do online? [Postpone] ( )

- Order hanko - talk to Boss [Postpone] ( )

- Organise work with Boss (X)

- Get food - non-perishable, nut bars? (X)

- Try contacts again (X)

- Start looking for next accommodation ( )

"Uh, I need to open a bank account," I said, "But to do that, I need a billing address and place of residence. And to get that I need a h-hanko?"

"Hanko," Boss agreed, showing I had pronounced it right. "And I understand, these sorts of things get overwhelming very quickly."

"Yeah," I sighed, a part of me so thankful to hear that and that I wasn't making a huge problem out of something others could do by themselves. "Do I really need a hanko? The website said I could use my signature instead."

"Sometimes your signature will be okay, but the hanko is more universal in Japan. But, here's the good news: It's really easy to get yourself a hanko. Tourists do it all the time. There's even a shop in Namimori centre for it."

"Really?" I gasped, and when he nodded I felt a wave of relief.

"It'll be open tomorrow, I think. Tomoe-san's Hanko-ya. On the Northern end around the corner of the travel agents. I don't know their times anymore, though."

"I'll swing by, it's okay. Thank you so much," I heaved, and quickly fumbled for a pen, writing the directions down along with 'Tomoe-san Hankoya' next to -' Order hanko - talk to Boss [Postpone]'.

Boss smiled at me as he waited for me to finish making notes, taking a drink of water. He leant on his elbows as I finished.

"Now, the next issue. Billing address and place of residence?" He hummed and I felt the weight again.

"I'll need to find a place to rent," I admitted, before giving a weak smile. "I had...Had hoped to be home before it came to this but- But I guess it's not just going to go away."

I shook my head quickly, berating myself internally for laying that on a grieving man. He had already comforted me once today, no need to dig myself further.

"...Not everything can go back to how it was. No matter how much we want it to," Boss said slowly, looking at his son who still had his headphones plugged into his game. "But, in the opinion of his humble chef, you're doing a great job dealing with it."

I looked down at my notebook, letting his words wash over me. I nodded and didn't say anything more on the matter. Now wasn't the time to unpack that, the burn in the back of my throat was becoming too strong.

"Are-" I cleared my throat. "Are there any units available for rent around here? The cheaper the better, really."

"I'm not sure how close you're going to get to this area. It's mostly single-storey houses and family homes here," Boss warned, and he got up to start flipping through a stack of brochures on the corner of the kitchen counter. He came back and opened a local real estate pamphlet, skipping over all the advertised houses to show a general map of the Namimori area. "If we're talking about the cheapest part of town, we're going to be looking around these couple of blocks."

I watched as he traced his finger around a back area that seemed like a fifteen-twenty minute walk from the main Namimori center, where we were currently. The good part about Namimori was that everything was very close to each other.

I blinked as I spotted an advert that boasted the shorelines of Namimori Bay, a snapshot of off-white sand and a rocky island bank in the middle of a gulf-bay.

"There's a beach?" I uttered before I could stop myself.

"Yeah," Boss smiled, "Great place to visit, though it's not much beach weather right now."

It was Winter now; I wasn't hoping to be here until Summer but- Something settled in my stomach, heavy, like a rock sunk to the bottom of a riverbank.

"I'll keep that in mind," I managed to whisper out, trying to keep the resigned heartbreak out of my voice. I reached up and touched my earrings, tracing the shell's ridges in a therapeutic touch.

Boss watched me for a moment before he said, "Those are nice earrings, Mary-san."

"Thank you," I smiled, and traced the braided golden hoop that attached the ear to the shell. "Kinda a family heirloom. Dad said my great-something grandma brought it with her when she left her home country and went to England."

Oversharing again. But talking about my family helped. I couldn't find any trace of my family, immediate or the sprawling branches of second and third cousins, fourth aunts or great uncles, like they had never existed at all. I had been here for nearly a week, and I think I was just searching for someone who would turn and say 'oh yeah! James Smith, he played the piano for the local primary school, right?'. Even if it was just repeating what I had told them, I just needed someone other than me to remember.

"What was her country?" Boss asked gently.

"Nan said Belgium," I answered. "But great-aunt Lucy swears it was Italy."

The corner of Boss' smile twitched but I didn't have time to decipher what may have caused it as he stood up and stretched, the pot on the stove bubbling viciously.

"Takeshi-kun, come help set up dinner!" Boss called and Yamamoto lifted his head off the floor, taking an earbud out to check if he had been called on. "Yeah, you. Get up, get the bowls."

Dinner at the Yamamoto's was a different affair to the Sawada household. Nana and Tsuna had chattered happily and gently, soft chiding and the occasional swoop to save whatever Tsuna, bless his soul, had knocked over. Boss and Yamamoto, however, were loud, boisterous laughter, loving, bratty jabs at each other and far too many references to baseball that went way over my head.

"Mary-san! Did you play any sports!?" Yamamoto asked loudly, his father railing him up with talk of baseball scores.

"Me?" I blinked, before tilting my head. "Uh, I played some? Touch football, softball and volleyball. I also played a bit of squash with my dad when he had time."

"What's squash? Isn't that a pumpkin?" he asked.

"There's also a pumpkin-looking thing called squash, yeah," I laughed, "But the sport is like...tennis, or badminton, but you hit this little ball against a wall and your opponent is standing next to you. The court is this room, sometimes with a glass wall, and there are zones painted in red lines that you need to hit the ball between."

Yamamoto seemed to be having trouble imagining it, but Boss smiled and said, "There's a squash court in the plaza gym. You've seen it, Takeshi-kun."

"Really?" the boy blinked, then whipped around to me, "Mary-san, play with me!"

"...One day," I smiled, "When it's less rainy and hectic."

Yamamoto grinned and for some reason, I felt like he was going to follow up on that promise.

: : :

I sat down on the hotel bed with a soft wheeze, a paper printout of my roster in hand. Boss had brought me in pretty much every day he could afford me: Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. I had Wednesday and weekends off.

Still, four days was good, and it gave me time to sort myself out. I didn't think that I could handle five or six days of work, not in my current state.

I glanced at my phone and reached for it, gently taking up the device and pulled up my contacts list. Two contacts. My jaw clenched as I opened the new Sawada Nana.

"Hello! This is the Sawada residence!" Came Nana's cheery voice.

"Nana-san," Mary hummed, "It's Mary, how are you?"

"Ah, Mary-san! I'm well, I'm well. How are you? How was your first day of work? Did you eat enough today? I know people can get caught up in all the rush."

It took me a second to catch up with all the talking. Nana was always quick to chatter an ear off whenever I saw her. I suppose she wasn't exaggerating when she said she needed time to socialise outside of Tsuna.

"Yes, uh, Boss made sure I ate," I assured quickly, "But I got my timetable for work so I just wanted to update you on that - if you still wanted me to, you know, look after Tsuna-san sometimes."

I scratched my cheek as I trailed off, wondering if I was being presumptuous and that she hadn't been serious about me, a random stranger, taking on her child for hours at a time.

"Really! Oh, give me a second I'll get some paper to write this down..." A scuffling came through the phone and the distinct sound of someone trying to get a stubborn pen to work. "Tsu-kun, I need a pen. A pen. Yes, thank you- Okay, Mary-san, go ahead!"

"Sure, it's, uh," I grabbed my roster and unfolded it. "So I'm working Monday and Tuesday 'till three, and Thursday eleven to six; Friday two to eight."

"Okay, got that down!" Nana confirmed before quickly reciting the times back to me. "So, what days would you like to look after little Tsu-kun?"

"Ah," I pressed the page down against my sheets, looking at each time carefully. "Well, I suppose I could come after work on Monday and Tuesday?"

"Three o'clock? Oh, would you like to pick up Tsuna-kun from school then?"

"I wouldn't mind that at all," I assured, "I will need to know what school he goes to though, if that's okay."

"Of course! Namimori Elementary; the central school," she told me gently, and I made a note of that on a scrap piece of paper. "Oh! And, do you think you'd be able to come on Sundays? I've found this lovely group to join."

"Sure! Sure I can do that. What time?"

"I think, eleven to six?"

"Wow," I uttered suddenly. "What're you doing that takes all that time."

"I haven't had Nana Time in years, Mary-san~!" she giggled. "I'll be trying out a lot of stuff! Going on walks! Meeting people!"

I laughed a bit at the sheer joy in the woman's voice. I remembered my aunts and own mother being exhausted and drawn thin and they had an entire family as support. I had seen the pictures in Nana's house; she was on her own.

"Sounds good. Oh, what time would you be home on Monday and Tuesday? Or will that vary?"

"Oh yes, we got a bit derailed there," Nana murmured sheepishly, "Roughly six or seven? But- But, if I could, I'd ask you to hang around just an hour longer to help settle Tsuna-kun for the night."

"So we're looking at eight? Okay, I'll make sure to write that down," I hummed, before looking over the notes I had written.

Monday-Tuesday: 3-8 (Pick Tsuna up from school: Namimori Elementary) (Nana back at 6/7)

Sunday: 11-6

"Brilliant! I'll tell Tsu-kun and we can talk again to hash out all those nitty-gritty details, haha. Oh, he's going to be so excited! Okay, okay, I'll let you go before I work myself up again. Have a good rest, Mary-san! I'll call you, uh, tomorrow? Will you be free?"

"Yeah! I have work tomorrow, but I'll be finished at nine if that's not too late. Or we could call in a break?"

"Nine it is! I wouldn't want to bother you at work. I'll let you call me, so I won't rush you."

"Sounds good," I nodded, "Goodnight, Nana-san. Tell Tsuna-san I said hi!"

"Will do! Goodnight!"

I let the phone drop onto the bed and rubbed my face with a great yawn. Rain was pelting the windows and made my tiny room feel so cosy, another yawn building up and making tears well up.

"Shower time," I grumbled.

Boss had booked me in for work tomorrow at two o'clock, but I intended to sleep early tonight. I had a lot to do tomorrow.