Disclaimer: ...don't own furi kuri....;.; it's so tragic lol
Authors Notes: .....O.o are those all MY reviews?...Really?....WOOHOO!!!! I love you people! Sorry for the delay in getting this up. I hope to get all my updates more frequent but now that this is finished, its off to write a chapter for 'Some Place Called Home', then I'll come back to this ^.~ once again, love you guys. I only got one complaint about Ninamori OOC, and I guess she is a bit, but I'm accounting for that by saying she grew up a little and developed humility and insecurities. Well on with the chapter!
A week and many more sausage discussions later, it was unofficially decided that Mamimi could stay to come and go as she pleased. And quite honestly I was glad that she'd chosen to stay.
"Hold it up like this Ta-kun, then flip!" The dough in Mamimi's hands flew up and twirled in circles above her head, before it descended and she caught it with grace. She looked up to me and smiled. "Italian pizza bread." I smiled too. I smiled a lot more these days. Mamimi made me smile.
She'd been regaling me the past few days with her stories. Everything that had happened in the time she's been gone. The places she'd been, the things she'd learned, the pictures she took. But then again, what was most surprising about that, was she really hadn't shown me any pictures. Not one. But right now I didn't think to care. It wasn't all that important. Just hearing her voice was enough.
"Ta-kun, watch out!" I blinked. "Wha-" SPLAT! ...it took a moment to register what just happened. But once it did I realized I had pizza dough all over my face. I reached up my hands to wipe it off slowly only to find Mamimi and Kanti staring wide eyed. ...Awkward silence?
Well almost; until Mamimi burst out laughing. I glared with dough still covering the better part of my face. "Hey!" That just made her laugh harder. I tried to clean more off my face and discovered some more in my hair. This whole fiasco, I had a feeling, would be a long lived memory.
Unfortunately for me, very long. Kanti just stared between the both of us and Mamimi continued to laugh. Getting most of the dough off, I tried to be mad or at least look it, but it was a futile attempt in all reality. Watching her laugh was just an absolute destroyer of my resolve to feel anything but glad. I had very few memories of her laughing; I mean truly laughing. It was one of those blue moon moments.
"Naota-kun?" Snapping out of my thoughts I turned around as Mamimi's laughing subsided. My father was standing in the kitchen doorway with a bag. "Yes?" I was almost skeptical of who he was talking to, because at the moment he had just called my name, but was obviously staring at Mamimi.
He snapped his head. "Oh yes, Naota-kun I was wondering if you could run an errand for me?" Staring for a moment I blinked. "What kind?" I guess most people would call that disrespect; to ask what the job was before accepting, but for heavens sake, this was Kamon.
He shifted his foot to the right slightly and tilted his sunglasses more over his eyes. "Could you deliver this bread down town for me? It's just a little ways over the bridge." he lifted the bag in emphasis. Staring some more I raised a wary brow. "Since when do we deliver bread?" My coughed lamely. "Naota, why do you ask so many questions of your poor father? Is it too much to ask that you do a simple job for me? Have I ever asked you so much?"
Now he was just getting weird. And this attitude he was putting on wasn't fooling me a bit; nor were
the sunglasses, under which, he was still staring at Mamimi. I turned my head in fake naivete. "Sure,
Mamimi wana come with?" I could almost hear my fathers face fall. I smirked inwardly. Mamimi
nearly answered, still completely oblivious, before Kamon jumped in again.
"No, no, no. Naota-kun, where are your manners? Saijima-san is our guest. She should stay here and relax." My face dropped facing opposite to him. Could he even fathom how obvious he constantly was being? "That's okay Nandaba-san, I'm pretty energetic." Glancing to Mamimi I noticed it must have dawned on her my fathers tactics, because her fake smile was strained.
"All the better to stick around;" I nearly choked on my own breath. Even Mamimi's eye's widened in horror. She really wasn't too much naïve like she had been. "And play a board game! I hear this new mortgage one is fantastic." He smiled cheekily, finishing his left off sentence. Mamimi was still very unconvinced. I turned back around. Kamon suddenly looked directly to me.
"Oh and Naota, the delivery is to Saijima residence. Wouldn't that be Saijima-san's parents?" No, it would be a pair of people completely unrelated in any way, shape, or form. But then I realized how that statement must have affected Mamimi. I turned around; she was staring down blankly. Damn.
She blinked lightly and looked up with a fake but less forced smile on. It almost seemed real. "Hm, wow I think I think I am a little tired, I think I'll stay here this time, kay Ta-kun?" I nodded. Maybe I was the only one who could tell that her smiled was fake. She suddenly made a point to look at Kamon. "I'll go stay up in your room while you deliver it."
My eye's widened a little less than my fathers. A warning; from Mamimi? "Alright," I said slightly dumbfounded. Mamimi walked out before I could leave and went up stairs; and I could knock my own father down for the way he was staring as she walked up them.
I grabbed the bag from him forcefully stealing back his attention. "I'll be back within the hour." He never realized I saw right through him. "Of course." And he saw my dutiful timing as a challenge.
~*~
Walking down the street had never been so…annoying. I was in no doubt that right now my father was trying to subtly seduce Mamimi, and she of course was having none of it. Depending on her mood, she was either ignoring him, refusing politely, or throwing lamps.
So far this week it hadn't come to that. Kamon had tried this a few times before; and each time Mamimi would act more and more independent and knowing than the last. She always would strike me as so normal now. It was…odd. Every time we talked she seemed like the same old Mamimi. The one that I always knew. But every so often, when it wasn't just around me, she'd slip, and say something wise, or mature; Making her seem more grown up. Which maybe she might not want to be.
You could tell she assumed them as slips because she regarded them as so, and would cover it up with another word. A sentence. An act. The only thing I'd deducted from this was that she was hiding something. Something I really wanted to find out. But I guess I'll have to wait .
At that thought I stopped a moment to find myself at the bridge, which seemed like as good a time as any to stop and check the slip of directions Kamon had given me. "123 fake street…" ….yes. Definitely the lamest of all his tricks I'd fallen for. I shook my head in disbelief. There really was no order, service- FLMP.
I looked down to see the rock that had broken through the paper bag I'd been carrying.
…OR bread, at all. Not one thing about this errand had any validity to it, and I'd gone all the way to the bridge before figuring that out. To go through all this, Kamon has evidently become more desperate than ever. I rolled my eyes.
In the wake of my utter self-humiliation, I stared blankly from the point of which I stood. Off to the side of the road, backing up to the great body of water that divided this town, the remains of the abandoned Medical Mechanica plant growing old and becoming just another dead part of the aging scenery behind me…and that timeless soda machine, still over five feet to my left.
…Well, when in Rome…
I had around fifty-four cents in my pocket, which was about four penny's more than what was needed to buy a drink. It used to be a quarter, but they raised it about six months after the strange thing that happened ceased to occur. It was a renewal; something to make them feel more worthy. Like they had just as much culture and popularity as any tourist town, to raise their vendors up another twenty-five cents.
I didn't really care, American vendors sold soda for fifty cents too. Tasuka told me that…before he stopped writing.
I dropped the broken bag roughly into the trash and rummaged around in my pocket. Finding the silver coins I stuffed them in one by one. Quarter, nickel, dime, 'nother nickel…until I'd put in fifty cents; then gazed lazily over the selection.
But someone pushed it for me. Lemonade.
I barely blinked before I spun around, not taking the time to be shocked that I hadn't noticed anyone come up behind me, or seen anyone before on the long open road. I just turned and yelled, "Hey-!" But after I'd said it, was about when the shock really kicked in. Not from before, but from the sight of who stood before me, with a tanned arm extended from a light shirt, holding out my drink.
"Here's your soda, Taro-kun." The woman smiled.
The only person who ever called me that: Haruko. And there were so many thoughts going through my head all at once, that I could only think of one thing.
I hate sour stuff.
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la, well I finally updated. A million apologies! I've been busy and grounded, (parents think computer is bad for my health) but let me know what you think! Oh and to everyone of the wonderful people that have reviewed and have yet to review, here is the soundtrack download link:
Also i've just finished my website so go to my profile and visit if you'd like! It has my fanfiction, origonalfiction and fanart posted, music, and a guest book. that would love to be signed...hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge.
~tl snow