:: Anna ::
I simply could not face the bullet train tonight, even if it would be far less crowded than it usually was. So I walked all the way home. I would have run if it had been physically possible. But I couldn't. So I walked (trudged dejectedly, more realistically). The end result of this was it was nearly nine o'clok before I got back home to the Kazuya's. My host mother, Naoko Kazuya, was waiting for me anxiously in the living room of the small apartment, pretending to be mending something. "Anna-chan! Daijyoubu?" She demanded as soon as I entered. Was I okay? I wasn't sure anymore. "Hai, tabun, domo-arigato, Okasan." I answered, hoping she wouldn't notice my leg. She did, but didn't say anyhting, just ushered me to the bathroom with no further questions. Fine by me! My uniform was destroyed, I noted with dismay as I peeled off my dusty grey skirt, and blood-soaked knee sock. The collar of my middy-top was half torn off and was dangling down my back. The black kercheif was gone. No wonder my poor host Okasan was so concerned! I looked as though I'd crawled out of a war-zone! My skirt was torn, too. Thankfully, I had two extra uniforms. I threw the one I'd been wearing in a ball in the corner with every intention of throwing it out. Then I carefully unwrapped my leg and washed myself, and then settled into the bath for a nice, long hot soak. The hot water felt so good on my aching body that I must have spent ages in there. I forced myself to get out of the soothing water and dried off, hunting through the medicine cabinet until I found the nessecary materials needed to re-bind my leg. I wrapped myself in the towle, gathered my destroyed uniform, and shuffled to my room. I was sitting in my bra and panties on my bed, combing out my short wet hair and flipping idly through a magazine my real mother had sent me the previous night. There was an article about Orlando. Ordinarily, I would have ripped it out and pinned it to my wall, or glued it to my school notebook with the rest of my collection of beautiful faces, but tonight I simply read it, and studied the picture closely. The dramatic, smoldering, staring actor in the photo with the hard dark eyes was nothing like the quick-smiling, teasing, sensitive guy with the warm baby-browns I'd met in the train. The clothes and hair weren't even the same. It was strange. It was as if it was a picture of him, but not of him at all. A mystery. I was puzzling over it when I head a knock on our door, and the light shuffle of Okasan's feet as she moved to answer it. I didn't pay much attention until I heard Maia's muffled laugh. Only then did I realize I'd forgotten my school bag in Nurse Caroline's station. Maia would want to know all about everything, I knew. And then she would fret over my leg. I couldn't help but grin. Maia was such a sweetheart! you couldn't ask for a better friend. And she'd probably ridden her little scooter all the way from the school lot to here just to give me my bag, too! "Anna-chan!" Okasan called. "C'mon back, Maia! Domo-arigato gozaimas, Okasan!" I heard the soft tread of feet coming down the hall, but was thrown off when there was a knock at my door. What was she tring to do, kill me? I sighed and hoisted myself of the bed, hobbled over to the door and opened it. "God, Maia! When I say 'c'mon back', I means come back! You don't have to--" I stopped cold in mid sentence. Because Maia wasn't standing at my door. I stood there frozen as her beaming face appeared behind the shoulder of a young man who was holding my school bag and kercheif. A young man with gorgeous dark eyes, who was still wearing shredded fishnet material. A blushing young man named Orlando Bloom. I shreiked and slammed the door, ran back to my bed, and snatched my robe off of the bed post, tying it on and cursing Maia all the while. I barely had time to do this, however, because Maia, laughing hysterically, reopened the door and let herself in, trailed by Orlando, who was looking everywhere except at me. "We brought your bag!" Maia announced cheerfully. I glared at her and she glared back, and then began fussing over my leg. I grinned. Can I call it, or can I call it? "Well, I called my host family and told them I'd be right home just as soon as I dropped off you bag, Anna. So I guess I'd better be going!" Orlando and I made to protest as one, but we were quickly cut off by a grinning mini-matchmaker. "Orli, you can find your way back okay, right? Great. Tell Heath I said good night! Namarie!" She finished, and then she was gone. Puff! And I was left alone in my bedroom with Orlando Bloom, in my underwear and a flimsy robe. If he turned any redder, I could consider him the same shade as Heath Ledger's vinyl pants. "Thanks for bringing my bag back. I really need it. It has my passport and visa and everything." I started somewhat shyly. "I know... Heath went through it." He replied, feighning calmness. "He WHAT!?" I squawked. Orlando continued to scrutinize my kitten desk calender. "I told him not to, but he wanted to know who it belonged to. That's when Maia saw it and said it was yours. Nurse Caroline and her got together, and here I am. Sorry. I'll go now. Have a nice evening." He turned and began to march mechanically out the door. I bit my lip.
"Orlando...?" He stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn. "Yeah?"
"Your arm is bleeding." He started and glanced down. It was. He turned and frowned, and finally looked at me again. "Hold on a minute. I'll get a bandage and some peroxide." I mumbled before he could comment, then I gestured to the only seat in the room: the bed. I stood up and padded back to the medicine cabinet. Orlando Bloom was sitting on my bed. Orlando Bloom was sitting on my bed. Orlando Bloom was sitting on my bed! As mad as I was at her, I could've kissed Maia for giving me that to hold onto all my life, when I was the old crazy cat lady living next to her and we were eighty years old on our rocking chairs on the porch. I gathered the medical supplies and headed back to my room.
Orlando was still there, but something seemed wrong.
"Are you okay?" I asked, sitting next to him and soaking a tissue with peroxide. He watched me in silence for a few moments as I cleaned the scrape and wrapped it up like Nurse Caroline had my leg.
"What are you doing after classes tomorrow?" He asked. I nearly dropped the peroxide bottle. He was kidding! I looked up slowly and met his eyes. He was not!
"Nothing," I replied. My mouth was dry.
I simply could not face the bullet train tonight, even if it would be far less crowded than it usually was. So I walked all the way home. I would have run if it had been physically possible. But I couldn't. So I walked (trudged dejectedly, more realistically). The end result of this was it was nearly nine o'clok before I got back home to the Kazuya's. My host mother, Naoko Kazuya, was waiting for me anxiously in the living room of the small apartment, pretending to be mending something. "Anna-chan! Daijyoubu?" She demanded as soon as I entered. Was I okay? I wasn't sure anymore. "Hai, tabun, domo-arigato, Okasan." I answered, hoping she wouldn't notice my leg. She did, but didn't say anyhting, just ushered me to the bathroom with no further questions. Fine by me! My uniform was destroyed, I noted with dismay as I peeled off my dusty grey skirt, and blood-soaked knee sock. The collar of my middy-top was half torn off and was dangling down my back. The black kercheif was gone. No wonder my poor host Okasan was so concerned! I looked as though I'd crawled out of a war-zone! My skirt was torn, too. Thankfully, I had two extra uniforms. I threw the one I'd been wearing in a ball in the corner with every intention of throwing it out. Then I carefully unwrapped my leg and washed myself, and then settled into the bath for a nice, long hot soak. The hot water felt so good on my aching body that I must have spent ages in there. I forced myself to get out of the soothing water and dried off, hunting through the medicine cabinet until I found the nessecary materials needed to re-bind my leg. I wrapped myself in the towle, gathered my destroyed uniform, and shuffled to my room. I was sitting in my bra and panties on my bed, combing out my short wet hair and flipping idly through a magazine my real mother had sent me the previous night. There was an article about Orlando. Ordinarily, I would have ripped it out and pinned it to my wall, or glued it to my school notebook with the rest of my collection of beautiful faces, but tonight I simply read it, and studied the picture closely. The dramatic, smoldering, staring actor in the photo with the hard dark eyes was nothing like the quick-smiling, teasing, sensitive guy with the warm baby-browns I'd met in the train. The clothes and hair weren't even the same. It was strange. It was as if it was a picture of him, but not of him at all. A mystery. I was puzzling over it when I head a knock on our door, and the light shuffle of Okasan's feet as she moved to answer it. I didn't pay much attention until I heard Maia's muffled laugh. Only then did I realize I'd forgotten my school bag in Nurse Caroline's station. Maia would want to know all about everything, I knew. And then she would fret over my leg. I couldn't help but grin. Maia was such a sweetheart! you couldn't ask for a better friend. And she'd probably ridden her little scooter all the way from the school lot to here just to give me my bag, too! "Anna-chan!" Okasan called. "C'mon back, Maia! Domo-arigato gozaimas, Okasan!" I heard the soft tread of feet coming down the hall, but was thrown off when there was a knock at my door. What was she tring to do, kill me? I sighed and hoisted myself of the bed, hobbled over to the door and opened it. "God, Maia! When I say 'c'mon back', I means come back! You don't have to--" I stopped cold in mid sentence. Because Maia wasn't standing at my door. I stood there frozen as her beaming face appeared behind the shoulder of a young man who was holding my school bag and kercheif. A young man with gorgeous dark eyes, who was still wearing shredded fishnet material. A blushing young man named Orlando Bloom. I shreiked and slammed the door, ran back to my bed, and snatched my robe off of the bed post, tying it on and cursing Maia all the while. I barely had time to do this, however, because Maia, laughing hysterically, reopened the door and let herself in, trailed by Orlando, who was looking everywhere except at me. "We brought your bag!" Maia announced cheerfully. I glared at her and she glared back, and then began fussing over my leg. I grinned. Can I call it, or can I call it? "Well, I called my host family and told them I'd be right home just as soon as I dropped off you bag, Anna. So I guess I'd better be going!" Orlando and I made to protest as one, but we were quickly cut off by a grinning mini-matchmaker. "Orli, you can find your way back okay, right? Great. Tell Heath I said good night! Namarie!" She finished, and then she was gone. Puff! And I was left alone in my bedroom with Orlando Bloom, in my underwear and a flimsy robe. If he turned any redder, I could consider him the same shade as Heath Ledger's vinyl pants. "Thanks for bringing my bag back. I really need it. It has my passport and visa and everything." I started somewhat shyly. "I know... Heath went through it." He replied, feighning calmness. "He WHAT!?" I squawked. Orlando continued to scrutinize my kitten desk calender. "I told him not to, but he wanted to know who it belonged to. That's when Maia saw it and said it was yours. Nurse Caroline and her got together, and here I am. Sorry. I'll go now. Have a nice evening." He turned and began to march mechanically out the door. I bit my lip.
"Orlando...?" He stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn. "Yeah?"
"Your arm is bleeding." He started and glanced down. It was. He turned and frowned, and finally looked at me again. "Hold on a minute. I'll get a bandage and some peroxide." I mumbled before he could comment, then I gestured to the only seat in the room: the bed. I stood up and padded back to the medicine cabinet. Orlando Bloom was sitting on my bed. Orlando Bloom was sitting on my bed. Orlando Bloom was sitting on my bed! As mad as I was at her, I could've kissed Maia for giving me that to hold onto all my life, when I was the old crazy cat lady living next to her and we were eighty years old on our rocking chairs on the porch. I gathered the medical supplies and headed back to my room.
Orlando was still there, but something seemed wrong.
"Are you okay?" I asked, sitting next to him and soaking a tissue with peroxide. He watched me in silence for a few moments as I cleaned the scrape and wrapped it up like Nurse Caroline had my leg.
"What are you doing after classes tomorrow?" He asked. I nearly dropped the peroxide bottle. He was kidding! I looked up slowly and met his eyes. He was not!
"Nothing," I replied. My mouth was dry.