When she was younger, she had wanted to be a cop. But somewhere along the line with Ryuji that dream had been hopelessly lost, there was no way she could be a policewoman and fight by his side with the Shinsengumi as well. She still regretted that, a little bit, though if she had to make the choice again it would be exactly the same. All her classmates were getting ready for graduation, to work or to enter universities. And there she was, sitting at her desk, listening to the teacher drone on about lines-tangent-to-the-second-derivative and getting married after graduation, just like some stupid little girl with nothing in her future but house-cleaning and cooking and welcoming the husband home with a pair of slippers and a hot cup of tea. Not that there was anything wrong with those things, necessarily. But they weren't the sort of things she was good at. Asago was getting married too, and she didn't think Asago was a stupid little girl. Asago had mellowed out a lot since the days when she had been engaged to Ryuji, she was more straightforward and perhaps, Tsukasa thought, a little more feminine. But she could still shoot between the eyes of a sparrow at 500 feet. Going to the range relaxes me Asago had told her. But honestly, these days I feel relieved that I'm not going to have to rely on that still my entire life. I worry more about Munakata getting hurt, because I can't always be there with him. He said he'd protect me. And you're going to protect Ryuji. Which do you think that's better? Having your husband protect you, instead of, like the Durga, you protecting him? Either way it's exhausting.
Her classmates avoided asking her about her plans for the future. The generally accepted rumor was that she was going to become a full-time yakuza, in which case she really couldn't tell them about it anyway.
She was also now an entire three weeks late and popping pepto-bismol like they were tic-tacs. Which was pretty much equivalent to the amount of relief they were providing. The little home pregnancy kit she had serrepticously purchased and used in the gas station rest room came up with little blue (+)es.
She could see Dr. Meiko in Ryuji's clinic, but if she did then everything would get passed on to Ryuji. She had enough money these days to go to the hospital and pay in cash, which she thought would grant her effective anonymity.
Mr. Kozuki? Her teacher asked. Could you please come to the board and tell me what the sign of the derivative suggests?
The serious temptation was to throw up all over his shoes.
She's moving out. Bun had assigned no less than 3 tails to Tsukasa. The idea was that they would rotate weeks, therefore making themselves less visible. The young guy, Sawara, was one of the best - she hadn't noticed him yet. In addition, he already understood the first rule of Tsukasa-watching, which was to call back as soon as she started to go anywhere. Otherwise the chances that she would spot the tail, catch them in an alleyway, and leave them behind with no cellphone or any other way of contacting headquarters to let them know she was gone.
She's at the hospital. He told Bun. She's going in, wait, she's coming out.
Tsukasa had just realized that going into the hospital wearing her protector and a boy's high school uniform - and explaining that she thought she might be pregnant - might not be a really good idea. She stood by the main entrance and looked up and down the street. For an instant she caught the gaze of a skinny man reading the newspaper, and she nodded at him vacantly. There was a clothing boutique on this road, she seemed to remember.
Oh, crap! Sawara said. Crap, crap. I think I've been spotted.
Bun sighed. Well, just keep an eye on her as long as you can, while she stays in public places. But if you lose her don't worry about it.
She found her way to the boutique and bought the cheapest outfit she could find, a skirt that flared slightly around the knees and a t-shirt with a simple design glossed onto the front. They didn't match at all but she decided that wasn't really the point. She changed in the train station restroom (she was beginning to feel a real connection with public restrooms) and marched back to the hospital. She was still wearing regulation school uniform shoes but hoped that they somehow fell into the big-and-clunky fashion.
She's back! Sawara yelled. She's changed her cloths, she's dressed like a girl now.
You haven't lost her?
Shit, Sawara thought, this was easy. The change in the restroom was really amateur. It was like she wasn't even trying.
