An Ordinary Day in the Life of Hikaru and Nova Shidou
A NonMagic Knight Rayearth Story
By: Sheo Darren
Here's some Algebra: D: {Magic Knight Rayearth/Magic Knight Rayearth Є CLAMP/KODANSHA, with exception of CLAMP not = to me}. For the mathematically challenged: The usual disclaimers apply.
I should quit complaining about Chobits After all, Chii is cute and kind and innocently adorable. (Damned perverted Hideki; I'll fry him). So, a change of tack: Why did CLAMP have to make X1999? Why?
Damn gay bishounen losers.
And they blew up Tokyo Tower, too...
Oh, and please proceed with my story.
Sorry for the long wait!!! Itadekimasu, ikuyo!
Chapter Three: Terror Professor DebonairEnglish class would usually be a chore for any energetic girl who would rather romp around in full kendo garb and take on a hundred opponents all at once rather than listen to an hour of boring lectures and write in an alphabet invented by long-dead Phoenicians.
English class is torture for all Japanese students. We all know why.
English class is especially horrendous because of three words in one name: War and Peace. If Tolstoy was still alive today, Hikaru would have beaten him to an inch of his life with her shinai.
It didn't help that the English professor was Hikaru's worst nightmare come true.
Debonair was an old and stern crone who would accurately fit the earlier description of a wicked old witch. She was impossibly strict: Put one toe out of line, let a strand of hair slip the wrong way, and you'd have her breathing down your neck, demanding why you weren't paying attention. Debonair was the exact anti-thesis of her name, 'ultraconservative' instead of 'dashing', less a teacher than an undead lich come out to devour your soul.
What was worse was that she positively hated Hikaru.
That was one thing the redhead knew very well. The grumpy Debonair seemed to take a hidden pleasure at seeing her squirm, going out of way to ask impromptu questions and recitals, scolding her twice as much as she tormented the other students. This made Hikaru the long-suffering 'bleeding-heart martyr' of her class.
Paradoxically, Nova always had the time of her life in English. To Hikaru's unending disbelief, her sister was a straight-A student who always submitted projects ahead of time and who somehow always got perfect marks on her exams where all the other students –minus Hikaru, who was smart enough on her own and whom Nova generously tutored – would miserably flunk. This made her Debonair's pet student, a role Nova played and enjoyed to the utmost.
Her heavy white make-up doing little to hide to the creases on her grim face, Debonair faced the class. She was talking in her creepy 'villainess' voice, meant to be as pleasing as someone grating his fingernails on the blackboard. "Two weeks ago, all of you were assigned to make a three-part theme on Shakespeare's Hamlet using the English language."
Everyone except Nova groaned or shuddered at the memory of that assignment. Normal English was bad enough; Shakespearean English (early 1700s Elizabethan English, with that awful British accent to boot!) was criminal. The only point of relief was that it wasn't American slang English, especially the Texan variety. Debonair was planning to solve that by assigning everyone The Grapes of Wrath.
Debonair called out a student's name and made her read her composition to the class out loud. Every now and then she would sternly correct pronunciation errors with a singular bark or command.
While the poor girl was sweating it out, Hikaru whispered to Nova a long-standing question she bore: "How on Earth can you stand her?"
The younger Shidou gave her sister a know-it-all look. "Oh, come on, Hikaru. Why can't you look at Mrs. Debonair from a different perspective?"
"It's because she's so grumpy to everyone, except when it comes to you!"
"She obviously thinks I'm kawaii."
That earned Nova a glare, which she countered with a grin.
"Shidou Hikaru!"
She knew she was in trouble when she heard her name called out. There was a sinking feeling in her gut that something was going to be very wrong today.
Hikaru got up awkwardly and asked, "Yes, Ma'am?"
Debonair fixed her a withering stare. "Your composition?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'll get it from my bag." It had taken Hikaru heavy help from Nova and their mom to write that frustratingly long and complex essay.
"See that you do." That last remark was cryptic to the bone.
Opening her schoolbag, Hikaru hurriedly rummaged through it, looking for her three-part theme. Debonair did not add to her composure; the professor/lich was clucking her tongue once every five seconds, sounding like a clock with a deadline ticking down. A more prompt analogy would be the timer on a bomb.
Where is it? Hikaru remembered very well that she had put the envelope containing her well-earned composition inside her bag...
...No, I didn't.
A flashback of their room when they left it reminded her that she had noticed an envelope on her desk. Hikaru had gotten the urge to pick it up, but just then Nova reminded her they were going to be late for their meet with Umi and Fuu.
"It can wait, Hikaru-chan," she had said.
That was the envelope that had my composition!
Nova, I am so going to kill you!
"Well?" Debonair demanded, looking at Hikaru impatiently.
The redhead swallowed hard. "Uh, ma'am, I left my composition at home."
Beside her, the startled Nova glanced at her twin.
"You left it?" There was a dangerous quiet to the professor's tone. "Or perhaps you mean you forgot to bring it?"
"It's at home, ma'am."
"Or perhaps you forgot to make your homework, would you?"
The accusation was not an insult, merely Debonair's first suspicion concerning all missing homework. But it still stung Hikaru badly. The redhead remembered that it was her sister's fault all this happened.
Nova, when we get home, you're going to be in deep trouble. You are so dead.
Correction: You won't get home at all. You won't see a sunset after this day!
If I'm still alive...
A hand shot up in the air, and to Hikaru's surprise Debonair took notice of it.
There was one person who could do that while the stingy professor was grilling a student and be certain to get her undivided attention. No, it was not Headmaster Clef; even the highest official of the school left Debonair to her own devices when it came to her class.
Who else would it be but Shidou Nova?
Rather surprised at this show of hand, Debonair turned to her pet student and asked in a much more gentle tone than the one she used to address the other students: "Yes, Miss Shidou Nova?"
"Uh, sensei, I have no way to explain myself." Nova was looking very ashamed and embarrassed of herself, the product of that very same acting skill she took Umi by unaware. "You see, Debonair-sama, I made a tiny little mistake."
"Well, what is it, then?" Debonair did not look strict at all with Nova, yet another sign that she played favorites –and hated all the rest.
Blushing and dilly-dallying for all she was worth, Nova burst out: "I accidentally exchanged homework with Hikaru! I brought hers with me while I left mine at home!"
Hikaru's knees nearly buckled in shock. Her sister had just sacrificed her hard-won work in order to make up for her mistake!
Nova was playing her ploy to the utmost. "See? Here, ma'am, is Hikaru's essay." She brandished her essay paper. Only in that instead of the name Nova written on it, there was Hikaru's name listed as owner.
Curiously and perhaps with a bit of suspicion, Debonair took the offered composition, scanned it quickly and pursed her eyebrows.
"Miss Shidou Hikaru," she asked coolly, "Is this your paper?"
Spotting the hidden, desperate wiggle of fingers on Nova's hand, Hikaru dumbly nodded.
Say yes, Nova's fingers were telling her.
"Yes, ma'am, that's my paper."
"Could you please explain why A Midsummer Night's Dream is a comedy?"
Luckily, Nova's composition was roughly of the same base ideas as Hikaru's. She herself had read through the latter's work to get an idea of how she should write. Plus, Hikaru had sort of liked reading A Midsummer Night's Dream.
"Ma'am, unlike Othello and Macbeth, the protagonists of A Midsummer Night's Dream succeed in their quests and regain their happiness without tragic consequences for their actions."
Debonair's brows pursed again, elating Hikaru. Mission Impossible complete: They had duped the old lich!
"Miss Shidou Nova," the elderly teacher told her erring student, "Next time, please make sure that your own paper is the one inside your bag. Who knows," and a smile flitted across her face, "You might just end up exchanging boyfriends one day if you keep being so careless."
The class forced a collective laugh, which Debonair silenced immediately with a stare. "Did I ask the class to laugh?"
Deathly silence.
"You may sit now, Miss Shidou. Both of you."
Hikaru slumped into her chair at the same time that Nova sank down on her own. The two were unnerved and exhausted by that crisis, but as their matching eyes met, the mutual delight in their eyes blossomed.
Their messages were eyes only, silent and personal.
Thanks.
Welcome, sis.