A different Toudai, Chapter 4
So Naru was coming too, thought Kitsune, as she refolded Shinobu's letter. Out of boredom she'd written a letter to Naru in Keitaro's hand and sent to the girls at Hinata Inn purely out of fun-if no one else did, at least Su would get a laugh out of it. But Shinobu's carefully clipped characters made no mention of that letter.
Since arriving in Osaka, her birthplace, Kitsune had rented herself a cozy little apartment on the second and top floor of the building. There were disadvantages to this of course-some nights the heater had broken and she'd felt like an ice cube; there had also been summery September days when she'd longed to be an ice cube. She'd gotten to know her neighbors a bit; there was only one way to describe the guy on her left-baka. Even more stupid than Keitaro, Kitsune had mused, smiling a little. He'd moved in a few days after her and was utterly dumbfounded that a young, single girl lived next to him, and was soon finding every excuse to knock on her door. She had considered kicking him over the balcony if he showed up again, but put that thought aside after thinking of Naru and Motoko, and just how much she missed them.
She still didn't know exactly why she'd left Hinata Inn. A change of scenery, an escape from a much-emptier home, to get away from Su's inventions-all these had played a part. Kitsune left Shinobu's letter on the desk and took out her wallet, removing the high school picture of herself and Naru.
Kitsune stared at the adolescent version of herself, as she had appeared three years ago. Naru had been fifteen years old, sporting a short little- girl type hairstyle, while she'd been eighteen and in her last year of high school. Despite their age difference, they'd always been close.
Seta-san. The name still brought a fluttering feeling to Kitsune's stomach- was it love, or embarrassment? She'd never been able to explain to Naru what had really happened that night-in short, just about nothing. She'd been on her way home when she ran into Seta-san, accompanied by Sarah, and he'd walked her home, since Hinata Inn was on the way anyway. Just the same, the younger brunette had initially shut herself up, refusing to have any contact with the outside world, and when she finally emerged, Kitsune had thought it better to just give up the whole subject.
Kitsune chose to take in her surroundings at that minute, reminding herself that she must not miss her stop. The train ride had actually been fairly smooth so far and she'd enjoyed looking out the window at all the cornfields and children playing by the rails. The only people sitting near her had been a gaggle of noisy girls who were bursting into giggling at random moments.
Konno Mitsune, 20 years old.
Her Osakan accent had fit right in the moment she stepped off the train three months ago-and in a strange sense, she felt that here she was home. Here everyone spoke with the same tone she did and didn't find some of her minor habits quirky. She'd quickly found herself a job as a teacher at a basic elementary school, teaching Japanese literature. The subject didn't interest her, nor did the idea of keeping fifty unruly students at bay for seven hours every day. However, it paid her enough to keep her little apartment and provided her with some vacation time. Kitsune had kept a fair distance from the other teachers, especially the male ones, not knowing just how long she would stay. For her there would only be Seta-san, and since he was gone, there would be no one. She wasn't interested in a relationship with anyone else.
Especially not with the guy next door, thought Kitsune, smiling to herself. He was probably at her door now, carrying a pan of homemade Christmas candy and wondering why she wasn't answering him.
Her hand shifted down to the bag underneath her seat, instinctively feeling for the rubber handle. In it, wrapped in the few clothes she'd brought, were the Christmas gifts she'd bought. A pretty Osakan style kimono for Motoko-she remembered how beautiful the kendo girl had looked last time they'd gone to a festival. There was a set of silverware for Shinobu, and a simple set of four china cups for Haruka-san to replace the ones that Su had supposedly destroyed. She'd purchased a set of hair things for Mutsumi san and for Su, a little radio that could fit in the palm of her hand. Knowing the younger girl, it would probably be in pieces by the end of the day.
Not expecting Keitaro to come, nor Seta-san or Sarah, Kitsune had been left with only one present left to buy: Naru's. She honestly didn't know how Naru would react to her presence. She'd hardly talked to the younger brunette since they'd gone their separate ways-and the fake letter from Keitaro didn't count, of course. In the end she'd purchased a box of chocolates, thinking that she couldn't go wrong there.
With all the presents, her bag weighed a lot more than she'd expected, and Kitsune found herself carrying it in her arms instead of slinging it over her shoulder as she'd intended.
She was almost there. Just one short bus ride between the floor tile on which she stood and Hinata Inn. . .
Or maybe she'd walk.
Kitsune pushed her way backwards from the bus stop, in the opposite direction of the majority of people, which were pushing towards the oncoming bus. Getting herself loose was one thing; getting her oversized bag out was another. Kitsune apologized, tugging on the strap. It promptly flew into her unready self and knocked her over. She got up quickly, hoping the china cups weren't broken, and began to walk. Behind her the bus pulled up and left.
It was mid-December and the weather seemed as cold as could be to Kitsune; the tiny bit of heat she had stored coming off from the train was rapidly seeping out of her coat. She glanced forlornly at the bus, now blocks ahead of her, and thought fervently that at least she wasn't lost. There was only a mile or so to go, but it certainly turned out to be the coldest mile. By the time Kitsune reached the foot of the huge flight of stairs that led to Hinata Inn, her arms were leaden with exhaustion from the weight of her bag and her legs too cold to feel anything. She half tossed her bag to the floor, dreading the shattering sound of china, but didn't hear it. Kitsune sat down on the very first step and hugged her knees to her chest.
She wasn't surprised when the first snowflake landed on her right knee and melted. The weather was certainly cold enough to produce snow.
Kitsune fetched her bag, now wet from melted snow, and slowly made her way up the stairs, taking what seemed like an eternity. Outside the door she paused, hearing the laughter inside. Overhead was a window from which streamed light. Fishing in her pocket with numb hands, Kitsune produced an icy metal key and managed to turn it.
She pushed open the door with one hand and left it there, while six heads turned toward her.
"I'm home."
So Naru was coming too, thought Kitsune, as she refolded Shinobu's letter. Out of boredom she'd written a letter to Naru in Keitaro's hand and sent to the girls at Hinata Inn purely out of fun-if no one else did, at least Su would get a laugh out of it. But Shinobu's carefully clipped characters made no mention of that letter.
Since arriving in Osaka, her birthplace, Kitsune had rented herself a cozy little apartment on the second and top floor of the building. There were disadvantages to this of course-some nights the heater had broken and she'd felt like an ice cube; there had also been summery September days when she'd longed to be an ice cube. She'd gotten to know her neighbors a bit; there was only one way to describe the guy on her left-baka. Even more stupid than Keitaro, Kitsune had mused, smiling a little. He'd moved in a few days after her and was utterly dumbfounded that a young, single girl lived next to him, and was soon finding every excuse to knock on her door. She had considered kicking him over the balcony if he showed up again, but put that thought aside after thinking of Naru and Motoko, and just how much she missed them.
She still didn't know exactly why she'd left Hinata Inn. A change of scenery, an escape from a much-emptier home, to get away from Su's inventions-all these had played a part. Kitsune left Shinobu's letter on the desk and took out her wallet, removing the high school picture of herself and Naru.
Kitsune stared at the adolescent version of herself, as she had appeared three years ago. Naru had been fifteen years old, sporting a short little- girl type hairstyle, while she'd been eighteen and in her last year of high school. Despite their age difference, they'd always been close.
Seta-san. The name still brought a fluttering feeling to Kitsune's stomach- was it love, or embarrassment? She'd never been able to explain to Naru what had really happened that night-in short, just about nothing. She'd been on her way home when she ran into Seta-san, accompanied by Sarah, and he'd walked her home, since Hinata Inn was on the way anyway. Just the same, the younger brunette had initially shut herself up, refusing to have any contact with the outside world, and when she finally emerged, Kitsune had thought it better to just give up the whole subject.
Kitsune chose to take in her surroundings at that minute, reminding herself that she must not miss her stop. The train ride had actually been fairly smooth so far and she'd enjoyed looking out the window at all the cornfields and children playing by the rails. The only people sitting near her had been a gaggle of noisy girls who were bursting into giggling at random moments.
Konno Mitsune, 20 years old.
Her Osakan accent had fit right in the moment she stepped off the train three months ago-and in a strange sense, she felt that here she was home. Here everyone spoke with the same tone she did and didn't find some of her minor habits quirky. She'd quickly found herself a job as a teacher at a basic elementary school, teaching Japanese literature. The subject didn't interest her, nor did the idea of keeping fifty unruly students at bay for seven hours every day. However, it paid her enough to keep her little apartment and provided her with some vacation time. Kitsune had kept a fair distance from the other teachers, especially the male ones, not knowing just how long she would stay. For her there would only be Seta-san, and since he was gone, there would be no one. She wasn't interested in a relationship with anyone else.
Especially not with the guy next door, thought Kitsune, smiling to herself. He was probably at her door now, carrying a pan of homemade Christmas candy and wondering why she wasn't answering him.
Her hand shifted down to the bag underneath her seat, instinctively feeling for the rubber handle. In it, wrapped in the few clothes she'd brought, were the Christmas gifts she'd bought. A pretty Osakan style kimono for Motoko-she remembered how beautiful the kendo girl had looked last time they'd gone to a festival. There was a set of silverware for Shinobu, and a simple set of four china cups for Haruka-san to replace the ones that Su had supposedly destroyed. She'd purchased a set of hair things for Mutsumi san and for Su, a little radio that could fit in the palm of her hand. Knowing the younger girl, it would probably be in pieces by the end of the day.
Not expecting Keitaro to come, nor Seta-san or Sarah, Kitsune had been left with only one present left to buy: Naru's. She honestly didn't know how Naru would react to her presence. She'd hardly talked to the younger brunette since they'd gone their separate ways-and the fake letter from Keitaro didn't count, of course. In the end she'd purchased a box of chocolates, thinking that she couldn't go wrong there.
With all the presents, her bag weighed a lot more than she'd expected, and Kitsune found herself carrying it in her arms instead of slinging it over her shoulder as she'd intended.
She was almost there. Just one short bus ride between the floor tile on which she stood and Hinata Inn. . .
Or maybe she'd walk.
Kitsune pushed her way backwards from the bus stop, in the opposite direction of the majority of people, which were pushing towards the oncoming bus. Getting herself loose was one thing; getting her oversized bag out was another. Kitsune apologized, tugging on the strap. It promptly flew into her unready self and knocked her over. She got up quickly, hoping the china cups weren't broken, and began to walk. Behind her the bus pulled up and left.
It was mid-December and the weather seemed as cold as could be to Kitsune; the tiny bit of heat she had stored coming off from the train was rapidly seeping out of her coat. She glanced forlornly at the bus, now blocks ahead of her, and thought fervently that at least she wasn't lost. There was only a mile or so to go, but it certainly turned out to be the coldest mile. By the time Kitsune reached the foot of the huge flight of stairs that led to Hinata Inn, her arms were leaden with exhaustion from the weight of her bag and her legs too cold to feel anything. She half tossed her bag to the floor, dreading the shattering sound of china, but didn't hear it. Kitsune sat down on the very first step and hugged her knees to her chest.
She wasn't surprised when the first snowflake landed on her right knee and melted. The weather was certainly cold enough to produce snow.
Kitsune fetched her bag, now wet from melted snow, and slowly made her way up the stairs, taking what seemed like an eternity. Outside the door she paused, hearing the laughter inside. Overhead was a window from which streamed light. Fishing in her pocket with numb hands, Kitsune produced an icy metal key and managed to turn it.
She pushed open the door with one hand and left it there, while six heads turned toward her.
"I'm home."