Vanished
by Zenin

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Tomoyo will pay for this. Because she's the one who started it. It's all her fault.

Let me begin by saying that I totally did not intend to end up at the camp. But if you dreamt about starving children in Africa every time you closed your eyes to sleep, I'm guessing your decision would be the same as mine.

Which is kind of weird, you know, because the problem I was faced with had nothing to do with starving African children. I guess Eriol got his manipulative little visions a bit mixed up or something. Whichever way, it worked.

I went.

The staff was kind, anyway. They showed me the facilities – which were very nice, by the way. They had an Olympic size swimming pool, hot tub, hiking trails…even a dojo; which was a plus, considering the fact that I spend at least an hour a night practicing my kickboxing skills. Then there was the cafeteria, right next to a small café type building where you could spend your well-earned money on ice cream or milkshakes. And then there was the chapel.

According to the enthusiastic history buff, Shinkokami – who happened to be the chief of staff – the entire camp used to be a small town way back in the 1800's. Evidently, though, when the introduction of electricity came along, people got fed up with their reclusive habits and decided to move in closer to the cities and try out the new idea of indoor plumbing.

I admit, the whole outhouse thing was a bit daunting to me. "You guys don't have indoor plumbing?"

But you can't really blame me. I mean, what sort of vacation was I getting myself into? No running water? Where the heck did people bathe? And how was the pool maintenanced? You can imagine my horror.

Shinkokami quickly explained to me that the camp had rigged up an intricate pipe system that regularly kept water from the river flowing into camp. They had running water, he assured me patiently. Just not hot. If you wanted hot water, you did it the old fashioned way, by heating it a kettle at a time on your respective cabin's woodstove.

It was a little home away from home, as Kero sarcastically pointed out.

All this I endured, figuring that once I was able to chat with Yamazaki Takashi – the schoolmate who had referred me to the Camp Shuniji staff – I'd be able to sort out their disappearing problem in no time. And then, of course, I'd go back home and get some real rest and relaxation.

That was before I found out that Takashi was no longer a staff member.

"What?" I snapped out quickly. "You've got to be kidding me. I mean, I just talked to him yesterday. He was here."

"Hai." One of the counselors, a sort of plain-faced brunette named Mioko, nodded. "But that was before his girlfriend got sick. What was her name now? Chi…Chiharu, I think. Yeah, that's it. She got sick, so he had to leave."

The girls all exchanged glances, smiling knowingly. "Isn't that romantic?" one of them said wistfully.

"I think it's kinda sad, actually," said another. "That Takashi guy was hot."

Disgust was about the only emotion I felt at that time. "He left? Without telling me?"

"What's it to you?" One of the girls, who had remained pretty quiet until just then, fastened her carefully made up blue eyes on me. "What are you, his other girlfriend? Or is it just wishful thinking?"

I returned her stare with an icy glare of my own. "No," I said shortly. "We're just friends. Chiharu is my friend, too, though. I would have liked to know how she got sick."

The blue-eyed girl flipped back her beautiful, raven hair and smiled meaningfully at me. "I see. So it's not the boyfriend you're after. It's his girlfriend you want."

It took some considerable willpower to convince myself not to drive my fist into her lovely face. Instead, I settled for a more diplomatic approach.

"Would you like me to break all your fingers now, or wait until after dinner? Because," I said sweetly, "I'm always open to rescheduling."

It was pretty interesting, watching all the colour go out of someone's face. Obviously, no one had said anything like that to her before. Well, I smiled to myself, there's a first time for everything. And this would definitely not be the last, if I was going to be stuck here all summer with that catty witch.

Her name was Kohana, I later found out. And she, according to all the other female counselors, seemed to believe that everyone was beneath her. Everyone – with the exception of a certain male counselor.

"Well," said Mioko uncomfortably. "He is rather hot. Godlike, even. A regular Hyperion."

I didn't bother to correct her Greek mythology, despite the fact that Hyperion happened to be one of the older gods, and had a sort of grizzled beard in all the artwork I had seen. And, well, grizzled beards…they don't really appeal to me. I'm not sure about Mioko, though.

But anyway, seeing as I didn't know or care about any of the male counselors, I decided to call it a day. It's a tiring business, being a cardcaptor. It's kind of like trying to be a detective, mathematician, law enforcer, and doctor all rolled into one. Find a problem, analyze problem, fix problem, and then clean up the ensuing mess.

I was just in the detective phase. The others were sure to follow quickly.

It was only eleven o'clock when I stumbled into my cabin, but I felt like my feet were filled with lead. I just wanted to sleep.

That's when I noticed all these pairs of big, curious eyes staring at me.

"You're the new counselor, aren't you?" one little girl lisped. She looked to be about nine years old.

I nodded shortly. "Yes. I am. My name is Kinomoto Sakura."

"Konbanwa," the eight little girls chimed. One of them threw a piece of candy at me. A peppermint.

Oddly enough, this show of acceptance sort of gave me a warm feeling for a moment. "Konbanwa," I replied with a tired smile.

Then I tumbled into my bed – discreetly placed in an adjoining room – and promptly fell asleep.

The following morning brought with it the fresh scent of rain. Which was nice, really, because the day before had been so unbearably hot, I thought I was going to die before the end of the summer. So when I walked out onto the cabin porch to check out the weather, it really made my day to have a big fat raindrop splash down on my nose. My girls, though, were not so happy.

"It's raining?" a slender, blonde haired girl whined. "Not again."

"Damn," said another.

I stared at this one, shocked. "Don't swear, Akemi!"

The tiny red head glanced casually up at me. "Damn is not a swear word," she stated matter-of-factly. "But bastard is. And sh–"

I quickly covered her mouth with my hand. "Who taught you all those?" I wanted to know.

"My brother. Akashi."

I felt uneasy about that one. "Your brother would not, by chance, be here at this camp, would he?"

"Yup."

Great. Just what I needed: an all-knowing brother teaching my girls how to cuss. I stifled a groan and shepherded the girls back inside to change into their play clothes.

One of the nice things about this camp was the fact that I did not have to wear a uniform. All that they required of us was that we wear these nametags on ribbons around our necks – you know, a sort of staff ID. That way, no one would mistake any one of us for a camper.

Which, in my case, is actually a very good thing. I've been mistaken for a twelve year old more times than I can count. Especially when I wear a hat.

The basic job of a counselor is this – you herd your children to wherever they need to go for the day's activities, then you leave them there to have fun. You rejoin them for meal times and for campfire later at night.

The rest of the day is yours to squander any way you like. Swimming, playing sports, hiking…there was a myriad of things to do. A goodly portion of the girls liked to spend their free time flirting.

Superficial morons.

I had an interesting dilemma before me. What was I going to do?

After I had eaten breakfast with my campers and safely delivered them into the hands of some senior staff member who was orchestrating some field games, I headed to the administration building.

There were some questions I wanted to ask Shinkokami's secretary. And no, I wasn't about to go: "Hey, I heard that a whole bunch of people disappeared from this camp two months ago. Could you tell me which cabins the missing people were in and when they disappeared?"

No, I'm a lot more subtle. Tomoyo had given me a list of the missing people's names. I chose one and wrote it one the inside of my hand. Thus armed, I entered the office.

It was a little toasty inside. Obviously, Shinkokami was about as happy about the rain as my group of little campers. Me, I adored it. I mean, it was just a light drizzle. Nothing to worry about. That's why, instead of going into full out rain gear, I had simply decked myself out in a pair of beige capris and a white sleeveless shirt.

Yeah, they thought I was pretty crazy, too. But hey, it was the height of fashion. I was dressed to kill.

The secretary glanced up from her minesweeper game on the computer and looked at me. "Oh, ohayo. Do you need something?"

I smiled, feigning uncertainty, and said, "Well, I found a letter in my mailbox. It's addressed to someone else, though. Could you tell me which cabin ---- is in, so that I can put in her box?"

The secretary smiled back at me. "That's thoughtful of you. Most people usually don't care. They either open it themselves, or just leave out for anyone to take." She shook her head sadly and exited out of her minesweeper game. "Kids these days. What was the name again?"

"Kuang Noriko."

She rapidly keyed in the name and scrolled down the screen. Then her expression altered. She first looked surprised, then curious. Finally, she looked back up at me. "Are you sure that that's the correct name?"

"Hai," I said slowly. "Why?"

"Do you have the letter with you?"

"Not at this moment. I left it in my box for safekeeping."

More lies. Oh well.

"Hm." More typing ensued. The secretary sighed. "Gomen nasai, but that girl quit working here a long time ago. She's been gone for over a month. They said she had a really bad case of the flu."

"Oh." I frowned. "Alright then. Do you know which cabin she was in?"

The secretary scrolled down the computer a little more, then replied, "Cabin forty-eight."

"Ah." I turned to leave. "Thanks for your help."

"Wait…are you Kinomoto Sakura?"

I froze. Now, you may think I was being a bit silly for getting so tense and all, but I've had more than one week's worth of trouble begun by someone saying that phrase. I turned, but only halfway – you know, to offer as small a target as possible. "Yes."

The secretary was still sitting behind her desk, smiling at me. "Oh, good. Mr. Shinkokami did hope I'd catch you."

Did he?

"Our current instructor at the dojo is completely swamped with students. Anyway, it says in your file that you are a black belt in…" She squinted at the screen, "Isshinryu?"

I slowly began to relax. "So you need an assistant instructor, is that it?"

"Hai." She glanced up from the computer and looked at me pleadingly. "Can you do it? I mean, I understand if you just want to spend your free time relaxing. Taking care of young ones can be so demanding. But we'd really appreciate any help we can get."

I shrugged. "Sure."

The woman beamed at me. "Great! Thank you so much, Sakura." Her attention happily traveled back to her renewed minesweeper game. "You're a lifesaver."

Uh-huh.

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I know. This really isn't my style. At all. But let's just say I'm trying out something new. Who knows, maybe this'll turn out to be a good fic after all.

It's off to a slow start, anyway.

−Zenin