Kimie was an early bird, as her brothers liked to call her; she rose
daily with the sun. She didn't generally have much choice—the boys
liked to sleep in a bit, and they liked to eat before doing anything
else in the morning. In addition, her little rooms were always in need
of sweeping and dusting—Kimie liked to have things perfectly neat.
But last night Keiichi had come up with the idea to go exploring, and after much cautioning from their older sister, he and his younger brother—and a crony of friends—had set out. Kimie busied herself scrubbing the floor and cooking up a large meal for the boys. Things, however, didn't work out quite as she had liked—Keiichi had apparently thought it funny to place a large spider on Makoto's arm; Makoto saw it, panicked, and ran screaming home. On the way he tripped over a branch and cut his knee severely on some thorny bushes. Kimie had to go find them; dinner was put on hold, and it was very late before everyone returned to his or her respective beds. She slept late the next morning, and her brothers had followed suit.
A loud crash woke her several hours after sunrise, and she looked at her clock. It was 9:38 AM. Kimie leapt out of bed, threw on some clothes, and ran to the kitchen, her heart pounding.
All was silent, untouched. No one had broken into her house. Kimie stood against the wall, not daring to move, and listened.
"Ah, damn you..."
It was a female voice. Kimie blinked. She crept to the window and peeked out.
Misato was furiously kicking her car, which was tipping precariously off the road. Apparently the engine had died, for Misato gave up kicking, went to the back, and began pushing with all the force she could muster while pelting it with every random curse she knew.
Kimie ran outside to help.
"Asuka-san's coming home tomorrow, isn't she?" she asked, as they planted their feet behind the vehicle and pushed.
"Mmm—yes," Misato ground out. "That's why I came back from Kyoto. I have to go pick her up tomorrow night." She kicked the car again. "Move!"
"Makoto's all excited about seeing Asuka-san again," Kimie remarked, almost to herself. "He's got so many adventures to tell her about...and he wants to hear all about your time in Kyoto, Misato-san."
They pushed for awhile longer with little effect before Misato gave up.
"Thanks for your help anyway," she said, smoothing out her skirt. "You'll bring the children over tomorrow night to celebrate?"
"Yes, I will," she promised.
= = = = = = =
Both brothers were awake when she got home, and complaining loudly of their hunger. Makoto's knee was still swathed in a thick makeshift bandage; she would have to change that later. Kimie focused on cooking and ordered the two to sit at opposite ends of the table to avoid fighting.
Things had been like this for several years, since Makoto was a toddler. Kimie had rocked and sung him to sleep; she had taught him how to read and scolded Keiichi for teasing him. Keiichi had always been the independent one; even before they had lived alone, he'd always taken care of himself. The one thing he couldn't do was cook—that was his older sister's duty. He'd proven himself quite capable of doing the laundry and washing dishes—he just managed to avoid doing it on most occasions.
Kimie sliced bread and brought over three steaming bowls of miso soup. There was rice leftover from last night's dinner, so she warmed that as well.
"Misato-san's back," Kimie commented, "and Asuka-san is coming home tomorrow."
"I want to tell her all about the rocks I found!" Makoto shouted.
"She doesn't care about your rocks, baka," Keiichi scoffed. He sipped his soup leisurely while Makoto turned a bright red.
"She does too!"
"Does not!"
"Does too!"
"I wonder if—"Kimie cut in loudly, attempting to break the tirade of "does- not" "does-too"s, but Makoto pounded his fist, and it landed in his bowl of miso soup. The hot liquid splashed out and soaked him.
Keiichi burst out laughing and ducked under the table. Kimie ran to get clean clothes for Makoto, thinking wearily that she had even more washing to do.
Twenty minutes later they were (somewhat) fed and dressed in clean clothes. A large group of boisterous children came and took Makoto and Keiichi off, shouting to Kimie that they were going to Misato's for watermelon. Would she care to join them?
"No, thank you, I have a lot of work to do today," she called back.
Kimie hated to waste food. She poured whatever was left in Makoto and Keiichi's bowls into her own, thinking that she would make a bit more rice and perhaps some vegetables for lunch. The rest of the plates she stacked in the sink—her first responsibility was to mop up the soup on and under Makoto's chair. Thank goodness the floor was tiled, and not carpet; it made things much easier to clean.
She washed the morning's plates and without bothering to turn off the water, threw Makoto's clothes in and began to scrub. Her kitchen window was open and she could hear birds chirping outside. Perhaps her robin would come back today. After she finished the washing she would go outside to mend the pants Makoto had torn yesterday. The day looked very promising.
Kimie loved trees, and she had brought many a tiny sprout to her dwelling and coaxed it to grow. There was a slender maple tree growing by her door, just three years old, and a tall weeping willow off in the distance, where the boys loved to romp around and hold challenges to see who could climb the highest.
On the other side of her house, where she hung laundry to dry, Kimie had planted a small juniper bush and frequently used the berries to make a strong solution which supposedly helped to alleviate the effects of bug bites. She had personally never found it useful, but Makoto liked it. She preferred aloe, which also served to cool burns (and Makoto had suffered plenty of those). That she grew on her kitchen windowsill, among many others. Keiichi had recently fallen backwards and wound up sitting on top of Kimie's prized young oak tree. The slender tree trunk, barely thicker than Kimie's finger, had promptly split in half. Kimie had replanted the top half in a small pot on her kitchen windowsill, where it was now flourishing. Kimie grew catnip for curing upset stomachs, rosemary for headaches, and meadowsweet for lowering fevers. Lavender she raised simply because it smelled good.
She had grown to dislike the doctors in Tokyo-3; most refused to treat her brothers since she wasn't an adult and didn't have proper papers, or asked questions she didn't want to answer. Over the years she had gradually learned the uses of each forest plant, both by experimenting and reading books she borrowed from the library (one of the few public places she enjoyed). Kimie had learned to recognize them and slowly coaxed each one to grow in her kitchen.
She finished the washing and watered each houseplant in turn.
Kimie stacked the wet laundry in a large bucket and tucked Makoto's pants into her pocket. Her clothes were always sun-dried, and she ensured that by spreading them out across her sloped roof on a sunny day.
When this task was completed, Kimie chose a shady spot under the willow tree and pulled out Makoto's pants. The tear was fortunately not big and would not take her long to mend. She threaded a needle and wondered what her brothers were up to.
= = = = = = =
"So tell us about Kyoto, Misato-san!"
"Yeah! What did you do there?"
"Did you have fun?"
Misato thought of her jail visit and sweatdropped.
"I went shopping once," she said at last. "Mostly I stayed at home, since I mainly went to visit Ritsuko-san. I cooked and cleaned for her."
"That's the doctor, right?"
"Right." Misato sank her knife into a ripe watermelon, and everyone cheered.
"Asuka-san's coming home tomorrow!" Makoto announced proudly through a mouthful of watermelon. He spit the seeds out to his left, and Keiichi had to duck his head to avoid being hit.
"Watch it, will you," he snapped.
"We should make something special for her," one of the girls said shyly, wiping watermelon juice from her lips. She was one of the younger ones who rarely got a say in anything. Misato smiled warmly at her.
"What would you like to make, Tamika?"
"A picture frame," someone chipped in.
Thus began their project for Asuka's homecoming. The children gathered together and agreed on the design and materials. Misato cut the frame out of heavy cardboard and thick paper. The boys found pinecones and the girls ran home to bring their pressed-flower collections, and together they glued them on to assemble a lovely frame for Asuka. Makoto donated some of his favorite rocks. Misato found the picture she had taken and sent to Shinji for his magazine, and slipped it in. The children all promised to come tomorrow, so that they could present it to her.
"And Keiichi, Makoto, make sure you bring Kimie," Misato advised.
= = = = = = =
The sun had moved overhead and passed. Kimie had fallen asleep under the tree, shaded by the branches. She opened her eyes to find that they were level with the grass. Cool, sharp little blades of green had imprinted their shape on her face.
She heard a chirp directly overhead and looked up. The bird cocked his head and looked at her curiously. Kimie smiled, recognizing him by the dark spot on his rust-colored front. Perhaps he had already visited her windowsill and found no one there. Kimie reached into her pocket and sprinkled some corn kernels on the grass. The bird spread his wings, fluttering down. He began to peck animatedly at the corn. Kimie lay motionless, watching. When he was done, he hopped a little closer, then took off without warning.
Kimie sat up reluctantly. She didn't have a watch, and her only clock was in the kitchen. Mentally rebuking herself for falling asleep, she stood up and went inside.
It was two in the afternoon. There was no sign that her brothers had returned—the kitchen was neat and clean, and her refrigerator remained organized. They had apparently either eaten lunch at Misato's or someone else's house. Makoto and Keiichi did not like to go long without food.
She drank the leftover miso soup from breakfast and ate some bread, then cleared the counter and took out a bag of flour. Her latest visit to the library had yielded some interesting cookbooks, and there were several recipes she wanted to try. If things worked out well, she'd make another one for Asuka-san's homecoming tomorrow.
She had checked out a book on American-style pies. In each picture the pie was perfectly puffed up, the crust cooked to a golden brown, the fruit juice oozing out through the top. Kimie opened the book and took out a rolling pin, frowning. She was going to have to make her own pie shells. Plenty of flour, some salt... a few teaspoons of shortening... She added water in little spoonfuls, just enough so that the ingredients mixed into a soft, flaky dough. Kimie sliced off the ragged edges with a sharp knife and placed it over her pie pan. It was too small. She made some more crust and rolled it out again.
The illustration in the book included beautifully scalloped edges and a criss-crossed top crust. Those designs didn't quite fit her capabilities, however, so she skipped them and made a similar, smaller crust for the bottom.
Now for the filling.
Kimie propped herself up on one elbow and flipped through the book. Her crust would do for any pie in the book, but she would have to choose a filling Makoto and Keiichi liked. Perhaps a pear pie would do, although she had never heard of such a thing. There were fresh pears growing on the tree she grew at the back of her house. Kimie donned a pair of worn shoes and ran to the back.
She slowed down as she reached the tree and gave the fruit a squeeze. It was still firm, not fully ripe, but it would do. She plucked it with a firm tug and a bug hopped off, landing on a nearby leaf. Kimie shivered and flicked the bottom of the leaf with her index finger. The bug buzzed off angrily.
Sometimes pears tend to be nestled in the depths of the tree, shielded and guarded safely by leaves. Kimie climbed the tree and held herself in place with her strong legs while determining which pears would suit her purpose. She picked nine in all, not knowing how many she would need, but wanting to have enough. Each was crisp and leaked just a bit of juice over her kitchen counter as she sliced and peeled them. She put one in her mouth and savored the cool taste, turning back to the book.
Following its instructions, she mixed sugar and flour, vanilla and other extracts. The result was a translucent gooey liquid that reminded her vaguely of egg whites, except darker and thicker. She dropped in her sliced pears and stirred until each piece was coated sufficiently, then poured it into her pie crust and secured the edges. She certainly didn't want the top crust falling off in the oven. Kimie reread the directions once more to satisfy herself—she liked to be sure that she had done everything correctly—and placed the pie into the hot oven.
Cleaning up was almost enjoyable when she was the only one in the house, and the food wasn't yet ready to eat. She felt it was a good way to save time; hardly anything irked the young girl more than laboring for hours to finish a meal, sitting down to eat it, and then facing the large amount of pots and bowls and dishes that had to be washed. Tonight she would only have to rinse out the three dishes she, Makoto, and Keiichi would eat from. She hoped that some of the pie would be leftover for breakfast.
The door burst open abruptly, followed by "I'M HOME!"
"Something smells good," Keiichi commented, taking off his shoes. Kimie beamed. Makoto ran into the kitchen and opened his grubby hand.
"Look, look, Kimie! I found another pretty stone!"
"It's wonderful, Makoto," she complimented him. "By the way, I've finished mending your pants. They're on your bed, so please hang them up before you go to sleep."
Makoto waved his fistful of rocks and disappeared.
"I'm sorry Keiichi, can you run out and grab the mail?"
He nodded, threw on his shoes, and ran back outside, slamming the door. A moment later he returned, waving something expectantly.
"Asuka-san's sent us something!"
Makoto ran out of his room, pulling on his newly mended pants, and Kimie ran to meet him, ignoring the wet counter. "What does it say? Where is she?"
Keiichi looked the postcard over and threw it at Kimie. "You read it."
= = = = = = =
The two brothers crowded around their older sister as she deftly sliced the pie. The crust was browned nicely, as she had hoped, and broke into large flakes at the firm touch of her blade. Makoto got the first slice, the filling spilling out of his piece onto the plate. Keiichi got the next, and finally Kimie cut out another for herself. The hot, sweet scent wafted from the open cut of the pie into the air.
"Hey, can I have another piece?" Keiichi asked bluntly. Kimie stared. She had barely had time to sink her fork into the corner of her piece, and Keiichi was already done.
She sliced him another. Even Makoto had seconds, and then thirds.
"So what did you boys do at Misato's today?" Kimie asked between bites. "You didn't come home for lunch, so I figured you must've been pretty busy."
"We made a pretty picture frame for Asuka-san," Makoto said.
Keiichi added, "Misato put in a picture that she took of Asuka-san several months ago."
Kimie smiled. She was only half listening; the other half of her mind was busy thinking of the pie she would make tomorrow. Should the filling be of peaches, bananas, or wild raspberries? Or perhaps a traditional, old-style apple pie would do. Whatever she chose, there was one fruit to avoid... and that was the thick-skinned, frosty red watermelons, which grew in the hundreds in Misato's backyard...
Author's notes: Lots to say this time (compared to the last two) For one, I leave tomorrow morning at 9 for Japan, so unfortunately it looks like I won't be finishing this fic before I go. I am going to try and write the last chapter and epilogue out by hand, type it up, and post it when I reach Shinji and Misato's homeland (I guess Asuka is more German...)
And I miss my girl Kimie, so I've decided to dedicate a chapter to her. You can decide how Asuka and Shinji spent their last day together in California (no bad things—please keep the rating of this fic in mind!)
Also, when Keiichi and Makoto address Kimie, it would seem more likely for them to use "oneesan" (big sister) but I didn't want to disrupt the flow of English with a random Japanese word, so I've simply replaced it with "Kimie".
I noted that some reviewers did not agree with the view of the jelly bean tour guide on President Reagan. Please understand that I only added him in because of the actual jelly bean portraits that have been made of him; I'm certainly not qualified to decide whether or not he was a good president, since I wasn't even born when he was president. I'm sorry if I offended anyone with that statement.
Hmm... I think that's it for now, drop me a review and tell me how I'm doing. Thanks so much to all of you (especially those of you who have stuck with me from the very beginning—Honouza, jennyjennai to name a very few)! I really appreciate your support. Thanks!
But last night Keiichi had come up with the idea to go exploring, and after much cautioning from their older sister, he and his younger brother—and a crony of friends—had set out. Kimie busied herself scrubbing the floor and cooking up a large meal for the boys. Things, however, didn't work out quite as she had liked—Keiichi had apparently thought it funny to place a large spider on Makoto's arm; Makoto saw it, panicked, and ran screaming home. On the way he tripped over a branch and cut his knee severely on some thorny bushes. Kimie had to go find them; dinner was put on hold, and it was very late before everyone returned to his or her respective beds. She slept late the next morning, and her brothers had followed suit.
A loud crash woke her several hours after sunrise, and she looked at her clock. It was 9:38 AM. Kimie leapt out of bed, threw on some clothes, and ran to the kitchen, her heart pounding.
All was silent, untouched. No one had broken into her house. Kimie stood against the wall, not daring to move, and listened.
"Ah, damn you..."
It was a female voice. Kimie blinked. She crept to the window and peeked out.
Misato was furiously kicking her car, which was tipping precariously off the road. Apparently the engine had died, for Misato gave up kicking, went to the back, and began pushing with all the force she could muster while pelting it with every random curse she knew.
Kimie ran outside to help.
"Asuka-san's coming home tomorrow, isn't she?" she asked, as they planted their feet behind the vehicle and pushed.
"Mmm—yes," Misato ground out. "That's why I came back from Kyoto. I have to go pick her up tomorrow night." She kicked the car again. "Move!"
"Makoto's all excited about seeing Asuka-san again," Kimie remarked, almost to herself. "He's got so many adventures to tell her about...and he wants to hear all about your time in Kyoto, Misato-san."
They pushed for awhile longer with little effect before Misato gave up.
"Thanks for your help anyway," she said, smoothing out her skirt. "You'll bring the children over tomorrow night to celebrate?"
"Yes, I will," she promised.
= = = = = = =
Both brothers were awake when she got home, and complaining loudly of their hunger. Makoto's knee was still swathed in a thick makeshift bandage; she would have to change that later. Kimie focused on cooking and ordered the two to sit at opposite ends of the table to avoid fighting.
Things had been like this for several years, since Makoto was a toddler. Kimie had rocked and sung him to sleep; she had taught him how to read and scolded Keiichi for teasing him. Keiichi had always been the independent one; even before they had lived alone, he'd always taken care of himself. The one thing he couldn't do was cook—that was his older sister's duty. He'd proven himself quite capable of doing the laundry and washing dishes—he just managed to avoid doing it on most occasions.
Kimie sliced bread and brought over three steaming bowls of miso soup. There was rice leftover from last night's dinner, so she warmed that as well.
"Misato-san's back," Kimie commented, "and Asuka-san is coming home tomorrow."
"I want to tell her all about the rocks I found!" Makoto shouted.
"She doesn't care about your rocks, baka," Keiichi scoffed. He sipped his soup leisurely while Makoto turned a bright red.
"She does too!"
"Does not!"
"Does too!"
"I wonder if—"Kimie cut in loudly, attempting to break the tirade of "does- not" "does-too"s, but Makoto pounded his fist, and it landed in his bowl of miso soup. The hot liquid splashed out and soaked him.
Keiichi burst out laughing and ducked under the table. Kimie ran to get clean clothes for Makoto, thinking wearily that she had even more washing to do.
Twenty minutes later they were (somewhat) fed and dressed in clean clothes. A large group of boisterous children came and took Makoto and Keiichi off, shouting to Kimie that they were going to Misato's for watermelon. Would she care to join them?
"No, thank you, I have a lot of work to do today," she called back.
Kimie hated to waste food. She poured whatever was left in Makoto and Keiichi's bowls into her own, thinking that she would make a bit more rice and perhaps some vegetables for lunch. The rest of the plates she stacked in the sink—her first responsibility was to mop up the soup on and under Makoto's chair. Thank goodness the floor was tiled, and not carpet; it made things much easier to clean.
She washed the morning's plates and without bothering to turn off the water, threw Makoto's clothes in and began to scrub. Her kitchen window was open and she could hear birds chirping outside. Perhaps her robin would come back today. After she finished the washing she would go outside to mend the pants Makoto had torn yesterday. The day looked very promising.
Kimie loved trees, and she had brought many a tiny sprout to her dwelling and coaxed it to grow. There was a slender maple tree growing by her door, just three years old, and a tall weeping willow off in the distance, where the boys loved to romp around and hold challenges to see who could climb the highest.
On the other side of her house, where she hung laundry to dry, Kimie had planted a small juniper bush and frequently used the berries to make a strong solution which supposedly helped to alleviate the effects of bug bites. She had personally never found it useful, but Makoto liked it. She preferred aloe, which also served to cool burns (and Makoto had suffered plenty of those). That she grew on her kitchen windowsill, among many others. Keiichi had recently fallen backwards and wound up sitting on top of Kimie's prized young oak tree. The slender tree trunk, barely thicker than Kimie's finger, had promptly split in half. Kimie had replanted the top half in a small pot on her kitchen windowsill, where it was now flourishing. Kimie grew catnip for curing upset stomachs, rosemary for headaches, and meadowsweet for lowering fevers. Lavender she raised simply because it smelled good.
She had grown to dislike the doctors in Tokyo-3; most refused to treat her brothers since she wasn't an adult and didn't have proper papers, or asked questions she didn't want to answer. Over the years she had gradually learned the uses of each forest plant, both by experimenting and reading books she borrowed from the library (one of the few public places she enjoyed). Kimie had learned to recognize them and slowly coaxed each one to grow in her kitchen.
She finished the washing and watered each houseplant in turn.
Kimie stacked the wet laundry in a large bucket and tucked Makoto's pants into her pocket. Her clothes were always sun-dried, and she ensured that by spreading them out across her sloped roof on a sunny day.
When this task was completed, Kimie chose a shady spot under the willow tree and pulled out Makoto's pants. The tear was fortunately not big and would not take her long to mend. She threaded a needle and wondered what her brothers were up to.
= = = = = = =
"So tell us about Kyoto, Misato-san!"
"Yeah! What did you do there?"
"Did you have fun?"
Misato thought of her jail visit and sweatdropped.
"I went shopping once," she said at last. "Mostly I stayed at home, since I mainly went to visit Ritsuko-san. I cooked and cleaned for her."
"That's the doctor, right?"
"Right." Misato sank her knife into a ripe watermelon, and everyone cheered.
"Asuka-san's coming home tomorrow!" Makoto announced proudly through a mouthful of watermelon. He spit the seeds out to his left, and Keiichi had to duck his head to avoid being hit.
"Watch it, will you," he snapped.
"We should make something special for her," one of the girls said shyly, wiping watermelon juice from her lips. She was one of the younger ones who rarely got a say in anything. Misato smiled warmly at her.
"What would you like to make, Tamika?"
"A picture frame," someone chipped in.
Thus began their project for Asuka's homecoming. The children gathered together and agreed on the design and materials. Misato cut the frame out of heavy cardboard and thick paper. The boys found pinecones and the girls ran home to bring their pressed-flower collections, and together they glued them on to assemble a lovely frame for Asuka. Makoto donated some of his favorite rocks. Misato found the picture she had taken and sent to Shinji for his magazine, and slipped it in. The children all promised to come tomorrow, so that they could present it to her.
"And Keiichi, Makoto, make sure you bring Kimie," Misato advised.
= = = = = = =
The sun had moved overhead and passed. Kimie had fallen asleep under the tree, shaded by the branches. She opened her eyes to find that they were level with the grass. Cool, sharp little blades of green had imprinted their shape on her face.
She heard a chirp directly overhead and looked up. The bird cocked his head and looked at her curiously. Kimie smiled, recognizing him by the dark spot on his rust-colored front. Perhaps he had already visited her windowsill and found no one there. Kimie reached into her pocket and sprinkled some corn kernels on the grass. The bird spread his wings, fluttering down. He began to peck animatedly at the corn. Kimie lay motionless, watching. When he was done, he hopped a little closer, then took off without warning.
Kimie sat up reluctantly. She didn't have a watch, and her only clock was in the kitchen. Mentally rebuking herself for falling asleep, she stood up and went inside.
It was two in the afternoon. There was no sign that her brothers had returned—the kitchen was neat and clean, and her refrigerator remained organized. They had apparently either eaten lunch at Misato's or someone else's house. Makoto and Keiichi did not like to go long without food.
She drank the leftover miso soup from breakfast and ate some bread, then cleared the counter and took out a bag of flour. Her latest visit to the library had yielded some interesting cookbooks, and there were several recipes she wanted to try. If things worked out well, she'd make another one for Asuka-san's homecoming tomorrow.
She had checked out a book on American-style pies. In each picture the pie was perfectly puffed up, the crust cooked to a golden brown, the fruit juice oozing out through the top. Kimie opened the book and took out a rolling pin, frowning. She was going to have to make her own pie shells. Plenty of flour, some salt... a few teaspoons of shortening... She added water in little spoonfuls, just enough so that the ingredients mixed into a soft, flaky dough. Kimie sliced off the ragged edges with a sharp knife and placed it over her pie pan. It was too small. She made some more crust and rolled it out again.
The illustration in the book included beautifully scalloped edges and a criss-crossed top crust. Those designs didn't quite fit her capabilities, however, so she skipped them and made a similar, smaller crust for the bottom.
Now for the filling.
Kimie propped herself up on one elbow and flipped through the book. Her crust would do for any pie in the book, but she would have to choose a filling Makoto and Keiichi liked. Perhaps a pear pie would do, although she had never heard of such a thing. There were fresh pears growing on the tree she grew at the back of her house. Kimie donned a pair of worn shoes and ran to the back.
She slowed down as she reached the tree and gave the fruit a squeeze. It was still firm, not fully ripe, but it would do. She plucked it with a firm tug and a bug hopped off, landing on a nearby leaf. Kimie shivered and flicked the bottom of the leaf with her index finger. The bug buzzed off angrily.
Sometimes pears tend to be nestled in the depths of the tree, shielded and guarded safely by leaves. Kimie climbed the tree and held herself in place with her strong legs while determining which pears would suit her purpose. She picked nine in all, not knowing how many she would need, but wanting to have enough. Each was crisp and leaked just a bit of juice over her kitchen counter as she sliced and peeled them. She put one in her mouth and savored the cool taste, turning back to the book.
Following its instructions, she mixed sugar and flour, vanilla and other extracts. The result was a translucent gooey liquid that reminded her vaguely of egg whites, except darker and thicker. She dropped in her sliced pears and stirred until each piece was coated sufficiently, then poured it into her pie crust and secured the edges. She certainly didn't want the top crust falling off in the oven. Kimie reread the directions once more to satisfy herself—she liked to be sure that she had done everything correctly—and placed the pie into the hot oven.
Cleaning up was almost enjoyable when she was the only one in the house, and the food wasn't yet ready to eat. She felt it was a good way to save time; hardly anything irked the young girl more than laboring for hours to finish a meal, sitting down to eat it, and then facing the large amount of pots and bowls and dishes that had to be washed. Tonight she would only have to rinse out the three dishes she, Makoto, and Keiichi would eat from. She hoped that some of the pie would be leftover for breakfast.
The door burst open abruptly, followed by "I'M HOME!"
"Something smells good," Keiichi commented, taking off his shoes. Kimie beamed. Makoto ran into the kitchen and opened his grubby hand.
"Look, look, Kimie! I found another pretty stone!"
"It's wonderful, Makoto," she complimented him. "By the way, I've finished mending your pants. They're on your bed, so please hang them up before you go to sleep."
Makoto waved his fistful of rocks and disappeared.
"I'm sorry Keiichi, can you run out and grab the mail?"
He nodded, threw on his shoes, and ran back outside, slamming the door. A moment later he returned, waving something expectantly.
"Asuka-san's sent us something!"
Makoto ran out of his room, pulling on his newly mended pants, and Kimie ran to meet him, ignoring the wet counter. "What does it say? Where is she?"
Keiichi looked the postcard over and threw it at Kimie. "You read it."
"Dear Makoto, Keiichi, and Kimie:
"Two days ago I landed in California, where
Shinji-kun lives. His house here is very big and has plants growing
everywhere. I have my own room. Some of the windows cover the entire
wall! Yesterday we went to SeaWorld, where we saw flamingoes and
dolphins. Shinji-kun bought me a stuffed animal dolphin. During the
dolphin show, the animals splashed a lot, and poor Shinji-kun was quite
soaked!
"I visited his office today. One of our old friends, whom I knew when I was just older than Kimie, also works here. He was very surprised and showed me lots of pictures. Did you know Shinji-kun has been to Brazil?
Love, Asuka."
"I visited his office today. One of our old friends, whom I knew when I was just older than Kimie, also works here. He was very surprised and showed me lots of pictures. Did you know Shinji-kun has been to Brazil?
Love, Asuka."
= = = = = = =
The two brothers crowded around their older sister as she deftly sliced the pie. The crust was browned nicely, as she had hoped, and broke into large flakes at the firm touch of her blade. Makoto got the first slice, the filling spilling out of his piece onto the plate. Keiichi got the next, and finally Kimie cut out another for herself. The hot, sweet scent wafted from the open cut of the pie into the air.
"Hey, can I have another piece?" Keiichi asked bluntly. Kimie stared. She had barely had time to sink her fork into the corner of her piece, and Keiichi was already done.
She sliced him another. Even Makoto had seconds, and then thirds.
"So what did you boys do at Misato's today?" Kimie asked between bites. "You didn't come home for lunch, so I figured you must've been pretty busy."
"We made a pretty picture frame for Asuka-san," Makoto said.
Keiichi added, "Misato put in a picture that she took of Asuka-san several months ago."
Kimie smiled. She was only half listening; the other half of her mind was busy thinking of the pie she would make tomorrow. Should the filling be of peaches, bananas, or wild raspberries? Or perhaps a traditional, old-style apple pie would do. Whatever she chose, there was one fruit to avoid... and that was the thick-skinned, frosty red watermelons, which grew in the hundreds in Misato's backyard...
Author's notes: Lots to say this time (compared to the last two) For one, I leave tomorrow morning at 9 for Japan, so unfortunately it looks like I won't be finishing this fic before I go. I am going to try and write the last chapter and epilogue out by hand, type it up, and post it when I reach Shinji and Misato's homeland (I guess Asuka is more German...)
And I miss my girl Kimie, so I've decided to dedicate a chapter to her. You can decide how Asuka and Shinji spent their last day together in California (no bad things—please keep the rating of this fic in mind!)
Also, when Keiichi and Makoto address Kimie, it would seem more likely for them to use "oneesan" (big sister) but I didn't want to disrupt the flow of English with a random Japanese word, so I've simply replaced it with "Kimie".
I noted that some reviewers did not agree with the view of the jelly bean tour guide on President Reagan. Please understand that I only added him in because of the actual jelly bean portraits that have been made of him; I'm certainly not qualified to decide whether or not he was a good president, since I wasn't even born when he was president. I'm sorry if I offended anyone with that statement.
Hmm... I think that's it for now, drop me a review and tell me how I'm doing. Thanks so much to all of you (especially those of you who have stuck with me from the very beginning—Honouza, jennyjennai to name a very few)! I really appreciate your support. Thanks!