A/n Oh my gosh, I updated! Thank you so so so much to everyone who reviewed! And thank you to everyone who responded to my plea for ideas! I really appreciated them. It was a really big help for me! If I'm using your idea I'm sure you'll be able to recognize it. I hope you like this chapter.

/Standard disclaimer inserted here\

Chapter 9

Hitomi, on her new motorcycle, slowly pulled off the side, Van following her suit on the Black Escaflowne. They had just reached Hitomi's house. Her brightened, energetic spirits dampened slightly as Hitomi remembered a certain woman inside her house.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Van said.

"What? Oh, yeah, see you." Hitomi gave Van a quick kiss on the lips and waved goodbye as he sped away.

She took a deep breath and walked her bike to the garage, pausing for a moment to open the door and then walking in.

Hearing the soft rumble of the motor and the sound of the door opening, Mrs. Kanzaki had hurried to the garage to see what was the matter. Hitomi cringed slightly at the sight of her mother's narrowed eyes as she spotted the motorcycle.

"What is that?" Mrs. Kanzaki said, spitting out the word.

Hitomi glanced down at her motorcycle as she leaned it against the wall. "Van gave it to me as a present," she explained briefly. "I'm calling it the Mystic. What do you think of it?"

Mrs. Kanzaki glowered at the Mystic irritably and walked away in a huff.

Hitomi sighed. Hitomi's grandfather had been a great lover of motorcycles as well and had passed this love down to her aunt. Somehow, this love did not transcend to her mom. Her aunt had endured many injuries due to motorcycle accidents in her youth. Thus, Hitomi's mom had grown up naturally fearing the motorcycle, which led to a deep mistrust in the beautiful vehicles. This mistrust was not helped by the fact that Hitomi's mom had fallen off on the first time on a motorcycle.

Her reaction to Hitomi's new bike was actually not so bad. It could have been worse. At least she hadn't demanded her to leave the bike out of the garage. The trees outside were for some reason a popular hangout of all the local neighborhood birds; their droppings would be the death of her brand new Mystic. 

She took a deep breath as she entered the house. Maybe her mom was just in shock. She had always discouraged Hitomi from her fascination of motorcycles as a child. True, she had loved her sister, but Hitomi remembered seeing relief in her mom's eyes when she moved away, taking the motorcycle with her.

Hitomi glanced around. Luckily her mom had gone back into kitchen. Good. She tiptoed softly across the living room and placed a foot on the stairs to her room. Then she paused and turned around.

Mrs. Kanzaki crossed her arms and sighed. Hitomi flinched. She had forgotten how quietly her mother could move.

"Let's go into the kitchen, shall we? You missed dinner so help me wash the dishes," Mrs. Kanzaki said in her normal cheery voice.

There was nothing Hitomi could do so she nodded. She followed her mother into the kitchen, watching her mother's back suspiciously. There was no way her mom could be so calm about the motorcycle. She had absolutely gone ballistic when Van started driving her back from track practice. She had pounced on Hitomi the moment she walked through the door, enquiring about her state of health ("Are you okay honey? No broken bones?") and warning her about the harmful possibilities ("That boy shouldn't ride at night. What if the cars don't see him and run him over?")

At least Mrs. Kanzaki hadn't protested very much to Van himself. To her profound relief, she had given Hitomi her reluctant approval to keep seeing Van. In fact, the approval was only reluctant on account of Van's motorcycle. Hitomi had managed to convince her out of that by reminding her that Van's father manufactured motorcycles and therefore Van was probably more than aware of all the dangers. Other than that minor detail, Mrs. Kanzaki adored Van. She had described him as "a darling gentleman I had never seen…if only he were not so reckless." Why was he reckless? "Well he rides a motorcycle doesn't he?"

Hitomi accepted a dirty plate from her mom and they both set to washing dishes. Hitomi could sense another mother-to-daughter discussion coming in and braced herself for the impact.

"You know, Hitomi, I'm getting very worried about you," Mrs. Kanzaki started.

Ah, there it was: the impact. The perfect way to start off a discussion and the guilt factor as well.

Hitomi decided to just get the problem out in the open. "It's about the Mystic isn't it?" she asked bluntly.

Mrs. Kanzaki wrinkled her nose slightly. It was a small wrinkle but Hitomi could still see it. She sighed in frustration.

"I can understand why you're so against motorcycles, but you don't really understand it at all!" Hitomi went on.

"There's no need to raise your voice, Hitomi," Mrs. Kanzaki interrupted, firmly putting a stop to her rant. "You haven't listened to me yet."

Hitomi bit her lip sullenly. "Well, whatever you're going to say, don't make me take the Mystic back to Van, because I won't. I'm going to keep it."

There was a faint impression of another nose wrinkle as Mrs. Kanzaki blinked down at her daughter. " 'The Mystic?' Hitomi why do you give it a name? It's not alive; it doesn't breathe. It's just a motorcycle. A name implies affection and a motorcycle certainly does not give you back affection." Mrs. Kanzaki held up a hand as Hitomi opened her mouth to protest. "I don't want to turn this into another screaming match. We've had too much of those lately."

Hitomi pierced her lips. She and her normally calm and thoughtful mother hadn't been getting along lately, for obvious reasons.

"I'm sorry, mom," Hitomi said, feeling slightly ashamed. Her mom's recent irritableness was all her fault. Her mother was an interior designer and one particularly annoying client of hers was wreaking havoc on her mother's nerves.

"I know you're not in the best of moods lately, but you just don't get it. Your methods to get me away from motorcycles aren't working," Hitomi continued, trying to keep the heat in her voice to a minimum. This conversation shouldn't have to be heated. Any other pair of mothers and daughters would treat it as regular, everyday talk. There was no need for it to be taken so seriously. In fact, as much as Hitomi loved them, motorcycles just didn't seem to be an argument with her mom. But Hitomi couldn't help it. She had to defend her side.

"Hitomi, I do know how much you interest you put into motorcycles. I was merely pointing out that you needn't name an inanimate object," Mrs. Kanzaki defended herself deftly.

"It's not an 'interest,'" Hitomi said through gritted teeth.

Mrs. Kanzaki turned her head and eyed Hitomi, her calm composure ruined slightly by the small twitch in the corner of her lips.

"All right then," she said. "Your obsession. Hitomi dear, this obsession is not healthy for you."

"Healthy?" Hitomi repeated. "What do you mean healthy?"

"Well it's all just a hobby to you isn't it? By next year you'll have your SATs and motorcycles will just fade away into the past. Hitomi, my dear, I assure you, this is just a phase in your life. You are a teen you know," Mrs. Kanzaki added.

Hitomi placed a clean dish onto the kitchen counter, resisting the urge to smash it on the tiled floor. She detested the way her mom had said teen, as if she were still just an immature child.

"Would you say the same thing if I told you would work with motorcycles one day?" Hitomi said quietly.

"Really, dear, be realistic. How on earth could you make a living with motorcycles," Mrs. Kanzaki said crisply.

"I could get a college degree in engineering and work on motorcycle design. Or I could be a salesgirl at an Escaflowne dealer shop," Hitomi responded. "Mom, I'm being perfectly serious," she added, seeing the dubious look on her mom's face. "Van told me about the job opportunities. I could work at his dad's company during the summer."

"That's what Van says, hm? He certainly is becoming quite an influence on you…especially on motorcycles…"

"What? You're going to make me stop seeing him?" Hitomi asked bitterly. "It wouldn't work mom."

Mrs. Kanzaki rinsed a cup in exasperation. "Why must you be so rebellious against me? I never implied I would go between you and Van. I only said that he has an influence on your obsession with motorcycles. You know, you've only started showing an interest when you began dating him."

Hitomi gaped at her mom. "What are you talking about?" she shouted. "I've always loved motorcycles!"

"Have you?" her mom replied in surprise.

Hitomi gaped again. There was true, genuine surprise on her mom's features.

"How could you not know?" she demanded.

"Hitomi dear, you have had a great lack of communication, ever since your aunt moved away actually." Mrs. Kanzaki tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. "It's only just recently that you've started to open up…since that night when you came home with your hair cut off." She glanced sideways at her daughter. "There's more to that night, isn't there?"

Hitomi bit her lip and stayed silent.

"Are you aware of how confused I am by that night? I hear the rumble of a motorcycle and then you walk into the door with all your beautiful hair chopped off! I didn't ask anything because I thought I'd find out what happened eventually. But apparently not." Mrs. Kanzaki placed a bowl onto the counter. "Honestly, you've started talking more these days but you are still such a quiet girl."

Hitomi looked down at the plate she was holding in her hands. Mrs. Kanzaki had a talent of incorporating the guilt factor into an argument without knowing it. It was true however, she had never actually confided in her mom what had happened the day she had sliced her hair short.

"You really changed after that," Mrs. Kanzaki continued. "You seemed so much brighter and open. And then suddenly you started coming home on a motorcycle every day with Van instead of in Yukari's car. Hitomi dear, tell me, what was I supposed to think? Your sudden hair cut, your change of attitude, your abrupt obsession in motorcycles…" Mrs. Kanzaki trailed off and sighed.

Hitomi swallowed. The guilt factor was really intensifying now. In the middle of Mrs. Kanzaki's speech, she had wanted to throw the plate in her hands down to the floor. She would have enjoyed watching it smash into little chunks and pieces of porcelain. Now she didn't have the heart.

"I'm sorry mom," she said sullenly.

"Oh don't apologize to me, dear," Mrs. Kanzaki said, slinging an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "You were always a quiet child. There's no reason for me to expect you to change so rapidly. But there's no doubt that you have changed a little. Can you talk to me about it? What happened? Or rather, who should I thank?" she added, eyebrow raised.

Hitomi stared at her. What a question! "I suppose you could thank…Van," she said.

"Ah, I thought so," Mrs. Kanzaki said to herself.

The dishes were done. Mother and daughter both turned around and leaned against the counter.

"About that motorcycle you brought back," Mrs. Kanzaki began.

"Yes?" Hitomi said nervously.

"You said that it was a present. Does that mean you are going to keep it in the garage for the rest of its days?"

"Of course," Hitomi answered in surprise. She repressed the urge to add, "Duh!" at the end of the sentence.

"And does that imply that you will be using it often?"

"Well, yes. I'll use to get school and back of course. Van can't give me rides forever."

Mrs. Kanzaki froze, her jaw clenched. "To school?" she asked breathlessly. "Everyday? Hitomi dear, isn't that a bit excessive?"

"Excessive? What do you mean excessive? You use your car everyday don't you? How is that different than me riding my motorcycle to school?"

"Cars, Hitomi dear, are much safer than motorcycles," Mrs. Kanzaki told her daughter.

"Mom you don't have to worry. I know about safety. I'll be fine," Hitomi assured her. At that moment she desperately wanted to leave this conversation into the haven of her room. She took a step forward as her mom opened her mouth.

"But you're only fifteen dear—"

Hitomi quickly gave a small peck on her mother's cheek, cutting off her protest. "Good night mom," she said in a clipped voice and stole out of the kitchen. She didn't want to have another argument. At the moment, Hitomi just wanted to sleep.

A/n Oh boy, now it's over. I loved writing Mrs. Kanzaki's dialogue. It's kind of late to say this now, but try imagining her speaking in a British accent, I think it fits perfectly.

Okay, I'm not sure when I'll be able to update. I'm really sorry if you get impatient with me. Go to my bio for details on why I'm a slow updater. You could check out the new story I started 'Speak like a child' if you like. Please do actually, it's a very personal fanfic.

Please review! It gives me motivation!