Thank you thank you Hoshimare! I always look forward to reading your reviews...they're so friendly! As for your friends, I have found that duck taping them to a chair really works wonders...haha just kidding. In here, Hotaru refers to Haruka as, "Haruka-mama" I know some use "Haruka-papa" or the Japanese form, but I want Haruka to be referred to as mama, and I really don't want to screw around with the Japanese. So, yeah, just so you know. Enjoy!
Michiru heard Haruka arrive with a squeal of tires and a rather loud slammed door. Moments later, the blonde stormed into the living room, where Michiru sat reading, positively radiating fury. Michiru set her book aside, and prepared to deal with Haruka's sometimes volatile temper.
"What happened?" she asked calmly, waiting patiently for Haruka to reply. Haruka took a deep breath, and unclenched her fists.
"Ask...Hotaru," she replied, the sounds super-articulated. Now Michiru felt a sort of horrid curiosity; what was it that the twelve year old child to enrage Haruka so? Michiru was about to ask, but Haruka had stomped out of the room, and into the back hallway, heading for the garage.
A loud roar from the motorcycle engine filled the air, as the racer streaked down the street.
"I must've really upset her," Hotaru commented, clutching some books to her chest. Michiru sighed and rubbed her temples.
"Let her alone to blow off steam, and then I will talk to her. But, really..." Michiru fixed the girl with a penetrating stare. "What did you do?" The slight child made her way to the coach, and curled up in one of the corners, her back tucked into the spot where the back of the coach met the arm.
"I was walking home, and she suddenly pulled up, and ordered me to get into the car." She recounted. She giggled suddenly. "Poor Masami...it looked as though he was so surprised that his face would fall off." The violinist's eyebrows rose.
"Masami? Who is Masami?" Hotaru shrugged, and went through her books.
"Shinsadi Masami...I ran into him accidentally on my way home, and he offered to carry my books and walk me home. He was quite nice..."
"Well...I know what you did, dear," Michiru said, her voice heavy. Hotaru looked up, her face interested. "Letting a stranger walk you home...it's no wonder that Haruka threw a fit. You need to be more careful."
"I can handle myself," Hotaru protested softly. Michiru shook her head.
"I thought that dream would be enough to make you more careful, Hotaru. You cannot trust anyone you do not know well. This...Masami...is a complete stranger, and who knows who he is." Hotaru frowned.
"I didn't sense any evil from him; in fact, I didn't sense any power coming from him at all." Michiru shook her head, then raised her hands to gather her hair into a ponytail.
"That doesn't mean anything at all, Hotaru and you know it." The slender girl said nothing, her eyes not on Michiru as she gently traced the binding of her books.
"I am sorry," she said finally, her finger pausing over faded lettering. "I am sorry, and I will be more careful...I promise." Michiru smiled warily, and tilted her head, eyes twinkling.
"And what will you do when Haruka returns?"
"I will also apologize to Haruka-mama," Hotaru replied heavily. Though Michiru did not press it, she could still tell that Hotaru felt that she was the wronged party. But the elder woman was willing to let it slide.
"Did you see my new painting?" Michiru inquired, breaking the silence. Hotaru turned to her, a small smile on her face.
"You did a new one? I didn't know that." Michiru stood, and gestured for Hotaru to follow.
"I just finished it yesterday. It's in the studio..." Mother and daughter froze, as an ill whisper penetrated their hearts.
"Trouble," murmured Michiru. She exchanged a glance with Hotaru, and five minutes later, they were screaming down the street, following the doom they felt in their hearts.