Chapter Seven: Tough Start

Ding dong!

"Good morning, Madam Marume," a young woman greeted as soon as the door was opened, anxiety and nervousness evident in her youthful features. She was somewhat short and small for her age, but she had a charming, pear-shaped face and expressive black eyes that assured that she would grow up to be a beautiful woman. Fixing her elliptically shaped spectacles, she introduced herself in a soft but soothing voice, "I am Natsuuko Takate from the MIHI. Sir Takeshi Manganji sent me."

A wave of relief crossed the older woman's face as soon as she recognized who the newcomer was, her lips forming a warm, welcoming smile. "Please, do come in," she told Natsuuko, leading her inside towards the comfortable and luxurious-looking set of seats that appeared very new, the latter hesitated to sit on them. As soon as they were both seated --- something that Armelle didn't take very long to accomplish as the girl was forced to accept the invitation out of her respect towards her new boss --- the older of the two introduced herself formally and decided to get to the bottom of things. "Thank you so much for coming. I don't think I can handle things around here anymore. You see, my son had transformed into a complete stranger over the past few days, and I have no idea on how to deal with him anymore. I'd like to leave him to your care, if I may say so, Miss Takate."

"Natsuuko, ma'am. Please call me Natsuuko."

"Oh yes, Natsuuko dear," she quickly corrected, before pausing uncomfortably, a thought crossing her mind. She took a deep breath, eyeing the young interpreter with an uncertain look on her pale face, before she clasped her hands together and decided to bring the matter up, nonetheless. "Forgive me, but I would just like to ask… do you, by any chance, speak French?"

Fortunately for her, Natsuuko had seen the question coming --- in fact, even her superior at the MIHI as well as her boss at the MCO, Takeshi, had expected it right from the beginning. She averted her gaze from the floor to the older woman, not really knowing what to say or what to do. She didn't want to sport the image of a bossy know-it-all, yes, but she knew that she needed to provide some sort of impression towards the person she was now working for. "Oui, madame," she replied slowly with a slight nod, deciding that she should just go ahead and prove her point, so as not to humiliate herself, and most especially not to humiliate the person who sent her. Her accent was not very good, but it was still impressive, nonetheless. "Mon mère adoptive avait l'habitude de travailler en France, et elle m'a enseigné la langue."

It seemed as though the expectant expression on Armelle's face would remain until the day would be over, but it didn't take long for her lips to part into a satisfied smile as soon as she heard the young interpreter's words. "Non mauvais, Mademoiselle Takate," she praised, obviously impressed. She then stood up and extended her hand for the girl to take, in a gesture that indicated that their real jobs --- and their partnership --- was about to begin. She only hoped things wouldn't become too complicated, most especially for the newcomer who could be mistaken for a mere schoolgirl if not observed closely. "Come, I'll introduce you to my son."

"What are you looking at?!"

She flinched, caught off-guard, and when she lifted her gaze to get a better look at the owner of the voice, she found herself frozen in fear as her eyes were met with blue-green ones as frigid as ice. She quickly looked away, unable to take the emotions that were flooding in her from that single moment. "N-nothing, sir, forgive me. I just…" she stammered in apology, clasping her hands together in hopes to stabilize herself, to stop herself from cowering in fright. The Kuroudo Marume she had seen and heard of was very different from the one she was facing now, and she suddenly didn't know what to do. His piercing eyes glowed with such indifference that it would only take a second for her to lose her composure if she would see them; his pale face radiated with such anger and frustration that she was afraid to look into his direction and have all those negative emotions thrown at her.

Her sentence left unfinished, Kuroudo's eyes narrowed even more. "Don't tell me that you understand what I'm going through," he retorted coldly, "because I've been told that over and over, and I'm sick, tired of it. I don't need anyone's sympathy, most especially not from stranger like you."

"Kuroudo-san, wait!" Natsuuko exclaimed, reaching out towards the former Gear Fighter who turned around and left the room, but her efforts were all in vain. As his figure disappeared into the area that was beyond her line of sight, the young woman sighed heavily, her head bowed and eyes downcast. In a whisper that could easily be carried off by the cool morning breeze, she asked, "Why me, Sir Manganji? I'm not the only one who can speak French… why did you choose me? What did you see in me? What can I do to help out? What can I do that no one else at the MIHI can't?"

An angry light glistening from her sapphire eyes, Midori reached out to her side table, grabbing a dart that lay among the messy pile of felt-tip pens and pencils. "Asian Cup Champions, huh?" she asked in a challenging tone, then she hurled the projectile in her hand towards the large poster on her bedroom wall --- a poster of the top three teams in the Asian Cup, with the Manganji Dream Team right in the middle --- and hit Takeshi right in the face. A sardonic smile accented with much satisfaction appeared on her tanned face at that. "We'll see how good you are. I swear, Takeshi Manganji, you're going down. You'll pay for humiliating me the way you did… and for destroying the one thing I value the most."

Her gaze landed on the blond Gear Fighter in a purple vest, and the mischievous expression on her face died down, her eyes narrowing drastically as it did so. "But I'll deal with you first, Marume," she whispered in a stubbornly determined tone, sitting up from her bed and clamping both her hands into fists. She glanced at her half-fixed Gear, the Vacuum Vortex, for a moment, then back at the image of the young man whose face had a few black dots. She had obviously used his picture for target practice a couple of times before. "I'm going to defeat you, one-on-one, no matter what it takes, and I'll prove to him that I'm better than you."

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Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for the delayed update, everyone, I've been caught up with exams and I couldn't breathe for a while back there. But don't worry, I haven't forgotten about this fic at all --- and my other fics, for that matter. Anyway, moving on with stuff regarding the story… MIHI stands for Manganji Institute for the Hearing-Impaired. And the translation for that short French conversation at the earlier part (A big thank you to Miss Lous for helping me out with the translation! *grins*) is as follows:

[Natsuuko] "Yes, ma'am. My foster mother used to work in France, and she taught me the language."
[Armelle] "Not bad, Miss Takate."

That's it for now, minna! Thank you so much for your patience! =P