Mysteries and Administrations

"So what are you going as?" Yenshi sipped on her milkshake straw, her eyes intent across the table, unblinkingly taking in Haku's face.

"Um, I don't know." He said offhandedly, dunking a french fry before popping it into his mouth. He shrugged, and Yenshi turned silent, thoughtful, for several moments.

"How about a prince?" He furrowed his brows. "You know, something elegant, refined, dignified. That goes so well with your personality, Haku. I mean, you wreak of stately prince." She took an extra vigorous sip of her shake.

"Do I really?" She nodded. "I—" There was a screech of tires, and they both jerked their heads towards the window where a delivery truck had almost hit another car. There were several honking horns, the sounds of acceleration, and after a moment of observance Yenshi continued their discussion.

"Hey, maybe—"

"I've got it." He said quickly, a grin on his face. She looked surprised, began to question him, but he wouldn't answer her questions. He kept shaking his head, and he told her he had gotten an inspiration off of the delivery truck.

"The delivery truck?" She echoed. "What on earth could inspire you off of a food delivery truck?" He smiled mischievously. "What?"

"Obviously you weren't paying attention to what was painted on the side, or you would know instantly." He stood up. "Ready to go?"

Haku still wouldn't divulge any information up to the week prior to the ball. He seemed to be working his own magic, and wouldn't answer any questions or fall prey to any traps Yenshi may set for him.

Once one afternoon she had approached him in his room while he had been working on folding some laundry. She kept him company, talking and smiling appropriately, her eyes roaming his room for any trace of a costume. She found none, and left feeling like a sneak. Though she didn't really feel bad, either.

He kept to himself mostly. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, shopping. Chihiro was so busy with end of term exams neither of them barely saw her. She took her meals in her room more often than not, her body bent over her desk full of homework.

One evening, with Chihiro at the library and Haku cooking some late night Ramen, Yenshi got a smidgen of a clue. She was sitting at the island, her work spread about her in an unorderly fashion, when Haku, his hands holding the pot of ramen and some chopsticks, gazed over her work.

"What are you working on now?" She sighed, setting down a paper full of computer typed writing and scribbled all over with a red pen that made corrections here, additions there.

"I'm proofreading an article for the magazine."

"Your article?" She nodded. He gazed over the pictures and scans spread around her, his lips a thoughtful line.

"Yeah." She said wearily. He set the pot down on the stove, then pulled up a stool beside her.

"I thought you were in charge of the business section and a journalist?" She nodded. "But you do more than that…." To that she sighed.

"We just took over another magazine a year ago. We're published, with great distribution, we sell like crazy, but as far as us—we who make the magazine—everyone pulls multiple jobs." She leant forward on her elbows, clasping her hands together, a pen grasped between them.

"Sometimes we help someone out, or take over when someone's out of town. Sometimes people take on little things, like a new section we just added, little tidbits and such." She ran a hand through her ponytailed hair, causing several small strands to drop in front of her face.

"We're established as far as the business world goes, but as far as our actual magazine, we're still stumbling off the ground." She smirked. "But it's rewarding. I wouldn't trade it for any job in the world."

"That's great, Yenshi." He gave her a reassuring smile, and she returned it with a smile of her own. "Do you want some Ramen?" He offered weakly as he stood up, his face bearing an expression half sheepish, half humorous, and she refused tactfully, her hands held up in front of her.

"You know, Haku," She said after a few moments. "that the ball is a masquerade and you'll have to wear a mask, right?" He nodded. "I just wanted to make sure you were tying that into your costume." She watched him carefully for any hint of a clue given by way of facial expression.

"Yes, I have been, and it works out very well." He grinned. "The mask is blue and silver." He grinned even wider as he took a bowl of Ramen and a pair of chopsticks out of the kitchen to his room. "Good night, Yenshi!" She heard him call, then she heard his door shut.

"You know, both you and Haku are giving me an awful time trying to discover what your costumes are." Chihiro shot Haku a surprise and interested expression. They sat in a suede booth at a new Italian restaurant in the next district, celebrating the finish of Chihiro's end-of-term finals.

"Am I not to be told, either?" Chihiro asked with a coy expression. He merely shook his head, twirling some linguini around a small fork. He popped the entirety of it in his mouth as Yenshi and Chihiro exchanged looks of impression and curiosity.

"Didn't you just pull for a new section on the magazine, Yenshi?" He inquired, changing the subject.

"I didn't know you liked poetry," Chihiro commented, traces of her lasagna still on the corner of her mouth. Yenshi flicked her own mouth to inform her of that fact, and continued, clearing her throat briefly beforehand.

"I'm a poet, actually." She said, half reluctantly, half proudly. Chihiro looked to Haku and both raised their brows before looking back to Yenshi.

"Let us hear some." Chihiro demanded, and Yenshi laughed, shaking the hand that held her fork. "No, I want to hear some—right now! On the spot!" Yenshi shook her head, then put her fork down with a formal gesture.

"Haku likes to write Haiku,

Mostly about a girl who wears a fuku.

But you can be assured—it's true!

That the girl is and always will be you."

Haku and Chihiro clapped grandly, though they laughed as well.

"That was truly awful," Chihiro finally managed to say. "But you rhyme pretty good for split-second demands!" She giggled, and Haku finally managed to stop chuckling, a fist over his mouth.

"I can now believe you're a poet," Haku grinned at her, and she took a grand and dramatic bow. "So will this piece be displayed prominently in the next issue." He asked.

"I think we might be withholding it for a later date." She smiled to herself, her eyes low as she played with her Italian food on her plate.

"I think I have to run," Yenshi said a few moments later, glancing at her wristwatch. "I have to finish up some things for work—see you guys at home?" Chihiro nodded.

"Be safe, okay?" Chihiro's brown eyes looked to her friend, her brows perked a touch.

"I promise. I'll pay for mine on my way out—see you at home! Bye Haku!" She slid out of the booth and trotted to the front desk after Haku had given her a smile.

Several hours later Yenshi let herself into the apartment, dropping her purse and keys onto the table in the foyer right next to Chihiro's. She ran her hand over the back of the ginger cat the stood on the island, too lazy and tired to shove it off onto the floor. She padded down the hallway, the carpet soft and relaxing to her feet.

She went to Haku's door. It was slightly open, so she didn't bother knocking, and pushed it. It gave a soft groan as it moved, and she stepped into the room. Immediately her eyes jumped. A pen shot from the dresser right into Haku's hand, giving her a start.

"Haku?" She looked around crazily.

"What?" He returned quickly, his eyes wide. She stepped into his room slowly, looking at the desk, then looking at his hand, where the blue pen was perched between his fingers. Her eyes darted back and forth between these sights.

"Was that…" She lifted a finger, vaguely pointing. "Did that pen?" She shook her head. "I just saw that pen fly off the desk into your hand!" Her mouth was agape, her brows knitted, her eyes wide.

"I'm mystified!" She exclaimed, resting her hands on her hips. "I could have sworn I just saw that—but that's perfectly ridiculous." She shook her head. "I must be really tired…I am really tired."

"Maybe you should go change, Yenshi, and get some sleep." He suggested quietly, glancing at her strangely. She shook her head once more.

"Yes, I will. Goodnight, Haku." She turned and left without another word.

Haku sighed.

Haku woke up in a productive mood the next morning. He cleaned the kitchen, set up a pot of soup to slowly simmer as he tidied up the living room, foyer, and then decided to put his hands to work in the bathroom as well.

He had finally mastered the washing machine and dryer, so, after quickly checking his soup, he trotted into Yenshi and Chihiro's rooms to empty their hampers. He was just dumping a scoop of detergent into the machine when he heard the door open and shut.

Yenshi was at work, and so he called out to Chihiro, telling her where he was. He didn't get a response, and heard her banging and romping around in the bathroom. He poked his head in.

She was digging into a basket full of medicines and bandages, and her hand bled freely from a nasty gash on the palm.

"Chihiro, what did you do?" Concern was in his eyes, written on his face as he approached her, holding out his hands to take hers. She was sweaty from her run, her ponytail now a mess of onyx strands, and she wore a tan jogging set and navy blue sneakers.

Her hand was a mess of scratches and holes where a mix of blood, sweat, and dirt was caked on her palm, and she heard him utter a curse under his breath, his expression severe as he examined her ailment.

"Sit down," He commanded, and she let herself plop onto the toilet seat. He took some creams and bandages from the basket, and without a word began to dress her wound.

She remembered her thoughts once. Once, when they had spent an afternoon in a park. She had been watching him in silence, her thoughts too engrossing for her to speak. She had thought he was like a god. So perfect, so…right. His striking looks, his vocabulary and tones, his very speech more refined than any she had encountered. His posture, the very aura around him.

And now, as she gazed down on his bent head, his hair falling over his brow to shield his face from her, she still thought the same. Though he had changed. In his desire to fit in he had altered the words he used. Lessening the full potential of his vocabulary on purpose, speaking with accents and lilts more common to the people that dwelt in Tokyo.

But his aura was still striking, his looks striking. Together they dealt a blow to anyone who met him for the first time. That is, if they could appreciate and feel what was different about him.

His delicate, slender fingers darted over her cuts, cleaning them as gently as he could. Once she tensed, when he loosened a small rock embedded in her skin, and he jerked his head up, his eyes darting to her in alarm as if she had cried out.

"Did I hurt you?" She shrugged.

"No, you're fine. It's just a little sore, that's all." He nodded, but his fingers were even lighter as he continued, like whispers of a gentle wind.

When that was done he squeezed a dollop of disinfectant cream into his hand, and smoothed it over her palm. His fingers were warm, and they sent a strange tingle up her arm that then trailed down her spine.

"How did you hurt it?" His voice, melodious, low, and as gentle as his fingers, drew her from the trance she had been in.

"I slipped and tried to catch myself on a fence without thinking. It was sharp and tore up my palm, and I ended up falling anyway, and without thinking again I tried to break my fall with the same hand." She shrugged, chuckling at herself.

He shook his head, his fingers finishing their work by securing a bandage, and he looked up to her.

"You should be more careful." He said simply, still with that glorious voice that nearly made her sleepy. He was still holding her hand tenderly, though by the tips of her fingers, her palm facing her chest.

"I—I'll…I'll try." He gave her a smile, and without another word he left to continue the laundry, leaving her feeling a little lightheaded.

The morning of the masquerade, Haku woke up with an unearthly crick in his neck. He hobbled into the kitchen for some breakfast and found the apartment empty but for himself and the cats.

He dumped the cats several scoops of food before allowing himself to delve into the refrigerator.

He didn't get very far, however. Stuck to the front of the fridge with a magnet was a piece of paper with bold writing on it. He pulled it down and smoothed it out.

Meet me at 9 o'clock?

I'll be at the southern garden.

- Chihiro

Haku ran a hand through his hair. So nine o'clock was the meeting time for tonight? Well, he was ready.