tsume.hack (holding half-empty bottle of Code Red Mountain Dew and a stack of homework): No, I haven't given up on this story. But I've had some mad, mad, MAD amounts of homework to do lately . . . and I've been incredibly busy otherwise. Poo . . . Well, here's yet another ridiculous chapter - (gets bonked on head with Kiba plushie by SwingBlues17) - and I hope you enjoy it. (To SwingBlues) That just seemed like something you would do if I keeptalkingbad about my chapters . . .

Hige, with Blue beside him, followed by Kiba, then Quent and his wife, wound their way through the restaurant, trailing after the young hostess. They passed tables occupied by happy patrons, trolleys loaded with platters of every conceivable kind of meat, and rushing servers hurrying to and from the kitchen. Hige sniffed the air and hungrily eyed every plate and skewer they passed.

" I'm so hungry," he groaned as they walked, staring, by a towering stack of ribs piled neatly on a trolley. It was so tall it reached over their heads, and he was sorely tempted to reach for one, but Blue anticipated his move and smacked his hand away.

" Don't be so greedy," she scolded. " Can't you even wait till we get to the table?"

" Aw, c'mon, you don't think I was really going to grab one, do you?" he tried to joke innocently, hands raised in defense, but his guilty laughter wasn't at all convincing. Blue shot him a reproving glance. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly as she said tonelessly, " Don't lie."

Hige slumped sullenly behind her as the hostess continued to a cluster of quieter booths and tables, away from the noisy and crowded inner section of the restaurant..

" Here you are," the hostess stopped and motioned them to their table with another smile. Once they had all seated themselves and gotten settled, she took out a pad of paper and pen, and said," Please feel free to ask me if you need anything. Would you like something to drink to start you off this evening?"

Quent ordered a bottle of wine for himself and Marianne without bothering to look at the menu.

" Hm . . . " Hige mused, poring over the menu with a look of intense concentration on his face. " They've got so many choices, I don't know which to get!"

Blue stole a look over his shoulder to see the cause of his indecision. His menu was open to the beer page, and he was evidently torn between an Asahi or Sapporo. He seemed intent on getting the All-you-could-drink special.

Blue flipped the page back over to the non-alcoholic drinks. " Just get something that won't make you act a fool if you drink too much of it," she instructed him, refusing to let him turn back to the beers. " You're bad enough as it is when you're sober."

" Aw, c'mon, Blue," he whined, but she remained steadfast. " The guys in my dorm ran out of beer last week, and I've been dry ever since! And it sucks!"

" Well, sober up!" Blue snatched the menu from his hands and held it out of his reach, saying to the hostess, " Two Cokes, please."

Hige wailed as Blue handed the menus back to the hostess with an air of triumph.

" Blu-ue! C'mon, lemme get just one! I'll behave, I promise!"

" You're better off without it," Blue said, calmly ignoring the barrage of outbursts and pleas that followed. Quent chuckled dryly, watching Hige pout and prepare to launch another verbal bombardment.

" Listen to the lady, son," he said, stopping Hige as he opened his mouth, " I'm not gonna pay your medical bills if you get her mad."

Blue just smiled as Hige turned to look at her with an expression bordering between horrified and impressed. The hostess, scanning those seated at the table, noticed for the first time Kiba sitting at the end, gazing absently out of the window at the night sky above the city. She approached him and asked, " And what would you like to drink, sir?"

He appeared not to hear her; he sat there without answering. Just as the lady was about to repeat her question, his lips moved slightly and he said in a soft voice, " Cheza . . . "

Blue, Hige and the hostess all fixed him with a blank stare. Hige recovered first, and sputtered out, " She's not on the menu! What the hell are you thinking?"

Kiba turned around, puzzled. " Huh?"

Hige continued, "For once in your life would you get her outta your head and pay attention to the real world?"

Kiba sat there for a moment without speaking, only locking gazes with the somewhat ruffled Hige. Then he made a show of picking up his menu and leafing through it, glancing at the list of drinks. After a moment, he put the menu down and said somewhat pointedly, " I'll take an Asahi." As he passed the menu back to the hostess he shot Hige a faint, one-sided smile.

Hige was speechless. The hostess, sensing the evil vibes beginning to emanate from Hige's direction, left and promised to return with their drinks.

Once she was gone, Hige turned indignantly to Blue, who was watching the overhead TV with her legs crossed, and demanded, " Hey, how come you didn't say anything about Kiba getting booze?"

" Because Kiba can take care of himself," she answered, not taking her eyes from the football game. The aforementioned wolf looked up and caught her sideways glance. Blue added with a smile, " Plus he looks like he could do with a drink right about now."

" So could I," Hige muttered under his breath, cringing when Blue shot him a warning glance, daring him to mention beer again.

" Ehh . . . I'll stick with Coke." He slumped in his chair and glared sullenly at a table across the room, where the happy diners were laughing and swigging . . . beer. Over the noise of other people's chatter and bustle, he could barely make out their song of merriment as they clinked their mugs together, " Beer, beer, beer, tiddly beer!"

The hostess returned to their table bearing a tray with their drinks, followed by a laden trolley cart pushed by a youthful server who must have come straight from the kitchen, judging from the way he was sweating.

" Here're your drinks," the hostess handed out the glasses and mug. " And this is your cart to start off your dinner here at the Brazilian Barbecue. Leon here will be your server, and if you have any questions feel free to ask him. Thank you." She left them.

Leon smiled at them, and began to take the covers from some of the platters and trays on the cart, revealing the tantalizing array of roasted, barbecued, and broiled meats beneath. All thoughts of beer fled Hige's mind when he saw the meat, and he barely stifled a cheer.

That was until Leon brought out a huge carving knife and brandished it casually as he focused his attention on him and said with an almost insane grin, " And what would you like a cut of first, sir?"

Eyes wide, Hige let out a "Meep! Big knife!" and scooted back ever so slightly. Blue rolled her eyes.

" He's not going to cut you, idiot," she said, crossly. " Let's start out with the quail wings first. Those are always good."

Leon obliged by dishing them out to each diner, and fairly soon the meal was under way. After the quail wings came chicken wings and bacon-wrapped turkey. Then beef ribs, pork ribs, cuts of steak, veal, lamb, venison, rabbit . . .

Hige, who hadn't eaten in only about two hours, ate like a famished man.

" Leave some for us, kid," Quent protested good-naturedly when he saw him reaching for more meat. Leon had gone back in the kitchen to bring back yet more. " There won't be any more cows left within a ten mile radius if you keep up like that."

" But you don't get all-you-can-eat-meat every day," Hige objected, tugging on a rack of ribs. Blue had insisted on him tying one of the restaurant's complimentary bibs around his neck that read, " Messy Eater and Damn Proud of It."

" And this stuff is good." Hige shoved some more meat into his mouth and added, " I like hot dogs, but you never really know what's in 'em, y'know?"

" Doesn't seem to stop you from eating them all day, every day," Kiba put in, wiping his mouth. Hige glared at him.

" I'm not talking to you," he said in a nettled tone. " You get beer and I get none, and you don't even have the courtesy to feel sorry for me. What kind of friend are you?"

Kiba had just bitten off a large chunk of steak from a skewer, and he didn't answer. But then he stopped mid-chew and stared at something.

Hige looked at him curiously. The white wolf had that distant look in his eyes, the one he had known all too well, long ago. The one that was usually followed by Kiba running off on some foolhardy jaunt to save Cheza from yet another noble.

Following his gaze to the TV screen mounted in a corner of the ceiling, Hige saw a familiar face, one with pink hair and red eyes . . .

" Her again," he murmured. Sure enough, there was Cheza – or her look-alike – on the screen, talking about flowers again. The program sure seemed out of place in the noisy, almost smoky atmosphere of the restaurant, and evidently some of the patrons thought so, calling for the channel to be changed to pro wrestling. Hige turned around, saying, " Hey, did you see – " He stopped. Kiba had disappeared.

The surly bartender waved off the protests of the customers as they complained that they wanted sports, not flowers.

" Ah, fine, just shaddup, will ya?" he growled, as he rummaged around for the remote. Finding it, he pointed it at the TV, but another hand pushed his down. Blinking in confusion, and then in irritation, he glared at the messy-haired kid in jeans and a leather jacket who stood with his hand on the remote, calmly regarding him with blue eyes.

" Git your hand offa the remote, punk," the bartender said, trying to pull it away.

Kiba kept his grip. " Leave it on for just a minute more," he said. " I want to see the show."

" Well, no one else does, so hands off!"

" I know the girl on the screen. She's . . . an old friend of mine. And I haven't seen her in a while."

There were shouts from the more rowdy tables. " What's the holdup?" " Hey, buddy, let's get the wrestling!"

The bartender glanced at the screen, then back to Kiba. " You know her?"

" Yes."

The bartender reluctantly let the remote drop. " Ehh . . . I guess I'll let you watch it, then. If she's a friend of yours . . . Well, I wish I had friends on TV. Then I might not have to work here. Go on back to your table. I won't change it till it goes off."

Kiba thanked him and made his way back to the table, where Hige was waiting and evidently waiting to give him a piece of his mind.

" What're you doing?" Hige exclaimed, a chicken leg in each hand. " Geez, the people out there were ready to axe you! If they want wrestling, give them wrestling, for cryin' out loud! Haven't you had enough of putting your life on the line for her whenever the opportunity comes?"

Kiba didn't answer; he piled some more meat on his plate and started eating. Hige watched him in disbelief mingled with admiration.

" What do you think you'll accomplish by keeping this program on?" he asked, looking over to where some people were berating the bartender, who was shaking his head with his arms crossed.

" I'm waiting to get her contact information."

" Huh?"

" Shows like these always have a part at the end where they show you the contact information of the person on the show."

The gears began turning in Hige's head. " Ohh . . . " He scratched his head. " So you plan on finding out if she's Cheza or not?"

" No. "

" Huh?"

" She is Cheza." There was no doubt in Kiba's voice, and Hige slumped down in his seat.

" Again with that whole confidence thing. ' I'm so sure it's this, I'm so sure it's that.' Man, we never get a break, do we?"

Kiba shot him a glance. " We got two hundred years. That wasn't enough?"

" Yeah, but – "

WAAH-CHOOO!

Hige was interrupted by an explosive sneeze from the table behind theirs. They hadn't noticed another group of people sit down behind them.

" Do you need a tissue?" a woman's voice asked. " I honestly don't know why you keep forgetting to take your allergy medicine."

A man's muffled voice – smothered by the tissue, it seemed – said in an apologetic tone, " I know . . . I'm sorry, it's just – "

" Oh, Hubb . . . " the woman's voice sighed in resignation.

Kiba, Blue, and Hige all looked at each other.

It was getting to be quite a reunion, all right.

Blargh . . . Well, there it is. Short and not so sweet. More and more people keep showing up . ..And if I get one more request for me to put Jagura or Darcia in the story I'll . . . well, I dunno what I'd do, really. Hmm . . . well, I hope you liked it. If it was less than funny, then I blame my lack of Code Red. It is my lifeblood. Without it, I am a walking shell.

Urgh, there I go again. Well, l4ter!