AN: How some of the characters met- namely Souta, Mischa, and Yoshi. Set six years before One Wish. Focused primarily on Souta, interspersed with moody hanyou, soccer-playing air elementalists, and oden-eating mikos. (Yes, I know Japanese doesn't have plural, but hell if it's always been one miko, two mikos in my mind. Two miko sounds wrong.) Character development for a younger Souta- how he came to be so easily accepting of weird things- and a younger Mischa- how she'll look out for family, even if she won't admit to it.
Disclaimer: Kagome and Souta courtesy of Rumiko Takahashi. Yoshi and Mischa products of a deranged mind and not for sale. (Though borrowing with permission is allowed.)
Higher-Level Education
Souta liked to think the world was a cool place to live. Of course, there were also things about that he didn't like. Take school, for instance. School was boring; the only thing good about it was recess, lunch, and gym class. All nine-year-olds saw things like that.
His mother, however, didn't see things like that and had delivered an ultimatum. Either stop bringing home notes for parent-teacher conferences to discuss his lack of initiative, or else get real used to never playing soccer after school again.
It should have been an easy choice. Souta loved soccer. Lived for soccer. It a world of cool things, soccer rated number two- right behind reading, preferably manga or Kagome's science books.
So it should have been an easy choice. But school was beyond boring, and of course he didn't do the homework so stupid that even the dumb students got perfect scores on them. They were a waste of his time, better spent on the soccer field down the street with the other boys. Maybe if the work had been halfway interesting, like about rocketry, or biochemistry, he would do the work.
But he hadn't done the work, and his mother's threat became reality.
She spoke to the soccer coach, and today, for the fifth game straight- three whole weeks! - he was exiled to the spectators' side of the field, watching his teammates lose badly without their main goalkeeper playing. The girl beside him thought the game was going so badly she had pulled out a big book and started reading.
Which reminded him of his repossessed manga, currently wiling away its time in a cardboard box in Kagome's closet. Not allowed to do anything but homework, besides coming to the fields for practice, which his mother had agreed was beneficial to his health and kept him in good shape. The argument hadn't gone quite as well as he hoped, but at least he was sulking outside and not in his room.
Watching the game, Souta got the feeling that even if the homework was so stupid he could do it in his sleep, he better do it. Because people shouldn't bring books to soccer games. He craned his neck, trying to read the page to see what her book was about.
It wasn't really so much as text as it was photographs. Eww, he would never try to cut Buyo's fur again if that was what a hairless cat looked like. He looked away from the photograph and at the girl, who was staring at him out of the corner of her eye.
She didn't look much older than him, so he figured she must only be in her first year of junior high. Kagome started bringing home big books like that when she started going there too. Though those weren't as interesting as this, not after he realized the only thing the books were really teaching his sharp mind was the proper names for things, as logic dictated the way they worked.
"Do you always read over other people's shoulders?"
He shrugged. "Just wanted to know what you were reading."
"It's an anatomy book. Why don't you go back to watching the game before I rearrange yours?" she asked, giving a mean glare that made her blue eyes so dark they were practically purple.
"It's boring to watch. And coach won't let me play until my teacher says my grades are improving. Tell me all about the cat," he demanded with all the importance a nine-year-old could.
She turned her head to stare right at him, and he was reminded again of his sister. She looked an awful lot like Kagome. Only with a grumpier face. But she was seeing him, and not the annoying little kid who kept Kagome home on weeknights to babysit, so it was all right for her to look grumpy.
He had discovered early on that nobody could resist the puppy dog eyes but a mother. She wasn't one.
She sighed. "Fine. Let's start with the basics..."
-----
Kagome watched Souta trot towards the house from her window. She could almost hear his tuneless whistling.
Wasn't he grounded? What was he so happy about? Had the soccer coach actually let him play?
"Tadaima!" he announced cheerfully from downstairs, shoes dropping to the floor loudly, and then he was thundering up the stairs, dashing into her room, grabbing the no-longer-napping cat on her bed, then disappearing back out.
Kagome waited until the papers on her desk stopped moving before following.
"Okay, you little runt, what are you so happy about?" she asked, poking her head through his doorway.
"I was talking with this girl at the game," he said, looking up from where he had been petting the cat, "and she said that it takes at least three feet for a cat to be able to twist around to land on its feet, and for anything above five stories, they can't do it at all."
"You're not throwing my cat out the window," she said flatly.
"No, no, no! I grabbed Buyo to see if he really was a cat, because I've never seen him land on his feet, and she loaned me this book that has all these cool pictures, and if Buyo is a cat, he should look something like they do-"
Kagome tuned the excited babble out and turned her attention to the large book Souta had beside him.
Who would bring homework to a soccer game?
She shook her head and sighed. "You still have to do your homework, Souta."
He hummed noncommittally, grabbing Buyo and twisting the cat around so he could feel along the cat's back, mouthing numbers as he counted ribs underneath all the fat.
She gave him another long look before closing the door and heading back to her room.
Who would bring homework to a soccer game and how had they managed to interest her 'I hate everything but soccer' little brother in it?
-----
"Ne, bookworm, do you come here every day?" he asked, plopping down beside the girl, exhausted from practice.
"It's Shan, not bookworm. I was waiting for you. I'd like my book back," she told him.
"But I've still got another four chapters to go!" he complained.
So this was what they meant by silence being loud, he thought, shifting under her incredulous gaze.
"You actually read it?" she asked slowly.
"Yeah," he said after taking a long drink from his water bottle. "The problems at the end of the chapters were kind of easy. Though they were harder than the ones in my books. Do you have to do them for homework or does your teacher make up harder ones?"
"Didn't you say your mother grounded you from soccer because you wouldn't do you homework?"
"Well, yeah, but that's because the homework's boring? I could answer that stuff in my sleep," he told her.
He thought he heard her mutter, "Then why don't you?"
"Anyways, do you have any more? Kagome took away all my manga and I need something to read."
He couldn't read her face as she replied, "Only if you answer all the questions at the back of each chapter."
"But they're easy!" he protested.
"Prove it."
If it would get him more interesting stuff to read, so be it. Maybe it would even look like homework and he would be allowed to play in his soccer games again.
"You're on."
-----
"I'm not joking," he overheard as he headed back downstairs to get a late-night snack. "My books are smaller than the ones he dragged home yesterday, and he's actually reading them!"
Kagome was talking on the phone to someone. About him. About the books he got from the bookworm who had come to practice to get her book back, only to end up giving him her book-laden backpack. Along with a promise that if he read it, he did all the work in it too.
"Ne, Mischa, did you talk to him after I talked to you? I didn't really mean to whine about babysitting him, you know. Souta's too cute to stay mad at for long. And I hate to admit it, but having to stay home means my homework gets done too."
He didn't pay close attention to the phone call. He was used to his sister staying up all hours of the night talking to different friends.
It looked like the work was going to be a bit of a challenge. Anatomy wasn't too hard- as an athlete, he tried to be aware of his body. She had taken her calculus book away from him, saying he could try figuring out basic algebra before taking on the real stuff. He made a mental note to find Kagome's book and borrow it as soon as possible. Possibly when she fell asleep while working on it. Maybe pass his work off as hers to make her feel better about her math scores? She tried hard, he knew, but she had no head for numbers. He was the one helping her learn the multiplication tables when they were littler.
"Mischa no baka! Don't tell me it's none of my business! Something really weird is going on!"
Ah, cup ramen. Nectar of the gods. Or would it be ambrosia? Nectar was liquid, ambrosia was solid. Cup ramen came somewhere in between. Nec-brosia? Am-tar? The microwave dinged.
Souta knew he was brilliant when it came to math and sciences, but he still slept his way through elementary school for the sole reason of not being labeled 'that dorky little smart kid' by the older children who would be his new classmates. No, sleeping his way through school was much safer.
But that didn't stop him from wishing for a challenge.
And the cute blue-eyed junior high student, with her curt lessons in basic physics and virology and whatever else happened to be the book of the week, promised a challenge. 'Learn what I'm saying or I'm not letting you borrow my books.'
"Okay, okay, so weird stuff is always going on around me. But not Souta."
Soccer was still second in his world, reading was still number one. But listening intently to the girl's quiet, low voice explain why neutrons were so much heavier than electrons had jumped from not even being on the list, to being the third coolest thing the world had to offer.
He slurped from the cup, foregoing chopsticks.
-----
The older teenagers had scared the children into vacating one of the two fields and had set up a very physical, no-holds-barred, no-such-thing-as-fouls game. One left the field for a water break, and noticed a young girl reading, half-watching the younger kids play.
He cocked his head to the side and watched her for a time. Just looking at her made it painfully obvious about the duality of her nature. He headed in her direction.
"It's an odd place to find someone like you," the teen said as he sat down next her.
She hummed in recognition of his presence, but continued to read.
"So do you just like soccer or is he dinner?"
Her head snapped up so fast he worried she might have gotten whiplash.
"Why do you look so surprised? There are humans who know about your kind," he said with a smirk playing across his handsome, scarred face.
She threw the book in his face and stormed off.
-----
It had taken him only four months, and constant badgering to the unsympathetic book girl, but he had finished all the questions, read all the books she had on the physical sciences. She ignored his pleas for more books at once, loaning him only one or two at a time and not giving him new ones until the work was done for those. He wondered where she got the textbooks and what she did with the ream of papers he gave her every Friday as proof he was actually reading the book.
A month into the lessons, his mother had agreed to let him go back to playing in his soccer games and not just getting exercise at soccer practice.
Shan had stopped coming every day after a few weeks of his constant badgering. He decided she was slightly masochistic, as she continued to show up every Friday for the soccer games.
He wondered why she started coming in the first place and asked when his game ended and the team was sent on its way.
"My cousin plays," she explained, waving in the direction of the other soccer field, where a group of teenagers were playing an unofficial game.
"Does that mean you know how to play too?"
She shook her head. "I just know what I've seen."
"Then it's my turn to do you a favor." He pulled her over to the game and asked the older boys if the two children could join in.
The oldest- a scar-faced brunette with eyes two different colors- agreed before the rest of the group could laugh them off the field. He was rewarded by having both runts put on his team. He merely laughed at the newest teammates forced upon him, made Souta goalie, and handed the glowering girl a rubber band.
"Put your hair in a ponytail so it won't fly in your face. You'll see better."
The other team stopped laughing fifteen minutes into the game when it was discovered the nine-year-old was a better goalie than the kid who played goalkeeper for his high school team, and the girl, while having trouble learning how to dribble, had a powerful kick, and was small enough to send break-away attackers flipping over her as she stole the ball from under their noses.
The brunette who had let them play turned out to be an exceedingly good player and could play anywhere on the field, blending in with the other boys' talents around him, always somehow making them play better, putting a little more into the game than they thought they could.
Souta wondered why he'd never joined the bigger kids' game before, if this was all it was. Maybe because he played with his teammates, who had already left tonight, and the older boys were the only ones playing right then, and he wanted to show her now what soccer was.
The boy with the different colored eyes laughed so hard he cried when the streetlights came on, signifying it was dark and time for the two little ones to head home for dinner.
"You come play again. I'll have you on my team any day."
The boy who had forced the two onto the other team scowled. The brunette just laughed harder as the kid waved farewell, before turning and trotting after the disappearing girl.
"She's got no real talent for the game, she's only naturally athletic," the scar-faced teen told the opposite side's goalie. "You just saw a little girl. Though that kid," he added with a grin, "a thousand yen says he goes pro before he's twenty. He's wasted in the goal box."
There were no takers on the bet- the teen was well known for his ability to never lose a bet he made, even if the odds were impossible.
The goalie for the other team shoved him playfully. "You're the one who told him to play there."
"He's too little to play anywhere else with you on the field. You'd break both his legs the first time he scored on you." He demonstrated what his friend's reaction would be, contorting his face into one full of outrage as a kid almost half his age scored on him, stomping around before throwing his shirt off and tackling the goalie.
The scuffle was broken up by the younger teens, worried the two were actually fighting.
"Yoshi, you're insane," the goalie said, waving away the kid still standing between the two.
Yoshi gave a noncommittal hum. "She was kinda cute," he said, grabbing his shirt to pull back on.
"Maybe when she hits puberty she'll look even better," the goalie said with a roll of his eyes.
Yoshi just started laughing again.
"Insane," the rest agreed as they decided new teams.
-----
The breeze ruffled his dark hair as he watched the two. Soccer practice was long over for the boy, the streetlights would be turning on soon, and neither looked like they would be getting up any time soon.
He could faintly hear their conversation, and he had to wonder. Really, why would someone like her be playing tutor to an overly bright elementary student? Actually, listening to the boy question her logic for one explanation, the boy wasn't just bright, he was a damn genius.
Still didn't explain why she would care. Unless his senses were playing him wrong- and they never did- she was part demon. They never paid much attention to mortals.
And then he saw something he should have noticed when the two had first approached him to let them play with him and his friends. But he hadn't, because he was still so shocked at coming face-to-face with a half-demon to pay any attention to the young boy with her.
Elemental magic clung to him, blending in with the pale light of magic that clung to everything and hidden by the blaze of brown and silver she was. He hadn't seen it because the boy's magic paled in comparison to the bastion of unavailable power the girl was. Had she been human, any magician who saw her would have snapped her up. Instead, she languished under the sad fact that someone who was part demon and part human would never be able to use either species' magic.
She noticed the attention he had been focusing on them and glared at him. The boy in front of he turned, recognized him, and waved. He waved back, ignoring the glare.
Now why would a half-demon care about a human, even one that had the ability to use magic?
And what was keeping him from approaching the two and teaching the kid about the world his friend couldn't teach him?
Nothing, really.
Nothing besides the flat blue glare of a girl he knew had to be approaching twenty, yet easily passing herself off as twelve.
His first few attempts to speak with her had left him wondering how anyone could think her a child, with those far-too-angry eyes. Maybe he was just going about it wrong.
-----
She was talking to someone who wasn't him.
It took a well-aimed soccer ball from Shinnosuke to get his attention away from the annoyed bookworm and smiling teenager.
"Souta, the goalie's supposed to catch balls, not flies," the other boy complained as Souta rubbed his aching head.
"Yeah, but she's-" Souta stopped.
"She?" Shinnosuke said with a look of disgust. "Who hangs around with girls, Souta? Either start playing or let someone else be goalie."
"All right," he said, with one last glance at the two non-spectators.
-----
She was showing up almost every other day now, but he was too tied to soccer practice to be able to flop down beside her like he had the first months of their acquaintance. Instead, if was the scar-faced teenager from when they joined the older boys' rough game.
He liked to note that she didn't smile at all for him. But she didn't smile for Souta either. Her eyes sometimes would, but never once had her entire face smiled. She was much too serious, even for a bookworm. But she showed her friendship in a different way. She'd listen to anybody who sat down beside her for about five minutes, before quietly standing and leaving for a spot unoccupied by chatterboxes, and it was only Souta and the teenager who were allowed more time.
Though sometimes she'd throw her book at the teenager and walk away. The two's conversations always seemed a bit off to the younger boy, as if they knew something he didn't, and talked around it without ever giving the hint that he was missing something.
He figured the missing part was neither had said they were cousins, but he knew they were. They had the same feel to them- Yoshi's mask a smile, her mask a glare, and both were as deep and mysterious as the ocean when he occasionally saw past the masks. He never bothered to wonder why they needed the masks. He had learned early on that people kept masks to hide from themselves, not from others. And they would never confess to that.
Practice ended early one day, and the teenager hadn't abandoned his spot beside the bookworm as he usually did when he knew Souta's practice was over.
" -all this talent, and you're wasting it," he overheard as he walked up to the two. "Should be finding a teacher, not playing around-"
Souta flopped down on the other side of the girl, and the teenager stopped.
"Yo."
"Nice practice. You should play offense more often."
"Nah, everyone else wants to score. I'm going to be there to crush their hopes," the boy said with a wicked grin, balling his hand up into an enthusiastic fist and waving it in the air.
The other two eyed him oddly.
"All right then," the older brunette finally said. "You just keep at it." He stood. "Catch you later," he told the two, then caught the girl's blue eyes. "Think over what I said."
She gave him a flat look. "You are not one to talk."
He chuckled and walked off.
"What's he talking about?"
"He thinks kids reading college textbooks should be taking college classes," she said off-handedly.
"Me or you?" Souta asked.
"He doesn't know I loan you my books."
They sat in silence for a time, before he finally spoke. "My birthday's coming up."
One side of her mouth quirked upwards. "I'll get you something special."
He laughed. "So, about this book on diseases you got?"
They didn't leave until long after dark.
-----
Yoshi sat in the middle this time, between the two smaller students.
"Ne, kid, you've known her for seven months, and you still don't even know her full name," the teen said with a laugh.
"Sitting right here," she said in a monotone voice, not bothering to look up from her literature book.
"Hush, Shan, I'm still laughing at your friend," he scolded, tugging her ponytail.
"You don't know my full name either." She shook his hand off.
Souta wasn't too old that he didn't giggle at the sight and missed the teenager's very quiet, "Want to bet?"
Color faded from her face, and she stared intently at the book, concentrating on ignoring the boys.
"Makes me wonder who's older," Yoshi commented with a laugh to Souta. "Me or her?"
She didn't deign to comment, and the two boys continued to laugh.
Souta tried to remember how boring life had been before her, and before the cheeky teenager, and couldn't. Neither cared if he was reading Dr. Seuss or proving a mathematical theorem, for all that today was only his tenth birthday. Neither cared if he played the never-scored-on goalkeeper or the you-can't-stop-me forward, so long as he continued to play where he liked, when he liked, and stopped when it isn't fun any more.
Something must have changed in his laughter, because Shan stopped reading her book and looked up at the two, her eyes unreadable. Yoshi winked her, and the look disappeared into one of frustration, and she caught Souta's eyes. He stopped laughing and just sat smiling back at her.
The look in her eyes was sad and wise, and for a moment he flinched away from the eternity her eyes held, her mask slipping on purpose this time. Yoshi could see it too, Souta knew, because he could feel the older boy beside him tense up, expecting something. The look disappeared, and the smile she gave them was brilliant, sincere, and yet full of such sorrow that Souta's eyes started watering in sympathy.
Neither boy nor teenager could speak. Souta silently vowed to never ask her to smile again if the only ones she could give were so confused between sorrow and joy.
Yoshi merely wondered where in her life she managed to find enough happiness to keep from crying as she gave that smile.
"Happy birthday, Souta-kun. Sayonara." And she got up, put on her backpack, and left the field, not looking back once.
The teenager and ten-year-old sat shell-shocked, staring after the disappearing girl.
They blinked bemusedly at each other.
"Good thing she doesn't like to smile," Yoshi finally said.
"Do all teenage girls smile like that? My sister's done that a couple times."
"If all girls smiled like that, kid, I'd find a rock to hide under. Can you imagine that smile on a grown woman? Helen of Troy probably could smile like that."
The boy thought it over, tried seeing his mother smiling like that. He shook his head. "I don't see the difference."
"Ah, you're probably too young to understand it." Yoshi coughed into his hand, hiding his faint smile. "But it still is a very nice birthday present."
Souta made a slight scoffing noise and picked up the backpack she had left. "You suppose she's coming back for this?"
Yoshi gave him an unreadable look before staring after where Shan had exited the fields. "No," he finally said. "I don't think she'll be coming back."
-----
It had been two months since his birthday, and he hadn't seen her since. Yoshi still came and Souta had accused the teenager of scaring her off, but the older boy just laughed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously while denying the accusation.
But Souta still liked the teen, and continued to talk about anything with him. The older boy was a better conversationalist than Shan, but Souta missed the challenges her few words always gave him. Their conversations grew odder- even including the lessons the bookworm had given about higher-level sciences.
Science gave way to philosophy- Yoshi was Buddhist- gave way to faith and belief, gave way to superstitions, and somehow, someway, it ended up Souta saying, "Why couldn't magic be real?"
The boy felt stupid, but the teenager howled with laughter and said he should have known all along, and promptly told the air to toss him his gym bag.
Souta thought the fact he hadn't screamed like a girl and run away was a feat for the ages. And once he had managed to calm down, he wanted Yoshi to teach him how to do it too.
And even with the magic lessons, he missed the bookworm, grumpy teacher, quiet friend, 'should never be allowed to smile' girl that had somehow introduced him to the wonders of higher-level education, both normal and metaphysical.
-----
"Ne, Mischa, please?" Kagome whined.
"Kags," the girl drawled out slowly, half-irritated.
"You never come in for dinner. It's not like there's anybody at your apartment. You don't have a roommate, you don't have a boyfriend, and there's this part of me that says I'm the closest thing you've got to a friend, and I'm related to you."
The blue-eyed girl heaved a long sigh and nodded.
"Yosh!" The younger girl cheered. "We're having oden tonight, so you better plan on staying. Because Mama makes the best oden in the world."
Mischa slowly followed the cheerful junior high student up the stairs. "Why should I think I'll be getting firsts on oden night, much less expect anything left over for seconds?"
"No seconds for you," the other girl called over her shoulder. "I had to beg to make you come up for dinner. Why are you so dead set against coming here, anyway? The only other time you've visited was that first day we met."
Mischa sighed. "It's a holy shrine, Kags."
"Nani? What's that got to do with- oh."
Mischa was silent, and Kagome continued to babble about plans for dinner as they walked inside.
"Tadaima, Mama, Souta!" Kagome called out, slipping her shoes off and into slippers. "You'll never guess who I talked into for staying for dinner."
Aiko peered her head around the kitchen doorway. "Okaeri, Kagome, Souta-chan isn't home from soccer practice yet. It is good to see you again, Mischa-san."
Mischa bowed politely to her aunt. "It is a pleasure to be here, obasan. Forgive me for never visiting before."
The woman gave her a tolerant smile. "Don't worry about that, dear. You'll visit when you're ready to, and Kagome shouldn't be pushing you so hard to come."
"Mama!"
Mischa coughed into her hand to hide the smile fighting to make itself known.
They were still chatting in the small entranceway when the door opened again.
"Ne, Souta-chan, you're home early today. Usually I have to go to practice to drag you away from Yukino-san," Kagome said.
"Saa, you just come to get me to drool over him," Souta said, closing the door behind him and bending to take off muddy shoes.
"Ah, but Souta, honey, it is usually dark when you come home," his mother pointed out.
"I do my homework," he grumbled, picking up the extra set of shoes and staring at them.
"That's good to hear," Mischa said.
The shoes dropped to the ground as Souta's head snapped up.
Mischa made herself look busy by looking over the framed photographs hanging on the wall.
"You- what are- how did you-" Souta stumbled over what question to ask first.
Kagome looked between her brother and her cousin. "Ne, Souta-chan, you know Mischa?"
"Eh, Mischa-san? No-" Souta said, confused. "Shan-chan."
Mischa turned from the photographs to look at her cousins.
"You never came back," Souta accused.
"Eh? I thought you said you hadn't talked to him," Kagome said.
She stuffed her hands in her pockets and turned to her aunt. "Gomen, obasan. I shouldn't have come."
The woman gave her an amused smile as her son moved to block the door. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. Try to sort things out by then." And she left the younger generation to its own problems.
Mischa stared awkwardly at her cousins, who had taken up identical poses- arms crossed over their chests, eyebrows lowered into glares, heads tilted the same exact angle forward.
"It's Meirin Mischando," she finally said, eyes focused on Souta. "When I lived with my father's family, I went by Shan. It's really only Kags and obasan who call me Mischa."
"That's because you're not on familiar terms with anybody else," Kagome said. "You'd probably call me Higurashi-san if you thought I'd let you get away with it."
"You left," Souta repeated.
"Yoshi-" she started, looking warily over at Kagome.
"Ne, you know Yukino-san, too? Mi-chan, quit hogging all the cute boys! How do you find them?" the teenager asked, putting on a mock upset face.
"Quit thinking about boys, neesan," the boy complained. His attention turned back to the girl. "So you mean to say cousin Mischa and Shan are the same person." Mischa nodded. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Ne, how'd you meet in the first place?" Kagome interrupted.
"People tend to get into trouble around me," Mischa explained, ignoring Kagome. "I thought it best you didn't know. But I was still obligated to keep an eye on you."
Kagome heaved a sigh and waited for the explosion, used to the older girl's serious thoughts and the usual poor reception of said thoughts.
"Oh," Souta said. "Okay. I'll tell Yoshi-san you said hello." And the eleven-year-old took the stairs two at a time to go to his room.
"Eh?" Kagome said, staring after her little brother.
Mischa said nothing, merely moved into the living room and took post in one of the window seats.
"Ne, Mischa, who did he think you were?" Kagome asked as she followed her into the room.
Mischa sighed. "You said he was in trouble for not doing homework. I simply went to one of his games to see if I could tell what his problem was and tried to fix the problem."
"How? And how'd he buy it?"
"Kags, if a college student suddenly showed interest in tutoring you in math, would you question it or simply praise the gods and pass the textbook?"
Kagome giggled. "Point. Especially if it was a cute boy."
Mischa simply gave her cousin a long blink and flat look that said 'and why would I care?'
"So how do you know Yukino-san?"
Mischa shrugged. "The brat made me play soccer in return for the tutoring lessons. His team had already left, so he convinced the older boys to let us play."
"Ah, Yukino-san must've been one of them. Hey, I thought Yukino-san was in college, not high school," Kagome pointed out.
Mischa shrugged.
"Maybe he prefers playing with a slightly younger and inexperienced crowd," she mused.
"Actually," Souta said, his head peeking out from between railings to grin at the two, "he's talent-scouting and getting training in how to teach people to play. He wants to become a soccer coach."
"Souta, that takes all the mystery out of it," Kagome complained. Souta stuck his tongue out.
"Gaki," Mischa muttered.
"Which one?" Three heads swiveled to grin at the older woman standing in the kitchen doorway. "Now that you have things settled, would anyone care for some dinner?"
"Oden!" Kagome raced for the kitchen. Mischa bowed her head, fighting a smirk.
"Ne, Shan-chan," Souta said, reaching the bottom of the stairs. Mischa turned her head to look at him. "Why did you leave? You didn't answer."
Mischa was silent, trying to decide what to say. "Yoshi asked me to," she finally said with a sigh.
"That doesn't make any sense," the boy said, frowning a little.
She moved closer to her cousin, lowering her voice so even eavesdroppers wouldn't catch her quiet words. "It does when you realize our arguments were over whether to let me keep teaching you natural science or to let him teach you... other things."
His dark eyes widened. "You know about that?"
She didn't bother hiding her smirk this time. "Oi, gaki, how could I not? Even for someone as athletic as you, the jumps and catches you make in the goal box are a dead giveaway to the magical world that you've got talent."
"But how'd you-?" he repeated.
She winked and followed the other women into the kitchen to help with the set up. She paused in the doorway. "Oi, gaki. You might want to talk to my university about getting your grades sent to you. I've been waylaying them to my apartment, but since you already found me out about this, you might as well find out about that as well."
Souta was too hungry to be surprised. And he wasn't too surprised either. Yoshi had said that Souta knew more about science than he did, and Yoshi had a minor in the subject.
Judging by the cries of outrage coming from the kitchen, Kagome had just been refused seconds on oden until he had some first.
"Higurashi Souta, get your scrawny soccer-loving butt in here right now, you little twerp!"
The boy grinned wickedly.
Vocabulary:
Gaki- Brat
Gomen- I'm sorry
Nani- What
Neesan- Older sister
Obasan- Aunt
Okaeri- Welcome home
Tadaima- I'm home
Yosh- All right, okay (a sort of cheer, like hoorah)