'interaction'
The first variation in our comfortable routine came sometime around the end of August, in the middle of a particularly brutal and sticky heat wave. The café was crowded with both regulars and outsiders who'd flocked to this cool retreat, talking quietly and sipping iced coffees. I ignored them as best as I could, but it was noisier than most Sundays and I knew I wouldn't get as much done. I was in the middle of wrestling with a particularly troublesome clue when her voice glided through my thoughts.
"Is that true?"
I looked up, blankly, to find her staring at the headline of an article I'd been reading earlier, in the Journal. The closed novel she hugged to her chest; she must have finished it.
"Is Japan's trade deficit really higher than ever before? That's terrible." I only stared, and when she met my gaze she cringed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look at your things."
She'd spoken. She actually said something other than hello or good evening, and with still an hour to go no less. And she'd helped herself to my paper, in a way, though she hadn't actually touched it. I really ought to let her have it.
"Not really," is what I said.
Now she was the one that looked blank. "Not really what?"
"Not really terrible. Yes, Japan's trade deficit is up, but that's no bad thing."
Her eyes widened with surprise and confusion, but they were more inquisitive than argumentative. I hadn't really noticed their color before, a very mellow amber that matched the afternoon sun outside the windows.
"Why not?"
"It's a misnomer, deficit," I tried to explain, very aware that this was my first time to do so. Either my employees understood things like this or they didn't work in jobs that required them to, and certainly my brother didn't care. "It's not the same as what you're thinking, for a company in debt. Trade deficit just means Japan is importing more than it's exporting."
"Oh." She considered this briefly. "But I always hear people talking about it as if it's very bad."
"Well, that's because they're idiots." She blinked at my clipped tone, but I made no retraction. "A lot of people think it's bad because they think money is flowing out of the country."
"Isn't it? If people are buying foreign products, then -"
"Then the money leaves Japan, yes. And the buyer gets the product. Do you think that's wrong?"
"Well…"
"Why do you think someone buys a foreign product?"
"Um, because they can't get it in Japan?"
"Either that, or they can buy it more cheaply than in Japan. One way or another, the buyer is better off for making the purchase. If it's good for him, then why is it bad for the country?" Again she was stumped. "And this is happening everywhere, according to the article. So if all these people are doing so well, then how can it be bad for Japan?"
She looked slightly mesmerized, her wide golden eyes drinking in my every word. I couldn't believe myself. Why was I wasting my time, explaining something like this to a girl I didn't know? I'd never cared before if the unwashed proletariat fell for the 'deficit' scare.
"I never thought of it like that," she murmured, obviously impressed.
"Well, maybe you'd have a better grasp on things if you didn't waste your time on those silly fantasy novels." My words were curt, I know, fueled by the irritation directed more at me than her. I'd just spoken more in the last five minutes than I had for the entire summer, what was wrong with me?
She only shrugged, with a wisp of a shamefaced grin clinging to her lips. "They are silly, I suppose," she admitted. "Not very educational. But I like them anyway. They let me escape."
Interesting choice of words. I squinted, and she flushed. Escape from what?
I didn't ask, though I was tempted. That was a question about the world out there, and that world didn't belong here at our table.
"I'm sorry to have bothered you," she added softly, and slid her chair back. "Time for a new book."
Hadn't she read the entire selection by now? Still silent, I watched her leave the café with the book clasped to her chest. Hers was a graceful walk, though timid and small in step. It was no wonder I never saw or heard her approach, compared to the way most of my executives strode about the building.
"Pitiful," I muttered under my breath, just to reassure myself. I dove back into my crossword.
- - - - - -
It was another month before we spoke again, save her one-sided greetings and farewells. Outside the weather was starting to get cool and brisk, in the evening, and the few trees one could see from the café window had gone scarlet. Autumn is a false calm in the retail world, a fleeting dip in activity before the frantic Christmas season. The gaming industry and my company were particularly sensitive to the upcoming explosion, given the young target market, so I was determined to milk every second of the temporary lull.
The café was quieter than usual that Sunday, thankfully, I'm sure most people were out enjoying the crisp weather before winter closed in. It was just myself and Coffee girl, and a few other silently reading patrons, the atmosphere thoroughly peaceful.
The peace shattered at the shrill ring, and my head jerked up. So did everyone else's. Coffee girl almost jumped out of her chair, looking apopletic with embarrassment, and dove into her purse.
"It's the etiquette to turn those off in a place like this," I pointed out, a little smugly. I never forgot to turn my phone off.
"I know," she whispered, mortified. "S-sorry, I just got it, I forgot…" Red as the trees outside, she hunched over in her chair and pressed the Talk button. "Moshi-moshi? Oh, hi. Listen, I really can't talk right now."
She directed a furtive glance at me when she said that, which was when I realized I was openly staring at her as she spoke. Good grief, what was wrong with me? I hated it when people stared at me, especially when I was on the phone.
Disconcerted, I dropped my eyes back to the crossword, attempting to focus on it but miserably failing. I couldn't help straining my ears to catch her whispered conversation, though why I was so curious I didn't know. I'm good at reading body language, thanks to business negotiation, and everything about her posture screamed discomfort. Whoever it was, she didn't want to be talking to them.
"Because I'm busy, that's why," she retorted, one hand still clutching her interrupted novel.
An decidedly male voice blathered loudly from the earpiece, though I couldn't distinguish individual words. She almost had to hold the phone away from her ear.
"Concert? Friday? Okay, fine, count me in."
Boyfriend? The thought of it made me feel a little strange inside, and I wasn't sure why. Coffee girl couldn't have a boyfriend, could she?
"Okay," she repeated, sounding a little exasperated. "I'm looking forward to it. See you then. Bye." At last she hung up, this time taking care to turn her phone off completely. "I really am sorry," she apologized once more. "I keep forgetting that I even have one, my brother just got it for me a couple weeks ago."
"Birthday?" I muttered, more distracted by the identity of her caller now than the actual phone call. Why was I tempted to ask if it was her boyfriend?
She was shaking her head. "No, just… because. He says it's not safe for a girl to be without a mobile phone."
Well, her brother sounded like a sensible person at least. "He's probably right."
"I guess." She smiled in a resigned way. "He gets too protective sometimes. I think he got it so he can check in on me every day."
I thought of my own obsessive paranoia when it came to my brother's safety, and smiled grimly.
"You're lucky to have a brother that cares so much."
"I suppose." A shadow flitted across her expression as she stuffed the offending phone back into her purse. Then she opened her book, signaling an end to the conversation.
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Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
I spent two years posting for CCS before the first chapter of any of my stories (it turned out to be Wildflower) got seventeen reviews. And then this piece of fluff went and matched that without breaking a sweat. Clearly I've been in the wrong fandom.
There are a lot more Seto/Ser fans out there than I previously suspected. I'm so glad you like the story!
Given my plot setup, these chapters are a little shorter than my usual fare. All right, a lot shorter. Especially now, though I hope they'll get longer as the story develops. This is not (strangely enough considering it's me) a highly dramatic, action-oriented story. So please don't hold any expectations in that area, you'll be disappointed.
What this story does have is a lot of personal statements on business, capitalism, government etc… Not that this should shock any of my veteran readers, but since it's a new fandom I figure it's fair to warn you. The deal is: it's a free planet and you're welcome to disagree with me, and encouraged to say so in your reviews. I only ask that you phrase your counterargument in a logical and thoughtful manner.