Disclaimer: I claim them all, hahaha! Kidding... :D It's tempting, since nobody really reads this part, but why risk it?

Author's Note: Sorry I didn't update at once! I was caught up with entering college and doing a whole bunch of other stuff that relegated Sendoh to a backseat. Hope you haven't lost interest!

Calliope: He's a naughty boy, isn't he! Hehe:P ;D ;P ;D Yeah, I like to think of him as open to all sorts of things, even Britney. :D Mrs. Kano, bless her, wasn't thinking actually. It doesn't affect the state of the dinner she's planning for Ella. :D Sendoh could be a girl for all she cares. :D

Chapter 5

Whoa, Ella thought with more than a touch of surprise. I didn't expect him to go down so quickly.

She had been gearing up for a second satisfying smash of the frying pan, but apparently one was enough. The perverted thief was lying flat on his back, a bloody bruise on his forehead and his eyes shut tight. He looked almost pitiful, his chiseled features fixed into a grimace of pain and surprise, but when she recalled the image of him holding up her unmentionables she walked resolutely over to the cordless phone settled on top of a small collapsible desk.

The pleasant note that indicated that the line was ringing on the other end was already filling her ear before she paused. She was sitting on an office chair, cordless held to her ear with her left hand and frying pan firmly in her right. She had swiveled to face the unconscious intruder, but as her gaze settled on the blood on his forehead an unsettling thought swirled in the back of her head.

When she had left her room that morning, it had been to the dampening thought of coming home and having to unpack. Mr. Kano would set up some things she might need or call in someone else to do it for him. She had been thinking to arrange all of her things herself, as well as set up the things she was certain Mr. Kano wasn't familiar with. Like her laptop and printer. Which were not only set up, but meticulously arranged at that. There wasn't a single tangle in her speaker and printer wires. She slid her gaze over the room, to the wardrobe that had materialized at one end of the room. Mr. Kano couldn't have moved that in by himself.

She swallowed hard.

"Police station, how may I help you?"

Ella hung up and set the phone down with a shaking hand.

Oh my God.

He started, rearing up and cursing savagely as agony exploded into the blissful limbo of unconsciousness. His eyes snapped open for an instant to register a girl on her bottom beside him, her hands thrown back to keep her from falling on her back. Something blue was in one of her hands. It occurred to him that he must have dislodged her in some way before he was blinded by another shot of pain and he clenched his jaw so tightly he actually felt a crunch.

"Please," a terrified whisper edged into his strained thoughts. "Don't move so much."

Ella had been shocked by the fury burning in his eyes when she'd placed the compress onto his forehead. She told herself it was a good thing he had woken up. Yes, he'd knocked her onto her butt, but that was better than him staying supine. It was a good thing he was angry. At least he wasn't looking up at her weakly, struggling feebly to get, "Tell my mother..." across.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, swallowing for what seemed to be the hundredth time that afternoon. She should have called the hospital knowing how hard she hit him, but...

Selfish, she thought with disgust and anger. You might as well spare the poor guy a concussion. You're getting sent home anyway. There's no way they'll want to keep you for six weeks after this. Besides, you should want to get away. What do you think he'll do to you once he's well? Nobody takes a frying pan lightly, Ella, especially not to the head.

Sendoh licked his lips. They felt cracked and his dry tongue seemed to scrape them even more. Breathing deeply to keep from screaming and occupying himself determinedly in keeping still, he asked in a soft, gentle voice, "What's wrong with my head?"

At his calm, soothing tone she almost burst into tears. His fingers were twitching and she knew he was in a lot of pain, but that he was trying to comfort her...

"There's a huge bruise and the skin split so there's a gash too," she said honestly, bracing for whatever was to come. "I—I hit you very hard."

His lashes lifted just a fraction to reveal a slit of soft, dreamy blue. "Why?"

There wasn't any condemnation in it—or in his eyes—but she winced as though he'd struck her.

"I thought you were a thief. You were going through my—things."

Recollection flickered dimly at the edges of his thoughts, but with the pain gnawing at his brain he could not quite grasp it, save for a single thread.

"You're the exchange student," he concluded.

"For now, yes." Ella glanced at the cordless phone she'd left on the desk. But for how much longer?

His lashes met and one side of his mouth quirked.

"You didn't need to hit me, you know. I wouldn't have told anyone you have a fuchsia bra."

Before she could tell him he didn't need to worry because she'd be gone, he went slack.